“Even after I ravage you—and believe me, I intend to—my appetite for you will not be sated.”
My mouth formed a little ‘o’ but no sound came out. It doesn’t happen often, but that rendered me speechless. Satisfied that he had finally penetrated my thick skull, he informed me he was going to get me some more juice and that I had to clean my plate.
“I’ll take a coffee instead.” Fidgeting with the pillows at my back, I hollered my request.
He came back with more orange juice. “You need the sugar.”
“You could have just put extra sugar in the coffee.”
“Juice is a quick way to get your blood sugar back up.” Aidan smiled at the sour look I gave the glass of o.j.
“You can sit down. I feel way better.” I gave the mattress a little pat.
“If I get into that bed with you, we won’t get anything done.”
“Oh, things will get done,” I teased.
“Maurin.” He tried to keep his tone serious.
“Aidan?” With a crooked brow, I gave him my best come hither look.
His jaw twitched, hands clenched and unclenched. It took a lot of control for him not to move.
And a lot of control for me not to get out of bed and go to him. “Fine.” I sighed. “Have it your way.”
Chapter 18
“We’re going to have to call the coven.” With my coffee scoop missing in action, I used a tablespoon and eyeballed the grounds for my pot of coffee.
Walking and talking without difficulty, I’d been cleared by my vampire doctor to drink coffee. I made twelve cups.
“Tell me you’re not actually considering asking for help from them after what they did to you?” Aidan shook his head, clearly exasperated with my line of thinking.
“I’m not thrilled about it either, believe me, but I don’t see how we’re going to kill the Afrit without their help.”
Without the coven’s magic catching and containing it would be next to impossible.
“I’m sure we can come up with something.”
“Wait, don’t tell me. You passed your OWLS, so you can use magic to kill it.”
“I passed my what?”
Aidan obviously hadn’t spent his eternal life of movies and pop-culture.
“It’s from Harry Potter…never mind. Unless vampires suddenly become magically-inclined, we’re going to need the witches.”
“What about your sword? It was forged with magic.”
“I already thought about that when I was fighting him downstairs. I think it might work, but how are we going to find him?”
“He seems to be doing a damned good job of finding you, actually.”
“I’d feel better if we had someone who could cast a circle to bind him next time.”
“I don’t trust Mahalia.” Temper getting the best of him, his fangs slid into place.
“Well, that makes two of us.” I said.
“She’s still hiding something from you.”
“Is there something that you want to tell me?” Suddenly afraid he was keeping secrets too, I set my coffee cup down and met his gaze, trying to gauge if he was lying.
“No, I have nothing to hide from you. But the witch? I could tell that she wasn’t telling you everything.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me, but unless you think that it has something to do with the Afrit, it will have to wait.”
Aidan didn’t say anything else. He just sat back in my kitchen chair brooding. I really didn’t want to go crawling back to Mahalia, but according to what I’d read, I wasn’t going to kill the Afrit without help from someone in the coven. Aidan was just going to have to trust me, and I was going to have to figure out a way to work with the coven amiably.
“Have you seen my phone?” With years to practice, the vampire had mastered the silent treatment. “Aidan, have you seen my phone?”
Refusing to speak or help me look for my phone, he just shook his head and remained where he was. either.
Retracing my steps, I recalled grabbing my phone from my bag and putting it in my coat pocket with some cash before I left for the diner. Was the phone in my pocket when I got my money out at the diner? Yes. I went back home and had a run-in with the Afrit. Was it still in my coat pocket after that? Hell if I knew.
“Where’s my coat? Never mind, I see it.” It was right where I had left it—on the floor by the kitchen chair and Aidan’s foot.
He picked it up and held it out to me. Snatching it out of his hands was an exercise in futility, but that didn’t’ stop me from trying. As expected, he didn’t let go and used the coat to reel me onto his lap. “I know working with the coven is probably our only shot, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“I’m not a huge fan of the plan myself, but it’s the only one that we’ve got.”
“I know. This is probably a good time to inform you that vampires are jealous and overprotective creatures.”
“Well, get used to having no free time, because trying to protect me will consume your every waking moment. I seem to attract trouble. And demons.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
I dug in my coat pocket and came up empty handed. Shit. My phone must have fallen out of my pocket in Ms. Costa’s apartment.
“Can I borrow your phone?”
“Sure. It’s on the counter next to my keys. Where’s yours?”
“I’m not one hundred-percent sure, but I think that I dropped it in Ms. Costa’s apartment.”
“You call Amalie, and I’ll go get your phone.”
“You’re going to have to let me get up if we’re going to accomplish anything, Damn, I locked the door on my way out. I didn’t want her to think that someone broke into her apartment. She’s old, and she lives alone.”
He reluctantly released me and just as reluctantly I stood up.
“Yes, but now you’ll have to explain to her how your phone ended up inside her apartment. Do you think that she’s still alive?” he asked, obviously not at all convinced.
“I’m hoping. There was nothing in her apartment that led me to believe otherwise. I was going to call Masarelli after I talked to Amalie.”
He gave me the same look my mom did when she flushed my deceased pet fish down the toilet.
“I checked. There wasn’t any blood and no sign of a struggle. The dog’s leash wasn’t hanging by the door like it always is either.”
“Okay, so why call Masarelli at all?” Aidan drummed his fingers on the tabletop “We don’t need him trailing after us.”
“I didn’t say that I was inviting him to tag along. I just want him to send someone over later and see if she’s home. It’s not like either of us will have time to check up on her.”
“I doubt that he’ll be able to spare a man just to come check on one little, old lady after what happened at the station last night.”
“Aidan,” I warned.
Aidan raised his hands, placating any further argument.
“Okay, sorry. Make your calls.”
I called Amalie. Vampires have excellent hearing so I knew Aidan would be able to hear both sides of the conversation. This was a time saver actually, since I didn’t have to tell him what she said.
“Amalie, it’s Maurin.”Knowing she wouldn’t recognize the number, I immediately announced myself.
“Maurin, where are you? I’ve left you like a hundred messages.” Her concern sounded genuine and that helped ease some of the doubts about whether or not she knew what was happening.
“I’m home. Lost my phone.”
“Is this a landline? Are you at your apartment?”
“I’m using Aidan’s phone.” My answers were short, my tone clipped but it was harder than I expected, asking for the coven’s help after what they did.
“Aidan? He’s there? Now? You let him stay with you?” Amalie’s concern echoed through the phone.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I did. Do you have a problem with that?”
She didn’t seem all that thri
lled with my new house guest.
Aidan appeared to find the conversation highly amusing so far.
“No, of course not. I mean… I’m just surprised. Anyway, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you because we did a little research on the Afrit.” Quickly changing the subject, the witch tried to bring the conversation back to neutral ground.
“That’s funny, that’s why I’m calling you.”
Except it wasn’t funny, nothing about the situation was even remotely amusing.
“Really?” He voice rose an octave at the end.
“There you go sounding surprised again.” Not that I blamed her. I guess I’d be surprised if I was her
“I didn’t mean to. It’s just, I thought…” She started, but stopped herself midsentence.
“What? That I’d be on my floor in the fetal position balling my eyes out because of Oberon? Or Mahalia? I’ve been hurt worse by better people.”
There was a moment of awkward silence before she said anything else.
“Okay. Umm, listen, can you come over? Or meet me at the Daily Grind or something?”
“I’m always the one running everywhere. Why don’t you just come here?” Rubbing my temples, I tried to stop a headache before it started.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll stop at the Grind on my way and pick us up some coffee, and if you’re lucky, maybe a couple of croissants. Be there in thirty.” Amalie hung up without waiting for a reply.
One down. One to go. With my phone and contact list MIA, I called the main number for SPTF and asked to speak to Masarelli. The dispatcher transferred my call to his desk. He picked up on the second ring.
My conversation with him lasted about two minutes and consisted of me telling him what happened in Ms. Costa’s apartment and asking him to have someone keep an eye out for her. Up to his ass in brass over what had happened at the station, and he couldn’t afford to send any men over here unless the Afrit was actually still in her apartment. After informing him that he was going to have a hard time wading through all of that brass with my foot squarely up his ass if he didn’t have a guy in a patrol car put this on his route, he seemed to warm up to the idea. I could be such a charmer.
Parched after all that chatting on the phone, I went for another cup of coffee. I had just pulled the pot off the hot plate when I realized the bottom of my Social Distortion shirt was shredded. The Afrit’s claws had ripped through my wool coat and destroyed my shirt.
“Son of a bitch. I’m going to kill it twice. I’m going to kill it, and then find someone to bring it back as a zombie so I can kill it again.”
“What?” Aidan laughed.
“Look what it did to my shirt.”
“Your shirt? You’re more upset about your shirt than your leg.” He was still laughing.
"I love this shirt, and now it’s trashed.” Little strips of fabric slipped through my fingers.
“I’ll buy you a new one.”
“This is vintage. You can’t just buy a new one. It won’t be the same.” I tried to explain, but a vintage tour shirt was not the same to him as vintage Chanel might be.
Muttering the whole way back to my room about the different ways I was going to kill the Afrit; I chose a fitted, black V-neck sweater and jeans for my next wardrobe change. The leggings went in the trash and the Social Distortion shirt went in the hamper. I just couldn’t bring myself to part with it yet.
Amalie was knocking on the door just as I came out of my room. I let her in and took the tray of coffee and the bag of croissants from her.
She stepped in and started taking off her coat.
Nudging the door closed with my hip, I turned when it bounced off a boot and the door knob hit me in the backside. A growl formed in the back of my throat. I knew those boots.
“Who the hell invited him?” I rounded on Amalie.
“It’s not just him.” She gave me a sheepish look as Oberon, Graive, and Mahalia followed her inside.
It was a good thing I was holding the coffee, or I might have thrown them out and slammed the door in their faces. Wasn’t it me who had said we needed the coven not even forty-five minutes before? Yes, I told myself, but I had hoped she’d bring Juno or Phallon with her. Not the co-conspirators.
“Maurin, are you—” Oberon interrupted my thought.
“Don’t talk to me unless you want a black eye to match that busted jaw.” white knuckling the coffee tray, I tried to pull myself together before coffee went flying.
“Well, that will complicate things,” Graive took Oberon’s hand and led him into the living room.
The necro wasn’t willing me to catch fire and die a crispy death with her eyes anymore. Guess she didn’t hate me now that I wasn’t trying to steal—unintentionally, I might add—her boyfriend anymore. Wasn’t that great news? We could be BFFs and go shopping and whatever else BFFs do. Not!
Amalie shed her coat and gloves and took the coffee tray and croissants back. She set everything down on the appropriately named coffee table and busied herself with passing out drinks. “Maurin, I understand your anger and mistrust, but we must work together now. I am certain that we can get through the evening without any more fighting.” She went to join the others on my couch.
Easy for you to say. I stood at the door a moment and tried to regain my composure before I went over to sit with them. I can do this, I can do this.
Thankfully, Aidan came out of the kitchen to join the conversation. Cool and casual as he strode barefoot across the carpet, he stopped when he was about the same distance from the room as I was. He was waiting for me.
It was right about then, walking side by side with Aidan, that I realized it wasn’t my heart Oberon had hurt, but my pride. Was there a physical attraction? Sure, but not a ‘tear off your clothes, I can’t control myself when I’m around you’ attraction. There was only that one instance where I literally threw myself at him in Mahalia’s office, and that was for an entirely different reason. There was a tangled-up mess of emotions when I first came into my powers that would have straightened themselves out had Mahalia simply left things alone.
Maybe the metaphysical tie would have gone away on its own too. Oberon was like a magical safety net, someone to guide me as I adjusted to my new abilities and came into my full powers. Scota only latched on to him because she had recognized his magic.
Everything I felt really was because of her, despite Mahalia and Oberon trying to convince me otherwise. The transformation, for lack of a better word, was complete. Scota was my past, and I was her future. But it was still me—a more powerful, ass-kicking me—and my feelings were finally my own again. I let that settle in for a second and then sat down on my couch, noticeably calm and confident.
Aidan sat down beside me with his arms stretched out over the back of the couch. Oberon’s expression darkened as soon as Aidan slid close enough that he and I were both on the same cushion. It was the same look Oberon had given him in the alley when we were all at the warehouse together.
Having Aidan at my side felt a bit like revenge and I didn’t feel bad about it in the least. Of course, Oberon probably just put some of the blame on Aidan for how things had worked out, but in my head he was seething with jealousy. Delusional, who me?
“I’ve been scouring my library for information on the Afrit since you left my house last night. Amalie tells me that you’ve been doing some research of your own.” Mahalia steepled her fingers in front of her mouth.
“I googled it.”.
“So it would seem that fate would have us as allies once again.” eying me over her fingertips, she waited for my agreement.
“Yeah, fate and I have never seen eye to eye on anything. I’m assuming that you have a plan?”
Remain calm, remain calm. Mahalia’s voice set my teeth on edge and my temper rising, so I repeated the mantra over and over again.
Graive pulled out an old grim moiré from her bag and set it on her lap. The book was held closed with a heavy iron latch, which seemed utterly pointless
given its condition. Cracked and worn, the leather threatened to break free of the spine, causing its secrets to spill out onto my living room floor. Reaching into her shirt, she retrieved the key she kept on a chain that hung low around her neck.
“This is the Lesser Key of Solomon.” Unclasping the necklace, Graive used the key to open the tome.
“Mahalia, no!” Amalie gasped. Her eyes were as big as saucers.
Content to follow her priestess with blind devotion, I’d never seen Amalie react that way before. Not to mention, I felt Aidan stiffen beside me when Graive named the book she was holding. I was missing something. Oberon was watching me, waiting to see what I would do or say. Did he assume I knew what the book was or what it did? He must have forgotten what they say about assuming. Of course he was already an ass in my mind, so it didn’t really matter.
“Could someone give me the Reader’s Digest version of what the Lesser Key is?”
“It is believed by some, mostly those not born with a magical inclination that the Key and Lesser Key were written by Solomon. That Solomon had, in fact, trapped seventy-two demons and kept them in a jar. He detailed everything about them—names, hierarchy, and even how to summon them.” The look on Oberon’s face said he was enjoying the fact that I still needed him for something. He was clearly overlooking the fact that it wasn’t him as much as any person with magical abilities.
“Why would Solomon want to keep demons? I thought he was a holy man. And how would he fit seventy-two of them in a jar?” I asked, not really sure where this conversation was going, but absolutely positive I wouldn’t like it when we arrived.
“To build the temple, of course.” Smug as usual, Graive acted like I was the village idiot for not knowing all of this already.
“Of course. How silly of me.” Sarcasm dripped from my every word.
“There are some problems with the story and what’s in the books. Solomon was B.C., not A.D. It doesn’t all match up. Which begs the question about who really wrote it,” Amalie said.
“The Key is thought to go back to Greco-Roman times, but it was later translated and adopted by the Practical Kabbalah. The tie to the mystical branch of Judaism is probably where the Inquisitors’ belief that they could use it came from. Less is known about the origin of the Lesser Key.” Nice to know Graive’s derisive tone wasn’t reserved just for me.
Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 169
