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Chapter ten

Aidan took in Rae’s workshop as she began to stir on the floor where he’d deposited her.

Tools neatly placed on racks and benches with wooden pins and deerskins hanging underneath.

Sketches hung on the walls alongside pictures of Rae and an older man in a few tattered frames, beside newer, unframed snaps of her and the young Witch Aidan knew she worked with.

A patchwork of Rae’s life, and her hair and eyes were different in every single photo.

He lit the joint he’d rolled earlier to mask the scent of Rae’s blood, the small wounds she’d received when the Horn had knocked her into the pavement now crusted over.

One thought from Aidan and the Fae had peeled himself off her and slammed his head into the nearest wall, over and over until he was dead.

Aidan had already been leaving with Rae in his arms at that point.

Even unconscious, she had strong mental shields in place, and though he suspected it might be the jewellery she wore: bangles at her wrists, layers of necklaces, a silver clip over the bridge of her nose, he respected the effort she’d gone to.

Most humans threw themselves at Vampires, and the ones that didn’t, the ones that usually signed themselves up to one of the factions, never bothered to shield themselves despite knowing what they were up against.

If he’d gone sifting through her mind when she was out cold, there was a small chance she wouldn’t wake up. And despite whatever rumours may have been spread about him, Aidan never took a life without reason. Despite everything, he was tired of so much bloodshed.

She shifted somewhere on the floor behind him, and he took another long drag of his joint to cover the scent drifting from her.

“Bastard Horns,” Rae grumbled.

He let his Provident senses reach out to her, press at the walls of her mind. Solid.

“Stay the fuck out of my head, Vampire.” She was on her feet with a groan, snatching the joint from his fingertips before taking a deep toke. “You were following me? That seems a little weird, even for you.”

Aidan chuckled dryly. “You’re welcome.” He held her gaze as his fingers wrapped around hers, prising the joint from her hand. This close, the scent of her blood was almost too strong to take. He should have fed before he left the manor.

She held firm for a moment, assessing him before releasing her hold.

She’d swiped her pale pink hair over one shoulder, exposing the column of her throat like she was fucking baiting him, but the shadow of the rope marks at her wrists still lingered, and he wouldn’t give in to whatever bullshit game the human wanted to play.

He took a step away, continuing his observation of the workshop to put some space between them.

The room was tidy, products out of sight in lock boxes, he assumed, but the sketches and photos on the walls were plenty to go by.

Lia’s request turned over in his thoughts.

Of what he needed from Rae; if she truly wanted what she said she’d needed from him.

“What are you?” A jeweller. A thief. Her business was successful, her finances solid; she had no reason to steal that Aidan could see.

“Multi-talented.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the way she pressed a hand to her wounded head, words murmured under her breath. “I can see that. You know an awful lot of magic for a human. Are the markets improving that much?” He knew the answer; he wanted to hear it from her.

Rae ran a hand through her hair, and it changed from pink to pale turquoise, soft waves lengthening and falling to her waist. “That asshole ripped my shirt.” She glanced over her shoulder to where the Horn had torn the blue fabric as he’d slammed her into the pavement, then held out her hand for what remained of Aidan’s joint.

“He taught me everything I know.” She jerked her chin at one of the pictures of her and the old man, blowing her smoke out across the picture until the faces were lost to it.

The smallest hint of regret curled in the smoke, but it was gone almost as quickly as it came.

The human took the end of the joint to the sink and ran it under the tap for a moment before chucking it into a bin under one of the workbenches.

“Let’s hear it then.” She leaned back against the table, eyes the same colour as her hair, and he didn’t feel an inch of fear from her, only the way she let the weed wash over her, relax her, but then—there—a hint of adrenaline, though she pushed it down, folded it in and tucked it away so that he’d have to pry deeper to find it.

Aidan hated to admit it, but she had a better hold on her magic than most of the Gerentis he had to deal with.

Which either made her an excellent student or a Witch.

He slid his PAD from his back pocket and handed it to her, keeping his distance so that he didn’t have to get too close to her scent again.

She hummed as she swiped through the images. “No wonder Zeke wanted out.” Rae tossed the PAD back to him. “You weren’t tested, if you were wondering. Apparently, Vampire Lords are later on the roster.”

That was something, at least. Bringing together a piece of every Vampire house was disaster enough without throwing his half-breed blood into the mix. “I destroyed the remaining vials.”

“So I heard.”

Aidan mirrored her stance against the bench opposite and slid his hands into his pockets.

She’d pulled back whatever spell she’d been using on her skin and light scars peppered her exposed legs in shorts similar to the ones she’d worn the night before, her feet in solid boots.

Both practical choices, he assumed, that still made her look good enough to pickpocket unnoticed, appealing enough to distract her mark. She didn’t need it.

He considered his options. Hated that he was desperate. “We never shook on our deal.”

“Don’t need to. I know you’re good for it. I’d be dead already if you weren’t.”

True. Which meant she felt like she had the control in this situation, and that didn’t sit well with Aidan. What he was about to propose didn’t sit well with him, either, but at least it meant he could keep a close eye on her. “Are you familiar with the term Odalik?”

Rae scoffed. “You heard what I said, Vampire. I’m no one’s pet.”

He didn’t doubt that for a moment. “You and I know that, but you said you needed me to get places.” He flicked his chin at the window, gesturing to the city beyond them.

“No one else needs to know that.” She said nothing, watching him, waiting.

“You know the term. Do you know the history of how Odaliks came to be?”

“A little.”

“Vampires rarely mate. Not nearly as frequently as Fae. Odaliks are revered among my kind.” A mate was a death sentence for a Vampire.

A secret so well guarded, a bargaining chip so powerful, none would dare to reveal the truth of such a union anyway.

Odaliks were no secret, but they were protected.

Though that wasn’t entirely the truth. The Lord’s Odalik would always be a target, regardless of what tradition dictated, but Aidan didn’t see the need to tell her that.

“Imitation is the greatest form of flattery,” Rae all but sneered.

Anger flared from her, thick and hot, but she pulled it back just as quickly as he’d felt it.

A moment of hesitation, and then, “So this is what you have to offer me? For me to become your doting wife whilst I search for your missing magic? As proposals go, Vale, it’s subpar at best.”

She was silent then, considering, and he knew he was losing her interest. That was something he couldn’t risk.

“I can have some of this moved,” he added, flicking a chin at the wall of tools, hoping it would sweeten the deal.

She was watching him carefully, and he could almost feel the speed of her thoughts, tiny flickers of feeling trickling through as if she were working through her options.

Tempting as it was to press, to let his Provident powers loose, he didn’t.

He needed her mind whole, needed her sharp.

Needed her to trust him, as much as it loathed him to acknowledge it.

“You really want your magic back, don’t you?” she asked him.

“If you’d ever lost any, you wouldn’t be asking that question.” It wasn’t a case of want. It was a need. If he was going to be able to follow through on his plans, if there was a possibility of putting an end to the testing, he’d need his power returned to him. For his sanity, he needed it.

Bangles jingled on Rae’s wrist as she moved across the workshop, pulling a glass from a cupboard and filling it at the tap. The movement revealed the cuff sat around her bicep, and Aidan’s brow furrowed as he focused on it.

In three strides he was beside her, fingers closed around the silver, the magic slithering over his skin. Not a Witch. “Which faction?”

She shook out of his grip, pulled a pointed file from the bench beside her, and spun it in her hand, the tip pressing against his throat. “I’m happy to go down trying, Vampire. Are you?”

Aidan laughed. A true laugh, because he didn’t doubt her for a heartbeat, the conviction rolling from her in waves.

Of course she belonged to a faction. Her irritation for his kind was palpable, and when it came to faction members, the feeling was mutual.

“Aera?” From the old human word for flight, the group’s core desire was to elevate humans above the Orders, which was why he’d thought it might have been them behind the testing.

Rae scoffed. “Fuck no. Tripp’s as much of a hot-headed asshole as you are.”

Aidan glanced around the room again and took in the way Rae held the file like she might actually do some decent damage with it before he ripped her throat out. “Omnia.” Ready for anything . The smallest of the factions, and the one that had caused him the most headaches lately.

A sigh from Rae, but she didn’t loosen her grip on the file. “Busted.” Not a hint of remorse in her tone.