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  “Now isn’t exactly the right time to talk about it.”

  He grasped her forearm. “So when is a good time, Morgana? You’ve been ignoring my text messages and calls. I even tried to Facebook Messenger you.”

  “I don’t have Facebook.”

  “Yes, I know now.”

  Morgana turned around to face him. “Look, we’ll talk after this is finished. Okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Good because we have to go up now.” She’d reached a large pine, climbing into the branches with the agility of a spider. Gareth picked a tree, a few feet away, scaling up the tree trunk. When they reached the treetops, they leaped from branch to branch, scouting through the forest, searching for clues.

  Morgana was about a mile or so into the forest when the scent of human blood wafted toward her. She had been bounding so fast through the trees, she had nearly missed it. She cursed herself.

  Again, she’d been too distracted by something involving Gareth.

  She shook her head, then moved to the area where she could smell the blood. There had obviously been an attack while they’d been talking. Normally, she would have never let something like that happen while she was in the vicinity. Once again, the attraction was too much of a distraction. She needed to concentrate on her job from now on and let her personal life take a step back.

  Morgana arrived at the spot where the scent of blood was strongest. She peered through the leaves. She couldn’t sense any other vampires’ presence, nothing whatsoever. Just two human bodies lying still on the ground. She listened to hear if the attacker might be near. She waited for a few minutes—the vampire had either fed and left or was hiding in the shadows waiting to attack her. She would have to take the chance on the latter.

  She dropped to the ground, landing like a cat, soft and graceful. She walked over to the bodies to examine each one.

  Gareth dropped to the ground beside her. “What happened?”

  “There’s something odd about their bodies.”

  “Odd how?” He crouched down beside her.

  “The way the bodies were drained. They’re pale and deflated looking, every single drop of blood consumed.”

  Gareth rubbed his chin. “Doesn’t appear to be newly-turned vampires.”

  “No.” She scanned the scene. “See the pattern of blood splashed on the bodies? It looks like it was as an afterthought.” She leaned in to have a closer look at their necks. “The humans’ necks had been ripped apart, but from the state of the wounds, it wasn’t until after the blood was drained.” She had seen enough human bodies to know the difference when one was drained by an older vampire and one who had been attacked by a newly-turned vampire.

  But everything at this scene was too neat, the way their necks were ripped apart and their bodies had been propped in a side-by-side lying position along with the lack of blood on the ground. It was if it had been made to appear like the Forest Clan’s victims.

  “Do you smell that?”

  Gareth sniffed. “All I can smell is human blood.”

  “Exactly. There’s a lack of a vampire’s scent or any scent around the bodies.”

  “How?”

  “Wolfsbane. But not too many know about its properties to mask vampires. Only The Council members and their employees know this secret. We’re trained to keep these secrets from our enemies.”

  “Like it masks your vampire side, so you appear as if you’re only human?”

  “Yeah, it usually works in my favor. But apart from you, Alastor, and my parents, there’s only one other vampire in town who would use wolfsbane in this way and attack humans to make it look like the Forest Clan.”

  “Who?”

  “Randalf.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Randalf?” Gareth cursed. “I knew he was a piece of work. Are you sure?”

  Morgana nodded, her eyes scanning the ground around the bodies. Apart from her light footsteps and the human tracks, there were no other tracks on the ground.

  “Yes, Night Dwellers don’t care about covering their tracks. A Council employee knows to cover their tracks. We will do the same when we leave this place. Like Randalf would know to do.”

  Gareth scratched his head. “But why would the new Head of the North American Division of Operations do this? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. But not many vampires could do it. The wolfsbane would weaken them.”

  “Not even the strange vampire leader we’re chasing?”

  Morgana shook her head. “I know every single Primus Vampyr. He’s not one of them. Masking himself with wolfsbane would just weaken him.”

  “What can we do? Can we go to your father?”

  “I don’t think he will believe me.” Morgana turned to face him.

  Gareth rubbed his jaw. “It’s hard to understand why he’d do such a thing.”

  “There was a comment he made the other night about how the blood he was drinking would have been better if it came straight from a human.”

  “When did you drink blood with Randalf?” Gareth sounded jealous.

  “Vivienne invited him to stay for dinner to finish a report.”

  Gareth nodded, but he still didn’t look happy. “I get it, the cravings can be pretty bad.” He eyed her neck.

  Morgana squinted her eyes at him, rubbing her neck, “Could be, or…”

  “Or what?”

  “He could be working with the Forest Clan?”

  “Why, though?”

  “Think about it. It’s his first big mission since he was promoted. The more bodies we find, the worse this situation looks, and the better he’ll look in front of the Council Elders when they decide to eradicate the Forest Clan.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “We’ll need evidence of his corruption first, then we’ll go to my father.”

  “And what happens when we find the truth out about Randalf?”

  “Then we have to stop him. I don’t relish the thought about going against The Council. There’s a self-defense rule stating that if an agent feels their life is threatened or they have been attacked by another agent, then The Council sees it as acceptable to kill the adversarial agent without their permission.”

  “The vampire in the forest wasn’t attacking you, though,” Gareth said. “He was attacking me.”

  “But he was a Forest Clan member using you to get to me. I had to take matters into my own hands to protect both of us. The Council agreed I had taken the right action. As a general rule, though, one does not attack another vampire unless they are instructed to. Remember, The Council isn’t about eradicating vampires, but protecting the vampire race on a larger scale.”

  “So how do we stop him?”

  “Come with me, I want to show you something.” He already knew the existence of the Primus Vampyr, so why not let him know the secrets of the Primus and its lineage, she decided.

  ***

  Gareth gawked at everything in Morgana’s room. It was certainly odd to be in her room. A place he never thought he’d ever step foot in. Being in a person’s room you were attracted to felt intimate. He wandered over to the nightstand where he saw old-fashioned, painted portraits, and yellowed black and white photos on her bedside table. He picked up one of Morgana as a toddler, her small face smiling happily with Vivienne cuddling her close. Oscar’s arms were around them both. Strange to see her as a young child.

  “That one is my favorite.” She smiled, taking the portrait from him, looking down at it. “They struggled to keep me still while the artist painted us. One of the happier times, well before…"

  “Before what?”

  “Never mind.” She shook her head. “It’s not important now. We’ve got other things to worry about.”

  “So why are we here, then? I assume it’s not because you’re going to lure me into your bed?” He leaned against the small bedpost at the end of the bed.

  Morgana’s face was serious. She turned and stood in front
of her bedroom window. She rested her chin in her left hand, supporting her elbow with her right.

  “I have never told anyone else what I’m about to share. I’ve been explicitly instructed not to. For me to do this means I have to be able to trust you. Can I?”

  Gareth nodded. If she were going to trust him, then maybe it was time to trust her.

  She sighed.

  “You already know the Primus Vampyr are difficult to kill.” She turned to face him, keeping her voice low.

  “A normal stake can’t kill them, right?” Gareth replied.

  “Correct. It has to be a certain type of wood. Not many vampires know this, but wild rose along with wolfsbane is lethal to human-turned vampires. Wild rose won’t kill a Primus but will severely weaken them if ingested.”

  “Wild rose?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, it seems silly, but the best way to slow a Primus down is to stab a branch of wild rose through their heart. It’ll paralyze them. Then to finish the job off, you stab them with a hawthorn stake.”

  Morgana walked over to the wardrobe. She opened the door and kneeled. She moved aside some of her shoes, lifting one of the boards, revealing an ornate wooden box hidden beneath. Walking over to her bedside table carrying the box, she opened the drawer and pulled out an old-fashioned brass key. She laid the ornate box on the bed and unlocked it, then lifted the hinged lid to reveal three wooden stakes nestled amongst dried wild rose sprigs. Gareth moved closer, peering down at the three stakes in the box.

  “These are hawthorn stakes,” explained Morgana, holding up one of the stakes. “What I’m telling you is not a widely-known fact amongst vampires. The Primus would like to keep it this way. Imagine if every vampire knew about it. They would start a mutiny uprise against The Council. And that wouldn’t do.”

  “So why hawthorn?”

  Morgana held the hawthorn stake closer to her face. “Like all things, Mother Nature created the Primus Vampyr. There’s an ancient tale that to ensure balance, all things must die eventually. Even the Sun and the Earth will die. Hawthorn is said to be Mother Nature’s way of killing off the Primus Vampyr. For even us, so-called immortals, can’t live forever. It’s our natural enemy. Poisonous to the Primus Vampyr.” She placed the stakes back into the box, hiding them back away.

  “So why keep them here? Why can’t you carry one around now?”

  “We’re not supposed to have them. Vivienne and I both keep one just in case of…”

  “Of who?”

  “A vampire we both know. If Father found out we had them, he’d be the most upset. Every Primus Vampyr knows the smell of hawthorn, even if they’ve never laid eyes on the tree before. It’s instinctual. If I carried one around with me, both he and Randalf would know. Also, we can’t let Randalf know we’re onto him. He’ll become very suspicious if I start carrying one.”

  Gareth nodded. “So, where do we go from here?”

  “I’ll report our findings to Randalf and my parents, then gauge his reaction. Though his lies have been pretty smooth so far.”

  Gareth nodded.

  Morgana placed her head in her hands. “I don’t like the idea of killing Randalf. He’s employed by The Council. But we were close. He didn’t use to be like this.”

  Gareth placed a hand on her shoulder, but what he really wanted to do was pull her into his arms and comfort her. After the other night, though, he didn’t think he should. “I don’t think he’s the ‘great’ guy everyone thinks he is. He told me to leave you alone. If I didn’t, he’d kill Alastor and Ava.”

  Morgana placed a hand over his. “Don’t worry, he won’t be killing our friends.”

  Gareth grinned. He liked how she referred to them as her friends too.

  She smiled back at him. “Thanks for believing me.”

  He turned her around to face him. He placed a hand on her cheek. “We’re in this together. Okay?”

  Morgana’s eyes narrowed and scrutinized him before she nodded. “Together.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Morgana sighed, pacing back and forth in front of the mantelpiece in the Van Wilden’s home. She had called Randalf there to report the two human bodies she and Gareth had found in the forest. The doorbell rang. Morgana took a deep breath, shaking her arms and legs to loosen them up, mentally preparing herself.

  She let out a deep breath before she opened the door. You can do this, she told herself. A niggling part of her mind reminded her she had once thought she was in love with Randalf and probably shouldn’t be so quick to jump to the worst-case scenario conclusion. But she had also learned enough about Randalf during their years together to know she was probably right and needed to push aside dissuading thoughts. Either way, all she knew for sure was what she and Gareth had seen in the woods. The lack of vampire presence was a strong indication of a Primus afoot, and there was only one Primus beside her father in town.

  She opened the front door.

  Randalf stood smiling. He was wearing beige slacks, a short-sleeved, white button-down, and a green and gray plaid vest. He was dressed as if ready to play a round of golf. Morgana bit her lip, trying not to snigger. Over his right shoulder, he’d slung a laptop bag, and in his other hand, he held a large rolled piece of paper.

  “Good morning, Morgana. You look as beautiful as ever,” Randalf said.

  “Randalf.” Somehow, he always made her uncomfortable. She knew she didn’t look great. She had only thrown on a pair of jeans with a gray hooded sweatshirt and pulled her long hair up into a messy bun. Thanks to her vampire genes, she never needed to wear makeup. It was at times like these she wished she could look ghastly without makeup on, though.

  “Come in,” she said, waving toward the living room.

  Randalf stepped through the threshold, glancing around. “Oscar and Vivienne not home?”

  “No, they’ve gone grocery shopping.” Which in the Van Wilden home also included a stop at the blood bank on the way home from the grocery store.

  “Good, then we are alone.” He winked at her.

  Morgana furrowed her brow. Maybe she should have asked Gareth to be there as well. But she had felt she’d get a better response from Randalf if it were just the two of them. Morgana promised to call Gareth if anything went wrong. Though she had only promised she would to keep him happy. She could certainly handle herself against Randalf.

  She followed him into the living room. “Make yourself comfortable. Would you like a drink?”

  “Are you offering, Morgana?” He casually sat himself down on the sofa, eyeing her neck.

  Morgana was taken back. Randalf had never asked her directly to drink from her, even when they were engaged.

  “Of course, I meant a blood bag.”

  “Fine, I’ll take the blood out of a bag,” Randalf snapped.

  “Why are you so crabby?”

  Randalf sighed. “It’s just been a long night.”

  “Why, what were you doing?” Morgana crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Reports and other paperwork. You’re not the only agent on a mission out here.”

  Morgana nodded. His excuse was reasonable, but he should be well-fed and energized after feeding off two bodies. There must have been more to the situation.

  “I want you to stop killing off innocent humans and making it look like the Forest Clan,” she blurted, shutting her mouth quickly. She hadn’t meant to accuse him of anything until she found out more, but his smug demeanor had always been prone to provoke her.

  “What are you talking about, Morgana?” His eyes narrowed. “Since when have I killed innocent humans? I’m an agent for The Council of Order. I don’t go around killing humans just for the sake of killing.”

  “How do you explain the two bodies I found in the woods yesterday?” Her voice rising, “Their bodies had been drained, and their necks were ripped out.”

  “From the reports you have sent to The Council, it would appear to be the Forest Clan. Isn’t that why you’re here?” His voice was cold
.

  “Randalf, the bodies last night had no presence of vampire around them. Only agents of The Council know about using wolfsbane.”

  “Are you sure? I have been going through old files, trying to find information about this vampire who matches the descriptions you have given. I think this vampire may have encountered The Council before.”

  “What are you saying, Randalf?” Morgana started to feel a little unsure of herself. Maybe it wasn’t Randalf after all.

  Randalf opened his laptop, clicking and typing as he pulled up a file. He began reading from the screen. “One of the cases going back about two hundred years was about a clan of vampires who were attacking all humans in the vicinity. They were all killed by The Council agents except for one vampire—a newly-turned vampire who had yet to kill any humans. He escaped the agents, and The Council determined it wasn’t fair to punish him for not having killed anyone. The description of the vampire fits the strange vampire you’ve been seeing.”

  “Does the file say what his name was?”

  Randalf scanned the screen. “He seems to have only ever gone by one name… Ragnorok.”

  “Like from the Viking apocalypse?” Morgana snorted. “Are you telling me the truth, Randalf, or are you just trying to put me off your trail?”

  Randalf slumped his shoulders. “You don’t know how much it hurts me you would think I’m capable of doing such a thing, Morgana.” He stared at Morgana, his hazel eyes, dull.

  Despite herself, Morgana could feel herself softening. She bit her lip, maybe she was wrong. She shook her head. She had to steel herself. He was trying to pull her back in, and she knew it.

  “Please, Morgana,” he was pleading with her now. “You loved me once. You’ve known me for years. How could you think I’d do something like that? It goes against everything we’ve worked for.”

  “I did love you once,” she said quietly, looking down. Now she wasn’t quite sure who the monster was sitting in the chair opposite her.

  “What can I do or say to make you trust me again?”

  “There’s nothing you can do, Randalf.” She held his hazel eyes with her own. It was time to admit the truth to him and herself. “I’m in love with Gareth.”