The Compelled (Page 21)

Lady Alice pursed her lips as if to protest, but then nodded once. “Very wel . But I’m involved now and I’m not going to let you disappear from my life again. We’l take the matter to my coven. You know what a coven is, don’t you, Mary Jane?” she asked as if she were a schoolteacher.

“I…I think so,” Mary Jane said uncertainly.

Lady Alice clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You have so much to learn. I hate that this is how we’ve come together again, but trust me, your life wil change for the better. And there’s no need for you to stay in that tunnel. You can stay with me and stil help your vampire friends. But from a distance. The way it should be.”

“They’re not my ‘vampire friends,’” Mary Jane said in a low voice. “They’re Stefan and Damon. They’re good men.”

“They’re not men at al ,” Lady Alice said. “These vampires might be better than most, but I want you to know that, beyond this chal enge, we can’t real y trust them.

They’re monsters.”

“Wil you stop?” Damon interrupted loudly. “I’m so sick of it. It was the same bloody thing in the Civil War, where soldiers wouldn’t trust one another because so-and-so’s grandfather was from Massachusetts, so Northern blood was in his veins. Wel , we’re al monsters, and we’re al misfits. I’m here, and I’m ready to get involved in your spel –

casting, but I won’t do it if I’m going to be mocked and mistrusted.”

Lady Alice’s eyes flashed. “I’ve been around just as long as you, Damon. I could tel you horrible stories about the war between vampires and witches, and they wouldn’t even scratch the surface of why I hate your species,” she said as she crossed to the wel and let down a tiny wooden pail into the blackness below. The wel itself looked like it belonged in a museum, perhaps in an exhibit about the lives of fifteenth-century vil agers.

“Would the both of you stop arguing?” Jemima interrupted. “I don’t care what you cal each other, but I think Mary Jane should stay with Lady Alice. It’s safer. Stefan, Samuel knows you saved her. If we both stay with Alice instead, there’s a smal er chance he can find us here.”

“Of course,” Lady Alice said cool y. She pul ed the bucket back up and held it toward Mary Jane. Liquid sloshed out of it. “Drink some,” she said. “It’l help protect you. Protect—but not save. Al this water does is surround you with goodwil and thoughts. Don’t think it gives you license to do anything foolish.”

“Goodwil from the wel ?” Damon quipped. “Why not charge for it?”

Lady Alice glared at Damon. “It’s not for you to understand,” she said crisply.

“Or to drink,” Damon said under his breath as Lady Alice passed the bucket to Mary Jane.

“Thank you,” Mary Jane said, and drank deeply, water running down her chin. I wondered whether the water real y was magic. For her sake, I hoped so.

For all our sakes, I hoped so.

“Thank you for your kindness,” I echoed, even though Lady Alice hadn’t been especial y kind to us.

Lady Alice hadn’t been especial y kind to us.

The wind had picked up and the sparrows that had perched on the wel ’s roof scattered. I watched them fly above us, tiny brown dots against the light gray sky, and I remembered the mysterious meeting Cora and I had had with Ephraim. He’d had a raven that responded to his beck and cal . Did Lady Alice have a special kinship with these sparrows? With witches, nothing was what it seemed. Even if we were bound in loyalty to Lady Alice, what did that mean? And how would I know whether or not to trust her coven?

“We’l meet tomorrow at midnight. I’l be waiting in Kensington Gore to col ect you. Don’t be late or my fel ow witches may be even less inclined to help you vampires than usual.”

“Kensington Gore?” Damon interrupted.

A shadow of a smile, the first I’d seen from her, appeared on Lady Alice’s face. “Yes. The coven thinks it’s rather amusing, too. It’s just the name of the street, not some occult ritual. It’s right near Royal Albert Hal , where we hold our meetings. Come alone, without candles, stakes, or any other weapons. And be prepared to fol ow the orders of the coven.” She walked over to me and grabbed my shirt, pul ing me toward her with a firm tug.

“Promise that no matter what, you’l do everything in your power to see that no harm comes to Mary Jane. Do I have your word?”

“You have my word,” I said, each word as deliberate and heavy as an anvil.

“Good.” Lady Alice clapped her hands and the wind died down at once, scattering leaves al over the benches on which we’d been sitting. “I’l see you tomorrow night. I’l leave it to you lot to let yourselves out,” she said, nodding slightly. “And remember, we haven’t agreed to anything. But I want to be fair and give you a chance to petition my coven in person. You’l ask them for vinculum. If they agree, then we’l go forward. And if they don’t, then the matter is out of my hands.”

“Vinculum?” I asked, my tongue tripping over the unfamiliar word.

Lady Alice nodded crisply. “A bonding spel . Under its terms, two warring groups are bound together. Only a murder by the other side destroys the spel . It’s a bond created so one side may not turn on the other.”

“Is there a reason it can’t be invoked right now? After al , we’re here. We trust you. We’ve already performed the loyalty spel .”