“Get lost,” I whispered.

  “I’ve told you what future you have to look forward to if you refuse blood.”

  “I’ll take my chances as a mummy.”

  Valserak sighed, sounding for all the world like a professor disappointed in a sub-par answer. “I thought you might say that. But unfortunately for you, I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. You will complete this transition. You’re too valuable a resource to lose.”

  Valserak reached up and raked his nails over his throat, drawing thin lines of blood. They gleamed in the diffuse lamplight like liquid ruby, and I couldn’t help but yearn toward him when the beads began to run down his pale skin. Soon they’d soak into his collar, lost from sight. The thought was unbearable. A soft whine built in my throat. Valserak smiled knowingly.

  Then his hand lashed out, faster than even my new eyes could track, seizing the nape of my neck in a vise grip, hauling me onto my knees, dragging me as far forward as the chains would allow. He tilted his head, allowing me better access, and then pressed my mouth to his throat. My tongue darted out to catch the droplets beading on his skin before I could stop myself.

  The flavor burst in my mouth, warm and rich, reminding me forcefully of a dessert Libby made every year for Yule. Or Christmas, as she insisted on calling it.

  My aching fangs drove deep into his throat even as my brain yelled at them to stop. But there was no stopping them now—they were acting purely on instinct. Valserak sucked in a startled breath and used his grip on my hair to draw me back, just a little, without ever forcing me off him. I didn’t care. The feelings of skin and muscle parting under my teeth, blood pouring into me, warming me from the inside out was nothing short of orgasmic. I might have moaned in relief. I made some kind of noise, because Valserak’s quiet, triumphant laughter shook us both.

  “You could learn to enjoy this, Astrid,” he said and his voice was soft. “You could learn to view me not as your enemy, but your friend.” Then he looked me up and down. “And, perhaps, something more.”

  I couldn’t even summon outrage when he fiddled with my hair and even dared to brush his lips across my skin. His touch was almost tender. And wrong. I didn’t want him touching me. At least, the sane part of me didn’t. The vampire half wanted to show gratitude. Bare my throat. Let him take whatever he wanted from me.

  Like I said, she was too stupid to live.

  Valserak cut me off long before I was ready. My body was still aching in places, though the headache was gone, and I could finally face the light without wincing. My muscles had come alive and began reporting injury from all the times I’d tried to wrench the chains from the wall. The cold had done one thing. It kept me numb to everything else. Now, with just a little of the precious stuff inside me, I could feel again. And it was awful.

  “Please.”

  The word escaped my lips without my permission. The shame of it made my insides burn. A witch begging a vampire for anything was so humiliating I thought I could die all over again. Every single one of my species would hex me into oblivion for daring to ask. But I didn’t care. I needed more. Now that I’d had a taste, I’d go crazy thinking about all the ways I could get it.

  Valserak pressed a firm kiss to my mouth. I almost retched. Instead, I contented myself with biting him, getting a few more precious drops of his blood before he drew back, laughing at me.

  “I do love it when they beg,” he whispered against my mouth. “It’s especially sweet from a witch. I didn’t intend to turn you at first. But after getting a taste of that blood in your veins...” He shivered in delight. “Well, I had to have you. Watching you suffer is the most entertainment I’ve had in months. The horror in a witch’s eyes when she realizes she’s lost her powers is delicious.”

  Power.

  The word struck home, ringing in my head like a struck bell. My mind had been so foggy, consumed by cold and the horror of my situation to think clearly. With Valserak’s blood running through me now, the cobwebs cleared, and I could finally start to formulate a plan. I knew something that Valserak didn’t.

  Witches didn’t keep their power after the change. But faeries did. He had no idea who and what I was, which meant there was a chance. I just had to bide my time, practice, and get a little stronger. Then I could get out of this wretched place and find my friends.

  “More, please,” I said, my voice sounding haunted. But this time there was no remorse because now I was in charge of what I was doing and what I was asking. Now I was playing the part. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

  Valserak stood and paced toward the doors. I watched him go with mounting frustration. Now that I finally had a plan, the bastard was going to leave. Typical.

  “Tomorrow, pet. I’ll have Gregory bring you a nice, juicy werewolf, hmm?”

  I tried to look eager. I didn’t have to fake it much. I wanted blood. Valserak cast one last smirk over his shoulder before he disappeared from sight, slamming the cellar doors after him. Darkness descended on me again, and this time, it was welcome.

  “Why Astrid what a big nose you have,” I muttered to myself when I was sure he’d gone.

  “All the better to cast with,” I answered myself. “Now, let’s break out of this hellhole once and for all.”

  Chapter Seven

  Maverick

  I stared at the page, not sure if I was reading it right.

  It didn’t make sense. I’d been searching the records Professor Madden left before my arrival, searching for the one concrete clue Astrid had left. I needed to find the mysterious Morgana and shake some answers out of her.

  I found Morgana’s name in my sixth-year class, struck through with angry slashes of black pen, and had to use unveiling potions to finally scrub the thing clean.

  There was only one Morgana in the day class. And she was a Grimsbane. So why the hell would Astrid trust a Grimsbane, after everything she’d been through at Vivian’s hands? Why had Morgana’s name been blotted out? What on earth did she have to do with any of this? Every time I uncovered an answer, I had three new burning questions that confounded me.

  A headache pounded a tattoo against my skull. I’d been fighting it since the afternoon when Taliyah had made her grim pronouncement. We hadn’t spoken much after that. I didn’t want to believe it, no matter how experienced she was with this sort of thing. Astrid couldn’t be dead. I refused to believe it until I saw her unmoving on the ground.

  A soft knock at the door tore my attention away from the bewildering name on the page. When I opened it, I found a petite girl with mousy brown hair and a thin face waiting for me. Dark circles ringed her eyes. She looked as tired as I felt and stood with her shoulders curled forward as though waiting to be struck. A pulse thudded hard and fast, noticeable against the thin skin of her throat. She had no supernatural allure or the distinct tinge of malevolence that clung to a demon, which meant she had to be a day class girl. So, what was she doing out past curfew?

  When I got a closer look, I noticed she was clutching something. And she was watching me through wide, wary eyes. Whatever that something was, she held it up after a moment of nervous silence, presenting it to me. It was a thermos.

  “Good evening, sir.”

  I frowned. “Who are you? And what are you doing up so late?”

  “You ordered coffee,” she said, glancing around nervously.

  I hadn’t and I was ready to tell her so, but something in her eyes stopped me cold. The lines in her throat had gone tight with stress. Her lips wobbled as though she was ready to burst into tears, and her body was shaking like a leaf. She was scared and the coffee was a ruse—she obviously needed to speak to me and this was the only way she could come up with.

  “Right,” I muttered, opening the door further. “Come in. You can put it on my desk.”

  Her breath came out in a relieved gust. She scurried inside the room, eyes darting every which way when the door clicked shut behind her. A little of her anxiety seemed to ease when I reactivated my ward, sealing the room from prying ears.

  “Sit,” I said, jabbing a finger at the bed. “You’re free to speak,” I continued. “I’ve warded this space so no one can overhear us.”

  It felt odd to have her in the bedroom/office space Taliyah and I shared and I dreaded the teasing or third degree that would come if Tally happened to show up and found a young woman on the bed. I’d given Tally a talisman to undo the wards so she wouldn’t have to seek me out every time she came and went. And that meant the security here wasn’t exactly secure. The talisman could be stolen or, failing that, Taliyah could be coerced into opening the door, but it couldn’t be helped. And besides, anything that tried to get the jump on Taliyah would get what was coming to them.

  The girl placed the thermos on my desk gingerly and then sat, still shaking. Her courage had flagged the moment she’d set foot inside the room, and she’d dropped her gaze down to her sneakers. She wasn’t wearing a school uniform. The khaki pants, polo shirt, and white apron weren’t flattering, and boasted a number of suspicious stains. She had to be kitchen staff. Did that mean this girl knew Astrid?

  “What’s your name?” I said, doing my best to keep my voice neutral. She already looked like she wanted to bolt, and looming over her like an overgrown bat would only make her break down into hysterics. I had to keep calm, even if every impulse I had was screaming at me to press her hard until I got some answers.

  “Elly,” she whispered. Then she seemed to find her courage and looked up at me. “I... I know who you are.”

  That was a bit of a shock, and I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant. “Who I am?”

  She nodded. “You’re Astrid’s brother.”

  I could have denied it, but owing to the fact that she already knew who I was, I decided not to. “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve seen a picture of you,” she answered with a little smile. “I know... knew... your sister.”

  The casual use of the past tense pissed me off. Everyone kept saying or acting like Astrid was gone. Hell, sometimes I couldn’t help but think it. The fact was, though, that we still didn’t have a body. And until we did, I couldn’t accept the thought that she was gone. Stubbornness or denial? I didn’t know. I just knew one thing for sure. This wasn’t over.

  “Explain,” I said.

  Elly nodded. “Astrid worked in the kitchens with me and she showed me a picture of you and the rest of her coven once.”

  “Ah.”

  “And... I know it can’t be a coincidence that you’re here—pretending to be someone else. You’re looking for her.”

  “I am. Do you know where she is?”

  Elly’s head whipped back and forth quickly, reminding me of a dog shaking water from its fur. The more I looked at her, the more certain I became that such a description was accurate. I’d met more than my share of werewolves living in the Hollow, and it wasn’t difficult to spot one once you knew what to look for. The women were almost always timid, their metaphorical backbones ground down into paste by the time they reached marriageable age. If you wanted a dutiful wife, you chose a werewolf. I’d never sought obeisance in a woman, so I found the attitude off-putting.

  “I don’t know where she is,” Elly whispered. One fat tear landed on the back of her hand, then another. I couldn’t read her face but realized with a sinking stomach that she was working up to a sobbing fit. “I came to see you because I’m s-so scared.” She paused as she tried to get her tears under control. “I haven’t seen her in a while...”

  “Vivian,” I started, wanting to see where this Elly stood in relation to the witches.

  Her eyes immediately glowed with hate. “I don’t care what Vivian says or what lies she’s told you. Astrid wouldn’t just leave. She was working so hard to beat those snooty bitches.”

  I ignored the impulse to spell her to tell the truth. The hitching confession, paired with the tears and her fear meant I couldn’t parse any meaning from what she was saying. For a fleeting moment, I wished Taliyah was here. She had training. She would’ve known exactly how to handle someone under extreme stress without setting them off. If I said or did the wrong thing, the werewolf would scamper, and there was no telling when I’d see her again. If ever.

  I knelt at the edge of the bed and offered her a hand. It felt awkward as hell. Like Wanda, I wasn’t a fan of open affection. I could count the number of times I’d allowed a woman to hug me to date, and most of those had been Astrid. Before Taliyah, Astrid was the sole exception to the rule, the only one allowed past my guard for any length of time.

  “Tell me what you know,” I said.

  After a moment’s thought, I leaned over and snatched the thermos from my desk, unscrewing the cap so I could pour her a cup of coffee. She looked like she needed something stronger, but I hadn’t packed any of Wanda’s wine in my carry-on. Elly let out a shaking breath and took the cup gingerly. She almost spilled it on her lap before she could get her shaking under control.

  “I don’t know a lot,” she whispered.

  “Tell me what you can,” I insisted. “Even small details could be relevant. I need to know what you know... My sister’s life is on the line.”

  Elly’s eyes fluttered closed, and more tears streaked down her pale face. She nodded, almost to herself, and took a long drink from the cup, draining it in one go. I refilled it absentmindedly, never taking my eyes off her.

  “Astrid’s room was right next to mine. She didn’t have a work or school uniform when she arrived, so I let her borrow mine. Mads, the cook, split us up into work groups for the semester and she was assigned to work with Oleander and me. And pretty soon, we all became friends.”

  “Okay.”

  “She and Oleander were close,” Elly continued, dropping her gaze to her cup of coffee. “I was jealous of that at first. I... I’ve liked him for a long time. We lived down the street from each other in the town closest to Blood Rose. We used to talk every day and then that just... stopped. And, all of a sudden, he was always with her.”

  “Oleander? Who and what is he?”

  Was that the name of the vampire Astrid had been ‘servicing?’ I didn’t believe Vivian’s insinuation that she was just glomming onto a leech to get supplies. It would be worse than that. If Astrid was tangling with the undead, it was because she liked one of them. Hopefully, she hadn’t fallen in love with the bastard.

  “His full name is Oleander Greenfoot, and he’s a summer sprite. He’s legacy staff, like me.”

  At my bemused look, she continued with the longsuffering tone of someone who had to explain the term often.

  “There are legacy students and legacy staff. Astrid should have been a legacy student. A lot of witches from your family have come to study here. Most of the witches and vampires are from legacy lines. Sometimes there are High Sidhe legacy lines too, but they’re less common. Legacy staff are people who live in the nearby towns who come to work in the castle for their education. It’s been going on since the castle’s founding. I’m the fourteenth person in my family to try to get a degree at Blood Rose. Oleander’s family goes even further back than mine. The fae are so long-lived, you know?”

  I nodded, motioning for her to continue. She took a deep breath and another sip of coffee before she could find the words.

  “I was jealous of Astrid and I sort of...” Her cheeks flushed pink. “I followed them sometimes. I thought they’d sneak off to have sex or something, but I’d always find them in the library or some out of the way corridor meeting up with Morgana and Rook.”

  At last, something useful. “Morgana Grimsbane, I assume?” She nodded. “And who’s this Rook person?”

  Elly smiled sheepishly. “Right. I forget not everyone will recognize his nickname. His real name is Chesley Thorn. Chess, to his father and some of his oldest friends, but mostly he goes by ‘Rook’. He’s the headmaster’s son and the witch’s hostage.”

  Ah, so that was the vampire. Of course, it was too much to hope that Astrid had actually been cavorting with the faerie, Oleander. That would have been something I could live with. And more importantly, that she could live with. She was too damned young to be mingling with vampires. She’d make choices with her hormones, not her head, and I’d be left to pick up the pieces after the bastard broke her heart.

  Then one word of what Elly had said stood out from the rest and I frowned.

  “Hostage?”

  Elly nodded. “It’s how the Blood Wars were ended. The vampires and witches exchanged members of their families with the knowledge that they’d have to keep the peace or each side would sacrifice their hostage. Rook is the witch’s hostage. Morgana Grimsbane is the vampire’s hostage.”

  “And these hostages are just allowed to wander around freely?”

  Elly ducked her head, unable to meet my eyes for more than a second or two. “No. They’re supposed to be under constant supervision, but they always sneak out. Oleander helps. He and Morgana are friends, sort of. That’s how Oleander met Rook.”

  “And Morgana and Rook?” I couldn’t imagine a witch in league with a vampire.

  Elly shook her head. “Morgana and Rook hate each other, but they have one thing in common—they’re both stuck here and have been. And they both want to put an end to it. I assumed that’s what they were doing in the beginning. You know, trying to figure out how to shake the spells that keep them stuck to the castle grounds. I’d want to be free too... if I were them.”

  “But you don’t think that’s still the case now?”

  She chewed her lip. “I... No. No one has seen either of them in at least a week. Oleander was looking for his missing cousin, Shasta, before school even began. She was due to start school with us this fall, but she just disappeared before the start of term.”

  “I’d heard something about the fae disappearing,” I said, remembering what Tally had told me she’d overheard.

  Elly nodded. “There have been more who have gone missing—I mean, more than Shasta. I think Oleander got Morgana involved, then Rook, and eventually Astrid too. And then... Astrid disappeared.”