Page 35 of Tanglewood Magic (The Three Sisters 2)
Medea stormed forward, not an ounce of fear in her eyes. “We need passage to Rogos. I can pay you, handsomely.”
The man leaped from the deck of his ship and was directly in front of her in the blink of an eye. Circe hadn’t even heard a single footstep or the creak of a board on the dock. “And what will you pay me with, witch? Do you assume I desire money from you?” He leaned toward her and sniffed the skin of her neck. Medea didn’t even flinch.
“How is she so strong?” Circe whispered to Rhys.
He said nothing but drew his wand and moved in behind Medea, backing her up. Circe and Isis did the same, although Isis could conjure barely a wisp of a shadow. The vampire didn’t so much as glance in their direction but held Medea’s stare with unmistakable curiosity.
“Your blood sings with magic but reeks of death and grief.” He scowled as if the last two offended him. “What has befallen you this night… Queen Medea?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. My name is Freta.”
“How?” Circe whispered to Rhys. Medea’s disguise was foolproof. She doubted she’d recognize her own sister in it.
But the vampire was sure of himself. “Your name is Medea Tanglewood, and you are queen of Darnuith.” His strange reflective eyes snapped to Circe. “Your transfiguration is good, witch, but after centuries, I do not trust my eyes. It’s her scent that gives her away. I smell Maelhaven on you. Snow, elderbeast, vultar hound.”
Medea scowled. “What do you want of me, vampire? We need passage.”
“Never fear. You are the reason I came here tonight. Rumors rarely slip past vampire ears, you understand. Things whispered in the dead of night are heard by the darkness, and we are the darkness. I wondered if I’d ever meet you. You’ve been secretive since you took your throne.”
“I had reason to be.”
“Where is your consort?” he asked as if he knew.
“Dead. Murdered by Eleanor and Brynhoff.”
“I suspected they wouldn’t give up power so easily.”
“We seek passage to Rogos. Please.” She took his hands, and Circe cringed. At the touch of her fingers, the vampire’s fangs dropped, and his eyes locked on to her sister’s throbbing pulse.
Rhys raised his wand. “Don’t get any ideas,” he said.
Circe felt a breeze on her cheek, and the wand was gone. Rhys gaped at his empty hand. The vampire twirled it between his fingers. “Don’t threaten me, wizard, especially considering I am your way to Rogos.”
A roar came from behind them, and Circe looked over her shoulder. The dragon had recovered. It flew toward them in the distance. “Fates, we’re out of time!”
“I will require a favor from you, Medea, in the future.”
She didn’t hesitate. “You have it!”
He moved aside and gestured for them to climb aboard. They sprinted onto the boat, and the vampire pushed it from the dock before leaping on board and firing up the engine. The dragon passed low over their heads.
“Why isn’t it burning us to a crisp?” Isis asked.
“It can’t. This is a royal vessel of Nochtbend in neutral waters. If he so much as scratches the hull, it could be considered an act of war. I don’t know that soldier, but I suspect that sort of call is beyond his pay grade.”
With a roar of frustration, the dragon banked, its leathery wings flapping as it soared back toward Paragon.
“Royal vessel?” Circe turned toward the vampire, who was still staring at Medea as if he was absolutely enchanted by her.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Master Demidicus, supreme leader of the Nochtbend coven.” He took Medea’s hand, brushed back the tails of his black jacket, and bowed regally to plant a kiss on her wrist. “Now, if you would join me, I’d like to discuss something with you in private.” He gestured toward the helm of the ship, where another vampire was steering the vessel. Medea indicated for the rest of them to stay back and followed Demidicus to the bow of the ship.
“I need to find a place to lie down,” Isis said in a low, raspy voice. She looked spent, and Circe gave her shoulder a supportive squeeze as she lumbered toward the rear of the boat and the pallets of cargo there.
“What do you think he’s saying to her?” Rhys asked, glancing at Medea and Demidicus, who were engaged in lively and amicable conversation behind the window of the helm.
“Probably telling her what he wants in payment.” Circe frowned. “It must not be too terrible. Is she laughing?”
“Appears so.” Rhys rubbed a hand along her back. “I don’t get the sense that it’s her blood. He could have taken that if he wanted it. Probably a political favor or a magical one. Vampires are phenomenally powerful but can’t perform magic. Maybe he needs a spell.”
