All Just Glass - Amelia Atwater-Rhodes [2]
Her mother was waiting for her in the kitchen, at the antique oak table where Adia had spent countless hours as a child studying ancient Vida laws.
Forty years old, Dominique had been the only child of her father’s second wife. She had survived the deaths of her parents, her sister, a niece and a nephew closer to her age than her sister had been, and Sarah and Adia’s father, and all Adia had ever seen from her was stoicism and the grim acceptance that a hunter’s life was dangerous. Her practical short blond hair had occasional bits of gray and her Vida-blue eyes were perhaps a little more tired, but she still stood as if carrying the weight of the world were simply a task she had to accept.
And at that moment, she wasn’t alone.
Adia’s cousin, Zachary, had a spread of weaponry in front of him and was in the process of cleaning and polishing the collection of knives as Adia walked in. His blond hair and immaculate appearance were a marked contrast with the slightly scruffy features and dark hair of Michael Arun, who was flipping through the heavy tome of pictures and notes on known vampires.
Michael was from another line, but he was still a witch. The Arun line wasn’t known for self-control or following all the rules, and Adia had never quite been able to relax her guard around Michael because of the vampiric taint to his aura, but at least he was a hunter. The Vida and Arun lines had fought side by side for generations, so his presence wasn’t surprising, despite the hour. Most vampire hunters were nearly as nocturnal as their prey.
Adia was startled, however, to see Hasana Smoke sitting stiffly across the table from Zachary and staring pale-faced at the weaponry as her daughter Caryn read a paperback romance novel in the corner. Smoke witches, though every bit as respected as Vidas, were healers. They wouldn’t engage in a fight even to protect their own lives, and they usually showed up at the Vida household only if someone was hurt.
More unusual still was the presence of Evan Marinitch. Nearing fifty, Evan had a lean body that made him seem younger. He was at that moment perched on the counter, hazel eyes brimming with fatigue and disapproval. The Marinitch line sometimes included hunters, but that wasn’t their primary vocation. They were mostly scholars. Though technically kin to the Vida, Arun and Smoke lines, the Marinitch line kept to itself most of the time.
All the surviving lines were represented. Had Dominique called them to witness Sarah’s trial, only to have them arrive just to hear about her death?
How had everything happened so fast? Two weeks before, Sarah had been complaining—softly, when Dominique couldn’t hear—about having to move from New York City to the small suburb of Acton, Massachusetts. Ten days ago, Adia had discovered that Sarah was being socially polite with two of the vampires who attended her school. The relationship had grown dangerously close before Adia even realized it was happening.
Two days ago, Dominique had bound Sarah’s powers in anticipation of a trial for crimes against the line. Alone and without her magic, Sarah had gone up against one of the infamous vampires of the modern age in an attempt to clear her name.
And then … Adia looked at the clock on the mantel. Just twenty-four hours ago, Adia had walked away and let that creature change her little sister into a monster. He had claimed that it was the only way to save her life, and in that moment, Adia had let herself believe the lie that her sister could still be saved.
But twelve hours ago, that monster had awoken and fed, and now—
Oh, god.
Adia had memorized pages and pages of Vida law, and now at last the one that mattered came to mind. The other lines weren’t here to witness a trial.
“Adia, what have you learned?” Dominique asked.
Hasana looked over her shoulder at Adia and her eyes widened. She shot to her feet. “You’re injured—”
Adia shook off the healer’s concern and answered