by Wendi Wilson
“Everything okay with you?”
Her question snapped me out of my internal debate, and I looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Oh, so now you care?”
True’s look of shocked hurt was like a spear straight to my heart. The haze of anger evaporated, and I was left with nothing but guilt.
“Shit, True. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I offered, begging her with my eyes to forgive me.
“It’s… okay,” she replied, and that tiny gap between the two words felt like the Grand Canyon of pauses.
“I’m really sorry,” I repeated, and she shook her head as if it were nothing.
But I knew it was something. And I needed to fix it.
“Everything is fine,” I said in a rush. “Tell me again what Xander said after he brought us home last night.”
Her face lit up then, my bitchy response all but forgotten. I kept my eyes focused on hers, nodded and smiled at all the right moments, and by the time lunch was over, things were mostly back to normal between us.
If normal was True being so focused on a boy that she didn’t have room in her brain for anything else.
But I would have to talk to her about that later. Right now, I needed to meet Warren for our training session. And I had to swing by my cabin first.
Once I changed into yoga pants, a sports bra, tank top, and athletic shoes, I grabbed what I came for and rushed up the path to the field where we practiced. Warren was already there, looking scrumptious in a tight, fitted t-shirt and loose-fitting athletic shorts.
What the f…?
Several questions scrolled through my mind as I stomped toward him. Why was he wearing that? He’d never dressed like that before, and it just so happened to be one of my favorite looks on a hot guy. Did he somehow know that? And scrumptious? Who used that word, even in their thoughts?
Not me. Which was why I was pretty sure he somehow put it there. Some kind of subliminal message. The power of suggestion. A psychic melding of the minds.
Or just plain old vampire compulsion.
“You son of a bitch,” I gritted out when I reached him.
I planted my palms against his chest and gave him a hard shove. He barely moved an inch, which only served to increase my anger. I wouldn’t be surprised if steam was pouring from my ears at this point.
“Piper, what is it?” he asked, his face an image of innocent confusion.
“Don’t bullshit me, Count Thornberry,” I spat, mocking his official title. “I know what you’ve done.”
“I can honestly tell you I have no idea what you’re talking about. Please calm down so we can talk about this rationally.”
Did he just tell me to calm down? Oh, hell no.
I reached into the waistband of my yoga pants and pulled out my weapon. It didn’t matter that Levi told me not to let Warren know about the dagger. I didn’t care if he used my possession of it against me and tried to have me arrested or detained by his vampire bodyguards waiting in his over-the-top SUV.
Nothing else mattered but my anger and the need to make him pay.
As Warren’s eyes landed on the knife in my hand, his eyes widened, and he took a step back. His retreat felt amazing, and a sense of power rushed through me.
“Admit it,” I said, making a little jabbing motion toward him with the dagger.
“Admit what? Where did you get that?” He pointed at the blade.
I jabbed toward him again, careful not to actually touch him with it. I wanted him scared enough to tell me the truth. Not dead.
“Admit that you’ve been using compulsion on me.”
“I would never do such a thing, Piper,” he said, looking a little too shocked and innocent.
I arched a brow and pointed the blade lower, toward a spot he’d definitely not want me to destroy with its magic. He shielded his crotch with his hands and pressed his knees together.
“Fine,” he said, lifting one hand to point at me. “Piper, where did you get that, anyway?”
“Tell me the truth, Warren,” I ordered, ignoring his question.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly, his dark eyes piercing mine. “I admit it. I used compulsion to get you to tell me what kinds of things you find attractive so I could use those details to attract you to me.”
“When?”
“On the first day of our training.”
I wracked my brain, but I couldn’t remember that happening. It was really strange, knowing in my bones that something happened, but having no memory of it at all. I shook my head and pointed the blade back toward his chest.
“What else?”
His eyes drifted closed and a pained expression twisted his handsome features. He sighed again and said, “I may have planted a teeny-tiny suggestion that makes you find my touch… pleasurable.”
“Dammit. I knew it,” I growled, the urge to stab him with the dagger nearly insurmountable. Somehow, I quelled the impulse and took a small step back. “How could you?”
My stupid eyes started to burn, and I blinked against the sensation. I refused to cry. I refused to show any weakness.
Even though Levi had warned me not to trust the Count, I’d somehow let him slip through my guard. Somehow, I let myself believe we’d been friends. That he cared about me and my safety.
“Why?” I asked when he didn’t respond to my last question.
“That’s your easiest question yet, Piper Williams,” he said, an earnest look on his face. “Why does any man try to get under the skin and into the heart of a beautiful, strong woman? I want you for myself.”
Chapter Eleven
Warren Thornberry might have been an honest-to-God count and an insanely rich vampire, but he was the biggest ass on the planet as far as I was concerned.
So, why was I walking up the steps to his house?
Because you’re a glutton for punishment?
I shook my head as I stopped on the wide, stone steps leading up to the Thornberry Estate. The ten-million dollar home spread out in front of me, making my eyes hurt with all its splendor. I had another training session with Warren on the schedule, this time at the mansion. The kids were making macramé with Miranda today so I had the free time. Sasha had driven me, but she left as soon as my feet hit the pavement. She had to get back to her regular duties. Since Levi had been gone, Sasha had become someone I could rely on, making time to help me in whatever way she could.
Oh, Levi. Where are you?
I hadn’t heard from him in two weeks, and there wasn’t a word invented yet for how worried I was. What if he was lying in a ravine somewhere, hurt? Or worse, dead? How could I go on without him?
And what in the hell was I doing messing around with Warren Thornberry in the meantime?
I shook my head at the thought. Warren had compelled me on at least two occasions that I knew of—erasing any memory of how he’d manipulated me into telling him what I found attractive, and then adding in the suggestion that I should find his touch pleasurable. Those facts alone should have me running for the hills.
So why wasn’t I?
Well, for one, I still needed to learn to defend myself. My father had been killed by vampires for what he knew. Considering all the time I’d spent in the company of vampires lately, I knew a hell of a lot, too. At any minute, a vampire could decide I knew too many of their secrets, then it would be the end of me.
The second reason was more selfish. It felt good to fight, to get out some of the pent up frustration I felt when I thought too long about Levi, saw True with Xander, or got the cold shoulder from Rose. Punching and dodging was one of only things that took my mind off of how shitty everything was right now.
The last reason was more complicated. I wanted to ask Warren what he knew about witches.
The information Chef Zelda had given me had piqued my interest. I had experienced one vision. Could I do more than that? Would more visions come? True had only ever had one.
And apparently, my father had one, too. That night in th
e cabin, when Sarah tried to kill me and everyone I cared about, she’d told me about my dad’s time as a counselor at Camp Shadow Lake. She’d been feeding on him and compelling him to forget it, but he’d eventually gone to the old dean, raving about a dream he’d had about someone attacking him and drinking his blood. Killing him.
A vision of his eventual death.
Would it be the same for me? Were my visions of the one-and-done type? I wanted to know. And who could better tell me about it than an old-ass vampire who’d been around the block a time or two?
But I’d have to risk getting close to him to get what I wanted.
The blade was in my bag. I carried it on me all the time now. Warren hadn’t liked me having it—was downright pissed that Levi had given it to me—but he’d let it slide considering he’d just told me he’d compelled me. Twice. He’d warned me not to show anyone else, and advised me not to train with it, but there was no stopping me from bringing it along today. I wasn’t stupid.
Let that asshole try to compel me. He’ll have a few less appendages.
Whoa. Badass Piper was on fire today.
With my mind made up, I walked up the remaining steps. Before I could knock, the ornate wooden door swung wide, and one of Warren’s servants appeared in the doorway.
“Ms. Williams, Mr. Thornberry is expecting you. Please follow me.”
I followed the vampire I affectionately called Lurch in my mind—because of his height and large forehead—down a hallway with polished tile floors and fresh flowers blooming in expensive vases. The lavishness of every item in this place hurt my brain. A gold and crystal chandelier sparkled above the twin staircases that lead up to the second floor, and an antique clock that looked like it belonged to the Queen of England announced I was here.
The immense wealth was both breathtaking and kind of disgusting considering there were starving people in the world. He really did have more money than he knew what to do with.
“This way.” Lurch led me through the industrial-sized kitchen, which smelled strongly of lemon, to a wide, sliding glass door. Through it I could see an amazing back patio and lawn that seemed to stretch for miles with decorative gardens on either side and trees beyond that. Warren stood on the patio in the sun, a fact that surprised me since it made vampires, even old ones like him, uncomfortable. Maybe he was trying to prove how tough he was, or maybe he was a glutton for punishment just like me. He wore his training clothes—the same ones he knew I found attractive— and a wide smile on his face.
He approached me as I walked up. “You came. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Neither was I.”
His eyes traveled over my body in a quick sweep, landing on the bag over my shoulder. “It’s in there, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “It’s for my protection. As you said, I need to be on my guard all the time around vampires. They can’t be trusted.”
He smirked. “Touché. Shall we begin or would you rather sit and have some light refreshments first?”
He gestured to a large patio table where Lurch was setting out drinks and finger sandwiches. I didn’t miss the platter of cookies that happened to be my favorite. How he’d learned that little tidbit…
“I have some questions first.” I stared him down, letting him know I meant business.
He gestured with a flick of his wrist. “Go ahead.”
“Where’s Levi? We should have heard something by now.”
“I did hear something. They checked in last night. Said they were fine and were making progress but couldn’t talk much for fear of listening ears.” He touched one of his.
I frowned, realizing I had no way to verify if this was true or not. But if Levi could communicate with Warren, why hadn’t he once tried to reach out to me? Or, at least Dean Purty? It felt all too much like Coco for my liking, but what could I do? Use the knife and try to pry the truth out of Warren? That would literally cut our question-and-answer session very short.
“Fine. My next question has to do with witches.”
He raised an eyebrow as a pleased smile rose on his lips. “Witches?”
“Yes,” I said, working up to it. The sun was hot, and I was starting to regret this whole situation, but I pressed on. “Chef Zelda, do you know her?”
He nodded. “The new hire to replace Chloe.”
“Yes. She mentioned something to me about sight, visions, and witches.”
Warren cocked his head, appraising me. “And you want to know if you are one?”
I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek.
“Now, that is an interesting question, Piper Williams. I will tell you what I know about witches, but can we sit in the shade? This sun is killing me.” He gestured to the table with the refreshments. Lurch had cranked open the umbrella in the center.
“Fine,” I said, realizing if this was going to take a while, standing in the hot sun wasn’t the best idea. I needed him to tell me the truth, not melt into a puddle from too much sunlight.
We walked over to the patio table and each took a seat, sitting across from one another with the spread between us. There was what appeared to be fresh squeezed lemonade in a sweating glass pitcher, cucumber sandwiches, a decorative cheese tray, and macaroons to name a few items. I realized, as I took a couple of items and put them on my plate, that this was all for me. Vampires didn’t eat.
I glanced at Warren, ready to thank him for his generosity, but then realized this might all be part of his plot. It certainly felt like it. Instead of showing my gratitude, I stopped taking food and asked my question again. “So, what do you know about witches?”
He sat back, staring at me through his sunglasses. “Quite a bit actually. I was on a council comprised of vampires and witches for a few decades starting in the sixties. Very groovy times.” He made a peace sign with two fingers.
“So how many witches exist, and how do they know they are witches?”
“Most are born into witch families. The children show abilities and the mothers, or fathers, are able to guide them. Some aren’t so lucky and figure things out when they are teens or adults.”
This puzzled me. I wasn’t born into a witch family. But then something had been bothering me for a while now. Something I hadn’t really thought about, much less talked to anyone about. How had my father known he would need a cabin with a hidden floor compartment on the day of his death? Most houses didn’t have that feature. Ninety-nine out of a hundred didn’t. And yet, he’d rented one that did, a place to hide me, to keep me safe.
To keep me alive.
Had he known? Had he seen that something was going to happen and planned for it?
But if so, why had we gone in the first place? Why hadn’t we grabbed Mom and drove as fast as we could in the opposite direction?
“What troubles you, Piper Williams?” Warren leaned forward until I met his eyes.
“Am I a witch?” I blurted out.
He nodded slightly. “Maybe. You had a vision, you seem to have extra-sensory perception when we train, and your father had powers.”
My eyes flew wide, but I didn’t deny or confirm the statement.
A smile toyed on Warren’s lips. “A little birdy told me about your conversation with Chef Zelda, so I anticipated your question. I checked with some of the vampires who worked at the camp with him. They said he claimed to have envisioned something that then came to pass, a camper who nearly drowned. Your father was the one who dragged the kid out of the water. Saved his life.”
Wait, he was also listening in on my conversations? Ass! I saved that tidbit for later and honed in on the piece of information that was making my heart pound wildly out of control.
I shook my head trying to take this in. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
“What was there to tell? One vision doesn’t a psychic make, right?”
Actually, it was two visions, asshole. But if he wasn’t going to mention the vision Dad had about being killed by vampires, then neither was I. His condescending eyebrow went
up again. It was starting to irritate me. This whole conversation was. Why did I feel like Warren was toying with me?
“So then… my dad was a witch?”
“A warlock,” he corrected, lifting a finger before pouring himself a glass of lemonade and taking a sip. “And, probably not a very powerful one, or he would’ve seen his own death coming.”
But he did, I thought. He’d known. Sarah told me all about it. Was it possible this was something Warren didn’t know?
But why had Dad and I gone to the cabin in the first place?
I closed my eyes as my head swam with fresh and baffling information. Had Mom known? Had my paternal grandparents had powers? They were both dead—one from cancer and one from a heart attack—and my father was an only child. There was no one left to ask.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
Warren’s hand rested gently on mine. “Piper, if you’re a witch, that’s great news. It means you have more defenses than you realize.” His eyes trailed up as he said, “Maybe we could get Zelda to train you.”
This was even more information, but my brain was full. I couldn’t process anything further. “Let’s just do some sparring. I need to get up and hit something.”
Warren was up before the last words left my mouth, ready as always to put hands on me. Well, maybe he wouldn’t like it so much if I actually kicked his ass this time like I’d been trying to do all along.
Could I use my powers to sense his movements? How?
We stood up, walking over the grass until we came to a shady spot beneath the tall trees edging the large section of woods that ran along the perimeter of his property. Warren stretched out his muscles, looking excited. “Today we’ll do some holds, and you’ll attempt to break out of them.”
“Oh, really?” I said, smirking as I readied myself. “Is this just another ploy to get close to me?”
I expected a flirty comeback, but suddenly, Warren went completely still.
“What are you—”
“Shh!” He held his hand up as his eyes locked onto something in the trees behind us.
“What is it?” I asked, my body suddenly alert.
