BLOOD BOUND: MY WITCH MATE

When Sera awoke, a guard was bringing breakfast, and sunlight was streaming in through the windows. She felt half-alive, unable to use her magic because the spelled chains remained on her wrists.

She picked at the eggs, toast, and fruit-costlier than her weekly pay. Everything tasted like ash.

Midmorning, Lucien entered. He looked sleepless, sleeves rolled, hair unkempt-less a menacing prince, more a man ensnared by circumstance.

He stated, "We need to talk about the archives," without any introduction.

"Good morning to you too."

He was not laughing. "I talked to my dad. He has consented to your obtaining the letter, but there are restrictions.

"Of course there are."

After dragging a chair over, Lucien leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "You'll be constantly watched.

Elara and two others will accompany us. You'll wear the chains the entire time. And if you try anything-anything at all-they have orders to subdue you by whatever means necessary."

"How reassuring."

"I'm serious, Sera. There are vampires on the council who wanted you dead immediately. My father is taking a risk keeping you alive. Don't make him regret it."

She met his eyes. "I won't run. I told you that."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because of this." She pointed to the unseen connection that neither of them could dispute. "Don't you feel it too? How uncomfortable is it to be apart?

I spent all night feeling you awake somewhere in this palace, restless and worried. I couldn't sleep either."

His expression shifted, just slightly. "The bond isn't proof of loyalty."

"No. But it's proof that I can't just leave. Even if I wanted to." She paused. "Do you really think I'm lying? About the letter, about Morgana being innocent?"

For a long time, Lucien remained silent. His voice was cautious as he talked. "I think you have faith in what you're saying. It remains to be seen if it proves to be true.

"Fair enough."

Sera stood, moving to the window.

Unaware that a witch was imprisoned in the palace above them, people went about their daily lives in the sprawling city below. "When do we leave?"

"One hour. Wear proper clothing; avoid drawing attention to yourself.

Sera looked at the wardrobe that someone had stocked after he departed. Simple yet well-made clothing. She pulled her copper hair into a ponytail and opted for dark trousers and a simple pullover. With shackles on her wrists and fatigue beneath her eyes, she hardly recognized herself when she looked in the mirror.

She had been an archivist leading a quiet, secret existence three days prior. She was now at the center of something that could either put an end to the conflict or result in the deaths of everyone she held dear.

The guards arrived in time to apprehend her.

Elara was one of them, her expression professional and icy. On either side of her were two unfamiliar male vampires.

Lucien was waiting in the courtyard in a sleek, black, clearly wealthy automobile. Elara gave him a stern look as he opened the door for Sera himself.

It was a quiet, nervous trip to the archives. Sera was conscious of every vampire watching her through the tinted windows as she watched the city go by. She was clearly marked as a prisoner by the written chains. Everyone in the district would be aware that the Nightguard had apprehended a witch by tonight.

The archives had the same appearance as before.

Normal. Safe. Sera felt a pang of longing for her old life, boring as it had been.

"I need to go in alone," she said as they pulled up. "The basement is restricted access. If guards come with me, staff will ask questions."

"Not happening," Elara said immediately.

"Then how do you suggest we do this?" Sera turned to Lucien. "I'm known there. I work there. But if I show up with an entourage of vampires, someone's going to call security or the police."

Lucien considered. "Elara and I will come with you. The others stay with the car. We'll say we're researchers if anyone asks."

"With me in chains?"

He pulled a jacket from the back seat. "Wear this. It'll cover your wrists."

The jacket was his; it was too large for her and had a scent that made the bond hum with approval. Sera followed him inside, jamming her shackled hands into the pockets.

The main floor was busy with morning researchers.

A few others gave them a quick glance, but most were too focused on their work to notice. With her heart racing, Sera guided them to the staff elevator. Since last night, this was the closest she had been to freedom. Even though I knew it would be useless, there was a tremendous urge to run.

The basement was dimmer and colder. With papers strewn all over the desk, books piled dangerously, and her bag on the ground, her workspace in the corner appeared exactly as she had left it.

"There," she pointed.

Sera stopped Elara from reaching for it.

"Careful. The letter's fragile.

It could break apart if you jostle it incorrectly.

"Then you get it," Lucien remarked.

Sera bent down and carefully opened her suitcase. Tucked under a folder she'd grabbed in her hurry, the letter fragment was still there. The ancient paper threatened to crumble at the slightest pressure as she carefully peeled it out.

Lucien stepped forward and peered over her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her neck, and the closeness strengthened their link. She told herself to concentrate. The time is not right.

He said, "What does it say?"

Sera tilted the page so he could see it. The majority of it is too damaged to read.

But these parts..." She pointed. "Someone is talking about giving Aldric a blade. About making it look like the witch's doing. About not wanting peace."

She watched his face as he read, watched doubt flicker across his features. He didn't want to believe it. Four hundred years of history said his ancestor was the victim of witch treachery. But the words on the page were hard to dismiss.

"It's not signed," Elara said from behind them. "Could be about anything. Any blade, any witch, any situation."

"Dated October 1624," Sera countered. "One month before Aldric's death. And found in records from his private correspondence. The timing isn't coincidence."

"It's not enough," Lucien said finally. "You know it's not enough to prove anything."

"I know. But it's a start." Sera looked up at him. "Someone wrote this. Someone who knew about the murder before it happened. If we can figure out who, trace their connections, their motives-"

"We find the real killer," Lucien finished. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, something passed between them. Not trust, exactly. But maybe the beginning of it.

Elara made a disgusted sound. "You're actually considering this. She shows you one convenient piece of paper and you're ready to question everything."

"I'm considering all possibilities," Lucien stated in a harsh voice. "Which is more than you're doing."

Tension was high between the two vampires as they gazed at one another. Through the relationship, Sera had felt their shared history-centuries of companionship and side-by-side combat.

This was causing a rift that might never heal.

"We should go," Sera said quietly. "Before someone notices we're here."

The trip back to the palace was even more silent than the trip out. Sera held the letter fragment carefully, aware that this fragile piece of paper was her only real evidence. The only thing standing between her and execution.

Back in her chambers, Lucien helped her set up a workspace. He brought books from the palace library-histories, records, anything that might be relevant. He even brought a magnifying glass and better lighting for examining the damaged letter.

"Thank you," Sera said as he set the last stack of books down.

He paused at the door. "Don't thank me yet. We have twenty-nine days left. And this-" He gestured at the letter. "This isn't going to convince my father or the council. We need more."

"I know."

After he left, Sera spread the letter fragment on the desk, studying every word, every pen stroke. Whoever wrote this knew Aldric was going to die. Knew how it would be done. Knew enough to make it look like Morgana's crime.

The question was: who?

And could she find the answer before her time ran out?