“Yes, I understand he was teaching you, and that he had donated his Garden District home to your school of witchcraft.”
I set the glass of wine down. “He had—has—and we’re all thankful for it. Thanks to him, the witches of New Orleans now have a place where they can go to learn about their kind freely.”
“And do they?”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”
“Learn, my dear. Do the witches come to learn?”
“Well… the school is new, so, there are only a few of us practicing.”
“And I suppose if this nonsense with the vampires hadn’t opened up like an old wound, there would be many more witches coming to learn in your school.”
“This isn’t just a conflict reopened. Those vampires attacked us when we were at our most vulnerable. Wrong doesn’t even begin to describe what they did to us that night, to our brothers and sisters. I wish you could feel the outrage I feel.”
“I am outraged. Believe me, I am.”
Tamara sipped her wine and allowed herself a second to relax. She swirled the glass in the palm of her hand and examined the liquid as it swayed with the motion. “And yet,” she said, “You would advocate for the vampires. You say they are innocent.”
“Some of them were with us that night,” she said, “They were attacked as much as we were.”
“And why aren’t they fighting their own kind?”
“They… are…”
“Ah, but the conviction in your voice fails you. You don’t know what it is the vampires are doing against their own kind, do you? For all you know, they’re all laughing behind your back as you squirm between both camps, vying for peace between our kinds. A peace that’ll never come.”
She had me. I tried not to make it clear on my face, but she had me. I knew Jean Luc and his family were doing their best to keep the situation under control, but didn’t know the extent of their activities or their plans. I had allowed them to keep the secret of their methods even from me, and trusted they were finding a way out of this mess. But so far, they had turned up nothing I could use—nothing that would help me confront the leader of the vampire pack that was hell-bent on destroying every last one of us.
Tamara walked over to where I was, her face softening. She set her glass down on the table and put her cigarette to rest on the ashtray. “My dear,” she said, “I don’t mean to frighten you. We’re sisters, you and I, bound by magick in a way no one else can ever be. I know we are both doing the best that we can to turn the tide of this war in our favor. You are a powerful witch, determined and brave, but I have something you don’t—something you need.”
“What’s that?”
“Experience, child. I like to think I know a thing or two about people. That’s why I have a proposition for you; a way for us to end this conflict.”
I pretended to have another sip of wine. “I came here to listen,” I said, “So I’ll listen.”
“Good,” Tamara said, walking across the room. “My proposition is this, Madison; if you were to join me, then with my experience and your power, we could end this once and for all.”
“Join you?”
“It’s not as ominous as it sounds,” she said, turning again with a wolfish smile on her face, “But think about it. You and I, together, would be an unstoppable force. We would be able to negotiate whatever truce we want with the vampires. We could drive them out if we wanted to, draw lines in the sand, whatever we want. We could have it all—peace everlasting.”
“Peace everlasting,” I said, more to myself than to her. “And you think we can achieve that only if I join your side?”
Tamara nodded, almost gleefully. “I want the same thing you do, child. I want peace. I want my home back.”
“You would drop your need for vengeance just like that?”
“Well, of course we would teach the vampires a lesson, but—”
“Teach them a lesson?” I asked, inching closer to her, head lowered, eyes narrow. “What kind of lesson?”
Tamara seemed to retreat from me, moving slowly toward the fireplace. “Humility, for one,” she said, “But we would also bring to bear the consequences of their actions.”
“And how would we do that?”
“An eye for an eye, child. They killed Remy, we kill of theirs.”
I cocked my head. “By burning them at the stake?”
“If we must.”
“You understand we will never have peace if what we propose is more death.”
“What I’m proposing is one final death to seal the deal.”
I shook my head. “Death and violence never solved anything. If I join you, I’m sending a clear message not only to the vampires, but also to the witches of New Orleans, that I’ve picked a side, and this isn’t about us against them—it’s about unity.”
Tamara picked up her wine glass and finished what was left in one long swig. “So, you won’t join me?” she asked.
A cold chill suddenly entered my body, and I found myself now checking over my shoulder and looking at the open door leading toward the front hall and the way out. I turned my eyes back at Tamara. “No,” I said, “Tamara, we all need—”
Tamara threw her glass against the wall behind me, causing it to shatter and send glass raining to the floor. My heart leapt into my throat and started to pound. I turned and headed for the door going into the corridor, but it was as if my feet were made of concrete—like running inside of a nightmare. I was nowhere near it when the door slammed shut on its own.
I turned to look at Tamara again. A freak wind had entered the room and started to circle the empty space, pulling and pushing curtains this way and that, causing a fire in the fireplace to grow almost unnaturally and begin flickering violently.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my hands already balled into fists by my sides.
“I really wish we could have worked something out,” Tamara said, “I hate to waste good talent.”
“I don’t—”
With a flick of her wrist, Tamara sent a wave of telekinetic energy hurtling toward me. The sofa shifted, scraping across the floor and bringing a corner of the carpet with it, then it took off and flew across the room. I threw my hands up in defense, pulled the power out from within me, and using my own telekinesis, took hold of the sofa as it flew and turned its path into a wall, away from me.
The sofa struck with a loud crash. One of its legs went into a window, smashing the glass and wedging itself there. By the time I turned my eyes on Tamara again, she had sent the wine bottle, glass, and tray flying in my direction. Again, I put my hands up, succeeding in turning the bottle and glass away, but I wasn’t quick enough to stop the tray the wine bottle had been sitting on from striking me on the side of the head.
My legs turned to jelly and gave way. I fell hard, landing on my shoulder as stars danced in front of my eyes. Blinking didn’t help to dismiss them, and when I touched the side of my head, my fingers came back warm and wet. Tamara loomed over me, her tall, dark frame blocking the light from the fireplace.
She was the last thing I saw before passing out.
CHAPTER NINETEEN