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Wild Knight (Midnight Empire: The Tower #1)(36)

Author:Annabel Chase

I did the only thing I could think of to stop her from completing the sentence. I kicked her in the shin. Even though I didn’t see anyone within earshot, I couldn’t risk her being overheard.

The witch lifted her leg and hopped, howling in pain. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching us.

“I would advise you to stop talking,” I warned in a low tone.

The witch rubbed her shin before lowering her foot back to the ground. “Blind fools they are, but you’re an even bigger one. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I had no intention of working for vampires. I couldn’t say no without drawing more attention to myself.” My gaze flicked over her. “How can you tell?”

“Dark hair. Gray eyes. Flecks of silver on your skin.”

“Liar.” I knew exactly how much magic to release to avoid the telltale silver glow. Not so much that I’d explode like a dying star. Not so little that I’d reveal my species.

The witch raised her chin. “A mother recognizes what she’s lost.”

I felt a pang of guilt for needling her. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago, but a mother’s heart never forgets. I was too far along when it was discovered, so they waited for me to give birth before ripping him away from my bosom.”

I’d read stories like hers. It was the kind of tale my mother lived in fear of every day—that I would be discovered and taken from her to be executed.

“And the father?”

“A former manager here. He confessed and was transferred to an undisclosed location.” She glanced away, her eyes glistening. “It was a long time ago.”

I moved off the path and further into the shadows. “I’d like you to identify this for me.” I tugged the petal from my pocket and handed it to her.

Her brow lifted. “Where did you get this?”

“Unimportant. You know what it is?”

She handed it back to me. “Of course. That petal is from an herbaceous perennial plant called Aconitum napellus.”

“Wolfsbane.”

She smiled. “Very good.”

“My mother…She was adamant that I learn about plants.”

“And what did she teach you about this one?”

I turned the petal over thoughtfully. “It was banned by ancient Rome. If you were caught growing it, you’d be sentenced to death.”

She laughed. “Not much has changed in that regard.”

“That’s because all plant production is under vampire control.”

“Oh, it’s more than that. We don’t grow it here for a reason. The vampires would never allow it.”

“Why not? I would think they would want to encourage protection from werewolves.”

Her eyes darted left and right. “I suppose your mother didn’t teach you it’s good for more than werewolf protection.”

Now my curiosity was piqued. “Like what?”

She lowered her voice. “Neutralization.”

“Isn’t that how it protects people from werewolves?”

Another furtive glance. “And from vampires.”

The flower neutralized a vampire’s powers?

My mind immediately started making connections. The wizard who melted the building also carried wolfsbane, a substance that tempered a vampire’s powers. What if he needed wolfsbane because he was holding Davina captive? If I found the wizard, I might find the princess—and possibly even the stone.

“Did that help you?” Minerva asked.

“More than you know,” I told her. “If you don’t grow it here, where can I find it?”

Minerva licked her lips. “This is important?”

“Very.”

She leaned closer. “There’s a witch called Marguerite. She might be able to help you.”

“She works here?”

Minerva shook her head. “Not anymore. She retired years ago. You can find her in Knightsbridge not far from Belgrave Square.”

“I can’t thank you enough.” Belgrave Square was between here and home. The same bus I took to Kew would get me there.

“She’s been known to help your kind as well.”

I stiffened. “I don’t need help, but I appreciate the offer.” The fewer people who knew about me, the better—for all our sakes.

“Take care,” Minerva said. “We are all prey in a world that belongs to vampires, but none is more hunted than you.”

I fought the urge to shiver. “Thanks. I’ll tuck that joyful reminder under my pillow tonight to ensure sweet dreams.”

Minerva nodded and walked away.

It wasn’t hard to locate the home of Marguerite. Waves of magic drew me to the tiny house tucked away on a quiet street. When I spotted a hawthorn blossom on the door, I knew I’d found the right place. Hawthorn trees were associated with powerful magic and their blossoms were meant to ward off evil. As a child I told my mother if humans had been smart, they would’ve planted more trees so the entire planet was covered in hawthorn blossoms. Maybe then the sun would still be shining and vampires would’ve remained shrouded in darkness. She’d only smiled and said nothing.

I bypassed the house and went to the backyard—and walked straight into a wall of magic. Ouch. I rubbed my nose.

Nice ward, Margie. Let’s see what you’ve got hidden back here.

Without knowing more about the ward, I resorted to my shortcut.

Blood.

I wasn’t sure why, but my blood had a way of opening doors. I suspected it was my vampire blood since my witch friends didn’t seem to possess the same ability.

Using my dagger, I made a shallow cut across my palm and pressed against the invisible barrier. The magic resisted.

I pushed harder.

The wall disintegrated and there stood the greenhouse. The ward had cloaked it from view.

“Well, hello there.”

I sauntered to the door and pushed it open. Not even locked. Why would it be when she’d crafted a ward to hide its existence?

A blast of warm air assaulted me upon entering and my first intake of breath was heavier than normal. Sweet and pungent scents competed with each other. No surprise why. Inside were rows upon rows of flowers.

The entire middle section was bursting with color—red, orange, purple, blue, and yellow flowers beckoned me. An herb garden lined the perimeter.

How much magic was involved in sustaining an operation of this size?

“You broke my ward,” a raspy voice said. “How?”

I swiveled to face the owner. Deep lines creased her ruddy-brown skin and her white hair was threaded into a braid. Her small eyes were the color of almonds. She wore a cloak that resembled a potato sack and leaned on a plain black cane that I suspected was for more than walking support.

I crossed my arms. “Your ward wasn’t very good.”

The crone laughed. “I have a building full of flowers that’s worth a small fortune. Do you really think I’d leave its protection to a weak ward?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. It was no harder than unlocking the door to my flat.”

Her eyes turned to slits. “What kind of magic do you possess?”

“That’s not relevant.”

“Nonsense. I’d like to know what kind of magic allowed you to break my ward.”

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