Page 9 of The Royal Street Witch
“You don’t even know how much I owe on my building.”
“It doesn’t matter. Money, I have plenty of. I have only one brother.”
I close the envelope. The music, trilling in my ears. My stomach turns from the drink and no food. I wouldn’t have to worry, ever again. Violetta could take all she wanted. If something ever happened with The Agreement, I could keep my home and shop, and the pressure to reproduce would lessen. I could live as myself, not just Aster, the Royal Street Witch, with generations full of expectations to uphold.
Vampires have it easier. They get lonely and they can just turn someone into a mate or family member. Witches are a dying breed, with an obligation to bear daughters to keep our lineage alive. Women like my poor mother, forced to have a child she didn’t really want. Forced to raise me when she was practically still a child herself. And what did she learn from that? Nothing, because now she’s pressuring me to do the same. Her voice echoes in my head. “Just pop out one, Aster. One and done. Two or three would be better, but at least one for now.” I don’t want to be forced to do anything anymore.
“Brandy and gator bites,” Ronnie says, interrupting my thoughts and placing the items on the table.
“Thank you,” Bastian says, raising his glass to Ronnie as she winks then walks away.
There’s something about him that makes it easy to forget he’s a vampire. He’s jovial and pleasant, so very different than the others.
I toss a gator bite into my mouth, trying to play my nauseated state off.
“I hear they taste like children,” Bastian whispers, his glare sinking into me, onto my neck.
“Chicken, I think you mean chicken,” I breathe out, feigning boredom. But it’s impossible to be bored sitting next to a man like him. He watches the vein on my neck pulse and then looks at me, gathering himself, and it hits me—no, reminds me. Bastian is a vampire. Bastian drinks blood. “You must not be from around here if you didn’t have gator bites…before…”Before you died, I want to say, but he gets my drift.
“It’s complicated.” He sips on his brandy, looking at the bartender who waves at him. “You couldn’t come on Burlesque night?” He bares all his teeth.
“A vampire could be more dangerous during the day, don’t you think?”
“Cassius isn’t a danger to anyone but himself.” His arms spread across the top of our booth, and we are so close, someone could get the wrong idea.
“And the humans he needs to feed on,” I add, looking up at him through my lashes, and his stare is borderline uncomfortable.
It’s unfair really, how beautiful they stay. Their only sustenance—blood and alcohol. I wonder how old he is and how old he was when he was turned. I wonder what is pushing him. Why is this so important? His offer is becoming more and more tantalizing, and to be honest, it’s terrifying me.
“Why do you think daylight will cure his pain?” I want to tell Bastian I know the root of his brother’s agony, but I don’t, keeping Violetta’s conversation tucked inside.
“Because it’s all I have left to offer him. It’s my last resort. Because it has to.” Bastian’s eyes pin me against the booth, the sincerity, the depth, palpable. Hereallywants this.
“I have a question. The answer will determine my decision.”
He slowly nods, skeptical yet hopeful.
“It’s obvious you love your brother. But why are you willing to risk our lives for this potion, to save him?” I whisper it, my heart pounding in my chest because I’m actually considering this. And we could both die because of it.
His eyes scan my chest, most likely picking up on my burst of adrenaline. “I know what’s most important to you. Your family home and your business.”
Grandma’s fingers were on mine, her voice was barely above a whisper when she said,You’re a descendant of the great Sarah Wildes who watched her step-mother hang. You are a true witch. Don’t lose our home. Don’t let our name be forgotten with time. Bastian is right.
His voice hardens with his intensity, with the sputter of his words. “Do you know what’s most important to me? My family. My brother, especially. I love him like I love no other. Let’s save what we love most together.”
It’s quite convincing, the passion in his voice, the veins in his throat so tight they could burst. Yet, it’s still so hard for me to say yes.
“If he’s so important to you, why haven’t you come back all these years?”
“Just because you haven’t seen me doesn’t mean I haven’t come back. But this time I’m here to stay as long as I need to.”
“It’s so risky. I don’t even know if I can do it.” This is a vulnerable thing for me to say, and the words almost catch in my throat.
“No risk, no reward.” He leans toward me, sensing I’m close to giving in.
“Risks threaten our very existence.”
And then he smiles, a deep genuine smile, and my heart rate peaks. “Ah. Come on. Risks make life more interesting. Let go.”
