Blood Magic: Witch’s Bite Series Book Three

by Foxe, Stephanie

  Elise rolls her eyes. “It’ll be fine, but it burns. There was silver in that bullet.”

  “I can fix it,” I say, taking a step forward. My knees buckle and the room spins. I don’t realize I’m tipping forward until I face plant into Reilly’s chest.

  “You’re not using any more magic tonight,” Reilly says as he swings me up into his arms.

  “You’re not using any—any magic,” I slur. Everything is buzzing and my vision is foggy.

  Elise walks closer and peers down at me.

  “You’re naked,” I comment helpfully.

  She raises a brow and looks back up at Reilly. “Is she alright?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Reilly says, but his heartbeat thumps uncertainly.

  “Lie,” I mutter, slapping my hand against his chest. “He doesn’t know.”

  “Get her out of here. Staci probably has something that will help her,” Zachary says. His brows are pinched together in unexpected concern.

  Reilly carries me out of the room. I distantly hear Elise shouting for someone to bring her some clothes.

  I blink and we're at the bottom of the stairs. I'm not sure if Reilly moved vampire fast, or if I just passed out for a minute. I can smell the magic inside of him, and if I had any strength left, I'd try to take it.

  "You need to feed again, don't you?" He asks.

  I nod slowly, my cheek sliding against his rough body armor. "Not gonna lose control, but the vampire magic, I think it took from me while I was using it."

  I let go of the magic as much as I can. The sounds fade into the background and the overbearing scents stop making my nose itch.

  Reilly lowers my feet to the ground and helps me stand. I blink and look around. We're outside now by the van. No one else is around, but I can see Agent Stocke talking to Ivy and Commander Driver near the entrance.

  "It really is a curse." A laugh bubbles up in my throat, and I bite my lips to try to keep from losing it. "I never thought I'd be made weaker by stealing magic from someone."

  "It's not making you weaker," Reilly says. "You just don't have any control. You dump all of your energy into every move."

  "I did what I had to—”

  "That's not the point I'm trying to make," Reilly interrupts. "You need to be trained. You're using magic you weren't born with. You've never been taught how to control it or channel it. Anyone, even a vampire, can wear themselves out like this. You understood that with your healing magic, why did you think this would be any different?"

  I sit down on the edge of the van. "It was easier to feel my limits with that. I also hadn't taken much of the magic, I thought that was why it was so hard to use."

  "What you did today was stupid," Reilly chastises. His heart is thumping with annoyance.

  "I don't need a lecture," I snap. "You're the one that wanted to test my limits under pressure. Guess we just found out."

  "I meant running in after Hawking. I didn't bring you into this to have you get killed because you're reckless."

  I stand abruptly. "I wasn't going to watch her die. The risk was minimal anyhow, I took that guy completely by surprise."

  "You had no idea who else was in that room, and you could have gotten shot by your own team members," Reilly says, shoving his finger in my face.

  I slap it away. "You ran right in after me."

  "Because I protect my investments."

  Staci rounds the front of the van, then stops at the expression on our faces.

  "I was told you needed me?" She asks, adjusting her glasses primly.

  "You were told wrong, I'm fine," I say.

  "You look like you're about to keel over and die, but if you say so," Staci says with a tight smile before turning and walking away toward Agent Stocke.

  “What a bitch,” I mutter.

  "You're going to feed tonight," Reilly says quietly.

  "You offering your wrist up again?" I ask, hunger swirling in my gut.

  Reilly crosses his arms. "No, but I have found a volunteer."

  "An actual volunteer, or someone who has no idea what they're getting themselves into and has no choice in the matter?" I ask.

  "He'll be in the hotel room at five fifteen a.m. Don’t use any more magic before then.”

  “Fine,” I mutter, wrapping my arms around myself.

  Reilly stalks off, but Elise comes and finds me after a few minutes.

  “Are you going to be alright to join us for dinner? Or an early breakfast, I’m not sure what to call it when you’re eating at two a.m.,” she asks.

  I’m still shaky and my mind is scattered, but food does sound good. I don’t know what else I’ll do for the next few hours if I don’t join them, so I nod.

  “Sure, I’ll be fine.”

  “Alright,” Elise says, clearly skeptical. “Let’s go, I’ll drive you.”

  * * *

  “It’s tradition,” Ivy says as she pushes a plate toward me. She’s the only person still dressed in her suit. She seems comfortable in it though, like it’s just how she prefers to be. “I started it in the Academy, back when I was with the FBI. Eating together, especially after a night like this, helps.”

  I grab the plate and pile a few pieces of pizza on it. “So this is meant to be family bonding or something?”

  Ivy shrugs. “Sure, but it’s practical too. We need to discuss what was found and clean our weapons.”

  I sit down next to Elise. She’s the only person here that I am even remotely comfortable with. She’s on her fourth piece of pizza already. I guess the shift really does increase a were’s appetite.

  Everyone else is already settled in. Hu and Corinne are discussing something about an upcoming council summit. I don’t pay attention to what the councils get up to, and I don’t care to start, so I tune them out.

  “How’s your leg?” I ask.

  Elise shrugs. “I think there’s still a speck of silver in there somewhere, but it’s healing so it’ll work itself out tonight.”

  “If it doesn’t, let me know. I can get it out,” I say taking a bite of my pizza before it gets cold.

  “So you really can heal?” She asks.

  “Yeah, nothing like what a real healer could do, but simple stuff like that is easy enough.”

  “You definitely packed a punch with that electric magic,” she says with a short laugh and a shake of her head. “To be honest, I was kind of doubting whether or not you could actually use that kind of magic until I saw it.”

  “Well, I’m obviously not great with it.”

  “You moved really damn fast too. Is that some kind of physical magic? It wasn’t part of what Stocke mentioned.”

  Elise has a way of asking not-so-innocent questions out of nowhere. I chew the bite of pizza in my mouth and swallow uncomfortably. Cook is staring at us from across the table, not even pretending to not be listening in.

  “Um, yeah. Some kind.” I shrug and grab another piece of pepperoni and jalapeño from the box. “I’ve never tried this combination on pizza before, but whoever ordered this was a genius. I’ll never order anything else.”

  “I am, indeed, a genius,” Hu says from the end of the table, toasting me with his own slice of pizza.

  Agent Stocke walks in and the conversation dies down. She’s dressed down as well in a long-sleeved blouse and jeans. Her curly blonde hair is out of its bun. She grabs a plate and some pizza, then sits down at the head of the table.

  “Tonight, we arrested three members of the NWR. A few were killed instead of being captured,” Stocke says before taking a bite of pizza. “The raid didn’t go perfectly, but everyone made it home, and no one on our side was seriously injured. Good job.”

  “Hell yeah,” Elise says, lifting her can of soda in a toast. Everyone lifts whatever they’re holding, pizza or drink, and sounds their agreement.

  “Now, this particular cell seems to be relatively new. From what we found, it seems to confirm that they were more of a recruitment center than anything else. We did, however, find bom
b-making materials and information on several targets around the city. The suspects that were arrested are being interrogated, but none of them are offering up any information yet,” Stocke says.

  “Was there any information on their computers?” Hu asks.

  Stocke shakes her head. “They were able to destroy the hard drives before we got to them.”

  “What’s next?” Ivy asks.

  “We have a flight to catch tomorrow evening. We’re headed to Las Vegas,” Stocke says.

  “Vegas?” Cook asks, perking up.

  Stocke nods. “We received a tip that Martinez may be in the city sometime in the next week or two.”

  “Any other information?” I ask, leaning forward, my heartbeat kicking into overdrive.

  Stocke shakes her head. “Not on Martinez. You can look through all the intelligence we have on NWR activity in Las Vegas on the flight.”

  I hadn’t thought there was any chance we might catch him quickly, but if we already know what city he’s in, maybe there is hope. I stand to throw my plate away and Elise hands me her plate as well, leaning back in her seat and patting her stomach in satisfaction.

  I throw the trash away but have to pause at the unexpected jolt of pain that runs through my arm at the movement. It’s been a couple of days since I’ve been able to apply the salve to my welts. I need something tonight, this is getting ridiculous.

  “You gonna pass out on us again, Carter?” Cook asks from across the room. His tone suggests he hopes I do.

  I roll my eyes and walk back to my chair, ignoring the slight dizziness that accompanies the movement.

  “It’s not a permanent fix, but Staci does have some salves that can help with the pain,” Corinne says, her eyes full of concern.

  “The traditional salve will help for now, but I need something stronger to really make a difference, and I don’t have anything to brew what I need,” I say, wiping some grease I had missed off my fingers.

  “Can Olivia just borrow Staci’s cauldron and brew whatever she needs?” Hu asks as he pops the trigger pin out of his gun.

  “No.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Staci and I say in unison. I turn and glare at her and she’s frowning at me like it was my idea.

  “She’s not touching my cauldrons,” Staci bites out like the idea disgusts her. I absolutely understand because I wouldn’t let another witch near my cauldrons either, but her tone is a little much.

  Hu looks at us, clearly amused. “Sorry I suggested it.”

  “I do have a basic healing salve with me,” Staci says, patting her napkin on her mouth before standing and walking over to her briefcase. She unzips it and picks up a blue tub that is neatly labeled. “This should last you a couple of days. I’ll make more once we are at our next location.”

  I walk over and take the tub. Staci looks smug about it, and I’m tempted to throw it back in her face, but this is one of those moments where it’s really not worth it to let my pride get in the way.

  “Thanks,” I say with a flat expression.

  “No problem,” Staci says with a smile as she walks back to the table.

  Once it’s clear everyone is done eating, the remaining pizza gets cleared away. We pull out our guns, carefully clearing and checking them before laying them on the table.

  Ivy had given me a cleaning kit along with the pistol. I grab it and go through the familiar motions of disassembling the Glock and laying out each piece. The minty smell of the lubricant takes me back five years.

  I had spent most Sunday afternoons with Brunson and his father at the shooting range, always followed by cleaning the guns, then the family dinner. It was their version of church.

  I look up to find Zachary staring at me and I pause, brush in hand. It takes him a moment to turn back to his gun. I’m sure he’s reliving the same memories I am. It’s bittersweet for me, I have no idea what it means to him anymore.

  8

  My hands are trembling as I pack up my gun and cleaning supplies. It’s just past five am. I don’t have long to get back to the room, and honestly, the feeding can’t come soon enough. The pizza helped with some of the dizziness, but I still feel completely drained.

  I try to slip out of the room unnoticed, but Corinne follows me into the hallway.

  “We need to talk soon, about what’s going on,” she says quietly.

  “I know, there’s just nothing I can do about it today. I need to rest,” I say, taking another couple of steps toward the elevator so she doesn’t think I’m willing to linger.

  “Then we talk as soon as we get to Vegas, alright?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  The elevator dings and opens. I turn away and hurry inside, punching the button for floor six. Corinne stands in the hallway, watching me as the doors slide shut. I slump back against the wall and put my face in my hands. The welts are hurting more than I want to admit.

  The elevator arrives at the sixth floor and I step out but pause in the hallway. I don’t know who I’m going to be meeting tonight, but I don’t want to go in there this weak.

  I slip out of my jacket and crack open the little container. I can smell the sweet, light scent of aloe and some kind of mint. It’s nothing like my healing salve, but as I dip my fingers in the cool cream I can sense that there is magic brewed into it.

  The first swipe of the cream cools the welt considerably, but then it and the skin around it starts to go numb. I sigh, if she had brewed the healing salve properly it wouldn’t need to numb anything. It would just heal it.

  I spread it across my hands and up my arms regardless. I can’t reach everything without undressing in the hallway, but the pain has already eased considerably. I feel a little cold and a little sticky now, but it’s a welcome change from the constant aching.

  I pull my jacket back on carefully and shove the tub in the pocket. The room is a short walk down the hall, but far enough for the nerves to settle in. I don’t know what I’m going to do if the poor sap Reilly has in there is afraid or begs me not to feed from them.

  The door swings open as I’m pulling out my keycard and Reilly stands in the doorway, arms crossed.

  “You’re late,” he says before sniffing carefully, then frowning. “Why do you smell like you bathed in toothpaste?”

  “Because Staci is a shitty hedgewitch,” I say, crossing my arms self consciously.

  Reilly raises a brow, but steps aside and waves me into the room. I can smell the volunteer as soon as I step in and hear a slow and steady heartbeat. Whoever it is, they’re not nervous like I feared. At least not yet.

  A man about the same height as Reilly, but with short black hair is currently leaning against the far wall, watching me. He is a bit pretty for a man, but he holds himself with an easy confidence. He has light hazel eyes that are currently working their way up to my face from my feet, and cheekbones that could cut glass. The light stubble across his jaw keeps him from looking too feminine, but he wouldn’t be out of place on a catwalk.

  “Olivia, it’s lovely to meet you,” he says, strolling toward me with a predatory smile. “I’m Damien Black.”

  For someone who’s about to be food, he’s doing a good job of acting like he’s in control of the situation.

  “Is that your real name, or did you change it to try to sound like you’re in a bad vampire romance novel?” I ask as I reach out to shake the hand he has held out.

  His smile falters, but his handshake does not.

  “You’ll have to blame my mother for that one, perhaps she had bad taste in books.”

  “Be nice, Olivia,” Reilly chastises.

  I smile at Damien, but that doesn’t seem to help exactly.

  “Reilly said you required my assistance, and while I am happy to help,” he pauses, his eyes flicking down to my lips, “in any way. What exactly did you have in mind?”

  That explains the lack of nerves. I turn to Reilly and cross my arms.

  “Seriously?”

  Reilly ign
ores me and looks at Damien. “I’m calling in your debt.”

  Damien’s face pales, and he swallows once. “In what manner?”

  “You will allow Olivia to feed from you and take as much as she needs. You will speak of this to no one, not even your sire.”

  Damien’s expression morphs into confusion, his brows knitting together.

  “Feed from me? She smells like a witch.”

  “Your sense of smell must be severely lacking,” Reilly says as he slips his hands into his pockets and leans back against the desk. “She’s a vampire.”

  I force my fangs out and smile at him in lieu of further explanations. Damien looks at me carefully, taking in my jeans, wrinkled t-shirt, pale face, and the small fangs pressing against my lower lip.

  “I can hardly object to the attention of a beautiful woman,” Damien says with a smile. “Where would you like to feed from?”

  He tilts his head to the side in offer.

  I snort. “Your wrist is fine.”

  Damien unbuttons the sleeve of his jacket while holding my gaze. His movements are slow and his eyes keep straying to my lips. I suspect he might be doing it to wind up Reilly, and oddly, it seems to be working. Reilly’s jaw clenches and unclenches slowly as he watches us.

  “As requested,” Damien says, lifting his now bared wrist in my direction.

  I step forward and inhale, breathing in the light scent of leather that clings to Damien. I wrap my hand gently around his forearm and lean in, my mouth practically watering now that he’s so close.

  There is the slightest tremor in his hand. It’s not visible, but I can feel it. It makes my stomach twist. He’s afraid of me, of what I might take from him. It must be odd for a vampire to be fed from like this. Then again, anyone would be scared to not have a choice. I know it scares me.

  I hesitate, my mouth hovering over his bared skin, as my hunger wars with my conscience. I glance up and see that he is staring at me.

  “It’s alright, Olivia,” he says, pushing his wrist toward me.

  His heartbeat stays, elevated, but steady and something untwists inside of me. I bite down and warm blood rushes into my mouth. The magic inside of Damien is stronger than I expected. Whoever he is, he is older and more powerful than Javier. He still isn’t as strong as Reilly though. I pull and feel the cold strength pour into me.