by Michele Hauf
“Possibly. It’s a lead my informant gave me.”
“She’s all sorts of suspicious, but I’d never task her with human murders. Werewolves, on the other hand...”
That answered Kaz’s suspicion about what sort of wet work the vampiress did.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about something since assigning you this job,” Rook said. “If this new blend of faery dust—”
“They’re calling it Magic Dust.”
“Is that so? Huh. Well, if it is making vampires go after one another, maybe we should stand back and let them at it. That solves our problem, doesn’t it?”
“But that’s the thing. The longtooths aren’t killing one another for this new blend. It’s different than the usual stuff. It—I don’t know—it won’t let them go. It’s as if it builds up in their system and never shuts off, which compels them to seek more of the dust.”
“Like meth,” Rook commented.
“Yes.” Kaz had researched methamphetamine just days ago. “The drug turns on the dopamine in the brain and never shuts it off. It’s like an overflowing faucet. Unfortunately, vampires on this stuff go ape-shit for anything sparkly, thinking it’s faery dust. They murdered my friends, Rook. I will make it stop.”
Rook crossed his arms over his chest, an uncharacteristic move. He was always on the alert, hands free at his sides, prepared. He shook his head. “Family and friends are never safe once ensconced in your world.”
He knew that. And that was the toughest pill to swallow.
“Don’t let sorrow for your friends jeopardize your focus out in the field, Kaspar.”
Kaz lifted his chin.
“You want revenge for the death of your friends? I gave it to you with this assignment. But first and foremost, we need to get to the core of the operation and find the origin of this insipid drug.”
“I will do that.”
“Not if you take out the vampire who killed your friends in a blind rage. Keep your wits about you, man. You’ll need him to lead you to the operation.”
“I’m aware of that, and intend to do just that.”
The knights vowed only to slay those vamps that presented a clear threat to humans. Of course, each knight had his own scale of gauging threat level. Kaz counted the vampire lethal when he killed, and not before then. The vampire who had killed his friends was still out there. And he had only one fang. That should go a long way in identifying his perp.
“Once this Magic Dust circulates and becomes easy to obtain,” Kaz said, “half the vampire population in Paris could flip out.”
Rook sighed and tapped the computer screen. “And you think Switch can lead you to the source? She’s a hard one.”
“So it seems. But it’s the best lead I’ve got.”
“Don’t let this become a war. The last thing the Order needs is a human to see the veil pulled aside and witness hunters staking vampires.”
As had almost happened the other night when Zoë had stumbled onto the slaying.
“Make it quick, clean and quiet, Rothstein.”
“I will.”
“Keep me apprised,” Rook said, and he walked out, leaving the lab door open.
Kaz reread the info on Switch. There were a few details that would aid him in overpowering her. One being that it was believed a vamp from the Anakim tribe had created her (though that information was only hearsay). That tribe of vampires was not immune to sunlight.
Sunset would be the optimal time to go looking for her.
* * *
Walking home from the grocery store, Zoë inhaled the evening air. She loved crisp, cool autumn. In this kind of weather she often wore ankle boots and tweed slacks and a snuggly, solid-colored sweater, along with her mother’s diamond pendant at her neck. Classic and cozy.
In her recyclable bag, fresh veggies nestled against a crusty baguette. The celery, leeks and potatoes would make a nice stew that should last her—and Sid—a few days. Now that she needed to increase production for her buyer, she would be working nights through the week.
Now, if only Luc would give her a call. She’d stopped by his apartment last week, but no one was home. She felt sure it was tough getting over a broken engagement, but to fall victim to such an addictive drug as faery dust? She’d thought Luc stronger than that, but then again, she knew he had a dark side that sometimes lured him to do things out of character. Best to give him the distance his very soul must require.
Turning the corner toward her house, she passed by the narrow alley that was heaped with the neighbor’s discarded, bent-iron bed frame. Kicking the fallen leaves, she delighted in the schushing chorus that responded.
Grunts echoed from down the cobbled alleyway, and she paused, stepping back beside a shed wall so as not to be seen as she peeked around the corner of the building.
About fifty yards away, three men and one woman stood over a fallen man. In seconds the man who had been prone leaped to his feet and swiped a threatening weapon toward his attackers. With each movement, the tails of his long, black leather coat dusted the air like bat wings.
Clinging to the rough brick, Zoë recognized one of the attackers. The vampiress with the bright pink hair—the very vampire she had hoped to never meet in a dark alley. She stood flanked by two others to her right and one to her left.
The other man, the object of the vampires’ scorn, was human. She recognized him, as well.
“Kaz,” she whispered, then checked herself to be sure she’d not spoken too loudly.
Why was he standing up to four vampires? And doing an excellent job of it, since he wasn’t bleeding or dead.
Yet.
Did the man pick a fight wherever he went? He’d easily taken down four men the previous night. But tonight’s opponents were vampires. They had double, or even triple the strength of the strongest human man, not to mention a supernatural agility and speed.
The vampiress chuckled and checked Kaz with an expert kick, which landed her high-heeled boot aside his jaw. Her henchmen followed closely with more brutal punishment. None went at Kaz alone; they attacked en masse. One wrenched Kaz’s arm around behind his back, which caused Kaz to cry out in pain.
Kaz fell to his knees. The guy was outnumbered.
“I just want to talk,” he managed, then spat blood to the side. “We don’t need to do this. I made no move to harm you or your buddies.”
Narrowing her gaze, Zoë saw that the weapon he held in his free hand was a stake. The very stake she’d stolen from him? How many people carried stakes on them unless they expected to get into a tussle with a vampire?
Why hadn’t she considered the possibility he was a hunter last night?
You were too googly-eyed at the time, remember?
Right. Rushing head-on into happily ever after and kicking her glass slippers aside with abandon.
A kick to Kaz’s back flattened him. His head was crunched under one of the vampiress’s boot heels, and blood sputtered from his mouth.
Zoë cringed. The urge to rush for him, to help him in some way, had her teetering on the balls of her feet—but she wasn’t stupid. If Kaz couldn’t stand against the vampires, what could one feeble witch do but make it ten times worse?
From where she stood, she could fling some magic at them, but again, that would draw unnecessary attention to her. And she couldn’t feel the magic that normally hummed at the tips of her fingers because right now she was anxious. She could never access her magic unless she was calm.
“Don’t kill him,” she muttered as the female bent and wrenched up Kaz’s head by a hank of his hair.
Fangs exposed, the vampiress lunged for Kaz’s neck, yet the tips of those fangs did not prick skin. Releasing Kaz as if electrocuted, the vampiress jumped back, cursed and smacked a fist into her palm as she again swore aggress
ively.
Spitting on the fallen man, whose eyelids fluttered, the vampiress hissed something Zoë could not hear. Then she marched off, her henchmen in tow.
They didn’t intend to kill him? Rarely did a vampire let a human go free without, at least, a bite. And all encounters were usually removed from the human’s mind with persuasion, a means to enthrall the memory from their minds. It hadn’t appeared as if any of the vampires had taken the time to enthrall Kaz.
Zoë waited until the vampires were out of sight, then dashed down the alley and squatted beside the fallen man. He bled from his mouth, ear and his split knuckles. Apparently, he’d gotten in a few good punches.
The stake he’d wielded lay beside his head. Acting on some sort of emergency autopilot, she shoved the stake inside his inner coat pocket, then lifted him by the shoulders. Her heel slipped on the leaf-strewn cobbles as her struggles nearly toppled her. He was heavy, and he wasn’t helping her much because he was bleary. Zoë noticed his coat collar was edged with blades. She hadn’t noticed them the other night. Strange fashion statement. She had to be careful not to get cut.
“You need to get out of here before they come back. I don’t know why she didn’t bite you. You’re one lucky guy. Come on. I’m going to help you to stand, but you’re a big guy. You gotta do some work, too. Kaz?”
With a mumbling grunt, he struggled to his feet as if drunk. She suspected that the bruise on his temple had him dancing in and out of consciousness. But he managed to hook an arm over her shoulder and stumbled along beside her. She had to abandon the grocery bag. With luck, she could run back to get it before someone nabbed it or a rat found the booty.
Zoë led him toward her home, maneuvered him through the door and deposited him on the couch in the living room. It took some delicate finessing to get the coat off his shoulders without cutting herself. His black T-shirt had torn to reveal a monstrous bruise below his ribs and along the side of his torso. A kidney shot. That one must have hurt like a mother.
“You’re going to need a magical touch,” she said. “Fortunate for you, I can help you with that.”
She stood over him, spread her feet and smacked her palms together. Rubbing them slowly to heat her palms, she recited a healing spell, closing her eyes and focusing on the resonation of her voice as it touched the air. The healing she performed went beyond herbs and potions that most Light witches used. Her father had taught her this magic, and she used it in all aspects of her magical needs.
Words fading, but sound rising, she hummed deep in her throat, centering the vibrations in her chest as she laid her hands over Kaz’s body.
At what she knew was an electrifying touch, Kaz’s chest pulsed upward and his arms flailed. Alert, he moaned, looked down over what she was doing, then, still discombobulated, settled back into the couch. Zoë spread her palms over his chest and shoulders and down his arms and hands, humming constantly to maintain the magic’s resonance. At his ribs, she concentrated the healing vibrations.
Sensing the shock of her magic as it permeated his skin, the man groaned again.
The healing had been laid upon flesh and bone. Now, to make it permeate. Rubbing her palms together again, she summoned a soothing numbness spell to tender his pains. Blowing the visible white mist toward his wounds, she noted that he blinked and opened his eyes.
The man saw the magic, and muttered, “Y-you’re a witch?”
“Yes.”
“Witches creep me out.” And he passed out.
“Is that so?” Zoë righted, hands on her hips. “Well, this creepy witch just reduced your healing time from a week to less than half a day. Ungrateful bit of...”
She sighed. It was bad karma to be angry with someone who hadn’t asked for it. He probably wasn’t aware of what he had said. Pain often blurred rationality. She was thankful he was here, and not in the alley bleeding out, an open buffet for another vampire to come and snack on him.
But now a new problem had arisen. She may very possibly be harboring a hunter in her home. And for a witch who was friends with vampires, that was not a good thing.
Chapter 4
Kaz came to with a snort. Blinking his eyes, he squinted. Hmm, the ceiling was too high. The cloying scent of oranges and cinnamon concerned him, as well. His apartment usually smelled like the fake pine stuff the cleaning lady used during her monthly visits. And the couch he laid on felt hard and militant, not soft and lumpy like his.
Where was he?
He sat up abruptly, slapping a palm to his side where an ache pulled at his muscles and prodded his ribs. Curiously, that didn’t hurt as much as he expected it should.
His shirt was off, and he poked at his side. One of the vamps had shanked him in the ribs with a steel-toed boot. The blow had battered his kidney, dizzied his senses and taken the fight from him. Yet why was he not doubled with pain right now?
Rarely was he bested by his opponents. Four vampires? No problem. And he’d thought he’d had an advantage over Switch, finding her as the sun was setting and catching her not at full strength. Not true at all. She hadn’t been weak or seemingly fearful of the sun. And she’d had her henchmen, who hadn’t fought fairly, going at him all at once.
Stroking his fingertips along his neck, he searched for the inevitable wound, but his skin was smooth, save for the two-day stubble that reminded him he needed to shave. No bites? He’d almost forgotten. He wore a ward against vampires behind his ear. Whew.
Suddenly, Kaz’s vision landed on something soft and blue. Ruffles. The blue fabric danced around the hem of a black, pleated, wool skirt that stopped just above a pair of shapely knees. And higher, the narrow waist of that same black wool led up to a tiny blue bow centered between breasts that rose in soft mounds from the low neckline.
Mmm, now that looked like something that would eradicate the pain, if only he could touch...
Zoë’s hair swished to one side as she tilted her head and flashed him a bright smile. “Rise and shine, Kaz. I have breakfast.”
Breakfast? He had just been fighting.... But the room was light. Had he slept here on Zoë’s couch all night?
“Chia pudding and blueberries.”
She placed a bright yellow pottery bowl in one of his hands and held out a spoon, which he took without averting his eyes from her too sunny smile. Plucking out a blueberry from the bowl, she held it to his lips and, still trapped in a worshipful daze, Kaz opened his mouth to accept the offering.
Sweetness gushed across his tongue, even as he puzzled over the situation. As well, sweetness stood over him like some kind of Nightingale nurse rocking the schoolgirl look. What a sight to wake to. Unexpected, but he’d take it over what might have happened had he been left to lie in the alley all night.
Had he walked here on his own? He couldn’t recall much after taking the kidney punch. Had there been white smoke and chanting involved?
“They’re fresh.” She tapped the bowl. “I picked them this morning.”
Zoë sat on the coffee table before the couch. Her eyes were brighter than the sky after a summer rain, and her pink smile looked almost sneaky. Or was she sizing him up, trying to figure what next she’d steal from him?
He wondered where his stake was, and if he should search her. Not a bad idea, running his hands over those soft swells, emphasized by that tiny blue ribbon. Her breasts looked so full and firm. Maybe if he sort of fell forward and collapsed against her and nuzzled his face against them...
Whew! Kaz shook his head. Apparently, he still didn’t have his wits about him.
His fingers conformed about the warm bowl but he had no appetite for food, only a strange spinning at the fore of his brain, and a growing curiosity. “How did I get here?”
“You don’t remember?” He liked the husky edge to her voice. Bedroom sexy, but smart at the same time. “You’ve slept all night.
I watched the vampires attack you in the alley. Since my place was close, I helped you walk here. How’s your side?”
She’d witnessed him take that hellacious beating? Way to go, hunter. Good thing he hadn’t had the opportunity to stake any of them. He was slacking. And why was that?
Because a sexy mouth and a pair of enticing breasts kept luring him back to this woman who felt right. And what was wrong with that?
He eased a couple fingers along his torso. “Doesn’t hurt as much as I think it should. I took a punishing shot to the kidney. Normally, I could have held my own against four miserable—er...”
“Vampires?” she offered sweetly. “I’m sure you could have,” she said with a bit too much forced reassurance.
“Vampires? Come on. You’ve been watching too much TV.”
“You don’t have to put on an act for me, Kaz. I could plainly see they were vampires. The pink-haired one tried to bite you, but she stopped before sinking in her fangs. Weird. Most vamps would never pass up a free meal like they did you.”
Kaz’s jaw dropped open. Bloody hell, the woman knew too much. And he was damned if he didn’t wish for some kind of persuasion like the vampires used so he could take that memory from her mind.
“You can sit up with little pain because of the magic,” Zoë said. “It’s a healing spell. Speeds up the healing process remarkably. Another two or three hours and you should be good as new.”
Magic? Kaz now remembered bits and pieces of last night. Something about her chanting a spell as he’d groaned deliriously. Her hands had moved over his skin as if they were heated instruments designed to soothe and suck out the pain. He’d seen a white mist float before him, and had known it was magic, had just known.
“You’re a witch.”
“Aren’t you perceptive.”
Her snark didn’t rile him. He could deal with anything a female put to him. Except, apparently, three surprise henchmen. Damn, he should have had those vamps last night. But he hadn’t wanted to use the stake when his only intention had been to talk and get information. That decision may have proven a mistake.
