Blood Freed (Vampire-Cursed #4)

17. Chapter 17

17

Chapter 17

Mia

I step into the kitchen at my parent’s house, still feeling light-headed from my encounter with Soren. The familiar scent of Mom’s herb garden wafts through the window, grounding me in the present moment.

Rowan sits at the counter while Darick leans against the sink, staring down into a mug as if it holds the answers to all of life’s questions. I guess after a thousand years of blood-drinking, coffee will have that effect on a person.

Poppy, Rowan’s squirrel familiar, perches between them, her bushy tail twitching as she gestures with tiny paws.

“All I’m saying is vampires aren’t exactly known for their stellar decision-making skills,” Poppy chirps. “I mean, who chooses to drink blood when there are perfectly good nuts available?”

“Nice to see some things never change,” I say, heading for the coffee-maker.

Poppy’s head whips around, her bright eyes zeroing in on my neck. “Well, well, well. Good to see you up and about, Mimi.” Her ears flicker. “Speaking of vampires and their dietary preferences…” She scampers closer, whiskers twitching. “Those are some fancy new accessories you’re sporting there, sugar. Very…bitey.”

I touch my neck self-consciously. “It’s not what you think—”

“Oh honey, it’s exactly what I think.” Poppy’s tail flicks with amusement. “Unless you ran into a very enthusiastic mosquito with a perfect dental plan.”

“Poppy,” Rowan warns, but I catch her trying to hide a smile.

“What? I’m just admiring her new neck decor. Very fashionable. All the rage in vampire circles, I hear.” Poppy sits back on her haunches, preening. “Though usually, they try to be a bit more subtle about it. Your boy clearly hasn’t mastered the art of the discreet love bite.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “Are you done?”

“Not even close, darling.” Poppy’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “I’ve got a whole repertoire of fang-tastic puns saved up for just such an occasion.”

“Poppy, behave. Mia’s still recovering,” Rowan tuts.

“Pfft!” Poppy looks remorseless. “She looks fine to me. Aside from her new neck jewelry.”

“Cut it out!” Rowan puts her hands on her hips. “Unless you want me to put you in the freezer again.”

Poppy chitters and bounds on top of the kitchen closet.

“You put her in the freezer?” I angle a look at Rowan as I pour myself a cup of coffee.

“Only for a minute.” My sister shrugs. “And she totally deserved it.”

“Did not!” the squirrel squeaks from her perch near the ceiling.

Rowan ignores her, moving across the kitchen to stand beside Darick, who’s blissing out over what looks like cappuccino. She brushes up against him as if soaking in his body heat before looking back at me.

“So, how was your first night back home?” she asks. “Pretty good, if your new ‘glow’ is anything to go by.”

My cheeks burn hotter. “It was um…great.”

“Sleep well?”

“Very.” I take a quick mouthful of coffee. I can feel her eyes on me. I know she wants some sort of explanation. “I saw Soren last night,” I say quickly.

“The Assembly released him?” Darick looks up at last.

“No. He came to me. You know…through the bond…” I leave the explanation unfinished.

“Through the bond…” Rowan’s eyes widen with understanding. “Like what happened with Darick and me? The dream-sharing?”

I nod, wrapping my hands around my coffee mug. “It was intense. Different than I expected.”

“Tell me about it,” Rowan says. “The first time it happened to me, I thought I was going crazy. One minute, I’m asleep, the next I’m making out with a vampire in a forest glade.”

“At least your vampire had an appreciation for nature,” Poppy chimes in from above. “Though honestly, you both need serious help with your dating choices. What’s wrong with a nice warlock? Or even a mundane accountant?”

“Poppy!” Rowan scolds.

“What? Someone has to say it!” The squirrel’s tail twitches indignantly. “First you with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Bloodthirsty, now Mimi’s got her own fang-boy. It’s becoming a family tradition.”

I ignore her, focusing on my sister. “Did you feel…different after? Like something fundamental changed?”

“Yes.” Rowan’s expression grows serious. “After the bond became permanent, unbreakable, everything changed. Gran says it’s because of our bloodline – something about an ancient prophecy.”

“That’s what she told me, too.” I take another sip of coffee. “She said that now that he’s drunk from me, if Soren dies…”

“You’ll die too,” Rowan finishes softly. “Just like what happened with me and Darick. That’s why he ended up human – we had to break the vampire bond to save both our lives.”

“Oh sure, totally normal relationship stuff,” Poppy mutters. “Just your average dating problems – deciding where to eat dinner, meeting the parents, breaking ancient vampire curses…”

I set my mug down. “There’s more. Soren confirmed that Maxwell’s death was no suicide.”

The kitchen goes silent. Even Poppy stops chattering.

“How did he know?” Darick straightens.

“He didn’t give me much detail, just that it didn’t feel right.” I swallow hard. “It’s Lucien. He’s eliminating anyone who could expose him.”

“Of course he is,” Darick’s voice is grim. “Maxwell knew too much about his operations, about the blood facilities.”

“There’s more to it,” I say. “Something about Maxwell’s bloodline being cursed. Soren says that’s why Lucien had such a hold over him – he was using Maxwell’s fear about the Bloodbane to control him.”

Rowan reaches for Darick’s hand, squeezing it. I remember she told me about his own brush with the blood allergy. The parallels aren’t lost on me.

“The Bloodbane is spreading,” Darick says, his expression grim. “Lucien’s been using it to control vampire elders for years. If they don’t comply, he threatens to expose their condition. Most would rather die than face that shame.”

“But why?” I lean forward. “What’s so terrible about having the blood allergy?”

“Aside from the slow, agonizing death?” Poppy rolls her eyes.

“That’s true,” says Darick, “for those who don’t have access to witch blood or are unable to find a blood match. But even for those who do, it’s seen as a weakness,” he explains. “Any vampire revealed to have the Bloodbane loses everything – their position, their influence, sometimes even their clan membership. Lucien’s been exploiting that fear, building his power base through blackmail.”

“And now he’s cleaning house,” Rowan adds softly. “Getting rid of anyone who could expose his operations.”

“Like Maxwell,” I whisper, thinking of Soren’s pain when he discovered his maker’s body.

“Actually…” Poppy’s voice pipes up from above, surprisingly serious for once. “Maybe he deserved it.”

“What?” Rowan protests.

I glance up at Poppy, who’s flicking her tail back and forth.

“I mean, some vampires just have it coming, don’t they?” She preens her whiskers with deliberate casualness. “Strutting around like they own the night, acting all superior with their fancy clothes and their ‘ooh, look at me, I can turn into a bat let’s have sex’ attitudes.”

Something in her voice catches my attention – a hint of old pain beneath the flippancy. But before I can pursue it, she bounces on her perch.

“That’s not funny, Poppy,” I hear myself saying.

“Okay, I suppose not all of them are complete blood-sucking jerks. Some are pretty cool,” she adds with a nod to Darick. “And your Soren seems…adequate. For a vampire. Even if his bite technique needs work.”

“You’re pushing it, squirrel,” Rowan scolds, but I notice she’s studying her familiar with unusual intensity. Clearly, I’m not the only one who caught that undertone.

“What? I’m just saying some karma’s well-deserved.” Poppy starts grooming her tail with excessive attention. “Besides, you can’t expect a squirrel to be completely unbiased about predatory species. It’s just not natural.”

The forced lightness in her tone makes me wonder what – or who – she’s really talking about. But she’s already launching into another quip about vampires and their fashion choices, her moment of vulnerability buried under an avalanche of sass.

I drain the last of my coffee, setting the mug down with purpose. “We need to talk to everyone. Gran especially – she knows more about this blood match business than anyone.”

“Mom and Dad won’t like it,” Rowan warns. “They’re still trying to come to terms with having Soren in your life. They don’t understand.”

“Then we’ll make them understand.” I straighten my spine, feeling stronger than I have since my escape. “We have proof now – Maxwell’s death, the blood facilities, the Bloodbane blackmail. It’s all connected.”

“That’s not really proof, though, is it.” Poppy has hopped down from her spot on the cabinet. “Just a whole lot of theories. There’s no real evidence that Lucien’s been up to anything.”

“I can help with that,” Darick offers. “I witnessed Lucien’s manipulation firsthand when I was still a vampire. Marcus has been digging up evidence of Lucien’s operations for months. And we’d gathered a few allies within the High Council who had a lot of interesting information.”

“And I’ve got dirt on that creepy Morgan Shadowmaster,” Poppy announces, bouncing down to the counter. “Been following him around. That witch is definitely working with Lucien.”

“You what?” I blurt.

Rowan raises an eyebrow at her familiar. “When were you planning to share this information?”

“I’m sharing it now, aren’t I?” Poppy flicks her tail. “Besides, you never asked.”

“I’ll call Kara,” Rowan says, pulling out her phone. “She needs to hear this too.”

“I’ll find Gran,” I say, pushing away from the counter. “She’s probably in her workshop.”

“And your parents?” Darick asks.

I take a deep breath. “They’ll be at the events company. Mom always buries herself in work when she’s worried.” I manage a small smile. “At least we know where to find them.”

“Family meeting in an hour?” Rowan suggests, already typing on her phone.

I nod. “In the conservatory. We’ll need the space – and the protective wards.”

“And snacks,” Poppy adds. “Strategic planning requires sustenance. Preferably nuts.”

“Great, Poppy.” I shake my head. “At least someone has their priorities right.”