by Michele Hauf
She hadn’t expected Pink to return to her doorstep. When they’d argued, Zoë had inadvertently leaned out across the wards, and that had been all her opponent had needed to make a move.
Now, she lay on a black velvet chaise in a sleek room that must be an office, judging by the black desk with the unopened silver laptop in the center. The walls were slate with silver accents and black fixtures. A lamp with dozens of silver globes suspended from steel poles hung in the center of the room.
She spied the pink-haired vampiress standing by the door across the vast room, arms crossed, head cocked to the side and casting her the evil eye. She looked pleased as pickled punch to see Zoë in such a position.
No time for playing the victim—she had to stay alert and suss the situation. Zoë sat up quickly. To her left, a man in a dark, pin-striped business suit stood with hands in his front trouser pockets. Not so tall, with close-cropped brown hair that was tousled as much as short hair could tousle. He had an average face, but closely spaced blue eyes. Zoë always identified close-spaced eyes with those of a predator.
He offered a hand to shake and she took it as he said, “Nice to finally meet the mastermind behind Magic Dust. I apologize for Switch’s unnecessary use of force to bring you here today.”
“Mauritius?” Zoë guessed. His British accent was more pronounced in person. And he came off as polite. But then, she’d had no expectations beyond fangs.
He splayed his hands out at his sides. “Not what you were expecting?”
“Actually, I thought you’d be older. Taller.” She eased a hand along her aching jaw and shot the vampiress a look. He’d called her Switch? Where had she heard that name?
Kaz had mentioned it.
Everything was so tied together with Kaz’s investigation. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t picked up the clues earlier. But he’d never mentioned he’d been talking with a vampiress whose hair was half black and half shocking pink. If he had, could they have discussed this reasonably without him marching out of her life in a rage?
“Why did you bring me here?” Zoë asked Mauritius. “Wait. If it’s about the missing supply, I can explain.”
“Please do.” Mauritius placed his hands behind his back. He may not have appeared imposing but the aura he gave off chilled Zoë to the bone. His eyes weren’t right. They were too young.
“I work in batches. One a day,” she started cautiously. For some reason she felt as if she was being weighed and measured. “I needed six batches to fulfill the large order you had recently requested. There was an accident, and half of the last batch was destroyed. I didn’t have time to obtain more ichor, though I did go to FaeryTown to try and buy some. That was an unsuccessful trip. I didn’t know who to talk to. Faeries aren’t my thing. I’ll make up for it next time.”
Maybe. She wasn’t sure anymore what she was actually creating. A blend that would cure vampires of their addiction to faery dust? Or a vicious, amped-up version of dust that drove vampires insane? Kaz had suggested she was warlock. The molecular magic she used was the only thing capable of altering faery dust. Indeed, warlock magic.
She was in over her head. Where was her father when she needed him?
“I didn’t bring you here because of the shortage,” Mauritius said. “I can overlook your little mistake. Though I will insist you not contact any in FaeryTown for the base product. I will provide you all the ichor you need, Mademoiselle Guillebeaux. Your work is in the lab, not out procuring supply or even hawking the goods.”
Hawking the goods? That sounded so not like a man who was trying to help vampires with her blend, but rather like an entrepreneur who was trying to increase sales.
“The demand has increased,” Mauritius continued. “You shouldn’t be surprised. Your product is remarkable.”
Yes, but, she wanted to argue, just what kind of product had she produced?
“Switch deduced you’ve been creating the goods in a tower room, yes?”
Zoë nodded.
“You need a bigger lab to work in. I am having my men create a suitable work space for you as we speak.”
“No, I— I need my spell room. The space is fine for doing what I do. The best work is done in small batches. And I’ve all my accoutrements and supplies at hand.” Zoë stood and wiped her clammy hands down her pant legs. “But I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’m not making Magic Dust. I would never knowingly create such a wicked blend.”
Mauritius arched a single brow and held her gaze with a devilish smirk. His pale blue eyes faded and the pupils pinned hers as if by a dark laser. Too much spoken in that expression. Too terribly much.
Heartbeats stalling, Zoë shook her head, unwilling to believe such hideous truths. “No, I can’t be. Luc said...” Her best friend would not lie to her. Not after everything they had been through together. “Where is Luc? I have to see him.”
“He’s having a bit of trouble controlling his impulses lately. I don’t want to unleash him on society when he’s intent on tearing out the throats of anyone wearing something that sparkles.”
“No, that’s not right. He’s not— Oh, my goddess.”
Hands shaking, Zoë looked away from Mauritius, out the window. They were four stories in the air and she could see rooftops and not far off the arched buttresses of Nôtre Dame. So she must be somewhere in the fifth district. Where, though?
Kaz had hated her when he’d stormed out this morning, accusing her of horrible things and making her feel lower than the lowest. But had his suspicions been based on truth?
A truth she sensed was more real than she wanted to accept.
Could she cycle the world backward a day to find herself lying in bed beside her lover without a care in the world? They had been so close, had shared themselves. She could imagine Kaz’s shock to wake after such a night, only to learn the woman he’d had sex with had betrayed him.
No!
“You’re lying,” she insisted. “Luc told me the blend I gave him was helping him.”
“He lied to you.”
“He would not lie to me,” she insisted firmly.
Would he? The vampire had fallen victim to the destructive clutches of ichor. When high on faery dust Luc had been erratic and less than trustworthy. Yet he’d never been cruel to her. Never so cruel as he once had been.
Zoë touched her cheek, feeling the smooth scar beneath her fingertips. “Why would Luc lie to me?”
“I assume because I offered him much more than friendship with a witch had to offer. I gave him security, a home and lots of cash for the information he gave to me. Along with an endless supply of Magic Dust.”
“You bribed him?”
“Initially? No. Luc came to me of his own volition and told me about your blend. How he thought it would blow the regular dust out of the air, so to speak, and be a real moneymaker for me. He was looking for status. A business hookup with me can prove quite profitable. But then when he knew I would need you to work closely with me, he started to relent. That’s when we had to, uh, detain him.”
“You’re keeping him prisoner?”
Mauritius shrugged. Switch shifted her feet to stand at alert, hands at her hips.
“You’ve been selling my blend, knowing it’s harming vampires and making them worse?”
“Hell, yes. What do I care, if they pay me?”
“But you made me believe you wanted to help vampires.”
“Tut, mademoiselle, you’re not that naive. You can’t possibly believe that what you were putting in those glass vials wasn’t fucking up the vampires something fierce.”
Zoë clasped a hand over her chest. Heartbeats thundered.
“I believed the blend was a cure. I studied my grimoires for months, concocting a spell that should have dispelled the efficacy of the dust.”
Add to that the m
olecular magic, and...oh, she had failed on an inconceivable level.
“Perhaps you are that naive.” Mauritius nodded toward Switch, who strode toward Zoë. “And yet, I know only strong magic can alter faery dust. So strong it’s not sanctioned by the Light. Isn’t that so? Do your fellow witches know of what you are capable?”
She stared hard at him. He would not use that as blackmail. Could not. Oh, hell.
“I admire you,” he said with a wink. “You’ve such a manner that conceals the strength you harbor within. Marvelous. Well, what’s done is done. Easily overlooked, yes? I need you to begin work on the next batch. Switch will take you to the new lab. Don’t give her trouble. She’s liable to give you a bruise on the other side of your jaw. Wouldn’t want to have my star cooker work while in pain.”
“Cooker?”
“You cook the product for me, yes? Or what is it you call it? Conjure it? Alter the molecules—”
“I refuse!”
Mauritius stood before her and she hadn’t even noticed him move. Vampires had a way of doing that. The man was a head taller than she was and he smelled like nothing. A nonentity. Yet the tips of his fangs lowered over his bottom lip, speaking when words were unnecessary.
Zoë swallowed and shook her head. “You won’t bite me.”
“Why not? Witches taste good. I could enslave you, steal your magic and you’d conjure Magic Dust for me endlessly after.”
Another swallow got stuck in her throat. Zoë grasped the air with a fist. “There’s one problem with your evil plan.”
“I don’t see a problem. And your blood smells...” He inhaled, closing his eyes as if drawing in the aroma of a fine wine. “Innocent, yet so powerful.”
“If you steal my magic, it’ll weaken me. As you’ve said, I use a very powerful magic to create the blend. If that special magic is drained, you’ve no Magic Dust.”
He tilted his head in thought. A fang glinted. She had him. But that didn’t make her proud or relieved in any manner.
“Let me go,” she said firmly.
“Well, if I can’t bite you, I’m going to have to keep you. I would be a fool to let my moneymaker out of sight. The lab, remember?”
“You can’t keep me here. That’s kidnapping. I want to be taken home.”
“Your home won’t stand for much longer. After your spell room has been moved, we’ll have to torch the place to remove evidence. You understand.”
“No! All of my things—Sid.”
Mauritius looked to Switch, but the vampiress merely shrugged.
“He’s my cat,” Zoë managed, defeat lowering her shoulders and making her legs shake. She tightened her fists at her sides, but when she wanted to speak forcefully her words only whispered out, “You can’t burn the place.” Zoë beat her fists against the vampire’s chest as he wrangled her into his grasp. “You bastard!”
“Mademoiselle Guillebeaux.” The vampire bracketed her face with his palms and she felt a sudden heat flood her skin and relax her tense muscles. Her fists spread open. Her eyelids fluttered. “You want to do this. You believe your blend is helping vampires.” The man’s voice eased into her brain on a warm hush. She liked it. A tiny smile curved her lips. “You will honor our agreement, and you will be pleased with your new lab. Yes?”
While her brain wanted to scream and rage at him, Zoë found herself nodding in agreement. His voice felt so good, seemed to wrap itself around her in a lilting cocoon. Maybe what she was doing helped vampires, after all. She didn’t know anymore. She couldn’t react the way she felt necessary. It was as if he were controlling her with vampiric persuasion.
She needed to wield her magic against him. Magic that was never reliable when she was under duress.
“You’re going to do as I say, yes?”
She nodded in assent to the vampire’s command.
“Run along, then.”
“Of course,” Zoë said, and walked toward Switch.
* * *
Kaz waited beside the limo parked behind the office building. It had taken him five minutes to catch up with the limo as it had driven through the streets, across the bridge and to this building in the fifth. He’d run as if the devil was on his heels, and he was only now catching his breath.
This was the car he’d seen Switch shove Zoë into. He wasn’t sure if Zoë would return with Switch, but he had to take the chance that she would. Switch no longer mattered. Zoë was the key. He needed to get the witch alone and question her about her involvement in the Magic Dust operation.
As well, he sensed the least fight from the witch.
So when Switch swung around the building with Zoë’s arm firmly in grasp and shoved her toward the vehicle, Kaz’s brain cautiously warned, Be calm and feel the situation out. Yet his heart thudded at the sight of Zoë’s rough treatment. No matter her intentions by creating the dangerous dust, he would not allow anyone to harm her.
“Kaz!” Zoë spied him as the vampiress opened the back door of the car. “Help me!”
Whether or not that plea was for real, or a trap to lure the hunter in closer so they could both take him out, Kaz didn’t vacillate between the right and wrong of it overlong. Instinct screamed that Zoë was in genuine trouble.
He ran for the vampiress and punched her, only to receive a swipe of claws across his face. Fangs extended, the vampiress lunged toward his neck, but cringed back when she saw the bladed collar.
“Take a bite,” he offered.
She hissed.
Stake still holstered, he kneed Switch in the gut and delivered an uppercut to her jaw, which snapped back her head and knocked her out. Vamps may be strong and immortal, but they could still be dropped by a fist to the mandible that pinched the rich collection of nerves at the base of the ear. She collapsed by the open car door. No stake necessary.
From out of the driver’s side, another vampire charged Kaz. Big, male and wielding a knife. This time Kaz had no qualms to using the stake. He caught the vamp in the heart and the stake pinioned out. Ash rained over him. The knife dropped to the tarmac with a clatter.
Stepping back and jumping once to shake off the loose vamp ash, Kaz turned just as Zoë ran into his arms. She reached up around his neck, but he pushed her away.
“The blades,” he warned of his coat collar. “You okay?”
“It’s all wrong, Kaz. The blend isn’t what I thought it was. I’m so sorry. Get me out of here before they lock me up and force me to do terrible things.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“What?”
“You’re working for the people I’ve been investigating, Zoë.”
“Not by choice. I thought I was...doing a good thing. You can trust me. I need to get home. They’re going to burn it!”
“Who’s inside?” Kaz asked, casting his gaze up the glass-walled building.
“They went out the other way when Switch brought me down. Mauritius did.”
“Mauritius?”
“He’s the vampire behind it all. Please, Kaz, I have to get home. I understand you need to take care of this problem, but... Please,” she said on a gasp that felt to Kaz as helpless as she looked.
If the man behind the plan, Mauritius, had already left, then there was nothing more he could do here. At the very least, he needed to keep the creator of Magic Dust in hand.
Did he trust Zoë?
Not for a moment.
* * *
Kaz was all business as he strode quickly toward her home. He didn’t offer to take Zoë’s hand, and she had to run to keep up with his urgent pace. She sensed his speed wasn’t because he worried for her home, but rather, was fueled by his anger.
He hated her.
And it was all her fault. All this time, she was the person he had been looking for. It sickened he
r to realize that, and she had no idea how to make it better.
Everything was not as it should be, and she had made it so. That he could even stand to be near her proved his strength, or rather, his focus on doing his job.
When they got to the end of the block, Zoë saw the smoke curling up from her rooftop and flames dancing inside the tower windows.
“I have to get inside!”
Kaz caught her about the waist, and swung her off her scrambling feet and into his arms. She beat against his shoulders, but he was intent on keeping her in hand. But he could not stop her. He didn’t understand. “You’re not going to run into a burning building. I’ve done that once before. Never again.”
“Wh-what?” What was he talking about?
“We’ll call the fire brigade.”
“No! I don’t care about my things. Everything is replaceable. But Sid is in there.”
Kaz did not relent his tight clutch on her. And Zoë did not relent her struggles, kicking the air in an attempt to lever away from him, but with no success.
“Sid will find a way out, Zoë. Cats are smart.”
“Not if the doors and windows are closed. It’s been so cool lately, I’ve had the windows pulled down.”
She wrestled away from his grasp and started running down the street, but Kaz caught her again, swinging her from her feet to hold her struggling against his body.
“Set me down!”
“Not if you’re going to run into a burning building. Never again! Do you hear me?”
She wasn’t sure what it was about fires that was making him say such nonsensical things. He slapped his hands about her wrists, holding her with an ease that proved his strength.
“Witches and fire, Zoë. Think about it.” She stopped struggling and looked at him, finding his gaze wasn’t so hard, perhaps even teary. “If I let you go, are you going to be smart?”
“Yes! I promise.”
