His bushy eyebrows shot up. “Goodness. That must have been rather startling. Was the bed itself on fire?”
I stared intently at the plate of food. “Um... yeah. The sheets and mattress were burning, but the flames didn’t hurt me.”
“It sounds like we’re definitely dealing with elemental magic, in that case, which is useful,” Edward said. “That’s the most common variety among humans of European descent, so it’s not terribly surprising.”
I forced my gaze up to meet his. “Leonides said you had magic, too?”
“Oh, yes, my dear,” he answered easily. “In fact, it’s quite possible that we share a distant ancestor somewhere. Your family is Scottish, I assume?”
“What gave it away?” I joked weakly, gesturing one-handed at my fiery red hair and freckles.
He chuckled. “Believe it or not, I hail from the County of Perthshire in Scotland, myself. Born and bred.”
I looked at him with interest. “Really? You sure managed to lose the accent.”
“Oh, we traveled around quite a bit when I was young. England... France... and besides, one learns to move with the times, my dear. Had I kept the impenetrable brogue, no one would be able to understand me.”
“Aside from other Scottish people, you mean?” I quipped.
“Something like that,” he agreed.
“Right. You’ve got my story now,” I prompted. “So, tell me whatever Nigellus was hinting about earlier. About the Fae, and the missing children.”
Edward sobered immediately. “Yes... the Fae. You’ve already gathered they hold considerable influence on Earth, I assume.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” I agreed dryly. “Like, controlling the police and politicians?”
“The Fae were arguably the winners of the last war between Dhuinne and the demon realm of Hell,” he said. “Earth, not to put too fine a point on it, was part of the spoils. The Fae Court’s only major concession when the demons finally sued for peace was to agree to pay a tithe to Hell—ten percent of all children born in the Fae realm would be sent to the demons as... tribute, I suppose you’d say. And in return, demons renounced all influence and interference on Earth.”
I stared at him for a long moment before speaking. “The Fae voluntarily send a tenth of their kids to Hell? I thought you said they won the war!”
“I said they arguably won the war. They were still quite motivated to ensure that the hostilities didn’t drag on for another few centuries due to sheer demon stubbornness.” Edward dabbed at his lips with his napkin and set it aside. “And, while one might logically assume that they would send their own children to Hell, that was not, in fact, what happened. Are you familiar with the concept of changelings?”
I set aside my shock with difficulty. “I’ve heard the word before, I think? But no, not really.”
“Fairy tales these days are not nearly as dark as they once were,” Edward said, sounding as though he disapproved of the fact. “A changeling is an Unseelie baby exchanged in secret for a human infant. The human children are taken to the Fae realm of Dhuinne, and held there until the next shipment of the tithe to Hell comes due. Meanwhile, the Fae changelings are raised on Earth, where they are ideally placed to gain influence over humans from within. I daresay you’ve already met at least one such individual.”
“Teague,” I breathed, my stomach sinking as I began to connect the dots. “And this is why the Fae are kidnapping children? So they don’t have to send their own kids to Hell?”
Edward’s expression grew troubled. “No, my dear. The current situation appears to be something quite different.”
“What do you mean?” I pressed, trying desperately not to entertain the idea of my son being sent to Hell by evil Fae.
“Fae changelings and human tithelings are infants,” he explained. “The magic of Dhuinne tends to warp the minds of older humans. It’s... alien, I suppose you’d say. Antithetical to those raised on Earth. Our brains aren’t designed to cope with it, except in special circumstances.”
“And these are older kids that are being taken, now, correct?” I asked, seeking clarification. “Like Jace? He’s fourteen.”
Edward nodded. “Yes, just so. Additionally, there has been no sign of unusual activity near the gate between Earth and Dhuinne. There’s only one way through—a weak spot in the fabric of reality between the two realms, located in Ireland. As you can imagine, that gate is heavily surveilled.”
I frowned, trying to take everything in. “So... where are the missing kids being taken, if not to this Fae realm? Where is my son?”
His expression held empathy, but no answers. “That is rather the question, I’m afraid.”
I turned my attention back to my food and beer with reluctance, knowing I’d need the sustenance, despite the fact that my stomach was roiling. When I’d eaten as much as I could, I lifted my eyes again.
“Tell me about your magic,” I said, both to break the silence and to change the subject to something less painful. “My aunt is the only person I ever knew who claimed to use magic for real, and with her, it always seemed to be stuff you couldn’t check independently—things that were most likely coincidence, like getting a new job after performing a ritual with candles and incense, or something.”
He chuckled. “Yes, that is the most common approach with human magic, especially when it’s weak, which it generally is. Rebel that I was, I fear I turned my meager powers toward summoning demons when I became frustrated with my lot in life.” A smile hooked the corner of his thin lips, the hint of a roguish glint lighting his deep-set eyes for an instant. “As you may have gathered, it worked rather more effectively than one might have expected.”
I was intrigued despite myself. Edward didn’t seem like an evil kind of guy. Frankly, Edward seemed like the opposite of an evil kind of guy. And honestly, I was having a hard time reconciling what I’d seen of Nigellus with my childhood image of slavering, red-eyed demons bent on human destruction.
Was Nigellus cool and calculating? Yes. Manipulative? Quite possibly. But in the end, he was just trying to get someone to look into human children going missing, because he apparently couldn’t do it himself for whatever reason. A treaty violation, he’d called it. Unless he was secretly trying to locate the kidnapping victims so he could devour them and pick his teeth with their bones, that motive fell far outside my definition of evil.
“At first,” Edward continued, “I only asked him for advice. But the counsel of a demon is often a double-edged sword. Eventually, I asked for more than simply his guidance.”
“You bartered your soul away?” I asked softly.
He gave a little shrug. “If you like. At the time, I still believed the teachings of the Church. And it seemed unlikely that I was bound for heaven after the life I’d led. I bargained for the thing I most desired. And in the end, I received precisely what I’d asked for... which also happened to be precisely the opposite of what I thought I’d been asking for.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
His smile flickered for a moment before his expression sobered. “The details aren’t important, my dear. Suffice to say, when my life was nearing its natural end, it pleased Nigellus to make me his servant, rather than making a meal of my soul. I believe the irony amused him—perhaps it still does.”
I digested that for a few moments. “You said something about drawing power from him, before he left. For magic?”
“Just so. If Mr. Leonides was concerned enough to call for help from a demon, your power must be exceptional. And I did promise not to let you burn down the forest.”
I tried to decide if that was reassuring or not. “You’re using Nigellus as... what? Double-A batteries?”
He huffed an amused breath. “More like a bank of industrial-strength Tesla batteries, my dear. Though with luck we won’t require quite that much juice.” Setting aside his napkin, he rose and gathered the plates. “Come along, then. Let me rinse these in the sink, and we’ll take a little st
roll outside before the sun gets too low. Might as well get started right away, don’t you think?”
SIX
THE AFTERNOON wavered on the cusp between late winter and early spring, rife with a teasing hint of earth and life on the breeze, but still damp and chilly. I huddled deeper into my jacket, shoving my hands in the pockets as we trudged through decaying leaf litter.
Along the way, Edward had foraged a stout branch to use as a walking stick. I slowed my usual pace to match his, but it still didn’t take long until we were out of sight of the cabin. Tree branches arched overhead—most of them still bare of leaves, but a few tinged green with swelling buds. Birds chirped merrily, the cheerful noise at odds with my dark thoughts and worries.
My companion gestured to a side trail, which opened into a decently sized clearing. The afternoon sun painted the grass and trees at the eastern edge of the glade with liquid gold, and it would all have been quite scenic if I could focus on much of anything besides the throbbing, desperate need to get Jace back.
“This will do nicely, I think,” Edward said, drawing to a halt near the center of the open area. “Now, before we begin in earnest, may I see your necklace?”
I fumbled beneath the collar of my jacket and bulky sweater for the clasp, and handed it to him.
“It’s been acting... oddly, since the thing with the vampire blood,” I admitted. “It’s supposedly just a hunk of garnet, but Leonides told me he’d seen it glow red several times in the presence of magic. Now, it glows amethyst instead.”
He nodded and made an interested noise. His bushy brows drew together in concentration, and he murmured a string of words in low tones as he dangled the pendant in front of his face, staring at it intently.
The stone glowed red, heat waves rippling around it.
“Sorry!” I exclaimed. “I should have said—it also gets hot sometimes. That happened when Teague tried to influence my mind, and also when Leonides first tried to mesmerize me.”
“I see,” Edward said, his attention moving back to me. The garnet immediately stopped glowing. “Quite a useful little focusing device, it seems. It must be fairly old—a few centuries, at the very least.”
“Really? What makes you say that?” I asked, curious despite myself.
He smiled ruefully, a teasing note entering his tone. “Oh... as I’ll happily tell anyone who’ll listen, magical ability ages like a fine cognac. If you want the most powerful magic, look for someone—or something—as old as dirt.”
“Well,” I told him. “I don’t know much about its background, beyond the fact that it was my Aunt Mabel’s. But I can’t help noticing that for you, it glowed red, not purple. Does that mean Leonides was right, and the change is because of the vampire blood used to heal me?”
Edward nodded. “I should think so, yes. It was Ransley’s blood you drank, I take it?”
I tilted my head curiously. “Yes. How did you know?”
He handed the necklace back to me. “Mr. Leonides and Ms. Bright are both quite young. Their blood is not as powerful.”
I turned that over for a moment, because while it might be true of Zorah—
“Um—Leonides is, like, a hundred years old, Edward. He fought in World War II.”
Edward made a small noise of amusement. “Such things are strictly relative, my dear. Ransley Thorpe is more than seven centuries old, and has spent all but the first three decades of that time as a vampire. By contrast, Ms. Bright and your employer were turned mere months ago.”
I looked at him blankly. “Seven... centuries?”
His amusement was still visible. “Is it so difficult to credit, given everything you’ve learned about the paranormal world?”
Another pause, while I tried to digest the implications. “So, basically, you’re telling me Zorah’s sleeping with a cradle-robber.”
At that, he chuckled aloud. “And yet they appear to be admirably well-suited and happy together, don’t you think? I’d despaired of ever seeing the poor lad find someone with whom to settle down, but apparently he was just waiting for the right human-Fae-succubus hybrid to come along. C’est l’amour, as the song says.”
“They... do seem happy,” I allowed, refusing to acknowledge the little pang of... something... I felt at the words.
“Indeed. But now, let us continue before we lose the light. Hold the pendant out so it doesn’t burn you, and let me see this amethyst glow you describe.”
I did as he asked, drawing breath to explain that I couldn’t turn it on and off consciously. The words died in my throat as he wiggled the fingers of one hand in a quick, complicated gesture. Light flared above his fingertips—a smaller, denser, and thankfully less terrifying version of the glowing ball of sparkles Teague had summoned in wordless threat the first time he’d barged into the Vixen’s Den.
The magical light floated up, until it was hovering above Edward’s right shoulder. Stupidly, I glanced at the necklace I was holding. Sure enough, it was glowing purple from within, eerily beautiful in the waning sunlight.
“A lovely shade of violet, as described,” Edward quipped. A flick of his nimble fingers dispelled the floating light into a fading cloud of iridescent wisps. I watched them dissipate, open-mouthed.
“Okay, wow,” I managed.
But Edward shook his head, turning to walk a short distance away from me. “A parlor trick only, my dear. Useful if, for instance, we were to misjudge the sunset and end up trekking back to the cabin in the dark. However, the flashlight app on your phone would accomplish much the same thing, with considerably less energy expended. Right now, I’m more interested in a demonstration of your power.”
“I can’t control it,” I reminded him. “I have no idea how to make it happen on command.”
He waved his hand, and a wall of burning sparkles formed between us, rushing toward me. I yelped and stumbled back a step, at the same instant a feeling I couldn’t quite describe burst forth from my skin. The sparkles met the invisible force and skittered off it, flowing around me as though I were standing inside a protective bubble.
I gaped at the old man across from me. “What did you just do?” I demanded.
“Very little,” he said. “And my apologies for startling you. Unfortunately, until you gain some control, taking you by surprise is the quickest way to feel out the parameters of your abilities.”
This time, I very nearly missed the subtle movement of his hands by his sides. Dry wood cracked, the sound coming from several directions at once. I gasped, whirling around as dozens of heavy branches tore free of the trees surrounding the clearing and hurtled toward me at speed, spinning through the air.
I wasn’t proud of the high-pitched shriek that escaped my throat. Human instinct tried to pull me into a crouch with my arms covering my head, but something stronger... something other... kept me upright. My hands lifted in a flinging motion, seemingly of their own volition. A more powerful blast of energy exploded from my body. I’d only felt its like once before—when I’d blown a heavy door off its hinges.
The hurtling branches impacted the wall of energy and bounced off. Several shattered into splinters. I caught my breath as one heavy chunk ricocheted directly toward Edward’s head. He threw up a gnarled hand with a swiping gesture, and it deflected around him, missing him by inches. The invisible wall of my power slammed into him, sending him back a step. He grunted as his aging body bent beneath the onslaught.
“Edward!” I cried, already rushing toward him. Around me, pieces of wood of various sizes fell to the ground like rain. Silence echoed around the glade, the wind and birdsong eerily absent.
Edward straightened with a wheeze and waved me off. “Good heavens, my dear. No wonder your employer was concerned. No, no—don’t fuss. Appearances aside, there’s very little you can do to me that would cause any irreparable harm.”
He brushed a few bits of wood from his coat lapels and let out an amused breath. “Well, I see we have our work cut out for us. But for now, we should return to the
cabin before it gets dark.”
I stood frozen, trying to untangle what had just happened.
“Would you really have taken my head off with pieces of tree just now?” I asked. “If I hadn’t managed to stop them, I mean?”
His expression was patient. “No, Vonnie. I may be under the protection of a powerful demon of fate, but that doesn’t mean I’m eager to make enemies of three vampires by concussing you with a forest.”
I peered at him closely, trying to read his intent. “Um... good? Because, yeah, Leonides tends to get a bit murdery when someone goes after one of his people. And I really don’t need that on my conscience right now.”
His eyebrows rose. “He does appear to be rather protective of you, my dear. As I’m certain you must have noticed.”
My cheeks heated.
“Oh, it’s not just me,” I said in a rush, not sure which one of us I was trying to convince... or why. “More like—anyone he considers under his care, you know?”
“I’m certain you’re right,” Edward said easily. “He’s a good man, if a rather bitter and closed-off one.”
“Yeah, well—I imagine selling your soul to a demon will do that to a person!” I snapped, a surge of defensiveness rising on my boss’s behalf. The moment the last word passed my lips, I remembered exactly whom I was talking to.
If anything, though, Edward seemed more amused than offended. “It has been known. Or so I’m told, anyway.”
“Sorry,” I muttered. “You’re right. We should get back now.” I cleared my throat. “Can you tell me more of what you know about magic, once we get to the cabin?”
“Of course,” he said graciously. “And with luck, someone will have delivered groceries while we were out. One should not, after all, attempt to learn the art of magic while subsisting on corned beef hash and cocktail weenies.”
His voice grew dry, and he gave a little shudder of distaste for dramatic effect.
Vampire Bound: Book Two Page 4
