I would not let it.

  "Very well," Rafe murmured. "The spell is different for each species. Cleverly devised to match our DNA perfectly. For a werewolf, it creates utter loyalty to the All-Mother. It also makes them somewhat loyal to all witches, but especially Ama. They would die in droves for her approval. Anything she asks of them, they will gladly do. Even if it means their death."

  "Nasty," I said.

  "Loss of freedom is a vile thing, Catalin. It is unconscionable."

  "And the vampires?"

  "Ah, the vampires were trickier for our illustrious leader. The vampires are naturally strong, stronger than witches physically, but not necessarily stronger in their magia."

  "Not necessarily?" I pressed.

  "There are a few who could have fought her, had they known what she planned. It is too late now. Water long gone under the bridge."

  I wasn't sure about that. Something in his voice was wistful.

  "Our blood is sacred, Catalin," he continued in his normal tone of voice; as if discussing a change in the weather. Not…this. "It provides eternal life."

  "What?" I whispered.

  "Should you sup of my blood, sorgina, you would live forever and ever as young and beautiful as you currently are. What would you do for that?"

  "Not drink your fucking blood, that's for fucking sure," I said.

  And he threw back his head and laughed.

  Cat

  "You're not joking," I said, scowling at the laughing vampire. "Your blood is some sort of elixir of eternal life?"

  He sobered. "That is exactly what it is. It is precious, priceless, and never given to anyone but our mates."

  "Don't tell me; you mate for life. Eternal life."

  "Is that such a bad thing?"

  "It's a bit cliche."

  "Where do you think the term cliche comes from?" Rafe waved his hand around to indicate the world around us. "Something might be overused, but that does not make it untrue."

  I shook my head, drumming my fingers distractedly on the picnic table's top.

  "So, what did the evil witch do to your special blood?" I asked.

  "We are compelled to provide our blood to the witches."

  I grimaced. "That sucks." I hadn't intended the pun, but there it was.

  Rafe didn't laugh at it.

  "It is a violation," he said. "We cannot deny them, should they demand it. And they use that control over us to give them a semblance of control in their lives. Witches —" he glanced at me and then shrugged unapologetically "— are vile creatures. The power they hunger for twists them into evil beings. They seek pleasure in pain and delight in oppression. The All-Mother subjugates them; forces them to be subordinate to her when it is not in their nature to have one leader above all others. This twisting of their core values is twisted further by the curse suppressing their lust for power. The end result is a need to control their environment in any way they can. The banpiro curse allows them that opportunity."

  I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was horrific.

  "Why hasn't anyone killed her?"

  He smiled at me, a thin-lipped expression of bemusement and not genuine mirth.

  "No one can touch her who is cursed, Catalin. She is The Involition now and we all — blindly — agreed to her curses. I am a Banpiro of The Involition and she is my All-Mother. You have no idea how lucky you are to be free of that. Guard it well, sorgina. For once it is gone, so is life as you know it."

  I stared at him, unable to think of anything I could say that would ease his pain and suffering. Who the hell was this witch to do such a thing to her own people?

  "You lived in peace once, I gather?" I said.

  "Yes. Us against the humans." He smiled. A reminiscent smile lacking the forced bemusement of before. "A council of the wise and aged from among us guided our people. We worked together to keep our world secret. Occasionally a witch would acquire too much power and become mad with it or a werewolf would die from the agony of a forced change." His voice lowered to a mere whisper. "Or a vampire would burn in the sun, trapped in its blazing glory, unable to save themself. The curses seemed to be a salvation."

  "But they weren't."

  He shook his head. "No one saw it coming. She hid her intentions well. So powerful, so cunning, so evil. And now she leads us and we must obey."

  "Obey The Involition."

  "The most sacred of our rules and it came about through treachery."

  I stared into the trees that surrounded us at the rest stop; heart sad, pulse thumping with disquiet. How did I stay out of her clutches? Was it even possible?

  "What do you think I can do for you, Raphael?" I asked.

  "You are free of her. Once trained, you may be able to challenge her."

  "For the All-Mother position? No, thank you."

  "The curses cannot be broken, Catalin. Thwarted on occasion, certainly. But broken? Never. We will always be compelled to provide our blood and body to a witch when asked. They will always be subordinate to the All-Mother. And werewolves would pit themselves against Armageddon if the All-Mother asked it of them; so blind in their devotion they trip over each other to do her bidding."

  "Wait. Blood and body? You said nothing about your body before."

  He winced and looked away. "There is a more practical reason why we only share our blood with our mates."

  "Because you end up bonking when you do it?"

  "It is meant to be an intimate experience, a bonding."

  "You're bonded to a witch?!"

  "No. They would never allow such intimacy and trust. They deny us their part of the experience. They take our blood and use our bodies, sating their lust in the only way she allows them, but give us nothing in return."

  "Fuck me," I whispered. "That is…" I had no words.

  "It is our world. A world you will be dragged into, kicking and screaming, and once indoctrinated, you too shall demand it of us."

  And they — he, Raphael Nonpareil, a proud and I thought once powerful vampire — would not be able to deny me.

  I stood up and paced away from the picnic table, my hands pressed firmly into my stomach to stop me from expelling my breakfast all over the wildflowers that spread through the clearing as if a fresh breeze.

  The horror of it all. The bleak hopelessness. The violation.

  "If it helps," he said drily, "we enjoy it. We are physical beings, and in fucking a witch, we can make them at least beg for something."

  "You cannot tell me you willingly have sex with a person who is making you give your very special blood to them so they can live forever as beautiful people. You can't!"

  "I admit when a male witch demands it of me, I am reluctant."

  Son of a bitch. I shook my head, aware my eyes were wide and my face blanched of all colour.

  "Come, Catalin. You cannot say you have not thought of fucking me. I certainly have thought of fucking you once or twice."

  Nice. Very nice. Jerkwad.

  "Your world disgusts me," I snarled.

  "Do you see why I rebel now?"

  Oh, Raphael.

  "Yes," I said simply. "How do you manage that, by the way? Shouldn't the curse prevent you from questioning your world as the All-Mother created it?"

  "Very astute. Yes, it should. But I am different from the rest of my kind."

  Ah, now we were getting somewhere.

  "Yeah, and why's that?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and tucking my fingers under my armpits. They were trying to tell me something, and I didn't want to be distracted right now.

  "Did you not hear my pledge?" Rafe asked. "King of a Dead Realm? Master of Nobody?"

  "I thought those were just titles you all called yourselves. Vampires are pretty up themselves in all the books I've read."

  He grinned at me. "You've read vampire romances, sorgina?"

  "Who hasn't?" I replied, not falling for his teasing this time.

  "They are not empty titles," he said, sobering. "I am the strongest of my kind. The eldest. I, in another life, would be their ruler."

  "But the All-Mother rules now."

  "Precisely. She is not aware of my position; we all are very careful to keep that knowledge to ourselves. And now our pact has forced me to tell you."

  Yeah, I got it. He wasn't happy about sharing his secrets with me.

  "Rather me than a Sorgina of The Involition, though, right?"

  "Catalin, as much as it chagrins me, there is no guarantee I can keep you out of her clutches forever. And once you have been indoctrinated into The Involition, you will gladly use that knowledge against me to have even a modicum of control in your pitiful life."

  I wouldn't. I was pretty sure I wouldn't. Who was I kidding, I had no idea what I would become if the All-Mother got her hooked claws into me.

  "I've said I'm sorry," I murmured. "I won't say it again."

  He stared at me as if he could see right into me. I was sure he couldn't. I untucked my fingers and shook them out. They ached.

  "Why do you do that?" Rafe asked.

  "They tingle when my magia is working." Seems I couldn't deny him an answer to a question either. May she return the favour tenfold. Fuck my life.

  "Your magia is working now?" Rafe asked, standing up and looking around the clearing.

  "Ah, yeah," I said, suddenly needing to know what my magic was telling me.

  "What exactly does your innate magia do?"

  "Innate magia?" I asked.

  "It's the magic that comes most naturally to you. You don't even have to think about it, it just is."

  "Precognition," I said, getting his meaning. It was the only magic I knew I did, but that was probably because it was innate. Exactly like he said. "It offers warnings when I'm in danger, focuses me on things I hadn't noticed before, or points me in a different direction when I need to change course."

  "Right," Rafe said, all business. "So which of those is it doing now?"

  I struggled to think, suddenly a little panicked about everything. And then my body calmed as if I'd taken a valium and my fingers gave me the answer.

  "Warning," I said. "Something's coming."

  "Ilya," Rafe spat. "Get in the car. I'll drive."

  "I can drive. It's my car."

  "My reflexes will be better than yours. One day, maybe, with the aid of well-controlled magia, you will outstrip me in every way that counts. But for now, I am the master and you are the student. Get in the passenger seat, Catalin."

  I glared at him. He stood patiently with an outstretched hand, waiting for the keys to my car.

  "I really don't like you," I snapped, slapping the keys into his open palm.

  "I despise your kind and want to rid the Earth of every single one of you. I think my hatred outshines yours."

  "Not hardly. I can hate pretty damn good."

  "Then we understand each other."

  Somewhere beyond the magical clearing I'd either magicked up or hadn't, a wolf howled. The same eery sound I'd heard outside Rafe and Brant's hotel the night before.

  "He is on the hunt," Rafe said, sliding into the driver's side of the car. I raced around and dropped into the passenger seat, still chafing at him taking command of the driving.

  "A bit stupid, announcing his intention like that," I said, buckling up as Rafe started the little car. "He could have snuck up on us."

  "I never said werewolves are intelligent, Catalin. Just focused."

  "And she's got him focused on us."

  "Yes." The tyres spun as Rafe gunned the car, turning it in a tight circle to face the exit. "She knows."

  "Does she know exactly what you've told me or just that you've spoken about The Involition and the curses?"

  "She won't know what has been said, but she'll be aware you've either bewitched me into speaking, thwarting the curse — which would mean you're a powerful witch — or I am rebelling and willingly educating you. She has suspected for some time, I fear, that I wish to rebel. Without proof, she has been reluctant to kill me, but that time is over now."

  "Why was she reluctant to kill you, Raphael?" I asked as the tyres gripped the tar seal and the engine whined as Rafe accelerated along the highway. Could a car outrun a werewolf?

  "I am good at my job."

  "There must be other watchers. That can't be it."

  His jaw ticked. I studied it, but his weaving driving style had me having to look forward or risk puking all over him.

  "What aren't you telling me?" I demanded.

  "All witches are the same," he snapped.

  "Please," I said. "Oh, powerful vampire, what aren't you telling little old me?"

  "You know, Catalin, I have never met a witch like you before."

  "Ain't that the truth, buddy."

  He snorted a laugh, dodged the Citroen around a semi, and then fishtailed the rear as we slipped between two SUVs; going well over the speed limit.

  "Well?" I pressed.

  "It is my blood that sustains her," he murmured.

  Which meant, the All-Mother sated her lust on his body.

  "It's okay," I told him. "I'm going to kill her."

  He reached over a hand and briefly gripped mine in his. The action was so foreign to what I thought I knew of him, I stopped breathing. Vulnerable and soft. Not unforgiving and ruthless.

  "You're not what I pictured a vampire would be, either, Raphael," I muttered.

  In silence, we sped on. Somewhere behind us — growing evermore distant — a werewolf howled.

  Rafe

  Ididn't want to believe her. I certainly couldn't trust her. But those words. That promise. It opened something up inside me that I thought long buried.

  We shouldn't have brought a pact into this, I knew, but what choice did I have? I couldn't break the curse on my own — I didn't even think it was possible — but with Catalin's magia I could thwart it better than I had before.

  And it had worked. The rush of freedom I felt when I answered Catalin's questions was intoxicating, even as I was compelled to answer questions I wished not to answer.

  The release from Ama's hold outshone the binds of Catalin's magia. And that was dangerous. Very dangerous. Exchanging one powerful witch overlord for another had not been my plan. I was treading the edge of a very deep abyss here. One misstep and all would be lost forever.

  But I could do this. I was sure of it. I had waited a long time, biding my time, until the right opportunity presented. And then the All-Mother assigned me to watch Catalin Aguirre, a suspected witchling outside of The Involition.

  She fell right into my hands and I could not have hoped for a better chance than this. What I could do with Catalin as my morroi! But she had forced answers from me that would put her on guard now.

  I had hoped to keep our blood's purpose out of it. But she had dragged that truth from me as easily as Ama sucked the blood from my neck. I had been powerless against her.

  When Ama demanded I sustain her, something inside me withered and damn near died.

  But when Catalin had asked a question of me, that same something had schemed and plotted and dreamt of ways to outwit the witch whose magia forced my compliance.

  As if she was a fucking challenge to be met.

  I had never felt such invigoration before. Or if I ever had, I had long forgotten its sweet sensation; its delectable taste. I licked my lips now as I swerved around practically immobile cars on the highway. I could recall the taste of Catalin's blood clearly. The feel of her body pressed to mine. Twice now, I had felt her rapid heartbeat through the nearness of our bodies.

  I wanted more. And yet, now was the time for caution not abandon. A new ituna took days to settle. The magia we had both spent was fighting to find an equilibrium that it could live with. She could ask me anything right now and I would want to answer her.

  And I could do the same to her.

  To speak nothing of the need to trust each other. What was she thinking? What had I been thinking not better preparing her? Trust of all things!

  And yet, perhaps that trust could help me. She knew a sharing of blood created a bond now. She understood our kind's blood status better. There was no way I could trick her into a morroi/maisu pairing. But could I use her trust in me to convince her that such a bond was to her benefit?

  To be in the thrall of a vampire — a servant/master pairing created through the sharing of blood — was a beautiful thing. Witches naturally despised it. But that was because of their upbringing. There were many morroi/maisu pairings when I was a youngling that served both participants well. Better than a pact, almost as good as a mate-bond, it provided security, trust, power and loyalty. A two-way street, where one must still technically be the master; it was the way of nature to have an alpha in command.

  The terminology was ancient, of course. Out of date, to be sure. And there were those who could misuse the pairing, to truly rule as master over a servant. But she did not have to know that. She had not been raised a witch; brainwashed to think ill of my kind. Popular human culture had even immortalised us as lost souls needing saving, or powerful protectors, unable to stop ourselves from rescuing the damsel in distress.

  And she certainly did not need to know I had intended a totally different pairing than those I'd witnessed as a youngling.

  It could be possible. The pact might yet make all my hopes and wishes come true. I just needed to keep my guard up, not let her charm me like she did in that clearing. If I stayed on guard, then I could circumvent the ituna's magia. Give her just enough to satiate her desire for truth, and keep the secrets that allowed me to earn her trust.

  My main goal now was to enthral her. She was powerful. No doubt about it. Maybe even powerful enough. I would keep her alive, out of Ama's clutches, and unleash her on the All-Mother when the witch least expected it.

  But first, we had to lose Ilya.

  I let my magia flow from me and enter the eterrera — the ether — seeking out any sign of a wolf in pursuit of the car. We could easily outpace him, but that did not mean he would stop chasing us. My magic stretched to the end of its reach and found nothing. I was a little unsettled by that.