Page 42 of The Soulless Witch

“Apologies, Madame Celeste. Would you like me to have dinner prepared?”

“We ate.” I shook my head, then remembered that Roman hadn’t actually eaten anything, just pretended to drink wine. “You should bring something for your Master, though.”

“Bring it to the Control room,” Roman said with a note of displeasure, tugging at my hand. His butler bowed his head as we passed. We headed down a series of corridors that led to the library which Roman had filled with books he had collected over the centuries, and just before we reached the giant room taking up most of the last floor, he pushed open a door that I hadn’t even noticed.

My eyebrows shot to my hair while I took in the monitors attached to the walls and several of those computer devices Lily had shown me scattered around. There was a big, rectangular table in the middle, with even more devices and papers lying in disarray on top of it. Pictures peeked from under the papers, maps, drawings, and lists so long that some of them tumbled off the edge of the table all the way to the floor.

“What is all of this?” I asked when Roman closed the door.

“We call it the Control room since it controls everything I own—from the house, to my accounts, to the people working for me.” I quickly closed my mouth when I noticed his arrogant smile. “Being rich and immortal has its perks,” he added, striding to the table and picking up the scattered papers before putting them in neat piles. When he cleared half of it, he picked up one of the laptops. His fingers ran over the keyboard with dizzying speed, the screen lighting up, and numerous squares opening one after another.

“From what I had gathered over the past few decades, the hunters have three bases in the city,” he said, motioning for me to sit beside him. I obeyed, looking at the screen with confusion. “Getting a person inside those is virtually impossible, and the last few generations of hunters are even more zealous than their ancestors. They take loyalty very seriously and their selection process is even more extreme than before.”

“How do you know all of that?” I asked, staring at his profile. The artificial light from the computer made his skin translucent, his dark veins looking even more pronounced. Or maybe it wasn’t the light, but his hunger that made him so pale. Vampires didn’t need to feed that often, but after almost burning in the sun, I bet he was going to need a lot of blood to fully recover.

“When I eventually found out where you died the last time, I settled here and waited. I didn’t know how long it was going to be until you reawakened, so I used my time to study the forces in the area. The Fae were here even before the humans, as well as some of the witches and werewolves. There was one Order base back then, but eventually, it grew to two, then three. I’ve been preparing for every possible scenario so I can make sure you will be protected when you wake up.” I continued to stare, but he only gave me a brief glance before returning his eyes to the computer. “I didn’t expect I’d have to infiltrate the Order out of all things.”

“So my medallion is in one of those places?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I’ve doubled my efforts in monitoring their movements since your awakening, and there was footage of them bringing something in the night you woke.” He clicked on the keyboard and a picture opened, showing four men carrying a small wooden box secured with several locks. “I’ve had people monitoring their comings and goings around the clock. Nothing has left the building.”

“My medallion is small, so it can be hidden in a pocket or under clothes.” I shook my head. “And as I told you, you can’t sense its magic. It only responds to me.”

“I know,” he replied, pulling up another picture. This one was of a man in his thirties, with long hair pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head and a thick beard that made him look even more intimidating. But it wasn’t his presence or even his handsome face that caught my eye. It was the delicate, clearly feminine golden medallion hanging around his neck. “Is that it?” Roman asked, and I finally tore my eyes away from the screen.

“Who is he?”

“From the clothes he wears and the tattoos he has,” Roman said, opening several more pictures of the same man, taken from different angles. “He must be a witch hunter. I haven’t seen him around here, but the others seem wary of him, so he must be extremely skilled or very important. I’m already looking into his identity, but ever since that night, he has been wearing that medallion around his neck, even when he leaves the bases. We believe the headquarters are connected underground because sometimes he’s seen entering one and exiting from another. So as long as we have eyes on him and that thing around his neck, we know it’s here.”

I looked back at the screen, studying the man in more detail. His eyes were the palest shade of gray I had ever seen, scars marring the flesh around his tattoos that were all carefully drawn over his vital organs. Each tattoo was an ancient symbol, protecting from all kinds of spells that could influence the body. Staring at the mark on his forehead that was shielding his brain from spells that could influence it, I felt a shiver run down my spine.

“What if it’s fake?” I whispered, focusing on the medallion around his neck. “It’s obviously a ploy to draw me out, but what if the real one is hidden somewhere else? They could have made a replica of it—I can’t tell if it’s real from the pictures. I have to go near it.” Looking back at the hunter, I considered his posture, the way he looked around, the way he exposed himself. “It’s like…he doesn’t care that we can see it. Like he is challenging me and knowing he’d win.” I looked back at Roman, frowning. “It’s like he knows that the power I’m missing is in that thing. It’s—”

“Celeste.” Roman’s hand slipped over mine. I realized I was squeezing my palms into fists, nails digging painfully into the soft flesh. “You are overthinking. You said nobody but you and the witch who made the object know of this thing. There is no way the hunters are working with the witches, so he is just baiting you. And if that one is fake, we’ll find the real one. I need you to gather more power, so when we face him, we can get to that medallion. I have no doubt he won’t be alone and we’ll need all the strength we can get.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath and releasing it. Roman rubbed my hand with his thumb, the caress calming me down faster than the deep breaths. The door to the Control room opened and the butler strode in, carrying a tray with a tall glass full of blood. He set it in front of Roman, retreating a few steps as if waiting for further orders. Roman let go of my hand to pick up the glass, bringing it to his lips. He had barely taken a sip when he grimaced, putting it on the table.

“Is everything alright, Master?” the butler frowned, rushing to his side. “Is the blood bad? I went to collect it from the hospital just this afternoon. They said it was barely a few hours old. If it’s bad…”

“It’s fine, just leave,” Roman said without looking at him. The butler gave him a concerned look, but then he headed toward the door. His shoulders slouched with concern.

“What’s wrong with the blood?” I asked, picking up the glass and bringing it to my nose. I sniffed it, but it smelled normal, and a slither of my magic told me there weren’t any strange or harmful substances in it. The person who had donated this blood was as healthy as a human could hope to be.

“Nothing,” Roman replied, closing the windows on the screen and opening some other file.

“Roman.” I put the glass on the table, pushing the top of the laptop down, so he had no choice but to look at me. “If it’s nothing, drink it. Didn’t you just say that we need all the strength we can get?”

“It’s fine, it just tastes like…nothing. I’ll drink it later. I have some information I need to go through, then I can drive you home.” He moved to open the laptop again, but I pushed him back in his chair and straddled his legs. His exasperated look turned into a cautious one, hunger flashing in his eyes as I shrugged off my jacket, and turned my head so my neck was exposed.

“Drink, you capricious baby,” I smirked, catching his tie and pulling him toward me. He came easy, but he didn’t bite.

“No,” he said, running his fingers over the length of my neck. “And call me a baby one more time. I dare you.”

Hunger flashed in his eyes again, but this time, it had nothing to do with blood. Sliding my hands around his neck, I pressed myself against him, stopping my lips an inch away from his.

“Does my blood taste like nothing as well, then? You used to say that it tasted divine.” His hands slid around my waist, keeping me close to him while I brushed my lips against his. “How are you going to protect me if you are just as weak as I am? Drink, Roman. I can take it.” Looking into his eyes, I relaxed in his arms. “Don’t you trust me?”

He moved to sit straighter, his arms still cradling me against his chest, then slowly lowered his mouth to my neck. Closing my eyes, I took a calming breath while he ran his tongue over the sensitive skin before sinking his teeth into it. The pain grew when his fangs sank deeper, but it was soon replaced by a euphoria that made me smile as his grip tightened.

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