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He knows how to play this game, how to extract the information we seek without crossing the line.
I’m not sure I even know where the line is anymore. Or if there are any lines I’m unwilling to cross.
As Fintan begins his version of interrogation, I take a much-needed moment to compose myself. Manon doesn’t allow that for very long. My eyes dart back to the illusion of my maker, her ghostly figure lingering just beyond the reach of my grasp. She haunts me, a reminder of my past sins and the darkness that resides within me.
I close my eyes against the vision, trying to push her out of my mind.
The others may think I’m unhinged, but they don’t see what I see. They don’t understand the torment that accompanies the power I wield—the stress and the burden of this responsibility.
I am a leader. I have a hundred vampires who rely on me, and an entire parish to take care of.
It’s all too much sometimes.
Shoes scrape against the floor, and I open my eyes, watching as Finn kneels in front of our barely conscious prisoner, his presence radiating a calculated intensity. He locks eyes with the bound witch, his gaze piercing and unwavering.
He’s cleaned her up a bit, a scarlet-soaked towel lying at his feet, splotches of navy terry cloth barely visible under all the blood. She doesn’t look as bad as she did a few minutes ago.
The sleeve of her shirt is torn, her hair is a mess, and every part of her now has a red tinge to it, but otherwise the witch shows no signs of being beaten. There isn’t a cut on her.
Fintan must have given her some of his blood.
Was she really that bad off?
“Ye claim we’re on the same side,” Finn says, his voice laced with skepticism, coming eye-to-eye with the witch. “Prove it. Tell us where the missing amulet is hidden.”
The witch’s eyes dart between Fintan and me, a flicker of desperation passing over her face. “You don’t understand. The amulet is too dangerous in the Alpha’s hands. We can’t let him wield its power.”
I narrow my gaze. The witch’s words resonate within me, a hint of truth buried beneath her plea. I remain silent, waiting to see how this unfolds.
They were right, after all. The Moon Witches weren’t after the amulet when they ambushed us.
Fintan leans closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “If we are truly allies, then tell us where the moonstone amulet is, and we’ll consider letting you go. If not, well, I’m not sure I can hold him back.” He glances over his shoulder at me, and when the witch’s gaze follows, I flash her a fang-filled smile to drive the point home.
His threat is empty—we can’t kill her.
But she doesn’t know we won’t.
The witch swallows hard, her gaze locked on Finn. “I don’t know,” she says, voice quivering.
It’s a lie. Everyone in the room knows it.
She’s been careful until now not to tell any outright lies, but her terror is making her sloppy. Fintan is doing a good job.
He straightens slowly with a shake of his head. He tsks and turns his back to the witch, pacing with measured steps. He’s such a hypocrite. He and Rune may consider me crazy, but Fintan derives just as much joy from this as I do. Not in the same way, perhaps, but the result is the same.
“I thought we agreed we were on the same team?” he begins.
“The Sun Witch—she is—” the witch winces like she’s in pain, cutting off before she can finish a single sentence. “Josephine.”
Fintan’s eyes flicker with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. “Explain,” he demands, his voice firm.
“I can’t.”
The witch flinches with a pathetic whimper when Finn snarls at her.
“I literally can’t. I’m trying, but I can’t utter a word about—” she inhales and tries again. “You’re lucky I’ve been able to give you as much as I have.”
Rune throws up his hands. “You mean absolute fuck all?”
