how?
How would he even know that Winter could see and speak to the dead? It wasn’t something he’d told anyone.
And why this? If he meant to hurt Winter, why would he do this?
Unless he somehow knew this was how Winter got much of his dirt on the other vampires. The silence was pure bliss, but it undermined Winter’s ability to protect his family. This was his edge over the other vampires. It was how he knew who was plotting and scheming against the Variks.
Would this grow worse? Would he lose his ability to step in the world of the dead completely?
Fox had to be doing this. Winter swayed a little and caught the edge of the counter with one hand. Why would Fox willingly do this to him? Pain twisted in his gut like he’d been stabbed, and he pressed his free hand there.
“Please, talk to me, Winter. I don’t understand what’s going on,” Fox pleaded.
“Don’t you?” Winter replied. He moved out of the kitchen so that the breakfast bar no longer separated them. Fox wavered, rocking a little on his feet, as if he were fighting the urge to backpedal. The witch met his gaze with worry and confusion in his eyes, but not fear. Part of Winter wanted to believe him. They’d laughed together. Fox had flirted so sweetly, and there was just something so vulnerable in his manner that Winter wanted to protect the man. Had he been taken in by a cunning act, so he’d drop his guard?
“What have you done to the ghosts? Is this a spell?” he asked, somehow managing to keep his voice low and even while panic sloshed around his soul.
“Winter, I swear I’ve cast only one tiny spell since we’ve been together, and that was to get out of the handcuffs that first morning. That’s it. I don’t know magic.”
“Except that you are a witch. The very witch named in a prophecy about the destruction of my family.”
Fox groaned and threw up his hands. “Except that you have no idea if I’m actually the witch named in that stupid prophecy. Fuck! Anyone can make a prophecy.” He waved his fingers at Winter and the vampire flinched. “I predict that you’re going to stop drinking blood and survive solely on mashed potatoes.” Fox dropped his hands down at his sides and glared at Winter. “How likely do you think that prophecy is to happen?”
“Not likely.”
“Exactly. Except mine doesn’t hurt anyone. The other one fucks over me and your family.”
He was right. His ridiculous prophecy helped to cut through some of the panic, allowing him to take his first easy breath since he realized the ghosts were missing. He needed to stay calm and act rationally.
Unfortunately, despite Fox’s sensible argument, they couldn’t toss aside the prophecy as utter nonsense. They couldn’t risk it. Not when he was sure Damon believed it completely. Even if it didn’t endanger the Varik family, it definitely put Fox’s life at risk.
“Winter, before we went to bed, you said you trusted me,” Fox said softly, his green eyes wide and earnest. “I swear I am not going to consciously do anything to lose your trust. Regardless of your reasons, you saved me from Damon’s instead of killing me. Please, I need you to trust me now. If I’m causing this, I’m not doing it on purpose.”
Maybe he was telling the truth. He had to get to the bottom of this. He had to know if this was tied to the prophecy or just a strange side effect of being around the witch.
“Even if you haven’t cast a spell, it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t see or hear the ghosts,” Winter said with a shake of his head. “I haven’t since I met you, and you’re the only thing that has changed in my life recently.”
Fox paled. He might not have done anything directly, but Winter was positive that the change in his ability was linked to the witch.
Reaching for his power, Winter easily pulled aside the veil. There was some small relief when the gift worked as it always had without a single hitch. He kept his eyes locked on the witch as he stepped into the opening and closed it again behind him.
Fox’s mouth fell open and he just gaped at where Winter had been just a second ago. “That is so cool.”
Winter dragged his eyes away from the witch and looked around the room. There was a ghost at the far side, standing by