Page 26

Chapter 26

I told Voltaire about the black Coven. I told him about Becky and Hilary, though I didn’t tell him about Ria as she wasn’t currently a practising black witch. If he knew she ever had been, he would watch her like a hawk and one day she wouldn’t come home again. As such, I’d phrased my oath very carefully.

Finally, I told him about my father – as much as I knew, anyway. After all, I didn’t care if he didn’t make it home one day.

‘Have you checked your birth certificate?’ Voltaire asked tightly.

‘The section on her father has been expunged,’ Bastion confirmed.

I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t known that Bastion had done some digging of his own. Why hadn’t that occurred to me? I was running on empty, I guess. ‘His name was Shaun. That’s all I know,’ I said.

‘Appearance?’

‘He had blond hair and green eyes like mine. Apart from that, it’s hazy.’

‘Photos?’

I shook my head. ‘My mum burned them all when he left us.’ I hesitated, but in the spirit of sharing… ‘Mum had my mind cleared when he left. That’s why I don’t remember more.’

‘You could get the clearing broken,’ Voltaire pointed out.

‘No,’ Bastion said instantly. ‘It would be agonising. It’s been in position for too long.’

I touched Bastion’s arm lightly. ‘It’s an option,’ I said to Voltaire. ‘One I’m exploring. What have you got?’

Voltaire pursed his lips before he began. ‘We have long suspected the black Coven’s existence. In the last decade or so, we have seen more evidence of collusion amongst black witches. They are organised, they’ve been working towards a goal.’

‘What goal?’

He grimaced. ‘If we knew that, it would be a lot easier. Power, certainly.’

‘We know someone was posing as Felix Holloway on the Coven Council,’ Bastion pointed out.

‘Indeed. And they orchestrated the Crone’s death.’ My voice was as emotionless as I could make it.

Voltaire cleared his throat. ‘Abigay Morgan was a woman of indomitable strength and presence. I was … saddened to hear of her passing.’

That made me blink. I wasn’t sure Voltaire even knew what sadness was. Did the vampyr have a heart somewhere? Surely not. ‘Thank you,’ I said, acknowledging the effort he was making for us to work together smoothly.

He nodded once. ‘Have you heard of the “soul auction”?’

Bastion nodded as I reluctantly shook my head. I despised admitting ignorance but now wasn’t the time for pride.

‘It is a secret auction of dark artefacts. It is held as and when the artefacts are found. The rumour is that such an auction will be held soon and that a large harkan crystal is on offer.’

My stomach lurched. Now the harkan crystal, I had heard of. Supposedly it was made by collecting one drop of blood at a time from a murder victim then crystallising the drops through magic. The bigger the crystal, the more deaths were required to make it and the greater the power it held. It could be added to over time because more deaths increased its power. Rumour had it that the owner of a harkan crystal never needed recharge in the Common realm.

‘Have you been watching the portals to the Common realm?’ I asked. ‘Is there a witch that doesn’t use them?’

Voltaire gave me a distinctly unfriendly look. ‘Your ORAL potion has muddied the waters. There are a number of witches that have not attended for some time. Including you.’

I glared at the inference. ‘I’m going through the portal after this discussion.’

‘No doubt you would claim that.’

‘Because it is true!’ I rubbed my forehead. ‘Enough. When will this so-called “soul auction” take place?’

‘It is not simply a matter of finding out when it is occurring,’ Voltaire grumbled. ‘To gain entrance, you must recently have taken a life.’

I thought of my half-sister, Becky, and the unknown fire elemental before that. ‘How recently?’

‘Within a few months.’

‘That won’t be a problem,’ I said. Bastion had ripped off a bunch of vampyric heads so he’d be fine to gain entrance too, though I thought it diplomatic not to explain that to Voltaire. ‘You find out when and where the auction is and Bastion and I will attend as purchasers.’

Voltaire looked at Bastion. ‘He is well known and it is common knowledge that he guards you. If he attends, your identity will be known instantly.’

My flat look told him he was being patronising. ‘We will be disguised, obviously.’

‘Common sense is not so common.’ His mouth tightened but he didn’t argue. ‘On your heads be it.’

I blinked. ‘Did you just quote actual Voltaire at me?’

For the first time that I could recall, I saw a glimmer of humour in the depths of his eyes. ‘Are you so sure I’m not the actual Voltaire?’

I opened my mouth then closed it again. He didn’t look like a seventeenth-century philosopher, but vampyrs could age themselves as they wished. I slid a glance to Bastion who grinned and shook his head. ‘He’s shitting you.’

‘Am I?’ Voltaire asked, amused. ‘I will send word. When you are summoned, do not hesitate or the opportunity will be lost forever.’ He spun on his heels and stalked out.

Someone knew how to make a dramatic exit.