Ward fell silent for a long moment. “That’s excellent news,” he replied, his tone warming. “But f-king bad timing. You’re just going to have to keep your wolf under control.”
“Because watching a vampire drink from my pregnant mate is something tolerable under normal circumstances,” Raiden replied, his voice harsh. “Let alone after everything that has happened.”
“I’m sorry Raiden. We’ll chain you if we have to.”
“F-k!” Raiden met Lia’s eyes again, evaluating her reaction. “Lia…”
“I know,” she said with quiet resignation. “I guess I knew it was coming.”
“I’m sorry,” he breathed it, his heart clenching. “I am meant to protect you. My mate. My cub.”
“You are protecting me, Raiden,” she reached out to him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her cheek against his chest. “As much as I can be protected.”
“We will come to you,” Ward said. “Elior has his limbs back now.”
“Alright,” Raiden was grudging.
“We’re very sorry Raiden.”
“I know. I love you,” he added more gently. “Be safe coming here.”
“We love you too.”
“What’s going on?” Lia asked as he disconnected.
Raiden flicked open his social media. The feed was full of images of broken windows, burning buildings, the red and blue of police lights, silhouettes of armored officers against rioters, and vampires.
“The vampires have dropped their glamours,” he grimaced.
“Oh my god,” she took his phone from him, scrolling down the feed. “Oh my god.”
She almost dropped the phone when Lucian’s grinning face appeared on the screen, and Raiden took it from her quickly, putting his arm around her shoulders. They read the news report identifying Lucian as the vampires’ leader.
“He’ll be looking for me,” she whispered. “If my blood has enabled him to do this, he will want more.”
“He won’t get it,” Raiden promised her. “And he won’t get you.”
“I need to read the book,” she said, turning towards it. “There has to be something in there,” she braced her hands against the desk and leaned her weight on her arms, her head hanging forward. He rubbed his hand between her shoulder blades, offering what comfort he could. She drew in a deep breath. “There has to be something.”
“Maybe some protection spell?” He suggested. “Or a defensive magic of some sort?”
“No,” she was grim. “No. Something more.” She stood upright and held her hand over the pages. “I am sick of being used by those stronger than me. I want to… I want… Power.” The last was a command delivered to the book.
The pages lifted to the center of the book, showing blank, and then with words writing themselves shining gold before fading to black. She murmured as she read it.
“Ah,” she whispered.
“Lia?” He leaned over her but could not read the writing.
“It’s just more of the same,” she sighed a little. “How long until your dad arrives? Do you think there’s time to eat something? I’m starving.”
“I’ll fix something,” he kissed her. “Keep trying. You might find something.”
“I will,” she smiled at him. “I love you.”
“You’re just saying that because I’m making you food,” he replied on a laugh as he started down the stairs.
He went to the kitchen, and then hesitated, something catching on the edge of his awareness, something not right. He turned and returned to the bedroom questioning what it was that made him uneasy.
The secret door wouldn’t open.
He tried to release it again, his anxiety increasing. “Lia!” He banged against it.
Something raised the hair across the back of his neck and along his forearms. For a moment, his vision wavered, his equilibrium shifted, and he grabbed the shelves to steady himself. He felt the passage of energy over him, lifting his hair and blowing it back from his face with a roar in his ears that was all air pressure and no sound.
“Lia!” He screamed her name, a ringing setting into his ears as the pressure receded. What was in the book? What had she read, and then sent him away in order to do? “Lia!”
The secret door released, swinging open.
She stepped out, and he seized her against him, burying his face into her hair. “I couldn’t reach you.”
“I’m sorry,” she stroked down his back. “The spell… I wasn’t sure what it would do.”
“What did it do? What did you do?” He held her back from him, scrutinizing her head to toe. “Are you alright?”
“I’m alright,” she told him. Her pupils were pinned, and she looked bewildered.
“No, you’re not alright,” he realized. “Something happened.”
“It’s fine. It’s fine. The grimoire is gone.”
“Gone?” He repeated. “Shit.”
“It’s in me,” she put her fingers to her chest. “I absorbed it.”