Page 16 of Hunted

My gaze darts again to the ominous dark door.

‘Because you know proximity matters, or you wouldn’t have been avoiding being in his realm all these years,’ she snaps. Predictably. ‘Because magic, even the most powerful, has limits. Which is why you’re here, requesting double strength.’

The words send a ripple through me that I ruthlessly ignore.

Proximity. Limits.

‘He doesn’t know,’ I say. ‘He won’t know.’

Her mouth twists. ‘You are very sure for someone who once came to me shaking and half-feral, begging me to make you invisible to the one creature in this world who could tear you apart by breathing too close.’

I glare, despising the reminder of my younger, weaker self. ‘I was a child back then. And it was raining.’

‘You’re still a child. And he was ancient, even then,’ she shoots back. ‘And powerful. His kind only gain more power with time. And he’s intent on marking and holding you to a fate you still don’t want. And yet you’re putting yourself squarely into his crosshairs.’

We stare at each other, tension tightening until it hums.

Finally, I break first.

‘Please,’ I say, and I hate the way the word scrapes out of me. Hate that, after all this time, my safety still depends on a crotchety witch and a powerful vampire. ‘I need this to hold. Just a little longer.’

Something shifts in her expression.

Recognition, maybe. The tiniest hairline softening.

‘You’re the only woman I have ever charged double without apology,’ Selphine says. ‘And you are asking for more.’

‘I’ll pay,’ I say instantly.

Earning enough to take far-flung jobs and stay hidden is one reason I chose this profession. That and the constant training I need to defend myself against one of the most powerful vampires in existence.

The vampire whose summons I can’t refuse without risking even more scrutiny.

She huffs. ‘Of course you will. You always do.’

She turns away, muttering under her breath as she reaches for a case locked with old magic. She opens it, revealing three small vials filled with liquid the colour of dusk.

‘Double strength,’ she says. ‘Three doses. Three months. No more.’

‘You knew I was going to ask for this,’ I mutter, not sure why anything Selphine Rousseau does surprises me any more.

‘Yes,’ she replies simply. ‘Your life isn’t as unpredictable as you like to believe. And I also know you’re going to pretend to be outraged about it.’

With the wind knocked out of my indignation, I watch as she pours a measure into a crystal cup, her hands steady despite her scowl.

‘Precautions,’ she adds sharply. ‘You do not spill your blood in his presence. Not one drop. Not even in the same building if you can help it. You do not let him touch your bare throat for more than five heartbeats. And if you’re foolish enough to let him get that close, use a collar to mute it. Your pulse lies and he will read you in one second. You do not linger and you do not let your guard down because he smiles like he’s imagining you undone.’

I frown. ‘You make him sound almost charming.’

A loud pop breaks a smouldering log in two. And I know it wasn’t natural.

‘Charm is a powerful weapon, especially with idiots like you.’

‘What? I deeply resent⁠—’

‘The potion will protect you from his glamour and from his probing of your mind but only for a short time,’ she carries on, ignoring my outraged outburst.

I accept the cup, fingers brushing hers.