by Michele Hauf
Fire makes Verity strong. That is the difference.
Truly? Rook twisted his head to watch as Verity was raised high above the stage while she dangled from a steel trapeze. Flames tornadoed out from her fingers in a fiery column below.
“She frightens me, Oz,” he muttered.
That is a first. One should always face that which they fear.
“I can’t. I…do not like this. So much fire.”
The small flame ball she’d shown him the other day had been easy enough to watch. To be curious about. It hadn’t roared and whipped at her clothing or eaten away her skin and hair.
The audience clapped uproariously for Verity’s performance. The clatter chased away the vicious memories, yet left Rook panting for breath. He shouldn’t have come here. She had told him she performed with fire. Fool. He should have known what to expect.
Turning to leave, Rook passed by a man struggling against chains as he was led toward the stage Verity had exited. He sensed the chained one was human and the man leading him was vampire.
From the stage, a rousing announcement was made. “Are all the vamps sitting in the front row? Because it’s going to get messy!”
The crowd again cheered, and Rook swallowed down his bile as he could only imagine the macabre display that would follow. This was no place for a vampire hunter.
* * *
Verity shared her backstage dressing room with Lyric Santiago, a vampiress, along with two others who were currently onstage assisting Valentin. The vampire’s act was bloody, but it was popular with their paranormal audience. The human prop wasn’t killed, though he was brought close to death. Some of the troupes’ acts were very dark, and others mingled blatant eroticism with the macabre. Verity preferred to keep her act lighter.
Lyric—tall, blonde and gorgeous—was removing the heavy makeup they wore under the lights. The vampiress couldn’t see her reflection, so it was all done by skill and experience.
Verity didn’t wear a lot of makeup. The fire usually melted it, causing it to drip down her neck, mix with the flame retardant and make a sticky mess. She took a baby wipe to her arms and exposed skin to remove the majority of the sweet-smelling cream.
“Great performance,” Lyric said as Verity removed the decorative metal stomacher designed more to protect her from the flame than to suck in her gut or look pretty. “The crowd was hooting.”
Yes, and she’d been compelled to scan the crowd as she’d stood to take her final bow. She’d seen him, even standing in the darkness. It was as though her soul could see no one but him.
The vampiress was trying to work the zipper down her back.
Going in for the save, Verity unzipped her friend. Then she started to unbraid her hair, pulling it out and over her shoulders. “Tonight I saw someone in the audience I know.”
“A man?” Lyric asked gleefully.
“Yes.”
“A lover?” Lyric coaxed.
“Not yet.”
“Do tell. The last time you had some delicious gossip was when you were dating that creep Slater. On second thought, it wasn’t so delicious after he turned on you. What kind of macaron did you call him?”
“Pierre Hermé’s tea matcha and sesame noir. Ugh.”
Both women shuddered. Verity had described the flavor to Lyric as an evil surprise. She’d expected sweet, and upon the first bite she had gotten savory and just plain awful. Not what she wanted from a macaron. Or a vampire, for that matter.
“This new guy is not a vampire. Though you know I would never rule one out in the future.”
“Every breed has their assholes,” Lyric said. She pulled on a soft red jersey dress and looked about for her Louboutins. “Is the not yet because you’ve just met the guy or because you’re not sure about him?”
“Both, I think. I can’t wait to have sex with him. He is a fine specimen, Lyric. He’s a—”
“Sweetie!” A dark-haired vampire slipped inside the dressing room and pulled Lyric into a kiss.
Verity admired the couple who had been together nearing three decades. They still acted as if they were on their first date every time she saw them. Strapped across Vail’s chest hung a baby in a carrier, Lyric’s second child, a sweet little girl named Summer. Vail took that baby everywhere; he insisted on watching her when Lyric was working.
“Hey, Veritas,” Vaillant offered. He slipped a hand into hers, beringed fingers flashing as he brought her hand to his lips to kiss. “How are the hexes?”
He would never understand that she did not work hexes. Only dark witches did that.
The baby strapped across the vampire’s chest giggled and gave Verity bright eyes from beneath the pink knit skullcap. Vail slipped close to kiss Verity’s cheek, then paused and sniffed near her neck. “What’s that? You’ve been bitten?”
Lyric flashed her a look that screamed, You didn’t tell me. “I thought you were over vamps for a while? Was it this new guy?”
“No, he’s not a vamp.”
Verity rubbed her palm along her neck. She shouldn’t be surprised that another vampire could detect the bite, even though the wound was now but two small red marks that she had used a bit of pancake to conceal.
“It wasn’t my choice,” she offered.
“What?” Lyric grabbed her hands and peered into her eyes. “Some vamp bit you without your permission? Are you okay? Verity?”
“I’m fine. I…yes, fine.” Was she? Why did she suddenly feel shaky and not in her right place? It was all cool. The spell had worked, and life went on.
Right?
“The vampire sealed the wound, yes?” Vail asked over his wife’s shoulder. Summer cooed and kicked her pudgy legs.
Verity shrugged.
“Oh fuck.” Vail punched the wall. “Who was it? I’ll rip the bastard’s head off!”
“Vail, chill,” Lyric said. “And watch the language around Summer.” She hadn’t let go of Verity’s hand, which now trembled. “Sweetie, he didn’t seal the wound?”
“I was attacked. And a hunter scared him off, so no, I don’t believe the wound was sealed.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Vail said, “but thank the human’s God for the hunter.”
Lyric rubbed Verity’s hand between hers. “Did you perform a spell to counteract the vampire taint?”
“I did.” Verity sighed. She hadn’t wanted to get into this with her friends and didn’t want them upset. “It’s fine. My spells never fail.”
“You may be sure of your track record, but that shake in your voice tells me you’re scared, sweetie.”
“Me? No.”
They’d just caught her off guard. As the bite marks faded, she hadn’t given it much thought or felt the same worried urgency as the vampire couple did.
“Really?” Vail ducked his head to meet her eyes.
Okay, maybe not. Until now she hadn’t considered—okay, so she had considered her options, but only because it was the smart thing to do.
“Guys, you know me. I do have a backup plan. I have someone helping me to find the vampire. I’m sure he’ll get him before the full moon, so if the spell didn’t work, then he’ll stake the bastard and be done with it.”
“Who’s helping you?” Vail asked.
“The hunter who chased the vampire off.”
“You’re hanging with hunters now?” Vail paced behind them, his disgust over hearing she’d befriended a hunter more obvious than his concern that she’d been bitten. “Then why the hell didn’t he stake the asshole before he bit you, huh? You wouldn’t have this problem if the guy had been a little faster—”
“Vail, leave,” Lyric said firmly. “Verity doesn’t need you going all six-guns right now. And I’m sure Summer needs to get some sleep.”
Leave it to L
yric to know exactly how to handle her cocky husband.
But as Vail opened the dressing room door, he stepped aside to allow another man entrance.
“Rook.” Verity stood, a smile unstoppable. She hadn’t expected he’d come backstage, but then again, why not? “I thought you had…” She exchanged eye contact with her vampire cohorts. “…business.”
Vail crossed his arms over the baby and tilted his head, eyeing the new man. Did they know one another? Earlier, Rook had recognized Johnny, Vail’s son.
“Lyric and Vail, this is Rook. Rook, well, I assume you know them already.”
“He does?” Vail prompted. When Rook held out his hand to shake, Vail kept his arms firmly crossed. “Who are you? Wait. Are you the hunter who is supposed to be protecting our Verity?”
“Protecting?” Rook looked to Verity.
“I didn’t tell them you were protecting me,” she said. “Exactly. He’s looking for the vampire who bit me, and that’s enough talk of that. Really, I don’t want to get into this. You’re making it sound much more dire than it really is. Vail, could you leave? And, Rook, could you wait outside while I change?”
“Of course.” With a wrinkle of concern to his brow, he stepped aside to allow the vampire to exit first. “Vaillant. You’re friends with one of our knights, Kasper Rothstein, right?”
“Depends on how you define friends. Let’s talk, man.” Vail strolled out.
Rook gave Verity a wondering glance and then a wink before he closed the door behind him.
“Mercy, he is handsome.” Lyric fanned herself with a hand before her face. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t mean to discount what’s happened to you—but, damn.”
“He is incredible.”
“He was surprised about the mention of protecting you. Does he know you need him to help you?”
“Not exactly. Like I said, I know the spell worked. When has my magic ever failed me?”
Lyric shrugged.
“Rook is my backup plan. I’m helping him to track the vampire because he thinks it will lead him to tribe Zmaj, who are on the Order’s hit list. Oh!” Verity put a hand to her mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that.”
“Don’t worry. I have no love for half the tribes in Paris. What the hunters do is their own business. So long as they stay away from my family.” She tilted Verity’s head against her shoulder. “I thought your mother had ensured you were all about avoiding hunters.”
“She did, and I am. But you know I always like to give a man a chance.”
“Until you dump him like a rotting corpse after two dates.”
“Usually they get three.”
“Maybe you should have Vail go after the vamp for you. The hunter is handsome, but good looks do not equal trust.”
“I don’t have to trust him. I just need him to trust me while we work together to find his soul.”
“His—what?”
Verity clasped her fingers at her throat, missing the solace of the warm wooden heart. “Remember the soul in the heart I told you about?”
“Right, you dug it out of a tree back when the women wore those frumpy long skirts and billowy shirtsleeves. It belongs to the hunter?”
Verity nodded. “We think so. But it was stolen by the vampire who bit me. Lyric, I know Rook and I have been brought together by forces greater than we can imagine. And the soul has been close to my heart all these years. I feel as if I know it. Which is how I felt when I first met Rook. As if we have known one another or, at the least, belong together.”
“Wow. This coming from the three-date maximum chick?”
Verity could only shrug. How to answer that one?
“He is cute,” Lyric offered, “but be careful. Take your time, sweetie.”
“I plan to. But you know, my grandmother Freesia once told me that I shouldn’t stop trusting all men. That I should recognize when the right man to trust comes along. Lyric, I think he’s come into my life.”
The vampiress hugged her and rubbed her back. “I certainly hope so. But to be safe, you keep my phone number with you at all times. If the hunter turns on you, I’ll sic Vail on him.”
* * *
Vail strolled in front of Rook as they waited on the back loading dock for the women. The baby strapped to the vampire’s chest slept peacefully, head bowed and hands tucked beneath her pudgy chin. Her father was in classic vampire black from coal-dark hair to the black suede boots studded with silver. Silver rings glinted on his fingers as he swung his arms casually.
“So,” Vail said, “you and Verity have a thing going on?”
“A thing?”
“Yeah. A thing. You getting all up in her business?”
The vamp had an uncouth manner about him, but Rook knew from Kaz’s reports he was not to be feared and was a trusted informant to the Order. Still, that didn’t mean he had to bump fists or sing “Kumbaya” with the longtooth.
“We’ve known each other a few days. I like her. She likes me. That’s all you’re going to get.”
“Fair enough.” Vail cradled the infant possessively, likely unaware how unthreatening a vampire with a pink-clothed toddler strapped to his chest appeared. “You going after the vamp who bit her?”
“That is my intention. But it’s not because Verity is worried about transforming. She performed a spell to counteract the bite. She’s fine. I just don’t like it when vamps pick on pretty witches.”
Vail nodded, looking down his nose at him. Trying to decide whether or not to like him. Rook preferred he did not. He had enough longtooth friends. One, to be exact. He needn’t any more.
“Verity is my wife’s friend. If anyone hurts her…”
“I get it,” Rook said. “We won’t be coming to arms over the witch. I promise you that.”
“Good. So who is this vamp you’re looking for?”
“I don’t have a name, only the tribe. Zmaj.”
“Zmaj. Johnny was mixed up with that tribe a while back. They were an okay bunch.”
“They’ve changed. Frederick Slater is now their leader.”
Vail sneered, revealing fangs. “That bastard dated Verity a while ago.”
Rook tilted his head. She’d dated a vampire? That was new to him. But he wouldn’t show Vail his surprise.
“She’s not anymore,” Rook stated as a means to verify his guess.
“’Course not. The guy is an asshole. Tried to enslave her. Uh, she told you that, right?”
Rook nodded. This investigation just got a whole lot more personal.
Chapter 6
Verity found Rook waiting outside the backstage door. A smile glinted in his eyes when he saw her. From her stash of clothing she kept in her dressing room, she had slipped into a soft heather dress that ruffled above her knees and was cinched with a deeper purple velvet bow at the waist. Add to that the black suede thigh boots and a few moonstone bangles on her wrist, and she felt presentable. But it was chilly out this late, and she wished she’d brought along a sweater.
After Vail and Lyric strolled off with Summer, she asked, “Did you like the show?”
Rook pulled her into his arms and kissed her in the shadows against the limestone wall. The chills she’d been feeling? Gone like that as his hands burnished across her skin, seeping his slight coolness against her until they alchemized warmth between the two of them.
She melted against his solid form as she stood on tiptoes to capture his intensity. The man never simply kissed her. He devoured her. He also left an indelible mark on her that she knew she might never erase. And for that she must be cautious.
Lyric had been right. Three times was her limit. But they hadn’t fallen into bed yet, so she would extend this tête-à-tête as long as possible. And perhaps the definition of date should be altered to
o.
“Your performance was amazing,” he said as he pulled back and brushed a thick hank of her hair over her shoulder. But his smile fled too quickly. “Witches and fire.” He smirked, and she sensed he wasn’t completely behind her act and was probably just saying nice things.
“You didn’t like it.”
“I did. It just…surprised me.” His brow furrowed, and the scar tugged up the end of the brow. A sinister arch. “Lots of surprises tonight. You’re quite the gymnast.”
He was changing the topic, but she would grant him that because she sensed something was off with him. “Lyric taught me the gymnastics. Her act involves acrobatic silks. She literally flies on a couple strips of bright fabric. It’s amazing.”
“The two of you must be the beauty in a show that offers all sorts of dark and wicked things.”
“You saw the act that followed mine?”
“I didn’t hang around to watch, but I’m guessing I wouldn’t like to hear what that was about.”
“The human is not killed.”
“Would it be a mercy if he was?”
Verity sighed. She didn’t want to discuss the morality of an act that wasn’t hers. Not taking sides was the wisest way to remain alive. Unless, of course, she’d been seduced by macarons.
“Sunday night shows are paranormals only,” she said. “I’m surprised you were allowed admission.”
“When asked at the ticket counter, I said I was demon. Though I don’t like to make that claim. Ever.”
“How does Oz feel about that?”
“He is in agreement. I am not him, and he is not me. Yet we are one another. If you can understand that. Let’s walk.”
He wrapped an arm about her shoulder and they walked, as if lovers. It thrilled Verity that he was so easy with her. And it wasn’t in a covetous, ownership way as some men were wont to behave. Rook subtly claimed her, but he also allowed her the distance and independence she required. He wouldn’t force her to do a thing, yet any opportunity to stand close to him she would take.
“Was Vail’s baby wearing a bedazzled skull on its cap?” he asked as they strolled a cobbled street away from the river.
