Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel)

by Linsey Hall

  “It’s not rocket science, honey.”

  “Everything after one of those cocktails feels like rocket science.”

  “Fair enough,” Beth said.

  “I need to be able to sneak into the morgue,” I explained.

  “And I need to go with her,” said Mac.

  Coraline nodded. “Okay. Two potions to change your looks.”

  “I don’t know if I need one,” Mac replied. “They won’t recognize me in the human world.”

  “Well, you’re getting one because we have two objects we want read.”

  “Deal,” I said. “I can do that when I get back.”

  “Now,” Coraline insisted.

  Her tone was firm, and I nodded. “Sure thing, boss.”

  Jeeves appeared again, a box in his hands. He looked at Mary as he set it on the table. “The things you requested, madam.”

  “Thanks, pal.” Mary slapped him on the back as he walked away, then pushed the box toward me. The grin she shot me made a shiver go down my spine, and I stared at the box like there might be a head inside.

  10

  Carrow

  “That was quick,” I said.

  “That’s me, babe.” Mary nodded to the box. “Now get reading.”

  I opened it slowly, revealing an old wine glass and an intricate silver brooch. I stared at them before touching. “I can’t control if I see past or present. But usually, what I see is useful.”

  “Useful how?” Mary asked.

  “It reveals when danger is coming, or when something terrible happened. Sometimes good stuff, too, but that’s rare.”

  “Well, try to see who once owned them.”

  “I’ll try.” True, my vision was currently blurry, and I felt like I might keel over on the bench soon, but maybe this would help.

  I drew in a deep breath and tried to imagine seeing the original owner. I had no idea if this was how magic worked, but I figured I might as well try.

  “Show me the owner,” I murmured, feeling like a crazy witch in an old movie.

  I glanced up at the three actual crazy witches in front of me, then down at the Cookie Monster bikini I was wearing. Hmm…not so far off the crazy witch vibe, myself.

  My fingers closed around the wine glass, and an image slammed into my head. A beautiful blonde woman dressed in some kind of old-fashioned clothing, like something from a World War II movie. Same for her precise makeup and sculpted updo. I could vaguely hear another person speaking in the background of the vision: “I told you I’d curse you, Ophelia.”

  Ophelia?

  A shadow appeared from the side, bringing with it a flash of pink light that enveloped Ophelia. Chanting sounded in a language that I didn't recognize, and I struggled to memorize the words. Ophelia shrieked, then shrank into a tiny silver brooch.

  I blinked, looking at the brooch that still sat in the box.

  It was the same.

  I jerked back, shock lancing through me.

  “What is it?” Mary’s voice interrupted my vision.

  I looked up. “Uh, I think this brooch might be a person.”

  “Told you.” Mary nudged Coraline. “What else did you see, Carrow?”

  I described the pink smoke and the words that the person had said, hoping I got them right. The witches seemed satisfied, at least from the looks on their faces.

  “Do the brooch now,” Mary said.

  I touched the brooch, which burned like hell. Blackness exploded in front of my vision, and I surged backward.

  “Shit.” Shaking my hand, I looked up. “I couldn’t see anything besides darkness.”

  “Well, that Ophelia is a bitch.”

  “And she’s now a brooch?” I looked down at the metal.

  “Yeah, and we’ve got to get her out,” Beth said.

  “I thought you said she was a bitch,” I said.

  “Yeah, she’s our bitch.” Coraline grinned. “What exactly did you see in the brooch?”

  “Blackness, like I said. Let me try again.”

  I touched it once more, and a shrieking sounded, followed by a bright flash of light in the shape of three triangles overlapping each other. I opened my eyes and described it to them.

  Mary nodded. “Thanks for your service. You’ve confirmed what we thought and told us the spell that turned her into that thing.”

  I didn’t remember telling them a spell, but they seemed satisfied. “No problem.”

  “Jeeves will bring you the potions to change your appearance.” Mary looked at Mac. “You both need to take them.”

  “In the meantime, enjoy the party.” Beth grinned.

  “We kind of need to get a move on,” I said, my head still woozy.

  “Well, you’re going to need to walk off your drunk a bit,” Coraline said. “Might as well do it here.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I looked at Mac, who nodded.

  The three witches left, hurrying off with their box. Which contained their friend.

  Weird.

  Mac looked at me. “I’m going to go try to find something so we can sober up some.”

  “Cool.” I turned and looked at the glittering room. People still danced, seeming to sway in front of my vision. A flash of movement in the corner caught my eye, and I blinked. “What was that?”

  “What?” Mac asked.

  “I swear I saw something.”

  Mac frowned. “You’re pissed.”

  “Maybe. But I saw something.”

  “Go investigate. I’ll find you soon.”

  “Deal.” I staggered toward the flicker of movement against the dark, glittering wall. My steps became more graceful the farther I walked, but I was still pretty out of my mind. Fortunately, the drunken dancers around me hid most of my awkwardness.

  As I neared the wall, the air seemed to vibrate slightly. I pushed my way through the rest of the crowd, finding a hallway. It was shadowed and apparently empty, but it beckoned to me.

  My heartbeat surged as I stepped toward it.

  Was someone in there?

  I moved forward, swaying only slightly now. I still felt drunk, but I at least had control of my limbs. I wasn’t going to faceplant.

  Anticipation surged through me as I stepped into the darkened hallway.

  I smelled him before I saw him—a spicy, whiskey-and-fireside scent. And the connection…that strange fizzing in my chest, a lightness I’d never felt before. The wire that connected us.

  The Devil of Darkvale was here.

  I squinted into the dark, barely able to make out the shadow of a man. He was huge, towering over me with a leonine grace that was all threat. My heart leapt into my throat as my hand flashed out and miraculously collided with a light switch. I flipped it on, and a faint golden glow gleamed from the ceiling.

  It cast the Devil in a fiery light that only seemed to emphasize his icy hardness. He leaned casually against the wall, every muscle perfectly still but ready to pounce. If I tried to run, he’d be on me in a heartbeat.

  Shadows flickered over his eerily perfect features, making his cheekbones look sharp as glass and his lips full and kissable. They didn’t fit with the rest of his hard face, and the contrast made something in my belly flutter.

  He was still dressed in an impeccable suit, but it didn’t make him look staid or boring or even like a businessman. No, he looked like a spy. If spies had fangs. I couldn’t see his now, but the memory of them flickered in my mind.

  “Why are you here?” I was glad that my voice sounded stable. I could still feel the wooziness that came with the drink I’d had earlier, but the sight of him sobered me up some.

  His gaze traveled down my body, and I remembered with a start that I was still dressed in the blue bikini. My hair was wet.

  We were a good two meters apart, but it was too close. I stepped back.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  “When you look at me like I’m a piece of steak, yeah.”

  “Not steak.”

  “No?”

  �
��Cake.”

  I scowled at him. “I am not food.” I pointed to his mouth. “And considering the fact that you do eat people, I’m finding that comparison a bit too close for comfort.”

  Something unidentifiable crossed his handsome face. “I don’t eat people.”

  “Hmm, I feel like you’re splitting hairs.” I kept my distance. “Why are you here?”

  “I followed you.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Why?”

  “You froze me in my own office.”

  “You scared me.”

  “I did?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah.” I shifted, wishing I had a weapon on me. It was weird to be attracted to someone I was terrified of.

  “Do you scare easily?”

  “Only when it’s wise.”

  “Is it wise now?”

  Something tingled down my spine, and I wondered. “Undetermined. Why are you here?”

  “I’m interested in you.”

  You. Not the murder, but you.

  Maybe because he was the murderer. I couldn’t rule it out, even though it seemed less likely. At least, it felt less likely. I hoped my attraction wasn’t driving me off the scent.

  Nerves shivered up my spine. “Oh?”

  An unseen force seemed to tug me toward him, and I resisted it. I wanted to get close enough to touch him, but I also wanted to walk out of here with all my fingers intact. Not to mention my throat.

  I reached for the vial hanging around my neck, unscrewed it from the chain., and held it up. “This is a truth serum from Eve. Drink it and tell me you didn’t commit this murder or the murder of a woman killed on Fleet Street on the twentieth of June last year.”

  His gaze moved between the little bottle and me. “Fine.”

  My heart thundered. He took the vial from me, his touch avoiding mine.

  In the flash of an eye, the potion was gone. “I didn’t murder either of those people.”

  The words flowed easily from his lips, and the slightest bit of tension left my body.

  “Who was the woman.”?” he asked.

  “A similar victim.”

  “With a necromancer’s mark?”

  “Yes.” I looked to the left of him.

  “Why won’t you look me in the eye?” he asked.

  “I’ve heard about your power to control people.”

  “I don’t need eye contact for it to work.”

  I frowned. “You haven't tried it on me, then?”

  “In fact, I have.” His hand moved toward my face, and I froze solid.

  Gently, his fingertips rested against my chin. The slightest pressure moved my head. Suddenly, I was looking right at him, unable to drag my gaze away from his icy eyes. It seemed like heat flickered in their depths, but that couldn’t be right. He was an ice-cold statue, no matter how much he heated me up inside. I’d never thought I had a death wish, but my interest in this guy suggested I had a big one.

  “I’m really immune to you?” I asked.

  “It seems that way.”

  “And that’s…rare?”

  “Exceedingly.” Interest rang in his voice.

  I wanted to know more about him. And that required touching. The contact between my face and his hand didn't count. I needed to lay my own hand upon him.

  I drew in a deep breath and slid closer, hoping he wouldn’t notice. His gaze sharpened as he watched me.

  “Do you want to use your power on me?” he asked.

  “You know about that?”

  “I know everything.”

  “Hardly.”

  “I do.”

  “What’s my favorite ice cream?”

  “Everything that matters.”

  “Oh, that matters.” I inched forward a bit under the guise of leaning against the wall.

  He held out his hand, palm up. “I know what you want. Go ahead.”

  I glared at him, not liking that I was transparent. I was also wearing about twelve square inches of fabric right now, so it wasn’t like I had any secrets here. And I wanted to know his secrets.

  Quick as a snake, I shot my hand out and gripped his.

  Heat surged up my arm, suffusing me with warmth. Attraction tightened in my lower belly, and a shiver ran over me.

  But there was no information to be had.

  I blinked up at him. “There’s nothing.”

  “Really?”

  “This can’t be right. My power always works.” It might not show me what I wanted to see, but it always showed me something. I tried not to focus on the place where our palms still met. Awareness buzzed through me, so intense that it made my head spin. I didn’t know if I wanted to run away or throw myself at him.

  Both.

  Visions of us in bed together flashed in my mind, but it was just my imagination. In fact, my imagination was pretty damned stellar at conjuring visions of him naked. Lots of lean muscle and eager hands and a hot mouth.

  Whoa, girl.

  I jerked my hand back, shocked.

  That was all my imagination. Right?

  “Done so soon?” he asked, his voice smooth.

  Gasping slightly, I tried to get it together. I was just drunk, that was all. And I should be using this opportunity to grill him for more information if I couldn’t read it from a touch.

  But what did it mean, the fact that our powers didn’t work on each other?

  “Why are you so interested in this murder?” I asked. “That is, if you aren’t the murderer.”

  “Would you be standing in a darkened hallway with a murderer?”

  “I’ve done worse. And I can protect myself.”

  “Without a weapon? Without shoes, even?”

  Yeah, he had a point. I was woefully underprepared. I could blame the witches and their potions all I wanted, but I’d gotten myself in here.

  I stepped back. “Well? Why are you so interested?”

  “Carrow?” Mac’s voice sounded from the room outside the hall. I turned to look for her and saw her enter the hallway with a confused frown. “What are you doing back here alone?” she asked.

  “Alone?” I turned back to the Devil, but he was gone. “Shit. That bastard.”

  “What bastard?”

  “The Devil of Darkvale came here.”

  Mac laughed like I was crazy. “That ambrosia hit you hard.”

  “No, I swear it.” I turned to her, heart pounding. “I know he was here. I saw him.”

  Mac’s brows rose. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wow. That’s unusual.”

  “He doesn’t normally come to this party?”

  She laughed again. “He doesn’t socialize at all. Honestly, I don’t know what he does in the evenings. Torture people for fun?”

  “If he really was Vlad the Impaler, then maybe.” The thought made me shiver. If history was anything to go by, Vlad had done horrible things. If he was truly a vampire, then those horrors could have been multiplied tenfold.

  And if the Devil really was that man, then I didn’t want his interest at all.

  Liar.

  “He came here for you?” Mac sounded nervous.

  “He said he was interested in me. And I got confirmation that his power doesn’t work on me. And that he didn’t commit the murders.”

  “He took Eve’s potion?”

  “Yep.”

  Mac whistled low. “Well, try to avoid him if you can, anyway.”

  I nodded. It was the best idea I’d heard all day, even as part of me screamed to get closer to him. “Ready to go?”

  “Yeah. Jeeves gave me the potions to change our faces. And I got some stuff to sober us up.” She shoved a glass at me. “Drink that. You’ll feel normal in no time.”

  I swigged it back as she drank her own.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said. “It’s nearly dawn.”

  “What?” Shock lanced me.

  “Time flies at the Witches’ Guild.”

  “No kidding.” Exhau
stion tugging at me, I followed her from the house. As we walked through the pool room, I passed Coraline and pointed to the bikini I still wore. “Can you put me back to normal here, please?”

  “Fine.” She gave me an up and down look. “But you look better like that.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. My own clothes, please.”

  “If you insist on those abominations.” She waved her hand at me, and my clothes reappeared on my body, replacing the bikini.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem, babe. Come on back anytime. We like you.”

  A bit of warmth flared to life inside me. More possible friends? The witches were kind of iffy, but that was cool.

  Not to mention the magic. That part, I certainly didn’t hate. It filled the air here, sparking off people as they partied and drank.

  Though it was almost dawn, the party was still heaving. People danced, so many of them that the crush of bodies was nearly impossible to navigate. All around, revelers with horns and fangs and wings danced the night away, living their best life. Like it was normal that they existed.

  Which it was.

  Thank God it was.

  My life had been in black and white, and now it finally felt like it was in color.

  We were almost to the foyer when a hand grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. I spun around, instinct making me ready to lash out.

  A small woman held me, her grip shockingly strong for someone her size. Her face seemed to flicker between age and youth, a shimmery apparition that was hard to focus on. She was beautiful in either version—I just wanted her to pick one.

  Her eyes burned with pale fire as she stared hard at me, her brow creased. I felt Mac appear at my side, but I couldn’t turn away. The woman’s gaze had me snared.

  The crowd parted to give us space. No one turned to watch us, but there was something about the woman’s presence that made them give her a wide berth.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “You are as I expected.”

  “What?” I frowned down at her.

  “You are the one who will thaw him.”

  “Thaw who?”

  “She’s not a Fire Mage,” Mac said.

  The woman ignored her, leaning up to peer more closely into my eyes. “Be wary, girl. You are bound to the Devil, and you may grow to like it, but there is danger there. Grave danger.”