Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel)

by Linsey Hall

  “Bound?” Was she talking about the Devil of Darkvale?

  “Like, Fated Mates?” Mac demanded. “Impossible.”

  “Yes, impossible,” the woman said. “Turned vampires do not have Fated Mates like born vampires do. But turned vampires like the Devil—the immortal ones—have Cursed Mates. Beware. It could cost you your life.”

  “What the heck?” Cursed mates?

  The woman let go of my arm and disappeared.

  Like, really disappeared, right into thin air.

  Shit, shit, shit. I didn’t like any of this. I didn’t understand it. And I didn’t want to believe it.

  But there was no denying everything I’d seen in the last twenty-four hours. Magic was real, and it had me in its grip.

  I looked up at Mac. “Cursed mates?”

  “Never heard of it.”

  I shrugged I off, not liking the sound of it. “Who the hell was that, anyway?”

  “We call her the Oracle, but no one knows for certain. She’s the most powerful seer in the city—way more powerful than me. She’s lived here for centuries.”

  “Yeah, her face was…” I waved my hand in front of my own and made an expression that suggested nuts.

  “I don’t know what that is, either. But let’s get out of here.” She tugged my arm, and I followed her, head spinning.

  Mac and I pushed our way through the crowd, approaching Jeeves, who stood with the door already open. The frown on his face was dour as he looked at the two of us, and I could already hear him saying, “Good riddance,” as he shut the door on our retreating backs.

  “Toodles, Jeeves, my love.” Mac wiggled her fingers in his face as she sailed by.

  “Thanks,” I said, following her into the predawn.

  The air was crisp and fresh, but still, heat seemed to suffuse me. I turned back to look at the tower.

  Was the Devil watching?

  It sure felt like he was.

  11

  Carrow

  Mac and I hurried down the creaky wooden stairs of the Witches’ Guild, the sound of the party following us across the lawn. I glanced behind again, half-expecting to see the Devil of Darkvale staring after me.

  He’d come to the party just for me.

  But he wasn’t standing there. And neither was Jeeves. The door was shut, but the party was still making the leaning wooden building shake.

  I turned back and hurried along with Mac, the early dawn sun beginning to turn the sky a light gray.

  I liked Mac. I really liked having her help through this magical new world. But there was no fooling myself. I was alone in this. I had always been alone, and I always would be.

  I shook away the negative thoughts—they were total bull—and stepped onto one of the narrow streets that led back toward her place.

  Wait, was that where we were headed?

  Exhaustion pulled at me, and I looked at Mac. “Do you mind if I crash on your couch for a few hours? I’m beat, and I don’t think we should try to sneak into the morgue in broad daylight. Too many people.”

  She nodded. “Of course. Where else would you go?”

  “There?” I pointed to a little wrought iron bench that sat in front of a shop selling enchanted witches’ hats of all styles and colors. “Unless there’s a hotel around forty pounds a night. Because that’s all I’ve got.”

  “Yeah, you’re on my couch. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Thank you.” I couldn’t believe my luck in finding someone like Mac to help me. I was going to need to pay her back big time.

  As we neared her flat, I began to feel someone watching me.

  The Devil?

  No. His attention had a weight that made me prickle with anticipation and wariness.

  This…wasn’t like that.

  It felt almost like family.

  I looked around the old street, which was dead silent in the hour before dawn. It was empty save for a few purple pigeons and the motion behind the shop windows—cauldrons bubbling away, enchanted clothing dancing, and quills writing on scrolls like their feathers were on fire.

  Finally, my gaze landed on two small green eyes high against a building. There, on a ledge, sat a raccoon.

  “Cordelia?”

  Mac looked at me. “Who the heck is Cordelia?”

  “That raccoon.” I pointed to the furry little creature.

  “You sure? Did it tell you its name?”

  “No. I—” I paused. This was nuts. “Forget it. I’m going crazy.”

  “We all are, honey.” Mac rubbed my arm. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Cordelia stared down at me, the weight of her gaze heavy. Then she disappeared, jumping down into an alley and losing herself amongst the shadows.

  Strange.

  Mac led us to her flat and got me set up on the couch. As soon as I lay down, my whole body seemed to melt. “Thank you so much.”

  “No problem.” She disappeared into her room, shouting out, “See you in the afternoon. Then we can make our game plan for the morgue.”

  “Good deal.” I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of the city waking up. The window was open, emitting a nice breeze and the smell of coffee from somewhere on the street down below.

  I dreamed of the murder. Of meeting the Devil of Darkvale. Of the raccoon who I’d sworn was Cordelia. She had visited me, sleeping on my stomach as I slept on the couch.

  Eventually, my mobile woke me, buzzing like mad next to my head on the pillow. I jerked upright, panting, and looked at it.

  A text from Corrigan.

  Shit.

  Memories of every horrible thing I was trying to fight flashed in my mind. The murder. The manhunt.

  I opened the message.

  The entire police force is looking for you. Your face is on posters in shop windows. Turn yourself in.

  Shit, shit, shit. That was intense.

  It was ramping up to be a real serial killer investigation—and I was the main suspect.

  “Breakfast,” Mac sang out from the kitchen.

  I jerked, turning toward the kitchen door. She stepped out, carrying a tray with two big glasses of milk and a familiar blue package.

  “Oreos for breakfast?” I asked.

  “With milk!” She grinned widely. “That’s how it’s healthy.”

  “Of course.” Despite the warning from Corrigan, a smile spread across my face. “Can’t imagine a better breakfast.

  “Me, neither.”

  We ate the Oreos quickly, cutting through almost half the package.

  “So, ready to go sneak into the morgue?” Mac asked.

  “Yeah. Can we pay a visit to Eve first, though?” Now that magic was an option, I wanted to use it. I had a lot of skills, but breaking and entering wasn't one of them. Especially not when the building in question was guarded like the morgue. I was willing to rack up some debts with Eve to improve my chances of getting in.

  “Sure thing. She should be open.”

  Thankfully, it turned out she was. The shop looked the same as it had when we’d entered the first time—cluttered and full of magic, the potion bottles jammed onto the walls and faerie lights in the ceiling—but Eve looked different.

  She looked guilty.

  Hell, she almost grimaced when she looked at us.

  “What’s wrong?” Mac demanded at once.

  “The Devil got to me,” Eve said. Behind her, the raven twitched in irritation.

  “Damn it.” Mac looked between Eve and me. “What did he want to know?”

  “He forced you to do something?” I asked, my mind racing with horrible ideas.

  “He wanted answers.”

  “About what?” Mac asked.

  “About her.” Eve nodded at me. “Her name, what she does. Anything I knew.”

  “Is that how he found us at the party last night?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I didn’t know that, so he probably found that info somewhere else. But I did tell him your name and what you can do. I tried to fi
ght it, but I couldn’t.

  Mac shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Eve. No one can help it. That’s the point of his power.”

  I didn’t mention that I could help it. But I also didn’t blame Eve. I’d felt the strength of his magic last night after the potion pong game. It would be impossible to resist.

  “Well, I’m sorry,” Eve said. “Probably better if you don’t tell me anything.”

  “Can we ask for help, though?” I asked.

  “Definitely.” Eve’s shoulders seemed to sag with relief. “I would be delighted. I feel like I owe you.”

  “You don’t.” I shook my head. “From what I understand, the Devil’s ability to force people to do his bidding is part of life here.”

  In fact, it seemed that he was so powerful, he basically owned this city. No one could move without him knowing it. I shivered, wondering if this place was even more dangerous than London.

  “You’re telling me.” A cloud crossed Eve’s face. “But what can I help you with? And keep the details to a minimum. I don’t want the Devil getting your info out of me.”

  “Okay…” He knew what I was going to try to do, but it’d be best to play by her rules anyway. “Do you have anything that will force people to do what I want them to do?”

  “You want a power like the Devil’s, huh?”

  “Wouldn’t be bad.”

  “True enough, it wouldn’t.” She went to a shelf and got down a small vial. “This is a powder that will make someone perform a small task for you. Nothing too intense, of course. You couldn’t compel someone to kill, for instance.”

  My brows popped up. “Whoa, wasn’t thinking of that as an option, actually.”

  “Okay, good. Well, it should work pretty well at getting someone to do something small, then. But they’ll pass out immediately after.”

  “It won’t hurt them, right?”

  “No, it will exhaust them.”

  “That’s fine. What about another freezing potion?” Mac asked. “That would be handy.”

  “You can have two. What else?”

  Mac’s eyes widened. “Wow, you really feel guilty, huh?”

  “Yeah. Way guilty. He…he has his eye on her in a big way, and I don’t know why.”

  “It’s fine.” I wanted to reassure her. “I can handle it.”

  “Against the Devil himself?” Eve looked skeptical.

  “Against anything.”

  She grinned. “I like you. We should get a drink when this is all over, whatever this is.”

  “Yeah.” Two friends? How could I get so lucky?

  She gave us a couple more assorted potions that Mac seemed pleased with. We made sure that we were immune to the freezing potions, and then we split, heading back toward the gate.

  The town was bustling by now, the sun setting once again. The old iron streetlamps and shop windows glowed with golden light, and the streets were full of supernaturals going about their business. A few people flew overhead, their wings carrying them through the air.

  “I can’t believe this place,” I murmured.

  “Well, get used to it. These are your people now.”

  I spotted two inebriated men brawling, horns protruding from their heads and drunken eyes rolling as they tried unsuccessfully to land a punch.

  “Uhhh…” I said.

  “Not those old goats. They’re not your people.” She pointed to some laughing women who looked mostly normal as they sat at an outdoor cafe drinking wine. “They are. Or maybe the old dudes playing cribbage over there.” She laughed.

  “You know, I’m not bad at cribbage.”

  “Maybe you can give old Larry and Watson a run for their money one day.”

  “I’d like to try.”

  As we passed through the main city gate and walked down the darkened tunnel to the other side, I felt a prickle of attention that made my heart race.

  The Devil was watching. I could feel it in my soul, in the way the gaze felt like a caress over my skin.

  “Can the Devil see inside here?” I asked.

  “It’s safe to assume he can see almost anywhere,” Mac said. “Either through magic or through a secret hiding place. That man has eyes everywhere.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck uncomfortably. “Cool, cool, cool.”

  We reached the other side, and when we stepped out into the light, the ether pulled me in and spun me through space. A moment later, we appeared in the empty, darkened hallway of the Haunted Hound.

  Quinn, the handsome bartender, stood near the shelves of liquor, adding another bottle. He looked at us, and his brows rose. “Come to cover your shift, Mac?”

  “Ah, no. Can you?”

  His eyebrows lowered, but his glower did nothing to obscure his handsome face.

  “I’m helping Carrow,” Mac said.

  Quinn’s face cleared again, and he seemed to be considering. “I could help Carrow. Be delighted to.”

  “You don’t know what we’re doing. She’d be better off with me.”

  “I’m not so sure of that.”

  “We’re going to get our hair done.”

  He scowled. “Liar. But I’ll still cover for you.”

  “Thanks a million,” Mac said. “You’re a hero.”

  “Seriously,” I added. “Thank you. I could really use the help.”

  “Need a second person?” Quinn asked.

  “We’ve got it,” Mac said with a grin. “You’ll have to flirt with her later.”

  “I’ll count down the hours,” he replied, charming as hell.

  Unfortunately, it didn't do much for me. Sure, he was hot and nice, but he was no scary vampire with mind control. Which seemed to be the only guy I was interested in right now, which was insane, because I was also freaking scared of him.

  “Actually,” Mac said. “We could maybe use some bailout help later.”

  “Bailout help?” I asked.

  “Hopefully not. But there’s no point having friends if they can’t bail you out of trouble.”

  “What are you up to?” Quinn asked.

  “Breaking into the city morgue,” I said.

  “And if we get in trouble, we might call you,” Mac said. “We’ve already got the witches as an option, but they’re unreliable. You’re not.”

  “That’s true. But why are you giving me a heads-up? Normally, you wait until you’re up shit creek to ask for a paddle.”

  “Because we’re going to look different.” Mac dug into her pocket and held up two little potion bottles. “And we need you to know which two damsels to come rescue.”

  “You’ve never been a damsel.”

  “Damn right I haven’t.” She grinned.

  She handed me a tiny vial of potion. “This one is for you. Specially formulated by the witches.”

  “Thanks.” It was warm in my hand—unusually so.

  “Same time?”

  “Yep.” I uncorked the vial and raised it, waiting for Mac.

  Together, we swigged them back. Mine tasted disgustingly sweet and syrupy, and a shiver went through my whole body, followed quickly by a shaft of pain. I doubled over, the pain turning to agony.

  Were the witches trying to kill me?

  Mac groaned and nearly collapsed.

  Scratch that, they were trying to kill both of us.

  As suddenly as it had arrived, the pain departed. I gasped and stood. Mac did the same, and I gasped.

  Quinn started to chuckle, his gaze moving between the two of us.

  Mac looked different. Like, way different.

  And not in a good way.

  In fact, she reminded me of a toad—green skin and all. The only good part was that she was still standing on two legs and not four.

  “Wow, you’re hot!” Mac said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Totally hot. What do I look like?”

  “Uh…”

  “Come on,” Quinn said. “There’s a mirror behind the bar.”

  We followed him out.
The place was half full, but no one paid us any mind.

  Well, that wasn’t quite true. There were some looks, a few cringes, but they didn’t point and laugh, so I considered it a win. Apparently, frog girls were normal in the Haunted Hound.

  We reached the mirror and gazed at our reflections.

  Mac screeched with indignation. “Those bitches!”

  Holy crap, I did look hot. Like, hot in a men’s magazine kind of way. Wavy auburn hair and an impossibly perfect face, complete with impeccable makeup.

  “I can’t believe they did this,” Mac muttered, rubbing at her green skin.

  “This is one of their pranks, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” She glowered. “And I’m going to get them for it.”

  “Man, we’re going to draw some attention.”

  “No kidding.” She dragged a gnarled hand over her face. “This is almost worse. We don’t even look like real people.”

  Quinn looked between the two of us, seemingly delighted by the drama playing out in front of him.

  “I look kind of real,” I said.

  “No, you don’t, honey. No one looks like you in real life. You look like you’ve been photoshopped. You should see your waist. You’re basically a Barbie doll.”

  I looked down, surprised to see that she was right. I should be wearing a corset to get a waist like this. And did my feet look pointed? Like I should be perpetually forced into tiny plastic heels?

  I tugged up my hood, shoving the mass of red underneath.

  “You’ve got to give me five minutes,” Mac said. “I need a hood, too.”

  “Okay.”

  She hurried toward the hallway to go back to Guild City.

  “Can I get you something, Miss January?” Quinn asked.

  I shot him a look and gestured to my new Barbie body. “Oh, you like this, do you?”

  “Actually, I prefer the real you.” He leaned over the bar and shot me a charming grin. “A lot. So, when you’re back to normal, if you’d like to get dinner or something, I’d be delighted to be your Ken.”

  I didn’t want him, but I did like him. And warmth suffused me at his words. “Thanks. But I think…well, I’m going to have a lot on my plate.”

  “That’s okay.” He winked. “I’ll try again later.”

  Mac returned a moment later with a hoodie. She tore the tag off it and tugged the garment over her head. Suddenly, her face was cast in shadows, nearly impossible to see. I could get glimpses of her, and she still looked like hell, but the magic in the hoodie seemed to soften her features, making them hazy. Her green skin looked slightly sallow now, and she only sort of resembled a frog.