Page 73 of Blood Bound

“You’re right, of course,” I concur, knowing this will be a blow to them.

“And then, I’m going to reach out to my people.” She sounds more confident as she says this.

I nod, absorbing her words. “That’s a good plan. The more powerful witches we have on our side, the better our chances of finding Rowan quickly.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “I have some old friends who owe me favors. Astra Moonshadow, for one. She’s an expert in dream magic and illusions. Her son, Heath, has been helpful in honing Rowan’s magical skills these past few days. He may be able to connect with that.”

At the mention of Heath, I feel a flicker of annoyance.

The fucking witch boy.

I give a tight smile. “Astra Moonshadow,” I repeat, keeping my tone neutral. “I’ve heard she’s formidable. Do you think she’ll be willing to help, given the…delicate nature of the situation?”

Delicate nature?

You’re jealous of the boy, Drake. Get your head out of your ass.

Evelyn’s lips quirk into a small smile. “Astra and I go way back. She’ll help, especially when she learns it’s about finding Rowan. Plus, there are others I can call upon. Lysandra Starfire has the power of visions. And Ignatius Emberstone is good to have around in a fight – if it should come to that. We witches stick together in times of crisis.”

“Alright,” I say, pushing aside my reservations. We need all the help we can get. “While you work on gathering your allies, I’m going to deal with Marlowe.”

“You believe he’s behind this.” She doesn’t frame it as a question.

“Positive. But going there first would have forced his hand; he’d have hidden her more cleverly. Thanks to this,” I pat the spot in my jacket where the pendant rests, “I think we have a fighting chance. If there’s anything I can pick up from him, I’ll find it.”

She looks at me intently, her eyes – so like Rowan’s – searching my face. “Be careful, Darick. This situation is more complex than it appears. There are ancient forces at play here, and not everyone’s motivations are clear.”

Without thinking, I reach out and rest a hand on her shoulder. It’s surprisingly solid for a woman of her years. It’s a strength based on more than her physical form. Magic ripples through her.

“I’m bringing her home, Madame Blackwood.”

Her eyes go gentle for a moment. “Darick Drake, when you bring her home, you’re going to come back here and start calling me Gran.”

“Count on it,” I say, oddly warmed by her words. I turn away and head to the door, reaching for my phone as I walk. Dialing Marcus’s number takes me straight to voice mail.

“Shit,” I mutter as I glare at the screen. I leave a message, then shoot him a text for good measure. It would be good to have backup, but I feel capable of tackling Marlowe by myself. Particularly considering the mood I’m in.

Minutes later, I arrive at Lucien’s mansion through the shadows, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. The opulent facade does nothing to impress me; I’ve seen centuries of wealth, and Lucien’s attempt at grandeur feels hollow. More than that, it’s gaudy.

As I stride up to the entrance, the doors swing open as if expecting my arrival. Lucien stands there, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Darick Drake,” he drawls. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” He steps aside, inviting me in with a sweep of his arm.

I brush past him, entering the foyer. “Cut the bullshit, Lucien. Where is she?”

He splays his hands, feigning innocence. “She? You’ll have to be more specific, old friend.”

“Rowan Blackwood,” I growl, my patience wearing thin. “I know you’re behind her disappearance.”

Lucien’s smirk widens. “Ah, the little witch. You must be in quite a panic, losing such a precious resource.”

I narrow my eyes.

“Your blood match, isn’t she?” He cracks a smile that begs to be punched off his face. And his words confirm my suspicions – he knows about Rowan and our connection.

“Where is she, Lucien?”

He chuckles, moving to pour himself a drink from a nearby drinks trolley. I catch the scent of AB negative, and my stomach turns.

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