He nodded.
Being only very recently de-virgined myself, the idea made me tense. “How did she know?”
He cleared his throat. “She tasted it.”
Tasted. “She was like you?”
“No,” he said. “She wasn’t a vampire. It was just her way of sampling the product.”
As if she were tasting grapes at the grocery store. I started to think I might not be so fond of witches, either. “Why did she want it in the first place?”
He let go of my hand to downshift. We bumped over a narrow bridge, its planks uneven beneath the tires and its steel girders rusted with age. I glanced down at the barely trickling stream and mossy rocks below as we passed over.
“Who knows. Witches are Harvesters. They deal in anything and everything.”
I glanced back at him in question.
“They’re what you might call dealers in the supernatural black market,” he clarified, pausing as we came to a fork to peer at the road signs.
“Right on Big Pine,” I reminded him, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Good memory.”
“Your brother was very specific.” I smiled. “So there’s a supernatural black market?”
“Of a sort. There’s a huge demand for blood, bones, organs. You name it.”
“And virgins,” I added.
“And virgins.”
I looked out the window again. It was all somehow too beautiful for what we were talking about. Too normal. It was bad enough that Patrick was out in the world, collecting and killing. But to know he was just a single layer of the onion was unsettling. “What did she do?”
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, the leather creaking. “She took away my senses.” He paused. “For a year.”
My brows drew together. “She made you . . . crazy?”
“No.” He let out a dry, humorless laugh. “She took my actual senses. Sight. Smell. Hearing. All of them.”
As the gravity of what he meant sank in, absolute horror struck me. My eyes went wide. “How did you survive? How did you keep from going insane?”
He gazed out the windshield, jaw hard. “Patrick. He kept me confined to the mountain. Restrained most of the time. He implanted thoughts and images into my mind.” He shook his head. “Kept me sane. It was the only time I ever knew he was in my head.”
“Because he wanted you to know,” I guessed, feeling ill. An entire year locked inside your own body. It would have been like suffocating.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles. “I can’t imagine.”
“It was a long time ago.” He looked at me. “Now you can understand why I don’t like witches.”
I made a noise of dismay. “Definitely.”
Turning back to the road, he slowed the car again. “I think this is it.”
I looked up. A pothole-riddled gravel drive turned off to the left and disappeared around a bend into a copse of trees. The weed-choked, rusted barbed wire fence lining one side bore a crude sign made of rough wood. The words No Terspassing had been spray painted in black.
“No terspassing, huh?” I said, eying the misspelled word with amusement.
Jesse just looked tense as he scanned the area.
“We’re waiting for Felix?” I asked.
He slowly pulled down the drive, gravel crunching beneath the tires. He went only far enough so that the rear of the car was off the road and stopped, keeping his hand on the wheel while gazing out. “He should be here any minute.”
I studied the barren stretch of road behind us as he shut off the car, leaving only the tick of the cooling engine to fill the air.
“How does Felix know her?” I asked.
He dropped his fingers from the keys and ran them through his hair, the silky black strands falling right back into place. “Who knows. I don’t know anything about my brother’s life anymore.” He sighed. “I don’t know him anymore.”
“Yes, you do,” I said. “He’s still your brother. That doesn’t go away. It doesn’t change.”
He glanced at me with a sad smile and reached over with his free hand to brush my hair from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear. “I don’t deserve you.”
I’d heard him say the same words so many times in the last twenty-four hours that I had to laugh. “If you keep saying that, one of these days I might believe you.”
“Good.”
I eyed the glare of the sun on the dashboard with unease. I knew he didn’t burst into flames like vampires of folklore, but it still made him uncomfortable. “It’s bright today.”
“Yes.”
“We could’ve waited until this evening.”
“Dealing with witches is dangerous enough in the light of day.” He looked at me. “I’ll be fine.”
The sudden flapping of wings right outside my window startled me, and I whirled around. A large crow landed with a hollow clang on the dented mailbox just a few feet away, its glossy feathers ruffling as it settled into place. It cawed loudly and cocked its head to the side in a twitchy movement, its beady black eye staring at me with interest.
“You’re late,” Jesse said, leaning over so he could look out.
I frowned, looking at him. Who was he—
“Got chased by some starlings. Annoying little bastards.”
I gasped and turned back to see Felix standing in the driveway beside my window, straightening his vest with a look of mild displeasure. The crow was gone.
“You,” I said. I’d known what he was, but to actually see it in person was shocking. “That was . . . you.”
He paused and blessed me with a grin, a dimple forming at the corner of his mouth. “You clean up well.”
I blushed, and Jesse spoke up. “Are we ready?”
Felix winked at me and opened the mailbox, its rusty hinges squeaking in protest. He stuck his hand inside and waited.
Jesse settled back in his seat, his fingers drumming the steering wheel.
“What’s he doing?” I asked Jesse.
He absently brought my knuckles to his lips and kissed them. “Probably some kind of identification system. Witch’s version of ADT.”
Interested, I looked back outside to see Felix finally withdrawing his hand with a jerk, as if he was pulling it from something that didn’t want to let it go. He wiped his fingers on his jeans with a scowl and then walked over and opened the door. I leaned forward and adjusted the seat so he could climb in the back.
“Drive,” he said, getting situated.
As Jesse started the car, I turned around. “What was in there?”
Felix made a face. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
I hesitated and then nodded before glancing at his clothes. “So, how do you keep them?”
“Between forms you mean?” He straightened his crisp lapels and grinned. “It’s magic, baby.”
Fascinated, I smiled at him. “I’ll say.”
“Her name is Par,” Jesse corrected in a dry voice.
Felix winked again, and I turned back to the front with a warm face. I had a feeling he flirted so shamelessly just to toy with his brother. Hiding my smile, I focused on the driveway we were bumping down, the potholes big enough to jar my teeth. We rounded the bend, and I saw it dead-ended at a two-story farmhouse.
“Nice place,” Jesse said with a scowl.
As we neared, I realized the place was decrepit. Its weathered clapboard siding was a sickly shade of gray, what little white paint that remained peeling like an aging sunburn. The porch roof sagged, and towering weeds had just about overtaken the front steps. The single-paned windows were dark and decidedly ominous. The entire house seemed like it was watching our approach, and I unconsciously tightened my grip on Jesse’s hand as we eased to a stop in the otherwise empty yard.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” I said quietly, peering through the windshield and ignoring the sick feeling I had upon seeing the place. It looked remarkably like a house I’d lived
in once.
“Oh, she’s home,” Felix said. “Let’s go.”
Jesse glanced at me before turning off the ignition. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I said.
The sound of our car doors slamming echoed eerily around the empty yard. Slipping his keys into his pocket, Jesse walked around and took my hand, shielding his eyes with the other. His face was grim as he waited for Felix’s lead.
“Relax,” his brother said, putting on a pair of sunglasses as he walked ahead. “You’re gonna give me herpes with all that frowning.”
I couldn’t help a startled laugh at the random complaint. Jesse just shook his head and cautiously followed, keeping a firm grip on my hand. The dilapidated steps groaned under our weight as we climbed them. At the door, we stood back as Felix removed his shades, reached up and knocked twice, waited, knocked four more times, waited again, and then knocked one last time. I swallowed and leaned closer to Jesse. I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to someone who tried to approach without following the procedure.
After what felt like an eternity, the old, patinated brass knob turned, and the door opened with a slow creak. I sucked in a breath at the sight of the expressionless behemoth of a man standing in the doorway. His head had been crudely shaved, and his clothes looked like they hadn’t been washed in ages. He stared down at Felix silently. I fought the urge to cover my nose. I could smell him from where I stood.
“Michael,” Felix greeted him, unperturbed. “We’re here to see Naomi.”
The man didn’t look our way but nodded once and stepped back, holding the door open.
Felix glanced at us over his shoulder and then walked inside. I looked at Jesse, but his gaze was locked on Michael, who stood as a statue, dull eyes staring straight ahead.
“Don’t leave my side,” Jesse warned in a low voice.
“Don’t worry,” I said, wondering if maybe this was a bad idea after all. “I won’t.”
19
Dead Mice & Payment Plans
Jesse scanned the dim interior of the dusty old house with wary eyes. He trusted his brother, yes, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be here. Especially not with Par. He’d originally wanted to come without her, but the risk of leaving her alone wasn’t an option. Holding her hand tightly, he followed his brother through the foyer and to the right down a poorly lit hallway lined with peeling wallpaper. He heard the door close behind them, and the sound made him grit his teeth.
“Where are we going?” he asked Felix.
“Just up ahead.”
In a few feet, the hall opened up into a room that was so cluttered with jars and bottles and drying herbs that, had it not been for the 1950s olive-colored stove and refrigerator standing out amidst the clutter, he wouldn’t have recognized it for a kitchen. Felix stopped in the doorway, and Jesse glanced back down the hall, putting Par between him and his brother. He didn’t trust the silent bastard who’d answered the door.
But he was gone. The foyer was empty, with only dust motes floating in the sunlight filtering in through the window above the door. Frowning, Jesse turned back toward the kitchen. He hadn’t heard the man leave, and that was saying something.
“Naomi,” his brother said. “I appreciate you seeing us on such short notice.”
“Enter,” came the reedy voice of an old woman that Jesse couldn’t see. “And sit at my table.”
Felix glanced back at Jesse and nodded as if he approved of the welcome and then walked into the room. Jesse followed with Par tight at his side. To the left, hunched over a wire cage that held a white ferret, was the witch, her faded floral house dress looking deceivingly innocent. She was dropping what appeared to be a dead mouse into the cage by its tail, murmuring quietly to what was obviously a pet. He felt Par make a quiet noise of shock and glance away. He tightened his fingers on hers but didn’t take his eyes off the witch.
“Jess,” Felix urged quietly. “Sit down.”
Jesse did as he was told, knowing if he didn’t, it would no doubt be seen as some kind of affront. Directing Par to the chair between him and Felix, they sat at a long wooden table that took up the entire center of the room. Its top had long since lost its finish and was marred with scratches and water marks but was free of clutter, unlike the rest of the room. The sound of their chair legs scraping on the yellowed linoleum floor was grating in the silence.
Closing the lid of the cage with a rusty squeak, the witch turned to face them, her shrewd hazel eyes clear and sharp despite her wrinkled skin and thin white hair, which hung around her face in stringy curls. Her gaze came to rest on Par, and Jesse bristled.
“Ah,” she said, as if seeing something only she could see. “You’re a special girl, aren’t you?”
Unsure, Par opened her mouth, but Jesse silenced her with a look. The less interaction she had with the witch, the better.
“Shall we talk business?” Felix asked, resting his hands casually on the tabletop.
“Of course,” she said, her dry lips forming a smile that revealed stained teeth. Moving with surprising ease, she walked over and took a seat opposite theirs, gazing at each of them in turn. “What is it you think I can do for you?”
Felix got right to the point. “Can you do a protection spell? Maybe one that can also hide her from someone?”
“Hide her,” she mused, looking at Par with renewed interest. “And who might you be hiding from, my dear?”
Jesse spoke up. “Someone very powerful. That’s all you need to know.”
Arching thin brows, she glanced at him but spoke to Felix. “Your brother is rather temperamental.”
“Understatement of the year,” Felix said. “So can you do the spell?”
She regarded Jesse a moment. “Protection, no. Cloaking, yes. You’ll have to handle the protecting on your own.”
“What exactly does a cloaking spell do?” Jesse asked, unsurprised at the witch’s answer. Asking for protection against sunburns or the common cold was one thing. Asking for it against possibly the most powerful vampire on the planet was another.
The witch looked at him. “It won’t make her invisible, if that’s what you’re asking. But locater spells won’t work on her. Neither will telepathic searches.”
It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. “Is it painful?”
“The spell?” she asked, her laugh a dry croak. “Heavens, no.”
He studied her and then looked at his brother. Felix nodded. Under the table he rubbed his thumb over Par’s knuckles and looked back at the witch. “We’ll take it.”
She smiled in approval. “Might I also suggest something else? In the unfortunate event that you are ever separated.”
Par spoke for the first time, meeting the witch’s gaze. “We won’t be.”
“Never say never, dear,” she said. “Situations like these often go sour even with the best of intentions.”
Jesse leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t like the idea of her knowing anything about them besides the spell they were negotiating. “And what might situations like these be?”
The woman shrugged, her bony shoulders rising and falling. “Situations that involve vampires, of course.”
He glared, but Felix interrupted. “Hear her out, Jess.”
Par looked up at him, her eyes willing him to relax. “It doesn’t hurt to listen,” she added quietly.
He leveled his hard gaze on the witch. “What is it?”
Her face lit up with the glee of a car salesman. “A binder. Between you and her, so that if she’s ever parted from you, you’ll know.” She inclined her head. “Parted from you against her will, that is.”
Jesse considered it. Precaution was never wasted. In carpentry, you learned to measure twice and cut once. The rule applied here too. “Okay,” he said finally. “Do it.”
“It’ll cost you extra.”
“Fine.”
“Very well,” she said, pleased, and rose from her chair and started from the room.
>
Felix spoke up. “We’re also going to need antisummoning charms for both of us. Strong ones.”
Jesse glanced at him, raising his brows.
The witch considered his request and then guessed, “Something to prevent your master from calling you home to him.”
Felix nodded.
“I’ll see what I can do.” With that, she shuffled out of the room.
Warily, Jesse watched her go, her slippered feet disappearing through a curtained doorway beside the ferret’s cage. When she was gone, he turned to Felix.
“Is that even possible?” Jesse asked. Even Felix, with his natural resistance to Patrick’s whims, had never been able to deny a summons. It was something in the sire-bond.
“Don’t know, but it’s worth a shot. It’d be a shame to go to all this trouble just to have the cocksucker drag us back with a word.”
It damn sure would be. Jesse grunted in agreement. “It’d be worth its weight in gold.”
“Hell yes. And I’ll pay for them. You deal with the other shit.”
“No. You won’t.” The deal seemed level enough, but Jesse’s mistrust of witches ran deep. He didn’t want Felix more involved than he already was. He glanced at Par. “You okay with this?”
She nodded, looking around the room. “Any little bit will help, right?”
“It’s legit,” Felix said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head. “I promise.”
“How long have you dealt with her?” Jesse asked him.
Felix squinted as he thought. “Hell, at least forty years or so. And you know,” he grinned. “She wasn’t bad looking back in the day.”
Par’s eyes went wide and she laughed, covering her mouth with her fingers. “Oh my.”
Even Jesse relaxed slightly. “What’s with the door-answering service?”
“Son,” Felix said. “She’s got two of them.”
He made a noise of acknowledgment and then began bouncing his knee. “How long is this going to take? I want to be done with this.”
Par slid her hand that he still held onto his thigh, and he stopped immediately. “Be patient,” she scolded.
The urge to kiss her was strong, but he settled for touching her cheek. She closed her eyes briefly and leaned into it. As he was lowering his hand, he realized his brother was staring at him with an unreadable expression. Jesse arched his brows, but Felix looked away, glancing out the window to his right.
First Fruits Page 19
