“But I should still care that she’s dead, shouldn’t I? I should care that it was only Evan she was looking for all these years, never me. But I don’t. The only thing I’ve been mourning is the mother that I never had, that I wished I’d had.” He sighed as his eyes took on a faraway quality. “You know, sometimes, I even think I’m like her.”
I tugged on his shirt, bringing his focus back to me. “No, no you’re not.”
“Vain. Can’t admit when I’m wrong. Can’t seem to form the word ‘sorry’. Can’t give a compliment.”
“Hey, lots of people are vain to some degree. And you’re not actually as vain as I first thought you were.”
He shook his head adamantly. “No. After coming here and becoming Heir, I forgot who I was and where I came from.”
“Because you wanted to,” I finished quietly.
He sucked in a breath, and I realised he hadn’t looked at it that way before. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah.”
“As for the other stuff…No one likes to admit when they’re wrong. But you know in your own head when you’re in the wrong and you care that you’re in the wrong – that’s what differentiates you from that bitch. ‘Sorry’ would be a nice thing to hear from you occasionally, but I prefer your current mode of apology, which is to f**k me senseless.”
That got me a smile. “And if you can’t give compliments it’s because you don’t know how to, because no one ever gave them to you. What would I do with a load of compliments anyway? Flattery means nothing to me. Actions mean something to me. And you act like you care. I feel that you care.”
“Of course I care.” He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and gently bit down on it. “You…you’re like a patch. You make the anger go away. Until you piss me off, which you do a lot.”
I thumped him in the stomach, shaking my head. “Plonker.”
“You love me really,” he wheezed out, leading me toward the door.
“Yeah, well, you love me.”
“Yes, I do, which is why I get so pissed when you fight me on trying to protect you.”
I shot him a playful, petulant scowl. “How about this: I’ll accommodate this protective streak you have, and you stop freezing me out.”
His brows arched, and I felt his suspiciousness. “That deal sounds fifty/fifty. For you, that’s a first.”
I shrugged. “It’s not like I don’t need a little help right now, is it?”
“Hey, soon enough your gifts will be working again and you’ll be kicking ass like you usually are. Mine, included.”
I chuckled as I exited the room, almost not seeing Magda until it was too late. The gloating smile on her face told me something that made my stomach sink: she’d heard Jared’s comment about my gifts. Oh shit.
Rather than saying anything, she simply turned and headed back to the dining room.
Obviously having reached the same conclusion as me, Jared growled warningly, “Magda.”
Without breaking stride, she peered at him over her shoulder and winked. This wasn’t good. Hand-in-hand, presenting a united front, Jared and I re-entered the dining room. Seeing that she had made a beeline for Marcia and Rowan, I cursed. Smoothly but quickly, Jared and I walked to our table where only Antonio, Luther, Wes, and Lena sat.
“She knows,” Jared told Antonio as we returned to our seats. At Antonio’s confused frown, he elaborated, “Magda. She overheard me talking about Sam’s problem with her gifts.”
Antonio cursed, which raised everybody’s brows since he wasn’t one for swearing. “Once she informs the others, we will have a huge problem on our hands.”
“What exactly is it that you think they’ll do?” I asked.
“Cause a riot,” he replied. “What you have to understand is that this is much like humans having the right to vote for who is president, or prime minister, or whatever they term the ruler of their country. Up to now, no one has objected to you, despite their reservations. Yes, Marcia, Rowan, and Ricardo have issues with you, but they have not publically rejected you. If enough people were to do so, a voting would be held. If the outcome was that most of vampirekind had decided to vote against you, one of two things would have to happen. Jared must choose another life-partner—”
“That will never f**king happen,” Jared vehemently stated.
“—or I would have to choose another Heir. It is vampire-law.”
“Shite,” I uttered. I’d always known that Jared might be under some form of pressure to ‘do better’ than me, but I hadn’t imagined that he might lose his position. That wasn’t an acceptable path to me.
Wes growled. “Is there no way we could just kill her before she has the chance to talk?”
“I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed,” said Jared. “She went over to those three moaners. Now she and Marcia keep looking over, smirking.”
Crap, crap, crap. “No prizes for guessing how this is going to play out.” And what else could we do but sit there and wait for the shit to start?
So we sat and we waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing. Not a bloody thing. “Do you think that maybe she hasn’t told anyone?”
Jared, who was holding my hand and massaging my pulse-point with his thumb, shrugged. “It could be that she’s trying to make us sweat, keep us wondering and worrying.”
“She does like mind games,” mused Luther.
“Let’s find out.” Keeping hold of my hand, Jared walked toward her with a determined stride that I saw made Magda hitch in a breath. Whether it was from arousal or anxiety, I wasn’t sure. “What the f**k is your game?” he demanded quietly.
The weird witch smiled at him and patted his chest. At his growl and my hiss, she dropped her hand. “There is no need to panic, Jared. I told you, I only wish you happiness. If I can be convinced over the next few evenings that you are happy with Sam, I will not reveal what I know.”
“I could just slit your throat now before you do,” he gritted out.
“You could…but I’m not the only one with the knowledge, so that will do you no good. Like I said, I simply want to be assured that you are content.”
He shook his head, glaring at her through narrowed eyes. “You’re playing some sort of game…I’m just not sure what it is yet.”