Prologue: Dirt and Seaweed
Effie (Two Weeks ago)
Effie swirls around the lake, restless. She hates it here, in this lukewarm water, the algae so thick it feels like it’s sinking through her skin and festering in her bones. She watches the sleek black bird circle overhead. She knew it would keep a close eye on her; she had been warned about it, in fact.
Effie isn’t the first spy that’s been sent to this house. They know about the bird and that the vampire only leaves the house at night, and, very occasionally, a few hours during the day every couple of weeks. She’s fairly certain he’s going to work at night—the occurrence is far too regular to be anything else—but no one knows why he leaves during the day.
She is the first spy, however, to figure out that the house is magical. The lake is the closest Effie can even get. That’s why others have failed over the past three years. There’s a magical barrier that stumped them. Fangs don’t see magic like Fae can, after all.
Even now, she can feel the buzz of it rippling through the lake floor, at first a gentle warning until she gets too close—then it becomes a supersonic boom that she’s honestly surprised the occupants don’t seem to feel. It wobbles through the water, pushing her back each time, turning up sludge and Oberon-knows-what-else.
The witch is new though. Different. A break from the monotony. It’s been two days since Youngblood brought her home but Effie can already feel the magic coursing through the woman’s body. Effie is awaiting further instruction, but she’s fairly certain she knows what the mayor is going to tell her. She’s had this vampire under surveillance for years, and Effie is certain the witch will be used as leverage. It’s what Effie would do if she were in charge. It’s only been two days, and it’s obvious he cares about the woman.
Effie kicks her legs, turning up more dirt and seaweed. Minnows dart nervously around her. She hates lake water. Hates her current assignment. Hates the choices that have led her here. Hates that her sense of honor and loyalty have been so twisted by a vampire who couldn’t care less about her kind, let alone the predicament that has placed her so far away from home, bound to someone she barely knows.
She ignores the bird’s gaze that leaves a skittering feeling against her neck, and refocuses on the house, where the witch who isn’t just a witch sits inside, staring pensively out of the window. Can she see her? Effie lets out an experimental whinny, watching the house for any sign of movement. The woman slumps sideways suddenly, and even from the center of the lake, Effie knows she’s no longer there.
The words of her soul bonded come back to her, a source of comfort though she knows they weren’t originally intended to be: Patience. Just…have patience.
