Witch Born - LJ Swallow Page 0,64
around. Most turn away again, but Dorian watches us with narrowed eyes.
“Are you serious?” says Zeke. “Necromancy is why you’re in here; why would Confederacy encourage that power?”
Ethan gives him a despairing look. “Because we’re weapons, Ezekiel.”
“Huh?”
“We’re different to others,” I say. “The Confederacy want our powers.”
“I believe that the academy tests people without us knowing.”
“Paranoid bullshit,” says Zeke. “Are you talking about Marcus and his offer to work for the Confederacy?”
“Yes. Has he made the same offer to you?”
“Uh huh. I said yes.”
I gape at him. “Why?”
“Maybe because I don’t want to spend my life in Nighthold?” he says sarcastically. “The shifter council could do with some stronger members. They’re weak against the Dominion.”
“That’s what your family told you,” retorts Ethan. “Don’t you see who you are is another reason? If the Confederacy recruit kids from key Dominion families, they hit the Dominion where it hurts.”
Zeke’s shoulders drop. “Yeah. Whatever.”
I sigh and Ethan looks the other way. “The Confederacy want to kill and control Dorian because it would hit the Dominion hard.”
“But Dorian isn’t involved with Dominion. He’s not interested in either side,” Zeke says. “He’s all for himself.”
“That’s the point. The only way to control Dorian Blackwood is to kill him and make him a golem,” says Ethan flatly. “To show the Dominion they’ve a necromancer too—and that theirs is strong enough to take their weapon and make it the Confederacy’s.”
“They can’t make me!” I protest. “I can’t be involved.”
“Dorian would kill her,” says Zeke.
“With our help, she could do this. The authorities know you want him gone from the academy, and he murdered Eloise’s uncle.”
“And you?”
“And if I regain my strength, I won’t care what I do to hurt someone who hurts me, or a friend.” He cocks his head. “I’m the killing machine they want.”
I moisten my lips. “I think this is more. Marcus hinted that our families betrayed us. I think they want us head to head too. If we kill each other, we’d never fall into Confederacy hands. What better way than to put us all here like rats in a cage?”
Zeke scoffs. “Again, I call bullshit.”
“Then why are you here, Zeke?” he snaps. “How were you caught? What did you do?”
He blinks rapidly and taps the table. “Not talking about that.”
Have we managed to plant the seed of doubt?
“What’s the one thing we have in common, Zeke?” continues Ethan.
“We’re shifters.”
“No. Eloise. You’ve already saved her life once. She’s the one person I’ve connected with here. We’ve both protected her from Dorian.”
“I don’t need protecting,” I retort again.
“Sweetheart, you do,” says Zeke with a condescending smile.
“He’s right. Dorian will come after your blood eventually. Why else do you think he’s trying to seduce you?”
“He is not!” I retort again. “He won’t get a chance.”
“Because we’ll step in.” Ethan runs a hand through his hair. “We’re caught in the middle of their fucking war.”
Zeke chews on his lip. “I don’t care. I’m still taking Marcus’s offer.”
“Zeke!” I protest.
“Aren’t you listening?” growls Ethan. “The Dominion would have you die before that happens.”
“Oh, yeah? You gonna kill me?”
“No. Dorian will.”
Ethan’s words slug me in the stomach. Of the three of us, Zeke would be weakest. He already lost one battle.
Zeke stands. “I’m not listening to your bullshit conspiracy theories. I have an out with the Confederacy and I’m not threatening that.”
“And you honestly think you could influence the Confederacy’s shifter council?” Ethan makes a derisive sound low in his throat. “Shifters are on their way out, Zeke.”
“What does that mean?” he asks sharply.
“I don’t know if you’ve counted recently, but shifters at Ravenhold outnumber the number of witches and vamps added together. These are potent shifters, often here for minor crimes. They don’t go back—shifters rule Nighthold.”
“How do you know about Nighthold?” asks Zeke.
“Because a lot of my family are there.” Ethan’s mouth pulls into a thin line. “You don’t know the half of what happens at that place, and you don’t want to.”
Placing my elbows on the table, I hold my head in my hands. I can’t comprehend much of this, but I’m sure of one thing. There’s a power play between the Dominion and Confederacy that involves us.
We’re too strong for either side to control.
Which means whatever Marcus tells me, I don’t believe I’ll survive either.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Oriana slaps a pair of thick green gardening gloves in my hand. “I bet you’re not used to getting your hands dirty.”
I flap them from side to side as I look at the assembled kids standing in the greenhouse.