Spellbound (Crossbreed Series Book 8)

by Dannika Dark

  She gasped when someone crawled into bed with her. “Claude, you gave me a start!”

  Gem had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard the door open. Once her heart slowed down, she settled back on her right side while Claude curled on top of her feet to offer his warmth. The smell of clean soap wafted off his bare chest as he lay there like an Adonis. Sometimes he was too handsome for his own good and used it like a charm. Chitahs were confident, persuasive creatures, and that perfect trifecta made it easy for Claude to get what he wanted. It was what made him perfectly suited for spy work at his day job among both male and female clients.

  “What upsets you, female?”

  “It’s been a long week. I really missed you guys.”

  He turned his head and rested his chin against his broad shoulder. “I thought you were lost to us. I wanted to be the one who brought you back, but Viktor sent Niko. I’m your partner. I’m supposed to protect you, and—”

  “I know,” she said quickly, noticing a ripple of spots appearing on his torso. Claude was visibly upset, and she could only imagine how he had taken the news. “This is how it had to be. There’s nothing for you to fret about. It’s over. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, but we’ll talk about it later when you’re ready.”

  Claude was so different from anyone Gem had ever met. Some of the intimate acts he performed for her were ones that Chitahs normally did with family: purring, curling up in her bed, and even bringing her meals. Since the day that Viktor had assigned them as partners, Claude had always treated her as if she was special.

  When a rumbling purr sounded, she sank back into her pillow. It calmed her like nothing else, and she marveled over his innate talents. “Did Viktor talk to you?” she asked.

  His purr died down, and Claude propped his head in his hand. “He said Niko’s fallen asleep and won’t wake up. He ordered us to stay away until otherwise told. Does Niko’s condition have anything to do with the men who were chasing him?”

  She frowned. “Why would you ask that?”

  “The man we captured fell asleep too.”

  She sprang to a sitting position. “What other man? Kallisto?”

  “I don’t know his name, but Raven recognized him. He followed us into the woods.”

  Gem couldn’t believe her ears. All this time she thought Kallisto had set his sights on breaking into the mansion and going after Hunter. Cyrus’s threats were oblique, so she’d assumed he’d go after someone she’d least expect. Crush had crossed her mind, as did Kira. She had forgotten about Kallisto in the midst of all this madness. “Tell me what happened.”

  Claude’s fangs punched out, marring his angelic face with a ferocious appearance. “He tried to murder the children.”

  She clutched the pendant around her neck. “He went after the children?”

  That was ten times worse than going after Keystone. Cyrus must have decided that Keystone members were expendable, but children weren’t.

  That conniving little monster.

  “They’re okay,” Claude assured her. “But we almost lost one. Our duty was to transport them to a secret location. One female fled with her boyfriend, but we know where to find her, and Viktor is going to drop in on the family and have a little chat.”

  “What did Kallisto do? You said you almost lost one.”

  “Toward the end of the journey, lions were hunting us. And then this Mage comes out of nowhere and shoots a poison dart into one of the boys. If the deviant hadn’t fallen unconscious on his own, I would have killed him myself. Slowly.”

  “What did you do with him?”

  “Viktor turned him over to the higher authority. He’ll be spending the rest of his life in Breed jail. I think there were disagreements about executing an unconscious man, but hopefully someone has the good sense to do what’s right. No one should ever harm a child and live.”

  Gem secretly wanted the man to rot behind bars. Death was too swift, and an eternity in a cell would serve him right.

  Claude frowned. “Is Niko afflicted in the same way? What happened?”

  “I can’t say.”

  His gaze lowered for a moment. “Understood.”

  Claude was admirably trusting. He knew they were each bound by duty, so he never pressured her to divulge private information. Even on the rare nights when she had nightmares, Claude never prodded her to talk about them. He didn’t need to. He could scent her fear, her pain, and even her sorrow. Gem needed his unwavering support, so she kept much about her past private.

  After all, if he found out her dark secrets, he might think differently about her. His affection might come with conditions, and Gem couldn’t afford to lose that. Claude was the closest thing she had to a friend, but much of their relationship was based on their partnership.

  Claude quietly watched her, lifting her emotional scent with a twitch of his nose. Then he stroked her calf as if she were a wounded animal. She didn’t dare tell him about the drowning, not now. He’d flip his switch and squat over her all night like some kind of guard dog. As adorable as that could be, she wasn’t in the mood for coddling.

  “Don’t worry about me, Claude. I’m just peachy.”

  “All the same, I think I’ll sleep in here tonight.”

  “You’re barely dressed.”

  He dropped his head onto his bicep and smiled.

  “Is everyone else okay?”

  His smile withered. “All but Blue.”

  Gem’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean? She’s dead?”

  “No, no. But she was badly injured.”

  “Kallisto did that?”

  “The lions. Niko was our last resort to heal her, but it seems that the fates have played a cruel joke. I’m not sure if it would have made any difference. She shifted on our journey back, but too much time had elapsed.”

  Gem clutched the sheet, looking at him for answers. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Claude sat up, his curls of blond hair mussed. After heaving a sigh, he lowered his gaze. “She’s badly scarred. A lion mauled her, and she couldn’t shift enough times. It’s… it’s bad. But you know Blue. She’s brushing it off and pretending nothing happened. All of this is my fault.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  He glowered. “I put on the mask you said was cursed. The one at the pawnshop.”

  Gem had to stop and think. When she recalled their brief conversation at Pawn of the Dead, her shoulders sagged. She reached for his hand. “Curses don’t exist, you big goof. I wanted to get you back for teasing me, but I’m not very good at pranks. Sometimes I just don’t know when I’ve crossed the line. None of this was your fault. That was just an old mask.”

  Claude looked relieved. “If you want to talk about anything, I’m here. If you can’t, I’ll still warm your feet,” he said with a low chuckle.

  Gem giggled. Claude was so silly sometimes, and she needed that laugh after spending her day buried in guilt. It made her wonder what having a brother might be like, but she struggled with making deep emotional connections to others. It came with the risk of rejection or loss, and Gem had no coping skills in that arena.

  “Are you up for an adventure tomorrow?” she asked.

  Claude groaned and tipped over beside her like a falling tree. “I’ve had enough adventure for a lifetime.”

  “Too bad. Viktor wants us to run an errand.” Gem patted his back and turned on her side to face the other way. “Good night, Claude.”

  “Good night, female.”

  She switched off the lights. “If you snore, I’m kicking you out.”

  Chapter 3

  “Faster!” Gem cried, thrilled by the rush of Claude’s red Porsche hugging another sharp turn. She loved speed, and Claude indulged her every whim.

  He revved the engine, but a pedestrian walking a Great Dane forced him to slow down. She gripped the seat belt and sighed. Gem wasn’t good at dealing with stress, and as strange as it sounded, diversions like this helped her
think more clearly.

  Claude drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Where did you say this Relic lives?”

  She held up the paper and stared at the address Viktor had scribbled on it. “Willowbrook Lane. Keep going. I think we’re almost there.” She pointed out the window. “Oh, look! Umbrellas.”

  “You have the attention span of a goldfish.”

  Gem couldn’t help it. She loved it when the men stood on corners, twirling their colorful umbrellas. It was commonplace in the spring and fall when Cognito got the most rain. The streets still had large puddles from the recent storms, but it hadn’t rained all morning.

  Claude ducked his head and looked through her window. “Building seven?”

  Gem sucked on the straw protruding from her strawberry shake. A drop of condensation from the cup plopped onto her bare leg. Shorts might have been overly optimistic for the cool weather, but teamed with a grey wool duster and the right boots, they felt great.

  “Hmm. I thought we were going to an apartment building,” Claude remarked. “Viktor’s taking us to the fancy side of town.”

  Gem admired the old townhomes. This was a section of the historic district that not many could afford to buy their way into. Also, the homes were difficult to come by since nobody ever moved, and some had been handed down for generations. Many higher authority members preferred townhomes to mansions because they required little upkeep and were in the heart of the city.

  Claude slowed to a stop in front of a townhome with a paint job that looked like orange sherbet with vanilla trim. “You can get out here. I’m just gonna circle round until I find a parking spot.”

  “Good luck with that.” Gem sprang out of the car and watched him speed away.

  Cognito was the worst when it came to parking. Claude was particular about where he left his Porsche, especially when someone could easily sideswipe it on a narrow street. As she ascended the steps, her attention lingered on the potted plants on the patio. Purple flowers danced merrily in the breeze, still wet from last night’s rain and the humidity. Some of the petals had blown off in the storm and stuck to the concrete like bruises.

  Gem rang the bell and heard a delightful melody that sounded nothing like a standard doorbell. She squinted at the frosted glass, curious about the sign on the door that said In Session.

  “Hello?” She knocked a few times, then peered through the window and searched inside for moving shadows.

  After a moment of hesitation, she tried the knob. It was unlocked, so she opened the door. It seemed rude to waltz into someone’s house, but this was important, and Viktor had called ahead.

  “Hello? It’s Gem Laroux.”

  She nearly dropped her milkshake when she caught her reflection in an oval mirror by the door. After blowing out a breath, Gem looked around. The main room had no television or stereo, just sage-green furniture surrounding a large oval coffee table. When she walked to the back and peered around the corner into a kitchen, she noticed a theme with oval-shaped rugs.

  “Is anybody home?” she called out.

  Gem hissed when a sharp current of energy snapped at her skin like a rubber band. She steered her gaze up to the ceiling and heard a commotion. Curious, she jogged up the stairs to check it out.

  The second floor was a spacious single room with another set of stairs leading up to the third story. Never in her life had she seen an area rug so massive. All she could ponder was how on earth they’d gotten it up the stairs. It covered the entire wood floor, the gold designs on green fabric matching the color scheme downstairs. Light from tall windows on the front and back walls showered the room, and aside from a few beanbag chairs, the only other furniture was a circle of chairs in the center of the room.

  Almost every single person occupying those chairs turned to look at her. Some looked startled, and others delivered scathing stares. The only one who seemed oblivious to her presence was a man with jagged streaks of orange light streaming from his palms. He whipped them around like spaghetti noodles, causing one lady to duck.

  A large woman in a black flowy dress seemed to be mediating the group. She stood up and addressed Gem. “Is there something I can help you with? This is a private session.”

  Oops. “Sorry to intrude.” Gem fidgeted with her long duster to cover her legs. “I’m Gem Laroux. We had a meeting scheduled?”

  The Relic swung her gaze up to a dolphin clock on the wall. “You weren’t supposed to be here for another hour.”

  “I like to be fashionably early.”

  The Relic gave the group an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, everyone. We have to cut our session short today.”

  The thin man with the orange light frowned. “But I was making progress.”

  A round gentleman with a black mustache stood up and chortled. “Progress in burning this house down.”

  “You’re just jealous because you haven’t been able to get your light up in months.”

  Mr. Mustache narrowed his eyes at the man.

  The woman clapped her hands as if she were a teacher getting the attention of her rowdy children. “Let’s continue this next week. I’ll stretch out the session to three hours. How’s that?”

  A light flurry of murmurs overlapped as everyone collected their purses and jackets. Gem guiltily sidled over to the windows and tried to look invisible as the people filed into the stairwell. She slurped on her milkshake and studied each person, wondering what was wrong with them.

  Before leaving, the scrawny guy swung his arm up to the ceiling and released a snap of orange light.

  “Andy, that’s enough,” the woman scolded. “You can practice at home, but do it outside like we discussed. You did really well today. You’re making progress.”

  He beamed as he disappeared around the corner.

  The Relic’s black dress swished as she made her way over and offered Gem a welcoming smile. “I’m Marilyn Rothchild, but you can call me Mary.” She smelled like gardenias. Her green eye shadow didn’t match her pumpkin-colored lipstick, but Gem admired her individuality.

  “Gem Laroux.”

  Mary went back to the group of chairs and started folding them and lining them up against the wall.

  Gem set her milkshake on the floor and helped. “I’m sorry I barged in. I didn’t know you were a teacher.”

  Mary stacked another chair beneath a large abstract painting. “I’m more of a specialist.”

  “Oh? What do you do exactly?”

  Relics often took on clients and stayed within families for generations. They worked as therapists, healers, scholars, and sometimes teachers.

  “Come have a seat.” Mary had left two chairs open, and she sat down in one. “I specialize in energy disorders. Not every Mage is blessed with functional light, as you just saw. Some will never reach their full potential. Their disabilities require a certain level of focus that their Creators just can’t provide them. That’s where I come in.”

  Gem collected her drink and took the seat across from Mary. “Like that man earlier with the orange light?”

  Mary played with the rings on her fingers. “Yes. Andy’s light burns hot and erratic. When he first came to me, all he could make were tiny little sparks from his fingertips. He’ll never be a fully functioning Mage, but I think he’ll be able to harness his energy with practice. It’ll always be that color, but that’s just a superficial defect. Every Mage needs to learn how to protect himself.”

  “So you’re a light specialist.”

  Mary tilted her head. “Exactly. Viktor made me aware that you have a unique situation that I might be able to help with. Would you like to tell me about what ails you?”

  “Oh, it’s… it’s not me.” Gem stumbled over her words as she searched for an explanation that wouldn’t give away important details. “The other night, a friend of ours fell unconscious. He hasn’t woken up.”

  Mary moved a bangle on her arm. “Does this have to do with the light show?”

  “The what?”

 
Mary arched an eyebrow and gave her a skeptical look. “The entire world is buzzing about it. Where have you been?”

  Gem crossed her legs. “I spend a lot of time in my library. We don’t live in the city, so it’s not like I’m in contact with people all the time. Then this thing happened to my friend, and I’ve been busy taking care of him.”

  Mary seemed to have a way of reading between the lines. Gem knew it had to do with her line of work and all the people she dealt with in her therapy sessions. She could probably tell Gem was being evasive, but instead of calling her out on it, she let Gem do all the talking.

  “He won’t wake up. I think something happened to his energy. I tried giving him healing light, but nothing worked.” After taking a small sip, Gem set her milkshake on the floor. “Viktor said you might be able to help.”

  “What an interesting quandary.” Mary crossed her ankles, drawing Gem’s attention down to her strappy black heels. Tiny white stones in the fabric sparkled like diamonds. “Well, from what I know, every Mage had what I might speculate was a collective power surge. Relics were networking and trying to share information about what our clients had experienced.” Her eyebrows drew together, her expression serious. “A friend of mine from Turkey said he had a client with a similar condition to your friend’s. According to the victim’s companion, his light continued to glow after the surge had ended. He then collapsed in the middle of the street on his way to work. The last I heard, he was still in that condition. Several of the most experienced Relics in the field have shared information, but no one has ever seen anything like this before.”

  Gem gathered her fear and locked it away. She’d never considered all the other men Artemon had enslaved. Niko had never detailed how many there were, only that his Creator was building himself an army. Many had probably died over the years, but the realization that there were innocent men and women out there who were also caught in this spell horrified her. This wasn’t just about Niko anymore.