I spend the morning and the rest of the long flight curled up in Lucian’s embrace after my shower. I don’t know where Marius is on the jet, and I try not to obsess over it. Besides, I haven’t exactly told Lucian the latest news relating to our harem and I’m not sure I am ready to.

I’ve been through too much in the last twenty-four hours---hell, since I became a vampire---to dwell on things I don’t want to understand. Yes, there’s a connection there, and considering the events of last night, I can’t exactly deny it forever, but the ones that matter are the ones drawing me to Carver, giving me the information I need to find and save him.

Then there’s the draw to the consort I have with me, Lucian. Lying with him this morning was everything I needed to reaffirm who we are to each other. Late in the morning, an hour before landing, we made love with wild abandon. Another way to promise things to each other, to vow we wouldn’t lose our connection to each other in this impossible fight.

Once we land in New York, we take a limo with blackened out, illegally tinted windows to King and Grove Hotel in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. Lucian paid an obscene amount of cash at check in, and we all used fake names. We’ll be staying in the lap of luxury on the top two floors, but I’m itchy. I need to move around. Reina and I leave Row and Lucian to recover and plan, while on the floor below us Marius is attending to anything Abe might need. For right now, I need a human moment, a way to clear my head. Then, Reina and I can run our main errand.

“So,” Reina says leaning against the bright avocado green of the funky plastic chair she’s sitting in. “You bring me out for chicken and waffles at the hottest diner in Brooklyn instead of staying home with your consort or letting me stay and help Row heal more because why?”

I roll my eyes and take a sip of the Bloody Mary before me. It’s pretty effing good. Then, I bite into the spicy fried chicken before me, the juices drip down my chin, and I’m glad that being Kresova doesn’t mean every foodie joy in life is robbed from me. That would suck. Big time.

“I just needed a breather.”

“Too much testosterone on that plane, huh, bitch?” She teases me.

Reina kicks at me a little under the table. If I were human, I’d probably wince at the heaviness of her Doc Martens hitting my shin. But I’m not, so I move on. “Maybe a little.”

“Marius seemed all prepared to take care of you. You can’t get enough from Lucian---”

“How did you know?”

“Duh, Row. He said there was no way after Abe fed from you that just one vamp would be enough. He was trying to get to the room too, but his leg kept catching. Poor guy, good thing your Kresova heal so well because he’s pretty banged up from keeping the Draugurs away. Took a boulder to the knee too!” Reina’s tone tries to be light but her eyes flicker back and forth, betraying her worry. “So, what was it like?”

“What?”

“Drinking from Marius. It’s not like he’s ugly or something. He’s actually pretty fine, smart, and helped save our lives in Bucharest.”

“And he’s a vampire terrorist who killed hundreds of my race. Not exactly the kind of guy I want to get to know more.” Except, maybe that’s not entirely true. My fingers trace over my left wrist, and the memories of feeding on him---of being so connected to him---race across my mind. “He’s not Carver or Lucian.”

Reina frowns and digs into her strawberry and whipped cream laden pile. “Uh-huh.”

“Wait, I know that tone. That’s ‘you’re full of shit, Aura’ tone. I’m not.”

“You’re so sure that Marius’s just a bad guy. We haven’t had a lot of choices for how we’ve dealt with Morana so far, and neither has Lavinia, but you’ve never jumped down her throat. We were searching for her in France, and she tried to kill me first.”

“But that’s different.”

“Maybe not to me,” Reina admits. “Also, you seem so sure.”

“About?”

“Duh, that Marius can’t be your third consort.”

“There’s no way in hell.” I’m not sure I could accept him as my third even though there’s clearly something between us. Something I’m fighting. “He’s completely wrong for me. He’s hot headed, crazy, blows things up…definitely the reason Morana got the jump on Carver. He can’t be my third.” Despite the fact that he’s lickable, I don’t know if I can forgive him for what he’s done. That’s the simple truth.

“Why not?”

“Because,” I say, dropping my utensils to the plate. “…with Carver and Lucian, I feel safe. When I’m with Marius, everything’s wild, as if anything could be possible. It’s like a wild forest fire I can’t contain. My other consorts are wiser, have so much to teach me. Marius…” I trail off, not sure of what I should say. How much I can reveal, even to Reina.

She frowns at me. “Oh no, bitch. We’re in this together. You tell me everything because, frankly, I can read you anyway. What is it about Marius?”

“It’s like he could lead me anywhere, and I’d go. Carver and Lucian rein me in. With Marius, I feel that instinctual side of me, the pure vampire would come out to play and that I’d love it.”

Reina doesn’t say anything at first but looks down at her plate. She’s met my deepest, nastiest vampiric side. The day I finally admitted to myself I was changing, I tried to bite her and would have if she hadn’t been quick to hit me with a lamp. I wasn’t sure that reveling in my wild side was the way to go. It might be too far, too much. Fuck, I might end up covered in blood like Abe or Morana and loving it.

I wasn’t ready to be that Kresova.

Ever.

Finally, she coughs and changes the subject. I notice her doing it, but don’t comment. Marius’s not the only thing on my mind after all. “So,” she says. “Do you have any idea where to find this Voodoo Priestess we’re here to find?”

“Lucian has a client who runs a set of fisheries throughout New York. He supplies here in Brooklyn and some of his best clientele are the priestesses in the area.” I pull out a note from my jeans pocket. “Lucian slipped me this and said we could go check it out.”

“Is it safe?”

“Mama Lisette was. No Voodoo practitioner wants to stir up the wrath of a vampire scion. Trust me. If they try and attack me, that’s the same as open war on Lucian, and it won’t happen. Besides, we just need to go, find out about the ring, and then hopefully find the woman who can undo its mojo.”

“Super simple.”

“Yeah,” I sigh and sip my drink again. “What about you and Row?”

“Huh? We’re great!” Reina says, but there’s a heaviness to her expression I was expecting.

“Reina, I won’t ever lie to you if you don’t lie to me. Row almost got mowed down by some seriously powerful vamp warriors last night. You were crying when he split off with Abe. It’s okay to admit that it’s hard to be in a relationship with a vampire. I mean, fuck, I’m like Carver, and it’s eating at me every moment to think of him out there, being hurt by Morana. It’s gotta be agony when you’re---”

“Only human?” Reina asks, her tone quiet and removed.

“I didn’t say ‘lesser’ or ‘only.’ I’d never believe that.”

Reina sighs and plays with a long blue-black strand of her hair. “Maybe I’m feeling that. I know it hasn’t been very long, but I really care about Rowland. I might even love him. I know that I’m mortal and he’s not, that in thirty years I’ll be middle-aged, and he’ll be hot. I’m getting used to the idea that one day I’ll be gone, and he’ll still be young-looking and powerful. I can do that because I care about him.”

“But?”

“I didn’t bargain on seeing him hurt. In the plane was the first time I’d really seen him in pain, realized that in this crazy war against the Queen Bitch, I might actually lose him. That does scare me. I can have him outlive me. No way I want to outlive him.”

Reaching across the table, I squeeze her hand. “No one’s going anywhere. We have Abe. We have a lead on how to get the info we need to destroy the ring. We’re gonna end this Queen Bitch, promise.”

Reina grins, and the look gives me hope. “Great, now let’s find a Voodoo priestess.”

* * *

Priestess Rose Marie Efehi is as different from Mama Lisette as I am from Reina. She’s tall and willowy, must be close to six feet tall, with light skin and large, luminous eyes. Her hair is pulled back tightly and a white scarf is wrapped around her head. Hints of white talcum powder are at the edge of her ears and chin, and I wonder if I’ve got her after a dancing ritual.

Reina and I both bow our heads low and then shake her hand.

She nods and say all the right things, invites us deeper into her basement temple. To the side is a large altar with sigils and goblets set up toward the Yoruba gods. Some splatters adorn its sides, and I assume they’re paint and deliberately laid. Even as she’s polite to Reina, she’s more guarded with me. It hasn’t escaped my notice she shuffles sideways and works to keep her back from being directly turned to me.

“I do like having one of the most powerful Kresova in the city owe me a favor, but I have to admit that vampires make me uncomfortable.”

I shrug and try not to take offense. She doesn’t know me, and vampire politics has fallen to shit since the Kresova bombing. Some rules might be shifting, and she has no guarantee I’m not an anarchist or someone who’s out for her blood while the queen’s distracted and the rules are more lax than usual.

“Well,” I say. “The only Voodoo priestess I know knocked me on my ass the first time I ever effing met her. I’m not too trusting of magic, either.”

Reina rolls her eyes. “Okay, supernatural measuring sticks whipped out so everyone okay? Everyone got your point across?”

Mama Rose smiles. “I like her.”

“Never leave home without a human,” Reina replies. “We just need to know where to find who made a particular artifact. If you can tell us where to find the original maker or, even better, how to destroy the artifact, that’d be great.”

“Do you have the ring?”

I shake my head. “It’s Morana’s prize ring. It’s a totem she wears to offer her extra protection. I know what it looks like, so I have a facsimile.” I hand her the sketch I’ve made. It’s not exactly a Van Gogh or something, but it’s good enough for her to tell what it’s supposed to be.

Mama Rose clucks her tongue and frowns. “This ring is very famous among practitioners. It’s close to one hundred and fifty years old. The original creator was murdered shortly after this was stolen from her.”

“Because of Morana,” I supply.

“No because without it---after your queen stole it---the strongest Voodoo priestess who has ever lived, Marie Laveau, finally tracked her rival down and killed her. The ring was the only thing keeping her alive, and it’s truly powerful. If Morana is wearing it for protection, then nothing can depower it. Only the original creator of the charm knows the process to undo its enchantment, the exact ritual to follow. Since Rochelle Montclair has been dead for over a century, you can see how this is impossible.”

Reina balls her hands up at her side. “That can’t be true.”

Mama Rose folds the pencil sketch of the ring I’ve seen in my visions and hands it back to me. “There is nothing you can do. There is nothing anyone can do, except for Rochelle, herself, with that ring. It’s too late.”

* * *

Lucian’s face is severe as I relate the story to him. I want to smooth those lines on his forehead as much as I want to punch the wall next to me in frustration. Marius paces before us, and Row looks vaguely nauseated.

Finding Morana’s personal weakness is hard enough, but it won’t matter if we can’t exploit that. With the ring on her finger giving her a free pass to virtual immunity, we’re powerless. My stomach has been roiling ever since we left Mama Rose’s temple. I’m feeling just as defeated. It’s not like I have an effing DeLorean or a TARDIS. I can’t travel back in time, and just talk to Rochelle, the witch who’d charmed the ring.

“This is serious. Maybe we can talk to Mama Lisette again. I know that Voodoo is very personal to the original spellcaster, but maybe there’s a workaround that this Rose Efehi doesn’t yet know. Lisette is part Aeos, and the fae have their own magics as well,” Lucian offers. There’s a strength in his words, but I know him well now, know his tells.

Even he doesn’t believe his words.

Marius kicks at a pompous, post-modern coffee table in the room and it shatters into pieces. “We’re not losing to that bitch, not this easily.”

“Trust me,” Lucian says, his eyes flashing silver for an instant. “We’re not, but we’re not going hog wild or off plan now. We call Lisette and---”

“Then when she tells us ‘no way, no how,’ we just lick our wounds as well?” He asks.

Row stands and shakes his head. “No, but I’m with Lucian. We don’t panic either. Look, man, I can go downstairs with you and we can check on Abe.”

“He’s napping. Will be till night fall. He’s so ancient that the sun isn’t his friend. Won’t kill him, but it makes him more sluggish,” Marius says, almost by rote. “Doesn’t change the fact that if we can’t destroy that ring, then we have nothing.”

“Then we ask Rochelle how to destroy the ring.” We have to talk to her. There’s no other choice.

“Sure,” Reina says. “Why didn’t I think about that. We’ll just pull out the Ouija board and have a chitty chat with a ghost. So silly of me, let me go get my telephone for the dead.” She rolls her eyes at me.

I grin back at her and wink. “Well, I was thinking more like a séance. But if you’ve got a cell phone, even better. ”