“I’ll keep your little secret that blood witches actuallydoknow all about Aurum from your precious Fynn. You hags probably know more about it than any other creature roaming this world, but you’ll have your reasons to keep it from him. That’s not my concern. He can be quite hotheaded, though, can’t he? Now, in turn for me to keep your little secret, witch, you will tell me what you know about his mother. Her name, the places she visits, anything peculiar. You get the gist. Oh, and where can I find her in this beautiful city?”
He plops down in a chair and kicks his feet up on the table. He gestures for me to sit across from him, and I warily follow his lead. When I sit down, he looks at me expectantly.
“Your turn, Caria. Don’t disappoint me; I might change my mind about upholding my deal with your beloved Fynn.”
The way he says my name feels as if he can taste every letter soaked in blood.My blood.I swallow again. My mind is racing.
“What makes you think I know anything about Fynn’s mother?” I sneer, trying to stall for time, hoping Reiner will be here any minute and return from wherever he is.
“Quit stalling, you witch,” he shouts, kicking his feet off the table and slamming his fists down, shattering the wood in theprocess. “I don’t just bark, I bite, and I will rip your throat out in the process!”
My eyes widen in shock, and I let out a scream in horror. He glares at me with balled fists.
“Fine! Her name is Adira, and she’s mostly gone; she leaves for the outskirts of town every morning before the sun even rises, and she visits the witches of the Waning Gibbous,” I sniff as tears stream down my face, fear overwhelming me.
“She has some old books they are researching together; that’s all I know, I swear,” I plead, rocking in my chair.
“I doubt that,” he growls, “all you witches do is hex and lie, but this is enoughfor now.”
Once more, that threat, for now. The implication that I am only still breathing because he allows it. He composes himself.
“This was nice, Caria. It was lovely talking to you. Who would have known death witches could be this kind and helpful? Don’t seek me out, dear; I’ll find you if I need your further assistance,” he chirps charmingly.
He gets up and leaves. I stare at him as he exits through the door, probably on his way to the Waning Gibbous coven. Shit, what have I done? I never should have mentioned that cursed coven to him. What if they tell him about their deal with Adira? What if those cunning witches reveal that I know about it, too? It’s not like they enjoyed my visit with Reiner all that much. I’m sure they will seize any opportunity to get back at Reiner.
My eyes are fixed on the splintered wooden table, where his massive fists hadjust landed minutes ago, crushing it. I hope I didn’t just sign Reiner and me up for a death sentence. I slump in my chair, the tension slowly draining from my body, but the anxiety seeps back in. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil inside me. Then, I let out a sharp, involuntary gasp and begin to sob violently.
Thanks to that damn Fynn, that monster knows my name and where to find me—that fucking idiot. I shudder at the mere ideaand wrap my arms around myself for comfort. The sound of the doors opening makes me jerk my head up, my eyes widening in terror. I see Reiner's face, joyful, but the glee in his eyes quickly diminishes and shifts to sorrow as he takes in my red-rimmed eyes from the crying I’ve done and my shivering frame. His gaze glides from me to the damage to the table I’m sitting at. Within seconds, he’s by my side, kneeling as he wraps his arms around me, and I can’t hold back the fresh barrage of sobs and tears as I fall apart in his arms, the adrenaline fading. Goosebumps rise along my arms.
“I’m no longer leaving your side; tell me what happened. Now,” Reiner says softly yet demandingly.
I tell him about Faas’s visit, his threatening insinuations, his interest in Adira, and how Fynn was foolish enough to spill my name to that dhampir. Somehow, thanks to Fynn, I now have a target on my back. I fill him in on what I told Faas and what I withheld from him.
“Good girl,” Reiner praises me, “you did so well. You’re so strong. I’m so proud of you, baby.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and his praise and presence lift my spirits.
“What if Helda tells him the truth?” I whisper.
“She won’t. Sure, she’ll be impressed by the dhampir, but she doesn’t want my wrath or my coven's against her; you know what they are known for, Caria, being cunning. Lying and manipulating are what they do. I’m sure that old witch will spin and fabricate such an intricate web of lies for that dhampir that he has no idea where he needs to turn or to whom he can safely speak,” Reiner says confidently. “Don’t underestimate an elder of any coven, my love, especially not one of the Waning Gibbous. He’ll be treading unfamiliar territory. Helda might hate me, buttrust me. She’ll hate the dhampir more. He’s unfamiliar. With me, at least, she knows what she’s up against, how to deal with it,” he concludes.
I lean against him, my love, my rock, the only person who can ground me and keep my shadows sane. I let his words sink in, convincing me that Reiner knows best. Hako appears from the shadows and purrs against my leg. I stroke his shadowy head, my fingers disappearing into the black, smoky tendrils. Our shadows embrace each other lovingly.
“I believe you, my love,” I say softly.
“Let’s see if we can make this work in our favor. Let's tell the boy who’s infatuated with you that his new ugly dead friend threatened you.” He grins at me.
“Ugh, I’m sure he’ll puff up his chest and exclaim his desire to rescue me like I’m some sort of damsel in distress. He seems very keen on rescuing his death witch. You should have seen him when we encountered that dhampir before. I admit, I was surprised at his boldness,” I say.
I shake my head at the memory. Reiner and I both laugh at that notion until reality takes over and dawns on both of us. Faas made it clear he, too, has some interest in Fynn. He also wants something from him, but not by force; it’s evident he takes the route to gain Fynn’s trust for some reason. I just need to find out what that reason is, but clearly, he’s important to the dhampir, so if I want to stay alive, I need Fynn to be on my side and not shift.
As long as Fynn desires to keep me safe and makes that known, the dhampir will continue to tread on thin ice. The asshole ensures I feel threatened enough not to make a move against him, as if I can, as he’s unsure whether he can take the risk to end my life. I mull it over, but nothing comes to mind about why the dhampir wants Fynn to become his… friend… byhis own account, not because the dhampir tells him to. For some reason, it needs to be Fynn’s choice.
It’s an interesting predicament. I agree with Reiner’s statement that to protect myself, I have to tell Fynn what happened. I’ll find him tomorrow and exaggerate a little about what occurred, what the dhampir said to me, and dramatize my emotions, which will not be too hard, as I was afraid for my life the moment I met his lifeless gaze.
Watering Doubt
Fynn
