Blood and Hexes (After Darkness Falls #4) - May Sage Page 0,8

country to country, depending on who was in charge of making sure vamps didn't go rogue locally, and Diana wasn't versed in British regulations yet, but she was fairly certain that blood powder would have been frowned upon in most circles.

Taking blood from volunteers wasn't a problem, so long as the vampire ensured they didn't put the human in danger. Drinking from an adversary, while not entirely advised, was fine in self-defense, too. Blood powder, however? That implied having taken blood from a human and then drying it. Some vampires did it with their partners, or took it from volunteers they paid for the privilege, but others just bought it. Most of the dealers found homeless, friendless, vulnerable people in the streets and drained them to the brink of death, and often, beyond. That wasn't allowed anywhere. The huntsmen had their hands full trying to crack down on blood kitchens.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, judgy. It's procured from someone legit. Fair trade, I promise."

Diana shrugged. "I already drank tonight. Besides, if you're going to mix your drinks, grab a cheap cava, not a Dom Pérignon."

"Come on, it's not like the cost matters to you."

Juniper had a point. Still. "It's a matter of principle, not cost."

Diana sipped her bubbly neat, while Juniper sprinkled hers with red speckles of dried blood, making it look like a Christmas cocktail.

"I'm glad to see you. I thought you were avoiding the continent."

"Hm." Diana wasn't exactly closed off, but there were matters she kept to herself. Anything related to Oldcrest or her brother fell into that category.

Juniper pressed. "You said you were flying to Edinburgh in the morning, right?"

That had been her excuse to refuse Juniper's offer of hospitality.

"That's it."

"You wouldn't be going to Night Hill, by any chance?"

Diana swallowed her champagne and slowly turned to her friend. "Why do you ask?"

Juniper bit her lip, and deliberately took her time. "I mean…you’ve heard about what's going on at the moment?"

Diana held her gaze, hers intense, unyielding, hard. In the reflection of the car window, she saw her eyes were the same deep red as that of the specks of blood in Juniper's drink.

She didn't like being played, and right now, Juniper was moving pawns on a board. She knew. She knew Diana had no clue about what was going on at Oldcrest at all. She was fishing, and planting, treating her like a stupid girl, easy to manipulate. Diana had never been either of those things. From the very beginning, she hadn't been raised to become anyone's pawn.

The girl wisely looked away, wordlessly submitting.

"The Eirikrsons are back." Done trying to prompt her, Juniper kept talking.

She told her about the last of the Eirikrsons—Levi De Villier's mate.

The girl was a whisper, of all things. Whispers could manipulate the weak of mind with their voices, like sirens. As if being a vampire-draining freak wasn't enough.

"Leviathan closed the hill to the Beauforts, the Stormhales, and other houses, because they dared speak against the girl. Oldcrest is on the brink of war. It might be dangerous to go there right now," Juniper concluded. "Even for you."

"Hm." Diana was done with this specific subject. "Now, tell me, how have you been?"

She let her friend chat away, her mind firmly fixed on the hill.

She'd been away for far too long, and now her home could very well be under siege.

Never mind that flight in the morning.

She was going home. Right now.

Extra Luggage

Procuring a decent motorcycle in the middle of the night wasn’t as hard as Diana might have believed it to be. A phone call to an old acquaintance, and the owner of an exclusive dealership overlooking Hyde Park was opening his store for her. Before eleven o’clock, she was on the motorway.

Back when she’d left Oldcrest, the journey had taken an entire week in a coach. It would have been a hell of a lot faster if she’d run, but back then, vampires were still blending in, pretending to be human. Now, cars could get to Scotland in a matter of a few hours. Given her disregard for human speed limits, she should reach the borders of Oldcrest by dawn.

Spotting a sign on the side of the road, she let her bike slow down to a crawl and swerved into the next exit, entering a rest area with a large parking lot and what looked like an old farm, renovated into a pub. It must have been charming, once upon a time, but the exterior reeked of neglect. A