Page 60

The blood restored my strength. It did absolutely nothing about the magic tearing me apart.

“I’m going to the coven house,” I said.

Every conversation in the bar stopped.

“No,” Mack said.

“I wasn’t asking permission.”

“You can barely stand.”

“I only need to stand long enough to beg.”

Mack stared at me, his jaw tight. “You’re not walking there.”

“I’m still going.”

“Those are two different arguments.” He snatched his keys from the bar. “Come on.”

Mack drove me across town while I tried not to bleed on the leather seats. He parked in front of the coven house but made no move to get out.

“If you aren’t back in twenty minutes, I’m coming inside.”

“Against a house full of witches?”

“I didn’t say it was a good plan.”

“No. But it is very on-brand.”

Getting out of the SUV took more effort than I wanted him to see. By the time I reached the steps, my legs were trembling again. The coven’s wards hummed against my skin, probing every weakness and finding plenty to criticize.

I climbed anyway.

At the top, I knocked and waited.

The young witch who answered looked at me with pity. “She knows you’re here. She said if you’re here to beg, you may come in. Anything else, leave.”

“I’m here to beg,” I said quietly.

The parlor matched the house’s forbidding exterior. It was elegant, expensive, designed to intimidate. Jacqueline sat by the fire, tea in hand, her expression unreadable.

“Mr. Richards,” she said, not looking up. “How does it feel?”

“How does what feel?”

“Being whole again. Even briefly.” She met my eyes, vicious satisfaction in her smile. “Did you enjoy it? Walking without stumbling? Feeling like a real vampire?”

I said nothing. She knew the answer.

“I gave you that,” she continued. “Not intentionally, of course. Your attempted ritual with my daughter nearly broke the curse. Ancient magic, a true-mate bond, all very romantic.” She set her tea aside. “But I took it back. And I made sure you’d never forget what you lost.”

“Why?” The word escaped. “Why not just let us go? The curse was already weakening. We were happy. What harm were we doing?”

“You were defying me.” Her voice dropped, cold and sharp. “You proved my magic could be undone, my will ignored, my daughter could choose a vampire over her own mother. That is unacceptable.”

She stood, moving toward me with fluid grace. “Respect is everything, Mr. Richards. And you have never shown me any.”

“I’m not demanding anything,” I said, my voice rough. “I’m asking. Begging. For Carolina. Not for me.”