An American Witch in Paris

by Michele Hauf

  On the other hand, this adventure had introduced her to Ethan Pierce. And she wasn’t going to begrudge that happy side effect.

  The men leading their merry gang stopped walking. Ethan turned and looked to her and Savin, cupping a hand around his ear as a signal that they listen.

  Gazariel stretched out an arm to indicate they should continue walking. “What are we—?” Savin hushed him.

  Ethan glanced at the glowing sigil on the demon’s chest and then nodded toward the end of the pathway, where the faintest glimmer of golden light flickered. The scent of flame mingled with the dusty dry limestone.

  “Is it her?” Tuesday asked the demon.

  Gazariel listened, swore, then nodded. He strode away from the front of the line.

  “Onward,” Ethan announced and took up the pace.

  When he reached a T-turn, he stopped without going around the corner toward the light. Tuesday walked up to him and he slipped his hand into hers. “Listen,” he said. They both listened to what the vampiress was saying just around the corner.

  Tuesday didn’t have to eavesdrop for long, or even understand the meaning of the words. The vampiress’s tone and cadence made her heart drop in her chest. “She’s chanting an invocation. She’s cracked the code, Ethan. She’s begun the spell.”

  “We need to move now.” Ethan pulled a stake from his thigh holster, surprising Tuesday that he would wield such a thing. He nodded to CJ, who confirmed the command to move. “Get the demon up here.”

  Savin shoved Gazariel up toward the turn.

  “What the hell do you want me to do?” Gazariel said in a tight whisper. “Did you see the scratches on my face? I’m not her favorite person at the moment.”

  “Talk her down. Get her to stop speaking the spell,” Ethan said. “Or she dies.”

  “With that?” The demon snapped a finger against the stake Ethan held. “That’s not going to scare her. She’s been staked once before. Survived.”

  Savin gaped. Tuesday knew it was possible for a vampire to survive a staking if he left the stake in and allowed it to slowly work its way out of the body while it healed. Not a fast process, or, she imagined, painless.

  “Then we’ll use magic,” CJ offered. “Get in there now, Gazariel. She’s speaking the spell. We can’t let her advance to a final declaration to open the very heavens Above.”

  The demon stood firm.

  So Ethan tugged out a blade from a holster at his back hip and flashed it before Gazariel’s face.

  “Is that...?” Gazariel swallowed. “A Sinistari blade? Are you kidding me?”

  “Does it look like I’m kidding?” Ethan asked.

  With a sigh of resignation, the demon led the way into a vast chamber that was lit with dozens of black candles. Flames flickered wild crimson flashes on the stone floor and walls. A dais toward the back of the limestone chamber revealed Anyx standing with her back to them, her arms spread wide. Silver jewelry glinted in her hair and at her wrists and waist. She wore a black sheath and no shoes. All around her a circle of candles flickered. And a dark liquid glinted in the pentacle drawn within that circle.

  “Blood,” Tuesday said as she recognized the ceremony. Where she’d gotten so much blood—the chick was a vampire. Stupid to even wonder.

  Ethan joined Gazariel, who stood stymied by the scene. They didn’t walk up to Anyx because a shallow trench about three feet wide and flowing with water dissected them from her.

  Tuesday gestured to the flames flickering on the water. “A repulsion spell,” she said to the men. “If you cross the water, even try to leap over it, you’ll go up in flames.”

  “Defeat it,” Ethan commanded her.

  Not at all miffed that he’d sharply ordered her to do something, Tuesday spread her arms wide and chanted a suppression spell. There was no spell a vampiress could enact that she, a witch, could not counter.

  Meanwhile Gazariel, nudged on by the threat of Ethan’s blade, called, “Anyx! Come on, sweetie, let’s not destroy the world today. I really like having humans around. Who’s going to make my favorite filet mignon if they are all dead? And who’s going to feed you, huh? Have you thought about that? You’ll starve, bitch!”

  The vampiress paused in her chanting, tilted her head, but did not turn to them. She was smart. If she paused the spell too long, it would dissipate.

  A sweep of Tuesday’s hand and the utterance “Deflagro!” snuffed the flames on the water. With an all-clear nod from her, Ethan jumped across, followed by Savin. Gazariel stayed put.

  “So much power,” Anyx called. “I must own it!” Now she turned, and with an elegant spread of her arms out from her sides and a curl of her fingers, she announced, “Sarax conti expulsius!”

  The stone walls shuddered. Dust spumed from cracks, increasing the dry perfumed air. Ethan looked to Tuesday. She wasn’t positive, but those could have been the final words to activate the spell. When the blood surrounding the vampiress began to bubble, then she was sure.

  “That was it,” she said.

  “The code?” Ethan asked.

  “Yeah, I’m not one-hundred-percent sure of the words, but I’m pretty sure they can be interpreted as ‘open sesame, let the angels all fall down.’ Get her out of that circle!” Tuesday turned and CJ already stood beside her. “We’ve got to penetrate her casting circle and strangle the spell.”

  Anyx shouted over her shoulder at Gazariel, “You were nothing more than a tool, you idiot demon!” And then she turned around completely. Elegant black hair, heavy like oil, spilled down her back. Eyes decorated with kohl glimmered with red. A visible red aura, much thicker than a vampire’s usual aura, floated about her body. She was a part of the spell. It was her blood flowing in the water. Her scanning gaze stopped on the approaching vampire. “Ethan?”

  Tuesday felt the intensity of the spell falter. The vampiress had to hold her focus to keep it going. If she was suddenly reunited with her ex? Fuck, she really didn’t want to do this, but—“Go to her, Ethan!”

  Stake held at the ready, Ethan approached the circle.

  “It’s really you? I’ve missed you, Ethan.” Anyx took a step forward. Then, realizing she neared the edge of the circle, she stopped. Arms stretched out, she unfolded her fingers toward him. “Come to me. We can be together in the new world I am creating.”

  “Really?” Tuesday heard Gazariel mutter behind her.

  “Anyx, you can’t do this,” Ethan said.

  Tuesday and CJ quickly drew a circle on the limestone floor with black chalk before the flowing stream. A channel cut through the rock from the stream to the dais, which was exactly what they needed. CJ flung out herbs and crushed troll hearts and recited a powerful cleansing spell.

  Tuesday drew out the athame and looked at her wrist. Blood was needed.

  “A whole freakin’ lot of it,” she muttered, feeling her heart fall to her gut. They needed as much blood as had already been spilled to counteract the spell.

  This had become a no-return mission, and she was not happy about that. Because hey, she’d kind of thought that finding love would be a good thing. Like it was time to give it a go. And she’d found a man she wanted to risk that chance on.

  Too late for regrets now. She wouldn’t ask anyone else to do this. The magic in her veins was powerful and dark. Strong enough to subdue a spell a mere vampiress had cast.

  Tuesday closed her eyes. “Fuck. Really?” The cut of the blade against her wrist did not yet pain her because she hadn’t pressed deeply. If there was any other option, she wanted to hear it. Right now.

  Five feet away from her, Anyx and Ethan had taken to arguing. He was trying to move her out of the casting circle but it continued to repulse him every time he tried to breach it with a stab of the wood stake.

  “Gazariel!” Tuesday snapped her fingers. “Help him!”

  With a heavy s
igh, the demon leaped across the stream and started an argument with Anyx over her fickle ways. But when he mentioned her inability to come because she was a frigid bitch, she snarled and turned to face the dais again. One shout from the angered vampiress again ignited the flames in the stream. CJ hissed, as he was nearly burned, and then jumped inside the circle with Tuesday.

  “We ready?” he asked her.

  “I’ll provide the blood,” she said.

  He looked at her then, knowing what the sacrifice would mean. They’d not discussed who would do this. Because it wasn’t something a witch on a suicide mission would discuss. They’d wait until the last minute and hope upon hope it wouldn’t be necessary.

  “You sure?” CJ asked. “Maybe we should give Ethan a moment to see if he can get her out of the circle.”

  “Not going to happen. And we’re all out of moments. We have to do this now.” And as if on cue, the stone walls rumbled and the stream spat up fire. Tuesday pressed the athame tight over her wrist. “It’s going to take a while to bleed out.”

  “No!”

  Tuesday ignored Ethan’s sudden shout. Bits of limestone began to rain from the cavern ceiling. It was now or never.

  Tuesday drew the blade over her skin, but it didn’t cut deeply because Ethan grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her out of the circle. The vampire caught the athame as she dropped it. Tuesday landed hard on the stone floor. And she looked up to see Ethan draw the blade across his carotid. Blood spurted and he bowed over the circle as CJ directed.

  “No!” she cried.

  It was too late. She had been pushed outside the circle and Ethan’s blood had conjured up a seal. She couldn’t enter it if she tried.

  Her lover dropped to the floor and stretched out his hand to her. She could not touch him. What the hell was he doing?

  She crawled up to the circle. “I wish you hadn’t done this. I won’t let you bleed out. I can’t. There’s enough blood, yes, Certainly?”

  The dark witch shook his head. “We need so much.”

  Tuesday bowed her head. She would lose the one person she had just realized she cared about most. It wasn’t fair. Ethan was already growing weak from blood loss. His eyelids shuttered. The hand he held extended, dropped limply onto the stone floor.

  “Help me!” CJ called as he began the chant that would shut off the Final Days spell.

  Though her heart had just broken and shattered, Tuesday nodded and crawled forward. Compelled to stop an evil that could harm so many more, she spread out her palms, embracing the circle and sending energy through her being. She matched CJ’s tone with her own rhythmic chants.

  Out the corner of her eye she saw the vampiress dash toward the entrance. Gazariel called to the reckoner to go after her and Savin did so.

  And from behind her Gazariel suddenly let out an ear-shattering cry that harkened to the angels, who spoke in myriad tongues to mimic all the beasts on the planet.

  Tuesday’s chest suddenly burned as if the fire had leaped from the nearby stream to singe her. She struggled to concentrate, to focus her vibrations toward the circle and her dying lover. Ethan now barely supported himself. His blood streamed toward the fire. When it touched the flames, they flashed brilliant white and danced up the channel toward the dais.

  The fire in her chest was unbearable. Tuesday screamed. The magic she put out suddenly left her in one final gushing effort. In the circle, CJ managed to capture that magic and directed it toward the dais, where the magic ball splashed into violet flames.

  The limestone walls ceased shuddering.

  CJ dropped to his knees over Ethan.

  And Tuesday fell backward, yet landed in Gazariel’s arms.

  Chapter 24

  The demon bowed over Tuesday, inspected her face and smoothed the hair away from her eyes. “The vampire did it,” he said in amazement. “He broke the curse.”

  “The Final Days?” she murmured weakly.

  “Well, that, too. I think. We won’t know until we go topside and see if all the tourists are flambéed, eh? But, Tuesday, the curse you’ve carried for centuries—it’s gone. Didn’t you feel it? I certainly did.”

  She slapped a palm to her chest, where the sigil had burned so viciously she’d felt as though her insides would sizzle. “But...”

  “A true love willing to die for you.” Gazariel spoke the means to breaking the spell. “He sacrificed for you, witch. And I am also clean now. That damn curse is completely erased!”

  “But that means... Ethan!” She shoved out of Gazariel’s arms and scrambled toward the circle, where CJ now stood over the fallen vampire. The dark witch stepped out and jumped across the stream to inspect the dais.

  The vampire was lying on his back, arms splayed, eyes wide, his mouth open and the blood continuing to pour from his carotid. Tuesday slapped her palm to the open wound. Blood spurted. She summoned a healing incantation, but it sputtered and merely sprinkled over Ethan’s neck. She’d depleted her magic to stop the Final Days.

  “CJ, help me! I have to stop the bleeding or he’ll die.”

  The dark witch returned to the circle, which was no longer necessary to keep closed, and kneeled beside her. “I think he’s already dead.”

  “No!” She took the dark witch’s hand and pressed it over the wound on Ethan’s neck. “Recite the blessing for a vampire’s everlasting life.”

  They did so together while the demon stalked around them, observing. Such a blessing was a powerful invocation that a witch could perform for a vampire, granting him immortality that even a stake or beheading would find difficult to overcome. It was rarely used. And only the most powerful witches could summon such a thing.

  After minutes of desperate chanting CJ tugged his hand away from Ethan’s neck. “It’s not working. We’ve both depleted our magic. If anything might work—he needs blood. That’s a vampire’s best hope for survival.”

  “Then he’ll have it.” Tuesday searched for the athame and found it tucked under Ethan’s leg. Without a second thought, she drew it across her wrist and pressed it to Ethan’s mouth. “Come on, Ethan! Don’t leave me now!”

  He didn’t move, so she had to press her wrist tight against his mouth. He didn’t swallow.

  “Sit him upright,” CJ directed Gazariel. “Help me!”

  “I’m rather of the mind to get the hell out of here,” the demon said.

  Tuesday hissed at the demon. “I saved you from being consigned to Daemonia. You will help. Now!”

  Begrudgingly, Gazariel helped CJ set Ethan upright so the blood would flow down his throat. It took a while, but after a few minutes Tuesday saw his Adam’s apple pulse. He had swallowed. And she was growing distinctly weaker. She’d expelled so much magic that even a little blood loss was not going to keep her upright for long.

  Her eyelids fluttered.

  “You can’t do this,” CJ said. “We need another donor.”

  “You,” Gazariel said to the dark witch.

  CJ tapped a tattoo on his neck. “Can’t. I’m warded against vamps. If he drinks my blood it’ll kill him for sure.”

  “He’s warded against demons, too,” Gazariel said with a nod toward Ethan’s throat.

  “We need the vampiress. Go get her!” Tuesday commanded the demon.

  “Seriously?”

  Tuesday wanted to argue with the obstinate demon, but it was all she could do to keep her eyelids open and her focus on Ethan. He was swallowing now, and that was a good sign.

  But with a flutter of her eyelids, she passed out.

  * * *

  Tuesday came to and the first thing she saw was her vampire lover embracing his ex-wife. He held Anyx’s slender body to his chest and gripped her head to hold it aside as he supped at her neck. His hand caressed her breast where the thin black sheath had slid aside to expose the nipple, and she moaned in ecstasy.
And Ethan increased his efforts, drinking from her. Taking from her. Enjoying her. Rubbing her nipple to give her pleasure.

  That was not a life-saving moment. It was a graphic display of sexual desire.

  Backing away on the limestone floor, Tuesday’s back hit a wall. Someone grasped her hand and helped her to stand. “You okay?”

  “No,” she said to CJ. And she wasn’t. Her head felt as if someone was stirring her brains with a spatula. And her chest might explode if she did not—“I need air. I have to get out of here. Now.”

  Turning, she crept out of the chamber in the direction they had come. No one followed her blood-drained wobbling pace. CJ would stay behind and keep an eye on Ethan. She hadn’t recalled seeing either Gazariel or Savin in the chamber. Only the two ex-lovers entwined in a disgustingly sensual embrace.

  Vampires did not have to hold their donors so...intimately. Taking blood could be functional and discreet. They couldn’t have been closer if they had climbed inside one another. She didn’t want to think about it. She wanted to erase that image from her brain.

  Stumbling blindly forth, Tuesday entered a dark tunnel and summoned a glow of light on her palm. It sputtered. She was weak. She needed rest and to heal. To restore after the tremendous expulsion of magic and blood. She’d given Ethan her blood to save him.

  But what had she saved him for? A grand reunion with his former wife.

  Noticing the strong coppery smell from the old electrical wires that had greeted her upon descent into the catacombs, she knew the surface must be close and raced forward. And there by the old wood door that led into the bowels of the church above, stood Gazariel.

  “I need to get out of here.” She pushed past the demon, but he gripped her wrists. She did not bleed anymore and stopping movement now brought the woozy dizziness up again. Standing still was impossible. Her world wobbled. Or did she?

  “You’re weak, witch. You need rest.”

  “I will. But I need air now!” She faltered.

  Gazariel lifted her into his arms and carried her up and through the ancient church basement. It was well into the morning hours, so the church was closed to tourists and their exit was not observed.