Page 47 of Beast of Blood and Roses
She hesitated, then met my eyes directly. “Will The Witch’s Heart show me what to do?”
I tensed, my shoulders drawing tight. The Witch’s Heart showed harsh truths, half-formed nightmares that could drive someone mad trying to interpret them. But there were other powers that Enzo had told me about. He’d warned me to stay focused on the visions and their protective abilities, and to avoid its other powers. I’d never had any reason not to follow his directions since the heart had served me well. But if I allowed her to use it, it might unlock a power we weren’t ready to wield.
“You must beware that The Witch’s Heart only shows partial images, and it will only reveal more in different stages.” Ifixed her with a look that carried a warning she needed to understand. “What you see might not be the complete truth, not yet.”
“I understand that.” She stepped closer, closing the distance between us, and gently placed her warm hand over my claw. Her skin was soft against the rough, deadly points that could tear her apart without effort. “But I need to know.”
Her soft touch broke through every wall I’d built around my heart. She didn’t flinch, didn’t cringe when she touched the monster I’d become. Her fingers were steady and sure against my transformed hand, accepting me as I was. Heat spread from where she touched me, something warm and foreign that made my chest ache with longing.
At that moment, staring into her brave, determined eyes, I couldn’t deny her anything.
I slowly lifted the leather cord over my head, The Witch’s Heart warm against my palm. “Hold out your hand.”
She stretched out her palm, steady despite everything. I stared down at her open hand, the amulet growing heavier in my grip as doubts crashed over me.
According to Enzo, the amulet could be unpredictable at best, and vindictive at worst. What if it revealed the darkest truths I wasn’t ready to share? What if it showed her images of her real parents, or worse, what if it showed her exactly what kind of monster I’d been before the curse?
But her resolute expression never wavered. She deserved to know what we were dealing with, even if the truth might shatter everything she believed about her life.
“Please, Beast.” Her desperation cut through me like a razor-sharp blade.
I sighed heavily, my chest tight with reluctance, and gentlyplaced the heart-shaped amulet in her open palm. “Now, ask it a question.”
“Will it show me the intruder?” Her fingers trembled slightly as she spoke.
“Perhaps.” I watched her face carefully, bracing myself for whatever The Witch’s Heart might reveal.
Rosalie clasped her fingers around the amulet, her knuckles going white with the force of her grip. “Show me the intruder.”
I held my breath, my heart pounding against my ribs as I hoped it would reveal more; enough that I could protect her from whatever was coming.
Above her closed fist, the air began to shimmer and ripple. It looked like heat waves rising from summer pavement. A vision slowly formed, translucent and ghostly.
Volaris materialized in the wavering image, standing at a craps table with dice in his hands. This time he wore a clean white shirt that looked expensive, and his hair was freshly cut and styled. His dark eyes gleamed with barely contained greed as he rolled the dice between his palms like a prayer.
The vision showed him looking years younger than when I’d last seen him.
I watched, transfixed, as he placed the dice in his right hand and blew on them with the desperate intensity of a man betting his last dollar. The dice flew from his fingers and clattered across the green felt table: a seven.
Instantly, all the stacked chips in front of him were swept away by the dealer’s rake. His face crumbled, hope dissolving into pure terror as fear flared in his eyes like a trapped animal.
Then the vision vanished like smoke.
“Dad?” Rosalie stepped back in confusion as she stared atthe empty air where the image had been. “Why would this amulet show me my dad? He isn’t the intruder.”
But I wasn’t so sure. My jaw clenched as pieces of a darker puzzle began forming in my mind. Was Volaris even her real father, and if he wasn’t, why was he pretending? Did he know that Rosalie was a witch?
“The Witch’s Heart doesn’t always show what we expect,” I said carefully, not wanting to voice my suspicions yet.
“Show me the intruder, not my dad.” Frustration leaked into her eyes as she squeezed the amulet tighter.
Nothing happened. The stone remained cold and lifeless in her grip.
“Why isn’t it showing me anything?” She shook her fist as if that might coax another vision from the stubborn amulet.
“I’m not sure. But once it goes silent, you’re wasting your time trying to force it.” I gently placed my hand over hers, feeling the warmth of her skin through the cool stone.
The problem was, I couldn’t identify where that craps table was located. It could be anywhere—the vampires’ Crimson Stakes, the Unseelie’s Midnight Court, the wolves’ Silver Moon. Hell, it could even one of the smaller gambling dens that operated in the shadows of Bourbon Street. Volaris clearly hadn’t learned his lesson about gambling, despite whatever consequences he’d already faced.
