“Not sure. I’ll fill you in as soon as I know.”
Ben’s gone in a blur, his vampire speed leaving nothing but a gust in his wake that flutters the periodicals lined on the lower shelves.
One thing I’ve learned over the past year is that manipulation will get you nowhere when it comes to expectations.
Manipulation leads to resentment and anger. I need my men to trust me. It’s only by treating each one equally and without expectations that true bonds are formed. Even now, as some may not agree with my and Tricia’s vampire-fae bond, they care enough about me to respect Tricia as they circle around to hear her speak.
“I don’t know what we’re up against,” Tricia says with purpose, “but I trust in every single one of you to help me and Riley. I’m looking for information about the dangers of birthing fae-vampire offspring.”
Kevin Anderson peers upward, narrowing his gaze on the fourth floor of the library. “What kind of information? A spell? A curse? Would it come from the fae section or vampire section or something older, like the Magush?”
Kevin has been a friend of mine since we overtook Kane. The human has made it his duty to help me on numerous tasks and knows more about the library than anyone.
“I don’t know.” Tricia shakes her head. “My fae guards will use their skills to search the fae manuals because they can read Gaelic. The rest of you might want to split. Half can go with Kevin. The other, begin searching the vampire specific section.”
“Even if most were written by Kane?” Anderson shoots me a doubt-filled expression.
He has every right to doubt the old master, a notorious liar and narcissist. But with only four weeks left in Tricia’s pregnancy, I don’t have time to waste debating information. “Especially search Kane’s autobiographies. He may have given himself credit for creating magic altogether.”
The group chuckles, even the fae guards who’ve been taught to regard vampires as threats. It makes sense, since a royal fae’s blood cures turned vamps of vampirism. Catherine, the ex-Queen of Faery, made sure to label all vampires as bloodthirsty monsters when reality told another story: Turned vamps wanted to reclaim their humanity, and the only way to do so was by drinking royal fae blood.
“If they were written by Kane,” I stamp out, “he’d want to keep close curses that could lead to his demise and the death of his coven.”
Tricia pulls out her cell phone, scrolls through the pictures, and holds up the photo. “Oh, also keep a lookout for this. It could be connected. If not, I want to know what it means.”
“What are we looking at?” Kevin scrutinizes the pages.
“I found this mark on Ben Santos’ newborn’s thigh today. I don’t know what it means, if it means anything. If you see this, let me know. It could lead us to another clue.”
Gavin grumbles. “So you’re saying you and/or your baby might not survive the birth because there’s a curse against all newborns coupled with you and your family’s demise that will ultimately lead to ours?”
Others murmur their discomfort.
I raise my hand, silencing the men. “There are hundreds of thousands of books here. I don’t know if we’ll find an answer before the baby is due, but we have to try. In regards to the mark, it’s not only Ben’s baby that wears it. All the vampire-linked babies have been affected.”
Tricia breaches my mind as she spins to face me. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“You’re my responsibility. You were already upset.”
Her skin begins to glow. “You can’t always protect me. If more are affected—”
“Then what? You’re in less danger? The world is in less danger? Let’s start with finding a way to break the curse. Maybe in doing so the mark will resolve itself.”
Tricia severs our connection.
I don’t blame her for feeling irritated. But after seeing the babies with my own eyes, I don’t believe they’re in imminent danger.
“It’ll take months.” Nathan runs his hand across the shelf of books beside him.
Tricia steps toward him, places her hand on the vamp’s arm, and stills his angst. “I don’t want anyone to get overwhelmed. But I do think it’s clear that I don’t have months. Weeks perhaps, but from the baby’s placement, maybe less.”
This time, I breach Tricia’s mind, flowing through our connection as if I’m a tidal wave. “What do you mean by placement? Have you seen Dr. Sharma? What aren’t you telling me?”
She blows a breath. “Our baby is breech. It means I may need a cesarean section, which isn’t uncommon for human women. But I’m not human. Metal and hospitals aren’t good for me. They can’t be good for our baby. Human hospitals can’t protect our child from the sunlight the way we can at home. I want to have a home birth. I have a midwife scheduled for a water birth. I want us to welcome our baby into the world in the least harmful way, which doesn’t include machines and medical intrusions. I want it to be just us.”
My pulse jumps into my throat and my fangs descend as my protectiveness over my wife overpowers. Before this potential threat, I worried about her plans. All the what-ifs stacking up against us if something went wrong at the compound. “I won’t let anything happen to you or our child. But, if we find out this is the work of your grandmother’s dark magic, I’ll reduce her to ash.”
“Believe me.” She takes up my hand, rubbing her cheek against my palm. “We’ve almost transitioned all of Kane’s army, with half of them transitioning to human and the other choosing to follow you. Knowing Kane’s connections are nearly broken, and his death won’t be missed, I’ll help you take down Catherine.”
Anderson clears his throat, bringing me out of my connection with Tricia.
“We need more men. What about General Shaw? He may have a few men to spare.”
I think on it a moment before answering. “Normally, I wouldn’t suggest pulling soldiers from training to search for something that may not exist, but he knows about the delicate balance between humans and Other Kind. He’s not risking breaking a fae-vampire peace treaty and risking an apocalyptic event.”
Kevin lifts his cell. “I’ll speak with him.”
I address the others. “Until we find a clue, pocket your doubts and focus on finding answers.”
Tricia motions to the fae aisle. “We once lifted letters off a bespelled cookbook.”
“And that fiasco led to my full transition and knocked me out for days.”
She laces our fingers, tugging me toward the section marked Fae. “Good thing we can spare a few. This way…”
After a full three hours, Tricia plops down on the ground with her back flush against bottom first-floor shelving. “I don’t understand. We’ve touched every single fae book together and nothing has worked. I thought for sure we’d catch a break, but nothing seems easy. I wish I could summon the damn thing and it would show itself. The rest of the guys are still searching, but—”
She pauses mid-sentence, jutting her gaze upward to the highest shelf across from her at the height of the eight-foot ladder.
Before I grasp what she’s looking at, she’s withdrawn the book, which now hovers above our heads. The binding shimmers silver, but it’s not the light illuminating the room; it’s the symbol on the cover. “Looks like it was misfiled.”