“Because there were women propositioning him left and right and he turned them all down—flatly. And they were pretty women. Scantily clad women.”

  “Maybe because he only has eyes for you or am I the only one of us strapped with that curse?”

  I swallowed and forced the words out, though it cost me to do it. “I’m not looking at anyone either, Lorcan. Especially not William. He’s an ally, maybe even a friend, but he’s not… he’s not… you.”

  His expression softened, and some of the tension in his shoulders relaxed.

  “I was going to wake you earlier, but you looked too peaceful,” he offered. “The others are waiting on us. Astrid seems excited about the tour. She especially wants to visit the familiars.”

  Probably in hopes she’d be able to select one early. It wouldn’t be long, but she still had to reach magical maturity before she could form a compact with a familiar.

  “Are you going to be able to come with us?” I asked, glancing at the door. “I mean, it is morning.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it, but Sub Rosa Sanctuary is in an enclosed shopping mall and isn’t lit by traditional light. It’ll throw off my circadian rhythm and I’ll feel sluggish, but I should be able to walk with you.” He held out a hand, palm up. “That is, if you don’t mind being seen in public, holding hands with a vampire.”

  Goddess, if Mother, Aunt Tabitha, or my sisters spotted us holding hands, it would get ugly fast. But after all they’d done, I didn’t care. They’d ousted me, after all, and forced me into close proximity with gypsies and vampires and the like. And, truly, it had turned out to be the best thing to have ever happened to me.

  “I would very happily hold your hand in front of anyone,” I said, sliding my hand into his.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I didn’t know there was such a thing as Blood Java,” I said, casting a look at the paper cup clutched in William’s hand.

  “I am certain I have informed you on that exact subject, sweetling,” Lorcan said as he busied himself with Hellcat’s carrier. The rabid beast had tried to sneak away from us, probably to reach Mother and report what we were up to.

  “Yes, there is such a thing,” William answered, as he gave me a grin. Lorcan’s scowl was pronounced.

  “Yeah, and I kind of wish I still didn’t know about it,” Astrid said, pulling a face. “I mean, how exactly do you keep that fresh? It’s got to clot eventually, right?”

  “Clot,” I repeated, turning up my nose. “What an awful word.”

  As soon as I finished my statement, Poppy, Libby and Darla came walking down the hallway, ready to join our group for our tour of the Sanctuary. I wasn’t surprised to see Darla immediately sizing up William and Amos, turning her head from one to the other, as if she couldn’t decide who she liked better. Yes, it was a risk to be seen with both of them, but at this point, I didn’t really care.

  William laughed, and the sound made Astrid’s cheeks flush pink. I was definitely going to have to watch her this weekend. I remembered being her age, throbbing with hormones and a glut of power, and having no idea what to do with either. It meant she was susceptible to every man with an ounce of good looks or charm. And William and Amos had both. They also weren’t the only creatures here who looked to be around Astrid’s age, but they were objectively the most handsome we’d met so far.

  And yet, I couldn’t seem to find a spark of interest in either. Maybe that was because they were both turned young, and I preferred more mature men? Or maybe it was the bond I had with Lorcan? Or maybe this entire plot they had going made me too nervous to appreciate anything else?

  “You’d think so, but Mrs. Velardi has made it a non-issue,” William explained, and for a second, I forgot the question he was answering. “Blood used to be sourced fresh in bags or given directly by donors, but when Scarlett got involved, the Plasma Palace was able to store things longer.”

  “How does that work?” Astrid asked.

  “Enchantments laid on the donated blood bags mean they’re frozen in time, exactly as they are, until the blood is actually placed in a cup and served. It’s also enchanted to give someone a monster stomachache if they steal it, so blood theft is almost non-existent.”

  Meanwhile, Darla was doing her best to rub up against him from where she stood behind him. Every time he turned around to check what she was doing, she gave him a flutter of her eyelashes, a wide grin and this weird little wave.

  “Don’t mind Darla,” I muttered.

  Another hair-raising yowl came from Hellcat’s carrier. His paw appeared between the metal grid, batting ineffectually at the lock.

  “Let me out of this calaboose, you ghastly flea-ridden shrew!”

  “Is he talking to,” William started, but I waved away his concerned expression with a sour smile.

  “Not to worry—he’s talking to me. He’s always talking to me,” I responded.

  “You pestilent, malodorous ogre, you—”

  “Trout?” I guessed. “Or virago, or useless, barren, jackanape?” I sighed as I shook my head. “Come on, Hellcat, you’ve become so predictable. Really, I can’t stand the idea of another one-hundred-forty-one years with the same old same old.” Then I tapped my fingernails against my mouth and pretended inspiration. “Maybe I should buy a thesaurus and use it to line your litter box.”

  “The kitty is quite unfriendly,” Libby said to William with a conspiratorial nod. I’d actually forgotten she was even with us.

  I knew Hellcat disliked the mention of his litter box because he thought it quite demeaning for a creature of his status to have such a silly sounding place to deposit his ‘twinkies’ as he called them.

  “Youz can say that agin,” Charlie Ray said, poorly disguising a laugh by turning it into a hacking cough at the last minute. It fooled no one. Betanya reached up with a smile and fondly scratched him behind the ears. I had to admit the stinky southerner was beginning to grow on me, just a little. Anyone who was willing to talk back to Hellcat usually earned points in my book.

  “You know how I feel about you mentioning that dreaded box,” Hellcat whispered to me.

  “Then stop taunting me and perhaps I’ll find it within myself to keep conversations regarding your litter box to a minimum!”

  “It is not my fault you cannot understand the artistic merit of repetition used to make a point,” Hellcat huffed.

  “And what point might that be?” I asked, flicking a finger at his carrier. “Because from where I’m sitting, you deserve to be in there.”

  The static shock spell with which Astrid had warded the carrier was a harmless bit of payback. It surprised the victim more than hurt them and left them with a nasty case of bedhead for a few hours. For someone as image conscious as Hellcat, it was like dumping chili on a pristine dress shirt. He’d stay in the carrier, if only to save himself embarrassment in front of the other familiars.

  “And why in the name of the Goddess do I deserve to be imprisoned?” he hissed. “This is unjust!”

  “Do you think I’m not aware that you were sneaking off to meet Mother? I know you’ve been spying for her this entire time. Maybe you went to beg to return to her. Again.”

  “I did not seek out Celestine.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really. I went to talk sense into Scarlett, but couldn’t make it past her door. And I shall have you know… her noxious little rodent bit me.”

  I raised an eyebrow, then realized he couldn’t see it. Why on earth would my bad-tempered familiar try to have a conversation with Scarlett Velardi? Was he that set on us returning home? Did he think losing a battle with Mother would sink his already dismal social status? Or, strange as it seemed, was he actually trying to... help me?

  He’d been anxious about this trip from the start, and more so since he’d met our vampire guards. And I was more than sure he knew the secret Mother was hiding. Maybe I’d trick the answer out of him after the assembly tonight.

  “Well, getting bit serves you right,” I said after a moment. “You kept insulting Liam to his face, and you were probably going to do the same to his mistress.”

  We’d reached the ground floor, and had to press together to keep from losing each other in the crowd. A pair of gossiping centaur women trotted past, narrowly avoiding a collision with Darla, who was still staring at the décor in starry-eyed wonder (when she wasn’t staring at William and Amos, that is). She spun once in a circle, turning her face up so she could catch a little of the faerie dust on her upturned lashes. They glimmered gold, and for a second, I could almost see the Hollywood starlet she might have been if fate hadn’t cruelly intervened. Even with the accelerated aging she’d experienced so she now appeared around forty or so, she was still beautiful. I could tell one of the vampires, a short Italian named Vicente, thought so too.

  “This place is just the cat’s pajamas,” she sighed as she looked around and seemed to forget her assault of William. “Any chance we could move here, Wanda? I’m sure someone could use a dancer. Or an actress. I’m multi-talented, you know.”

  She batted her eyes at the besotted Vicente, who had apparently fed enough to blush. That alone made me think he’d been turned within the last decade. He seemed less sure of himself than the others. Less cultured, less... vampy.

  “Could you step off?” Maverick snapped when another of the vampires, Erasmus if I was remembering right, got jostled by the crowd and almost took Maverick down with him. Maverick caught himself on one of the marble pillars and gave the vampire a shove.

  “We have orders to stay close,” Erasmus said, brushing himself off. He was the tallest of the vampires, almost on par with Maverick. From the accent and his looks, I’d have said he was Greek.

  “There’s close, and then there’s practically sitting on me!”

  Erasmus, and the remaining vampire, Wolfram, glowered at Maverick in mute frustration. I could almost sense Mother’s binding drawing tight, cutting off whatever words they wanted to say in response. William had been adamant that Maverick would be in danger. Did that mean Mother’s secret had something to do with Maverick? Hmm, probably so.

  I was pulled out of my thoughts by a squeal of delight. Astrid broke away from our little pack and sprinted toward the open doors of Familiar Faces. I fought the urge to sigh. At least the tour wasn’t due to start for another couple of minutes. Astrid could get her fill of fluffy familiars before the real fun began.

  “Give me Hellcat,” I said, tugging Lorcan to a stop while the others continued forward.

  His lips shifted into a mocking smile. “Are you thinking of branding the little twit defective and asking for a refund? It would be something of a relief for all of us.”

  “I wish,” I said, then paused.

  Saying ‘I wish’ was probably tempting fate in these parts. As far as I knew, there was only one Fae capable of granting major wishes in the Hollow, and she was a no-nonsense police officer who wanted no part of her heritage. At the Sub Rosa Sanctuary, where faerie dust literally lined the walkways, setting off little explosions of color and sound with each step, it was probably best to keep wishes to oneself, lest you get tricked into a pact with the Fae you’d later learn you really didn’t want.

  Lorcan lifted his brow, a silent inquiry. I shook my head and waved him on.

  “I’ll catch up,” I said.

  Lorcan looked like he wanted to argue with me, but in the end, he did what I asked, handing over the carrier and the thrashing cat to me with a sigh.

  “Don’t take too long,” he said, and shot a dirty look over my shoulder at William. “I shall be back later to check on you, dearest.”

  William waited until Lorcan had disappeared to let out a breezy laugh. I was glad he hadn’t laughed in Lorcan’s face. A fistfight would probably have ensued, and we didn’t need yet another reason to be looked down on. Just our existence would be enough for most witches.

  “He really doesn’t like me, does he?”

  “Afraid not,” I said, turning on one heel to walk the other way. I needed a private place to have this conversation. “Don’t take it personally, though. Lorcan’s not really the jealous sort.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  I nodded to say I understood why he’d assume otherwise. Then I sighed. “I believe his emotions are on high because of the bond. It makes things difficult for him.”

  “Is the bond responsible for making him a prick, or is that his natural disposition?”

  “I guess that depends on whether you like the loveable rogue type, or if you find it obnoxious.”

  “Definitely obnoxious.”

  “Well, then, you’re going to hate him,” I said, swinging Hellcat’s carrier, ignoring his protests.

  I scanned the foyer and found a handy alcove near a small but detailed statue of Cupid. He’d actually founded an entire line of meddlesome love-peddlers known as Cupid’s Couriers. Most of us avoided them like the plague. I mean, who wanted to have their love lives dictated to them? If I’d been pricked by one of their blasted arrows, I’d have caught the first flight to the Bahamas to wait things out. While potent at the start, their spells only had a shelf life of about six months. It was why so many couples broke things off after going hot and heavy at the start. The spark simply wasn’t there after the spell wore off. Granted, some people fell in love after the initial hit, but it felt too much like coercion for my taste.

  “I think I’d have hated him regardless,” William muttered. “Given what you are to me.”

  I’d been ready to sit on the long pink marble bench, but at that comment, I stuttered to a stop, my guts curling into an anxious knot. What the spell was that supposed to mean?

  What I was to him? We’d only met yesterday. We weren’t anything to each other. He hadn’t even glanced at my cleavage or my legs once, and both were being shown to great advantage by the low-cut mini-dress. Maybe I’d read his signals wrong? Maybe Lorcan was right in thinking William had… interest in me?

  “I’m taken,” I said, laying Hellcat on the bench so I could give the vampire my full attention.

  “I know,” William replied, jaw clenching in frustration. He looked like he was chewing on his words, but nothing came out. Eventually, he said, “I know you’re dating the Irish bastard. That’s not what I’m trying to get at. You’re...” He lapsed into silence again, continuing to chew on his words. The look of mute fury on his face finally drove it home, and I sighed.

  “You can’t spill the frogspawn because you’re bound, right?”

  “Right,” he ground out, and even that one word sounded painful. “I want to tell you, Wanda, but this isn’t something I can spoon feed to you. You have to figure it out on your own… owing to the binding.”

  “Well, that’s the plan,” I answered, and knelt so I was at eye-level with the carrier. I had to smooth my hands over the bottommost part of the dress to keep it from riding up and flashing a pair of green lace panties for the world to see. If all went well, only Lorcan would see them. And take them off. Preferably with his teeth. That is if he wasn’t still acting like a virgin on prom night.

  “Alright, fuzzball,” I said, jabbing a finger in his direction. Not too close to the bars though, lest I lose a fingernail. “You’ve been Mother’s lickspittle for years, so I know you have some idea of what’s going on here. Spill it, or your Fancy Feast gets it.”

  He glared balefully back at me, and bared his tiny-needle like teeth. “I would have thought you’d have learned by now, my interminable irritation, that you cannot simply demand answers.”

  “What, I’m supposed to bribe you? Because if you think I’m going to—”

  “I cannot tell you,” he said.

  “Won’t, you mean.”

  “No, can’t. Your mother bound all who knew the truth, including me. I can’t divulge the full story until you’ve uncovered enough to break the requirements of your mother’s spell. Until then, you’re going to have to throw darts at the wall blindly and hope you uncover the secret. Which, given your general level of intelligence, means there’s next to no chance you’ll actually pull it off.”

  “If you are lying to me,” I started, glaring at him, but the cat glared right back at me.

  “I will repeat myself once more. Go home. Cross your mother and you will die.”

  I rocked back on my heels, stunned by Hellcat’s impassioned speech. It hadn’t been long, but it had been illuminating. Mother’s secret was so dark, so potentially blasphemous, that she’d even bound her number one toady to keep things under wraps. A secret she’d kidnap, maim, and kill to protect.

  But why?

  “You’re scared,” I whispered as I continued staring at Hellcat.

  Hellcat’s tail twitched anxiously. “You would be too, if you had any sense. Please, Wandellmellia. Leave while you still have the chance.”

  Goosebumps crawled across my skin. Hellcat had used my real name without sneering. He was trying to save me in his own, incredibly condescending way. And that was something that gave me cause for pause.

  “I’ll go home when I’ve uncovered this mystery and when I know what she’s hiding,” I said, and reached for the latch of his cage.

  “No,” he said. There was an odd, choked quality to his voice. I wondered if he’d hacked up another hairball. But then it struck me that he really was frightened—I could see it in his shaking paws.

  “If you swear on Mother’s name that you’ll be loyal to our coven, I will protect you—no matter what Mother does.”

  What he said next was enough to make me almost choke in surprise.

  “No, I’ll swear by your name.”

  “And why would you do that?” I asked with suspicion.

  “Because… what she’s done... it’s wrong.” He paused for a moment and then nodded as if he were convincing himself of the truth in his own words. “It needs to stop. However irksome I find your presence, you would never do something the likes of which she’s done.”

  I stared at him in shock.

  He was swearing loyalty to me?

  After every strident speech or ode to Celestine he’d put me through, he was going to commit to me? It didn’t make any sense unless he was right and whatever secret he’d been keeping all these years really was that bad.