What choice do I have? Do I dare pin my hopes on Smithson’s mysterious slender man? Can we even find him in some twenty-odd days?
The other choice is, of course, to go back to The Haven. I would have to swallow my pride to do so. But there I will not be under any threat of imprisonment. And with Mother and Eleira both there, plus the surrounding wards…
I shake my head roughly. Going back to the place where I grew up would be the ultimate defeat. It would give me the most shame.
I take a deep breath. I hate, absolutely despise, this sort of indecisiveness. All this was supposed to be easy, dammit! I was supposed to find the one who knew about male magic in The Crusaders and learn from him. Not end up at a dead end!
I give a bitter laugh. No. I’m not being honest. This was never supposed to be easy. It was a Hail Mary, and of course it didn’t work. What could I expect?
I exit the little room and rejoin the others.
They all look at me expectantly. Even Smithson.
“Well?” I ask, somewhat impatiently. “What are you waiting for?”
“Err,” Victoria says. “What?”
“The Black Sorceress is coming after us. We have a little over three weeks to prepare.”
Victoria tilts her head. “Does this mean we’re not going to The Crypts?”
“Forget The Crypts,” I snarl. “We’re all vampires, and I’ll be damned if we cower for some measly human. So what if she can do magic? Her blood is no different from any of the thousands of others I’ve fed on. I will not let the threat of Cierra paralyze me, nor any of you!”
At my little speech, the others perk up.
“Paolo,” I say. “You were part of the pack. Your vampires looked after Cierra’s lair. Have you ever interacted with her?”
He steps forward. “Not personally,” he says. “We told you how it went. Chandler was her blood. He communicated with her in the Dream Realm. Or, more accurately, she passed on messages to him while he was asleep.”
“You were tasked with protecting her lair,” I say. “That means she was vulnerable.”
“Of course, she was vulnerable,” he says. “She was unconscious, asleep, for decades—centuries—in the woods.”
“How long were you part of the pack?”
“Are you asking me how old I am?” he bristles.
Age is a tricky subject for some vampires.
“I don’t care when you were made,” I say. “I just want to know how long you were in a position to watch over her.”
“I joined the pack midway through the 1900s.”
“Before then?”
“Before then,” he hisses, teeth clenched, “I was a wanderer. Well? Why does that matter?”
“It doesn’t,” I say. “You’re right, of course.” I offer him a devilish smile. “Sometimes I just like to know how far I can push a person.”
He makes a displeased sound deep in his throat.
“No matter,” I say. “You were one in Cierra’s presence, then, for a few decades. Smithson. When did your men extract the witch from her lair?”
“1983,” he says. “I remember the exact date and time. It was supposed to be the culmination of everything the Order had worked for.”
“And you just let them do it?” I ask Paolo.
“Chandler said she told him to allow it,” he responds. “You know all this. Why are you asking?”
I gesture to Paul. “For our newest fledgling’s benefit.” I face him. “That’s the abbreviated story of Cierra,” I say. “A powerful witch, who was also still human, who managed to extend her life for centuries through her magic. That is what we’re up against. She sabotaged me once before. And I know you cannot feel me, but I am the vampire here with the most strength. The others can attest to that—they know me from before I was cloaked.”
Victoria and April agree.
“You can feel how much stronger the others here are compared to you,” I continue. “And I am above even them. Despite that, when Cierra cornered me, she was able to…” I scowl, “…able to handle me like a babe. And you already know, thanks to the treacherous Sylvia, what Cierra did to Smithson’s prized facility.”
“Aye.” Paul agrees, his sharp eyes shining with some forbidden thoughts.
“So yes, even though Cierra is just human, she is no ordinary human. I promised her both the vampire blood and a vampire cure. We all know the latter does not exist.”
“Actually…” Paul utters.
My eyes seize on him. “Yes? Do you know something?”
“I didn’t hold it back,” he says. “I just didn’t think of it. The Crusaders know of an herb that nullifies the vampire powers. It is what my organization used for years, before modern technology was allowed to take over.”
“What?” I exclaim. “Why the hell did you not mention this before?”
“Somehow, it must have slipped my mind,” he says very, very sweetly.
I take a menacing step toward him. “In the future,” I say in a low growl, “there had better not be any other piece of information that slips your mind. Or your freedom as my fledgling will become very, very limited, indeed.”
Paul matches my eye contact one for one… until the very end, where he wavers and blinks.
Triumphant, I turn my back to him.
“So,” I say to the others. “We now have a small ray of hope. The trick will be to convince Cierra the effect is permanent. Of course, we will need somebody to demonstrate on.”
I whip back to face him. “Fortunately, we have a very willing volunteer right here!”
That threat does it. Paul falters, taking a step back. He opens his mouth to protest…
“Remember that you still have to demonstrate your absolute loyalty,” I remind him. “Being the bait can be a very good first step toward achieving that.”
“James,” Smithson says forcefully. “Again, you’re not thinking straight. If you want Paul to behave, threaten him with something realistic, like imprisonment. We all know you won’t risk his life. Not with how much we can do with him, through the Crusaders, with him alive.”
Paul seems to have regained his wits quite quickly. He steps between us.
“I will do whatever is asked of me,” he says smoothly. “Where my master sends me, I will go.”
I glance at him with suspicion.
“Sending Paul out to meet Cierra is an idiotic idea!” Victoria cries out. “Smithson’s right, of course we can’t risk him. Not with everything he represents.”
She turns to the leader of the Crusaders. “I will do it in your stead,” she says firmly. “If what you say about this herb is true.”
“Oh, it’s true all right,” Paul says, eyes glimmering. “Although I have a better suggestion, if James will listen.”
I motion impatiently for him to go on. “Spit it out.”
Paul smiles at me, then looks at Smithson. “My dear friend here is right. Threaten me with something real, James, or the utterance will lose its effect. However! It is not I who should be imprisoned—but Cierra.”
I bark a laugh. “You propose to know how?”
“I think I do,” he says slowly. He looks at Smithson once more. “You’ve seen the markings on Sylvia’s skull?”
Smithson’s face twists. “Your organization will one day be held responsible for those vile things.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Paul replies. “Of course, you are all aware that the Crusaders have worked with witches in the past? Our organization does not fear the occult. My father embraced whatever advantage they could get in their fight against vampirism.”
I look at the others. They are all listening very attentively.
“Go on,” I say.
Paul laughs. “If all you want to do is trap a witch, that is no problem. Smithson’s attempt failed because he has never pursued the right path.” Paul grows more and more confident as he speaks. “The witches who taught us about the runes on Sylvia’s skull also taught us other uses for them. The most important of which, in our scenario, are the ones that can completely block the Elemental Forces from entering a place.”