I laughed. “Yeah, a little bit. Unlike our covens, though, Blood Rose is co-ed, which is half the reason Astrid wants to go. The only supernatural men in Haven Hollow are either too young, too old, too related, or too married for her taste.”

  “She’s too young to date,” he muttered.

  “Even though she’s now eighteen and would argue with us… on the subject of Astrid and dating, we can agree,” I said, lifting the potion I’d been tinkering with in a mock toast. “I’m going to have to find some sort of secret chastity charm to cast on her clothes before she leaves for university.”

  Maverick shuddered. “I’ll help you with the charm. Or better yet, I’ll just blight the little bastards preemptively.”

  When our eyes met, we shared one protracted moment of solidarity. It felt good. The ghost of a smile played at the edges of his mouth before the spark of humor dimmed. Then the moment was gone, and he was back to staring at his bloodied thumb.

  “So, why do they call it Blood Rose Academy?” he asked. “It sounds a little pretentious if you ask me.”

  I smiled grimly. It seemed hideously appropriate (if unfair) that I’d have to impart this history lesson, given my current state. It might have been easier to summon Hellcat and have him drone on about it, but it felt like a cop-out. Maverick’s disdain for vampires wasn’t going to run me out of my own shop. It wasn’t as if I loved what was happening to my body and worse, my soul.

  “Sometimes I forget you didn’t get a proper education.”

  He scowled. “I’m still a damned good warlock.”

  “You are,” I acknowledged with a nod. “Your natural talent is impressive, really, but it does mean you’re not very familiar with our history.”

  “The last time I read a textbook, I was young enough that I could only reach the third shelf.”

  I nodded. “Mother wouldn’t have kept anything explicit on the lower shelves, anyway.”

  “Pity,” he answered with a laugh and then shook his head. “Everything else I’ve learned has been from outsiders or the meager histories I could gather on my own.”

  I nodded, but rather than feeling sorry for a history neither of us could change, I opted to focus on the future. “What do you know about the Blood Wars?”

  Maverick’s brows drew together, but his scowl softened. Progress. “What most people know. They were the bloodiest conflicts between witch and vampirekind. Possibly the most violent conflict in the entirety of supernatural history, with the exception of the Fae wars. But at least those are in-house and usually about succession and don’t involve the rest of us.”

  “Right.”

  “From what I understand of our own wars, the vampires and witches nearly drove each other to extinction. The Blood Wars were mutually assured destruction if we didn’t come to an armistice. There are still rogues that kill, like...”

  “Janeth,” I finished with a nod and he nodded back. “Some of them didn’t want to stop the slaughter, but most vampires were content to skulk back into whatever coffin they’d crawled from and live in peace. They kept to their clans, we kept to our covens. Any Blood Witches that were found were killed to purge the taint from the line. And so, it’s been that way for the last thousand years.”

  He sighed. “While that makes a lovely bedtime story, let’s talk about the more pressing points.”

  “Which are?” I asked, looking up at him.

  “Blood Rose Academy is co-ed?”

  I laughed. “The dorms are separate.”

  “And what about the witches and the vampires?” he demanded. “Are they separate too?”

  I sighed, because I knew this subject was bound to rear its ugly head—I just didn’t imagine it would come so soon. “Undead and infernal students occupy one wing of the campus while living and angelic students live in the other. Mingling only takes place during classes, and even then, the contact between them is minimal. Astrid would be taking day classes, so the contact between her and any vampires would be minimal.”

  “She’ll find a way to make it more than that,” he argued, hands balling into fists at his sides.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that Astrid won’t see any problem with cozying up to some bloodsucker because you’ve convinced her it’s normal! She doesn’t understand how dangerous it really is.”

  “She understands—” I began. But he wasn’t done.

  “No, she doesn’t!” he shouted. The sound bounced in the empty shop, loud enough to rouse his familiar, Isis. The large barn owl flapped her wings in alarm before settling back on her perch. “Astrid doesn’t understand a damned thing, Wanda. She watches you and your vampire boy toy and thinks they’re all fangless dentists with alcohol problems.”

  “Lorcan hardly has alcohol problems,” I started, even as I wondered if Maverick might actually have a point.

  “Astrid doesn’t understand how vampires actually are—that one wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.”

  “Would you say that to William or Amos?”

  He frowned at me. “I mean, vampires outside of our own family.” He breathed in deeply and shook his head. “Worse yet, she might end up as one of them.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” I snapped.

  His face twisted up in disgust. “I don’t want her going to that school.”

  I just stared at him, mouth agape. An irrational urge to defend Astrid and Lorcan rose in my chest, but I choked back the vitriol. Maverick was angry already, and I didn’t want to sling spells in my shop. With so many conflicting enchantments on my racks, the place was basically a powder keg. One poorly placed hex or blood bolt could result in enough magical feedback to kill us both. He was the only known Blood Warlock in existence so there really was no telling what he could do if I got him going. And I had no idea what the extent of my own powers were anymore either.

  “It’s not your decision to make, Maverick,” I answered in as soft a voice as I could manage. “It’s Astrid’s.”

  Maverick’s lips mashed into a furious line and he held his arm out wordlessly. Isis swooped lazily from her perch, alighting on his outstretched forearm. He didn’t even wince when her talons dug through the fabric and into his skin.

  “You know what?” he said quietly. “I think I will take you up on your offer—I’m ready to go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He stalked toward the door and flung himself out into the street before I could think up a pithy reply.

  Chapter Four

  Was it possible to feel simultaneously exhausted and alert?

  It had to be, right?

  After the argument with Maverick, I felt sick. And not just sick, but weary down to my soul. And yet, when the sun set, I felt immediately more alert. It was as if someone had taken a cloth and sponged away a layer of dust that had settled over my mind. I couldn’t even dismiss it as a fluke. It had been the same thing every night since... well, since the incident.

  No, ‘incident’ was too tame a word for what this was. I’d felt the same sense of dread creep over me in the days after I’d been blooded. The unshakable certainty that I was something different. Something too alien to be accepted by any self-respecting coven. Even my own. At least the blood bond could have been dissolved under the right circumstances.

  This felt permanent.

  Eternal.

  Balls.

  I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t register the additional Porsche parked near Astrid’s as I pulled into my driveway until it was too late. When I glanced up, I found a familiar figure lounging on my front steps, a manila folder spread out on his lap. Astrid was leaning against him, feeding him the answers as he filled out her forms.

  Both of their heads snapped up when my headlights cut across the yard. Astrid’s face lit up, clearly elated to see me. Lorcan was... not. His eyes were like two flecks of malachite set in perfectly sculpted ivory, cold and unreadable. It wasn’t a good sign. An inscrutable Lorcan was an unpredictable Lorcan.

  Double balls.

  I debated backing out and returning to town. I’d slept in my shop before and I could do it again. But... he’d come after me. It seemed like my spell had reached its limit. Anywhere I went now, Lorcan was sure to follow. My heart fluttered weakly in my chest. I wasn’t ready for this confrontation. I still hadn’t decided what to say or do. I needed more time. To do what, I wasn’t sure. All I did know was that I wanted to avoid him for a little while longer.

  But it appeared that subject was no longer up to me.

  So, I sucked in an annoyed breath, lifted my chin, and exited the Escalade with as much dignity as I could muster.

  I could feel Lorcan’s eyes on me the whole time, but didn’t glance in his direction. If I did, I’d either break down or throw myself at him. Doing either in front of Astrid was out of the question.

  “I see you found someone else to help you with the forms,” I said dryly to my cousin. “Are you really that eager to leave us all behind?”

  A little of her eagerness dimmed, and uncertainty took its place. “No, of course not. I’m going to miss all of you while I’m away. It’s just—I don’t want to send the forms back late.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, cutting across her. “Ignore me. That was uncalled for and… I’m sorry.”

  “You’re apologizing?” Astrid asked with a laugh as she glanced at Lorcan in wonder. But his eyes were firmly and resolutely plastered on me. Fun times.

  “Are you feeling alright, Wanda?” Astrid asked.

  I frowned. “I’m just cranky after having an argument with your idiot brother, that’s all.”

  “What about?” she asked.

  “Nothing important,” I said, perhaps a little too quickly.

  Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She was too astute for her own good. Damn it.

  “Will he say the same thing if I ask him?”

  I threw my hands up. “Goddess only knows. He’s been petulant all day. Track him down if you must, but I want to go inside and ply the problem with booze. Maybe everything will make sense when I’m less sober.”

  “Will it?” Lorcan asked. “Because need I remind you… you’ve got one other problem to deal with and his name is Lorcan Rowe.”

  “Bollocks,” I answered, to quote Lorcan.

  The silken hush of his voice was somehow more chilling to me than his anger could have been. I’d expected him to rage, to scream at me. I’d wanted to do the same in the days following Betanya’s revelation. Because it wasn’t fair. I’d just swapped one form of bondage for another.

  Marriage.

  Ugh.

  The word made an instinctive witchy part of me queasy. The soft, almost human part of me was conflicted. If (and it was a big if) Lorcan and I ever married in the human sense of the word, I wanted it to be my choice, not the result of a sex-fueled accident. And, yet, he had the gall to act like I’d done something wrong.

  Me!

  Astrid’s gaze darted between us, anxious and bemused. She knew she was missing something, but not what. I hadn’t had the courage to break the news to her, especially after the disastrous conversation with her brother.

  “I... um... think I’m going to head to the coven house,” she said. “Maverick can help me with the rest of the paperwork.”

  I bit back a sigh. “Your brother won’t help you with it.”

  “What? Why?”

  I nodded and breathed out an irritated and pent-up breath. I didn’t want to be bothered with either one of them at the moment—the only thing I did want to be bothered with was Jack Daniels but, sadly, they were both standing in the way of the door that led to Jack.

  “That was the reason your imbecile brother and I just had an argument. He doesn’t want you going to Blood Rose.”

  Astrid’s eyes widened. “Why?”

  My eyes sought Lorcan’s without my conscious permission. He stared back, expressionless. I wanted to shake him until a genuine emotion fell out. I was well-versed in anger. I’d been steeped in scorn from the moment I’d left Mother’s womb. I could handle conflict. So why did this blank façade of his bother me so much?

  “Because one of the founding families is a long and powerful vampire bloodline. Not to mention the fact that a fourth of the student body is undead, which gives your brother... cause for pause.”

  Astrid crossed her arms over her chest. She was getting curvier and the baby fat in her face was lessening by the day. Maverick might have the right idea to blight the boys of Blood Rose before Astrid ever stepped foot on the campus. I had a feeling that pretty soon, Astrid would have to beat the men off with a broomstick.

  “Not all vampires are bad,” she said, jaw flexing stubbornly as she motioned to Lorcan.

  “No, they aren’t,” I agreed.

  “They’re just like the rest of us. Every species has its share of assholes,” Astrid continued. I couldn’t help but notice Lorcan was unusually quiet.

  “The difference is that many of those vampires remember or even participated in the Blood Wars,” I managed, irritated by the fact that we were having this conversation outside when all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch with Jack and revisit Bridgerton, Season Two.

  “What does that matter?” Astrid demanded.

  “It matters because tensions run high between vampires and witches at the best of times. Hazing wouldn’t be uncommon and considering what you went through at the Assembly... Well, your brother is concerned it could bring up some traumatic memories for you.”

  “Well then, I will just pay him a visit and tell him not to worry about it.”

  I frowned and then breathed in deeply, trying to subdue my need to bowl past them both and find refuge on the living room couch. “Maverick probably needs space at the moment,” I managed as something else occurred to me. “Olga worked at Blood Rose, so she’s probably the one to talk to.”

  The entire thing was a bald-faced lie, aside from the bit about Olga. But it was more palatable than the alternative. I wasn’t ready to spill the frogspawn where my relationship with Lorcan was concerned. I also didn’t want to send Astrid to her furious older brother. She had a right to go to Blood Rose if she so chose, and didn’t deserve to be bullied out of it by her ill-tempered brother.

  Astrid paled, one hand flying up to cup her throat. She’d been choked unconscious by Janeth’s lackeys during our weekend at the Assembly. Witches healed faster than humans, so the mottled blue-black bruising had disappeared by the end of that first week. The nightmares, however, were harder to treat.

  She’d insisted on staying with me at the duplex after the attack even though questions had lingered as to whether she should return to Crescent Circle, since Tabitha was now in charge. But Astrid hadn’t wanted to leave my side. Sometimes I’d wake to find her in my bed, clutching me like an oversized teddy bear. I never had the heart to send her back to her room. The sleep potions Poppy brewed for her worked most of the time, but there were still difficult nights. I wasn’t sure she’d ever feel completely safe again.

  “Maverick really said all that?” she asked, voice cracking on the last word. “He’s worried about me?”

  “He is,” I said, closing the distance so I could take her hand. “But I’ll admit I’m reading between the lines a little. There were a lot more ‘bloodsucking bastards’ and ‘hex them before they get any ideas’ involved in the conversation.”

  Astrid smiled faintly. “He’s a big softie, isn’t he?”

  “He’s something,” I muttered. “But I agree you should go and spend some time at the coven, if nothing else than to see if Betanya and Olga need help with anything. I’m sorry for giving you the boot.”

  She looked over at Lorcan and I was fairly sure she completely understood what I was getting at. “It’s okay.”

  She then gathered her things and beat a hasty retreat, tossing a hearty ‘see you, Uncle Lorcan’ over her shoulder before ducking into her Porsche.

  And on that subject, I still wasn’t happy with the fact that Astrid was driving such a ridiculous car but it was what it was. Lorcan had purchased it for her and seeing how excited she was about it, I hadn’t had the heart to force him to return it. Yes, I was definitely going soft.

  As soon as Astrid’s car disappeared, Lorcan looped his arm around my waist, capturing me before I could follow Astrid’s example. His hold was firm, uncompromising. He definitely wanted to talk and I could feel as much in the determination of his hold. What I didn’t expect, however, was his cool breath on my throat or the husky timbre of his voice when he whispered, “We need to talk, sweetling.”

  He backed us toward the house, still keeping a careful grip on me, and I let him. I didn’t fight him when he guided me inside, one hand still on my waist. Even the light play of his fingers over my bare skin felt indescribably erotic. And goddess help me, I wanted to feel the sweet ache of his bite.

  I’d been so drugged on power the last time we’d been together that I hadn’t really felt it—the moment when his fangs had sunk into me. And getting bitten by a vampire? Well, it went against everything I stood for as a witch. The Wanda that had arrived in Haven Hollow had sworn she’d never let this man sink fangs into her ever again. So, how had it come to this? How had I taken Lorcan to my bed, fallen in love with him, and gotten... ugh... married?

  “We do need to talk,” I acknowledged, twisting in his arms as my heart rode into my throat and my body acted of its own accord. “But not this instant.”

  Then I pushed up on tiptoe, winding my fingers into his long, golden hair, and tugged him down for a soul-searing kiss.

  Chapter Five

  My back hit the floor so hard, it drove the air from my lungs.

  Not that there’d been much air left, with the way Lorcan was kissing me. I’d only had time to draw in a breath before he’d pulled my already partially unbuttoned blouse over my head. I wasn’t sure when he’d undone the rest of the buttons. Spell, I wasn’t sure how I’d ended up flat on my back, his weight pinning me to the ebony floors. I just knew that I wanted... no needed to have him inside me pronto.