Blood Bond by H.P. Mallory

Blood Bond

Chapter One

Maverick

“Breathe.”

Taliyah’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle. We’d been working together for a while, and I knew her moods by now. The woman was fueled by cynicism and copious amounts of coffee. Her tongue was as sharp as any blade, a contrast to her outward appearance. Lithe, silver-haired, and gorgeous, she was the very image of a winter princess. A literal ice queen, as soon as she’d be able to retake her throne. People expected a lot more diplomacy from royalty, but when she opened her mouth, it was usually to tell someone they were under arrest. Whenever we spoke, she had a sarcastic quip locked and loaded. She wasn’t the sort to coddle people. So, with the way she was addressing me now, it just went to show how awful I must have appeared.

And it was to be expected because my sister, Astrid, was missing and had been for a week. The only reason I hadn’t immediately gone to Blood Rose Academy was that there wasn’t a way there without an invitation by the headmaster or mistress. I’d learned that the hard way. After I’d received Astrid’s note that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, I’d started for my car, Taliyah taking up the rear, until I’d realized I had no idea where to go. Wanda had then calmed me down and talked reason into me—‘there was no use in storming into the castle when we don’t know what happened. Better to be smart about it and ask the right questions and see if we can figure out what happened before going in with guns blazing’.

Well, now we were going in with guns blazing. Sort of.

Taliyah’s hand settled on my lower back, a welcome weight. I drew in a shaky breath, as though that soft touch had given me permission to do so. Some of the tightness in my chest eased when she touched me. I turned my head to catch a glimpse of her, praying to the goddess that she wouldn’t regard me with the same pity I’d seen in everyone’s eyes so far. The mood in Haven Hollow was somber, with everyone assuming the worst.

They were all sure Astrid was dead.

I could only hope they were wrong.

Taliyah met my gaze squarely, expression worried but not twisted with pity. I let the air out of my lungs, grateful for her steady presence beside me. She barely looked like herself after donning her human glamour. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that she looked exactly like herself, just not the version I’d come to know and care for. Her hair was light brown, streaked through with a little silver at the temples. Her eyes were the same bleak, winter sky blue, but they crinkled at the corners when she smiled now. Every line or imperfection had smoothed out as she transitioned from her human self into a Winter Sidhe. She seemed more comfortable this way, even though the glamour was undoubtedly draining her reserves. She had to wear her human form in public, lest our ruse be discovered. A warlock at a prestigious academy would raise eyebrows. A warlock married to the heir apparent to the Winter Court of Fae? We’d be the talk of the entire school, something we couldn’t afford at present.

“I should have been there—should have made sure it was safe for her at that blasted school,” I whispered.

I’d never wanted her in that place, with all those bloody vampires. She liked the bloodsuckers already too much, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d return to the Hollow heartbroken and sporting fangs.

And now it seemed I’d been right to be afraid. After receiving Astrid’s bizarre letter, alerting me to the fact that she was in trouble, Scapegrace coven had reached out to everyone we could at Blood Rose Academy and all our careful inquiries had only gotten us stock replies that told us absolutely nothing. The establishment either didn’t know what had happened to Astrid or they couldn’t be assed to find out. I had a feeling the truth existed somewhere in between. And now I was determined to get to the bottom of the whole thing.

“You couldn’t have known what would have happened at the school,” Taliyah said.

My hands clenched into fists at my side and my voice came out in a hiss. “Of course, I knew! I didn’t want her going to that fucking school in the first place, and now she’s in trouble! I should have talked her out of it. Now she’s...”

I couldn’t finish the sentence. Astrid couldn’t be dead. I wouldn’t accept that until I saw her unbreathing body for myself. She’d just gotten herself into a bind, and it was my responsibility as her older brother to drag her out of it. I hadn’t always been the best sibling. We’d had our differences, given each other the cold shoulder, and each told our share of lies (with me shouldering the majority of those lies). We weren’t perfect by any stretch. Astrid was a pain in the ass, but she was my pain in the ass, and if someone had hurt her, I’d feed them the shattered remains of their teeth.

It had been a week since I’d gotten Astrid’s letter and since we’d reached out to Blood Rose Academy. A week and I wasn’t any better off now than I had been when I’d first found Astrid’s letter.

“We don’t know that,” Taliyah said, guessing what I’d been about to say. She slid her hand down to clutch at mine, giving it a firm squeeze. “If I’ve learned one thing as a police chief in this crummy town, it’s to expect the unexpected. Astrid may be fine.”

May be.

It wasn’t the certainty I craved. I needed to know that my surly dismissal hadn’t been the last thing she’d ever heard from me. The truth was, I didn’t know how to be a good older brother. Every time I’d ever approached a witch, I bungled it or was burned for my trouble. Astrid wasn’t just any witch, but that wariness remained. I was sure she’d gone to that school simply to spite me.

Another female figure approached us, molding her lush body against my back. I knew who she was without turning to look. She’d switched her homemade shampoos to a mixture of tangerine and eucalyptus in recent years, after learning I’d enjoyed the rose and jasmine she used to favor. Once, the scent of her hair and the press of her body might have turned me on. I’d had a fascination with my cousin for years. That obsession had abated after I met Taliyah, but Wanda would probably always have a special place in my heart. You never forget your first crush.

Wanda pressed one cheek between my shoulder blades, hands winding around my waist. I could have sworn I heard her sniffle. If you’d asked me a few years ago, I would have said that Wanda cracking her haughty exterior was impossible. Wanda was as witchy as they came, only concerned with eking out a life in a backbiting coven, and looking stylish while doing it. Living in the Hollow had changed her, sanding off her pointy edges. She was still a bitchy witch, but she cared for people now, even people I was sure she shouldn’t. People like the gypsy, Poppy Morton, the ghost-turned-live-girl, and the revenant she’d hauled from the grave. But the one I most had a problem with (and I didn’t really have a problem with Poppy, Darla, or Libby) was that damned bloodsucking husband of hers. True, Wanda also shouldn’t have been bothered with me. By all rights, I should have never entered her orbit again after our tempestuous past, and yet here I was. The one thing we all agreed on? We loved Astrid. Period.

And I was set to do the one thing for Astrid that Wanda couldn’t. That had to chafe her pride like hell. Before Rupert had conspired to turn Wanda into a bloodsucker, she could have gone on this mission herself. Now she had to pose as a vampire for the benefit of Lorcan’s former clan, which meant she couldn’t petition to teach at Blood Rose Academy. Well, not as a vampire teacher, at any rate. Wanda was still only half-turned, something that any undead worth their salt would sense immediately. Vampires didn’t sweat or have beating hearts. So that left the mission to me.

After receiving absolutely zero helpful information from the academy, I’d decided I needed to go there myself. With Olga’s connections to the academy and a few strings pulled by our ally, Scarlett Velardi, I was bound for Blood Rose, poised to become their newest potions instructor—a position they’d been looking to fill for quite a while, according to Scarlett, which was probably why they were so quick to interview me. And, to avoid this looking like I was only coming to find Astrid, we’d conveniently given me a new identity. I was now Ignatius Velardi, the youngest child and son to Scarlett and Guy Velardi.

Wanda and I had come up with the ruse—I was the last child born to Scarlett and because she was afraid I’d reach the same ignoble ends as her older son, Vicente (who had been turned vampire), I was hidden away from the rest of the Sub Rosa Coven and raised nearby. Then, once Wanda outed her mother at Scarlett’s assembly and the whole sick business of warlocks being turned into vampires was a thing of the past, Scarlett welcomed me into her coven with open arms, now finally able to acknowledge her youngest child.

Yes, it was a stretch, but it was also all we could come up with on such short notice. And Scarlett had decided to play along with us, no doubt owing to the fact that she owed Wanda one for blowing the whistle on Celestine’s plans and, thus, unbinding the magic that had forced Scarlett to remain quiet about what had been going on with the witches and vampires all along.

Even though I was fairly sure no one at Blood Rose Academy knew what Maverick Depraysie looked like, I still decided to alter my appearance. So, now I was sporting the shortest haircut I’d ever had, along with a thick mustache that felt more like a squirrel had taken up residence on my upper lip. I’d also magicked myself a New Jersey accent.

“Bring her back, Maverick,” Wanda whispered, voice choked with emotion. “I’ll hex you into the ground if you don’t.”

“I will bring her back... if I’m able to find her,” I responded, letting go of Taliyah’s hand so I could turn and hug Wanda properly.

It felt odd, to embrace her. I wasn’t used to hugging anyone, let alone my prickly cousin. Astrid was the only one who really bothered to do it regularly, and I always shrugged her off, uncomfortable with the contact. And, of course, now all those instances came back to haunt me.

I didn’t push Wanda away. At the moment, her feelings mirrored my own. Barely restrained panic and the edge of despair ate at our thoughts at the idea that Astrid could be gone for good. Parts of her would be reborn into another body if she had died, of course, but I didn’t give a damn. I wanted her here, just as she was, just as she always had been—my annoying, little tagalong. I wasn’t sure how to live in a world without my Astrid in it.

And, hopefully, I wouldn’t have to.

My eyes roved the den, staring at each somber face in turn. Half the town had turned up to show Taliyah and me off. They all knew how important this mission was, and what it could cost if I failed. My chest ached dully as I realized I had a coven and a community standing behind me. It was so strange. For most of my life, I’d just relied on me, myself, and I. No one else could be trusted to do it for me. And now I had cousins, men who’d been able to school me, taking my magic to even greater heights. I had friendly witches backing me, even if they were reserved at times. Hard to buck tradition. At this point, I didn’t even mind the blasted Irishman’s presence. He was the only thing keeping Wanda from going completely to pieces and she’d never forgive herself for losing her cool around me.

I turned back to the rippling mirror that was hanging on the wall. It was nearly time to step through and undergo the formalities of an entrance interview. My application had already been accepted, but this was just a way for the witches to put me in my place, silently telling me exactly where I ranked. Well, they could look down their noses at me all they liked. I’d survived being rejected by my own mother. Their scorn would be easy to shrug off.

“Are we ready to go?” Taliyah asked, slipping her hand into mine again after I’d released Wanda.

I nodded and strode forward, testing the mirror’s surface. I almost immediately met pushback, identifying the subtle but powerfully wrought repulsion charm woven into it. This ‘doorway’ was designed to reject the person trying to enter until the witch casting it deigned to lift her spell. It was no doubt a hazing ritual meant to fluster the kiddies who tried to come through. They’d be so embarrassed by their inability to enter that they’d be broken down and humiliated before they ever even entered the academy.

Not me. I didn’t care what that bitch intended. I was Maverick Depraysie, and I didn’t bow to the whims of witches.

My barn owl familiar, Isis, settled on my shoulder, giving my ear a soft nip. Her way of comforting me, I suspected. Then her talons dug through my dress shirt, drawing tiny beads of blood. I used the pricks of pain, the sacrifice of my own life force to violently rip the strands of the mirror spell apart, leaving them in tatters. Then I swept them aside like a curtain, stepping through the glass as if it were the surface of a cold lake. I dragged Taliyah behind me, plunging through the opening before the headmistress could get any more ideas.

And then we were gone.