Page 16 of The Fang Arrangement (Celestial Witches #2)

I pull out of Warin’s memory, blinking wildly at him.

The memory felt so real. Like I could feel the humid summer air, like I could scent the blood of the men Warin killed before he was even a vampire.

I know my heart rate is up, that I’m doing a shit job of hiding my expression. I knew Warin was dangerous, but seeing what I saw shed him in a more complicated light. He did something wrong, but he also never knew what he was getting into, what being on night crew meant.

I reiterate in my mind he’s made a vow to never cause harm to me or those I care about.

“It is not a pretty story. Most of my existence isn’t. I’m not a good man.”

I take a deep breath, trying to really take in everything he showed me. He was greedy, proud, and he hurt people. But he was also young, naive, and hopeful.

“I meant what I said. I’d never hurt you, Ember.”

“What about other people?” I ask softly.

I believe that he won’t hurt me, even if he won’t tell me why, but I have to know what kind of man I’m dealing with.

He closes his eyes, his hands resting on his chest, almost like he can’t bear to face me. Why should he give a single shit about what I think of him?

“Those men that I killed. They would have killed me. There’s no doubt in my mind. It was kill or be killed in that situation.”

“And what about now?” I ask, a little too sharply.

“Who do you think I am? Do I seem like a blood thirsty monster to you?” he asks with a husky laugh. “I won’t deny that I’ve done wrong things, that I’ve been selfish and destructive, most of it never of my own will. But I don’t go around killing humans, that’s not my thing.”

I adjust how I’m sitting on the blanket, curiosity getting the best of me. I think back on the vampire that changed him in his memories and I wonder if Warin will be even more honest with me.

“Oz was like what you are to Samantha?” I ask and he hums. He still hasn’t opened his eyes to look at me.

“Yes, he was my sire. He was very possessive of me in that regard. Even when he released me from the sire bond, he was always near, always wanting some control over my life.”

I clear my throat. “Were you lovers?” I ask.

That has him cracking his eye open to glare at me. “No, probably to Oz’s chagrin.”

“You can’t just blame another person, though, for doing bad things.”

“I know that. He’s just a part of it. But he’s dead now and there’s no excuse.”

“He’s dead?” I ask, lightly rubbing my throat. Did Warin kill him?

“Don’t worry, sunshine, I didn’t kill him. Pretty sure our little slayer friend did, didn’t leave much behind either. That’s why I’m taking this all so seriously. Oz was centuries old, strong, and one slippery motherfucker.”

Since he’s in such an honest mood, I ask the question that I know is wholly inappropriate.

“Are you glad he’s dead?”

Warin sits up quickly, his hand on his jaw.

“Yes.”

“He was that horrible?”

“He kept me away from what I wanted most.” He stands, holding out a gloved hand, almost like some sort of trauma dump olive branch. “I think that’s enough for tonight. We can practice more tomorrow.”

I take his hand, mostly because I’m not sure what else to do. He tugs me to my feet, grabbing my blanket and folding it at a light speed as we walk into his mansion.

“Will you be hunting the Slayer tonight?”

“Yes. I know you don’t trust me, Ember Hallow, and I don’t blame you. I know that my past is irredeemable, but I’m hoping that perhaps you would consider gifting me with some of that delicious kindness you hand out to other pathetic creatures. I was quite hoping you’d like to be my friend.”

I pause our trek to the house. Lighting bugs glitter the sky and frogs bellow as I stare at the vampire before me.

“Warin, I literally just watched you kill someone in your memories,” I say plainly.

“Yes, but that was a hundred years ago,” he says, like that makes so much sense in his mind.

I suppose that makes sense, for him it feels like multiple lifetimes ago. I rub the bridge of my nose. He was honest, he did what I asked, I can give him some leeway too.

“What does being friends mean to you?”

“Well…we would hang out. We would talk to each other. I don’t know, do stuff,” he says, like he’s making it up as he speaks.

“Do stuff?” I repeat.

Warin holds his hands up in the air, exacerbated. “Yes, like go places and talk or laugh.”

“Go where, Warin? A day trip to get beignets and a cup of coffee?” I say it, and it feels rude even as I do, guilt churning as the words slip out of me.

“Is that what it would take?”

My brows furrow as I stare at him. “That was rude?—”

“No. If being your friend means being able to take you out during the day then I’ll work on it,” he says with a smirk.

I place a hand on my hip. “Warin, you’re a vampire.”

“Yes. A very rich one,” he replies, placing his hand on my shoulder.

The touch sends a tingle down my spine, and it’s impossible to ignore.

“But you are a witch. Which means you need around six to eight hours of sleep a night. I wouldn’t be against you going nocturnal, but as it stands, you need your rest and I have a slayer to track down.”

“Uh, okay?”

He walks me all the way to my room, not entering the doorway.

“Have a wonderful night, Ember. I’ll work on our friendship date,” he says, not allowing me to answer as he shuts the door.

I blink at the wood, before gripping the handle and swinging the door open, but of course, he’s long gone.

“What the actual fuck?” I whisper to myself as I turn around in the room.

Gus is eating popcorn, nodding his small head.

“I say the same thing every time you go off and do something stupid. What did you do now?” he asks.

“I think I just agreed to be friends with a vampire.”

“At least he has good snacks.”

I walk over to him and touch his forehead, which he swats away. “Oh my gods, Gus. Did they Stockholm Syndrome you with food alone?”

“The chef made this popcorn on the stove, Ember. Then she poured Isigny Ste Mère butter on top. It’s honestly about time I started being treated like a king. Plus, not a single fairy in sight. These vampires are deathly quiet.” He laughs maniacally for a moment at his own joke.

His laughter quickly ends as I grab a fistful of popcorn and shove it in my mouth.

“Oh, this is really good,” I mumble as I swallow, grabbing another fistful.

“Get your own, witch. And go suck up to that vampire so I can have a rich step daddy.”

“Gus,” I chastise. “You hated him. You told me how stupid I was for letting him in the house, how we were all going to die.”

“I’m a confident enough familiar to admit when I was wrong. I was wrong. This is the life,” he sighs, relaxing more into his chaise as he lounges deeper into the chair.

I consider telling him what I saw in Warin’s memories, but something stops me. It was a private moment, one filled with insecurity, and Warin showed it to me. Telling Gus would be an invasion of that trust and I just can’t do it.

Could I truly be friends with Warin? Could I truly trust him to be honest with me?

I think back on all my interactions with him. He’s been rude and demanding, sure. But he’s never been pointlessly cruel. He’s never tried to harm me. Manipulate me, sure. But something tells me that the reason Warin manipulates people is because he thinks he knows best.

No matter how much good he’s done, though, I think back to the memory and how he took both men’s lives. I do think he believes he was in a do or die moment, but it still gives me pause.

Even if I’m drawn to him, I need to be smart about this. If he wants to be friends, he needs to earn it, with actions and being truthful.

The house is extremely quiet during the daytime. The only sounds are when Gus is eating or when I go down to the kitchen.

I realize then that I’m almost aching for it to be nighttime, so I have someone to talk to. Which is embarrassing.

I’m almost missing the fairies bitching and complaining about every single thing. It makes me wonder if I’m incapable of being alone or if I’m just endlessly lonely?

How could I be lonely when I’m surrounded by an ornery raccoon, catty fairies, or my amazing friends?

I tap my fingernails against the countertop, hating the realization, not understanding what it means about me. I have everything that a witch could ask for, yet I don’t feel fulfilled.

With frustration, I wipe a rogue, unwanted tear from my face.

“Are you alright?” A voice startles me and I nearly jump out of the stool.

These sneaky fucking vampires need to learn to make sound when they pop out of nowhere. I was hopeful that it was Warin, but his voice isn’t anywhere near as rich.

When I turn, Conner is standing there. There are no windows in the kitchen, and even if they were, Conner already told me that they don’t let any UV light in. It’s nearly sunset, but I’m pretty sure if he were to go outside right now he would burst into flame or something else extremely graphic.

“I’m fine. It’s a bit early for you to be up, isn’t it?” I question him.

Cecile is back in the guest house and it’s just the two of us, which makes me slightly uncomfortable.

“Younger vampires need less rest. We aren’t on the verge of losing our minds like the ancient ones,” he says it like a joke, but there seems to be some malice in it.

“You think Warin has lost his mind?” I ask.

“Keeping a witch inside his home surrounded by vampires, I’d say so,” he says, coming to sit next to me. I scooch away from him, not wanting to be too close. It’s night and day to how I felt last night when Warin was in the same seat.

Conner’s words have me on edge, and I’m not sure why.

“Why would that make him crazy?”

Conner’s green eyes glance down to my throat and I swallow. Quickly holding up my left hand, I showcase the ring I never bothered to hide since I’ve been at the mansion.

“I have protection,” I say. It’s a stupid and arrogant thing to do.

“Magical blood is the most wanted on the market, you know?” he says, hand quickly grabbing my own. Too fast for me to even think as his cold fingers pull the ring off my own.

He holds it between two fingers, holding it up in the air.

“Looks like your cute little protection spell doesn’t help if a vampire physically takes it off.”

My hand is wrapped firmly around my wand, and I try to remember everything I’ve been studying in the new grimoire. I think about last night, how I infiltrated Warin’s memories and how I need to use similar magic to slip into this vampire’s mind and subdue him.

“I’m under Warin’s protection.”

Conner rolls his eyes. “He isn’t half the vampire Oz was. We’ve all gone soft since he took over the parishes. I was supposed to be moving up the ranks, not doing grunt work, driving witches back to their fucking cottages.”

I have no clue if Warin is home, awake, or how deeply vampires sleep. All I know is that I need his help to handle this situation right now.

“You’re making a mistake.”

“It’s alright, I’ll treat you nice. I mean, I will have you locked up and drain you as much as I can daily to keep you alive, but by that point, you’ll be so delirious you won’t feel a thing.”

Conner looks down at my neck. I’m sure my pulse is throbbing.

“Don’t worry, little witch, it won’t hurt…much.”

“Warin!” I shout his name and Conner tsks.

“He’s been starving himself. He won’t wake until the sun sets. He isn’t strong enough to fight me and neither are you,” he whispers, a sinister grin spreading across his face.

Alright, Ember, it’s do or fucking die.

I pull out my wand as quickly as I can and focus, pouring every ounce of energy I can into the spell. I slip into his mind, a jumbled mess of memories, as I finally find what I need, sending the high-pitched signal right into his mind.

He grabs his head, crashing to the floor, as I run as quickly as I can.

Right into my sleeping captor’s bedroom.