Page 103 of Blood as Sweet as Roses

All of the vampires and witches in the conference room turn toward me. Subtly, the lights in the hall all dim at the same time, which I’m sure is due to Amrita’s magical prowess and not the electric dimmers. I glare at the vampire-witch, furious that she’s putting me on the spot like this.

I dabble in witchcraft, yes, but not to the extent that Amrita does. And I have a very personal reason for disliking this type of magic. Every witch and vampire in this room knows the prophecy that was foretold about me. It’s how I got my title, the Crimson Stake, which I appreciate for instilling fear in the magical community and giving me the reputation that I’ve built my power around…

Butit also foretells my weakness, one that I don’t want to lend any credence to.

I’m in a tough position.

And ultimately, I have tolead with strength. I can’t be afraid of some whispered witch prophecy, especially if Oana is out there, using her magic to accumulate power. I have to play on the same level she is.

“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll help you summon…whatever you want to summon.”

“This isn’t a question for a particular Demon or Deity,” Amrita clarifies. Without explanation, she hops onto her chair, and then steps onto the circular oak table, using it like a raised, circular platform. Renata stares in horror at the witch’s bare feet on her recently-varnished table.

Amrita paces around the edge of the table, thinking.

“I don’t believe Morgan, Hecate or Lucifer would be able to answer what we’re asking. No, we need to call upon the fates themselves. And for that, we must all give something of ourselves.”

“Blood?” I ask, reaching for the dagger at my belt.

“No, something more precious,” Amrita replies. “Asecret, in exchange for the secrets we’re asking them to reveal.”

With a dramatic flourish, she pulls a wooden box from the wide sleeve of her violet robe. It’s about the size of a jewelry box, and engraved with complex runes.

“Wherewas she keeping that?” Lexi says.

“Whisper your secret into this box, and we’ll offer it up to the fates,” Amrita instructs, surveying the vampires and witches around the table. “There are plenty of us here, I’m sure the fates will accept that as a reasonable offering.”

“Whatsortof secrets?” Sabina asks, looking suspiciously at the box in Amrita’s hands.

“Something you’ve never revealed to anyone,” Amrita replies, putting on her hushed, High Priestess voice. “Something that nobody else could know. I’ll go first!”

Standing in the center of the oak table, she closes her eyes, then opens the box. Her lips quiver as she whispers something to it, her words so quiet even my vampiric hearing can’t make them out.

When she’s finished, she opens her eyes, and comes over to me.

“Now you go,” she says, passing the box down.

Again, I resent her for putting me on the spot. I’m not pleased about being forced to reveal a secret, even if it’s only to the fates.

But I can’t deny her here, in front of all of the other coven and clan leaders.

How can I come up with a secret? I’ve accumulated so many, over the centuries.

“It has to be worth the answer you’re asking for,” Amrita says. “Something equal in size.”

The words seem to come from the box itself, rather than from her lips. Suddenly, I notice that we’re no longer in the conference room. We’re still seated at the oak table, but now, we’re surrounded by the black, imposing night, stars twinkling overhead, a grassy field under our feet. I don’t know how that’s possible, and I don’t like it.

Trying to focus, I close my eyes, and reach back into myself.

What’s a big enough secret? One I’ve never revealed to anyone…

And now that I’ve quieted my mind, I can hear the throbbing ache in my chest, feel its agonizing pull.

The ache from this morning, when I left Paige alone in our suite. It never stopped.

Because I never stop thinking ofher. No matter how I try, she’s always on my mind. How she waits for me, always patient even when clan business takes most of the night. How her brown eyes shine so passionately when she’s speaking of something she cares about.

How her voice softens when she calls me her king.