Chapter 52

Demon? Lynda shivered. No way was she one of those evil, hideous things. Too often the news brought up stories of someone conjuring demons for a nasty spell and got their comeuppance instead. Still, people did it all the time despite the dangers.

“I’d know if I was a demon or even a quarter-one.” But she didn't know her ancestry included a Russian witch either. What if one of her relatives had hooked up with a demon and now it was in her blood? How many generations later before Lynda wouldn't be considered a demon?

Though if she did have a drop of demon blood, that would explain why her magic went askew more times than not.

Lynda wrapped her arms around her waist to keep herself together. In such a short time, her life had been turned upside down. Good in some ways like finding the loves of her life and bad in others, like now.

“What happens if it turns out that I am a demon?” she asked. Her stomach threatened to revolt as her mouth dried.

Pierre tucked her closer to his side; kissing the top of her head. “I’d love you even if you were a three-headed demon. Think you'd have extra breasts to go along with the new you?”

She elbowed him in the side. “This is serious. What if I am part demon or something?”

“So what?” He turned her to face him, lifted her face with two fingers under her chin. “It's not what you are that defines you, but who you are.”

“Great, I could be a matchmaking demon.” She looked away.

“You are who you chose to be, my love.” He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her.

“Did you get that line from a movie?” Her insides were twisting up in tangles. Why was it taking the elders so long to figure out what she was? But she let him pull her into an embrace. Lightly kissed his lips, then turned to Grace.

“Don't the elders need to test my DNA or something to determine if I'm a demon or not?”

“Or do you all have a wand?” Pierre yawned. How could he be so calm about this? She might be a freaking monster...worse than a dozen Draculas...but would their father and sire back off if she was part demon? No, he'd probably try to kill her anyway because she didn't see him as the forgiving type even if she showed up with a pitchfork and forked tail to go along with it.

“Stop worrying.” Pierre patted her shoulder. “Until they know for certain, all this is speculation.”

Ya but too close to an answer for comfort. Even a half-demon had magic and could create mayhem. They reveled in mischief and evil. What if her magic was demonic? That would explain why it tore everything apart at the least provocation. But then why heal the undead and the half-human boy from the building? Why did it help her protect her men?

“Do you know what happens next?” Lynda stepped toward Grace who flinched away. A sickening sensation made her feel like the ground was opening up beneath her. “W-What will the council do if they think I'm a demon?” Would they banish her to the underworld? She'd never see Pierre, Mihnea, or Andrei again. Never eat chocolate or be able to put extra salt on her chips at a Mexican restaurant or get tipsy and dance along the shoreline letting sand squish between her toes. She covered her hand over her mouth. Never kiss any of her loves again or know Pierre's teasing and taste his exquisite cooking. Or settle into Andrei's arms which felt like home and hear his laugh that always made her smile and brighten her day. No more time to convince Mihnea that he and she could make love without waiting for one of his brothers to get her pregnant first.

God, she would give anything to go back to bed with her princes and never get out again.

“The council can't touch her if she's a demon or part, can they?” Pierre asked behind her.

Grace's gaze flicked to him then back to Lynda. “Technically no. But if they determine you have any demon blood at all they can say you were summoned by an evil magic user.”

“And vanquish me.” Lynda waved a shaky hand. “Ya kinda figured that one out for myself.”

Grace paled but looked away.

“What are you not telling me?” Lynda asked, fear choking her.

“Answer her or the blood bags I had weren't enough to subdue my hunger.”

Lynda placed a hand on his arm. She really didn't want to have to revert to violence and she'd thought Grace was becoming a friend before this new revelation.

“Rumors say some of the elders are mixed up in the black market.” Grace straightened. “If that's the case they might not send you to hell, but chop you up to sell your body parts on the black market.”

“Wait.” Lynda shook her head. “The elder said that members of the council had been dealt with.” And she'd assumed that meant wrong-doers but what if they'd spoken out against what they viewed as morally wrong practices?

“Sorry. I should've told you before, but I-I didn't know you'd be...normal.”

What the hell does that mean? Wait. This was all a setup. “The witches kidnapped Andrei?” Her skin grew hot and tight. Magic crackled at the edge of her body making all the hairs on her neck and arms stand up. Shit!

“Did you take my data too and use magic to cover it up to look like a vampire killed those people?”

Grace held up her hands and backed away. “I-I don't know anything about that.”

Faster than Lynda could blink, Pierre had his hand on Grace's throat. “What did you bastards do to my brothers?”

“Stop!” Oh God, he was going to murder the witch and so far she'd been the only one to give them any information at all. “Pierre, let her go.”

Grace clawed at his hand, her face turned violet. The choking sounds she made dampened Lynda's anger some. She placed her hand on Pierre’s back. But he didn't stop or drop Grace. Damn it, she needed the woman alive. Maybe she knew how to help Andrei and Mihnea.

“Don't make me blast you again, Pierre.”

With a snarl at Grace, he let go, and she fell to the floor, gasping. “Fucking witch bitch. Always sticking your pointy noses where they don't belong.” He glanced up at Lynda and his dark eyes were rimmed with an unsettling crimson around the outer ring.

How was it that he was so close to blood-rage? Sure the witches had screwed them over but he was the calmer out of his brothers. Had the witches given him tainted blood bags like at Boris’ place?

If that were true, then the witches, not Dracula were responsible for everything. She shook her head, the knot tightening in her gut. But that couldn't be true. He had known something when they confronted him...had shown all the signs of hiding something...and her witch-demon or whatever the hell she was had picked up on his guilt. She wasn't wrong. Couldn't have been.

Pierre shuddered and the crimson ring around his eyes burst through the brown, drenching it. His skin faded to a grayish-green.

Shit, shit, shit! Lynda dared not use her power against him. It might backfire and hurt Grace or ricochet and destroy the council. Which might not be a bad thing if they were selling demon and other supernatural creature body parts on the black market.

“Can you freeze him?” Lynda asked scooting backward toward Grace.

“No,” she croaked out, “fire, remember.”

But the glare she gave Pierre was as though she'd roast him like a marshmallow on a stick if Lynda wasn't in the way. Zombie-vamp or not, Lynda wasn't moving to let him get hurt.

“Don't,” she warned Grace.

The witch didn't listen. Instead, she let out a horse scream. Fire trickled from her palms. She was going to burn Pierre to ash.

“No!” Lynda dove forward, blocking the magic with her body. Flames of heat curled within her skin. Smoldering.

She screamed. Thousands of shards exploded inwards as the magical screen the elders had hidden behind, shattered.