I lifted my head and looked down the length of Catalin's body. Her skin was unblemished, her toe had regrown and her feet were once again whole. I moved from behind her, reluctant to give up the intimacy we had shared in the nearness of our bodies, but needing to check before I forced her to stop drinking my blood.

  Carefully lifting her lip from my wrist, I peered at her teeth. All whole. All present and accounted for. A sense of pride washed over me at my blood having achieved that. At the thought, it was I, her maisu, who had healed her completely.

  As a maisu should their morroi.

  "That is enough, Catalin," I said, pulling my wrist from her mouth.

  Her lips followed my arm, her head leaning forward on her elegant neck, her delicate tongue peeking out as if to taste the very last drop. Her eyes opened to beg me for more, and a piercing blue met mine. So bright and vibrant with the magia within them. Normally, our eyes turn violet when suffused in magic, but Catalin was not normal, I was coming to think.

  "You are healed," I said, sitting back, placing space between us.

  I had an alarming need to ensure she felt safe, felt unthreatened. I stood up and returned to my chair by the window, taking the time needed to check the parking lot outside of our motel room through the still-closed curtains. All was clear. All was quiet.

  The moon shone down from a pitch-black sky. I could feel no otso nearby. And no other sorgina.

  I turned back to my witch and offered a small smile.

  Catalin stretched her arms above her head, her body twisting in a head-to-toe flex of her muscles.

  "God, I feel good," she said.

  "The blood," I offered, claiming my seat, gaining solid ground beneath me in the form of an uncomfortable chair to sit upon.

  "Is it always like that?" She opened her eyes again and looked directly at me. I heard the hitch in her breath, saw the dilation of her pupils, and felt the need in her body as if it were mine.

  "Not always, no," I said.

  "Shit," she muttered. "You look…" She didn't finish her sentence.

  "I look good enough to eat?" I offered and chuckled. "So do you, sorgina."

  "Is this what that bitch feels when she feeds from you?" she demanded; a jealous sheen to her eyes I had not seen before now.

  "It is more control Ama seeks than desire, but the desire is a byproduct of supping the blood. The All-Mother simply uses it as a weapon."

  "How do you stand it?" She looked horrified and furious.

  I liked that.

  I knew it was simply the bond settling.

  A morroi should wish to protect their maisu from such.

  "I compartmentalise, Catalin. It is a skill you should hone as well."

  "'Compartmentalise.' You know that's fucked up, don't you, Raphael?"

  "Of course. But one must do what one must to survive."

  "Like me drinking your blood."

  "You would have survived without it, Catalin," I could not stop myself from admitting. "But not in time to save Harlee."

  "So a choice. But Ama doesn't give you a choice."

  If she were to face the All-Mother now, I knew she would do everything in her power to slaughter her. The bond rode her hard, but the effects would diminish with time.

  For me, the effects were different. More sensual than bloodthirsty. But I liked her bloodthirstiness.

  She would need that, I was certain.

  "The curses are binding," I said, instead of confessing any of my true thoughts. "They kill us slowly, even as they save us from ourselves."

  "And Ama made the curses."

  She would not be deterred from her vengeance. Not right now, in any case.

  "It is almost dawn," I said. "You should shower. I'll acquire some new clothes for you and find us some breakfast. And then we should find the boy."

  "Get Harlee," she said; face paling as her mind hiccuped with the change of focus.

  There would come a time when she may be able to fight Ama, but not yet. Not untrained. And maybe not ever if she were indoctrinated.

  I wasn't sure how to stop that. We shared a pact and a bond, it may well be enough. But others had shared such in the past and all of them succumbed to the curses in the end.

  Ama was simply too strong.

  But as I watched with fascination as Catalin walked toward the bathroom, the sheet wrapped around her body as if that could stop me from imagining every curve, every dip and hollow, I wondered if — I prayed that — she was strong enough.

  A powerful witch, she would certainly become.

  But my powerful witch or Ama's?

  I pushed the thought from my mind and exited the motel room. Outside, the birds had started their morning chorus. No shadows moved. No scent of wolf lingered in the air. No magia to indicate a witch was watching.

  I'd chosen this place because of its out-of-the-way location, and the downtrodden state of the building. No sane — or proud — vampire would choose to stay here.

  It was debatable whether I was sane. I had just pair-bonded with a witch, after all. And my pride had long been sacrificed for this war.

  I was closer now than I had ever been to freeing us. Closer now than ever to killing Ama and ridding the world and my kind of her vile control.

  So close, I could almost taste victory. But wasn't that exactly when it all would come tumbling down?

  No one had taken the All-Mother on and survived. A few had tried. Even a few had banded together and sought her downfall in numbers. Nothing worked. She was too strong, too entrenched in The Involition itself.

  The Involition was a place, a creed, and also a woman.

  All but one needed culling.

  But none had accomplished even a single eradication of the three before now. It might still be a forlorn hope. I might still be dreaming when I should be hiding my true desires.

  But for once in my long, long insufferable life, I felt hope.

  And her name was Catalin Aguirre.

  Cat

  The hot water washed away all the blood and sweat and tears, but it couldn't wash away the guilt of leaving Harlee behind at The Involition.

  Logically, I knew we'd had no choice. I'd failed at saving her, yes, but I'd been outsmarted, outgunned, outdone at every turn. It didn't mean, though, that I couldn't still pull this audacious plan off.

  I'd find the boy, pretend to give him over to the All-Mother, and then escape with him and Harlee both.

  It wasn't much of a plan, but I felt sure I could somehow succeed in its execution. In fact, the confidence I felt was so strong, so true, that I didn't even want to question it.

  I would make a fool of the evil witch and come out the winner.

  I stepped out of the shower, towelled off, and wrapped myself up in the thin material. The motel's amenities left a lot to be desired, but that didn't even faze me either. My steps felt light, my heart beat strong enough for me to feel it. Not the thud-thud-thud of panic, but the ka-thud, ka-thud, ka-thud of strength and health and vitality.

  Rafe had warned me. I would have improved strength and health for a short time because I had — how did he put it? — 'supped of the blood'. He hadn't been kidding. I felt more alive than I ever had. Capable of taking on an army of Amas and surviving.

  That gave me pause. I looked down at my foot. The missing toe was back, of course. As were my teeth and anything else that had been hacked, whacked, or sliced out of place. I was whole and the euphoria of that feeling was making me punch drunk.

  I needed to be careful. But hell, being careful hadn't worked before. Maybe I needed to be audacious instead.

  A key sounded out in the door, catching my attention, and Rafe walked in. My eyes met his and in that brief exchange I saw an emotion I hadn't seen in him before. Pride. Sitting here in nothing but a threadbare towel, I'd have expected to see attraction. And there was some of that, to be sure. But more so, there was pride.

  Raphael Nonpareil was extremely proud of something.

  "Clothes," he said, handing over a shopping bag from a popular clothing chain store. "Food," he added, placing a nondescript paper bag on the small table by the window.

  He took a seat in the chair he'd occupied earlier and peered through the curtains.

  "No werewolves out there?" I asked as I took the bag of clothes towards the bathroom with me.

  "None."

  He'd bought me dress jeans in my size and a nice blouse. There was an NCB-appropriate blazer to wear over it. He'd also got me some sensible but stylish shoes. Again in the right size. I could have questioned it, but I was beginning to see that vampires had skills outside of killing people.

  That was almost charitable. I grinned as I dressed, then fluffed my hair with my fingers. That would have to do.

  Walking out of the bathroom, Rafe looked at me and smiled. That smile did things to my body. Things it had done before, sure, but also things that I was pretty sure were only happening because of his blood in my body.

  "Where do we do this?" I asked.

  His eyes darted to the rumpled sheets on the bed but he didn't address the innuendo otherwise. He held out the bag of food instead. "Eat first. Then find the kid."

  It made sense. I felt like I hadn't eaten in days. I glanced at him as I approached the table and food, noting his colour was good and his skin unblemished. He'd fed again while out buying me clothes. It should have repulsed me, but so much had happened to alter my worldview, vampires needing blood to survive didn't really worry me.

  At the moment, strangely, not much did.

  I pulled out a breakfast bagel and started to eat.

  "How did you become a vampire?" I asked between mouthfuls. "Or is it taboo to ask that?"

  "It is not taboo, but it is also not entirely correct. A banpiro can be made, but only in extenuating circumstances. It takes a lot of magia. Most are the product of natural conception."

  "You have vampire parents?"

  "Don't sound so surprised, Catalin. It would be foolhardy to mistake our world for a TV show. There are similarities, but it is nothing like the fiction humans create to explain the inexplicable."

  "Stake through the heart?"

  "Could kill us, if we are low on magic."

  "Garlic and mirrors?"

  "Fantasy."

  "Decapitation?" I asked.

  "Probably fatal."

  "Probably."

  "Magia, when wielded expertly, can accomplish many unimaginable things."

  I dusted my hands off on the paper napkin Rafe had provided. "It all boils down to magic, then," I said.

  "Yes, and you have magic like none other."

  "I do?"

  "The precognition and telepathy are quite rare."

  "But not unique."

  "At this moment in time, perhaps they are. At least, the combination of the two. And together they create quite a package."

  "I'm not an object to drool over, Raphael," I scolded.

  He huffed out an amused laugh. "The boy is quite strong, too, to have contacted you like that."

  "And for being a boy," I said archly.

  Rafe smiled. It was a bit condescending. "Sex makes a difference in our world, Catalin. Get used to it and be thankful you were born a female witch and not a male one."

  "Not so sure I agree with you there, bud. Looks like Ama plans to breed me against my will. And that git on the front desk was more than willing to do the breeding."

  "You think all male witches are as degenerate as the male witch the All-Mother personally chose to man the 'front desk' as you put it? Do you think those with any moral fibre left enjoy being forced upon an unwilling female?"

  "Are there many witches left with any moral fibre, Rafe?"

  He looked away from me. Not in a subservient manner, but because he knew there were not many good witches left if any, and he didn't want to admit that. Inside Rafe, I thought, there was a desperate little boy, wanting his world to have meaning, to be good again.

  "Where are your parents, Rafe?" I asked.

  "Dead," he said.

  Yeah. Raphael Nonpareil was searching for the light in the darkness that Ama had created.

  I closed my eyes and reached out for the boy. It was so fucking easy. My confidence, my determination to fix this wrong in Rafe's world, to help him in any way I could, all came together and made it possible. I knew I could reach the boy telepathically, I needed to reach the boy telepathically, so I did.

  Hello? He sounded small. He sounded tired.

  He sounded broken.

  It's me, I thought, unoriginally. Cat.

  Like a pussy cat?

  Hey, you contacted me, remember? I'm a cop.

  You didn't come.

  I don't know where you are.

  They moved us. They keep moving us. But they're getting angry now. Something didn't happen that they thought would happen and now they're taking it out on us.

  I didn't like the sound of that. What had Rafe and Ama said? The kids were never meant to be found. Clearly, no one had told the kidnappers that.

  Do you have any idea where you are now? I asked.

  I can hear beeping and clanging, and lots of birds. They screech all the time.

  That didn't tell me much — too many coastal towns to pick from in this part of the country.

  The suburb? City? Did you see a road sign?

  They keep us in the container. We don't see anything. But I can look into one of their minds and get a picture for you.

  We can share images?

  Silence and then, You really aren't one of them, are you?

  One of whom? But I thought I knew who he meant.

  I can't say their name. It might call them.

  The bad ones? Ruled by a bad one of us? I tried.

  Yeah. Mommy and Daddy said I had to stay away from them, but yours was the only brightness I could see when I searched. I just forgot.

  He'd been desperate.

  You can't reach your mom or dad?

  They're dead. Said with a finality a young child should not have.

  For a second, maybe two, I questioned my motives. I questioned the plan. But my heart beat strongly, and my body felt both light and full of pent-up energy. I was ready to rumble. I knew I could do this. I would trick the All-Mother and I would win.

  I'm not part of that place, I said. I only just found out about them.

  Your mom and dad didn't warn you about them?

  I don't have a mom and dad.

  A pause, and then in a hopeful kind of voice, Like me?

  Yeah, kid. A bit like you. I don't know how his folks died, but I was guessing it was recently. Maybe when the traffickers took him. Maybe The Involition did it. Although I was pretty sure if The Involition had done it, they would have recognised what the family was and not let the kid be taken by the abductors and left to rot.

  Ama wanted every single witch under her control, including, now, this one.

  Which meant, the traffickers were worse than scum. They were murderous scum. And I had to take that into consideration when I made my move on them.

  I got a picture, the boy suddenly said. An image appeared in my mind. It took a second or two, but I managed to lock it down eventually.

  Well done, I said. I'm on my way. If they move you again, contact me.

  I'm low on magia. This is all you this time and not me.

  I hadn't realised that was possible. I didn't feel in the slightest tired and obviously, I was using magia to do this. I also didn't realise that the kid was using none.

  Can you do something simple? Maybe send up a mental flare or something?

  I don't know what a flare is, but I guess I could poke you.

  I didn't know what a poke was, but I had to hope it'd be obvious if it happened.

  Alright. Hang tight, kid.

  Mikel, he said, fading. My name's Mikel.

  "Mikel," I whispered, opening my eyes.

  Rafe sat opposite me, silently watching. His eyes had violet wending through the blue. Using his magia? Responding to me using mine? I shook my head and then straightened my shoulders. As if I was preparing to deliver bad news.

  It wasn't bad news. It was good news. I knew where the kids were being held.

  The bad news was, I was questioning my resolve. Taking Mikel anywhere near The Involition was a very bad idea.

  But not taking him would mean Harlee's death.

  "Where is he?" Rafe asked.

  I could do this. I had to do this. Harlee was counting on me.

  "Hard to believe, but the fuckers are hiding the container of kids at the port."

  "The port right next door to Wadestown?"

  I nodded my head and let out a breath of air at the same time. On our doorstep. Hiding in plain sight. Damn it!

  "You don't have to do this, Catalin," Rafe murmured.

  "What do you mean? Of course, I do!"

  "It won't work. She'll see right through you."

  "She didn't see through me when I made her think you despised me."

  "Because at one time I did despise you." But no more? "It was easy to believe the spell."

  "I can do this, Rafe," I said, and I realised it was almost a plea. Let me do this.

  Please, stop me.

  I sucked in a breath of air and stood. I couldn't sit still, and we had places to be. Kids to rescue. Agents to save. An evil witch to fool if we were lucky.

  "I make my own luck," I muttered as I walked out of the motel room.

  Rafe said nothing.

  Cat

  It would have made sense to have some backup as we approached the port. But I figured a vampire had to count as at least two NCB operatives. I also figured Rafe would have to use magia to win this fight and having any of my team here would curtail his abilities.

  Getting the boy — Mikel — was the most important thing. I couldn't risk anything happening to the kid.

  The port was a well-guarded area of the city. With that many valuable containers being unloaded and loaded onto ships, it made sense to have decent security. But getting in required a little forethought. We could have flashed badges at the gate — executed this op officially — but I didn't know how deep into the system the traffickers had dug.

  There might have been a sentry in amongst the guards who would warn the traffickers that someone was getting too close and ruin the element of surprise we had going. And I couldn't allow anything to get in the way of me saving Harlee.