Brave the Tempest by Chance Karen

Author:Chance, Karen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-­eight

“Yes, quite,” Jonas said, in the silence that followed. And with what, under the circumstances, was an almost eerie little chuckle. “Mixing in the blood of nonhumans can cause a bit of bother.”

Everyone stared at him. Anyone else would have been in trouble, maybe even in danger, for that comment, considering the tension in the room. And the unspoken thought on everyone’s minds: if such a thing could happen to Louis-­Cesare, the famed dueling champion of the European Senate, it could happen to them.

And that . . . wasn’t likely to go down well.

Vamps, especially old ones, got out of the habit of fear. Like Adra, they’d been so strong for so long that they began to think themselves impregnable. Untouchable. Over time, they forgot the breath-­stealing, spine-­tingling, horror-­inducing fear that the rest of us weaker creatures have to live with on a daily basis.

Or, at least, that I had lately.

But they didn’t. The apex predator wasn’t used to being hunted, or to feeling that sense of dread. And when he was suddenly reminded, when a wave of that long-­forgotten panic slammed into place, widening the eyes, clenching the hands, making the neck jerk with the desire to stare in all directions at once . . .

Well, most people wouldn’t have taken that moment to make a joke.

Most people, but not Jonas.

Because he had a secret weapon, and it was a good one. When I’d first met him, I hadn’t been sure if he was crazy, senile, or just really, really weird. But he’d gone around saying outrageous things like “let’s have a coup” when talking about overthrowing the Silver Circle’s formidable old leadership and installing himself as the new Lord Protector.

Even stranger, it had actually worked.

Because Jonas wasn’t crazy. Or the doddering, forgetful old man that he played with the consummate ease of a Shakespearean actor whenever he thought it would help. He was sharp as a whip and one of the most powerful mages alive, not to mention the most cunning.

But I swear to God, watching him now, even I half believed the act.

And then he kept talking, I guess giving everyone a moment to calm down.

“For another, it can be adulterated. Magic, that is. The excess energy that some of our people sell—­because they must, you know, or it builds up in their systems and can cause all sorts of trouble—­is often lumped together by the purchasing agent, and can even be combined with the wild magic of the earth, the kind collected by regular old talismans or recycled from charms.”

“Yes, thank you, Jonas,” Mircea said.

“That is a perfectly acceptable practice, of course,” Jonas added. “Since the magic in question is meant to be used for making wards and such, not for ingesting. But when these shops are raided, and the bulk magic is ingested, by the junkies that make up the rank and file of our dark counterpart, it can have an . . . erm . . . deleterious effect.”

“Thank you, Lord Protector—­”

“Oh, no

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