Amos caught the look on my face and offered me a half-smile. I let him savor the moment. It wasn’t often vampires got to see surprised witches.

  “There are four circles like this one scattered around the Sanctuary and two are specifically designed to repel your mother’s energy,” he explained. “So, Celestine couldn’t use these if she tried.”

  I shook my head, bewildered. “I know Mother is a callous bitch, but what did she do to Scarlett that earned this kind of preparation? Even I haven’t gone to these lengths, and she’s screwed me over big time.”

  “You’ll understand if you just think it through,” William insisted. Ah, this was just another example of the bindings that disallowed them from answering any of my questions. Goddess, this was getting old.

  “Ugh,” I started.

  “Just think, Wanda. You’ve almost got it.”

  Tabitha stepped inside the circle and knelt. Amos passed her a duffel bag. Something clinked in the interior.

  “We don’t have time to play twenty-one questions,” William responded. “The humans will be near the clan’s hideout soon, and then Maverick and Astrid will be subject to the vampires.”

  Tabitha began rifling through the pack, pulling out a series of beeswax candles, an eyedropper, and an athame. When working with ritual magic that required blood, any blade would do in a pinch. I usually used needles or pins because I always had them on hand. Unless you were performing some seriously dark magic, you only needed a few drops of blood. An athame was often overkill. But for now, overkill was fine with me.

  “Hurry up with the Divining Oil,” she muttered. “No time. We have no time.”

  I felt the same way. Every second that passed brought Astrid and Maverick closer to death. It startled us both when William stepped into the circle and knelt across from Tabitha.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, frowning over at him.

  “Helping,” he answered. “My blood should narrow the scope of your tracking spell. Possibly even more so than your own blood. If I’m right, my sire is the one who plans to turn your children. My tie to her will give you a strong link. You find her, and you’ll find them.”

  “Janeth,” Tabitha whispered. A shudder rocked her entire frame. “Oh, goddess. No, no, no...”

  “Who’s Janeth?” I asked, feeling like I was missing something important.

  “She’s a… a witch killer,” William said. Well, snarled might have been more accurate.

  “Wow, well, she sounds delightful,” I frowned.

  William nodded. “She’s a thrill seeker who refuses to hunt humans. Too easy, she says. Witches are her favorite. She’s something of a sadist, and will usually make witches her heirs after feeding on them over the course of a few weeks. She knows most witches would rather die than turn, so she taunts them with the possibility.”

  “And that’s your sire?”

  He nodded again. “Right.”

  I cursed.

  “My sentiments exactly,” Amos said. “If you do find her, do us a favor and end her.”

  I glanced at him. Bitterness twisted his face into something that was almost ugly.

  “She turned you too.”

  “Yes,” he said, hands balling into fists again. “She turned all of us. Wolfram, Vicente, Erasmus, William, and me. Celestine turned us over to her.”

  I was surprised he could tell me that much. “Why?” I asked.

  “You still haven’t guessed?” William asked, and sounded cross. I couldn’t blame him. I was getting frustrated with myself, too. I felt like the answer was right in front of me, and I just needed to squint to see the big picture, but I was trying to squint with one eye fully closed and the other one blurry. The truth of the matter just wouldn’t piece itself out.

  “Don’t snap at her,” Amos said, unloading the rest of the duffel bag. He helped Tabitha arrange what was left with calm, methodical motions. It looked practiced, like he’d done this a million times.

  “How do you and William know all this?” I asked. “You can’t have learned this much about magic just by watching witches. Lorcan’s only grasped the basics, and we’ve been trying every trick in the spellbook to undo what he did to me.”

  “Amos and I were trained by witches,” William said, glancing up at me. Again, there was that strange intensity. I could have sworn I’d seen an identical look in another pair of eyes, but I couldn’t place when or who those eyes belonged to. Damn it, why couldn’t I think?

  “You can’t have been trained by witches,” I argued, shaking my head. Something in this story made no sense. “You’d have to have been in a coven, which is impossible. You’re men. The only men who have magic are—”

  I sucked in a sharp breath, and felt my eyes go wide as the last puzzle piece slotted into place.

  Their familiarity with coven politics and magic overall. Their grudge against Mother. Hellcat and Tabitha’s reactions to them. The witch killer. The strange feeling of Deja Vu I felt every time I stared into those stormy gray eyes. They were familiar because I’d seen the shape and distinctive shade before, albeit in other faces. Tabitha’s. Maverick’s. Astrid’s.

  My mouth was hanging open, and I couldn’t seem to find my voice.

  It was impossible.

  Surely Mother couldn’t have done it?

  There was setting vampires on strangers, but this... I was stunned. A little numb. It couldn’t be true, could it? I knew Mother was cruel, but this was just evil.

  I didn’t turn to look as Olga and Betanya crowded at my back. I only looked up when a cool hand slid into mine. Lorcan was searching my face, concern tightening lines around his eyes. I’d told him to stay with Poppy. Maybe I should have been angry he’d gone against my wishes, but I couldn’t summon the proper outrage. I was still so stunned—still trying to piece everything together.

  I was grateful he was here to steady me after this life-shaking revelation.

  William’s smile was sharp-toothed and cynical. “See Amos? I told you she’d figure it out.”

  “Figure what out?” Lorcan asked. “What happened while I was gone?”

  I looked up at him. “I figured out why William’s clan allied with Scarlett. I know what Mother has been doing and why. I know what William and Amos are. Or were.” I swallowed painfully. My mouth was dry. My eyes stung. How could she have done this?

  “Tell us what you’ve figured out,” William said, and there was a glow in his eyes that said he hoped I’d learned the truth—that I’d figured it out properly because once I spilled that truth, the binding spell would be broken.

  “Mother sicced Janeth on you because you were a threat,” I started, my voice sounding hollow even to me. “You were… men born with too much power. It’s why you had to die. Magic doesn’t survive the change.”

  Betanya and Olga gasped, catching on a second later. Tabitha hung her head, and I thought I heard her sniffle. I could almost feel the binding fraying and then beginning to unravel like cheap fabric.

  This was the truth Mother had been trying to hide for centuries.

  The truth Olga had seen snippets of and had to be imprisoned for.

  Celestine hadn’t just been hiring vampires to kill people. She’d hired them to kill our people.

  I turned to face Tabitha. “It’s why Aunt Tabitha had to send Maverick away the second he showed potential. If he was around to show off his true strength, Mother would have done the same to him. And Astrid was getting too close to the secret. She’d have been turned too.”

  “Yes.” Tabitha’s words came out as a broken whisper. “That’s why.”

  And, yet, all this time, I’d thought Tabitha was just as cold and heartless as Mother. I’d misjudged her. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  She just looked at me and bowed her head as if to say she accepted my apology.

  “I don’t understand,” Lorcan said slowly.

  I turned to William.

  He was still smiling, and there was genuine warmth in those eyes now.

  “Do you want to tell him, or should I?” he asked.

  I shuddered, glad I hadn’t felt a spark with William or with Amos. How awful would that have been now that I knew what I did?

  “Wanda?” Lorcan asked, frowning at me.

  I nodded. “They’re not William and Amos Dwimmer.” I took a deep breath as I looked at both of them and thought about how much they’d changed, who they’d become and the last time I’d ever seen them. “They’re William and Amos Depraysie. And I’m willing to bet Vicente is Scarlett’s son. That’s why Scarlett hates Mother—because Celestine has been handing any and all warlocks over to the vampires before they can truly come into their power.”

  William’s smile grew even more toothy, if that was possible.

  The sight of his fangs made me wince. They were just wrong, knowing that he never should have had them. He’d been murdered, his birthright stolen.

  “Depraysie?” Lorcan repeated. “But that would mean—”

  “William and Amos are my older brothers,” I finished as I looked up at Lorcan with a wistful smile.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You mean…” Lorcan started.

  “No time!” Tabitha all but screamed. “There will be time for stories later. We have to find my children now.”

  I jumped, and then immediately flushed with guilt. I’d been too horrified by the revelation to be wholly focused on just what we’d been about to do. Shame made my stomach roll. How could I have forgotten Astrid was in danger for even a moment?

  I sidestepped to let Olga and Betanya past me. The latter handed a vial to Tabitha before she knelt just outside the circle. Olga and I followed her lead, pressing our hands flat against the silver, allowing magic to trickle in without overwhelming the careful latticework Tabitha was constructing.

  Tabitha anointed the candle, lit the wick, and then began to work. It should have been funny to watch her cast—she always looked like she was wrestling a large dog. But at this moment, I couldn’t summon even a smile. I just channeled my power into hers, praying to the goddess that we’d locate Astrid and Maverick in time.

  William pricked his finger with the athame, then let his blood drip onto the candle. The red stood out starkly against the muted yellow, and I couldn’t help but shudder. It was a stark reminder of just what we stood to lose. Vampire blood, even just a few swallows, would doom my cousins. They’d be blooded, attached by the Kiss to whoever turned them. And according to William, Janeth was the last vampire on earth you’d want as a quasi-sire. There was a reason Amos and William had started their own clan.

  The images came slowly at first.

  Small snippets of color and sensation.

  Maverick and Astrid huddled and bound on a concrete floor. A tower of wooden pallets. We were seeing them at eye-level, seemingly from within someone else’s body, which meant William had been right. Janeth had my cousin and we were witnessing the scene from her perspective, watching her move as if we were attached at the elbow.

  Dragon balls!

  The picture grew sharper until I could make out the vampire in question. She looked too small to be so deadly. If she cleared five feet, I’d eat the candle, lit wick and all. The dress she wore was at least a century out of date, all ruffles and bows. The material was a soft violet that complimented the white-blonde of her hair. She looked young, eighteen or nineteen at most. If she hadn’t been a vampire, I wouldn’t have batted an eye if Astrid dragged her home as a study buddy.

  Janeth knelt carefully in front of them, lifting her skirts to keep the hem from brushing the floor.

  “Where are they?” I asked.

  William’s eyes were focused in the middle distance, squinting as though he was trying to make out small print without spectacles.

  “I’m not sure. Janeth alternates locations. There are four we know of, and two of them are warehouses.”

  “And how far apart are these warehouses from one another?” I asked.

  “Twenty minutes or so—thus, we’ll need to be precise. We can’t help you in the daylight, and if you split up, it leaves two of you to each warehouse. And if that’s the case, they’ll overwhelm you and then you’ll just find yourselves on the menu too. Go in together or not at all.”

  It made sense, but it was still hard to watch as Janeth loomed over Astrid and Maverick, purple bruises showed starkly against the pale column of Astrid’s throat. Someone had choked her on the drive over.

  Maverick’s face was worse. His nose had been snapped to one side, blood running in twin lines over his mouth and chin. His right eye was swollen shut, and someone had hacked his braid off, tossing it aside like garbage. He looked almost naked without it.

  “My poor children,” Tabitha whispered, her voice coming out pained, raw and naked as she witnessed the same thing I did.

  “We’ll get them back,” I responded and tightened my hold on her hand.

  Both Astrid’s and Maverick’s hands had been bound painfully behind their backs, straining the muscles taut. Maverick scooted closer to Astrid, stretching out as far as he could, trying to shield her from view. It really struck me then—I’d always known Maverick gave a damn where Astrid was concerned, but that hadn’t stopped him from being awful to her when it suited him. Now I thought I understood. His less than kind actions towards her had come from a place of jealousy and anger, not malice.

  When push came to shove, I believed Maverick would die before he let anyone hurt Astrid. He’d even put himself in the path of a sadistic vampire intent on turning them both. The move made Janeth laugh, a high, girlish sound.

  “Ooh, the big strong warlock wants to protect his little sister? How sweet.” She reached down and tweaked his nose, earning herself a groan of hurt. His pain made her laugh again. “I don’t think you’re going to have an easy time casting with broken fingers and a bruised face. It might be entertaining enough to watch, though… I’d let you try before breaking your legs.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Astrid whimpered. “We haven’t done anything to you.”

  “You exist,” Janeth barked in response, her voice steely and empty of any and all emotion. “It’s reason enough for some people to want you dead,” she continued, but her gaze was on Maverick. “And some people are willing to pay handsomely for it.”

  “Then we’re to be ransomed?” Maverick asked, a twinge of hope in his tone.

  “Ransomed, yes, but I’m still going to kill you… but not in the exact meaning of the word.”

  “What are you talking about?” Maverick demanded.

  Even though we were in the point of view of Janeth, I could see her shoulders shrug. “You won’t stay dead. It will be much more gratifying to see you wake and realize exactly what I’ve taken from you than to simply kill you.”

  It took a second, but Maverick puzzled it out first. And when he did, he began to thrash, screaming curses, both literal and metaphorical, at the vampire. Without his familiar and ability to move the power forward, his magic was next to useless.

  Astrid began to cry, and mumbled something like ‘not like this’.

  “Come on, come on, come on,” William muttered, drumming his fingers nervously on the marble. “Just look around, Janeth. Show us where the spell you are.”

  But she didn’t look up.

  She moved closer to the wriggling witch and warlock, laughing softly to herself. She began to hum, ‘eenie meenie miney mo’ under her breath, shifting her pale, delicate finger from Astrid’s face to Maverick’s, then back again.

  But it was ultimately Maverick who made the choice for her.

  She wandered a little too close and apparently, he’d managed to work free of the rope at his ankles. Janeth saw the booted foot a split second before it hit the side of her face. The kick missed her nose by a hair, but still knocked her out of her careful crouch and onto her ass. Her head made a satisfying ‘thwack’ when it hit the concrete.

  “Yes!” William hissed. “Kick her again, get your sister up, and run for the daylight.”

  If Janeth was younger, weaker, or a little less experienced, the plan might have worked. Maverick was on his knees the next instant, trying to help Astrid when the vampire rose from the ground. He wasn’t fast enough to stop her when she seized him by his shirt front and hauled him closer. At this distance, I could see the wide gray of his eyes, and the naked terror in them. I heard his scream when she kicked savagely at his knee, dislocating the joint and dropping him to the ground before her.

  “I think I’ll start with you,” she purred. “It’s been almost half a century since I’ve had a warlock.”

  For a split second, I could see the wall behind Maverick, and read the peeling red letters. Redbird Meat Packing Co.

  “Got it,” William said with a clipped smile at me. “Guy has a police car waiting outside.”

  “He has the police working for him?” Betanya asked.

  William nodded but kept his eyes on me. “Now go!”

  We scrambled out of the circle, but not quickly enough to miss one last, haunting sound and visual: Maverick’s scream when Janeth sank her teeth into his throat.

  Tabitha’s cry was both piercing and heart-breaking.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The police car cut through Newark traffic like a hot knife through butter.

  Even I felt a little sick as we took corner after corner at speed.

  “Can’t this thing go any faster?” Tabitha urged.

  She was sitting in the front of the squad car while the rest of us were crammed into the back. I hadn’t liked it, but couldn’t argue. Her kids were the ones in danger. Even if Astrid felt like my daughter, she wasn’t. Not biologically, anyway, even if I’d thought of her as mine for a while now. I couldn’t help but wonder if Tabitha would want to join our coven now that she’d definitely be outed from Mother’s. And how would this new revelation change how Tabitha interacted with her children? Would they be grateful to know she’d protected them, or still bitter about how she’d gone about it?