The King's War

10. Spellwork

NATHANIEL

I was ashamed. So ashamed. I'd lost control and hurt her. Now I feared there would be no going back from this.

It wasn't even out of the ordinary for me. I'd had human lovers before and I'd tasted their blood in the throes of passion. But they either didn't mind or didn't matter. Avery was neither.

I'd allowed myself to be careless and paid a great price for it. I'll never forget the frightened way Avery looked at me afterwards, like I truly was a monster. When she left to see the doctor, I'd left also, unable to bear seeing that face again. I was thankful that fate had intervened and sent her away to Lydia Bell's for a few days. I was not ready to face her yet.

I'd left her a note of apology and a promise that it'd never happen again. I vowed to myself that I'd always feed before going to bed with her, to prevent my ravenous hunger from claiming her blood another time. It seemed too simple, really.

Except there was a part of me, a large part, that did want it to happen again. The part that enjoyed the rich taste of her blood on my tongue. The part that would happily tear into her in the pursuit of more.

If only there was a compromise. Perhaps Avery could be persuaded to give her blood willingly. I'd always found that sharing blood made for a richer and more intimate sexual experience. But how to convince Avery of that, when her first exposure to the act had been violent and cruel?

If she'd simply allowed me to turn her we wouldn't be having this problem. And yet...

Her reluctance was more than understandable. I don't doubt I'd have grappled with the choice myself had I actually been given a choice.

Everything was just fraught. I had this futile hope that in spite of the chaos of my job, at least my personal life was on the right track. Alas, that too was headed straight towards hell.

Would this one incident be enough to drive us apart for good? What if, during our time apart she decided that being with me wasn't worth it? That she'd rather avoid the danger and leave me to live a normal human life? Isn't that how I'd lost her the first time?

No, that couldn't happen. I had to have faith that it wouldn't. She loved me. She'd allowed me back into her life after we promised to part ways, and that was all the proof I needed. We'd overcome this hurdle. After she had time to settle, I'd call her and we'd talk about it. For now, she needed space. We both did.

With Avery gone, I sequestered myself in my office and devoted myself fully to my work. I'd given serious thought to Balthazar's proposal and busied myself with penning a letter to the witch.

She was a hard one to contact without risking annihilation. According to Sabine Ambrose, she lived in a vanishing house that was inaccessible to postal carriers. She had a phone number that Sabine had access to, but I refrained from having her risk her life by using it. I doubted it would've worked regardless.

So Sabine told me of a way to contact the witch via handwritten notes. It required magic, naturally, so I'd need to ask a local coven for a favor. Not the most enticing idea, but my other option was to send someone to New Orleans and stick the letter on a telephone pole and hope she found it.

The words struggled to come at first. How did one seek the help of one's enemy?

Dear Miss Sinclair,

You murdered one of my colleagues and I very much hold it against you, but I'd like to ask you a favor. You see, your existence is very inconvenient to me so would you please remove yourself from the mortal plane so my life and reign can continue unburdened by your actions? Thanks!