Where A Witch Goeth

Chapter Forty-Nine: Potions and Plans

"Hey, I think I'm finally getting used to that," I said, as I skipped away from Van's arms toward the door of the bootleg cave. Van had just shadow-walked us here after a brief stopover in our suite for clean clothes. It was the third time I'd shadow-walked this evening, and the first time I felt no disorientation from the experience.

"Excellent," Van replied, putting himself between me and the door. "Remember-"

"To go canny around Henry? Aye, I remember, you silly old gloom merchant," I stuck my tongue out at him and mocked his sometimes Northern Irish accent.

"Gloom merchant?" he scoffed. "It wasn't gloom I was giving you a half-hour ago."

"Hush, Van!" I giggled. "Can't Henry hear you?"

"Not just him!" Ace called through the door cheerfully. "Celie, you dead wrong if you think my brother is currently gloomy. Compared to his normal baseline, he's positively exuberant ever since you started opening your—"

"Choose your next words carefully, brother," Van said mildly through the door. "I'll remind you that you're speaking of my wife, and the Lady of our Sept."

Ace opened the door and leaned against it, hooking thumbs in the suspenders of his rough work clothes. "Oh, I think the lady has a thing to say about whether or not she considers herself your wife, but now that you mention it, Van—she has been awfully reserved with her opinion on the matter. What say you, Ceciliadh? Are you still Miss Dunne, free agent, or do you now claim the revered title of Mistress Livingstone, Lady of Our Sept?"

I tried to see around Ace, but like Evander, his hair grew immoderately when he hungered, and unlike Evander's, Ace's was a mass of spreading curls. Between his broad shoulders and tangle of hair, I couldn't get eyes on Henry.

"Call me whatever you like, Master Shit-Stirrer," I huffed and made an impatient gesture with my hand to indicate Ace should step aside.

A dimple appeared in his right cheek, though he smothered his smile. "Well, now she does sound like your impertinent wife. You've actually called me that before."

"If the shoe fits."

"Stow your banter for another time, you two. You can step aside, Ace, she's got her stinging glamour on and is fully prepared to defend herself if Henry should find his control...erratic." Ace slid away at once, and it was then that I realized his lingering in the door was to make sure that Van actually intended for me to enter.

Henry was sitting alone at the wooden table that was now permanently stained with dark pools—his blood. The bare light bulb above the table had been loosened so that it did not shine and the only light in the room was a candle that sat in front of Henry. There was a stack of books on the table, as well as a scattered pile of sheet music. A guitar leaned against the table, and Henry's saxophone sat propped in a chair, but Henry was entirely focused upon the candle flame and took no notice of me when I entered the room.

"Newborn vampires are often distracted by flames," Evander murmured to me. "We can see so much more of the light spectrum than with our former human sight." He stepped in front of me and said, "Henry, as I told you I would, I've brought you some company to relieve your boredom."

Henry looked up. For one second his face was blank, and before I even had time to register his new, chiseled vampire beauty, he simply disappeared. I felt a flicker of confusion, then I heard Van growl, and Henry reappeared three feet in front of me. I jumped, surprised at his sudden reappearance.

He saw the confusion on my face. He blinked away again and reappeared several more feet from me.

"I'm sorry," he said at once, but he wasn't apologizing to me. His eyes were on Evander.