Clare looked up at the moth again, speechless.
“All Golden Blood has magickal properties of transformation,” Waldo continued to read. “But only the blood of a necromancer will turn pupae into a Dusk Moth.”
Clare finally found her voice. “So mine is not the same as the other missing human’s blood?” “No, it’s a sub-type. All Golden Blood is powerful, but other types are nowhere near as powerful as yours.”
“How come no humans knew of this?” Clare asked.
“Before the Great War, witches and warlocks congregated in small clusters in the forests that used to be thick around Tween,” Waldo explained. “They looked human, walked among humans, and in those early days often practiced their magick in small ways, to heal wounds and treat illness. But when the Great War broke out, they hid their powers behind the guise of their human appearance, to escape being herded into the barren lands that later became Motham.
“Vampires have always wanted to find this blood. Because they can only access their metaphysical potential through human blood, their species was set to gain the most from partaking of it. Let me read this extract to you:If used forgood, Golden Blood shall harness love and loyalty, trust and devotion. But when harnessed for evil it can grant the partaker god-like status, unholy powers of persuasion, and inspire slavish devotion. Vampires who have access to this blood can become invisible at will. They can even warp time and space to create other dimensions if certain conditions are met.”
“What conditions?” Oliver asked.
Waldo sighed heavily. “They must partner with demonic forces.”
Oliver inhaled sharply. “The fucking grimaalds. One attacked me in almost invisible form last night. I’ve never come across a grimaald like that before. Grimaalds could never truly harness their evil powers, their minds were too scattered—that’s how we were able to rid Motham of them. They had no leadership, no discipline. But with the Kominsky mafia involved… and potentially an ally in the human world alerting them to humans with Golden Blood…”
“Yes, such a possibility was whispered about centuries ago. That a few humans would betray their own. An ancient seer referred to it as the Trifecta of Evil,” Waldo said grimly. “Vampire. Demon. Human. Few believed it would ever come about. I certainly hoped that it would not happen on my watch. But with white magick growing, and humans and monsters more freely interacting, dark forces will attempt to destroy the harmony. There are those who still want to return to the old order of chaos, pitting monster against monster, monster against human. Even human against human.”
As Clare watched the moth on the ceiling, the silver and gold of its markings on the black velvet of its wings let out a sudden spray of sparkling light. It was hard to believe that her own blood had created something so magickal.
Waldo took down another volume from the bookshelf and leafed through its thick pages. “The problem here—and thesolution, too—is that as a necromancer, Clare, your blood is a catalyst.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I will put it in plain English, as the description is very wordy. When a vampire sucks a human dry to the point of near death, a small amount of the necromancer’s blood has the power to rejuvenate that human.” Waldo glanced up at them over his spectacles. “In that way, an endless supply of blood could be achieved from only a small handful of humans.”
Clare and Oliver exchanged glances.
“That would make Clare a priceless asset to them,” Oliver said through tight lips.
Waldo sat back and nodded. “Exactly. Clare, your blood is supercharged.”
“That makes sense.” Oliver’s gaze locked with Clare’s. “Remember how quickly I healed? They could potentially feed a vast community with just five other humans. If they had you.”
Waldo nodded. “You are essentially the power source, Clare. Without you, they will not be able to feed their people, and the Dark Dimension will not survive.”
“Good to know it all rests on my shoulders,” Clare said, trying to lighten the heavy vibe in the room, but neither Waldo nor Oliver were smiling.
“This is not the moment for jokes, Clare. You are extremely unsafe right now,” Oliver growled.
Waldo stroked his beard. “You are in danger, yes. But you are also the key to solving this crime. But not alone. You and Oliver will need to combine your skills—and magick—to bring down the Dark Dimension.”
“Great. Fantastic. Just a small task.” Oliver raked a hand through his hair. “So what the fuck do we do now?”
The three of them stared at each other in solemn silence. Suddenly, the moth swooped, and landed on Clare’s shoulder.
“The Dusk Moth is trying to tell us something,” Waldo said. “I think you need to let Clare decide the next move.”
CHAPTER 24
As they walked out of the apothecary, Oliver sensed they were both too stunned to speak. Gods, it was hard to take in, but there was no stepping away now, no pretending the Dark Dimension he had witnessed would just disappear. But how he wished it would. Because through all these revelations, Oliver’s biggest fear was for Clare.
As they reached the car, he rapped out, “My mind is made up. I’m taking you off the case.”
She gifted him her best Clare Doyle glower. “I totally disagree, sir. I need to stay front and center in this case.”
He glowered back. “Did you hear a word Waldo said?
