Of Witches and Warlocks: The Complete Series

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Betrayal. Oh, how deep the bite of it stung—worse than any bite I'd ever experienced in my life.

Currently, I sat inside the limousine that traveled through the lush Arkansas countryside, watching the green forest rush by. I didn't think Arizona even had this shade of green in it. Everything was so beautiful, but my mind was lost far from the scenery.

Vance sat across the narrow aisle from me, and Damien was at the far end of the stretch in the last seat. I would've found it funny that Vance and I naturally moved to sit as far away from Damien as the vehicle would allow, but right now nothing in my life seemed funny.

I could barely stand to look at Vance, and when I did it was to find him staring at me with a somewhat smug look on his face. The mental barriers in his head were firmly in place, keeping me out, which was probably a very smart thing for him to be doing right now, or I would've been screaming into his mind at the top of my lungs.

Coward, I thought. Betrayer.

I wondered if I had ever known him at all. It was as if my entire world had all been a lie, and suddenly I didn't know what my place in it was. My fate rested precariously upon the whims of others, and I was being played as a pawn in a war that was occurring between father and son.

I hated it. It was cruel.

Vance turned his gaze away to look out the window as we rushed toward Little Rock, heading to the airport there to catch a flight to areas unknown. Damien was revealing things in bits and pieces as we went along.

When we were ushered out of the cavern, we discovered we were being held on a gigantic estate that was situated in the middle of nowhere. It had been a previous holding of Damien's before his death, and, as it was the most conveniently located place next to Louisiana, he had brought us there after our capture.

The cave was natural to the estate, and Damien actually had the dwelling built above it, improving it to be a natural ritual area for the practice of his magic. It boggled the mind how many residences this guy had.

Ironically, he hadn't been using any of the money my dad had helped to transfer to Vance. Apparently a crafty demon like Damien was fluent in dealing with off shore bank accounts. He had untapped funds we hadn't even been aware of. The guy was truly loaded.

My attention drifted over him as he shifted from his seat onto mine, moving to where a stocked mini-bar was in the vehicle. He opened a decanter, full of blood, of course, and poured himself a glass.

"Would you care for a drink?" he gestured toward Vance, and Vance nodded, sliding down to take the offered refreshment from Damien's outstretched hand.

Damien then poured himself another drink before closing the bar and moving back to where he'd been seated. He caught me staring at him and chuckled.

"How rude of me! Did you want a glass of blood too, Portia?" he asked, and I shot a look of daggers at him before glancing to Vance who was staring at me with slightly piqued interest.

That didn't help me at all, because suddenly I could remember the taste of him in my mouth, and I felt my skin flush in response to that thought. My taste buds flooded with saliva, and I swallowed hard, forcing myself to turn away and stare out the window.

Damien laughed loud at this. "I can see you definitely prefer a particular vintage, don't you?" I ignored him completely, even as my heart hammered in my chest. "I don't blame you at all, my dear. Vance has the best blood I've ever tasted in my life. It's easy to see why you would want more of it."