“Jeff, scoot on out of my chair,” a deep voice with a very thick Texan accent ordered.
“See you later, Wonder Woman,” Jeff said, then moved off-screen.
Dr. Summerfield’s bulging tummy hidden by his wrinkled white shirt came into view, then he settled into the chair his son had abandoned. He looked the same as she remembered him; nice open face, a receding hairline of snow white hair, and large-rimmed glasses tucked over his piercing blue eyes. “Cassandra,” he drawled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your pretty face?”
“Hey, Doc. I need your help on something,” she answered. Seeing the professor made her miss him all the more. His role in her life had been that of a kindly, supportive uncle. Throughout her childhood he had made certain that she and her mother were well-provided for and safe from the dangerous world of Cassandra’s father.
“Is this for one of your jobs?” The professor frowned. He did not approve of her side profession.
“Actually, it is.” She quickly gave him the lowdown, explaining everything she had encountered since the night in Vegas.
“A full-blooded witch is what you’re talking about,” Dr. Summerfield said, his brow slightly furrowing. “Those are rare.”
“She told me it’s a trap, but she’s bonded to the vampire. So if she’s enslaved to him, is she luring me in? Lying? For him?” Cassandra chewed on her bottom lip worriedly. Her gut told her that Aimee was being truthful, but Cassandra knew she was a sucker for a beautiful face. Felicity was a prime example of that.
“Give me one moment.” The professor vacated his chair and the sounds of him puttering around his library sizzled through the computer speakers.
Gnawing on her thumbnail, Cassandra waited anxiously. Her emotions were a tangled mix. Obviously, if she went to West Texas she would be going into a trap, but she couldn’t ignore Aimee’s plea if it was sincere.
Huffing a little, Dr. Summerfield settled into his creaky chair with a very old-looking book clasped in his veiny hands. “Okay, according to this account, vampires have been attempting to enslave witches for thousands of years, but have found it very difficult to actually accomplish for an extended period of time. There have been multiple attempted purges of the full-blood witches. Vampires fear them because they cannot control them.”
“So Aimee is not enslaved to the vampire?” Cassandra frowned at the thought. The woman’s distress had felt genuine in the dream, but then again, it had been just a dream.
“Well, she might be. Vampires apparently can enslave a witch, but it’s not on the same level they can enslave a human. Once a vampire feeds a human its blood a few times, that human will do anything for the vampire. The human feels an intense, passionate love for the vampire.” Dr. Summerfield read a few more passages, turning a page. “Witches, though, are not fully captivated. Though the bond forces them to obey, they don’t ever feel the euphoric love the humans do. Therefore, witches were known to find ways around the blood bond to betray their vampire masters and destroy them.”
“Such as contacting a dhamphir in a dream and asking her to go help you kill your vampire master.” Cassandra rubbed her face vigorously and groaned. “So she’s legit, and I’m really doing this.”
Dr. Summerfield set the book down and rested his hands on it. It bothered Cassandra to see how his fingers trembled. He had suffered a minor stroke a few months back and Jeff was worried about him. Cassandra could understand why. If anything happened to her mother, she didn’t know how she could handle it.
“Cassandra, I don’t like asking you to go into dangerous situations, but if this Aimee is a real, true full-blood witch, you must save her and bring her to me. A witch is very rare and should be protected.”
“So it’s not enough that she’s an innocent woman being forced into slavery by a man?” Cassandra asked sarcastically.
With a weary sigh, the old man shook his head. “Cassandra, please. You know what I’m saying. Aimee is a rarity. The vampires did a very good job eliminating the race. The black witches have only a smidgen of their abilities and that’s why they turn to demons for power. Aimee could be a great force for good in this world if she were free of this vampire. The Assembly could use her.”
“I get that,” Cassandra answered. “But she’s also a young woman who is being forced into slavery. That’s enough reason for me to want to go save her and not turn her over to your cronies.”
“Cassandra,” Dr. Summerfield leaned in toward the webcam, “I have told you before that there are dark forces gathering. The Assembly has been hearing murmurings of something dire percolating in the world of the supernatural.”
“You make it sound like the vampire hunters think the baddies are making coffee.” Cassandra shrugged. “I’m not joining any of your secret societies, vampire hunting groups, or the mysterious Assembly. I’m just trying to live my life and provide for my mother.”
Dr. Summerfield sighed, rubbing his forehead lightly. “You give me such headaches.”
“Look, I’ll go save Aimee. But once she’s free of this bozo, she can do what she wants. It’s her life.”
“It would be safer for her if she came here,” Dr. Summerfield protested.
“I don’t know that.”
“Throughout your childhood I made sure you were safe.”
“And now I take care of myself and my mom.” Cassandra folded her arms over her knees and glared over them. “Look, I knew contacting you would possibly dredge up the whole ‘Cassandra, you should be a vampire hunter’ argument, but I don’t have the need to go kill daddy over and over again like other dhamphirs. Haven’t you driven it into my head my whole life how my father sent my mother away so she would be safe? That it was a noble thing to do?”
“Your father is a good man,” Dr. Summerfield said a tad defensively. “I consider him a friend.”
“And yet you keep me a big ol’ secret.”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.” Dr. Summerfield sounded weary. “I do what I feel is right.”
“Exactly. And I have to do what I feel is right. I love you, you know that. But I’m not going to turn Aimee over to you or your cronies.”
“Will you at least tell her about me and my work and give her the option?”
With a sharp exhalation, Cassandra lifted a shoulder.
“What does that mean?” Dr. Summerfield smiled.
“Sure. I’ll tell her.”
“Thank you. And you really should consider joining the Assembly.”
“Uh huh. Whatevs.”
The old man sighed. “Ah, Cassandra. As stubborn as your father.”
“So you say.” Cassandra wished she could go back in time to the days when she and Jeff got into all sorts of terrible trouble while Dr. Summerfield looked on with affection. It had been a much better time in their relationship. She hated their usual argument about her joining his top secret vampire hunting society. “Anyway, I need to know one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Can dhamphir blood break a vampire bond?”
Dr. Summerfield’s face blanched. “Yes. Yes, it can. One of the many reasons why vampires want your kind dead.”
“Other than our tendency to kill our daddies?”
He nodded.
“Well, that settles it. I guess I’m going to go rescue a beautiful witch from a nasty old vampire and help her break the bond.”
“Be careful, Cassandra. The vampire has laid a trap and may exert more influence over the witch than we know.”
With a wide smile, Cassandra answered. “Well, I guess I’ll find out one way or the other.”
Amusement filling his voice, Dr. Summerfield teasingly said, “She must be very beautiful.”
“Oh, she’s totally hot. Smokin’! But even if she looked like Jabba the Hutt, I would rescue her. No woman should be enslaved against her will.” Cassandra shuddered at the thought.
“Yes, but there is a certain twinkle in your eyes that you reserve for the women who catch you
r eye.”
“Oh, she caught both of them,” Cassandra admitted.
Wearing the expression of a concerned older uncle, he said, “Be careful, Cassandra. Be very, very careful. Sometimes, the knight in shining armor gets eaten by the dragon.”
“Oh, I’m not a knight in shining armor,” Cassandra corrected him. “I’m the ninja sneaking up the back stairs.”
Chapter 12:
Entangled Further
The rich scent of incense filled the room as it slithered from the sticks burning near the cauldron. Aimee kneeled before the fireplace Frank had installed just for her. It was just big enough to fit her cauldron and light a low fire beneath its dark, bulky shape. At her side, the elements for her spells were laid out on a swatch of white cotton. The fragrance of the herbs mingled with the incense, giving the room a rich atmosphere.
Magic crackled along her skin while the crystals set around her in a circle glowed softly. Despite the growing warmth in the room, Aimee felt the breeze of her magic fluttering her hair and cooling her skin.
Aimee had been mixing all day and already a small cluster of spells sat in a big white ceramic bowl near the circle. Some were made entirely of dried herbs and were wrapped with white cotton thread. Others were liquid, and sloshed around in small stoppered vials. Seven empty cotton drawstring bags sat piled ready for the most powerful of her concoctions.
Drawing in a deep breath, Aimee held the air in her lungs, pulling her stomach in and holding her spine straight. Gradually, she exhaled, eyes closed, concentrating on the energies shimmering around her.
A smile upon her lips, she started to add ingredients to the white soapstone mortar resting on the hearth. Fingers tingling, she ground the herbs with the pestle, gently twisting her wrist as she infused her magic into the concoction.
The bedroom door slammed open, startling her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Frank recoil as the incense hit him.
“Frank, I’m busy! You’re ruining this spell!” she yelled. The energy around her spiraled into chaos and she felt the spell dissipate. “Dammit. You did ruin it.”
“I don’t care. Get out here,” Frank ordered. “You’ve been in there all day according to Ivan. Now I want you out here with me.”
“I thought you wanted the spells ready for the dhamphir,” Aimee retorted.
Setting his hands on the door jamb, Frank glowered at her. “You know, you’ve been getting a little cocky lately.”
Licking her lips, Aimee tried to still the sudden panic swelling within her. “I just need to concentrate,” she said in a softer tone. “Interruptions ruin spells.”
Studying her, Frank shifted on his feet, resting a shoulder on the door, and folded his arms over his chest. It was a dangerous pose for him. It meant he was calculating something in his head. “Get out here.”
“My circle is formed. Let me finish.”
“What are you making? I can’t enter.” Frank held out a hand, then winced.
“It’s the herbs to repel the dhamphir.”
“Well, they’re repelling me and I don’t like it.”
“Frank, you know that the herbs I use aren’t always vampire-friendly.”
“I should burn that damn garden. I can’t even go out on the patio.” Frank was testy and growing increasingly agitated.
Aimee stilled herself, sitting quietly before her hearth, her head bowed. She hoped she looked submissive. With a sigh, she picked up two of the crystals, opening the circle.
“Get out here,” Frank ordered yet again.
Reeling in her power, Aimee shifted her weight so she could cover her spell ingredients with white cloths.
Frank snapped his fingers at her.
“I have to take care of my ingredients, Frank!”
“There’s that mouth again. Flapping at me, irritating me. Defying me!”
“I’m doing what you want!” Aimee shouted at him, losing her temper. Instantly, she knew she had made a mistake.
The vampire attempted to step into the room, but when thwarted by the spells Aimee had created, he motioned irritably to someone in the hallway. With a haughty expression, Frank stepped away from the doorway, straightening his jacket cuffs while Ivan barreled into the room. Aimee was sorely tempted to close the circle and defy Frank, but she knew it wouldn’t stop him. A circle could hold out interfering spiritual entities and even a physical assault, but it wouldn’t hold against a firearm. She’d witnessed Ivan shoot one of the blood minions in the leg for being in the house without a summons.
The mere fact she could contemplate such an act without it instantly being smothered by the bond to Frank startled her. She was breaking free of his influence and he knew it. Fear ripped through her as Ivan reached down and dragged her to her feet.
“Frank, I was obeying you,” she whimpered.
Ivan pulled her out of the remains of the circle, upturning some of the crystals. Fingers digging into her upper arm, Ivan shoved her toward Frank. The temptation to turn and blast the guard through the wall was nearly irresistible.
Snagging her around the waist, Frank ushered her down the long hallway. Her bare feet pattered against the cold stone tiles and her simple white dress fluttered around her ankles.
“I should have realized that you were slipping away,” Frank said in a terse voice. “I’m used to your little quirks, but the defiance in your eyes that usually turns me on has been turned up a few notches.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.
Frank whirled her about and shoved her against the wall. Holding her in place with one hand pressed against her throat, he gazed at her through the red tinted lenses of his glasses. “It drives me crazy that I never feel I can totally possess you. I realize you’re a witch and it’s always been tricky with your kind.” Tightening his grip, Frank cocked his head to one side. “I admit I rather enjoy the fact that I feel like I’m always stalking you and you, my feisty prey, are just beyond my claws. But this...” He jabbed his finger toward her eyes, making her wince and clench them shut. “...this defiance just won’t do.”
“I was doing what you wanted. Making the spells to catch the dhamphir,” Aimee whispered.
Frank released her throat, but his hand closed on her wrist in a tight grip. Dragging her toward his bedroom, he shook his head. “Maybe you were, but I don’t have your heart, your mind.”
“Frank...” Aimee wailed, his sharp nails drawing blood.
The vampire entered his bathroom and turned on the water in the enormous black garden tub.
“Frank, please...” Aimee raised her free hand, summoning her magic. If she was breaking free of his influence maybe she could...
The water rushed into the tub, churning and foaming.
Feeling muddled and a little sick, Aimee lowered her hand. She couldn’t attack Frank. Hurt him. Destroy him. His blood was tangled up in her soul. “Frank,” she whispered.
Directing attention to her, Frank smirked. “Ah, maybe I still do have you.”
“Frank, please. I obey you,” she said, pleading.
The blow across her cheek sent her to her knees.
“You were going to do something to me just now, weren’t you? What were you going to do, Aimee?” Frank’s fingers tangled in her long bronze hair.
“Your blood makes me sick,” she wailed. “Don’t please.”
“You reek of magic and those awful herbs,” Frank grumbled. Checking the water level, he seemed satisfied. Using her hair as a leash, he hauled her to her feet, then shoved her into the tub.
The water was icy cold. The shock of it engulfing her body stunned her for a moment, then the water filled her nose and mouth when Frank shoved her beneath the surface before she could take a breath. Submerged, she struggled against Frank while he held her down. Lungs burning, she clawed at his arm. Just as her vision began to spot, he pulled her head out of the water.
Gulping in great breaths of air, Aimee flailed, trying to gain traction on the slick porcelain with her hand
s and feet.
Still gripping a handful of her hair, Frank poured shampoo, body wash, and scented oils over her head. “I’ll get rid of that awful stench.”
“Frank, please, stop!” she gasped, her lips trembling against her chattering teeth.
“You make me do this. You know that, don’t you? You completely manipulate me until I have no recourse!” Frank hurled a bottle of shampoo across the room. It exploded on impact, globs of ivory-colored soap spattering over the red and black tiles. “Everything was going just fine, then I see that look in your eye and I realized you’re fucking with me.”
This time Aimee sensed him tensing the muscles in his arm and held her breath. The water swirled through her hair, obscuring her vision as she listened to the amplified sound of her heart thumping in her chest as the water closed over her.
Again Frank waited until she nearly lost consciousness before yanking her out of the icy grip of the water.
“You make me do this!” Frank shouted at her. Bloody tears drifted down his cheeks. “All I want to do is love you, but you get this little attitude and I know, I just know, that you’re up to no fucking good.”
“I was just making the spells,” Aimee sobbed miserably.
“No, you were hiding from me. Since we got back from Vegas you’ve been closing me off. I thought I was imagining it. You have your peculiarities, but I see your defiance. Why do you think your kind ends up dead so young?” Frank snarled and plunged her under again.
This time, he held Aimee under until she could no longer hold her breath. The edges of her vision began to tunnel awhile her lungs burned for oxygen and her muddled brain fought back. Her magic welled up inside of her, building in intensity. The need to survive fought against the blood bond. Tearing at his wrist with her nails, the water began to turn pink as drops of his vampire blood fell into the water.
Aimee thrashed about in the freezing water desperate for air. The need to breathe was overwhelming. Her lips parted and she dragged water into her lungs.
It was then her magic overcame the blood bond and erupted out of her. The icy pink water exploded out of the tub in a great wave, knocking Frank onto his back, and sloshing against the ceiling before raining over the bathroom.
Pretty When They Collide: A Novella in the Pretty When She Dies Universe (Volume 4) Page 9
