It was my final dig for the evening, and Banner’s grip on my arm warned me I was pushing the boundaries.
I sighed. “I’m sorry. This isn’t the place for such a discussion.”
“No. It isn’t.” His ember gaze raked over me. “So we can continue it at a later date. I’ll have my secretary set up a meeting.” He focused on Banner. “You have two more days to ponder my offer, after that consider it rescinded.”
Banner tensed. “You’ll have your answer.”
Vritra spotted someone over my shoulder and waved them over.
The scent of jasmine tickled my nostrils, and then a woman claimed the spot beside Vritra. I almost didn’t recognize her in the fancy clothes, but she certainly recognized me, she had after all tried to kill me less than two days ago. Her dark eyes widened and then a polite mask slid into place. She stood beside her father, tense and alert … was she afraid I’d tattle on her?
What would Vritra do if he knew she’d attacked me? If Banner was right and I was on the demi-god’s radar, then I can’t imagine he’d be too pleased.
“Henna, you know Mal Banner, the Piccadilly Elder Witch. And this is, Miss Hunter, his … companion?”
“Girlfriend,” Banner said. “Carmella and I are dating. In fact, she’s staying with me for a while.” He wrapped an arm around my waist. “If I had my way she’d be moving in permanently.”
Seriously? Did he have to amp it up that much? But a smile was in order, and so I simpered and played the besotted girlfriend.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Henna said stiffly.
A prod from Paimon.
“Oh, but we’ve met before.” I gave her an arch smile. “Not too long ago actually.”
She swallowed, her gaze darting to her father. The look in her eyes was more than wariness, it was terror.
“Really?” Vritra placed an arm around his daughter.
To the casual observer it probably looked like he was being affectionate, but alarm bells were going off in my gut, because it looked more like he was holding her in place should she try and flee.
Henna’s sharp features were suddenly drawn, but she held her head high and glared at me defiantly.
On further reflection, prodding the hornet’s nest may not be a good plan.
He was right. Let’s hope she liked baked goods. “You probably don’t remember me. I was the flour covered baker who served you at Delightful Bakery.”
Her shoulders unknotted and she fixed a smile on her face. “Oh, yes. I remember now. What a small world. I suppose this is quite a treat for you.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Well, being the plus one to such an event must be exhilarating,” she said snidely.
Was she seriously having a dig when I’d just bowed out of outing her as a homicidal demi-god?
“We don’t get many witch-bloods at the society events.” She said the words witch-blood as if they were an insult.
“Henna …” Vritra’s tone was saturated with warning.
Henna held up her hands. “Hey, just making small talk.”
Vritra growled in exasperation. “Well, make it elsewhere.”
“Well don’t call me over then.”
His jaw ticked and a wave of lethal menace rippled off him. The cocky expression dropped from Henna’s face and she backed up.
“I’m going to get a drink.” She locked gazes with me “See you around.”
Now why did that sound like a threat?
Vritra sighed heavily. “Enjoy your evening, Miss Hunter, and I will see you soon, for our … discussion.”
Vritra turned and walked away.
I blew out a breath. “What the hell just happened?”
But Banner was looking down at me speculatively. “This is bad. He’s not buying this … you and me.” He led me toward a table laden with food. “Bloody demi-gods and their intuition.”
“Forget about it. It’s not like I’ll be going to see him. And we have more important things to worry about.”
Banner picked up a hors d’oeuvre and held it to my lips.
“Banner?”
He grinned. “We’re being watched.”
I accepted the food, chewing quickly. “Who?”
“Henna.”
“Yeah, what is up with her? For a moment I thought she was frightened of Vritra. It’s the only reason I didn’t say anything.”
Banner picked up two champagne flutes and handed me one. “Henna is a con woman, an actress, and completely out of control. I don’t think she was scared, not for one moment, worried maybe that Vritra would find out what she’d been up to, but frightened? No. She played you, and when you’d spun another story she relaxed and revealed her true colors.”
“So, has she killed other women he’s been interested in?”
“From what I’ve heard there was one, four years ago. It was a mini-scandal, and quickly covered up. She was another asura.”
“And Vritra knows?”
“Yes. I think it’s why he’s avoided finding a mate for so long.”
“Until now.”
“He probably thinks she’s over it—the whole crazy.”
“I don’t get why she’d do it though. Is it jealousy? What?”
“No one knows.”
“So Vritra hasn’t been with a woman all this time?” It would explain the potent sexual energy surrounding him.
Banner choked on his champagne.
“What? What did I say?”
He shook his head.
He is amused.
I get that.
I wager that mating is not the same as sex, just as sex is not the same as intimacy to my people.
Oh.
“Vritra has had his share of women,” Banner said. “Mistresses and live in lovers. But a mate is a life-long commitment, and to be honest there is some mystery around the whole thing. It’s like marriage but more.”
“Well I’m really not in the market to be mated to anyone.”
A commotion broke out behind us.
“The Ghandarva are coming,” Banner said.
I turned to face the hubbub just as the gathered party-goers parted to reveal the gorgeous celestial winged creatures. The male counterparts to the apsaras, the Ghandarva had spent their immortal lives frolicking in swarga when not running errands for the gods. Masters of music and lovers of beauty, they strived for perfection even on this mortal plane, and Perfect Leisure was their answer to the lack of it. The business was huge, attracting both human and supernaturals eager to emulate these divine beings, but I’d never really been wowed by them. There was something too perfect about these creatures. Maybe it was the symmetry of their faces, or the liquid glossiness of their flowing locks, or maybe it was the nine-packs they all sported. They weren’t just perfect … they were unnatural. At least the gods attempted to mute their godliness and integrate. The Ghandarva reveled in it, flaunting their otherness.
They floated through the crowd, shaking hands and flashing dazzling white teeth. The guests murmured in appreciation of their majestic forms. They weren’t wearing much—bare torsos and skin-tight leggings that left nothing to the imagination.
“Yes, it can be disconcerting,” Banner said. “Just don’t look down.”
It was hard not to. Hard.
Carmella … a low chuckle reverberated inside me.
A squat square man stepped out of the crowd, his booming laughter rising above the hum of the crowd. He grasped the nearest Ghandarva’s hand and shook it vigorously, his teeth flashing from within his heavy beard.
There was something compelling about the man, a strange magnetism that made it difficult to tear my attention away from him.
“Who is that?”
“Who? The bearded guy?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Shukra. He works for Vritra. He’s a sage, a holy man. Kind of like a guru to the asura.”
“He seems particularly excited about meeting the Ghandarva.”
Ban
ner shrugged. “I haven’t seen him at one of these celebrations before. I guess it is pretty exciting for him. He’s not a divine being, but he is ancient, so meeting the Ghandarva is kind of a big deal.”
The question was, were all the Ghandarva here tonight? “How many Ghandarva do you count?”
Banner craned his neck. “Twelve; we have twelve.”
There was one Ghandarva missing. Our hunch had been right.
“Wait here,” Banner said. “I’m going to grab us a finger print.”
Oh crap. This was where it could go wrong. “Be careful.”
He leaned in and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Always.”
Paimon snorted.
What, he’s keeping up the act?
A little too well if you ask me.
Jealous? I projected. And as soon as I did, I wanted to take it back. Why swim back into those waters?
Paimon was silent for a long beat. Yes.
My pulse skipped and his icy touch skittered up my spine. God … I sipped my champagne and pretended to study the food on offer.
He sighed. Mingle.
I don’t know anyone.
A soft breeze brushed the nape of my neck. Just act as if you belong and people will accept you.
I turned to the center of the room, scanning the scattered groups, looking for one that I could insinuate myself into. Paimon was right, who knew how long Banner would take lifting a print?
Four women, apsaras from the look of them, giggled together. They reminded me of Urvashi, and I was instinctively drawn to them. I’d barely taken a step when a hand gripped my elbow and I was yanked back into an alcove draped in thick velvet curtains and shoved up against the wall.
Something cold and sharp pinched the delicate flesh at the base of my throat.
“Stay away from my father,” Henna hissed.
Fuck. “I’m with Banner.”
“Bullshit. You smell human but you’re something else, I know it, with your shifter bodyguard. What the fuck was that? Never mind. I don’t need answers. I just need you to back the fuck off.”
The first fingers of anger uncurled in the pit of my stomach. “Get off me. Now.”
“Or what?”
Paimon’s cold power surged thorough my veins. She tensed, as if sensing what was to come, and then it was rolling off me in waves, smashing into her and sending her flying back into the room.
Beyond the sanctuary of the drapes, the chamber erupted into a cacophony of alarmed exclamations.
Carmella, you’re bleeding.
I reached up to touch my neck. “Just a nick.”
The drapes hiding me were yanked back and Vritra stood there, chest heaving. His ember gaze, seething with rage, dimmed when he realized who’d attacked his offspring, and flared once more when he caught the wound on my neck.
He swallowed, and slowly reached for me. Move dammit. Just push past him and leg it. But I couldn’t. The force of his will, his energy, held me immobile.
Paimon?
But the djinn’s voice was a distant cry beneath the roar of blood in my ears.
And then Vritra’s fingers made contact with the cut on my neck, and a pulse of heat shot through me, stealing my breath and sending tremors down my spine. He captured my gaze with his stunned one, the power he was radiating intensifying, pressing against my abdomen, probing lower, lower. Oh … fuck. A gasp exploded from my lips.
“Carmella!” Banner’s shocked face appeared over Vritra’s shoulder. “Oh, god. What happened?”
Vritra stepped back, taking his questing power with him.
Tearing his gaze from mine, he focused on Banner. “Excuse me. I have a child to reprimand.”
Henna was nowhere to be seen, and Vritra was striding from the room, his huge frame cutting through the curious crowd.
Banner put his arm around my shoulder and led me to a seat. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. It’s just a nick.”
He frowned at me. “What?”
I reached up to touch the cut, but found only smooth, unmarred skin.
Vritra had healed me.
“Carmella?” Banner was watching me with concern.
“I’m okay.” A quick glance about the room showed the attention to be back on the hosts. The small interruption was forgotten already. “Well at least the attention isn’t on us anymore.”
Banner snorted. “The Ghandarva don’t like to share the limelight.”
“Did you get the print?”
He grinned. “Is a vamp a bloodsucker?”
“All right, let’s go find our witness.”
20
W e wove through the crowd, stopping here and there to greet and exchange pleasantries. Banner kept his arm around me and steered me toward the doors leading me to the lifts. And then we were through, into the corridor beyond. Dimly lit and empty.
The thumb-print panel gleamed yellow in the darkness.
The doors behind us swished open. Banner pressed me to the wall with his body. His lips skimmed the side of my face, down to my neck. The breath whooshed out of my lungs as my stomach did a weird flip, and then my body was vibrating with tension.
Paimon was not happy.
Someone giggled. “Oops. Sorry.” The doors to the celebration swished closed.
Banner pulled back. “You okay?”
I looked up into his handsome face and nodded. My throat was weirdly dry, and I cleared it. “Let’s get out of here before someone else comes through those doors.”
Banner released me and pulled something from his pocket. It looked like a sheet of paper … no not paper, some kind of plastic … latex maybe?
“What the heck?”
“There’s some amazing tech out there, Carmella, and this baby,” he pulled a slender palm sized machine from his pocket, “is one of them. I lifted the print, inverted it, then printed it on transparent paper. A little latex and we have what we need.”
He breathed on the latex and then pressed it to the scanner. After a second the panel turned green. The doors slid open and Banner ushered me inside.
The doors closed and we began to move up. There were no numbers, nothing to indicate how far we were rising, just the hollow feeling in my tummy telling me we were indeed on the move.
Several long seconds later the lift came to a smooth halt. The doors slid open silently, and Banner grabbed my hand and led me onto the floor beyond. Except it wasn’t a floor.
“Oh, god. Where are we?”
Banner swallowed. “I don’t know, but I have the feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
I’d seen the god’s tiny piece of swarga—a forest enclosure where time stood still. I’d hidden there when the Void had attacked our world. But this … this was something else.
Beneath our feet were what I could only describe as clouds. They were clouds. A vast expanse of fluffy white with furniture set on top. Huge, arched, glassless windows created borders, acting as the walls to this place. The scientific logical part of me balked. But there was no science involved when dealing with the divine.
“Come on,” Banner strode further into the room. The place was like a labyrinth made up of arches and decorative screens. Above us was the night sky with its multitude of stars, and yet there was light. It didn’t make sense.
Rugs floated above the cloud floor, along with chairs, tables, sofas, and lamps. It was like a surreal painting come to life.
“Carmella … over here.” Banner ushered me over then disappeared behind a turquoise screen dotted with tiny white blooms.
I followed and found him crouched by the unconscious form of a Ghandarva. The deity was stretched out on a chaise longue, his chestnut hair spilling over the arm. His thick lashes cast dark shadows on his cheeks. No. Those weren’t shadows, they were bruises. More dark angry marks marred his face and arms, while white bandages were wrapped tightly around his torso, and his wings peeked out from beneath him, battered and torn.
The creature responsible for taking the apsara and the
djinn did this to him. It had beaten the crap out of a celestial being. What the heck were we dealing with?
Banner placed a hand on the Ghandarva’s shoulder. “Hey, can you hear me?”
The Ghandarva made no indication he could. Banner shook him gently, but still, no response.
Banner sighed. “He could be in some kind of healing sleep.”
“Dammit, is there some way to wake him? Can you use magick? Surely the wards won’t extend up here.”
“Good point. Let me see.” Banner leaned in, his hands hovering over the Ghandarva’s forehead.
He closed his eyes as he drew from the skein to manipulate the threads of magick into doing his bidding. Most witches required spells and potions to harness the skein fully, but then there were the Elder and High Witches—beings so advanced in their manipulation of the skein they could take the threads and weave them by intent only.
The Ghandarva moaned and opened his eyes. His mouth parted and then a scream ripped through the air, shattering my eardrums and twisting my insides into intricate knots.
Banner slapped a hand over the Ghandarva’s mouth, but the creature was bucking and writhing as if … as if he were in pain.
“Shit, Banner, put him back under! Do it now!”
“I can’t. I … damn!”
“There,” a voice boomed over the screams. “I told you I saw someone sneak up.”
I turned to see Shukra standing by the screen, and two Ghandarva came barreling in. Shoving Banner out the way they pinned their brother down.
“Quick, Ajit, put him under again,” the Ghandarva at the head of the chaise longue said.
This was our only shot at finding out what had happened. “Wait, please. Ask him who did this to him.”
“Don’t you think we’ve tried? The pain is too much,” the Ghandarva pinning his shoulders said.
“Raaaa …” The Ghandarva on the chaise long screamed. “Raaak …”
His eyes were wild but lucid, and he was staring right at me.
“Raaaak,” he said again.
He was incomprehensible with agony.
Shukra stepped forward and addressed the Ghandarva trying to maintain a grip on the bucking Ghandarva’s shoulders. “Rudi, Maybe I can help.” He placed a hand on the thrashing Ghandarva and reached into his pocket for a small bag. “These are herbs. A calming concoction that may sooth him enough for you to place him back into the healing sleep.”
Binding Magick: an Urban Fantasy Novel (The Witch Blood Chronicles Book 1) Page 13
