by Kiersten Fay
“Oh, I forgot something,” he said, and her gaze met his. “What time do you close?”
“Usually around sex...uh, six!” She flushed.
To her horror, he failed to hide his amusement. “Perfect.”
“Why is that perfect?”
“That’s about the time I plan to take you out for dinner.” The bell jingled as he opened the door. Just before he stepped out, he added, “See you tonight.”
Dumbfounded, Sara could only stare after him. Then, when she registered he’d just asked her out on a date—demanded really, but whatevs—she grinned stupidly.
So his vibes were a little strange. Who was she to judge? She put the odd in oddball. Besides, she now had a date with a sexy, didn’t look all that much older than her, possible witch who might understand her on a deeper level, non-hick hottie.
With a bit of a dance in her step, she returned to pondering the candles. It took a couple minutes more to recall he had never given her his name. So when the bell rang once more, she figured he’d come back to rectify the situation.
She turned with a playful smile.
Her heart jumped into her throat when she saw who it was. Hastily, she dove for her shotgun, hidden behind the counter, but the vampire was quicker.
Knox slapped a hand over her mouth as his other one gripped her around waist from behind.
Sara tried to scream; a muffled, panicked sound.
“Knox! Go easy,” Mace reproofed as he entered directly afterward.
Hope furrowed at hearing his voice, but she quickly realized he wasn’t here to help her.
She thrashed, trying to free her mouth so she could chant a quick spell. She had several on the tip of her tongue: transmutation, time deceleration, electrical discharge. All required verbalization for the king of power that could drop a vamp. She wasn’t particularly good at any of them, but adrenaline born of desperation was the best of teachers.
If she wasn’t restrained, she could have gathered magic in her palms to aid in her defense, as she was so used to doing. Gran had always warned her it was a bad habit, and she should focus more on mastering the silent defensive spells, but Sara, stubbornly, preferred the more grandiose displays of power.
Well, point to you, Gran.
Knox countered to Mace, “She’d curse us just as soon as cut off our heads.”
That was true enough. Images of boiling their frank-n-berries in oil danced in her head. Especially Knox. He’d been the one to murder her grandmother, she was sure of it. And she’d vowed to reap vengeance on him no matter the cost.
“Just get on with it, but be gentle,” Mace urged.
“Mate, how exactly does one be gentle while knocking someone out?”
Everything went dark after that.
Chapter 4
Cora pushed against Sadira’s hold, trying to take command of her body and finding no give. It was as if she were the wind and Sadira a brick wall. Sadira was in control as long as she wanted to be. Cora realized Sadira had merely allowed her to surface before, for whatever reason. As soon as she’d once more taken over, weakness had saturated Cora’s resolve, driving her back like the deluge of a tsunami and cocooning her in some small swatch of her own mind.
Now she could only watch helplessly as though through someone else’s eyes.
Just like before, she attempted to communicate with Sadira, first by groveling: Please get out of my body. I promise to help you break this curse you’re under once you’ve freed me.
No answer.
I swear, I’ll do whatever I can to help you.
Again no response.
Was she even getting through?
After another few moments of what Cora had to admit was shameful begging, she changed tactics, the dread of uncertainty filling her with resentment and making her terse.
You have no right to claim my body. Mace will never allow you to stay where you are, and by the looks of your Knoxy, he is of the same mind. Do yourself a favor and vamoose before it’s too late.
Still no response.
When pleading and threats failed, curiosity took over. What is your goal here? You’re obviously obsessed with Knox—and by the way, how pathetic. He’s horrid, overbearing, cruel…
“Oh, would you please shut up,” Sadira hissed.
You can hear me!
“Of course I can hear you,” Sadira replied. “You’re positively piteous, begging for mercy. Just shut up and perhaps you’ll learn something. Not that it matters if you do,” she added under her breath, then began an intonation utilizing an unfamiliar language.
After a moment, the rope binding her and Cora’s wrists darkened in color, seeming to grow brittle before her eyes. A faint crackling preceded the breaking of a small strand, and then another. Amazingly, as Sadira’s chant continued, the rope shed away before decomposing entirely into dust.
Freed, Sadira stood up and stretched, clearly pleased with herself. “Such power you have. What a rarity. I’m lucky to have you.”
You don’t have me, Cora objected.
“Don’t I? Move a limb, if you can. No? I didn’t think so. This body is mine now, girl. You are only an unwanted passenger. Better come to grips with that.”
You evil bitch.
“I don’t abide harsh language,” Sadira said darkly.
What are you going to do about it?
“You’d be surprised by all I can do. Mind your soul, lest I make it mine as well.” Sadira stepped forward, but was unexpectedly propelled backwards, stumbling into the chair she had just vacated.
Her head tilted angrily to the side. She placed her/Cora’s/their palm flat against the invisible barrier and, after a moment’s contemplation, let out a harsh curse. Then she mumbled out a different chant than before. Power developed in her palms, hot and heavy. In the next instant, she released the power directly at the transparent wall.
It fizzled on contact.
Growing furious, Sadira screeched, and began pacing like a caged lion.
What were you saying about all you can do? Cora taunted. You can’t even get us out of here.
“Shut up, you weak-willed wench.”
Sadira’s rage burned through Cora, almost making it her own. Somehow she managed to separate herself from it, but just barely.
Who are you? Cora demanded. What is your history with Knox? Looks like we’ve got nothing but time till they get back, so you might as well tell me.
Sadira slammed a fist against the mystical barrier, willfully ignoring Cora. Then, like a wild woman, she cried out and attacked the blockade with a succession of what Cora could only describe as fire bolts.
Little good it did. The power dispersed along the barrier like the jagged fingers of lightning.
“Trapped so long, only to be trapped again,” Sadira muttered, out of breath.
Why were you trapped? Tell me your story. Maybe I can help. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.
“You’ll not get your body back,” she replied vehemently. “And I don’t need your help. I will get free. I’m so close. Soon I’ll have Knox, and then vengeance.”
Vengeance? On who?
Sadira tilted her head back and exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “You will weaken and fade, and then I will be spared your sniveling voice in my pretty new head.”
That gave Cora pause. Could she lose her body entirely to this horrible—what had Knox called her?—wraith? Was there nothing to be done? Not for the first time, she wished she knew more about the supernatural world. Then maybe she could have defended against this unwanted invasion.
“Knox was once bound to me, and now, thanks to this body, he is again. It is fate,” she finished ominously.
What? You were blood bound to Knox?
Just then, the mental door whooshed open. Knox entered first, toting a slender, limp body over his shoulder. The clunky black boots dangling down his front gave Cora an indication of who he carried.
Mace followed behind him, looking a little troubled. When he registered Sad
ira was no longer restrained to the chair, his steps faltered.
Knox appeared unconcerned, depositing the lifeless body in the far corner of the room.
Oh, Knox, what have you done?
When Cora caught the rise and fall of Saraphine’s chest, she released a mental sigh of relief.
“Knoxy, be a dear and let me out of here,” Sadira cooed, petulant.
Knox didn’t look her way, but his features contorted into a sneer as he stood and allowed Mace access to Saraphine. As Mace knelt to gently pat her on the cheek, Knox moved to close and lock the door…entombing them all together?
Sadira cocked her head with curiosity. “What have you planned, my love?”
Again both vampires refused to acknowledge her.
Mace urgently, yet softly muttered Saraphine’s name, once, twice, as if trying to rouse her without alarming her.
When she didn’t immediately awaken, he glanced up at Knox, scolding, “You should have let me speak with her first. To explain things.”
Blasé, Knox shrugged. “You can be very long winded, mate. Whether she wanted to or not, she was coming with us. I just sped up the process. I forgive you for locking me up, by the way,” he added ruefully.
“Your behavior was unacceptable,” Mace argued.
Knox made no reply.
Saraphine’s eyes fluttered open. She scrambled away from Mace, confusion creasing her brows.
“There you go.” Knox gestured to Saraphine with a derisive hand. “You can speak with her now. What does it matter the order of events?”
Realization dawned on Saraphine’s face, and her expression grew enraged. She spat out a harsh succession of cryptic words. A brilliant ball of energy flashed in her palm. Then, with a swift motion, she shot the glowing orb toward Knox.
He dove to dodge, but wasn’t fast enough. At impact, his body propelled backwards, slamming against the hard wall. He grunted and went to one knee, croaking out, “See, same events, different order.”
Mace moved to restrain the maddened Saraphine by forcing her arms behind her back.
“Let me go, you son of a bitch! I’ll kill him.” Her fiery gaze was trained on Knox.
Knox’s amused expression taunted her into an even deeper rage.
“Calm yourself,” Mace pleaded with her. “We need your help.”
“He killed my grandmother! I’ll help him to die!”
Mace let out a wearied sigh. “We don’t know that for sure.”
He sounded more reasonable than he probably should have while holding a flailing, homicidal seventeen-year-old.
“Please,” he added. “Cora is in trouble.”
Saraphine slowed her struggles and finally seemed to register Cora—or rather, Sadira—observing the scene from the center of the room. Although, Saraphine didn’t yet understand who really stared back at her with cold levity.
“Cora, you told me he was imprisoned. How could you take this bastard’s side?”
Sadira answered crisply, “Because he’s mine.” She glanced at Knox. “Have you brought me a body that you’re more fond of, Knoxy? You really shouldn’t have. I’ve grown quite attached to the one I already have.”
Saraphine stilled in Mace’s grasp, cocking her head to the side as though trying to make sense of her words.
“She’s been possessed,” Mace explained. “We brought you here because we need your help extracting the spirit from Cora’s body.”
Suspicious, Saraphine took a moment to scrutinize Cora. Then her expression hardened. She pointed her scathing look at Knox. “I’ll help Cora when I get justice for my grandmother.”
Knox’s lips curled. “Are you sure you want to go there, little girl?”
“Positive, dickhead.”
Mace turned her to face him, keeping his hands firmly on her shoulders. Even from the obscure angle, Cora could see his expression was pained. It twisted her heart.
Sadira made an inaudible gasp and placed a palm against her chest. As if realizing what she’d done, she huffed in annoyance and flung her arm back down to her side. No one but Cora seemed to notice the action. She wondered if her emotions had affected Sadira in some small way.
“Please, Saraphine,” Mace said. “I cannot lose her.” Unadulterated misery emphasized Mace’s words.
For some reason, Knox’s expression grew dark. A muscle in his jaw flared a couple times before he blanked his features. Cora wondered at the guarded display.
Saraphine frowned at Mace’s earnest declaration. And for a fraction of time she appeared to falter, but then she steeled herself once more. “My loyalty is to my own coven, not to Cora, and especially not to you, vampire. My gran will have justice.”
Knox chimed in, “Careful, Saraphine.”
Whirling to face him, she shouted, “You are the one who should be careful! First you murder my gran then kidnap me. My coven will have both your heads.”
“Or will I have theirs?” Knox’s features became murderous, his fangs protruding in a clear threat.
Saraphine stiffened.
Mace let out a clipped warning, but Knox was not assuaged.
“Think on this good and hard, cher. It could very well be you are stuck here for days. Or months. Maybe someone in your coven comes to that nice boutique looking for you. Maybe I’m there to greet them.” He flashed a shark-ish smile. “Their fate hinges on you. The blood I might be forced to spill would be on your hands. Now are you done acting like a prat? Do what you were brought here to do and be gone.”
Pure menace swam in Saraphine’s riotous gaze. But after only a few tense heartbeats, her expression fell, and her shoulders slumped. “How long has she been possessed?”
——
After Mace recounted the story, Sara’s mind went to work. She hadn’t heard of this Sadira before, but then, her thoughts had always drifted during Gran’s impromptu history lessons.
It didn’t escape her, however, that these vampires could be lying about Sadira’s darkly marked deeds, which they were being very vague about. She could be a mere victim, same as Gran.
That suspicion alone was what decided Sara’s course of action. To protect her coven from Knox’s threat she would extricate the spirit from Cora’s body, but she would not lock it back in its dimensional cage.
Where Cora stood in mix, Sara wasn’t sure. She only knew that she aligned herself with vampires and claimed no coven of her own. Though Sara had liked Cora as a person, they shared no fealty toward one another. Worse, Cora had lied about Knox having been imprisoned, and that, Sara could not forgive.
“I’ll need to go back to my shop for supplies if I’m to do this properly.”
“I’ll retrieve whatever you need,” Knox offered sharply before Mace could reply.
Sara spoke only to Mace, refusing to acknowledge Knox any further. “He will not set foot in my shop ever again!”
“Sara—” Mace started softly.
Knox interjected. “You’d rather I stay here with you…alone…while Mace fetches your things?” He grinned too wide, displaying those obnoxious fangs again.
Oh, how she craved to pluck those teeth out in turn with a pair of pliers while he begged for mercy—not that she’d have any to spare. He’d offered none to Gran as he’d ripped her throat open and left her to die in that dirty alleyway.
The woman in Cora’s body—Sadira—spoke with a salacious inflection. “Oh yes, Mason, do leave her with us.”
Sara didn’t want to admit there was something dangerous and deadly in her tone that made her shiver. It was most definitely not Cora speaking. Cora was all cotton and feathers and soft edges while whoever this Sadira was seemed to be made of iron and steel and pointed daggers.
“Fine,” Sara relented, eager to have this done with as soon as possible. “You must get everything I say. Don’t leave anything behind and don’t put your filthy hands on anything else but what I tell you.”
She listed off the items that she needed, explaining in detail where to locate each, sure that Kno
x would forget something because he didn’t write anything down.
When she was finished, she couldn’t help but add in a cutting tone, “Go fetch.”
Knox replied with a withering glare before disappearing out the door.
After a while, Mace broke the wake of silence. “I’m almost positive Knox hadn’t been the one to kill your grandmother.”
“Of course you would be,” she muttered.
“I didn’t say I was entirely positive. I do have my doubts.”
She swung her gaze to him. His dark-brown hair hung above his eyebrows and had the slightest wave to it. Dark splotches stained just below his eyes. He looked weary, worried—undoubtedly for Cora.
“Then allow my coven to try him. A fair trial. And abide by the outcome.”
“I’m not the head of my clan. I can’t make such promises. And Trent never would. Not for…”
“Not for one measly witch?” Sara finished for him, venomously.
“That’s not what a meant. But consider this. Would your coven make the same concession? If a witch had murdered a vampire in cold blood?”
Sara clenched her teeth. “We would have endeavored to find the truth.”
“As shall we.”
Sara humphed.
Sadira let out a sensual chuckle. “In my day, we bathed in the blood of vampires. Made a fountain of it and danced till it drenched us. Saraphine, child, take back your power. Take your revenge here and now. Kill this wretched vampire who cares nothing for your kin.” She eyed Mace as though he were a maggot, only good for being crushed under her boot.
At the spirit’s words, Mace’s brows furrowed with chagrin, but also a good dose of bemusement. It took Sara a moment to understand the latter. Such scathing words pronounced through a loved one’s mouth, using their voice? Even though it was not truly them speaking, how could that not be confusing?
She imagined Gran in Cora’s place, her audacious soul sequestered somewhere inside her own mind, pacing the makeshift cage in her hunched gait, something wild and desperate behind her wrinkled facade. How would Sara reconcile hearing such hateful remarks from her grandmother, even knowing it was another’s words?
