Page 9 of Vampire Runner

“Despite my tone, your return is very welcome, Cassandra,” Ambrose says, his tone warmer than I’d ever heard before. “I agree that you must determine what Aeternaphiel did to Eris and how to fix it. You have the full support of the Nightshades behind you. Whatever you need for your research, you’ll have it. Josephine would allow no less.” He gives a sidelong glance at his mate, his lips curling up into a smirk. “Nor, would it seem, will my mate and queen.”

He looks at me, his golden eyes seeming to pierce through me and read every secret I have. He inclines his head towards Cassandra, indicating that I join her at her side. I stand closer than I ever did with Eris, but the gap between us isn’t missed by either the king or Eloise. While he gives no indication of his thoughts, Eloise frowns. She gives me a questioning look, tilting her head enough that the messy bun of her black hair threatens to topple and spill the few pencils she’s stuffed in there.

I give her the slightest shake of my head, not wanting to deal with it right now; she gives me a look that promises an interrogation later. We’ve come a long way since I first delivered her to Ambrose from the small studio she and Deidre once shared. Typically, I consider myself fortunate to count Eloise as a friend. Now, though, I’m wondering how I can avoid her as well as Cassandra.

“Do you need a workspace to determine what is draining you and Eris, or will her lab in the Rapture facility work?”

My head snaps to Cassandra. What the hell does that mean? She gives me a pained glance before clasping her hands together, bobbing her head as if between two thoughts. “I believe it will be if I have all the materials I may need. Josephine says she saved much of my tools from the cottage. Regardless, I will need to visit Darcelle at the coffee shop. If they don’t have the books and grimoires I need, I will simply have to do my best.”

“Are there any other covens that could help?” Eloise asks, earnest in her sincerity. “You’re a witch, so don’t you have a family coven?”

I jerk, fighting the instinct to wrap an arm around Cassandra at the mention of her family’s coven. Cassandra, to her credit, gives her a soft smile and a small shake of her head. “My family coven has burned me from the family tree. Long before I mated and married a vampire.”

“Oh.” Eloise’s mouth snaps closed and she shifts, clearly feeling awkward at bringing up unknown familial drama. “Well...”

I take pity on her and interrupt. “I’ll take Cassandra to Darcelle’s before my rendezvous with the Knights. The witch is fond of Eris, so I believe that they’ll be eager to help.”

Ambrose gives a commanding nod, a familiar dismissal. I grasp Cassandra above the elbow, keeping my touch light but insistent as I turn to guide us from the office. She follows after a brief resistance and the moment she does, I release her. We leave in silence, the house quiet enough that sounds of the Barrows filter in through the windows Josephine must have opened.

“Ashe—” Cassandra starts, her soft voice piercing my heart more painfully than any blade or bullet.

I swipe my hand through the air, cutting her off with a grunt. “Not here.” I have no desire for any of the others to overhear whatever it is Cassandra is going to say. I stride towards the door that leads to the underground garage. The Jaguar is out of commission after the chase with Aeternaphiel, so I debate which vehicle in my collection to take. While a large portion of the vehicles parked in the garage are a part of the Nightshades’ fleet, there are five I own personally.

As I push the heavy door open, the click of the door echoing in the silent concrete of the garage, I decide on my gold Mercedes-Benz GLC. I’ve reinforced the SUV’s frame, replaced the windows with the highest grade of bullet-proof glass, coated the interior of the body with polymer before lining it with three layers of ballistic nylon, and installed military grade tires. To be fair, I’ve done the same to every vehicle the Nightshade vampires use as a clan. Kasar, Malachi, and Lan have done their own personalizations to their vehicles, as has Ambrose.

I detour to the metal cabinets and shelves that run along the left side of the wall with the entrance. Motion-activated lights under the cabinets turn on and I press my thumb to the biometric scanner which secures the key vault. It’s impossible to ignore the weight of Cassandra’s silent present behind me, but I push past the warring emotions vying for my attention.

The metal mesh door to the key vault pops open and I snatch the appropriate key from the hook before relocking the vault. I jerk my head towards the gold SUV, remote starting it from the key fob. Cassandra startles, a small meep escaping her, and I turn to her before I can stop myself.

She looks chagrined and my heart is racing as I look for any threat, before realizing it was the SUV that startled her.

“Not used to this century’s technology,” she says, before seeming to steel herself to approach the SUV.

I snort, amused despite myself. “It’s a car, not a wild animal.”

Cassandra scowls at me before pointedly marching towards it, her spine rod straight. I smirk at her all-too familiar ire. The easiest way to get my wife to do anything was to annoy her. She can—and has—outstubborn and outspite Ambrose himself.

By habit, I follow her, picking up my pace until I reach the passenger door and open it for her. When she hesitates at the side of the tall vehicle, I offer her my hand. Just as I’d done so many times back in Willow Creek. She takes it without thought and gathers her skirt in her other hand before stepping up and settling into the front passenger seat. At least she recalls enough from Eris’s experiences that she’s able to figure out the seat belt by the time I’m in the driver’s seat.

She’s quiet as we drive away from the clan house and deeper into the Barrows. I practically hear the thoughts churning in her head. I’m impressed she’s held her tongue this long. Cassandra isn’t known for withholding her opinion, especially with me.

I take pity on her when we’re halfway to Black Death Beanery, Darcelle’s coffee shop.

“What did you mean when you said something is draining you and Eris?” I ask, my voice tightening with emotion by the end. By the time I finish, I can’t fight the terror that’s climbing around my ribs like a briar bush.

The silence between us grows thicker and darkness begins to yawn in my stomach, filling me with dread. When we come to a stoplight, I turn to look at her. She meets my gaze, sorrow and guilt filling her beautiful eyes. I want to reach out and swear I’ll protect her no matter what, but I failed her when it mattered most. Because of that, she sacrificed herself to a demon.

“Whatever Aeternaphiel did to Eris,” Cassandra says, her voice wavering. She swallows and continues. “Eris is dying. Which means I am too.”

Chapter Four

CASSANDRA

The Black Death Beanery is Eris’s favorite coffee shop. It’s owned by Darcelle, an open-minded witch. Because of that, the coffee shop is always filled with different supernatural species. Darcelle has a tolerance policy for rivalries in their shop and the witch is powerful enough to enforce it. Eris had been drawn to Darcelle the moment Darcelle had cocked a brow at the demon before warning her to keep her talons to herself and before immediately asking what her order was.

Over the years, Eris and the witch had grown close, and that relationship is what I’m hoping to draw on. My magic has never been as structured as a witch within a coven and while Darcelle does not flaunt it, they are a high-ranking member within the Barrow’s obscure coven. Ambrose has created a safe haven for supernatural creatures within the Barrows, including witches without covens. The coven is very insular, protecting its members from those who have grudges against covens.

Ashe follows me into the coffee shop, opening the door for me as if I’m just another duty he’s forced to attend. I want to beg him, yell at him, go crazy and make a scene if that’s what it takes to get him to actually look at me.

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