Wytchcraft: A Matilda Kavanagh Novel (19 page)

“Doesn’t mean she doesn’t have him though,” I reassured myself. “Just means he’s not here.”

I took a step toward the door, reaching out for one of the doorknobs. There was no answering tingle of a spell laid into it, surprisingly enough. I assumed the vamps would have at least one witch on the payroll to put some protection spells around this place. The knob was cool to the touch, like everything else around here. I gripped it with a new determination. I was going to find Theo, cast a truth spell on her, and find out where she was keeping Roane. Then I was gonna hit her with my knockout powder and get the hell out of here.

Just as I was turning the knob, feeling it give under my hand because it wasn’t locked, a voice sounded behind me. “Mattie!”

I spun around, pulling the sachet full of knockout powder out of my bag, ready to throw it, but the sight of Fletcher’s confused face stopped me.

“Tadpoles on toast, Fletcher!” I hissed back at him, dropping the sachet back in my bag, the tension in my shoulders melting away again.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me away from the door. Fletcher spun us around, pressing me against a far wall and effectively hiding me with the line of his tall body.

He was dressed for the night again, looking very much like he did when I first met him in the restaurant. His floor-length, black trench coat whispered against the floor as he moved. His pants were covered with straps and buckles tonight, though I doubted they had any practical purpose. The silver metal caught like jewelry in the light. He wasn’t wearing the ridiculous boots with all the buckles, so I wondered if he’d chosen the pants to make up for the lack of bling on his shoes. He was wearing black and white Creepers that had to have at least two and a half inch platform soles. They added to his already impressive height, just like the boots had, and made him tower over me again.

He dipped his head closer to my face, his steely eyes boring into mine as he asked me again what I was doing. I opened my mouth, ready to tell him, then I remembered him taking me to Theo and watching as his self-control slipped out of his eyes. I closed my mouth and glared up at him, swallowing my reply.

“Mattie,” Fletcher said, seeing the stubbornness setting into my face. “You’re gonna get yourself killed wandering around here by yourself. Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Yes,” I said, lifting my chin.

“Obviously you don’t,” he said as he took a step back, letting his hands drop from my shoulder. “The younger vampires are already starting to wake up.”

“So?”

“So?” Fletcher ran his hands through his hair, tugging on the ends, taking a breath to control his anger. “So, Mattie, they’re younger vampires, they’re waking up
hungry,
and they aren’t old enough yet to have pets.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling the creeping blush of embarrassment heat my face.

“And you’re walking around here, your pulse hammering away like a goddamn dinner bell,” Fletcher finished even though he didn’t need to.

“Right,” I said, glancing up and down the hallway, realizing I couldn’t remember which way I’d come.

“So,” Fletcher said, drawing out the word. “Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”

“I can’t,” I shook my head. “You’re obviously bound to Theo; if I tell you, you’re just gonna go running to tattle on me.”

“Everyone is bound to Theo,” Fletcher said, evading the second part of my statement.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s the master of our city,” Fletcher said.

“I know you all answer to her.”

“No,” Fletcher said, making a cutting motion with his hand. “We’re
bound
to her; as the Master, she has dominion over all of us. The farther down the family tree you go, yeah, the compulsion is lesser, but when you’re younger, like me, the compulsion is strong.”

“So when you’ve been dead for a while,” I said, “she won’t have as much control over you?”

“Well,” he said, scrunching up his face as he thought about it. “You have no idea how powerful she really is, but yeah, what happened the other night wouldn’t be so extreme.”

“Okay,” I said, “well, that’s what I’m talking about. If I tell you what I’m doing here, you’re too vulnerable to keep it a secret.”

“Trust me; of the two of us, you’re the vulnerable one here.”

“I know I didn’t think this through,” I said, trying to fight back the heat in my face, “but I thought Roane was here and I have a seeking charm, so I thought I’d be out of here in a minute.”

“The charm isn’t working?”

“No.”

“So Theo wasn’t lying to you.”

“Not necessarily,” I said, lifting my chin again. “It just means Roane isn’t here, in this building. Theo could still have him somewhere else.”

“To what end, Mattie?” Fletcher demanded, throwing his hands up in the air. “Theo is one of the most powerful beings in our entire county. What good would come of having a Fae prince held captive?”

“Fairies have magical powers, Fletcher.”

“So do vampires.”

“It’s not the same,” I argued. Glancing away from Fletcher’s searching and confused eyes, I tried to think of a reason for Theo to have stolen Roane. But really, did she need a reason? She took Owen away from me out of pure jealously. She has eons of life ahead of her. I will be long dead before her. She could have let me have a measly century or so with Owen.

“Or maybe she wants something from the Lord and Lady of Dunhallow,” I said, pulling myself out of that warren of angry thoughts.

“Like what?”

“Obviously I don’t know,” I said, leaning into his space as well. “Obviously a mortal witch can’t understand the way crazy ass immortals’ minds work, but I know they like to mess with each other and play bullshit mind games.”

“You really think Theo would risk war just to play a mind game?”

“Yes.” That was a question I didn’t even need a moment to think about. I could see Theo’s face when Owen came scampering back to her, knowing I would be waking up alone and heartbroken. Yes, Theo would hurt someone else just to play a stupid mind game.

“Fine,” Fletcher sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to win this argument. “But you admit that Roane isn’t here, so you need to get the hell out of here before you’re caught.”

“I have to figure out where she’s keeping him before I go.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” I said with a sigh, feeling the fight go out of me. These last few nights, I haven’t felt like myself, feeling the fairy dogs biting at my heels, terrified the Dunhallows were going to lose their patience at any minute and decide to end me when I was least expecting it.

“You really don’t think these things through, do you?” Fletcher asked. I lifted my face to meet his, ready to snap at him only to have the words die on my lips. Fletcher was smiling at me. There was a twinkle in his eye, something I hadn’t seen in a guy’s face since I caught Owen’s attention so many years ago. I amused Fletcher.

“I usually do,” I said, finding my voice again. Fletched shook his head, that damn smile still playing about his mouth. I felt a tingle run up my spine, making me squirm away from it. I would not, would not, fall for another vampire. Ever.

“Then you’re off your game, Ms. Kavanagh,” Fletcher said. “Time you remembered how to play. C’mon, I’ll help you.”

“No,” I said, holding up a hand to stop him. “I can’t ask you to do that. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know that,” Fletcher said, reaching out to take my hand and pull me with him down the hall. “But I brought you here in the first place; if you get caught, it’ll be on me. So, really, it’s in my best interest to help you and get you the hell out of here before the Elders wake.”

I wanted to argue with him, to get away from him, but he was right; I’d dragged him into this by convincing him to bring me here in the first place. I stopped fighting his pull and started rushing with him. He ran us past the ornate door I was about to go through before he caught me and continued down the hall.

“Where are we going?” I whispered, suddenly worried about the level of my voice.

“We’re going to find a friend of mine,” Fletcher said cryptically. “He’s in Theo’s inner circle, but for the right price, he’ll sell you any piece of information you want.”

I don’t have any idea how he managed it, but I soon realized that Fletcher had brought us around full circle and we were among the apartment hallways again. He brought us to a stop in front of a door that looked like all the other doors around us, but his confidence that this was the right door was enough for me. Fletcher knocked, but it took two more knocks and one pounding before the lock on the other side clicked open.

“Yes?” A very young pair of eyes blinked out at us.

“Is Tate up yet?” Fletcher asked. The eyes blinked at us again before the door opened another inch and I was able to see the soft face of a very young human girl. If she was a day over nineteen, then I was a blue-horned slug. Her face was soft and flawless, pale with blood loss, making her dark brows a shock of color on her face. Her black hair tumbled behind her, down her shoulders.

“He is rising,” she answered, and I picked up on a slight accent that made her voice very pretty to listen to. She stood back, holding the door open for us. When the light fell on her and I walked by, I saw the marks up and down the sides of her neck. Some were older and healing, making the fresh ones, red and swollen, all the more obvious.

She ducked her head when we made eye contact, averting her eyes as a healthy flush colored her cheeks. At least she wasn’t totally dead, yet. Fletcher led us into the apartment. This one was very different than his; it was quite a bit larger for one thing, Fletcher’s entire apartment could have fit into the sitting room of this one. But it was also much colder than Fletcher’s, decorated in blacks and whites and chrome. I couldn’t imagine anyone taking a nap on that square block of a couch.

“Will you tell him that Fletcher is here to see him?” Fletcher said to the girl after she closed and locked the door. She bobbed her head again and scurried past us, keeping her eyes on the floor in front of her tiny feet, her white nightgown snapping at her ankles as she went.

“Be sure he’s fed before he comes out,” Fletcher called after her just before the door in the back fell closed. Fletcher motioned for me to sit, but I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to. When he shrugged and lowered himself to the couch, placing his feet on the glass and chrome coffee table, I huffed and took a seat in one of the matching, square armchairs.

It took this mysterious Tate so long to come out and join us that I was a tight ball of nerves by the time the bedroom door opened. My knee was bouncing and I had to sit on my hands to keep myself from chewing my thumbnail. I kept check my phone for the time, watching my window to get back in time for Kyle’s appointment quickly shrinking.

“Fletcher!” a voice boomed through the room, announcing Tate’s belated arrival. He burst through the door, sending it flying into the wall with a slam that made me jump. Fletcher smirked at me, silently telling me to brace myself.

When Tate walked into the living room, I got a clear look at the vampire and immediately wished I hadn’t. He was as tall as Fletcher, only Fletcher’s Creepers made him a couple of inches taller. But Tate was practically naked; he wore flimsy silk, white boxers that were nearly lost against his pale white skin and a red velvet robe that he hadn’t bothered to tie – which is why I knew what his boxers looked like. He had coarse black hair that curled over his chest and down his round belly, disappearing into the straining elastic band of his boxers. His hair was snow white and slicked back against his head.

Tate’s eyes were such a faint color of blue that they were almost colorless. He had a full lower lip that made him look like he was pouting when he wasn’t smiling, and when he was smiling, his mouth stretched wide like a clown’s. Something about him made him look like he should be sweating, but without a heartbeat, vampires didn’t sweat. He was just greasy. Everything about him made me want to keep a decent amount of space between us.

He was shaking hands with Fletcher, clapping him on the shoulder and laughing when those beady eyes alighted on me and he realized I was standing there. One pale blond eyebrow arched over his freckled forehead as he glanced from Fletcher’s face to mine. He took a step around Fletcher to get a better look at me, and I found myself wanting to move behind the chair I had been sitting in.

“And what have we here?” he drawled, taking a step toward me. “Brought your own toy to the party, have you?” He grinned at Fletcher and took another step toward me. I held my breath, hoping to hold in the scent of fear I knew I was probably emitting. I had to remain where I was. If I put the chair between us, then I would be sending a clear signal to Tate that I was prey and I could, and probably would, set off his blood lust. Though I could see the tiny smear of blood in the corner of his mouth that told me he’d already drank from the girl who let us in.

“No, Tate,” Fletcher said, reaching out and taking Tate by the arm, his fingers curling around his soft bicep and pulling him back. “She’s not a toy.”

“But she looks like so much fun,” Tate said, somehow able to draw out the last word, making it sound like it had way more syllables than it actually did.

“Be that as it may,” Fletcher said, turning Tate to face him and effectively breaking his eye contact with me, “we’ve come to barter.”

“Oh,” Tate said, his shoulders slumping and the twinkle in his eye blinking out. “Business, how pedantic.”

Tate pulled away from Fletcher’s grip and threw himself down on the couch, his robe fluttering around him, draping over the couch. He snapped two fingers, and the girl from the door came scurrying out of the bedroom, rushing to his side. She knelt on the floor beside him, tucking her tiny feet under her so that her nightgown covered them. She folded her hands in her lap and went perfectly still, just sitting there like some china doll, waiting for her orders.

I glanced at Fletcher, feeling the first stirrings of hate blooming inside of me; he kept bringing me to these creepy places without much explanation. I was so over this crap. Fletcher tilted his head, telling me to have patience, but that was something I was in short supply.