Unleashing Echoes (Reconstructionist 3)

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  He laughed without mirth, then waved his hand offishly. “I was to be something of a backup plan, you see.”

  “He wanted you to turn him. To remake him,” I said. “If Kett didn’t.”

  “Exactly. But the wheelchair was a problem.” He flicked his gaze to Kett, then back to me.

  “You didn’t think your blood could heal him,” I said. “So he had a secondary plan. The children.”

  “I actually don’t know what he wanted with the kids,” Yale said dismissively. “Witches kidnapping witches isn’t any of my business. I was just the intermediary.”

  “And what were you to get out of it?” I asked. “Money?”

  “Of course.”

  “But that’s not all.”

  Yale shrugged.

  “A position of power,” Kett said. “Within the Fairchild coven.”

  “Being nomadic does wear after a century or so,” Yale said. “I’m sure you understand, Executioner.”

  Kett stared Yale down until the younger vampire turned his gaze back to me.

  “So if Kett didn’t remake Jasper, you were supposed to?” I asked, just to clarify.

  “If he got himself out of the wheelchair, even if only temporarily.”

  A flush of self-loathing ran through me at his confirmation. I’d allowed my ingrained hatred for Jasper to cloud my judgement, never following up on how he’d managed to be walking around with only a cane for support when I last saw him. I pushed away the self-recrimination, forcing my focus onto the task at hand.

  I glanced over at Jasmine by the stove. My best friend stood with her arms crossed, silently sneering at Yale.

  “And kidnapping Jasmine? Was that your idea or Jasper’s?”

  Yale didn’t answer.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, then allowed a smile of anticipation to spread across my face.

  A muscle in his jaw tightened.

  I lifted my right hand, placing my fingers on his knee and just barely keeping my bracelet from touching him.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, witch,” he said.

  “I never do.”

  Estelle chuckled.

  The kettle started to whistle. Jasmine removed it from the stove and began making tea.

  “Shall we retire to the parlor?” Estelle asked, already stepping farther into the house.

  I didn’t move.

  Yale flicked his gaze to Kett, then looked back at me.

  Kett stepped away, herding Copper through into the living room. Jasmine followed them with a teapot and mugs on a wooden tray.

  I didn’t move. Neither could Yale, not with my hand on his knee.

  “It’s just me and you now.” I spoke softly, completely nonthreatening.

  “They can still hear us,” he said crossly.

  “But they’re not close enough to stop me from hurting you.” I smiled.

  Yale laughed.

  “Do you blame me?” I asked coldly. “For Mania and Amaya?”

  Any and all expression faded from his face. “Why would I blame you?” he whispered.

  “Who do you think destroyed them?”

  The red of Yale’s magic flashed through his green eyes as the muscle in his jaw clenched again. I knew I was pushing him too far, that he might well be able to kill me before Kett could get back to the kitchen. But if I was going to get through the next couple of days, I was going to have to face off with a monster far more powerful than the vampire perched on the kitchen counter.

  “Did you think it was Kett?” I asked, leaning toward him seductively. “It wasn’t.”

  “You?” he spat derisively.

  I let the bracelet touch his knee, allowing its magic to lightly lick against him. To give him just a tiny taste of its destructive power.

  He flinched as he hissed through his teeth, holding himself stiffly in place.

  “Yes. Me.” I lifted my hand from his knee.

  “Why make an enemy of me, Wisteria?” he asked. “When it would only benefit you, during your transition, to be —”

  “Friends?”

  “Cordial.”

  “You touched Jasmine,” I said, finally allowing some heat to seep into my tone. “No one touches her without her permission. How do you think Jasper got in that wheelchair?”

  Yale nodded as if he’d already known what I was capable of doing. “I can see why the executioner picked you over him.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment.”

  “I know.”

  He laughed, but the sound was forced. “Going after Jasmine and Kett was a joint decision. The idea was to take the blood of the executioner. With it, I might be able to get Jasper out of the wheelchair.”

  “And if the executioner killed you and all your brood?”

  Yale cast his gaze to the tile floor. “I never thought it possible. I gathered that Jasper didn’t either, that he didn’t know the extent of the executioner’s … strength. Apparently, I was played.”

  “Or … maybe with Jasmine, Declan, and me out of the way, courtesy of you, Kett would have been forced to remake Jasper.”

  Yale lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Your uncle never asked me to kill you. Any of you. You’re important to him. Somehow.” He grinned nastily. “Maybe he just wants the pleasure of killing you himself.”

  “That must be it,” I said.

  Yale slid down off the counter. In my heels, we were almost the same height. I didn’t step back.

  He leaned into me, whispering, “London will be a revelation for you, Wisteria Fairchild. I look forward to seeing you there.”

  “You owe me a favor, Yale,” I said, ignoring his attempt to intimidate me.

  He stepped to the side so he could eye me incredulously. “I’ve paid my debt by answering your questions. And trust me, I’ve paid my debt to the Conclave twice over.”

  “Perhaps. Though they don’t know what you did to Ruby and Jack, do they? They don’t know how you’ve destroyed Coral’s mind. All of them witches. The Convocation is going to take exception. And the Conclave won’t risk their wrath, not over a masterless rogue.”

  “What do you want?” he snapped.

  “You’ll go to the Academy Hospital and help the reader heal Ruby’s mother. And I won’t turn the evidence of your involvement over to the Convocation.”

  He laughed sneeringly. “You can’t turn that over. It ultimately implicates your uncle.”

  “Don’t worry about that, vampire. I’m burning that all down in the morning.”

  “Plan to die with him, do you? Because that’s the only way you’re taking Jasper Fairchild down. I might be a vampire, but I know power when I feel it.”

  “I’m already slated for death.”

  Some emotion I couldn’t identify twisted across Yale’s face. “You Fairchilds are all the same.”

  “I’m not sure you know enough of us to make that judgement call. Though I can’t really disagree. For our conflicting purposes, at least.”

  We stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us willing to back down or to continue the conversation.

  “Estelle won’t agree,” he finally said. “And my movements are restricted at present. Thanks to this little conversation, I’ll be under her thumb for a decade, at least.”

  “And if Estelle does agree?”

  He shrugged, taking the moment to step back from me. “I’ve never tried to reverse the process …”

  “The reader and the healer likely only need to … see you in action.”

  He grinned. “Any time or place. For you, Wisteria.”

  I shook my head. “I won’t be there.”

  I turned toward the living room.

  Yale snagged my arm before I could step away, drawing my hand gently toward him — though his grip felt as though it might turn intense in an instant.

  “I look forward to renewing our acquaintance when you are … more. You will be an intriguing vampire.” He brushed a cold, dry kiss over the back of my ha
nd, obviously getting a better look at my bracelet in the process. “Might I suggest you leave the magical artifact behind when you come to London? Assuming you’ll be able to wear it at all.”

  “I won’t be there, either.”

  He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “No?” Then he leaned into me, whispering, “I hear differently. I hear the executioner is being called to heel, and that you are his punishment.”

  He paused, waiting for a reaction.

  I gave him none.

  “Oh, I like you, Wisteria Fairchild. I do hope the transformation and whatever Kettil has been drinking doesn’t drive you mad.”

  Then he dropped my hand and sauntered into the living room ahead of me.

  “No,” Estelle said before I’d even made it to the edge of the couch. “Absolutely not. The Conclave would never allow a vampire to walk through the halls of the Academy.”

  I hadn’t even made the request yet.

  The dark-haired vampire was perched on the edge of an overstuffed recliner cupping a mug of tea in her hands, enjoying the warmth and aroma. But she didn’t appear to be drinking it. Though she’d spoken to me, she was watching Kett, who stood at the front windows overlooking the dark yard, his back to the room.

  Copper was sitting as close to Jasmine on the couch as she could be without actually touching her.

  Yale smirked at me over his shoulder, then crossed to stand by Estelle.

  Jasmine rolled her eyes at me, but she didn’t interject.

  “Estelle …” I said.

  “You may call me grandmama.”

  That stopped me cold. Kett actually turned to look at his maker. She smiled tightly at him, then lowered her face to her mug, smelling the tea. “I thought you’d appreciate the courtesy,” she said to him.

  “It’s the implied strings that bother me,” he replied coolly.

  “Well, those are more than simply implied.”

  Kett turned his piercing gaze on me. “Please make your request, Wisteria. So we may move on.”

  I opened my mouth, but Estelle raised her hand to stop me from speaking.

  “You will be Kettil’s first child. Few vampires make it to elder status without expanding their bloodline, but still, I have only three other grandchildren. I suspect you will be my least favorite, but one never knows what the transformation … reveals. So perhaps I will be proven wrong. You will indulge me in this request.”

  I toyed with my bracelet. It was Kett’s reaction that was causing me to hesitate. I knew through hard-earned experience that familial relationships — or, more specifically, the claim of a relationship — meant little when it came to love and trust. I rarely even thought of my mother or father by those titles anymore, preferring the distance that calling them by their first names enforced.

  The Fairchilds — other than Jasper — might never go so far as to drain a family member of blood. But that simply meant their betrayals were subtler than I was suddenly imagining Estelle’s would be.

  That she would betray me the first chance she got, I knew for certain.

  She was watching me play with my bracelet. A tiny smile graced her face. She looked more human, lounging on the recliner. Then I realized she’d changed her hair, smoothing it back from her face with a thin, jeweled band, and allowing the remainder to curl down around her shoulders. Kett’s maker had updated her look, including a thin cashmere sweater over sleek, slim-legged black leather pants.

  The transformation was subtle, but it spoke volumes. Estelle was preparing to live in the twenty-first century. I was immediately uneasy about what exactly the ramifications of that change of mindset might be.

  I flicked my gaze around the room. Kett stood impassively by the windows. Yale looked bored out of his mind. Copper was snuggled so deeply into the couch that it was clear she was trying to hide from the three alpha predators currently holding court in the living room.

  I looked at Jasmine.

  “Better you than me,” she said. Then she grinned, trying for saucy, though I could see her concern.

  I dropped my hands to my sides, looking at Estelle steadily. “We request retribution … Grandmama,” I said. “Yale has kidnapped three witches that we know of. And allowed his progeny to abuse at least one of them.”

  “The children were never near Valko,” Yale snapped.

  Estelle raised a hand to silence him, narrowing her eyes in Jasmine’s direction.

  My cousin lifted her chin pertly, tilting her head to the side. To me, her neck looked perfectly unblemished. But, as Estelle had already indicated, the vampires could still see Valko’s bite marks marring her skin.

  Yale clenched his hands, then immediately loosened them.

  “Did you not teach your children to mind their manners?” Estelle didn’t look at the ruddy-haired vampire beside her.

  “Maybe Yale didn’t have the control he thought he did,” Jasmine said tauntingly.

  “I did not know that the witch was under the executioner’s protection,” Yale said acidly.

  Jasmine snorted. “Everyone in the room knows that’s a lie,” she said. “Even Copper.”

  Copper flinched at the mention of her name, sloshing her tea all over her lap. “Oh,” she cried. Then she stood and took three quick steps away from the couch, likely intending to flee to the bathroom before she realized what she was doing — running from a room full of predators. She froze in place, visibly forcing herself to relax, then slowly continued out of the room.

  “I was wondering if that one spoke,” Estelle said, more annoyed than amused.

  “When Yale kidnapped Ruby, he did so by convincing her mother that she didn’t have a daughter,” I said, trying to keep the conversation on track.

  “Clumsily,” Kett said.

  “The mother, Coral, is slowly going mad as her mind … fights itself. I have a reconstruction. I can show you, the Conclave, and the Convocation how Yale bit, then forcibly coerced a witch.”

  Estelle waved her hand. “No need.” Then she inhaled deeply, shifting back in the recliner as if carefully considering her options.

  Kett shook his head. “State your terms, Estelle. We must move on.”

  “I shall need introductions,” she said. “And Yale must be presented as a helpful contact, not the perpetrator.”

  “The team, including the reader, has seen the reconstruction,” I said.

  “Ah, well. Then what guarantee do I have that the Convocation won’t pursue the matter? I have taken Yale as one of my own, for the near future. He must heed me, but I also must provide him with a certain amount of … protection.”

  “My guarantee,” I said. “Jasper Fairchild will stand before a tribunal for these crimes. Yale’s involvement would be mitigated by his willingness to help rectify the situation.”

  “And if he cannot perform as expected?”

  “Has he done everything he can?”

  “Let’s suppose he has.”

  “Can you guarantee it?”

  “If I wish.”

  “Then the same holds.”

  Two almost-solid beams of light cut through the windows, shifting along the walls as they crossed the room. I glanced outside, spotting the SUV coming up the drive. Declan was returning with the pizza. I wasn’t certain that he’d be a great addition to the tea party.

  I returned my attention to Estelle.

  The dark-haired vampire set her tea down on a side table. Then she disappeared, reappearing directly in front of me before I could blink.

  Jasmine swore under her breath.

  I met Estelle’s dark gaze without flinching. I was already in the deep end, past the point of no return — with the Convocation and my family alike. More involved in the formal business of the Adept world than I had ever wanted to be. But cementing deals with the vampires lingering in the living room was actually the least of my concerns at that moment. So with that thought, I extended my hand toward the dark-haired vampire standing before me. My white-picket-fence bracelet glowed light blue on my
wrist.

  Estelle smiled at me, revealing the tips of her teeth but no fangs. “I’ll require a blood oath.”

  “No,” Kett said.

  “I don’t dabble in black magic,” I said. But I softened my refusal with a smile. “Grandmama.”

  “A token, then.” She turned to look at Kett rather than me.

  “No,” he said again. “She is not to be bitten. Not now, and not when she has been remade.”

  “It won’t be your choice then,” Estelle said.

  “Take her hand and her oath, or take nothing.”

  Smiling as if she’d gotten exactly what she wanted, Estelle clasped my hand. Though she held me delicately, I could feel the strength in her grasp. She could crush me without even trying. Had we both been witches, magic might have passed between us, indicating a light but binding oath. But vampires had other ways of enforcing their deals. Yale’s unwilling presence in the house told me that much.

  Estelle leaned forward, still grasping my hand between us. Her magic brushed my mind.

  I didn’t react. She was simply testing me.

  Lifting up on her toes, she pressed a possessive, almost bruising kiss on my left cheek.

  To my far right, the front door banged open in the entranceway. “Pizza!” Declan bellowed.

  Estelle dropped my hand. Then she was gone. I glanced around me. Yale and Kett had vanished from the living room as well.

  Jasmine groaned, flopping sideways on the couch. “It’s worse when there’s three of them.”

  Declan kicked the door shut behind him. I flinched at the sound, suddenly exceedingly aware that we were intruders in the house.

  “Some help?” he asked, crossing into the living room balancing five boxes of pizza in one hand. He held a half-eaten slice in the other.

  I turned to him, taking the top three boxes, then crossing through into the kitchen.

  Jasmine slipped off the couch, following the food before she was even fully upright.

  As I placed the pizza boxes on the counter, a pale flash from the other side of the window — the moonlight catching in Kett’s hair — drew my attention to the backyard.

  “Five pizzas?” Jasmine said from behind me.

  “I didn’t know what everyone wanted.” As Declan set his boxes next to mine, he followed my gaze out the window.