“Stakes, if it comes to that,” Regan said from farther away. “I’m boiling water. A good scalding hurts no matter if the flesh is dead or not.”
“Undead. Not dead,” Thema said from her position feeding Edmund.
“Yeah? We can arm-wrestle over that distinction if I live through this,” Regan said. Then she challenged, “Whoever you are.”
“I am Thema. I am a Mithran. We will arm-wrestle. If you win,” Thema said, readjusting Ed’s head against her throat, much like Moll readjusted the baby’s head against her breast, “I will part with a small gold statue of the Buddha that I stole from a temple over two hundred years ago. What will I gain should I win over your puny human arms?”
It hit me that Thema was distracting the humans until help could arrive. It made me want to kiss the vampire, but I figured she needed blood badly right now and I might get bitten for my trouble.
“If you win, I’ll give you an amulet made by my sisters. It lets you see witch magic three different times,” Regan said. “That’s worth more than gold.”
“I will not argue with this,” Thema said. “Done.”
The outer door opened and humans filed into the cottage, slamming the door after, shutting out the storm. I knelt at the fireplace in the main room and coaxed the wood to light. Shaddock, now wearing a shirt, directed his humans to feed my Edmund, who had become calm and controlled enough to not attack and kill. The MOC checked his watch. Made another call. There were more gunshots over the cell connected to the store. Then the boom of the shotgun. No vamps screamed this time. I could hear the human sisters breathing hard, ragged.
I realized what I had just thought. My Edmund. I was thinking and feeling about Ed as if he belonged to me, just the way Leo had said, “My Jane,” claiming me. That started an itch under my collar, but before I could deal with that, Molly called out, “Jane. Call Carmen. She’s trying to get through and I’m betting my nursing blanket that she’s under attack too.”
I dialed Carmen Miranda Everhart Newton, one of Molly’s witch sisters. “Jane,” she answered. “Are you with Moll?”
I put her on speaker. “Yes. She’s safe. So are the children.”
“I’m at Mama’s, spending the night through the storm, and we’ve got four dead vamps outside the house. What the hell am I supposed to do with them?”
“Dead-dead or some other kind of dead?” I asked.
“Burned to a crisp. Mama has some a-maz-ing wards,” Carmen said.
Lincoln paused in what he was saying into the phone and looked my way, interested. “Burned?”
“Mama’s good,” Molly said, pride in the two words, and maybe a smidge of warning for any future plans the MOC might have to harm local witches or to seek vengeance for the death of the attacking vamps.
Lincoln raised one hand in peace and smiled, showing no fangs, but listening in without shame. “My territory has been invaded,” he said. “I owe the attackers no fealty. If they attack my cattle, and my cattle kill them, I got no problem with that.”
“Not your cattle, Shaddock,” a different voice said over my cell.
“An alliance with me would give you protection,” Shaddock said, his voice sliding into warmer tones.
Over the connection, Bedelia chuckled, a knowing laugh not far removed from a TV evil witch cackle. Bedelia used to be the Everhart coven leader. She had kept multiple witches alive through puberty. She was powerful and canny. “That would be a mighty unfair alliance, Lincoln, darlin’. You need magic. I got no need of fanghead blood.”
“The offer remains open, leader of the Everhart clan of witches, as always.”
My eyebrows went up. So did Molly’s. Bedelia and Lincoln Shaddock knew each other? The local witches and vamps had clearly made arrangements in case of paranormal problems, and had done so without me having to issue a direct order. Why couldn’t more Blood Masters make nice-nice with the other paras in their territory? Then I remembered the fact that before I killed her for summoning a demon, Evil Evie Everhart had attacked Lincoln and had mucked up the talks between Leo and the Asheville vamps. Maybe Lincoln and Bedelia had good reasons to make political agreements.
“Back to the bodies. They’re in the open,” Carmen said. “When the sun rises, what’s left will be ashes.”
“The witches of Asheville may not be aligned with my clan, but they are under my protection,” Shaddock said, his tone