Page 102 of Promised in Blood

The meeting descends into chaos. Wolves and vampires and witches all hurl insults and accusations at one another.

Ollenshaw remains frozen at the front of the room, silently pleading for this to all be tied up as quickly and cleanly aspossible so he will be saved from having to deal with any fallout. Looks like it might be too late for that.

I work my way through the minds of the Crescent Society heads. Two are loyal to Osiris, and knowing that he has my support is enough for them. The fourth, however, is angry and suspicious. All the witches, with the exception of Enora, do not believe me, but that is to be expected given my history with them.

Osiris catches my eye and throws his hands in the air.For the love of fuck, get a grip on this lot, Alexandros. I am astounded that I hear his thoughts as clearly as all the rest after the decades he has spent building a wall against me. But he is not wrong, and his words are what I need to hear to pull myself together.

“Enough!” My bellow reverberates from the walls, causing the noise level to drop first to a hushed murmur and finally silence. I take a moment to shove back my instinct to tell them all to get the fuck out of my way and go rot in the netherworld before standing and addressing the room. “I have no desire to cover up wrongdoings at this university. If the two vampires of Onyx had killed the wolf girl in cold blood, then I would not hesitate to ensure they met with swift justice. And whilst Nicholas and I have had our differences”—I glance at him—“I know that he would demand the same.” He nods his agreement. As much as we disagree on a lot of matters, vampire law is not one of them. “I read one of the vampires’ minds, and I can assure you that he was under the influence of dark magic.”

A new professor, a witch I believe, raises her hand. “But who would do such a thing?”

“We believe it was the Skotádi,” Enora says, her tone soft yet full of gravitas.

Again, audible disbelief trickles through the room, this time more hushed than before. However, I also hear the society headsvoicing their relief to themselves that they no longer have to keep this secret.

“But Skotádi? Here on campus? Why, Alexandros?”

“I have no idea, Jerome,” I say, lying with ease. “Probably a random attack. The Onyx vampires and the young wolf from Amalthea were in the woods. It is possible that the Skotádi realized their proximity and chose to cross onto campus grounds.”

“But I thought the campus was protected?” another witch asks.

“It is, Indigo,” Enora replies. “But the Skotádi are powerful enough to breach such protective spells.”

“Then we must bolster our defenses,” Nicholas Ashe declares. “Prevent this from happening again.”

“Whatever we do, we must do it quietly and without fuss,” I remind them. “We do not want to cause unnecessary panic across the student body.”

Jerome grimaces. “How do we keep this from them? A girl was murdered in the woods.”

Osiris steps forward. “I am speaking with Esme’s family tonight and will deliver the news myself. They are long-standing patrons of Montridge and do not care for human interference. They will wish to deal with their daughter’s death privately and will likely seek assurance that her killers are dealt with.” He glares at Nicholas Ashe.

Nicholas licks his lips. “They will be expelled and transferred to their posts within the day. But if they were not of sound mind, that is all the action I am prepared to take.”

Osiris glances at me.It is the best course of action, I tell him.

He nods his understanding, and we spend the next twenty minutes fielding a barrage of questions from the faculty, giving and repeating all the information we agreed to disclose.

Finally, I hold up a hand and silence the room. “There is nothing more to add. All of you know what must be done.”

“If that is all, I must go make arrangements to meet with Esme’s parents,” Osiris announces. He strides from the room, and I follow, ignoring the pleas from Jerome to stay and assist him in assuaging the concerns of the staff.

I have much more pressing matters to deal with.

I walk down the hallway with Osiris, and Enora scurries up beside us. “All four, Alexandros,” she whispers.

“I know, Enora.”

“Do you not wonder if she could be…?”

“No.” I spin to face her, and she finishes the question in her mind. “I do not believe in fairytales.”

She hisses out a breath. “Then you are a fool.”

Realization dawns on Osiris’s face. “The child borne of fire and blood. You read her admission essay, Alexandros. What if she is?” He glances up and down around the empty hallway as if suddenly aware he is being indiscreet.

Enora places her hand on my arm. “I saw it too, file mou.” She lowers her voice. “And now she has powers that would rival those of only Azezal himself.”

“And did they not make such claims about him? Except that he was not the chosen one because the Prophecies of Fiere are nothing more than the ramblings of an ancient sage, probably high on some sort of mushroom.”

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