Boundary Crossed (Boundary Magic #1)(89)
I expected some reaction from the crowd, but they all remained silent, every eye trained on Maven. “Lex,” she began, turning to face me. “Most of these vampires are aware of your involvement in tonight’s events on campus, but I don’t think many of them realize what a boundary witch can actually do. I thought a demonstration was in order.”
I didn’t understand. My eyes flickered to Quinn, but he had his game face on, giving me nothing. Sensing my confusion, Maven took a tiny step back, revealing Itachi on her other side. “Perhaps you’d like to ask Itachi a few questions,” she suggested.
My stomach plummeted through the floor as I finally got it. She wanted me to press him, the de facto leader of the entire state, in front of dozens of vampires who didn’t know that I could do it.
I stared at her, horrified. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Maven said. “To show me what you could do?”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Quinn take a single step toward me. He caught himself when Maven sent him a sharp look. Conflict warred in his eyes, and I tried not to wince. If Maven hadn’t noticed that Quinn and I cared about each other, she would figure it out any second. I stepped forward. “Of course,” I said. Turning to Itachi, I raised my hands, my tattooed arms still mostly covered by Lily’s jacket. “May I?” I asked.
Itachi, for his part, looked . . . well, baffled, but with gravitas, like Lawrence Olivier struggling to comprehend a dirty limerick. He obviously didn’t know that boundary witches could press vampires, or he would have torn my throat out on the spot. Instead, he was letting the scene play out, confident that none of us had any evidence on him.
Which we didn’t, I realized. It was our word against his—everyone else who’d been involved with the kidnapping was dead. Emboldened, I placed my hands on either side of his head, making sure the tips of my tattoos made contact with his skin.
It took a long time—or at least, that’s how it seemed to me. I don’t know if it was exhaustion, or if Itachi was simply more powerful than either Darcy or Kirby, but opening the connection between us felt like trying to start a sputtering old lawn mower. He opened his mouth twice, probably to ask what the f*ck I was doing, but before he could speak, I felt the connection finally lock into place. He had time for a quick expression of absolute shock before his face went slack.
“Tell me who sent Kirby after Charlotte Wheaton tonight,” I said, careful to use my actual voice.
He fought me for a second, trying to push back, but it was too late by then. He was mine. “I did,” he replied. The room had been silent before; somehow it seemed to become even more silent.
“What did you intend to do with her?”
“Raise her,” he said woodenly. “To worship and fear me.”
Images of Charlie in servitude flooded my brain, either from my imagination or Itachi’s, and the connection between us almost broke. “Tell me your long-term plan for Charlotte Wheaton,” I commanded, once I’d regained control.
“I want to train her to kill Maven,” he said, his voice dreamy.
Now, finally, the crowd did react. Whispers flowed through the group on the floor, but I ignored the sound, clinging to my focus. “Why?” I asked, adding a little extra pressure.
Itachi hesitated for a second—not because I’d lost the connection, but because he couldn’t find the words. “Because . . . because she is more powerful than I am,” he said. “I knew I needed a new weapon to take and keep control.”
The whispers increased, and I could feel a tremor running through my hands. I was pushing my body hard. “Maven?” I murmured.
She laid a hand on my shoulder. “That is enough.”
Sighing with relief, I released the connection between Itachi and me, my mind closing off like shutters on a window. Itachi blinked rapidly, his eyes darting to Maven. He tensed and opened his mouth to speak—
And she reached into his chest and pulled out his goddamned heart.
It happened so quickly. I heard the snap of his ribs, and his blood sprayed over me and those closest to the stage. But it only lasted a second before there was a crackle of magic, like barometric pressure, and his body began to wither and fade, so quickly it was hard for my eyes to comprehend. Within seconds it had collapsed into a pile of sinewy bone. Maven, meanwhile, just calmly contemplated the heart in her hand as it shriveled into a knotty bit of . . . well, it looked like jerky for a minute before it disintegrated into dust. Distastefully, she brushed her hands off on her ugly dress.
I glanced at the crowd. Every single vampire, including Quinn, looked completely flabbergasted. It would have been funny, really, if their stares of disbelief and fear had been directed only at Maven. But no, many of them were giving me the same look.
“That was my own fault,” Maven announced grandly, gesturing at the bundle of Itachi’s remains. “I grew too complacent, it seems. Allowed too much to pass. There will be some changes in Colorado in the immediate future.” She gestured at me, and this time I did flinch a little, my arms going up to protect my chest. “Lex works for me now. She will never press any of you without my express permission,” she added, a warning for me in her voice. “But please treat her with the same courtesy and respect you show Quinn.” She made a show of checking her watch. “There will be much more, of course, but the sunrise is not long off, and I know many of you have traveled far tonight. Please feel free to use my own accommodations,” she said sweetly.