Blood and magic, p.1
Blood and Magic, page 1
Blood and Magic contains descriptions of violence, a great deal of foul language, and mentions of abuse and trafficking.
Blood and Magic
Lauren Dane
This one is for the readers
who’ve loved Rowan from the start
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
“Well, look at you, then,” Clive said as he entered the room and caught sight of Rowan sitting with his assistant, Alice. He’d known she was in the building. Had been drawn to that energy she carried, magic that was uniquely hers. Spoken in a language somehow uniquely Clive’s. Discovering the way his wife seemed to exist on a frequency tailor-made for him—dissonance and all—had been a delight.
They shared a physical and emotional bond that had settled between them like a deeply comforting weight. Nearness registered, but even when he’d been in a totally different state, he’d felt her...essence. He’d known she was alive and well, and a few terrifying times he’d known she was injured or in pain.
Clive Stewart, Scion of North America, an ancient, powerful Vampire who’d see five centuries before too much longer, was used to being in charge. Accustomed to the mantle of leadership. Comfortable with the responsibility, though certainly intelligent enough to have moments when he understood he faced a challenge.
In his life, he’d trained to be a Scion, stumbled, rose up and ascended to rule an entire continent of Vampires used to the half-hearted leadership of the robber baron who’d ruled before Clive. He did not clear his movements or direction with anyone other than the First and his Five. Though he certainly never forgot that every choice he made would echo outward and potentially impact those Vampires and humans he was responsible to lead and protect.
The being he gazed at, long and lithe, her deep red hair pulled back in a braid that reached her waist, her gaze constantly roving as she assessed threats without conscious thought, changed the Vampire he’d been before.
She made him painfully aware he couldn’t control everything that mattered most. It was lowering and yet, in some integral way, it had lifted him up because though he couldn’t protect her from everything, he did his very best to be as worthy as possible. For her.
Rowan was a queen. A goddess in a very real sense. A treasure beyond compare.
His.
Currently, her rather disarming mouth was arranged in a smirk that had a hint of a smile in it. “Evening, Scion. I’m here to question some witches. Maybe even a shifter.”
“Why don’t you settle in your office?” Alice suggested to Clive. “I’ll bring in tea shortly and you two can update one another in private.”
Rowan rose, leaning slightly on a cane of some sort. When he’d gone to daytime rest, she’d been using crutches.
Once inside his office, he asked quietly, “What did Dr. Jenkins say exactly?”
Just a few days before, during a very public ambush, Rowan had been at a traffic light when she’d been crashed into by three cars full of wolf shifters who’d then unloaded multiple weapons’ worth of ammunition resulting in fourteen gunshot wounds and multiple broken bones. Witches, specifically the Procella family, had been behind the attack and Rowan was in the process of closing that case with all responsible parties arrested.
Which was a great deal to heal from in and of itself. But to top it off, one of the witches responsible for the ambush had attempted to kill Rowan via magic less than twenty-four hours prior. Also in public. In the presence of a chaos demigod and one of the most powerful witches on the planet. And thanks to the goddess inside his wife and the aforementioned witch and demigod, Clive’s wife had lived.
It took a complicated situation and amplified it, involving one rather large and sticky mess of Vampiric and magical goings-on, and Rowan bore the weight of it all.
Most would have broken under the pressure long ago. But Rowan wasn’t most, and she’d taken her pain and rage and spite and forged it into the sort of will and perseverance her enemies couldn’t begin to fathom.
She’d been on their trail, pulling together all the pieces of this complicated mess. The closer she got to figuring it all out, the sharper her energy would get as she focused hot enough to start a fire. Watching her work endlessly fascinated and excited him.
And, poking at her to take care of herself was a delight for them both.
“Dr. Jenkins declared my broken leg healed as fuck. Okay, not that last part verbatim, but the story ends the same. Sort of the same,” she amended when he gave her a bland look. “It’s not back to one hundred percent. I’m free of the cast as you can see. There’s like a brace thing I’m to wear, especially while I’m sleeping for the next week or two. The worst part was a three-month moratorium on kicking with that leg. That’s my dominant kicking leg.”
She looked so aggrieved he wanted to laugh.
“I’ll have to content myself with using this cane as an extension of my body. I was getting good with the crutch as a weapon so I figure I can use those basic principles. Bonus, there’s a blade tucked into the handle. Star just pranced right into Dr. Jenkins’s office and dropped it at my feet like she worked there.”
He gave the hand-carved walking aid a look and nodded his approval. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less of your dog.”
Rowan’s magic-dog-slash-familiar had a way of just showing up whenever she was needed. Given the utter violent chaos that was Rowan’s life and her job, Clive supported any strong proponent in Rowan’s corner, and Star was certainly entertaining to have in the household.
“Then I’m doubly impressed. And pleased you’re free of the more constricting cast.” After the most recent attack on her the night before, he’d been concerned there’d be a setback.
She sniffed, pretending to be indignant, and then ruined it by snorting. “Dr. Jenkins got a little miffed she couldn’t write a paper about my super healing in some journal on account of me not being human and all. I’m not sure if I should be offended or not, but she cheered up after reminding me I’m prone to injury and need a local doctor, so she’d see me soon enough.”
“Well, let’s keep all your bones unbroken from today forward. It can be a life goal.” He added a wink to rile her a little.
She groaned. “You act as if I love getting nearly killed on a regular basis. I do not. It hurts. Usually, I have a bunch of Vampire blood poured down my throat, which as you know isn’t my favorite.”
“On the plus side of the column though, all that ancient Vampire blood now coursing through your veins has made you so strong you’re here in my office flirting with me after being shot not even a week ago. Broken bones nearly healed up. Four days ago, you could barely stay conscious. Today you’ve got that murderous gleam back in your eye.” He did so enjoy it when she was murderous toward others.
She harrumphed.
“It’s rather fetching, darling, and it gives you another weapon no one will see coming.” Clive took her free hand and kissed her knuckles. Her smile in response was indulgent and affectionate.
Which lasted a few breaths until her scowl returned. “Okay that was a good point. I’ve had a dozen meetings today. So many people talked to me, and I had to be nice to nearly all of them.”
“I know how much you hate that,” he said with a bland expression.
She flipped him off and continued. “I approved a lot of money to be spent and nearly all of it was about witches and Vampires. As usual, wasting resources better put to use elsewhere. Since your self-titled Vampire lords decided to threaten—on Vampire Nation letterhead—to execute Hunters, we’ve had to raise our security protocols. That’s very expensive. I’m billing the Nation for it.”
“Naturally,” he said. Normally, he’d argue. The Nation wasn’t responsible for Hunter Corp.’s expenditures. Normally. In this case, the First had allowed six Vampires to be included in a process they had no business being involved with. From the start they’d set about to agitate, threaten, and degrade Hunter Corp. and Rowan specifically. At the start, Rowan had accepted it as Vampiric posturing. But because these fools were not fit for diplomatic communication, emboldened by their access, these lords went too far and that had blown up in everyone’s face. The Nation owed more than money to repair this egregious mess. But money was a start.
They paused as Alice brought the tea in. Once she’d gone, they returned to the conversation.
“And because no one can act right, I had to also handle a bunch of witch stuff in the wake of that business with Hugo last night. The Conclave is having meetings about it so I’m expecting to hear more soon. Genevieve’s office sent over footage of the interview with Bess Procella.”
The mother of their as-of-last-night captive, Hugo Procella, had been on the other side of the planet.
“What is your impression?” Clive knew she chafed at not being able to do the interview in person, but she couldn’t do everything. That and she’d been recovering from multiple attempts on her life.
“Why are you frowning so hard?” Rowan demanded.
“I find it agitating when the second attempt on your life in less than a week is referred to as that business.”
* * *
Rowan consistently found herself touched and absolutely silly when he got this way in defense of her. No one else was this to her. Accepting of who she was and all the blood and magic that came with it.
“I’m good. I have a super-cool pain stick.” She held her cane up. “It’s got good energy. A little wild though. So there’s that.”
She was probably going to hell for how amused it left her when he eyed it warily.
“One does love a pain stick. My apologies. I was ruminating for a moment on the madcap series of events over the last three years. But you’re here and I’m here. Tell me what you think of Bess.”
“Granted, I don’t have a lot of experience with mothers, but she comes off frosty and aloof. She’s hiding something. Look, they straight up told her the Conclave and Hunter Corp. had her entire family in custody for all sorts of fuckwittery. Except for her husband, who’s decided to run from the Conclave. Anyway, so she barely had any questions about the rest of the Procellas. She was irritated we’d pulled her off her swanky vacation. I’d like to think I’d demand some answers when confronted with such information. Even if she had to fake it a little. But none of that family make any sense. So maybe it’s just who they are. As one bitch to another, her reactions didn’t ring genuine to me. I get Antonia’s bitchery. She’s out here watching hours of those movies that make you cry. Practicing her big eyes and wobbly lip. Her brother is a homicidal stalker. They might get it from mom and none of them experience feelings.”
Rowan was already pissed the Procellas had been given a demand for the location of their family members in the wake of a host of crimes they’d all been committing. There’d been a delay of multiple days until they’d finally discovered Hugo and Antonia’s mother had been on a luxury cruise. Once Rowan had her location, they’d arranged to grab Bess at the next port. All the Procellas had managed to do was make her angry. Which wouldn’t work out well for them.
“So that was my daylight. I’m sure it’s not obvious as I’m a model of grace and dignity, but I’m extra salty and in the mood to ruin the day of some asshole witches. Because of said grace and dignity, I waited until after sunset as they’re here and I simply didn’t want any more Vampire tears that I’d spoken to my own prisoners while you were all at rest.”
Clive’s attempt at being bland broke and he laughed. Ugh, he was so damned sexy.
“As always, the Vampire Nation is indebted to you for your professionalism. As I am continually learning things from your...methods, I’ll accompany you.”
Rowan shook her head. He’d been murderous for hours after she’d been attacked in the early hours of that day. He still had that gleam in his eye even if he pretended he was oh so suave.
“You’ll scare him too much and then Konrad—he’s on the way here now to conduct the interview with me—will have to intervene. That shit will be like candy for a narcissist like Hugo. No, let’s deny him everything we possibly can. That’s how we chip away at his reserve. That’s how we get answers. He’s got to be devastated first. We’ll get that started. Genevieve’s about ten minutes behind her father, so have her brought directly in so she can watch in your control room with you. She’ll be in on the chat with Sergio, but there’s no reason to give Hugo what he wants.” Or expose Genevieve to him. Hugo had stalked and terrorized Genevieve. It was a traumatizing thing to have someone that obsessed with you. Rowan could protect her friend a little in this situation and that’s what she planned to do.
They finished their tea right as Konrad arrived.
Chapter Two
“I’ll have Konrad brought directly to the interview room. We’ll go together and meet him,” Clive said, inviting himself along.
The elevator opened and they headed through the various levels of security together.
Before they arrived at their destination, he pulled her to the side, backing her into a doorway for privacy. “Stop flirting with me,” she said, totally not meaning it.
A whisper of a smile skittered over his mouth. “I don’t trust these witches. Be careful. Kill them before they can kill you. Are we clear?” Stepping back, he gave her a severe British reproof and all her sex parts went warm and a little soft. Except for her nipples.
Still. Bossy. “Easy there, Scion. I can’t handle another thing on my plate at the moment. We both know if I go killing any Procella there’ll be so much political bullshit I’ll drown. At this stage anyway. There’s always tomorrow.” Rowan gave him a bright smile. “I don’t trust Hugo either. But I do trust myself and my cane and all the strength in my general vicinity to handle this without execution. Unfortunately. If anyone needs to be wiped off the face of the planet, it’s a predator like Hugo.”
He straightened his cuffs and then shook his head at her. “It’s impossible to stay angry with you.”
She laughed hard at that one. “I don’t think anyone else who knows me would agree with that point. But I’m smitten enough with you I’ll let you get away with such blatant flattery.”
They moved through the next set of doors, and she caught sight of their guest.
Konrad tipped his chin slightly as he approached. The tall, broad-shouldered witch looked like a sexy, silver-haired architect or lawyer in his early sixties. He wore a smoke-gray three-piece suit with a black shirt open at the neck and walked like he was hot shit. Fair enough, as the warlock was a thousand years old and the magical equivalent of the king of witches worldwide.
He was also Genevieve’s father, so it was more than the murder attempts in full view of cameras, tourists, a sage, and a magical dog. More than using coercive magics against others in violation of Conclave law and the Treaty Rowan and the rest of Hunter Corp. were charged to enforce. It mattered that the object of Hugo’s obsession was Genevieve. All the crimes he’d committed were in some way motivated by that. Konrad Aubert was very motivated to be sure Hugo faced justice for what he’d done to her.
“The Procellas have formally asked for permission to have Felix present as we question Hugo,” Konrad told her.
Rowan thought that over. “Why not? I don’t know what he thinks he can do. He has very limited authority in this situation. I’m absolutely certain about the parameters of this entire arrest, which means I’ve already gone over every possible way he might try to get out of culpability.”
Konrad bowed slightly. “I’m certain you have. Whatever you decide, the Conclave will support it.”
Good to know. “I’ve got no real opposition to letting Felix sit in on our interview. But we’re starting in like,” she glanced up at the wall clock and then back to Konrad, “two minutes, so he’d better be here already or move his ass because I’m not waiting.”
It was going to take her a bit of time with the witches she had in custody to find all their fault lines and weak points. Then she’d know how to unravel them and get answers. While violence certainly had its uses, torture was ineffective. Mentally and emotionally breaking them? Well, that was very effective.
Spells could compel cooperation, but they needed to know what to ask before they compel someone to speak. There’d been multiple crimes and only some of them seemed connected. Rowan knew she and the others were only seeing a small part of the whole. There was more. The clues were all there, she just had to find them.
They looked toward the interview rooms where Hugo would be. “His type always gets high on entitlement. Gives them what they feel is permission to brag when an attorney is present. It’s an added bonus when the lawyer knows shit is going left and they try to get their client to shut up. Everyone starts to panic. The entitled ass can’t shut up, the lawyer is stretched thin attempting to manage a slow-motion car crash.”
