Page 50 of Taming His Vampire Mate
“Itisvampires, then,” I said. “That’s what we thought.”
“No, we weresure,” Thierry cut in, sounding exasperated. He sighed and—apparently deciding she wasn’t about to attack—stepped out from behind me. “How many are there?”
She hesitated, studying us.
“I’m here on behalf of Nathaniel Bailey, vampire king of Seattle,” Thierry said harshly. “If we wished you harm, wewouldn’t have knocked. The witches of the city sent us. They knew something was wrong.”
“He volunteered,” I added. “He wanted to go alone, but the king said no.”
Thierry shot me a look. “Please don’t help me, wolf.”
The witch’s gaze moved between us. At last, she said, “Several dozen. Maybe a hundred. We think.”
“You think?” I demanded. “If you’ve been picking them off, shouldn’t you know?”
“Don’t be daft. She’s been inside, holding a barrier spell,” Thierry said. His gaze flicked to her. “There’s someone you’re protecting, isn’t there? Someone very sick, who can’t move.”
The witch blanched.
“Someone you know,” Thierry pressed. “A relative. A neighbor.”
Her jaw tightened.
“You’ve been holding a barrier spell all night?” I asked, incredulous. Daniel always said barriers were magic-intensive—best tied to something bigger than the witch casting it.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she glared at us, her gaze lingering on Thierry.
“I’ve heard of Seattle’s vampire king,” she said finally. “Where I’m from, vampires think he’s mad—that he’s rejecting his nature. But I’ve heard of his reputation.”
“Is that a good thing?” I asked.
“It’s the reason you and your vampire aren’t piles of ash,” she said flatly, then clenched her fist. The flames vanished in a puff of smoke. “I am Diana.”
“Jeremy,” I said automatically, gesturing to Thierry. “And he’s Thierry. Nathaniel’s right-hand man.”
“More the left hand,” Thierry said with a cold smile. “Harm us without cause, and you’ll regret it.”
To my surprise, Diana smiled back—just as cold. “Very well. Give me no reason, and I won’t.” Her smirk deepened. “Interesting… where I’m from, wolves and vampires don’t like each other.”
“We don’t,” I said automatically, which was now a lie.
Her eyes glittered as she studied us. “Of course not.”
“Well, then,” Thierry said pointedly. “It’s a splendid thing we’re all such good friends now. Need I remind you, the sun is setting? We’re running out of time.”
She sighed. “Fine. Come inside.”
* * *
Including the witch, there were four living people in the elder home.
There was Ben, a wide-eyed male nurse with sleep-mussed hair, dressed in pale blue scrubs that looked like they’d been worn for days. Alice, an elderly woman with snow-white hair and bright green eyes, sat at the kitchen table looking shell-shocked. She didn’t acknowledge us—probably still struggling with the idea that the supernatural wasn’t just real, but actively hunting her.
“Who’s in the back room?” I asked, catching the irregular breathing from down the hall—pained, labored.
“Don’t worry about that,” Diana said flatly. To Ben, she added, “I’ll begin casting in a moment. You know I can’t be interrupted.”
Ben nodded. “I’ll stay with her and keep her comfortable.” He hesitated. “But she needs antibiotics. The infection—”
