by Dara Tulen
Once he was coherent, I gave him the rundown on what we were going to do. “There's a warlock here, Malane Lundos, who's helped my family in the past. He's a good guy, you know, for a warlock,” I grinned. “If anyone knows who did this, it's him.”
As we entered the French Quarter, I began to tense. What most people didn't know was that New Orleans had been controlled by a very powerful coven of vampires since before it had been New Orleans. Hunters had tried to wipe them out but not had ever succeeded. Finally, in the forties or fifties, an uneasy truce had been made and hunters stayed out. The coven policed the creatures within their borders and only took blood from the willing, or so the agreement went. Hunters used informants, some human and some not, to make sure the truce was being kept. Malane was one such informant.
I parked the car, then leaned over the back of the seat to retrieve as many weapons as I could discreetly carry.
“Expecting trouble?” Judah asked.
“Stay close by me,” I didn't directly answer his question. “A lot of things here don't like me.”
Judah didn't argue, for which I was grateful. When I stepped out of the car, I had to look around to get my bearings. I hadn't been here since I was fourteen and never on my own. A pang of sadness went through me as I thought of how safe I'd felt with my parents and Baethan watching me and Liam.
The memory came to me slowly, but it came, helped greatly by the recent addition of a sign that read 'Warlock Extraordinaire Malane Lundos.' The Revealing sure even changed New Orleans.
I pointed at the sign. “It's down that alley way.”
Judah followed me as I hurried along the sidewalk. I got my usual share of looks, but most of these had nothing to do with my appearance. I had a bad feeling that all of the unwanted press I'd received was going to get me into trouble when I was trying to fly below the radar. Judah and I were halfway down the alley before it happened.
A pair of djinn appeared from the shadows to block the path. No djinn – the 'd' is silent – looked like those cartoons that come out of a lamp, or like any old TV show with gauzy clothes. Their features and bodies were human, but that's where the similarities ended. They all had either jet-black hair or none at all. Their eyes were a gleaming silver and their skin a strange grayish-blue that made them look like walking corpses. They were actually responsible for most zombie sightings. They'd even used it to their advantage, getting hunters to go after necromancers for crimes the djinn had committed.
“You are hunter,” the taller of the two spoke in a gravelly voice, his accent thick. He was fairly new to the country, probably having left the Middle East within the last century.
“I'm here to see Malane,” I put my hand behind my back so that my Rutger was accessible. It wouldn't kill them, but it'd slow them down. “I just need some information. I'm not looking for a fight.”
The smaller one rattled something off in their native tongue which was a variation of Hindi. I didn't know enough of it to catch more than the word sikari which was the word for 'hunter.'
“My friend say you famous hunter. We want to know if you taste better than other human.”
They both stepped forward and my fingers twitched, ready to draw. Before either side could initiate an attack, a somewhat familiar voice interrupted.
“Pollus, Kravox, you two wouldn't be planning on trying to make Siobhan Faust into a meal now, would you?” A thin, young-looking man came forward. Malane was nearly five hundred years-old but looked no older than Judah. He was pale with equally light violet eyes and amber-colored hair. He was handsome enough, I supposed, with that wildness that set warlocks apart from regular people. “That would be a mistake since I hear that she's as good as her parents had been. I don't really want to explain to the Coven why a hunter disemboweled two djinn on my doorstep, so run along before something bad happens to you.”
The djinn gave Malane a vicious look, but they returned to the shadows. Malane made a sweeping motion with his arm, pointing to a door that hadn't been there a minute ago. Glamours suck. Judah and I followed Malane inside.
“You'll have to excuse those two,” Malane said as he escorted us into his sitting room. “They think because they're a measly two hundred years-old, they can do as they please.”
“I appreciate the intervention,” I took a seat on an ostentatious couch. Malane's taste was just as opulent as I remembered. “I really don't have the time to go through all of the hassle of explaining why I'd killed them.”
Malane chuckled as he settled himself in a plush armchair. Judah sat next to me, tension coming off of him in waves. I barely refrained from taking his hand to reassure him. I wasn't sure if I trusted Malane enough to keep that secret.
“Malane, this is Judah Mills.”
“He's a Were,” Malane's eyes narrowed as he studied Judah. He tilted his head. “But I can't tell what kind. Curious.”
“He's the cursed kind,” I hoped my tone made it clear that there'd be no further questioning on that subject. I really didn't think the Coven knowing about a were-dragon in their city was a good idea. The odds were evenly split as to whether they'd kill him or kidnap him. “A witch cursed him and I told him that I'd help find her.”
“So you can 'persuade' her to cure him,” Malane finished the thought. “What did he do?”
“Got too close to a story she didn't want published.” As an afterthought, I added, “it could be a warlock, but my gut says witch.”
Malane nodded in agreement. “Your gut is right. This is a woman's work.” He held out his hand to Judah. “Your hand, please.”
After glancing at me for confirmation that this was what he was supposed to do, Judah placed his hand in Malone's. The warlock ran his ringers over Judah's palm and then closed his eyes. He continued to trace patterns over Judah's skin, his lips moving soundlessly. After a few minutes, Malane opened his eyes and released Judah's hand, a strange expression of distaste on his youthful face.
“Roswyn,” he spat out the name. “Before the taking of surnames among our people, she was known as Roswyn the Gray-winged because she'd discovered how to turn herself into a gray goose but failed to learn the counter-curse. She remained a goose for nearly a century before another of our kind changed her back. Now she goes by the name of Rose Gray.” Malane gave Judah a shrewd look. “Roswyn has been excommunicated from our order for performing experiments on humans. There are rumors that she has bribed officials in the government with magic in exchange for them looking the other way when she takes subjects.”
“That's the link to the Senator,” Judah glanced at me and I nodded in agreement.
“She is very old and very powerful,” Malane cautioned. “But she is also arrogant and impulsive. Play on her weaknesses and you can outsmart her.”
“Where can we find her?” I asked. Judah only had one more night before he'd shift and I wasn't sure I could find a safe place on such short notice for him to do so. And, I forced myself to admit it, I didn't want him to go through that pain again.
“If Mr. Mills allows it, I could try to use the trace of her magick in him to find her.”
Judah nodded. He, too, wanted to find this witch before he had to change again. “What do you need me to do?”
“Just sit there and look pretty,” Malane grinned as he stood. He walked around behind Judah and placed his hands on the young man's shoulders. The warlock closed his eyes and started to do his thing.
The magick was stronger this time and I shivered. I hated the feel of it, even when it wasn't directed at me. Judging by the expression on Judah's face, he didn't like it either.
“There you are,” Malane took a step back, looking pleased with himself. “You will find Roswyn in Baton Rouge. She frequents a club called Tranquility. Very rarely does she miss a night. If you leave now, you will arrive around the same time as she will.” He looked at my clothes and then at Judah's. I'd changed out of my sewer clothes, but neither of us were very presentable after our long car ride. “You'll never get in wearing tha
t.”
Shit. I just knew I was going to hate what he was going to do next.
Malane snapped his fingers and I felt my clothes change. One look at Judah told me that Malane had changed his outfit as well. Instead of the cheap clothes I'd bought yesterday, Judah now wore a pair of fitted charcoal gray jeans that showed off the parts of him that made my mouth water. His short-sleeved green shirt made his eyes nearly glow. They widened when his gaze turned my way and I looked down at what Malane had done to me.
“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” I was going to kill him. My legs were encased in shiny black leather pants, my feet in a pair of matching leather boots. My shirt had become – you guessed it – a leather corset that made my breasts look even bigger. “No,” I shook my head. “I look like something out of an S&M magazine.”
“Fitting since Tranquility is an S&M club,” Malane grinned at me.
When I took a step towards him, I made another discovery. “Where are my fucking panties?”
Malane laughed, then held up a hand when I scowled. “Fine.” Another snap of his fingers and the pants switched to a short skirt that barely covered my ass, black fishnet stockings and the boots grew to just below my knees. A quick glance showed a six-inch blade in a boot holster.
“Consider it a peace offering.”
“It'll do,” I muttered. I was just happy I was wearing underwear again. I turned to Judah who was still gaping at me. A pleasurable heat coiled in my stomach but I knew this wasn't the time or the place. “Let's go.”
“Hunter Faust,” Malane's voice changed to something more serious. “A word in private, if you will.”
I nodded at Judah. “I'll meet you just outside. Don't wander off.” When I was sure he was outside Malane's silencing spell, I turned back to the warlock. “What?” I tried crossing my arms, but that didn't really work with the poor excuse for a top he'd put me in. I was worried Malane was going to push to know what kind of Were Judah was and I wanted to appear as unfriendly as possible.
Malane gave me a grin that said he knew exactly what I was thinking. “I do not know what species your Were is.”
There was a formality to his words. He now sounded like I imagined he would have years ago when he'd been as young as he looked. He was continuing before I'd registered that he'd referred to Judah as 'my' Were. I didn't have time to consider how I felt about that.
“But I do know a few things about Weres that are, shall we say, among the less well-known aspects of their kind. One of which is the way they select their mates. Or, I should say, how their mates are selected. It's quite fascinating, really. No matter the species, be it wolf or leopard, at some point in time, they develop feelings for something who triggers a deeper connection than they've previously experienced. The Were in them claims that person as their mate.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I shifted uncomfortably, positive I didn't want to hear his answer.
“That boy,” Malane pointed towards the door, “that Were, has claimed you.”
I was protesting before he'd finished speaking. “No. We just met.”
“But you've,” he made a gesture, “fucked, correct?”
“Twice,” I answered before I thought better of it. “But it was just sex.”
“You must understand that this is not voluntary, but neither is it without reason. There must be an initial attraction as well as an emotional connection.”
“It doesn't matter,” I shook my head. “Once I find Roswyn, I'll get her to lift the curse. Judah doesn't have Were ancestry so once the curse is lifted, he'll just be human. No Were weirdness.”
“Maybe.”
I really didn't like the way he said that. “What do you mean, 'maybe'?”
“The thing about Were curses is that, even after it's lifted, there's always a chance of residual effects,” Malane chose his words carefully. “If it can be cured, there's a chance that even after he stops shifting, he could retain some of the characteristics of a Were. Higher temperature, strength...stamina.” He gave me a roguish grin. “It's possible that the claiming will still be a part of who he is.”
“If that's the case, I'll deal with it.” I turned to go.
“Weres may occasionally share, Hunter Faust,” Malane called after me. “But they mate for life.”
Great. That's just what I needed. A love-sick former dragon journalist following me all over the country, getting in my way while I worked, keeping me from living like I wanted. A little voice in the back of my head asked if I was truly upset about the possibility of losing my ability to fuck whoever I wanted or if I was scared that I could end up losing someone else I cared about. I told the voice to shut up and stepped out into the Louisiana heat. I didn't have time for this.
If Judah thought my silence on the walk back to the car was odd, he didn't say anything. It wasn't until he started the car and turned to me that the silence was broken.
“Baton Rouge?”
I nodded. “It should be a about an hour and a half. I'm going to take a nap, if you don't mind.”
Judah shook his head as he pulled up directions on his GPS. “I'll wake you when we get to the city limits.”
“Thanks,” I tucked my jacket between my head and the door and closed my eyes. I wasn't going to sleep, but I needed the alone time, even if it was just mentally alone. Malane's declaration replayed over and over in my head, interspersed with flashes of the last two days.
His lips moving with mine.
His eyes lighting up when he smiled.
The taste of him on my tongue.
His body trembling beneath me as he fought the change.
The burn and stretch as he'd entered me for the first time.
The sound of my name on his lips.
His confession that he'd shifted to protect me.
His hunger matching my own.
I was so fucked.
Chapter Nine
Judah woke me as we neared Baton Rouge. I had no idea when I'd actually fallen asleep, but the fact that I had bothered me more than it should have. I had been alone, in an enclosed space, with not just a Were but a young Were who just so happened to shift into a dragon. Every hunter instinct in me should have been screaming at me to stay awake, not letting my guard down enough to rest. I needed to get Judah his cure and get away from him. I tried to tell myself that the idea didn't cause me pain.
“Have you ever been to, ah, one of these types of clubs before?” Judah asked as we pulled into the Tranquility parking lot.
I turned in my seat and raised an eyebrow.
He flushed. “It's just with the belt and...”
I rolled my eyes and climbed out of the car. “At least you won't have any problems convincing people that you're my Sub.”
“Your what?” Judah locked the car doors.
“I don't know how many Paranormal Beings are in there. If I go in and start announcing that I'm a hunter, I'm as likely to get attacked as to get answers. So, to get inside, we're going to have to pretend that we belong, and since I'm the one taking the lead, I have to be the Dom.” I grinned at him, trying not to let it show on my face just how much I liked the idea of him being my Submissive. I wasn't into the whole whips and clamps thing, but I never said no to a little bondage, so long as I was the one doing the binding.
“Oh,” Judah swallowed hard.
Was it my imagination or did the idea appeal to him as well? I shook my head to clear it. This was business. Everything with Judah was business and pleasure, not emotion.
Right?
“Just stay behind me.” My tone was sharp, but I didn't apologize for it. I kept my eyes straight ahead and started for the door. I sensed more than heard Judah behind me. As I approached the very large man in front of the door, he gave me an appreciative once over, glanced over my shoulder at Judah and nodded.
“Play safe,” he rumbled as we passed him and entered the club.
The pulsing lights and pounding music were a lot to take in at first and I stepped off to
one side to give my eyes and ears a chance to adjust. I sensed them before I saw them. Succubi and incubi sent out very distinct waves of energy. Most people think they're just being attracted to someone or aroused by their surroundings, but it's actually the creatures preparing their prey.
I draw the blade from my boot even as they came towards us. It was the first time I'd seen a succubus and an incubus work in tandem. It made sense, I supposed, since they weren't competing for the same, for lack of a better word, food. I reached behind me with my free hand and felt Judah's fingers curl around mine. I pulled him close to my back and spoke at a normal volume, knowing the creatures could hear me. I kept it simple. “Leave.”
The succubus laughed, a melodious sound that carried through the noise of the crowd. Heads turned, but the pair never took their eyes off of me. Of all the Paranormal Beings, these were the ones who proved that you couldn't judge danger by appearance. Both succubi and incubi seemed to be breathtakingly beautiful...until the pheromones they secreted wore off and they were revealed to be just as regular-looking as the next person. Unfortunately, the only time either one was ever seen sans pheromones was when they were dead and that pretty much limited it to hunters who had seen their true faces.
