Tangled Echoes (Reconstructionist 2)

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  Kett smiled, though there was no warmth in his ice-blue eyes. “No one takes anything or anyone who is under my protection, Wisteria.”

  “And if they have? If they’ve already killed her?”

  “Then they are even more foolish than they appear to be.”

  As I tightened my grip on him, his gaze fell to my hand — or perhaps to the unnaturally shiny bracelet at my wrist.

  “Shall I offer you assurances based on unverified observations? Falsehoods to ease your fear?”

  Reining in the aching terror that felt as though it had been threatening to consume me for the entire day, I let go of him. I’d been gripping his forearm so tightly that my hand ached when I released it. “No.”

  I stepped back, glancing down at the note I’d left on the table. “Just tell me everything you’ve picked up from the reconstruction. Every observation that you believe I should have already made.”

  “Treat you like you are incompetent?”

  I laughed harshly, not looking at him. “Yes. For this moment.”

  “Very well. Three vampires —”

  “Four,” I interjected without thinking. “There’s another male who we saw in the lobby.”

  Kett didn’t continue. I tore my gaze away from the note on the desk, looking over at him.

  He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “I apologize for interrupting,” I said. “I’ll share my observations after.”

  “They are a brood, a shiver, which in and of itself is unusual, especially given their apparent youth.”

  “How is that different than a nest?” I asked, already having forgotten that I wasn’t going to interrupt again.

  “These vampires are blood related.”

  “Siblings?”

  “The one Jasmine referred to as Yale is their master.”

  “Nigel’s maker.”

  “Apparently.”

  “The target of your and Jasmine’s investigation.”

  Kett didn’t answer.

  Worried that we were nearing the end of the allotted time for my Q&A session, I blurted out my next questions. “Why kidnap Jasmine at all? If they wanted to talk with you, why not just arrange a meeting?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “She’s a bargaining chip, as Declan said. So that you’ll listen, rather than simply slaughtering them.”

  “They are woefully ill informed.”

  “Because you don’t simply execute any vampire that isn’t a member of the Conclave?”

  “Did I kill Nigel?”

  “You needed him.”

  Kett eyed me. “If you have steadied your nerves, perhaps we should move on so that the brood will return to retrieve your message.”

  I clenched one fist. And for a brief moment, I contemplated punching him.

  He curled his lip at me.

  “Caring about Jasmine doesn’t make me weak, vampire,” I said.

  “Wallowing in the fear of what might happen to her does, witch.”

  Kett’s tone was reserved and without heat, but his chiding was clearly articulated nonetheless.

  I looked away, carefully squaring the note I’d written so it was centered on the desk. Then I tucked the vampires’ note and the reconstruction cube into my bag.

  Intending to just walk away, I crossed by Kett. But then I stepped back to catch his eye. “It would be easy, or at least simpler, to blame this on you, Kettil. And the only reason I’m not doing so is that I just want her back. Are you going to help or hinder?”

  He eyed me dispassionately for a moment. “Help. If you’ll let me.”

  “If I’ll trust you? To side with witches over your own kind?”

  “A well-reasoned concern.”

  “I understand that vampires are rare. Perhaps even more so than the Conclave would allow us to believe. The careful language of the contract in my bag tells me that much.”

  “And I understand that trust isn’t a form of attachment either of us is well versed in.”

  I eyed Kett for a moment. He gazed back at me, unflinching.

  I nodded. Then I strode from the hotel room with an ancient vampire by my side. It was unnerving that he could draw a parallel between us so easily, but that was something to fret about after we got Jasmine back.

  Declan was waiting in the hall, leaning back with his foot belligerently up against the wall behind him. I nodded at him, and he offered me a stiff smile. Kett and he ignored each other as we crossed back to the elevators in silent acceptance of the situation.

  The odds were stacked against Declan and me — two witches versus four vampires — and we needed any aid or resources Kett could offer. And if Jasmine was tangled up in all this because of a job she was doing for Kett, for the Conclave, then the vampire was presumably almost as invested in sorting it out as Declan and I were.

  It was the ‘almost’ that gave me pause, though. If something else was going on, two witches versus four vampires could easily turn. But into what, I had no idea.

  Chapter 6

  Rose’s home, Fairchild Park, marked the outskirts of Fairchild territory in Connecticut. Even still, the family as a whole owned properties and businesses all over North America, including vacation homes in the Caribbean and Mexico. In one of which, apparently Jasper was currently vacationing in luxury even after everything that had happened.

  As children, Jasmine, Declan, and I had once spent an entire day walking the thirty-six miles from Fairchild Manor to Fairchild Park, where Rose fed us chicken and ice cream. Then Jasper arrived to retrieve us. The drive back had taken thirty minutes.

  That day, at the age of nine, I’d learned more about myself and the world I inhabited than I ever would again. I learned exactly how quickly my freedom could be snatched away. And I’d also learned that no adult would ever do for me what I was willing to do for Jasmine and Declan. If there were stands to be taken or sacrifices to be made, they weren’t going to be taken or made by any of the elder Fairchilds.

  So in the space of that single day, I’d learned how to endure. How to place myself between my family and the only two people I loved.

  I had learned how to bide my time. To grow strong. To absorb every scrap of knowledge that my family had to impart.

  Then I figured out all on my own how to turn that knowledge against anyone who would try to interfere with the bond between Jasmine, Declan, and me.

  On that day, the three of us had been smuggling a rabbit sentenced to death in the first of the many cruel training sessions that would shape our childhoods. We’d brought the rabbit to Rose for protection, hoping that she’d shelter all of us from Jasper. But now, as Declan drove the Jeep through the open gates of Fairchild Park and up the drive toward the large white house, death was riding shotgun.

  Declan dropped Kett and me at the front doors, pulling the Jeep through the wards and into the garage set back from the house. We had decided on the way over that it was better to approach Rose formally, presenting ourselves and Kett to the head of the Fairchild coven as any visiting Adepts would, rather than texting or calling ahead. But I found it interesting that Declan was already keyed to the wards on Fairchild Park, and that he apparently carried a garage door opener.

  Rose and Fairchild Park were considered the Adept authority and power in Litchfield — and, as far as witches were concerned, the entire Eastern Seaboard. As such, the property’s perimeter wards were normally simply a warning system, similar to a magical doorbell. Adepts could come onto the property to pay their respects without having to wait on the street. But those wards could be called upon to ruthlessly enforce the property’s boundaries if the need ever arose. So attacking a Fairchild on Fairchild land was beyond moronic.

  The vampires could come to the house to meet us — as I’d suggested in my note — but if they instigated anything, they wouldn’t be able to leave without a fight.

  A light rain had started while we were in the hotel, then continued as we made our way over to Rose’s. But the bright, almost perfectly ful
l moon broke through the clouds as we were approaching the drive. The house was a well-maintained five-bedroom mansion in the Greek revival style. Thick white columns flanked the well-lit front entrance, while white-painted siding and bold but simple moldings encased the two-storey home.

  White-fenced rose gardens dominated the large front yard, with various trees occupying the outer boundaries of the property. From late spring on, the yard would be a riot of color contrasting and playing off the white house and the neatly trimmed green lawn, but the bare boughs and branches were unremarkable in the gloom of winter. Though it seemed unlikely that Kett would give Rose’s carefully crafted gardens a second glance either way.

  My aunt would have known of our arrival the moment we drove onto the property, but she waited until I knocked to open the red-painted front door. The magical wards coating the house simmered between us. Rose’s wide smile dimmed slightly upon seeing the vampire standing to my left. Gazing at Kett, she snugged her quilted pink silk robe around her neck. Apparently, we’d roused her from her bed. The exterior light above the door accentuated her pallid complexion and shockingly thin face. As I’d had to at Grey and Dahlia’s, I tamped down on the unease that curdled in my stomach at the sight of whatever was ailing her.

  After a moment of taking in the impassive vampire, Rose looked at me expectantly.

  “Kettil, executioner and elder of the Conclave,” I said. “Rose Fairchild, head of the coven, member of the witches Convocation.”

  Rose grew even paler at the pronouncement of Kett’s titles, but he simply inclined his head, remaining silent. I was already well aware that the vampire was an expert at biding his time.

  “We seek respite while we await a message,” I said stiffly.

  Rose looked aghast. “You don’t need permission to enter, Wisteria. This is your … ancestral home.”

  “I believe it is best to keep our interactions professional,” I said.

  Rose looked as though I’d stabbed her in the chest. But then she quickly composed her expression, stepped back, and nodded for us to enter. The invisible wards shifted, creating a pocket through which we could pass unhindered.

  Kett swept his hand forward, indicating that I should precede him. He tilted his head my way, looking amused.

  I ignored him as I stepped into the entranceway. The library ran to our right, overlooking the front yard. Rose was already crossing through to the formal drawing room to the left. Treating us as guests.

  Kett slipped through the wards behind me as I strode after my aunt, noting that she’d updated the interior sometime in the previous twelve years. The white walls and wide moldings were freshly painted, and the wide planks of the dark wood flooring that ran throughout most of the house had been sanded, stained, and satin polished.

  The drawing room was situated through an open archway off the main entrance, as were the library and the dining room. The kitchen and utility rooms were at the back of the house. Sliding pocket doors between the various rooms offered privacy, but were rarely used. High ceilings ran throughout the house, and the decor was replete with cozy antiques.

  Rose crossed directly through the drawing room, a blazing fire flaring to life suddenly among the wood already stacked up in the brick fireplace. As she passed, my aunt lightly touched one of the two decorative urns on the mantel, both of which contained my grandparents’ ashes.

  I paused at the edge of the fringed rug, taking off my wool coat and folding it over my arm. An aqua-blue button-tufted sofa I didn’t recognize occupied the right wall. A second wide doorway to Rose’s right led into the dining room.

  Kett stepped just inside the room behind me, casting his impassive gaze over a series of framed miniature portraits on the wall above a round antique table topped with a large bouquet of white-and-pink roses.

  My aunt turned to face Kett and me. She looked desperately tired. Saddened. Almost infirm. And for the briefest of moments, I had to stop myself from rushing to her and doing whatever I could to alleviate the burden she carried.

  I straightened my shoulders, raising my chin.

  Rose grimaced, then sighed.

  Even the healer of the Fairchild coven knew how to play games.

  My aunt’s gaze shifted to the vampire. “We are pleased to welcome an elder of the Conclave. How might I be of assistance? A room? Perhaps some …” She faltered, most likely having been about to offer a vampire a midnight snack.

  “I have no requirement of a bed,” Kett said, as unaffected as always. “But a computer would be welcomed.”

  My aunt nodded. “In the library, off the entranceway.”

  “Thank you.” Kett nodded to me, then exited the drawing room.

  My aunt frowned, turning to the wide chair nearest the fire. She sat, curling her legs underneath her, watching the fire while she waited.

  “Declan is with us,” I said.

  She waved her hand absentmindedly. “He’s already in his room. The one across the hall from him overlooks the gardens and has been made up for you. I waited up for you after I returned from Dahlia’s.”

  “I’m not here for the view.”

  “I understand that, Wisteria,” Rose said wearily. “I assume you wouldn’t come here, with a vampire, without further evidence. You have a reconstruction?”

  “Of Jasmine’s kidnapping, you mean? Or of the four other vampires wandering around Litchfield?”

  Rose looked at me sharply.

  “Which one surprises you?” I asked.

  “Both,” she snapped. “As I expect you must already know. I’m too tired for games.”

  “I see.” Once again, I struggled to ignore the concern that her appearance evoked. But I was unsuccessful. “Are you … unwell? Your magic is —”

  “None of your concern. As you made clear earlier.”

  “Now who’s playing games, Aunt?” I posed the rhetorical question softly. I didn’t want to get caught up in some loop where Rose and I would display our bruised hearts over and over again for the other person to trample on. Partly because I already knew I would win that contest. And partly because my quarrel wasn’t with Rose. She hadn’t protected us a long time ago, and I wasn’t going to forgive her. But I didn’t want to drag it around for the rest of my life.

  Rose sighed, closing her eyes. “The only vampire I’ve seen in at least a dozen years is the one you just presented. Though how you came to know an elder of the Conclave is of great interest.”

  Not answering her, I slung my coat over the back of the chair I’d kept between Rose and me, untwining my scarf from around my neck to counter the heat of the fire. An elder of the Conclave equaled power. An abundance of power. So naturally, any Fairchild would have had their interest piqued by Kett’s connection to Jasmine. And to me.

  The fact that Rose, the nominal head of the coven, had no idea who Kett was — and seemingly less idea that there were vampires in Litchfield at all — only reinforced that someone else was possibly working behind the scenes.

  More importantly, her honest surprise at meeting Kett confirmed for me that Jasper had inked his contract with the Conclave without the knowledge or permission of his sister.

  But none of that was important. Not at that moment anyway. Not until Jasmine was safe.

  “Four vampires have kidnapped a Fairchild witch,” I said quietly, stating the facts but not passing judgement. “In Fairchild territory. And when Declan came to you, you all ignored him.”

  “He didn’t come to me.”

  “Would it have made any difference?”

  “Of course it would have!”

  “I wonder why he didn’t come to you, then?”

  Rose’s face twisted, pained. She started to say something, then checked herself. “How long will you be staying?”

  “For as long as it takes to resolve this.” I reached into my bag and pulled out the reconstruction I’d captured in the hotel room.

  Rose shifted up and out of her seat, crossing to me. I held the magic-filled cube out to her, bu
t she latched on to my arm instead.

  “I’ll make calls right away, Wisteria,” she said earnestly. “I’m sure it’s just some terrible mistake.”

  “Not for the first time,” I said, “I wish you were right.”

  “We will find Jasmine,” she said, gripping my arm. “And then can we please talk? We need you. And Declan. You are the next generation of Fairchilds. It’s time for you to take your place among us.”

  “Me and Declan,” I echoed, laying on the sarcasm.

  “Yes. We need you both. I’m happy to play intermediary, but it won’t be necessary. Because everyone knows this needs to happen.”

  “Or what?” I whispered. “What is this really about? Jasper?”

  Rose dropped my arm, taking the reconstruction instead. “Of course not. I know how you feel.”

  “Do you?”

  She looked up. Wearing just her slippers, my aunt was a few inches shorter than me. Tears edged her bright-blue eyes. “I do. I know what it’s like to feel … powerless.”

  I met her gaze steadily, steeling my heart against the desire for everything she was offering to be true. To even be realistic. “I’m not powerless.”

  She nodded.

  “And if I find that any Fairchild has had anything to do with Jasmine’s kidnapping —”

  “I heard you before, Wisteria.” And as suddenly as the soft-hearted healer had appeared, the head of the coven stood in her place. “I’ll review the evidence you have collected, and I will reach out. This will be solved by morning.”

  Rose strode out of the room, the pink robe billowing after her like a cape of indignation. Misplaced indignation — my family’s most unifying attribute.

  I retrieved my coat and followed my aunt out through the foyer. While she crossed through to her office situated at the far end of the library, I headed upstairs. I should have checked in with Kett, who was likely attempting to access Jasmine’s data online with the password she’d left us in the hotel room. But I needed a moment to myself and I’d most certainly fry any electronics I went near in my current state.

  I just needed a brief reprieve from the never-ending onslaught of emotion that came from even thinking of my family, let alone conversing with any of them.