“They’re turning faeries,” I repeated dully.

  “We just said that,” Morgana said with a frown.

  I resisted the urge to hex her. It was a reflex born of my early years in a coven. Nothing made you a target faster than a pesky Y chromosome. Morgana had recovered her haughty attitude quickly, making up the difference with added vitriol. I was sure her lapse in dignity appalled her. I’d pay for it when she wasn’t being hunted by almost every undead in the castle.

  “How did they even get the idea to try?” Taliyah asked.

  “Jack Collins,” Rook muttered darkly. “According to Desmond Valserak’s records, Jack was dating a brownie from the day class. I’m sure he was just dating her for her blood... he’s basically a junkie, always losing control of his thirst. Anyway, Jack drained her and killed her. Then tried to fix it by turning her, not knowing what he was about to create.”

  “Valserak helped him sweep the whole thing under the rug,” Morgana added, nose scrunching in disgust. For once, we were on exactly the same page. “For his own purposes, of course.”

  “From there, it became a plot,” Rook continued. “Target faeries that no one would miss before moving on to bigger targets. Of course, by the time the administration might care enough to look into the missing students, it would be too late.”

  The implications of that were horrifying. They’d already captured and turned at least four test subjects, and potentially more we’d never heard of. Not every faerie child who lived in the area went to Blood Rose, so there could be dozens of others we didn’t know about. Astrid and her fae friend had been gone for well over a week now. Long enough to be turned and begin the brainwashing process.

  “Astrid is smart,” Taliyah said, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “She had the presence of mind to alert us that something was amiss with that letter and later, with the rat. That means if she is with that Valserak asshole, she won’t let him know what she is.”

  “What makes you so sure?” I asked.

  Taliyah pointed at the rat. It was happily nibbling at the remnants of Morgana’s stale granola bar, ignoring the rest of us.

  “That rat right there,” Tally answered with a smile. “I don’t think Valserak knew what he had with Astrid. If he did, she wouldn’t have been able to send her little messengers to the castle with a mission. He would have had eyes on her at all times. And undead or alive, Astrid’s still able to use magic since she is fae. If I had to guess, she’s just biding her time, waiting for us to find her, and now that we have more of the puzzle pieces in place, we’re closer than ever.”

  If she was trying to make me feel better, she was failing. Because if Astrid was undead, it meant that she’d been savaged by Valserak before she died. She’d been at the mercy of a vampire like Janeth, who would have turned her for spite and his own sick amusement. I shuddered, my free hand automatically finding one of the upraised scars Janeth had left on my skin. I had them at almost every major pulse point. There were nights I woke in a cold sweat, convinced she was waiting in the shadows to finish what she’d started. And to think of someone similar hurting my sister...

  Morgana followed the motion, her lip curling when she caught sight of the white scar tissue on my wrist. “Acting as a vampire’s juice box, warlock?”

  “For once in your pampered life, just keep your mouth shut,” I hissed at her.

  “Maverick didn’t ask for what happened to him,” Tally said, eyeing Morgana with cold fury.

  “Astrid and I were captured,” I said as I glanced down at them, feeling the horror all over again. “I was tortured.” I looked up at Morgana, only to find her haughty expression gone. In its place was something I didn’t recognize. Shock, maybe. “And now thanks to the pair of you, I wasn’t around to stop it from happening again... only this time... to my sister.”

  “Taliyah is probably right,” Morgana answered. “I would wager that Desmond doesn’t know Astrid has faerie blood.”

  “Which means if he turned her, he did it for his own fucking satisfaction,” Rook spat the words out and I could see the anger in his face. I didn’t know what to make of it.

  “I should never have let her come here,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I knew she’d be in danger. If she was home, she’d be alive. I should have insisted she stay in Haven Hollow. It’s my job to protect her, and I failed utterly.”

  My voice cracked on the word ‘protect’ and I tore my gaze away from the self-satisfied witch. I really wanted to hex them both. If they hadn’t pulled Astrid into their foolish plans, she’d have been safe. Well, safer. Vivian had made it her life’s mission to tank Astrid’s prospects here, but Astrid would have found a way to push through. That was my plucky, red-headed sister. Always defying expectations. But she’d fallen in with this crowd, and doing so had probably gotten her killed.

  “I tried to keep her out of it,” Rook whispered. “I avoided her, tried to tell her to stay away from the night class and our business, but she just... she wouldn’t listen!” He looked at Morgana then and I could see hostility in his eyes. Clearly, he didn’t like her. “Then Morgana and Oleander roped Astrid into dismantling Aurea’s wards and we found out about her fae half and no one wanted to let her go by that point. The ability to shift through faerie was just too valuable.”

  “The what?” Taliyah interjected, narrowing her eyes at him. “Repeat that.”

  Morgana and Rook exchanged a bemused glance. It was Morgana who spoke first.

  “The Sidhe possess the ability to step through the veil and enter Faerie at will. Then they can emerge anywhere else in the world. It’s easiest to cut through your own court. Autumn, in Astrid’s case.”

  “How is that even possible?” Tally asked, more to herself than anyone else.

  Morgana shrugged. “The magic is complicated in theory, if not in practice. Imagine scrunching a rug to bring two points in space closer together. It takes a lot of energy and it’s never clean. You leave elements of your court behind. Astrid was getting pretty good at it before she disappeared.”

  “So that’s why Fox scatters leaves through my office every damn time he comes to visit,” Taliyah muttered. “I thought he was just being an ass.”

  At the mention of Dickhead Reynard, I immediately sat up straighter and Tally leaned over, putting her hand on mine. Both Morgana and Rook followed her hand with their eyes though I didn’t know what they were thinking. Both had expert poker faces.

  “Shouldn’t you know this already?” Morgana asked Taliyah suddenly, quirking a brow. “You’re obviously High Sidhe. Pureblood too, if I’m reading you right. Astrid was only a changeling.”

  “It’s complicated and we don’t have time for my sordid backstory,” Taliyah said, waving away Morgana’s question with a grimace. I was pretty sure even if we had had the time for a story, Tally wouldn’t have given it—no doubt she didn’t trust either one of them as far as she could throw them. The same went for me.

  “If what you’re saying is true, and Astrid still has magic and the ability to shift through the veil, she could be safe from Valserak already,” I said.

  “Actually, I’d bet that’s exactly what happened, given that the rat led us to these two, not to Astrid,” Tally said as she looked at me. “That means our priority should be finding the professor and knocking his fangs loose.”

  I didn’t like it.

  It was assuming a lot of things.

  That Astrid had the energy or privacy to slip away. That she had any inkling I was here at all and that this meeting hadn’t been a happy accident. And it was assuming that Valserak hadn’t killed her in the meantime. But Taliyah was right about one thing. If I wanted answers, thrashing the bloodsucking bastard who’d assaulted my sister was the best place to start.

  I cracked my knuckles. “Let’s go find this bastard. I want to have a word with him.”

  ***

  “Is glamor supposed to be itchy?” Rook wondered aloud.

  The annoying vampire sat straight-backed in one of the antique chairs dotted around the enormous conference table. Wanda would probably have known what the chairs were called. Something like a Toscano-carved Rocaille whatsit or other some other bullshit. Wanda managed to make every space she inhabited well-appointed and overly lavish, even when she was low on funds. It was irritating and over the top, if you asked me. And this pretentious little prep school was willing to waste money on antique furniture for a conference room, which probably saw use once a quarter. It pissed me off.

  Of course, at the moment, everything was pissing me off. Nervous energy and the realization of what could have happened to my baby sister made me want to hex the wall into powder. At least there was the entertainment factor of exactly what kind of glamor Taliyah had projected over our grumpy tagalongs. This was allegedly a staff meeting between some of the day class teachers and Valserak, which logically meant only one thing. Rook had become a she for the time being.

  The illusion Taliyah cast over Rook was that of a professor who was vaguely familiar to me. Someone I’d met in passing, no doubt. I wasn’t exactly welcome in the teacher’s lounge, so I’d steered clear of the other staff. I wasn’t here to make friends, I was here to drag my sister out of whatever trouble she’d found herself in. And if the worst was true, I’d arrived too late to prevent even that.

  Damn it!

  “Only if the faerie casting it is a bungler,” Morgana answered Rook’s question, unwrapping one of the candies from the dish in the corner before popping it into her mouth. The illusion around her rippled as the candy passed through.

  Taliyah scowled at her. “I’d like to see you do better. I’m projecting a glamor over three people at the moment. Last year, I had no idea how to cast this on myself, let alone someone else.”

  “What do you want? An award?” Morgana responded.

  “How about you stop eating and sit still like I told you to five minutes ago? You’re forcing me to make constant adjustments,” Tally answered, giving Morgana a copy of the glare the witch was giving her.

  Morgana balled up the candy wrapper, flicking it in Taliyah’s direction. Again, I felt the visceral need to hex the impertinent little witch. She was Astrid’s friend, but that didn’t mean I had to like her. Especially when Astrid clearly had odd tastes, as evidenced by her infatuation with the vampire prick.

  “You try being stuck in a panic room with a vampire for over a week.” Morgana jerked a thumb at the now unhappy female Rook. “It was his hide-y hole and the moron barely made it fit for human habitation. Do you know how many non-perishable foods he had in there? One crate. Mostly dehydrated meals that tasted like cardboard. By the time you arrived, I was down to the granola bars. So, excuse the hell out of me for starving. I think I’d kill for a steak right now.”

  “Your snack attack can wait until after we’ve dealt with Desmond,” Rook muttered.

  He barely moved his mouth, taking Taliyah’s directive seriously. It was sad that I was liking the vampire more than a member of my species at the moment.

  “Easy for you to say, fang face,” Morgana responded. “You’re four centuries old so you don’t have to feed that often. Some of us have working digestive systems.”

  “And mores the pity. Your stomach pissing and moaning was almost enough to wake a vampire from his death sleep.”

  “Quiet,” Taliyah hissed, cocking her head to one side, listening. “I think he’s coming.”

  The bickering pair fell silent and, sure enough, I heard the distant rap of dress shoes on the stone corridor outside. One of the only upsides to the blood that had invaded my body and tainted my magic was the heightened senses that came with it. Insomnia and the irrational vampire-themed paranoia that came along with it I could have done without. It was one of the only points Wanda and I could commiserate on these days, aside from our worry for Astrid and mutual distaste for her vampire fixation.

  The steps were measured and unhurried and only the weight of Isis on my shoulder kept me from storming into the hall and hurling Valserak down the corridor like an undead bowling ball. With any luck, he’d break his spine on a statue. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would make a satisfying crunch and keep him down for a while. Isis, meanwhile, was channeling every ounce of contentment she could muster into me, mentally chiding me for my impulsiveness. It wouldn’t do to give the game away before he was even in the room.

  It only took a minute for the bloody bastard to reach the conference room but it felt like a small eternity. And when the door opened, it took everything I had to remain seated. My pulse slammed thick and hard through my veins, so loud that I was sure both vampires in the room could hear it.

  I’d built the man up in my head for the last hour, wondering what the mastermind of this plot would look like. Hooked nose, greasy hair, hulking and slack-jawed like an ill-tempered troll. Or maybe he was like Janeth: effeminate, too small and dainty to be as dangerous as she actually was. To my disappointment, he was... ordinary. A little austere maybe, but nothing special.

  Desmond Valserak was dressed head to toe in black, much as I was, which only made me hate him more. Shiny dress shoes, midnight black dress slacks, the obligatory crest-emblazoned dress shirt, just like mine. His hair was short, streaked through with gray. He looked older than me—I would have guessed him to be in his early forties, but he could easily be over a thousand. Vampirism could be deceiving. The only thing he wore that I didn’t was a ruby earring. I clung to that difference. I didn’t like feeling like a fleshy mirror to this asshole.

  Valserak’s eyes swept the room, eyeing our little crew suspiciously. Morgana had thankfully stopped popping candies into her mouth, leaving the illusion of Headmistress Aurea intact. It had been the best fit, under the circumstances. Morgana bore a striking resemblance to the older woman, which saved Tally the effort of trying to graft a completely different face onto hers.

  “My, attendance seems to be sparse this evening, Headmistress,” Valserak said dryly. “You could have just called me into your office for a one-on-one consultation if you had a problem with my teaching methods.”

  “Sit,” Morgana ordered in a passable impression of the headmistress’ stiff, disapproving tone. “And close the door behind you.”

  Valserak eyed her narrowly but did as he was told, pushing the door closed with the tips of his fingers. The lock clicked shut, and I launched myself out of my seat, slapping a quickly etched ward to the door. It wasn’t as strong as the wards I could whip up with time and serious effort, but it had been the best I could do under the circumstances and with the items available.

  The sudden movement threw Valserak off guard. I managed to clip his jaw with my fist, sending him spinning. He dodged the next blow by inches, moving halfway across the room before I had time to blink. I flung power at him with a wordless shout and a crimson blood bolt slammed him into a wall so hard, it left a tiny dent in the stone when his skull rebounded. The smell of ozone and old death filled the conference room as I advanced, hell-bent on taking the fucker’s head off.

  Taliyah was on her feet moments after I lunged for the vampire, and the illusions around Rook and Morgana died away. I half-expected for Tally to go for her sidearm, pumping the vampire’s chest full of silver-alloy bullets before going in for a headshot. She surprised me by sweeping her hand in an elegant arc, sending a wall of ice slamming into Valserak, catching him before he could bounce completely off the wall and crumple to the floor. The ice conformed to the shape of his body, holding him immobile. Morgana and Rook fanned out behind us, assuming defensive postures as I stalked forward.

  I gave Taliyah a grateful nod as I passed her, but my eyes remained on the bloodsucker who’d hurt, and perhaps even killed, my sister. I shoved my face as close to his as I dared, careful to keep out of range of his fangs in case he decided to take a snap at me. I had enough bite scars.

  “Where is she?” I demanded, punctuating the question with a right cross. The vampire’s nose crunched, spouting blood.

  “Who?” he asked with a smirk.

  I wasn’t in the mood for games. “What the fuck did you do to Astrid?”

  It took a few seconds for Valserak’s eyes to focus and then another lazy grin stretched his lips. Blood dribbled over his lips and down his chin, giving his grin a macabre twist. “Something you can’t reverse, I’m afraid. She’s mine now.”

  My stomach bottomed out, and I fought the urge to be sick all over his shiny dress shoes. Maybe he was baiting me. Maybe not. Either way, I wanted to grind his bones into powder. A fresh blood bolt sprung to life in my hand and I curled my fingers into bony claws around it.

  “You’re going to tell me where she is,” I said in a low, dangerous whisper. “Or I’m going to wring the names of every one of your bloodsucking co-conspirators from your useless mouth before I shove a very sharp spear up your ass and keep going until it reaches your heart.”

  A sound escaped Valserak. It took me a moment to realize it was a low chuckle. The vampire was laughing.

  “What the hell is so damn funny?” I demanded.

  “You,” he said through fresh peals of laughter. “You’re just like the rest of them. So arrogant, thinking that because you can do magic, you can do any and everything. But... you’re mistakenly assuming something, warlock.”

  “What am I mistakenly assuming?”

  “That there are only vampires supporting my cause.”

  A tingle of dread ran up my spine as his words registered but by the time I puzzled it out, it was too late.

  Morgana’s hex took Taliyah off her feet, flinging her ass over teakettle, upending the table and several chairs before Tally crashed into the opposite wall with a sickening thud. Her head lolled to one side as her eyes slid out of focus, definitely breathing but unconscious. Then a hand wound into my hair, yanking me down so Morgana could press a very sharp knife against my throat. I spied my captor out of the corner of one eye.