“You’ll leave nothing on.”
Right as my cloak whooshes to the ground, Lucas’s phone rings. I know by the ringtone it’s Eliza, and Lucas sends the call to voicemail. And then she calls right back.
“Answer it,” I tell him. “Something could be wrong.”
Lucas grumbles but answers the phone. “What?” Blue-and-silver light from my magical galaxy dance across Lucas’s face as he listens to whatever Eliza is saying. “Don’t do anything,” he tells her. “I’ll deal with it when I can.” He ends the call and puts his phone back in his pocket.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“One of our distributers is being threatened again.”
Again…oh, right. “By the group of vampires against assimilation? It’s been so long I thought they gave up.”
“A few months isn’t a long time by vampire standards,” he tells me.
“True,” I agree. “Do you have to go to Chicago?”
“Not now, but yes, I should go,” he sighs. “The distributor they’ve threatened is a family-owned business. One of the founders was turned into a vampire about ten years ago, didn’t want to give up his successful business, and registered with the Vampire Council as soon as it was formed.”
“There wasn’t any sort of VC before, right?” I ask as a shiver goes down my spine. Lucas speeds forward and picks up my cloak, wrapping it around my shoulders. “We’ve always had some sort of Grand Coven, and it’s not like witches are trying to mainstream.”
“No, vampires never abided by rules. It was up to the maker to teach whatever they wanted to the new vampires they sired, and we always knew the danger of revealing ourselves to humans.” He runs his hands down my shoulders, and I step in. “You’re cold.”
“It’s chilly out tonight. This cold snap will be over soon enough, though, and second summer will be here.”
“Second summer? Is that a witch thing?”
I shake my head, hair falling into my face. “No. A Midwest thing. We have third winter, too. Sometimes I swear it’ll never end.” I tip my head to the side, looking out the window. The original glass is still in place, and it’s slightly wavy, distorting the view of the forest. I want to keep as much original as possible in the house, but for effectiveness in regards to heating and air conditioning, all the windows need to be replaced.
“When you get fed up with the cold this winter, we will spend a few weeks at our vineyard.”
“I do like the sound of that.” I let my eyes fall shut and rest my head against Lucas’s chest. “Should we go home and get ready to go to Chicago now? I can text my friends and tell them not to worry about coming over.”
“You can stay here,” Lucas says, running his fingers through my hair. “Getting tangled in vampire business is the last thing you want. And you smell like magic and…and something else.”
He doesn’t have to say it. I’m already at risk for the coven finding out who I am. We can’t be certain what my fellow witches would do if the truth came out, but we know what the vampires would do.
Kill me, though before they did, they’d try to sell me off to the highest bidder. Witch blood has been sold at a high price before. I don’t think anyone—besides Lucas—has even tasted Nephilim blood. If it got out that I was the daughter of the Archangel Michael, vampires would line up around the block to get a taste of me.
And then all of Heaven and Hell would know exactly where I am.Chapter 19I roll over, unable to fall back asleep. Lucas left about half an hour ago, needing to hit the road before dawn. He’s probably almost to Chicago by now with the way he drives.
Kicking off the heated blanket, I grab my pillow and try to get comfortable again, but now I’m cold. And my mind just won’t shut the fuck up.
Sighing, I sit up and run my hands over my face. It’s too early to get up, and I know I’ll be tired later. But I’d rather try and nap this afternoon than lay here tossing and turning.
I conjure a string of blue magic, using it to light up the room and find my pajamas that I had on for a whole two minutes last night before Lucas ripped them off. We didn’t end up watching any of Star Wars, but I don’t think Lucas minded one bit.
Stuffing my feet into the legs of my pajama pants, I fumble my way out of bed, finding my shirt on the ground by the door. I pull it over my head, grab a pair of socks, and go into the kitchen for coffee.
“Dammit,” I grumble when I see the kitchen is still a mess from half-cooking the stir fry last night. “I’ll get to it later.”