Blood Magic: Witch’s Bite Series Book Three

by Foxe, Stephanie

  Damien gasps, his eyes going wide. He can feel it already then, the strange pull from deep inside that’s more than any normal feeding should take. He leans away slightly, but my grip on his wrist is unyielding. I can feel his pulse quickening with each tug on his magic.

  The dizziness and pain that I’ve felt since the raid fades away. My senses sharpen and I can practically smell Damien’s fear growing. I can hear people walking through the hall two floors down. I can hear Reilly’s heartbeat thumping away in irritation.

  I don’t need to take any more blood or magic, but I don’t want to stop. It feels too good. I hold Damien’s gaze but there is no heat to it anymore. His face is tight and he keeps glancing at Reilly as if asking when this will be over. I bite down harder, my teeth bruising his skin around my fangs. He should be asking me, not Reilly. I’m the one taking, I’m the one that gets to decide, I’m—

  The hunger is overwhelming. Taking magic like this makes it even worse. I have to stop this or I’ll take too much. Reilly blackmailed Damien into this, I can’t leave him vulnerable and drained like I did Javier.

  I tear my fangs out of his wrist and press the back of my hand to my lips as I swallow the last of the blood in my mouth. I’m panting like I just ran a mile. I take a step backward so I don’t grab Damien again.

  “What the hell was that?” Damien asks, breathing almost as hard as I am.

  “You can consider the debt paid in full. However, if I find out you have spoken of this to anyone, I will personally put you in a coffin,” Reilly says, his arms still crossed.

  Damien straightens, trying to force his face back into indifference, but failing.

  “Business as usual then,” he says.

  I step out of his way and sit on the end of my bed.

  Damien hurries toward the door, staying as far away from me as he can, and I flop back. The door opens and shuts and an awkward silence settles between me and Reilly.

  My body is buzzing with magic, but mentally, I’m exhausted.

  “I don’t want to do that again,” I say, staring at the ceiling.

  “You may have to if you exhaust yourself like that again. You have to maintain control, and you have to recover,” Reilly says.

  “I know, but I’m not going to take from someone unwilling like that again. I shouldn’t have done it this time.”

  Reilly is silent for a moment. “You need to be practical. It’s going to be hard, if not impossible, to find someone willing to let you feed on their magic.”

  I roll over onto my side, putting my back to him.

  “I don’t care.”

  All I can think about is the tremor in Damien’s hand. It’s the same way my hands shook when I realized Reilly knew what I was, and that he was going to use it against me. I can’t do that to someone else.

  Reilly sighs deeply but doesn’t argue farther. Exhaustion steals over me and I realize the sun must have just risen. I squeeze my eyes shut and slip into sleep.

  9

  For some reason, I had been expecting some kind of private plane, not an economy class ticket on a generic airline. The flight had been noisy, there were two bachelorette parties on board, and there hadn’t been any leg room. The plane landed around one a.m. and we took a cab to the hotel, which isn’t even on the Strip. The rest of Vegas looks sadly normal compared to the glitz and glam that you expect from Sin City.

  The hotel we’re staying at is nice though, so I can’t really complain. I dunk my head under the spray again and rinse out the conditioner. The JHAPI agents are all busy chasing down information on the alleged sighting of Martinez. My only assignment for the evening is to meet with Corinne and work on fixing the effects of my stupidity with the Finding magic.

  I shut off the water and climb out. The heat is starting to irritate the welts so I don’t want to linger. I wrap myself up in the oversized towel and reach for the tub of salve, but don’t pick it up. They are irritated but aren’t hurting that badly right now, and I’d like to make sure I can tell if anything changes while I’m with Corinne tonight. I don’t want to be numbed at all.

  I get ready quickly, and without putting in too much effort. My hair goes up in a loose bun and I wear a loose t-shirt and my most comfortable pair of jeans.

  When I walk out of the bathroom Reilly is sitting in the chair at the desk, waiting for me.

  “You’re going to see Corinne?” He asks.

  “Yes.” I wrap my hand around my forearm. “I need to try to fix this.”

  He nods. “Don’t overdo it today.”

  “I’m not going to,” I say in exasperation. “Do you think I’m an idiot? I don’t want a repeat of last night.”

  “Come directly back here when you are done. I expect to see you before sunrise,” he says, ignoring my outburst.

  “Sure thing, Dad,” I say sarcastically.

  Reilly grins. “I always suspected you had daddy issues.”

  “Oh, shut up,” I snap.

  The phone Elise gave me back in Phoenix buzzes once. I flip it open angrily and see a text from Corinne, she’s on her way. I’m impressed this old thing can even send and receive texts.

  She had insisted on coming to fetch me from my room. I’m starting to think the team has a pact with Reilly to help monitor me twenty-four seven.

  Reilly looks at his watch and stands. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Don’t make me come find you.”

  I roll my eyes and scoff, pulling on a sock.

  “Or you’ll be grounded,” he says.

  I glare at him, but he’s grinning, his dimples on full display like they’re trying to disguise the fact that he’s an asshole.

  “I hope you get staked,” I mutter.

  He clasps his hands over his heart in mock agony.

  “So cruel,” he says with a laugh as he walks toward the door.

  I focus intently on my other sock until I hear him open and close the door. I listen to his footsteps disappear down the hall, then, once he’s far enough away, I throw myself back on the bed and curse him soundly.

  It takes a few deep breaths, but I pull myself together and sit up. I pull on one shoe, then hear a knock at the door. I go answer it, the other shoe in hand. I peek through the peephole, just to be sure it’s Corinne, but when I see it is her, I open the door and wave her inside.

  “I’m almost ready,” I say in lieu of a hello. “Come on in.”

  “No problem,” Corinne says with her ever-ready smile as she steps through the doorway.

  “Do I need to bring anything?” I ask as I sit down and pull on my other shoe.

  “No, just yourself and an open mind,” she says, looking around the room curiously. My clothes are strewn around my bags and bed. I’ve always found that when living out of a suitcase my clothes have a way of ending up all over the place.

  “Where are we going anyhow?” I ask.

  “The room Ivy and I are staying in,” Corinne says. “I just thought the walk would give us a few minutes to chat and get comfortable.”

  I chuckle. “Okay.”

  “I know, I’m kind of a hippie,” Corinne says with a smile. “My coven is very unorthodox, which is part of why I even ended up in JHAPI. Most covens wouldn’t allow it.”

  “I was surprised to hear there was a Finder on the team. You could be earning a lot more money doing private work.”

  Corinne nods. “It wouldn’t be as fulfilling. I do take the occasional private commission, but most of the work I do outside of JHAPI is charitable. I make enough to pay my bills. I’m not concerned about becoming rich, and my coven is supportive of that.”

  “Must be nice,” I say, standing. “I’ve never heard of a coven like that.”

  “You aren’t part of a coven are you?”

  “Nope,” I shake my head decisively. “And I never will be.”

  Corinne nods without argument.

  Most witches lose their shit when I say something like that. Covens are part protection, part employment, and part family. Usually
highly dysfunctional families, but witches are still very loyal. Most will stay with the coven they are born into unless they are courted away somehow. Everyone understands moving to a better coven for reasons like money or power, just as long as you don’t turn into a coven hopper.

  “Are you ready?” She asks.

  “Yes.” I grab my key card and wallet and follow her out the door. Their room is a floor up, but luckily the elevator doors open as soon as she presses the button.

  "So, were you able to Find people from a young age? Or did you discover it on accident somehow?" Corinne asks as we step inside. She fiddles with her necklace, rolling the crystal back and forth between her fingers.

  "It's more of a recent, uh, acquisition," I say hesitantly. Stocke didn't explain how I was able to use more than one type of magic, and I'm not eager to get into the details. The elevator doors open and we head down the hall.

  "After the raid, you seemed like you were hurt, and possibly upset?”

  “I was just exhausted, magically. The welts started bothering me.”

  She slips her key card into the door and opens it, waving me inside first. Her room is exactly the same as the one Reilly and I are staying in. There is a simple, black suitcase next to the bed closest to the door, and then two bright red bags next to the other. I assume that must Corinne's bed.

  "You didn't seem upset about being shot at though,” she says as she walks over to the desk that sits to the right of the television. She grabs an electric kettle and heads toward the bathroom.

  I pace toward her bed and sit down on the edge since there is only one chair, and I'm not sure where else to sit.

  “I guess I wasn’t really. I was relieved no one was seriously hurt,” I say with a shrug.

  “Have you been shot at before?” She asks.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s pretty unusual outside of law enforcement.” She walks back into the main area and plugs her kettle into an outlet underneath the desk.

  “Not as unusual for witches outside of a coven.”

  “I didn’t realize that,” she says thoughtfully, finger tapping against her chin. “I don’t know that I’ve ever met a covenless witch before.”

  “I imagine you haven’t,” I say with a sharp laugh. “You seem like a nice lady.”

  She shrugs. “You seem like a nice lady too.”

  “I suppose I am now. For the most part.”

  “Did you know that in the past, Finders didn’t use maps when working their magic?” Corinne asks, changing the subject abruptly.

  “I’d never thought about it. I guess there weren’t always maps, definitely not as detailed as we have now, were there?”

  “No, and back then, your types of injuries were much more common. Being a Finder was dangerous. They’re rare now because so many families lost their sons and daughters to the magic, and their lines ended.”

  I had studied magical history as a child, but it hadn’t interested me at the time, and I don’t remember much of it. The kettle beeps behind her and she pours the hot water into one of the paper cups. She drops in a teabag and stirs a packet of sugar into her tea, then takes a sip to test it. She nods contentedly and sits in the chair behind her, the cup cradled in her hands.

  “How did they use it at all without a map?”

  “Finding magic, at its most basic level, is trying to guide you to the living thing you are trying to find. It uses whatever tools you provide. A witching rod. A map. Or nothing more than your magic itself. That’s the most dangerous way to use it of course, because the farther away you are from your target, the more of your magic it needs.”

  “Is that why the rule is to not try to Find someone that you can’t guarantee will be on the map in front of you?” I ask.

  Corinne nods. “We follow all these safety rules now and people forget why. I think they’re overly limiting, but I also think that the only people that should be bending them are advanced users with a deep understanding of magical theory.”

  “That sounds a lot like people’s attitudes toward brewing. Safety first. Don’t experiment.” I shake my head. “Brewing without experimentation is just— chemistry. It’s not even magic anymore.”

  Corinne laughs. “It somehow doesn’t surprise me you think that.”

  I shrug, unapologetic. She lifts her necklace and the crystal spins a little, back and forth, from the sudden movement.

  “This is actually a sort of witching rod. It’s an old pendulum that’s been in my family for so long no one actually knows when it was acquired,” she says, her eyes following the movement of the crystal. “I’ve used it several times in particularly difficult cases. I think it helps me channel my magic, to keep it from getting away from me.”

  I lean forward to see it better. From a distance, it just looks like any old amber crystal, but I realize it’s not that at all.

  “Is that carnelian?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Corinne says with a grin. “I think you may need to get something like this when you can. It can be hard to find something that will work, and there are things you need to learn before you even attempt to use one, but it might help you.”

  “What do I need to learn first?”

  She drops the necklace and leans forward, clasping her hands together. “You are going to Find me.”

  I raise my brow. “You’re right in front of me.”

  “Exactly,” she says, pointing at me. “You won’t have to strain your magic at all, and you can practice not only controlling it but really feeling it. I get the impression that every time you’ve used it has been in a sort of panic.”

  I shrug. “You’re not wrong.”

  “One of the ways my mother taught me was by playing hide and seek with me as a child, except I had to use my magic to Find her. It was a simple game, but it worked well. I learned how to listen to my magic.”

  “I didn’t realize it could work with the person right in front of you.”

  Corinne nods. “It does. Are you willing to try it tonight?”

  I hesitate. I don’t want to overdo it and have to feed again, but I have to be able to fix this. The welts are only going to get worse if I don’t.

  “How much magic will this use? I can’t overdo it or I’ll be comatose for almost eight hours,” I say finally.

  “Hardly any. I doubt it will be anything more than uncomfortable. Of course, this is magic, I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “Alright then. Let’s do this,” I say, standing. I’m worried, and a little scared of how this might go, but that’s never stopped me before.

  Corinne grins. “First, I’m going to blindfold you and have you put on these earmuffs. Then, I want you to Find me. What you’re looking for is that tug in your gut that tells you where I am in relation to you. You’ll point left or right, then let go of the magic, and we’ll do it again.”

  She hands me a pair of black earmuffs that smells like it came straight out of her gun cleaning kit, then a fluffy eye mask. I take them and hold them hesitantly.

  “How, exactly, do I Find you without a map?”

  “I suggest starting by using your hands like a witching rod. You do something similar when using Finding magic with a map. Let them point me out like this room is one big map,” Corinne says, spreading her arms wide.

  I take a deep breath and mentally shake off the nerves.

  “Alright, I guess I’ll just try it.”

  Corinne moves to stand directly in front of me. “Remember, once you Find me, just point left or right, then let it go.”

  I nod, then pull on the eye mask, followed by the earmuffs. I can hear the sound of my own breathing, but nothing else. I shake my hands out, then clasp them tightly together.

  The Finding magic is responsive as soon as I tug on it. My arms burn immediately as well, but not bad enough that I’m worried. It’s more like what I felt when Corinne was using her magic at that first meeting.

  I picture Corinne as she looks right now. Simple green blouse, jeans, and her wa
vy hair loose around her face. The magic moves through me like a wave and pushes out into the room. It’s an odd sensation. In the past, it has been directed toward the map. This makes me feel off balance like all of my senses are focused outside of my body.

  I squint even though I can’t see and try to sort out what exactly I’m sensing. I can feel the shape of the room as the magic searches with invisible fingers. I extend my hands cautiously and feel a pull that grows stronger and stronger to my left. My magic slides around Corinne like water.

  There’s a flash of an image in my mind. It’s of me with my hands outstretched. My lips are turned down into a frown and my brows are furrowed tightly together. The image disappears as quickly as it arrived, but I’m left trembling and drained.

  “Left,” I gasp out as I begin pulling the Finding magic back into myself. I rip off the earmuffs and the eye mask and toss them on the bed beside me. My hands are shaking and the welts are burning enough that I have to grit my teeth to keep from groaning.

  “Are you okay?” Corinne asks, hurrying to my side.

  “It took too much. I think I saw something—” I stop, struggling for words with the pain coursing through my arms.

  “Another hallucination?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head fervently. “It wasn’t like that at all. I saw me. I think I was seeing what you were seeing.”

  Corinne sits back on her heels and looks at me with wide eyes.

  “You don’t do anything by halves do you?” She asks with a laugh.

  I stare at her, wondering if she’s lost her mind. “I’m glad you find this funny.”

  “It’s not that,” she says, shaking her head fervently. “Your ability to focus is excellent. Perhaps too good. I think it’s what got you in trouble when you tried to Find your mother.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You have a lot of power and raw talent, and you can easily hone in on what you are trying to Find. Someone as inexperienced as you shouldn’t be able to Find someone that is no longer living, much less get their magic so entangled that they can’t undo it. It should just have failed.”