Testimony of Children (Alice Gray Book 2)

36

James's power surged, enveloping us all.

The web of my magic stayed coiled around my insides. It was obvious that this show was for the benefit of the Baron, or, more specifically, for his wife. At first I didn't understand. It was Baron Knyvet that had turned both James and Thomas.

Yet it was obvious that James considered the Baroness the primary threat. If she was the one to fear, then it was her that I needed to focus on.

Her thick, long dark hair was fashioned in an intricate ensemble of rolls and plaits with ringlets falling around her creamy shoulders. Dark arched brows gave her face a severe look, but that didn't detract from her appeal. Crimson lips were pulled into a charming smile that was at odds with the cold look in her eyes.

Her dress was an impressive Victorian style gown. The fabric looked authentic, a deep blue silk brocade that fell over a hooped underskirt in the voluminous pleats of mid-nineteenth-century fashion. The low neckline and short lace sleeves showed the Baroness's creamy white skin off to perfection. A tiny waist suggested that she'd seen a corset or two in her time, but I guess that was to be expected in a four hundred or plus year old vamp.

Her height, around five feet and five inches, made her shorter than me, but she still seemed statuesque with the silky sea-blue fabric falling in waves around her feet. This was a woman who knew how to present herself.

The Baron moved closer to his wife as James's power swelled around us. At first I thought he meant to protect her, but one glance at his face told me that it was the other way around. The Baroness wore the trousers in this relationship.

Stepping forward, she performed a small curtsey, her eyes never leaving the face of the small but powerful vampire. "James, my dear. It's been so long since we came to a party like this. It's all such fun." A flirtatious tinkling laugh, sweet and high, finished the sentence. She had flicked open a fan, and the flurry of movement drew my eyes away from her beautiful face.

I don't know what it was: the dress, the accessories, those coquettish actions and even her voice, but it struck me all at once. It was all part of a disguise. She mimicked dress and behaviour from a period in which women were disenfranchised. It was easy to see her like that when she fit the role to perfection.

I had almost fallen for it, but her husband had given her true position away. She realised as much as soon as the thought flitted through my head. The flash of crimson fury that flickered to my hand joined with James's told me that she had hoped to get to me first. The Baroness was at a disadvantage and she didn't like it.

It was only a moment before she recovered her composure, her eyes returning to deep brown and her features smoothing back to a calm composure that fitted her assumed character of Victorian Lady.

It was then I realised that the disadvantage was really mine. I'd only heard half the history. Even though there was no way that the Baroness could know that, I couldn't detect her power. I had no way of assessing her reactions. I had become far too reliant on my witch senses.

The harsh knowledge of my folly descended, leaving me to struggle with a helplessness that I thought I'd left behind.

Maybe that was the point.

The Baroness and her husband may have no power, but I was the vulnerable party. And so was James I realised, as I felt him bristle by my side, his hand gripping mine with a strength that was more than uncomfortable. Cold, clammy fear washed through our connection, chased by another stream of James's hot dense power as he tried to banish his instinctive reaction to the Baroness.

Thomas was behind us, the electric buzz of his presence increasing in frequency. It was impossible to know if he was responding to the fear that was streaming through James's energy, or if the mere presence of the Baroness was enough to set him off too.