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“Are we even sure this woman is the progeny of Claudette Dumont?” Rune paces in front of where Sebastian and I sit at the small table in Sebastian’s quarters.
Now that we’ve had a moment to reassess, he’s grown wary of her presence. Rightfully so—the last time there was a Dumont witch around, it almost destroyed our leader. Josephine has been in town only a few days and has already slipped under Sebastian’s skin.
“Her magic is strong,” Rune goes on. “Really strong. But what more proof than that do we have? The Dumonts fall off the earth for twenty-five years, not a soul knows where…”
He trails on, and Sebastian and I let Rune wear himself out. We’re used to how he gets worked. Vikings were big on pacing and brooding. He’s just worried about what this might stir up in Sebastian.
Old wounds and all that.
“Josephine may not be up to the standards of the Dumont witches of the past, but she is Celine’s daughter, all right,” Bastian comments.
He stares at the waves of amber in his glass as he sloshes it around the cubes of ice. Where has his mind wandered off to?
Mine won’t let me think of anything but Josephine.
My Unity Witch.
I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. I can barely do it mentally. I don’t want to jinx it.
More than that, how am I supposed to admit she’s mine to Sebastian when he’d salivating about torturing her like a feral cat with a trapped mouse?
“Let me talk to her on my own,” I say.
“What good will that do?” Rune stops pacing, but now won’t stop tapping the toe of his boot, still too pent up to stand still. “Do you think she’ll change her mind if you ask nicely? Dumont or not, she is a Sun Witch. Which means she won’t trust us.”
“She isn’t a regular Sun Witch,” I point out. “She didn’t grow up here.”
Sebastian stretches his neck from side to side, the soft pop of vertebrae letting go as he considers. “My vote is restitution for her mother’s transgressions.”
“You mean torture,” I correct.
“It’s what I’m owed after living this way for the last twenty-five years.”
“We know,” Rune and I say in unison.
We have been by his side for all those years, after all.
“With my gift, I can get through to her,” I insist, praying neither of them objects. “If I can’t, then there’s no harm done and ye can have yer revenge.”
My stomach drops as the words leave my mouth. Should it come down to that, I won’t allow Sebastian or anyone else to hurt Josephine.
I don’t know why, but the thought of Sebastian laying a hand on Josephine Dumont is enough to send me into a rage—like when Rune tried to take her from my arms.
I saw red and reacted without thinking. I was ready to fight my brother—my sire—and we share the strongest connection a vampire can have.
Worse, I was ready to kill Rune if he came between me and Josephine. All for a woman I know nothing about.
If this is what it means to have a Unity Witch, I’m not sure it’s worth it. I’ve always prided myself on my self-control, and I have already come dangerously close to losing that.
Whatever is going on between me and the Dumont witch, I need to figure it out and get a handle on things before either Rune or Sebastian intervenes and I do something I can’t take back. A vampire’s life is too long to live with the weight of destroying my maker.
“Let me at least try.” If there is any kind of chance of persuading Josephine to cooperate, I’m the one who will get through to her.
“Fine,” Sebastian says, pushing to his feet. “But when she gives you the cold shoulder, I’ll be in the vault setting up a little incentive for her to see things from our perspective.”
I stiffen at the mention of Sebastian’s private room—a separate section of the basement renovated to hold his prized devices of torture: the rack, the pear of anguish, the chevalet.
It’s where he originally wanted to take Josephine after we rescued her.
