“Eleanor has quite the collection in the attic. I never thought I would be so glad to have found musty old trunks,” Hadrian said with relief. “She has armor fit for a queen, weapons, uniforms, keepsakes, and pictures.”
“Pictures? What kind of pictures?” Brandon’s agitation vanished, replaced with curiosity.
Eleanor never struck him as a sentimental person. He always thought of her as an honor-bound soldier more interested in duty and service than a real person. She literally dropped Sabrina off on his doorstep as a last resort and hunted down Sabrina’s attackers one by one. It wasn’t enough to vanquish the enemy. Eleanor severed their heads and came back coated in the blood of her foes. Nothing about Eleanor invoked images of a sentimental person.
“You have to see them to appreciate them. I’ll bring the trunks down to the living room. The space is too small for the both of us and to have the trunks open,” Hadrian said, getting out of his rocker carefully and going into the house.
Brandon paused for a moment and listened to the quiet night. Tree frogs sang as insects chirped. The breeze blew across the moonlit meadow, allowing the tall grasses to brush against themselves and rustle. Leaves flicked against one another.
A sense of peace and tranquility settled over him. He understood why Eleanor chose to settle in the Platt Balsam Mountains just below the Blue Ridge. Nearly one hundred years ago, this farmstead would have been miles away from the nearest living soul, supernatural or human. It made the perfect place to hide Sabrina from the world, and he felt a new appreciation for Eleanor.
She only ever wanted Sabrina’s safety and happiness. She said as much in the end, almost like a real mother.
A ring of flames sprang up at the end of the front porch steps.
Brandon immediately went on guard and took a defensive posture. Ready to spring at the first sign of movement, he trained his eyes on the center of the flaming ring. The smell of brimstone and smoldering flesh mingled with the newly scorched grass, burning his nose.
A female figure formed in the center of the flames and immediately placed her hands on her curvy hips. The smoke thinned and cleared with the breeze. A displeased demoness stood staring up at Brandon, her dark lips turned down in a sharp frown. Her large breasts heaved under a black leather vest. Her sharp, dark, sea-green nails rhythmically tapped against her black leather pants. Black, thigh-high stiletto boots dug holes in the ground as she shifted her weight.
“What in the name of Hell has been going on up here?” Delilah asked. She threw her hands up in the air. “I barely have time to leave and all Hell breaks loose. Did you know we can hear Sabrina sobbing all the way down to the ninth level?”
Brandon came out of his pose instantly.
“Sabrina’s crying?” A sinking feeling filled his chest at the thought of how much pain she must be in and having to face alone. The feeling worsened when he realized the cause.
“Yes, you idiot. Don’t think the gossip mill hasn’t blamed you,” she said sharply.
Hadrian came out on the porch. “Good evening, Delilah. I thought I smelled smoke. Won’t you come in? We have a little catching up to do,” he said politely. He stepped back and held the door open for her.
“I think I should. I need to know what happened and then find Sabrina before she floods the entire fifth level. The muddy swamps are more like swimming pools, as it is,” Delilah said, stepping on the bottom stair. She froze.
“I smell celestial magic here,” she said, pointing to the place where Venus ran her fingers along the barrier.
“Can you tell who it is?” Hadrian asked calmly.
She sniffed again and moved her fingers through the air. Licking her fingertips, her eyes widened. “It’s been a very long time, but I’d know that overly perfumed scent anywhere,” she said with an edge of hostility.
The suspense drove Brandon crazy. Why can demons not just say what they need to say? He gave an impatient snort.
“Keep your shirt on, lover boy. It’s Venus. She seemed to have made a courtesy call. I heard she was free. Don’t worry. She’s not your primary concern,” Delilah told him and came up the stairs.
The three of them went into the living room. Two large steamer trunks and one smaller travel case sat in the middle of the living room floor. The trunk tops were open, exposing a collection from ages past, one full of objects, the other full of pictures and postcards. The travel case sat with the top unclasped with a pile of coins and gemstones gleaming in the overhead light.
“Holy cow! Jackpot!” Delilah cried. Her frown turned to a wide smile, showing all her sharp, pointed teeth. Greed filled her eyes. “Look at all that gold!” She ran one hand through the case’s contents, letting a Tahitian pearl necklace slip between her fingers.
“Look at Sabrina’s gold,” Hadrian corrected her with a stern look.
Delilah pulled her hand back suddenly as he snapped the case shut. “Yes, well, of course,” she said a little breathlessly. She cleared her throat. “Back to the business at hand.”
Brandon noticed Delilah’s usual pale, seafoam-green skin darkened over her cheeks and across her chest. Her breasts heaved as she breathed heavily. Was this what she looked like aroused? A shiver ran along his spine.
“We need to help Sabrina,” Brandon reminded everyone. Mentioning her name seemed to have the desired effect. Both Hadrian and Delilah glanced at him and then found a seat.
Hadrian gave Delilah as much information as he had and then gestured to Brandon to fill in the rest. Then, the two vampires explained their plan to help Sabrina learn the rules of fighting. They sat quietly as she mulled things over when they finished.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong about Nemesis challenging Sabrina, but I am curious as to why. I mean attacking Brandon, okay. Jealousy isn’t her thing, but you did cheat a death she arranged. Going after Sabrina, however, I don’t understand. Nemesis is all about divine retribution and balance of fortune. How did she get a bee in her bonnet about Sabrina?” The demoness looked over her should out of the window and appeared to get lost in thought.
Brandon’s mind swirled. “Wait a minute. Nemesis arranged my death. I did just hear you say she arranged my human death. In all this time, you’ve never mentioned this,” he said, somewhat taken aback at the news.
“I thought you knew. I assumed you wanted to be turned as a way of not letting her win,” Delilah said with a shocked expression. “Was I wrong?”
Hadrian cleared his throat. “I arranged his transformation. I felt responsible for him and only found out about Nemesis years afterward. When I faked my death and went into hiding with Aradia, I took Brandon with me as a personal servant of sorts. I’m not surprised Nemesis failed to notice his absence,” he replied.
“Well, well. The plot thickens. Do tell more,” she said, snapping her attention to Brandon. Her sharp, white teeth gleamed from between her dark lips.
“She was there the day my human life ended. Instead of helping me, she held me back. I felt her hand on my wrist slow down my stroke. She tugged at my helmet to narrow my vision. My opponent caught me with an upper jab, piercing my left lung. I hit the ground and watched her sad face fade into the darkness,” Brandon recounted. He could almost feel the blade slide beneath his ribs. Without thinking, he raised his hand to spot and rubbed, as if rubbing made the memory go away sooner.
“When they carried him out of the arena, I rushed to his side. Well, you remember the rest,” Hadrian said to Delilah, who nodded in agreement.
“And that, boys and girls, is that,” she said, finishing the story. “It seems Nemesis isn’t fond of your wife, Brandon. I can’t imagine she came up with her target all on her own, given she’s been back for such a short period of time. My guess is another celestial being. If Sabrina knows anything else, we need her to tell us.” She went back to looking out of the window in thought.
Brandon glanced down in the trunk closest to him. Quivers full of arrows and a small, delicate bow lay on top of an ornate sheath. The sho
rt sword’s handle bore familiar markings. He reached into the pile and picked it up gently.
Hadrian gasped. “Carefully hand that to me, my boy,” he said quickly, holding out both hands.
Brandon laid the weapon in Hadrian’s palms. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong with it?” If there had been magic about the object, his vampire senses would have told him, but it felt like any other short sword.
Delilah stood and tilted her head like a curious bird. As if she were taking hold of a bomb, she coaxed it from Hadrian’s fingers. Her eyes widened and cut to Hadrian, and then to Brandon. “Where did you get it?”
“It was in one of Eleanor’s trunks. Why?” Brandon replied. The way she scrutinized the thing made him nervous. Given her reaction, Brandon wondered if Eleanor left behind some magical protections or curses he needed to know about.
“We need to find Sabrina, and I mean now,” Delilah said, her voice full of worry. She laid the sword back in the box.
“What does a gladius in an old trunk have to do with Sabrina?” Brandon asked. Guilt filled him. How could he let her leave all alone with Nemesis plotting against her? And now? Somehow he managed to let another danger get past him unseen. What sort of protector was he?
“See the markings on the hilt? This is the sword of Mars, Eleanor’s personal mentor. Her mother is a great huntress in her own right, but Eleanor apprenticed with Mars. He’s bound to know how to track anything that once belonged to him. If he knows Eleanor’s dead, he might come looking for his things. Finding this place means finding Sabrina. I don’t want to know what the god of war would be able to do with such a wild magical blend,” Delilah said. Putting the gladius down, she added, “You’re lucky she didn’t stab you with this one, Brandon. There’s no getting over what this thing can do.” She bit at her bottom lip, piercing it slightly with her razor-sharp teeth. A bead of shimmering metallic green blood welled up on her dark lip.
The odor of rotten meat and sulfur hit Brandon’s nose instantly. The smell of her demonic blood made Brandon feel sick. Yet, there was something familiar about the aroma. He tried to place scent, but only conjured up fuzzy memories.
A sharp punch to the shoulder brought him out of his recollections. Hadrian stared at him with a sour expression. “I asked you a question. Where would she go if she were upset?”
“The creek. Down by the creek. She told me stories about going down there as a child to play and get away from Eleanor’s lessons. If I had to guess, I say we should try going there first,” Brandon replied.
Delilah laughed. “Of course, where else would a lovelorn fairy take his heart’s desire?”
Brandon glanced at Hadrian in confusion. He failed to see how those two things went together or how they were relevant to the situation. When Hadrian shrugged and looked to Delilah, Brandon did the same. “Could you explain that?”
“Silly boy. Before you came along, poor Clay Birch, fairy orphan extraordinaire, was Sabrina’s guardian. Just because he died protecting her doesn’t mean his memory is gone. Where would a wood fairy go to make his heart’s desire feel better?” She paused, running a hand over her hair as if to smooth the coarse brown strands.
“Wood fairies are attached to running water,” Hadrian replied.
“And who else trapped someone down by the water’s edge?”
“Nemesis and Narcissus. Oh hell,” Brandon muttered. He stormed out of the house and jumped off the front porch. He ran as fast as he could in the direction of the creek.
Please, Sabrina, please be there.
Chapter 13
Sabrina watched her rippled reflection and remembered the hours she spent along the creek banks with Clay, her best friend. The edges were always shallow enough to wade knee-deep, but the middle of the waterway allowed for swimming. Low-hanging tree branches worked for hanging ropes over the water to use as swings. If she thought about him, she could still hear him laugh as he pushed her out over the water on hot, summer afternoons. The summer’s heat radiated from the creek banks, making the memory more intense. Blood-tinged tears dripped into the water, ruining the moon-silvered ripples.
“Now there’s a sight I don’t get to see every day,” a female voice said from somewhere nearby.
Sabrina jerked her head up to see who spoke. Nothing but the lonely trees and wetland flowers stared back. She heard a giggle but still didn’t see who made the noise.
“Show yourself,” Sabrina demanded. She pulled herself up into a low crouch. Her lioness approved. It gave her the mobility to spring forward on her intruder, should she be attacked.
Salem materialized only a few feet away. Shadows seemed to drain away from her like a cloak slipping from her shoulders. She stepped a little closer. The shadows and moonlight filtering through the canopy made her tattoos seem almost alive.
“You know, if you don’t keep your guard up, someone’s going to get you some day,” the young half demoness said. Her spiked magenta hair lay flat against her head as if she just took off a hat. She wore cutoff jeans that allowed the white pocket material to hang below the edge of the legs. Her black halter top barely covered her breasts. She stood barefoot at the edge of the creek.
“Is there something wrong at the store?” Sabrina asked, hoping to draw attention away from her tears. Mentally, she cursed herself for not covering her magical tracks. It was the only way she knew of for Salem to have found her.
“The store’s fine, as far as I know. However, there is something wrong,” she said sharply.
“It’s not Brandon is it? Are he and Dad okay?” Wild thoughts of Nemesis and the men in black SUVs bringing them to harm ran rampant through her mind. She nearly panicked.
“Who gives a shit about them?” Salem said with disgust. “He came to see you, didn’t he?”
Sabrina wondered if Salem meant her brother. “I haven’t seen Winston since last night, and I thought we got along so well. Why are you giving me flak?” she replied.
“I’m not talking about my idiot brother. Brandon may have bought my services from my mother, but I don’t take kindly to anybody, including you, moving in on my territory. I’m talking about him,” she said tersely. She put both hands on her hips and clicked her tongue in a tsking noise.
“I know a lot of people that describes. I’m going to need a little more to go on than that,” Sabrina said, getting annoyed with Salem’s attitude. She thought for a moment about how the other two might react if she fired Salem on the spot.
“Oh, nobody, really. Tall. Good looks. Square jaw. Broad shoulder and abs that are better than a six-pack. Has a thing for Armani suits. You know, Mars. He’s mine, and you had better keep your hands off of him, if you know what’s good for you,” Salem said, her blue eyes flaring to a deep shade of crimson. The odor of burning brimstone filled the air.
Sabrina stayed crouched and ready to pounce. Her lioness snarled. A jealous woman convinced someone else eyed her prize was dangerous enough. A jealous demoness seriously upped the stakes.
“He didn’t tell me his name, and he certainly didn’t mention you. I don’t know what interest I am to someone like him, but I’m certainly not chasing after him. You want him? He’s all yours,” Sabrina said allowing a thread of defiance to leak into her voice.
Salem smirked. Her bright-red lipstick made her lips look as though she had been sucking blood. She gave a snort in disbelief.
“I’ll bet he didn’t, the bastard. Nonetheless, he’s mine. He promised I’d be next, and I’m damn sure not going to stand back and let some magical misfit take my place. This is my one chance to get the hell out of Hell and finally get to choose my own name and my own life,” she said with venom.
Limbs snapped from deeper in the forest. The sound of someone running toward her sent her elevated senses into hyper mode. Her necklace flashed, filling the surrounding area with a blinding light.
“Sabrina! Sabrina, it’s me!” Brandon shouted. His footfalls stopped.
She did her best to tone down the magic and fi
nd him in the trees. When the light receded back into the pendant, she found him on the ground shielding his eyes. She glanced around to see where Salem went, but found the half demon gone.
“Did you see Salem leave?” Sabrina asked, wanting to make sure they were alone.
“See? I can’t see anything. You’ve practically burned out my retinas,” he complained. He took his hand away from his eyes and blinked several times. “Damn, honey, I know you’re angry with me, but I don’t think you needed to project quite so much.”
She noticed his bloodshot eyes and pinpoint pupils. The pendant almost incapacitated him with a single flash. Sniffing the air, she hunted for the scent of brimstone but did not find it. Her stance eased once she felt certain Salem had left.
Sabrina watched him roll over to his hands and knees before steadying himself to stand. She paid attention to his muscles beneath his clothes and how gracefully he moved. For a moment, she forgot her anger.
He knocked the dust and forest debris from his jeans and tee. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked hard a few times and made glanced around. “I don’t see anybody else, thank the stars. We didn’t want you to get ambushed out here alone,” he said and reached out to take her hand.
She pulled back. “I was, in a way. Salem appeared out of the shadows and warned me off of Mars like a jealous girlfriend. Can we fire her? You didn’t sell your soul or anything to hire them, did you?”
“Yes and no. Yes, to firing her, if you want, and no, to selling my soul. I did offer all three of them souls, just not mine,” Brandon replied.
Sabrina’s mouth gaped open. She tried to speak, but the shock of his revelation prevented her from making words. Eventually, she managed to whisper, “Whose souls?”
Brandon replied, “People who owe us money or any criminals we catch wanted by the law. They have a little accident, and their souls go straight to hell. The taxpayers save money. The demons meet their quotas, and we all go home happy,” He made it sound as if this was common knowledge.
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