“Good. So…?”
“Getting splashed with the black stuff was my only reason for helping Kirkland with the ritual.”
Tegonni frowned. “Satanic miasma? Why would you want that?”
He leaned closer, grinning like a four-year-old revealing a big secret. “Because it makes you immune to vampire compulsion.”
Her jaw dropped and a straggled sound escaped her mouth. “Ah…what?”
Caden laughed. “You should see the look on your face. Vampire compulsion. The goo, like, negates a vamp’s magic on your will when they feed on you. My girlfriend is a sired vamp. I dig the biting, but not being a puppet. So we decided…”
Tegonni lost focus as she plopped back in her chair. Feeding without compulsion? This was what Fernando needed. An acceptable way to feed on human blood. Matanji had agreed taking free will was the real problem. She’d have to see this as a tolerable, if not ideal solution. Tegonni exhaled. The prospect of a workable solution was such a relief.
“Oooh.” Her young client studied her face. “Why the huge grin? Someone know a bloodsucker they want to get confidential with?”
Tegonni’s face burned, and chills danced along her skin. “No! I—”
“Relax. Your secret’s safe. Why wouldn’t you want to do a vampire? The bite is wicked hot.” The more she spluttered, the more he laughed.
“Everything okay, Dr. Ellis?” Nat asked from the opposite end of the room where he presided over a knot of counselors and clients.
“Yes, fine. Thanks.” She turned and gave him a quick smile, then looked away before he could realize her expression was fake. He knew her too well. She glared at Caden. “I’m not looking to do a vampire. My interest is related with a case I’m working on.”
Why did I tell him that? She took a deep breath and schooled herself back to some semblance of neutrality. Her anger was out of line. As was thinking about Fernando while counseling another client. Her stomach tightened. “I’m sorry, Caden. I should be focused on you.”
He shrugged, his grin still in place.
Twenty minutes later, she had to concede Caden wasn’t a danger to himself or others. Though having a stained soul was far from encouraged, she couldn’t go against his will to remove it. Same for being a vampire’s blood donor. Not considered the best choice by the Lightworkers, but it was a human’s right. Tegonni’s attempt to refer the youth to their rehab division was halfhearted and immediately rejected.
“Trista and I are a couple. It’s like…sharing souls when she feeds. Not her leeching off me.” He stood and stretched his lean arms above his head. “So, I’m done, right?”
Mouth slack, Tegonni nodded woodenly. Sharing souls?
“Sweet. Oh, and ah, good luck with your case.” Caden chuckled as he sauntered out of the conference room.
Tegonni sat, staring at nothing.
“Okay, what’s up now, hon?” Nat sat in Caden’s empty chair.
“I found our loophole.”
“Dr. Ellis!”
Tegonni jerked her head toward Jaime’s curt voice. Her boss stood in the doorway, and she did not look happy.
“My office.” She stormed out.
Silence filled the room in Jaime’s wake.
As everyone resumed what they’d been doing—carefully not looking in Tegonni’s direction—she looked to the ceiling and shook her head. Of course karma would strike now. “I guess I didn’t make my report vague enough.”
“Or maybe too vague. That would set her off. It might not be about Fernando at all.”
She glanced at Nat as she rose. “Right.”
“Good luck.”
* * * *
As soon as Tegonni sat, Jaime threw a piece of yellow paper across the desk. “What the hell is this?”
Tegonni glanced at the receipt and the tightness in her chest eased. Jaime wanted to argue over appropriation of resources.
She picked up and scanned the top of the paper. With everything going on, she didn’t feel like justifying her pencil budget, or whatever stupid thing had set Jaime off. Thank goodness this wasn’t about the report.
The Requested By line only showed their building’s address. No name. Next to that was an interdepartmental stamp. She didn’t bother reading the rest. “Jaime, Nat and I haven’t ordered anything from another department in the last two months. Only external orders for office supplies.”
“Yes, I pulled your official requests when I found this while investigating the Deveroe disaster.”
“You’re not going to put that on us. Intake is responsible for reading clients’ auras for possession. How did he get past them?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. And no, it wasn’t due to a judgment error in your department. However, this receipt makes me think something else is going on. Take a look at what was ordered.”
Disgruntled, Tegonni glanced down. And froze.
Chimp blood with stasis spell—one week supply
“No one in any department in this whole office is working with vampires. The only person I’ve talked to about vampires is you. Though I seem to remember forbidding you from getting involved with that supposedly repentant bloodsucker. Something you care to share?”
Tegonni gritted her teeth. “No.”
Her boss gave her an unfriendly smile. “I’ll make this simple. Stop what you are doing immediately. You may not find a problem with risking your life, but I cannot allow it. If you don’t let this ‘case’ go, expect consequences.”
“What, are you going to throw me in a cell next to Deveroe?”
“I absolutely will if I deem it necessary in order to protect this agency and the people I’m responsible for.”
Tegonni stared. She wouldn’t. “Aren’t I one of those people?”
Jaime stood and leaned forward, looming over the desk. “Not if you’re fraternizing with vampires. Be careful, Tegonni. You don’t want to find yourself in rehab on a permanent vacation.”
An icy chill washed over her. Jaime was serious. She was actually threatening her life. Just like in the dream.
“Consider this your only warning. I’ll be checking for future receipts. If this happens again, you will have a starring role in a very unpleasant investigation.” She sat down and flicked her hand. “Now get the fuck out of my office.”
Tegonni went back to her office, leaving Nat to finish with the group session. Her chest throbbed as if she’d been hit with Jaime’s fists instead of her threats. Not threats. Promises. She would follow through with glee.
She slumped into her desk chair and leaned her head back. Jaime wasn’t going to kill her, but something almost worse. A life sentence in a rehab facility. A euphemism for jail. Maybe she was being harsh because of the Deveroe incident. That had been frightening. And to Jaime, vampires were as horrific as demons. But dammit, she was wrong about Fernando.
“And I just found the fricking golden key.” She was blank on how to make feeding off a person touched by satanic miasma sound appealing, but it was a chance at an acceptable life. How could she walk away now when she was so close to saving him?
Saving him. I would never use such language with a normal client. She groaned. Fernando wasn’t a client. Time to admit the truth. If he were, she would give him the information and wish him well. Which option he took was his choice, and if he were a client, she’d be able to respect that.
But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t step back and let him kill himself. And more awful, die believing he was an unlovable monster unworthy of redemption.
“He doesn’t need redemption. He’s perfect.” She sat up. What am I saying? A vampire who doesn’t need redemption. Do I really believe that?
“Oh goodness. I do.” Her stomach twisted. She wouldn’t abandon Fernando, but the thought of Jaime finding out and making good on her promise…
Fernando would see reason; she’d find him a donor, and she’d have no more need to order the blood substitute. She could keep this hidden from Jaime for a little while longer. And
after the situation was resolved? She crossed her arms over her stomach as the twisting increased. Safest to end their…acquaintance.
She stood, shaking off the thought. She didn’t want to dwell on that right now. Helping Fernando was the focus. She picked up the phone to call his assistant. She needed to see him tonight.
Chapter Nine
Though she sounded unenthused to take Tegonni’s call, Ms. Preston delivered her message and called back right after dark to report Fernando would meet her at the church.
Tegonni rushed up the stairs still wearing the pantsuit she hadn’t changed out of after work. She was keeping her mind on business tonight.
She was halfway down the center aisle when she spotted him leaning against a column off to the side of the pews, his arms crossed. As she walked between rows, she took in the muscular outline of a thigh beneath his boot-cut slacks, then forced her attention to his face. Business.
His amber eyes peering at her from his gorgeous honey-brown face did not help her resolve. He didn’t move from his casual stance as she stopped in front of him.
“Good evening, Fernando.”
He inclined his head.
She hesitated at this less-than-warm greeting. What now? Then she remembered how their last meeting ended. So much had happened since Thursday that she’d forgotten he’d been angry when she walked off. “Are you still upset with me?”
“No, but the last time we met, you could not get away fast enough, and today, you must speak with me urgently. I do not know quite what to expect.”
“I’m sorry. This week has been challenging.” She pushed back a stray hair that had escaped from her French twist.
“Has something else happened?” He moved closer, suddenly alert.
“Nothing you should worry about.”
He gave her a flat stare. “But I do worry. Tell me.”
She suppressed a crazy urge to collapse into his arms and sulk. She waved her hand. “My boss found out I’ve been ordering the blood packs.”
“I don’t want you to be in trouble because of me. What will she do?”
“Nothing. She went off on me and told me not to do it again.”
“Tegonni—”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, because you will not be putting yourself at risk for me anymore. No more blood substitute.”
“Actually, that’s why I wanted to see you. I’ve found another way.” She paused, still not sure how to sell satanic-miasma-tainted food. “I think you can feed without compelling.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Really. I found out from a client that a touch of miasma blocks the narcotic effects of vampire venom. I’m sure—”
“Do you think I would feed off those touched by demons?” He studied her. “I’m surprised you would make the suggestion.”
Tegonni dropped her head. The whole idea was over the line, but… “I know it’s not ideal, but feeding on a human donor without compelling them would solve your problem.”
He pushed away from the column. “If such an option could solve my dilemma, I would choose someone touched by Heaven. Not by the darkness I wish to escape from.”
She whipped her head up. “What are you saying?”
He waved a hand. “Lephiri magic is a more effective bane to our venom than that of demons. Lightworkers who channel it are also immune.”
She gaped.
Fernando ranted on about “foolish children playing with demonic forces they didn’t understand” as she stood there, raising her clenched fists to her hips. He’d known about this the whole time and was only now mentioning it?
She stormed toward him, and stopped just inches away. “What the hell, Fernando?”
He gave her a look of confusion.
“While I’ve been agonizing over ways to help you, and you’ve been all”—she deepened her voice and affected a tone of tortured nobility—“‘I have to die, it’s the only way,’ you’ve know that wasn’t true! You lied to me.”
He looked stunned. Then guilty. “Yes. I’m sorry, but I didn’t want you wasting your time and hopes on an impractical option.”
“Impractical? We need to explore every option. I care about you! And you’re just willing to die? How do you think that makes me feel?” Tegonni’s throat tightened. She wanted to scream, rail against her uselessness. She didn’t know how to change his mind or convince him to help himself. They stared at each other for several long moments.
Fernando placed his hands on her shoulders, his touch light. “I am sorry. You know I don’t wish to cause you pain. But listen to what you’re suggesting. That I feed off a Lightworker. Even without enthrallment, that strikes me as…sacrilegious.”
She deflated a little. Part of her agreed with him. But another part was willing to jump on the technicality Matanji had offered. Enthrallment was the issue, not the feeding. “If the Lephiri are willing to accept it, I think we can. And Thursday night you said you didn’t find it abhorrent.”
His guilty expression returned. “That was an accident.”
“And all that seductive baiting after?”
“I admit I expected a much different reaction.” He dipped his mouth toward hers.
Her eyelids fluttered, and she had no thought to stop him.
His lips brushed hers. Then he released her and took a few steps away. His shoulders were rigid as he stood looking at the high ceiling.
Get it together, girl. Focus.
He turned back to her. “It is not a solution. Even without the ability to compel, feeding is not a sinless act.”
“Fernando, stop painting yourself as some sort of serial killer. If your donor is willing and you don’t take their free will, where’s the evil?”
“Naive. Free will and blood are not the only things taken when a vampire feeds. Besides, the bloodlust is nothing a truly devout man should ever allow to boil inside him.”
Bloodlust? Tensing, she banished the image of the bloodied Father Morgan from her vision. “Are you saying you’re worried about losing control?”
“For some, if they don’t feed and allow the craving for blood to get out of control…” He shook his head. “No, such an extreme case is not to what I’m referring.” He leaned forward, closing the distance between them to a bare inch. “It is the everyday pull to the sweet essence of human blood. The warm glow that heats a vampire’s soulless body, and the overpowering desire to be as close to the source as physically possible.”
She swallowed hard, and his gaze traveled from her eyes to her throat.
Her pulse picked up tempo. She remembered Caden’s comment about feeding his vampire girlfriend being like sharing souls. What would that experience be like with Fernando? She asked, “Is it sexual? Sex isn’t a sin. In the garden, you must have realized that I—”
“Yes, I know you want my bite. At least your body does. Though perhaps that is a result of my seductive magic. Do you not believe the desire is wrong? Feeding is wrong? That is the reason you ran away, is it not?”
He couldn’t really believe that. “No, Fernando, that’s not why I left. And you know my wanting you has nothing to do with vampire powers.”
He stepped closer. “Why did you run?”
“I, ah—I wasn’t…”
“The truth please.”
Her mouth worked, but the truth wouldn’t come out.
“Then let me tell you why,” he said. “You realized what I know to be true. I am evil. Admit it. Your quest to save me is hopeless.”
“Don’t tell me what I believe. I don’t believe anything about you is evil. However, my superiors aren’t so certain, and I could lose more than my position for helping you. So forgive me if the thought of building a relationship beyond that is daunting.”
And there it was. The truth she hadn’t admitted to herself. It wasn’t about the boundaries she’d crossed, or him being a vampire, or even the blood drinking. She was terrified of what Jaime would do to her if she started dating a vampire. Matanji had her back
as long as he was just a case, but even the Lephiri would have something to say about a Lightworker hooking up with hellspawn. Some tension eased from his face, and he gave a small smile. “Now that, I believe. Thank you for being honest.”
She ducked her head, wondering how to redirect the conversation.
“Unfortunately, you are wrong about the feeding. Even without compelling—”
“My dad’s houngan—priest—sacrifices animals.” Her bizarre interjection worked.
Fernando watched her, brows creased.
She continued in a neutral voice. “He blesses them, dedicates their life forces to the deity he’s working with, then slits their throats. The blood is collected in a bowl and sometimes drunk by those possessed by the loa, the deities.”
He flinched and looked at her with an expression caught between disgust and confusion.
Good. She wanted him to disapprove. Her point would be all the clearer. “Many people feel the same way, but the Lephiri don’t. They know the houngan slaughters the animals humanely and with respect, with reverence even, before preparing them for community meals, which are often shared with the poor. A scenario no worse than any person walking into a store and buying meat. It’s a different viewpoint, but still valid.”
Confusion won out on his face. “I believed they used the life force for their own ends. I didn’t know they ate the animals. The intent makes a difference.”
“Yes.” She leaned toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “And your intent when you feed… It makes all the difference.”
He looked down at her, his breath feathering over her cheek. She hadn’t realized she’d moved so close. Only an inch or two away. I’m such a hypocrite. She’d just told him why she couldn’t get involved, and here she was again in his arms. She couldn’t find the willpower to move away.
She held his arm over the creamy silk. Her fingers twitched with her desire to stroke the expanse of honey skin bared by the unbuttoned top of his shirt. She licked her bottom lip, and his gaze zeroed in on the movement. He lowered his hands down to her waist. His head dipped closer, and her breath caught. He stopped and pulled away again, though he now had a sparkle of hope in his eyes. A weight lifted off her shoulders.
Counselor of the Damned Page 9
