Page 138 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

“And I’m the only witch you know?” Her lips twitched.

“It’s not that,” I said quickly. “You understand music.”

The twitch widened into a smile, amused but not unkind. “And siren magic is musical. Fair enough.”

It was an effort not to dissolve into the chair with relief at her words. “Do you think you can help me?”

“I can try. Sirens are old magic, mostly forgotten. Even if you could convince your mother’s people to help you, they might not be able to.” Any relief I’d felt a moment of go evaporated. “Magic is largely intuitive. That is how some of us managed to hold onto more of it despite the curse.” She winked at me. “Although, it is much easier now that you’ve freed us.”

“I wish I found it intuitive,” I grumbled.

“But you have used it. Tell me about those times.”

I told her of calling Julian back to this world through the Song of Life. About the vampires who’d attacked us in Venice and how I’d handled them. “But there have been plenty of times when I couldn’t call upon it. Times when it might have made all the difference.”

“It sounds as if you can summon it emotionally,” she mused, strumming her fingers against her knee.

“But not all the time.” Apparently, my emotions were as fickle as my magic.

“And the times when you’ve felt it...Julian was present?”

“Every time,” I said slowly.

“And the times when you commanded it, controlled it?”

My voice sounded hollow, even to my own ears as I answered, “He was in danger, hurt.”

Dying. I couldn’t bring myself to say the final word.

“Then that is your problem.” She leaned back in her chair.

“Julian?” I began to shake my head. “He awakened my magic.”

“But he did not free it,” she stopped me. “You did that. Your magic might respond to him, it might protect him, but it is still your magic.”

I bit my lip. “But there is some of his magic inside me, too, since we...”

She grinned at the color now flushing my cheeks. “That is to be expected, but it doesn’t change facts. How much have you practiced using your magic?”

“Practiced? Never.” I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“And your music? Are you playing?”

Tension coiled inside me. “I’ve been busy.”

Her eyebrow arched. She didn’t say anything, but I knew what she was thinking.

“Ever since I found out what I am, I haven’t wanted to play.” I twisted my gloved fingers together as I confessed. “And when I have thought about it, I can’t shake this feeling that it was all a lie. My music. My training. I used to feel accomplished, and now I feel...like a fraud.”

I’d yet to say those words aloud to anyone, even Julian. I suspected he knew, though.

“Does Julian keep you from the cello?” she asked carefully.

“No.” I couldn’t help laughing. “He gave me a Stradivarius for Christmas.”

Diana snorted. “Of course he did.” She rose to her feet and crossed the room. I watched as she took her violin from its case. Before I could ask what she was doing, she began to play.

Music sliced through the air with aching, throbbing beauty, each note calling to me. Without thinking, I allowed my eyes to shutter, letting the music consume me. I didn’t just hear it. I felt it, felt each golden note, the rise and fall of its power, the primal lovely urgency of it. When the final note faded, I opened my eyes to find her watching me.

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