The Witch's Quest

by Michele Hauf

  “The time-traveling wolf hunter. Wow. I guess I wouldn’t be able to pick if I had more than two breeds running through my veins. We witches are pretty solid. So you’re full-blood faery? Not a bit of wolf from your dad?”

  “I’ve never exhibited any werewolf-like behaviors, but Dad always says I’ve the wolf in my soul because I’m the strongest of all the Saint-Pierre boys. But don’t tell Trouble that. He likes to think he’s the toughest.”

  “The way I understand it from Trouble, he’s fully aware of your strength and respects that.”

  Kelyn shrugged. “The faery is always the last one invited to the fight because my punches tend to knock a guy out cold. At least, they used to.”

  Valor kissed his forehead. “You’ll get your strength back. Soon. I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.”

  “You’ve already done so much. Thank you, Valor.”

  The look he gave her went all melty and worshippy, and Valor, for not the first time, had to catch herself from laughing in disbelief. He was so different from all the other men she’d ever dated or chummed around with. How had she gotten so lucky? Oh, right. He’d committed a brave and noble act to save her life, and now she was trying to catch up with him and make it all right according to her logic.

  She was almost there. Almost.

  The cab pulled over and, after paying and locating the right building, Kelyn knocked on the door to his aunt’s home. The vampire who opened the door was dressed in skintight black latex and a silver hip chain dotted with rubies. Long black hair coiled on her head in pseudo demon horns, and her black lipstick looked as seamless and smooth as the latex. She squealed at the sight of Kelyn and lunged to kiss his cheek.

  “Sweetie! Come in, come in! I can’t believe you’re in Paris.”

  “Hey, Aunt Kam.” Kelyn smeared the back of his hand over the black lip print on his jaw, but was successful in only removing half. “Sorry to surprise you like this, but Valor and I are in town for a day or two and I was hoping we could crash here?”

  “Of course! And Valor, eh?” The gorgeous vampire with pin-sharp black fingernails eyed her from head to toe. And for once Valor felt her lack of glamour as a bone-deep affliction. “Sweet,” the vampiress commented, lacking enthusiasm. “Oh, but Kelyn, you’ll have the place all to yourself. Johnny and I were heading out the door to Brazil for another honeymoon.”

  “Another?”

  “We celebrate one every year. Honey!”

  A long, lanky man with coal-black hair shaved along the sides and above his ears, and wearing black leather pants low at his hips, swung around the corner. On his shoulders glided a green snake half the size of a healthy boa constrictor.

  “Kelyn!”

  “Uncle Johnny.” Kelyn clasped Valor’s hand. “Is that your dad’s snake?”

  “Yeah, Green Snake the Third. I borrowed him for a show we did last night. So, who is this?” Johnny smiled expectantly at Valor.

  “This is my, er, friend, Valor. She’s a witch.”

  Valor offered a little wave over Kelyn’s shoulder. She wasn’t too sure about getting close to that snake. With its pink forked tongue flicking in and out, it looked suspiciously dangerous.

  “Kam said it would be okay for us to crash here, but I’m bummed you two are leaving.”

  “The cab will be here in half an hour,” Johnny said. “And we need to stop by Dad’s house and drop off Green Snake along the way.”

  “Ah! I need to do my lashes,” Kambriel said. With another quick kiss to Kelyn’s other cheek, she skittered off, down the marble hallway on six-inch heels. “Love you, sweetie! Next time call ahead and we’ll plan to be here.”

  “Sweetie?” Kelyn looked to Johnny, who, surprisingly, blushed.

  “She’s been calling everyone sweetie and honey since she found out,” Johnny said. “I think it’s hormones.”

  “Found out?” Kelyn asked.

  Valor offered, “She’s pregnant. She absolutely glows.”

  “She is,” Johnny said proudly. “We’re going to have a tiny bloodsucker. And I will call him Stoker.” He winked at them. “Just kidding. So, what are you in town for? Vacation? Love tryst?” he asked, pronouncing the word love with a roll of his tongue.

  “We’re hunting for spell ingredients,” Kelyn offered. “We’ve determined what we need is in the Council Archives, which brought us to Paris. You have any contacts there?”

  “Uh, yes?”

  Valor and Kelyn exchanged glances at that unconvincing reply.

  “You can try Certainly Jones, who is lord and master over the Archives,” Johnny offered as he stroked the snake easing along his shoulder. “He won’t be an easy one to convince to let you dabble with the cool old crap collected within the Archives. Which, I’m guessing, you’ll want to do. Dabble and/or remove something?”

  “Just borrow a little portion of something,” Valor explained with a close pinch of her fingers.

  “Right. Certainly is not going to approve that. So then I’d go with Tamatha Bellerose, who works with CJ. She does most of the filing and labeling of the items they receive for storage. I’ll give you her number and—hell, I wish we had more time, Kelyn. You look great, man. But I heard about your, uh, situation.”

  Leave it to his mom, Rissa, who spent a lot of time on the phone with her sister-in-law Kambriel, to spill the beans all the way across the ocean. “That’s what we’re trying to rectify.”

  “Yeah? I heard it was a nasty witch who caused you to lose your wings.”

  Valor offered her hand to shake, and as Johnny took it, she said, “Nasty witch, right here.”

  He retreated from the shake with a wipe of his palm along his thigh. “I see.” The vampire eyed her with a discerning quirk of eyebrow, then flashed a glance to Kelyn.

  “We’re good.” Kelyn put an arm around Valor’s shoulders. “Get me that number and then you two should head out. Promise we won’t trash the place.”

  “The guest bedroom is down the hallway. It’s the gray room,” Johnny noted. “Stay out of our bedroom. Unless you want to see things you’d rather not see. You’re my nephew, so, yeah, I’d say stay out of that room.” He winked again, but Valor did catch his concerned look at her.

  “How much time do I have?” Kam called out from down the hallway.

  “Ten minutes, lover!” Johnny blushed again. “Oh, there’s no food in the house. Vamps.” He thumbed his chest. “So you two are on your own for that.”

  “Not a problem. Thanks, Johnny.”

  “I gotta go grab our bags. Hold Green Snake, will you?”

  Kelyn allowed the snake to slither over his arm and across his shoulders. Johnny sprinted down the hallway and out of view.

  When her lover turned to her with a big grin on his face and a snake tongue flickering not far from that grin, Valor stepped back until her shoulders hit the wall.

  “Really?” Kelyn said with surprise. “Grease Girl is afraid of a little snake?”

  She couldn’t even find words because the snake kept flicking out its tongue and eyeballing her with those big gold eyes. Very suspicious.

  “Wow. I guess I found your weakness. Don’t worry. Green Snake is harmless. I think.” He winked.

  And Valor walked a wide curve around the guy and his snake, and headed toward the gray room.

  Chapter 17

  Valor spoke to Tamatha Bellerose on the phone as she and Kelyn walked down the tree-shaded Rue Henri to the eleventh arrondissement where the Council’s headquarters was located. A division of the Council, the Archives was a collection of articles, spells, grimoires, objects of a magical nature, creatures of mysterious origins, and other nefarious and possibly deadly items an organization such as the Council should keep in hand and under lock and spellbound key. Some things had been collected by Retr
ievers, other stuff was donated.

  The Council was an overseeing body that didn’t so much govern the paranormal nations as watch and keep tabs.

  Valor had heard the Archives had rooms designated for objects and history related to each species, and that the witches room was filled with every spell, grimoire and alchemical instrument a witch could ever dream to know. She was excited to look it over, but Tamatha had warned her she and Kelyn didn’t have clearance to simply browse about and take what they wished. Tamatha would have to obtain the skull dust—and she would, because she was behind helping Kelyn after Valor had explained the situation about his wings. And any family member of Johnny Santiago was a friend to her.

  The only problem? Certainly Jones headed the Archives and he kept a tight hand on the contents. Visitors simply weren’t allowed access.

  The good part of that problem? He wasn’t due in until later in the evening. He’d pulled babysitting duty for his twins this afternoon while his wife was out on a cleanup job. So Tamatha had suggested Valor and Kelyn hurry over. An infinitesimal amount of bone dust scraped from a skull? No one should miss that.

  The headquarters was located in an unassuming four-story building that they only found because Kelyn suddenly paused and put out his hands as if to stop the ground from rising up.

  “What is it?” Valor asked.

  “I can feel it.”

  “Feel what?”

  “Everything.” He met her gaze with a wondrous little-boy grin. “It’s amazing.”

  “Cool. You getting some of your navigation skills back?”

  “Maybe. Paris does have a lot of ley lines running through it. The earth’s energies feel...welcoming.”

  “That’s awesome. So...down that alley, you think?”

  “Yes.” He took the lead, angling down a dark alleyway paved with uneven cobblestones. “You know, since we’re in Paris,” he called back, “maybe we should check out FaeryTown? I didn’t get a chance when I was here years ago for Johnny and Kam’s wedding.”

  “Is that the place where Faery overlies the mortal realm? It’s a thin place, right? Maybe you can get to Faery through FaeryTown?”

  “Not sure. I don’t think there are portals there. And if there are, you need to be in the know. You know?”

  “Right, got it. This chick is so not in the know.”

  “FaeryTown is just a sad, sorry place where faeries exist in mortal space.” Kelyn’s long strides moved him so swiftly Valor had to double-time to keep up. “The inhabitants either left Faery or were born here. Lots of dust addicts there, too, or so I’ve heard. You know Johnny’s dad, Vaillant, used to be addicted to ichor?”

  “Yeah, vamps and faery dust. Not cool.” Valor joined him at a metal door set into the brick wall, but neither of them knocked, as Tamatha had requested. “So, are you going to take me to an ichor den later and show me a good time?”

  “How about we climb the Eiffel Tower and kiss at the top of the world?”

  “I like that idea. How’d you get to be such a romantic?”

  “It’s easy around you, Valor.” Leaning up against her, he blocked her in against the wall. His violet gaze enchanted her. “You challenge me, and yet you always accept, as well. Even when I’m doing the grumpy faery thing. Do you know how rare that is for a guy who’s always had trouble dating?”

  “Why the trouble?”

  He swiped a trace of faery dust from her neck and showed her. “I’m so over dating club girls with glitter makeup in order to hide my dust.”

  “That must be difficult.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’m not much for dating, myself,” she lied. “Too complicated. So many expectations.”

  “Right?”

  “I mean, who wants to fall in love and have to commit to the one person?” She did! She so wanted that.

  “Commitment.” Kelyn shook his head with disdain. “So, uh, we’re not dating, right?”

  She hadn’t expected that one, but Valor shrugged and forced a nod. “’Course not.”

  “But we’re lovers.” He tucked a kiss at the base of her earlobe.

  “So you’re thinking more like friends with benefits?” Please say no, she thought.

  “Honestly? I’m not cool with that.”

  His kiss melted her tensions and Valor relaxed against his hardness. She shouldn’t have lied to him, but she didn’t know how to put that intimate desire out there. To be mocked and disregarded.

  “I want you as more than a friend,” he said.

  “I want the same thing.”

  She was ready to show him exactly how much she wanted him by sliding her hand down his jeans when the door creaked open and out popped a silver-haired witch. The twosome straightened and tugged at their clothing as if they’d been caught making out behind the pews by the Sunday school teacher.

  Tamatha Bellerose resembled a retro rocker with her green wiggle skirt and white-and-black polka-dot blouse that revealed tattoos on her arms, fingers and neck. She wore her silver hair in victory rolls and had a lovely rose blush to her cheeks that drew attention to her bright green eyes.

  “Valor Hearst?”

  Valor shook her hand. “Indeed. Wow. You’ve got some power in that hand. More than air magic?”

  Tamatha pointed out the sigil for the elements on each finger as she said, “Earth, air, water and, on occasion, fire. I can feel your vita, too. You’ve walked this soil almost as long as I have. Nice to meet you. And this is?” She turned an admiring gaze up to Kelyn, who thrust back his shoulders at the feminine attention.

  “Kelyn Saint-Pierre.” He shook her hand and she held it.

  “Of the infamous Saint-Pierres? Wow. You all get around this planet, don’t you? But you’re not wolf. You’re faery. Nice.” She rubbed his hand with her palm. “I can feel what’s missing from you. Oh, darling, you need to get back your wings before it’s too late.”

  “Too late?” Valor hadn’t thought there was a deadline.

  “What do you mean?” Kelyn asked the witch.

  Tamatha took his other hand and closed her eyes. Valor guessed she was reading his vita. Something she’d not thought to do. She could do that, but she wasn’t expert at delving into past lives or anything beyond current events.

  “You’ve been weak and unable to shift since it happened,” Tamatha said, but the statement ended as a question.

  Kelyn nodded.

  “A faery’s wings are his life. As strong as you are, you will only grow weaker. I’m sorry.” She dropped his hands. “Sometimes I get feelings about people, and they’re always accurate. Anyway...” She tugged a blue glass vial out from the waistband of her skirt and handed it to Valor. “The Skull of Sidon was discovered a few years ago by archaeologist Annja Creed.”

  “Why does that name sound familiar?” Kelyn asked.

  “She used to have a TV show about history and archaeological stuff.”

  “Oh, right. Chasing History’s Monsters,” he said. “I loved that show. Used to watch it all the time when I was a kid.”

  “I watched a few reruns after we obtained the skull, for curiosity’s sake,” Tamatha said. “That woman can kick butt and she’s smart. Anyway, the skull was rumored to have been destroyed after Creed found it, but of course, we stepped in and made sure that didn’t happen. Gotta keep tabs on all the supernatural stuff floating about in this realm, ya know?” She tapped the vial. “I scraped that from inside the left occipital hollow. No one is ever going to know it’s missing.”

  “Unless of course...”

  All three turned at the deep male voice that echoed from down the alleyway.

  Certainly Jones’s tall, lithe figure flashed out of shadow as he straightened his shoulders. “That no one is me.”

  Chapter 18

 
Kelyn heard Tamatha swear under her breath. Turning, he lifted his chest defiantly, yet he knew they were the ones in the wrong. Still, he wouldn’t allow Tamatha to take the blame.

  “I recognize you,” Certainly Jones said as he approached. The man was dark, as were his hair, his clothing and the tattoos that covered virtually every portion of exposed skin, save his face. Kelyn could feel the magic waver off from the man, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. “Weren’t you in town a few years back for...”

  “A wedding.” Kelyn offered his hand, and the witch shook it. Strong grip, yet Kelyn could feel the malice in his magic vibrating in the touch. “I’m Kelyn Saint-Pierre. Kambriel Saint-Pierre is my aunt. She married Johnny Santiago. I think we may have met at the wedding. Uh, my friend and I—this is Valor Hearst—we meant no harm, Monsieur Jones. You shouldn’t blame Mademoiselle Bellerose for this.”

  Certainly tilted his head, eyeing all three of them in slow but judging perusal. “Did I hear correctly that what is in that vial was taken from the Skull of Sidon that is under protection by the Archives? Who’s working a spell?”

  “I am.” Valor shook hands with Certainly, but Kelyn noticed she didn’t offer to hand over the vial. Good girl. “It’s a spell to open a portal to Faery. Kelyn needs to get his wings back. We have to go to Faery to find them.”

  Certainly again looked Kelyn over. He’d never felt a gaze so deeply. It was as if the witch could read things about him even he didn’t know. “What happened to your wings?”

  “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, we’ve been gathering ingredients for the spell. We should have asked you for the skull dust. I know that’s wrong. But I’m also not willing to give it back. And I will stand strong if you insist.”

  Certainly smirked. “I could take it back with a flick of one finger.” He waggled a tattooed finger before them. “A portal spell? What are the other ingredients?” he asked Valor.

  “Uh, well, a werewolf claw. We got that. Mermaid’s kiss. Just barely got that. Water from Lake Hillier, it’s pink. Pretty cool—”