Page 46 of His Realm

“I have a question,” I began, “why are some vampyrs like Zev and Hadrian so much stronger than others?”

She smiled at me. “Don’t confuse magic with natural ability and training. They’re both gifted warriors and I’m sure they’re both far stronger and faster and far more deadly than they were in the fifteenth century.”

“True,” Zev confirmed.

“What about you?”

Her mischievous grin made her eyes sparkle. “I’m an illusionist. I can make you see things you would swear were true.”

I nodded. “I bet you could get people into trouble with that.”

“I could kill others with that,” she assured me. “I could place a glamour on Zev that would make all those but you and me believe him to be Varic. And it’s merely suggestion, my voice, and some magic, but still, quite dangerous.”

“You’ve used that power for good and evil?”

“Of course.”

“You could make people go crazy if you wanted.”

“Yes.” She gave me a slight smile. “I’ve driven many quite mad.”

“But not for sport.”

“No,” she said quickly. “Never for that, only for justice.”

“What did you mean when you said that only you and me would know Zev wasn’t Varic with a glamour on him?”

“Varic made you his. You can never be deceived by any glamour a witch, like myself, would have you see. And of course, being a witch myself, I can see right through them.”

“She’s a witch, all right,” Zev muttered under his breath.

“I heard that, wolf.”

He grunted.

“What is Isabella’s power?”

Sabira grinned at me. “Surely you know.”

I had to think a moment. “She’s so charming.”

“That’s right. No one can tell a lie to Isabella Maedoc. And she can enthrall anyone she meets with merely a word.”

“But only if she wants to.”

“That’s right,” she said, pointing at me like she was impressed. “Very smart. If she doesn’t like you, forget it. And feeling the weight of her distaste is another power altogether.”

I nodded, then sat up from my slouch in the chair to face her.

“Oh, whatever this is, it’s serious,” she said, mirroring my movement.

“I want to know about Zev.”

“What about Zev?”

“My consort,” Zev began from beside me, “I⁠—”

“No,” I told him, my eyes never leaving Sabira’s face. “Who is he?”