Blood Curse: Book 2 of the Blood War Chronicles

by Quincy Allen

  “She seemed to think sorcery was better suited to me, so she gave me this and said a person had to learn the language, first. Once I’ve done that, I can learn to tap into wherever it is aether comes from. Directly. And the stronger and smarter a person is, the more they can tap into … and pull out.” Her eyes finally focused back on Jake. “And it’s all like exercise, but your brain becomes the muscle, getting stronger and stronger the more you do it. It can take a lifetime, though.”

  He shook his head, marveling at what she’d just rattled off like it was a how-do-you-do. “So,” he replied with a smile, “the short answer is yes.” Jake considered the possibilities. Skeeter was the smartest person he knew, and she was even more willful than Lumpy when she got a head of steam behind her. If smarts and will were the keys, and all she had to do was learn the language, she was going to be hell on wheels when it came to witchcraft, or sorcery, or whatever.

  “I guess so,” Skeeter said and chuckled.

  “Is that what you came here to tell me? That you’re planning on wrapping that head of yours around magic?”

  “No sir,” she said without skipping a beat.

  “Then what’s on your mind?”

  Skeeter stared at him. She looked worried and curious and serious all at once. She took a deep breath and said, “Do you tell us everything? Me and Cole?”

  Jake got a surprised look on his face. He certainly wasn’t expecting something like that. He leaned against the wall, almost pinned there by her question, and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Well, I guess the short answer is no.” He hmphed once and looked out the window, thinking about keeping Corina’s secret from them. There had been a couple of other things like that since he’d met Cole and Skeeter, not many, and there was always a good reason for it at the time.

  “A better answer is that I don’t tell you everything the second I find out. In my … our line of work,” he corrected, “some things can get folks in trouble or even put their lives at risk. Sometimes there just isn’t time during the shooting or the running or the bleeding to come clean. But I can honestly say I’ve told you everything whenever it was time to say it.”

  “So it’s a judgment call?” she asked. She was fishing for something, Jake had no doubt. And the only conclusion was that she had something in her head and she didn’t know if she should keep it there or not.

  Jake considered the possibilities. In his position, did he expect her to tell him everything because she was his ward? Or had he really meant it when he told her she was a part of the team on equal footing with him and Cole?

  “You know, if Cole asked me that very same question, the only answer would be yes, it’s a judgment call. And because of that, it’s the same answer I have to give you.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “If you have a secret to keep, and you have good reasons for keeping it from me and Cole, then I gotta trust you to do what you think is best for all of us. Right?”

  She nodded.

  “That also means you take the heat if you get it wrong. Right?” he added.

  She didn’t hesitate when she said, “Yessir. That’s exactly what’s on my mind.”

  “Well, Skeeter, the fact that you’re asking about it shows you’re a heap smarter—and wiser—than most adults I’ve known. And all I can tell you is that, no matter what, someday you’ll get it wrong … and it’ll sting when you do. But that can’t keep you from doing what you think is best for you and your riding partners. Ever.” He stood up. “Does that answer your question good enough?”

  She looked relieved, but also as if there was a new weight upon her shoulders. Jake figured that was exactly the right way to feel under the circumstances.

  “Yeah, Jake. It does.” She stood up and slipped the book under her arm. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m gonna go take a look at this thing, if it’s alright with you.”

  “You bet, kiddo.” He opened the door for her, and she slipped out, heading down the hall for her own room. She made it halfway and then turned. “Oh, hey!” she said, looking back at him. “I almost forgot. Forsythe said he wanted to take us on a tour of the shield-works, you know, the thing that’s covering this place. He wasn’t sure if he could get us in, but he’d sent a request along.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Yeah. He said we wouldn’t be able to get into some of the restricted areas, but there’s plenty for us to see. He offered to close down and take us there tomorrow around 9 AM if his request is approved. You interested?”

  “Hell yes,” Jake replied. “Probably not as much as you, but I’d love to see something like that.”

  “See you in the morning, then, Jake,” she added, and then headed down the hall again, opening the book as she went.

  “Go get it, kid,” he said under his breath. Jake always marveled at her ability to consume information like locusts chew up crops.

  He closed the door and stepped up to the wardrobe, prepared to put on his same clothes in order to go get some food in his belly and maybe a shot or two of whiskey down his throat.

  With a sigh, he opened the doors. His mouth dropped open. Instead of his tattered, bloody riding clothes, he discovered a fine green frock, dark pants, and a paisley vest of deep burgundy, just like his original, hanging there. Someone had also draped an emerald cravat over the coat, and tucked into a coat pocket he spotted a small placard decorated with fine handwriting.

  Grabbing the card, he read a very simple message that sent fire running through his body.

  Dinner and dancing?

  ~ C ~

  “Well who am I to refuse such an invitation?” was all he said, and then he dressed himself in perfect-fitting finery.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A Stirring of Hearts

  “Intoxicating. That was the only word to describe what I felt for Lady Corina Dănești.”

  ~ Jake Lasater

  As Jake made his way down to the main floor of the White Mare, music drifted up the stairs, layered over sounds of people eating, drinking, and dancing. The melody clearly had its roots in the Irish jigs and reels he’d heard across the country, but the instruments were far from traditional and reminded him of something else entirely.

  As he turned the last corner of the staircase, the band came into view. He recognized them instantly. Once again, it was the three shining automatons standing in the far corner. They looked different both from the three he’d seen in Denver and those in San Francisco, but there was no doubt they’d come from the same manufacturer.

  “Jesus, those things are everywhere,” he muttered.

  His breath caught in his chest when he spotted her.

  There was no missing the emerald dress or the river of white hair cascading down her neck like an ivory waterfall over alabaster stone. By the bar, a tall thin glass in her hand, Corina stood amidst three gentlemen in the Roswell version of mannish finery. Forsythe stood behind the bar, a bottle in his hand and his eyes fixed upon the fine lady.

  The men around her seemed to hang on every word as she spoke. Then her head turned a fraction of an inch in Jake’s direction. Although her eyes were again hidden by dark glasses, the soft smile that curled her lips warmed his heart. All he could think was that her smile was for him alone, and it played upon his heart like it was a violin and she a virtuoso.

  Her gaze never left him as he approached.

  “Gentlemen,” she said with soft warmth, “allow me to introduce my escort, Mister Jake Lasater.”

  The three men turned with openly disappointed faces, and the stunned look Forsythe wore as Jake stepped up prompted Jake to wink at him with an almost shameful pride.

  “Lady Dănești,” Jake said with a bow. He held out his hand, and she took it easily, as if it belonged there. Her touch was cool, but it still filled him with fire. He gently kissed the back of her hand and then released it, regretting the loss of her touch. “I see you had little difficulty making friends.”

  “Indeed,” she said with a brighter smile. “These fine gentlemen were kind enough
to listen to a tale of doomed spirits in the Far East.”

  “Indeed,” one of the gentlemen chimed in. “She told it as if it had really happened.”

  “A mesmerizing tale, to be sure,” another added.

  “I’m delighted that you enjoyed such an imagined fiction,” Corina replied, but the wink she gave Jake made him think there was probably more truth than fiction in whatever she’d told them.

  “Well then, that makes what I’m about to do all the more difficult,” Jake said. “But the Lady and I have a dinner engagement that simply cannot wait.” Jake’s smile was genuine. “If the Lady has no objections, that is.”

  “None at all, Mister Lasater,” she purred. “If you gentlemen will excuse me.” She held out her hand, which Jake took with a desire that surprised him, and she gracefully slid between two of the gentlemen and slipped her arm through Jake’s.

  “Forsythe, we’ll be taking a table,” Jake said, looking at his friend.

  A grin split Forsythe’s face. “Might I recommend that booth over yonder.” He nodded across the lightly populated dance floor to where the two men had spent the afternoon sharing memories. “It’s a bit quieter and certainly more out of the way.”

  “Much obliged,” Jake said with a nod and a rather meaty grin. The look on Forsythe’s face said only one thing—How the hell did you manage this one, Jake?

  Jake and Corina headed in that direction, arm in arm.

  “A very timely rescue,” she whispered in his ear. Her breath tingled against his skin.

  “I’ll always come for you,” he replied. The words surprised him, but they felt as natural as his own skin. What’s happening to me? The thought echoed in his mind. He remembered Cole’s accusation of him going gaga over the Lady. What Cole didn’t know is that gaga didn’t even come close to the feelings Corina stirred within him.

  “That’s a bold promise, Jake,” she said

  He stopped at the edge of the dance floor as the automaton trio wound down on an Irish reel. “I don’t say such things lightly, but oh, what you do to me.” As if on cue, the band started up with a slow waltz. “May I have the pleasure of a dance?” Jake added, motioning towards the floor.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she replied. They glided onto the dance floor and he took her in his arms as the music flowed through them. She was as light as a feather, moving like a wisp of smoke as they spun together.

  The other dancers disappeared. The White Mare disappeared. The whole of Roswell evaporated into a pale veil of music and light wherein Jake and Corina became the center of the universe. Her delicate features filled his sight like a sun nestled in the rosy-gray of a newborn dawn. And in that moment, if the world were burning around him, Jake wouldn’t care so long as she was in his arms.

  Time stopped. Jake couldn’t recollect when he’d been so lost in a woman. He lost count of the songs as they moved from waltz to jig to reel and back again. Corina seemed equally lost. They spun and stomped and laughed, forgetting the troubles of their lives in the doing.

  It took a fiercely rumbling stomach for Jake to finally realize he hadn’t eaten since the meager trail rations at breakfast.

  The band drifted into a nocturne by Chopin that Jake recognized, presumably to give the dancers a break. The other dancers and the tavern beyond came back into focus as Jake led them to the edge of the dance floor.

  “My heart tells me I could dance with you for the rest of my life. But if I don’t take you up on that offer of dinner, I believe I might just collapse at your feet.”

  Her gentle laughter was a song in his ears. “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” she said and took his hand. “I took the liberty of giving your friend Mister Forsythe our order, although he didn’t know it was you until you came down. I hope that’s acceptable. I mean, you strike me as a man who enjoys steak.”

  Jake smiled. “Indeed I do.”

  Corina turned and nodded to Forsythe, who still stood behind the bar. He leaned over and whispered something to a young woman at his side who was in the process of pouring several beers. She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Before I forget, I wanted to thank you,” Jake said.

  “Thank me?” Corina raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

  “Well, quite a few things actually.” He chuckled. “My life, the illusion over the wagon, the clothes,” he tugged at a lapel and smiled at her. “But most of all, for talking to Skeeter and giving her that book.”

  “The primer?” she asked. Jake nodded, and Corina returned a warm smile. “She’s a remarkable young woman,” she added.

  “Yeah. I hear that more often than not.” He rubbed his jaw. “I ain’t never met anyone like her. I figure that by the time she’s done with me and Cole and people like Qi and you, she’s gonna be a force to reckon with.”

  “I have no doubt,” Corina said with a nod. “I must admit, as I spoke about the principles of magic, she took to it like a bird to flight.”

  A twinge of worry crept into Jake’s thoughts. “I gotta ask. Can she get into any trouble with that thing? The primer, I mean. Could she hurt herself by learning what’s in it?”

  Corina smiled and shook her head. “No. It’s more like a dictionary, a means of translating one spoken language—Wallachian in this case—into another language whose thought can draw upon certain energies. But knowing the words doesn’t allow an individual to place them into any meaningful sequence. It’s the sequence and the intention beneath the thought that can resonate with the universe.”

  “Unh-hunh …” Jake nodded with a chuckle. “I’m not gonna pretend I actually understand what that means, but I’m willing to take your word for it.”

  “That pleases me,” she said. “I know you don’t trust easily, and I think Skeeter and your rather mercurial endeavors could benefit heavily from a bit of spellcraft. In fact, it already has, as well you know,” she added.

  “Lack of trust is an occupational hazard, I’m afraid.” Hearing those words made him consider his trust for Corina. He did trust her, and when it came right down to it, he didn’t have much reason to. Technically, she was just another escort job, another payday when the deal was done. He looked deep inside himself, examining the feelings he felt for her, feelings he knew damn well had cropped up in an instant and without any warning. They were intense, no doubt about it, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they were real or the result of magic. Was it infatuation? Lust? Love? A distant voice inside said it was a combination of all three cradled in something else entirely … an emotion he couldn’t name.

  Cole’s warnings were never far from his thoughts where Corina was concerned, and as he thought about it all, a question floated up out of the warmth that filled him when he was around her. “Trusting you … well, that’s something that’s been on my mind for a while now.” He stared at her with curious intent, but not any sort of accusation. “Am I under your spell? I mean, what I feel for you doesn’t make any sense.”

  The surprised look on her face meant he’d caught her off guard, but her easy smile proved she didn’t resent it. She took his hand and squeezed. “I didn’t know it needed to.”

  “I reckon it doesn’t,” Jake said, feeling a bit embarrassed, “but you know what I mean.”

  “I do, Jake,” she replied with another squeeze of his hand. “And I suppose it all depends upon how you look at it.” She stared into his eyes and grew serious. “I won’t deny there are methods in both witchcraft and sorcery that can create all manner of emotion in a person, including all manner of affection.” Her eyes drifted from his face as she tried to find the right words. “Let me ask you a question.” Her eyes locked with his. “Do your feelings, whatever they are, change when I’m near or far?”

  He thought about it. There was no question that being around her sparked a fire within him. Just the sight of her fanned the flames. But the underlying emotions? The affection and desire? Those had been stirring within him from the first moment he saw her.

  “N
o.” he replied simply. “It’s been like this from the time I first laid eyes on you. But I’ve never felt anything like this before.” He considered telling her about Cole’s warning, but his conversation with Skeeter echoed in his thoughts. There wasn’t any real reason to talk about it. Either Cole was right or he wasn’t, and Jake would have to figure that out on his own.

  “Well, that can be a telltale sign of magics, although not always. There are other ways, of course. Some beings have the ability to instill all manner of devotion in other creatures, but even those are usually governed by close, physical proximity.”

  “For what it’s worth, I haven’t felt feelings like this for a very long time.” She took his other hand. “Perhaps we’re both under a spell, but not one of magic so much as …” she seemed to consider the next word and then reject it. She smiled and then finished with, “Circumstance.”

  Jake took a breath to reply when the barmaid appeared and slid plates in front of the both. “One rib-eye, medium rare, and liver with mushrooms, extra rare,” she said. “What can I get y’all to drink?”

  Corina’s meal looked barely cooked. “Ummm …” He glanced at Corina with questioning eyes.

  She smiled with a wink. Turning to the barmaid, she said, “I’d like red wine, if you have any.… The darker the better,” she added, but Jake’s eyes never left her plate. “Jake?” she finally asked, distracting him from the bloody slab on her plate.

  “Errr … I guess I’ll have beer … Captain Plat, if you have any. Whatever, if you don’t.”

  “Captain Plat it is,” she said. “Forsythe always keeps a couple cases on hand.”

  “Does he really?” It made sense. Forsythe had been around the family long enough to develop a taste for the family label … when it was the family label, anyway.

  “Yep!” she said, and with a swish of her skirts, headed back to the bar.

  “That’s quite an appetite you have there,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Ain’t never seen anyone eat liver like that.”

  A very distant mix of emotions drifted across her features, and he couldn’t tell if she was homesick or sad or regretful. Maybe it was something else, but the subject clearly stirred up strong memories.