Henri straightened and turned toward the girl called Inés.
Jacqueline could hardly believe what she had just heard.
A witch?
Did such things truly exist?
The thought struck her like a bolt of lightning, dragging up a memory she had almost forgotten. The night Damien had been taken by that strange man Noël. The one covered in piercings and tattoos, charming in a dangerous way.
Damien had told her then that Noël was a vampire.
At the time, she hadn't believed him.
But now…
He hadn't been lying.
"She's useless," Henri snarled through clenched teeth, dragging his fingers roughly through his hair as he glared down at the ground.
Inés stood rigidly nearby, her body stiff as a drawn bowstring. Her shoulders were tense, her posture rigid. Fear radiated from her. It was painfully obvious she wasn't here by choice.
