All the while, poor twenty-four-year-old Iliana, who had never had a suitor, quietly seethed. It started out as annoyance tinged with jealousy. With a little help from Amaia, it quickly turned to anger. At that point, Amaia discovered she didn’t need to maintain her interference. Once the anger reached a certain level, it carried itself onward without any direction from her.
The only problem was Iliana’s natural shyness. It seemed mere anger would not be enough to cause the kind of entertainment Amaia sought. Even without Amaia’s senses, it was easy to see the girl was furious. Her cheeks flushed, and her small hands clenched into little white-knuckled fists. Yet she didn’t make any move to halt Elena’s incessant chatter.
Amaia needed to induce rage. She reached out and intensified the anger. Her energy wove through Iliana’s, twisting it and increasing the vibrations. All the while, she kept her eyes on her subject, looking for visible evidence of her work. It was a bit of an experiment. She had only ever worked with feelings of love and fondness.
Amaia saw the change in Iliana a split second before Iliana bolted to her feet. “Will you kindly shut up, Elena! No one cares about your stupid wedding.”
Silence fell over the room. No one looked more surprised by the outburst than Iliana herself. Elena was too shocked to even respond. She simply stood with her mouth hanging open.
Iliana was worked up enough that Amaia could leave her be and focus on Elena. Nothing would come of the situation if Elena didn’t respond properly. The trick was to pull Elena’s outrage to the forefront to overshadow her surprise. It wasn’t hard at all.
“Well it’s not my fault you’re too homely to find a man. You’re just jealous.”
Iliana screamed and lunged at Elena, pulling her hair. Elena responded in kind, slapping Iliana before grabbing a fistful of hair. The other ladies shrieked in alarm. Within a minute, the men tumbled into the room to investigate the disturbance.
“What is the meaning of this?” Elena’s father’s booming voice echoed in the room, bringing the commotion to a halt.
“She started it, Papa.”
“Well I’m ending it. Come along. We are leaving.” Calming himself, he turned to the rest of the party. “My sincerest apologies for my daughter’s behavior. I bid you all a pleasant evening.” He nodded to the group and left with Elena in tow.
Lawrence nodded to Amaia. “It’s about time we were leaving as well. Goodnight, everyone.” Lawrence bowed and Amaia curtsied, barely able to contain her glee at the scandalized faces.
“I take it that rather shameful display was your doing?” Lawrence sat next to Amaia in the carriage on their way home.
Amaia giggled at the memory of Elena pulling Iliana’s hair until a fair chunk of it came out. “I only intensified the feelings simmering beneath the surface.”
“Good. You played their natural tendencies to your advantage. Someday, you may even be able to create animosity where none existed.”
The possibilities were endless. Real power lay in front of Amaia, seeming even more impressive when she considered that she was the only known vampire who could wield it.
“You improve quite quickly when you’re not distracted by other things.”
Amaia met Lawrence’s cool blue eyes. He knew. Somehow, he knew. The exact depth and breadth of his knowledge was uncertain, but he knew Amaia wasn’t as innocent as she would like him to believe. Amaia scanned his eyes and face, but she couldn’t find any anger there, just knowledge.
Amaia wasn’t able to conjure a response. Anything she thought of admitted to too much or not enough. She didn’t have the nerve to simply brush by it without acknowledgement. There were grave implications to Lawrence being aware of what had transpired. The fact that he wasn’t lecturing her or showing any signs of disappointment was evidence of his faith in her. She didn’t know if she was worthy of it.
Chapter 27
Cluj, January 1723
“You may go out with Meg if you like.”
Amaia hadn’t said anything on the way home and was grateful for Lawrence’s dismissal—spending the rest of the night in tense silence wasn’t appealing. She didn’t even bother responding before she left, headed toward Meg and Liam’s home.
Meg opened the door to her one-room cottage before Amaia could even knock. It was a quaint stone structure between the town and the forest, the perfect location for a pair of reclusive vampires. Their apparent domestic tranquility sparked a longing in Amaia that only faded when she reminded herself that she was independent by choice.
“I was hoping you’d stop by. It’s been a while.” Meg was all smiles. It always awed Amaia that, no matter the circumstances, Meg was always happy to see her.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize. Do you want to come in, or did you want to go somewhere?”