Green-Eyed Demon (Sabina Kane #3)

by Jaye Wells

  Rhea stepped up to stand over Brooks’s head. “We’re going to invoke a cone of power. If you’re ever alone you can do this by yourself, but we’re going to combine our energies for more potency.”

  Adam closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the sage-scented air. His hands rose, and his left hand grasped my right. Rhea took my left and joined her left with Adam’s right. Together we formed a triangle inside the circle, which I remembered from my lessons lent even more power to the circle.

  “Now,” Rhea whispered, “do you remember how I taught you to call on your powers?”

  I did, of course, but I had a question. “Yeah, but aren’t my talents the exact opposite of what we need here?”

  Frown lines formed on her forehead. “What do you mean?”

  “Chthonic powers are mostly about death and destruction.”

  Adam’s eyes popped open. I felt his gaze on me even as I continued to look at his aunt for explanation.

  She shook her head emphatically. “On the contrary, my dear. Your Chthonic powers also give you an immense capacity for healing.”

  “But how do I access that? Before I had to tap into the pit of rage inside me to use them.”

  She smiled. “For healing, you tap into the deep well of love you try to keep hidden.”

  I shifted on my feet, suddenly uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. Adam’s hand tightened on mine. I cleared my throat. “Okay.”

  “You ready?” Rhea asked.

  “No.”

  They knew I was lying, so they closed their eyes. I followed suit and tried to locate a part of myself I barely knew. I spent so much of my life denying that I had any emotions at all. Then I’d allowed myself to be fueled only by red-hot anger and a need for revenge. But now I searched the far corners of myself for anything resembling what I assumed love might look like.

  Rhea began to speak in a low tone. The words were in Hekatian—the ancient magical language used in spell work and rituals by mages. Despite my limited knowledge of the language, I somehow understood their meaning. “Goddess Hekate, Mother of Magic and Night Queen, raise your torch, that your light may illuminate the path toward healing. Goddess Diana, Moon Maiden and Mother of the fae open our vision and protect your humble servant so he may live to carry out your will.”

  Inside, I pushed below the black cloud of anger, vengeance, and fear hovering in my midsection. Farther down, I found a deep pool. With a trembling touch, I brushed the surface, causing a ripple. When the waters calmed again, I recognized faces just below the surface. Adam and Rhea were there, but so were Giguhl and Vinca. Brooks, too.

  Something shifted and the waters rose up over me like a tide. Instead of the fiery power I called upon to destroy, this surge swelled gently. Warm instead of hot. The emotions here were deep purple instead of angry red. My chest filled—diaphragm swelling and ribs expanding. Pushed outward and up. Through my limbs and into my fingers. Rose in my throat like a primal call.

  My eyes flew open as the power surged from me. My skin tingled where it touched Adam and Rhea. Their eyes were open, too, and glowing with their own energies. Our powers met and mingled, rising up in a swirling vortex of color shot through with sparks of light.

  Rhea’s voice sounded far away, echoed. “We three unite to pour healing into this broken vessel. We three unite to absorb his pain. We three—”

  Adam caught on first, his deep voice joining in. “… to pour healing into this broken vessel. We three—”

  My own voice picked up the chant. “… unite to absorb his pain.”

  The cone of power at the center of our triangle condensed and began to stream into Brooks’s body. His shoulders lifted from the table as his body rose to receive the healing energy. At the same time, a second ribbon of energy—darker, thicker, and tinged greenish-black—rose from him and split into three streams.

  Now I finally understand why Rhea needed Adam and me to assist. I only received one-third of the negative energy, but it was so intense my teeth gritted and cold sweat covered my skin. My stomach roiled with nausea as the borrowed pain tried to dig its claws into me. Breathing deeply through my nose, I struggling to balance the two opposing flows of energy.

  Adam’s pupils were now full black. Rhea’s hand tightened on mine. I expanded my focus until I could see all of us through my third eye. Three sets of hands joined in common purpose. Three pairs of lips chanting the same invocation. Dark and light energy flowed through us, around us, between us. Until finally, a single clean stream of energy ran through Brooks. Then three streams of power rushed back into their sources and were absorbed. But only one mage collapsed to the ground.

  20

  My head pounded like hellfire. My limbs felt weighed down with lead. I opened my eyes and immediately regretted the decision. The room spun like a drunken dervish. I slammed my lids shut again until my stomach quieted its protests. Breathing through my nose, I chanced another peek. The world had stilled while my eyes were closed. Even better, Adam’s face came into focus above me. Dark smudges under his eyes and worry lines aged his handsome face. “Welcome back.”

  “Hi,” I croaked.

  His lips spread into a slow, relieved smile. “Hi.”

  I swallowed again to wet my dry throat. “What happened?” Now that the world had stilled, I realized we were on the living room couch. My head rested on Adam’s lap and his hand stroked my hair, helping restore my equilibrium.

  “You passed out.” His finger brushed a spot on my forehead, making me flinch. “Hit the table on your way down.”

  That certainly explained the headache. I jerked as memory of the healing ritual returned. “Brooks?”

  I struggled to sit up, but Adam pushed me back down with a firm hand. “Is sleeping. But you need to take it easy. Your body needs time to recover.”

  “Why are you fine? You did the ritual, too.”

  “Actually, you and Rhea did most of the heavy lifting energy-wise. Besides, she and I have more experience controlling the power surges. In time you’ll learn how to harness it without sapping your strength.”

  That made sense, but I didn’t like lying there like an infant. “Well, I’m fine now.”

  The look he gave me would have withered lesser women. “You’re fine when I say you are. In the meantime, it’s rest for you. Doctor’s orders.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to play doctor with me, mancy?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Absolutely.”

  “Bael’s balls,” a grumpy voice said from somewhere nearby. “Will you two get a room already?”

  I lifted my head and found a grinning Giguhl sitting in a floral armchair. “Hey, G.”

  “Hey yourself. I’d ask how you’re feeling, but I know your stubborn self will just lie.”

  I grinned at the demon. “You’re probably right.”

  “But if you ever scare me like that again, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  I laughed. “Even unconscious, I could still take you, demon.”

  Giguhl’s black lips spread into a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, Red.”

  “That makes two of us,” Adam said.

  Warmth in my midsection burned away the lingering fog. I laughed uneasily. “Jeez, you guys make it sound like I was on the brink of death or something. I just fainted.”

  Adam shot me a fierce frown. Obviously my flippant attitude toward their concern hadn’t gone over well with either male. “Sorry. But I’m good.” Two dubious glares greeted my declaration. “Really.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Giguhl said. “Regardless, you’re going to relax even if we have to tie you down.”

  He rose and walked to the bedroom, presumably to check on Brooks. With him gone, the room felt emptier of more than just his big body. I sighed and looked up at Adam. He rubbed a thumb across my cheek. “He wasn’t lying, you know.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  His head tilted toward the door. “We’re allowed to care about you.”

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nbsp; My stomach flip-flopped. “I know,” I said uneasily.

  “Do you really? Because whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with us.” When he said “us,” I got the distinct impression he really meant to say “me.” “Can you handle that?”

  I licked my lips and tried to tamp down the sizzle of awareness. My throat suddenly felt dry again, so instead of responding, I just nodded.

  His hand moved down to caress my arm. “Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t think the word ‘care’ covers it.”

  “You don’t?” I whispered. Oh, shit, was this “the moment” Giguhl had predicted?

  His eyes glistened curiously as he shook his head. When he didn’t continue, I raised a hand and cupped his face. He lowered his forehead to mine. Swallowing hard, he whispered, “You scared me, Red. You dropped like a boulder and I couldn’t get to you fast enough.”

  I didn’t think about what I was doing. Didn’t try to rationalize it. Didn’t second-guess. I just raised my lips to his and allowed my kiss to tell him what I was feeling. And when his hands gripped my arms and he returned the kiss with a fierceness that should have scared me, I didn’t pull away.

  Adam and I had kissed before. Passionate kisses that left both of us wanting more. But this kiss wasn’t a lusty tangle of tongues and lips like the others. Instead, it was an unfurling of emotions denied for too long. And for the first time, being in Adam’s arms didn’t spark the fear that normally made me want to run from what he offered.

  After I don’t know how long, Adam pulled away a fraction. My lips spread into a self-conscious smile. “Wow,” I said, brilliant as always.

  He chuckled. “Understatement of the millennium.”

  I raised my face for another kiss. He hesitated. “What?” I asked.

  “Not that I’m complaining, but isn’t this the part where you usually try to convince me how bad of an idea this is? About how we can’t afford distractions?”

  I cringed inwardly, remembering the last time we’d discussed the distraction issue. “Let’s just say I could use a little more distraction in my life.”

  He laughed out loud then and rewarded me with another kiss. “Would it be presumptuous of me to say that I look forward to repeatedly distracting you as soon as possible?”

  “Um, guys?” Giguhl’s voice came from the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt your special moment, but you need to see this.”

  Adam pulled away with a groan. “Speaking of distractions,” he said under his breath. To Giguhl he said, “This better be good.”

  I wasn’t too thrilled by the interruption, either, but something in Giguhl’s voice cut through the pleasant haze. “What’s wrong?”

  “A severely pissed-off werebitch is calling you out downstairs.”

  Ten minutes later—five of which were spent arguing with the mage and demon—I made my way out into the courtyard. Before my doting caretakers allowed me to leave the living room, they made me chug two pints of blood. Now they flanked me like bodyguards. As much as I appreciated their support, it annoyed me, too. Even weak, the day I couldn’t defeat a stinking werewolf was the day I handed in my fangs.

  Mac prowled through the courtyard like a caged animal. Nearby, Georgia paced and bit her nails. When I exited, the vamp looked up and rushed over before my feet hit the cobblestones. “Sabina, I’m sorry. I tried to explain—”

  “No, Georgia,” Mac snapped. “This is between the trampire and me.”

  I stepped down into the courtyard and crossed my arms. “That’s Miss Trampire to you, werepuppy.”

  “Sabina.” Adam’s voice held a clear rebuke, but I ignored it. Mac was a werewolf. Her instinctive need for hierarchy meant I needed to establish dominance early or things would get out of control.

  “What’s going on, Mac?” I said, keeping my voice casual.

  Her eyes narrowed. “This is your fault.”

  I didn’t bother dragging it out or playing coy. She blamed me for what happened to Brooks, and sarcasm would only add fuel to this potential fire. “I know.”

  She faltered. Tilted her head and flared her nostrils as if trying to smell a trick.

  “However,” I continued, “I’m not the only guilty party here.”

  She cocked her chin. “What does that mean?”

  “Where were you last night?”

  Mac’s eyes skittered to the left. “Something came up. Had to cancel the show. I called Brooks to tell him.”

  “When?”

  “Around eight-thirty.”

  About ten minutes after we left. But that didn’t let her off the hook by a long shot. “Why did you cancel?”

  She puffed up. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

  “Mac,” Georgia said quietly. “Tell her.”

  Mac glared at the vamp like she wanted to throttle her. Georgia received it with a placid expression. Finally, the were sighed deeply. “One of my employees was found dead last night.”

  “Who and how?”

  “A vamp queen who went by the name Elvira Bathory.” Mac’s voice cracked. “Last night was going to be her final show.”

  Georgia walked up to put an arm around Mac’s shoulders. “Elvira was one of the locals who decided they didn’t want trouble with the Caste or your grandmother. But I guess trouble found her first.”

  “Wait a second,” Adam said. “How do you know she was killed? Vamps burn to ash when they die.”

  Georgia rubbed Mac’s back when the were shook her head like she couldn’t speak. “Elvira always wore a necklace.”

  Mac dug into her pocket and removed a simple gold chain with a fleur-de-lis pendant—a symbol sacred to both New Orleans and vampires due to its association with the goddess Lilith—and a crumpled piece of paper. “We found them stabbed into Elvira’s door with a dagger.” She held out the paper to Adam but wouldn’t surrender the necklace. Adam cursed under his breath.

  He held up the paper for me. “The first of many if the vampires of New Orleans do not cooperate.”

  “Good gods,” Giguhl said, reading over my shoulder. “Lavinia sure knows how to drive a point home, doesn’t she?”

  I jerked to glare at the demon. A blur of motion in my peripheral vision and a low growl were my only warning. Mac slammed into my back. “It’s all your fault!”

  My face smashed into the cobblestones. Before she could pin me down, I flipped and bucked her weight off me. Adam moved as if to restrain her, but I called out, “No!” I rose quickly and assumed my fighting stance. I met Mac’s feral eyes. “Come on.”

  Mac crouched low, snarling with anger. Adam backed away slowly. Judging from his expression, he’d intervene if things got too serious. But I was too busy suddenly fending off another attack to worry about Adam.

  An upper hook caught me under the chin, forcing my teeth together with a painful snap. I returned the favor with a jab to the ribs, followed quickly by a left hook to Mac’s liver. That really pissed her off. Her fingers bent into claws—not literal claws, since it wasn’t a full moon—and swiped across my cheek. Skin split open with a cold sensation before warm blood oozed down my face.

  That really pissed me off.

  My spinning back-kick knocked Mac off balance. Her arms windmilled as her body teetered on the edge between equilibrium and flat-on-her-ass. I threw my upper body back and lifted my bent leg, but before I could deliver the blow that would teach Mac a lesson, the back door of the shop burst open.

  “Stop!” Rhea’s voice cracked through the air like a gunshot.

  I glanced toward her with my leg still raised. That split second of distraction was all Mac needed to tip the scales. She shot forward, ramming her shoulder into my midsection. My feet flew off the ground. Mac screamed with exertion, slamming my back down onto the top of the patio table. The wooden frame cracked and collapsed under the force of the collision.

  Stunned, I lay with my eyes focused on the early morning sky. The sun still hadn’t cracked the horizon, but I could feel its fledgling rays pulling
on my diaphragm. Rough hands grabbed the lapels of my jacket, but before Mac could haul me up, an ear-piercing shriek ripped through the courtyard. Mac and I stilled, our heads swiveling in unison toward the horrible sound.

  Zen scowled at us from the bottom step, a white air horn clutched in her hand. Behind her, Rhea crossed her arms, her eyes crinkled with judgment.

  “Hasn’t there been enough violence for one night?”

  I pushed myself off the ground, my joints aching and my ass smarting from the impact with the table. Mac paced nearby, tensed for another round.

  Zen’s hand went to her hips. “Look at ya. Both so full of piss and vinegar.” She shook her head at us. “Well, guess what? You’re both directing your anger at the wrong enemy.”

  I didn’t bother even looking at Mac, but I pretty much assumed her expression matched my own. We might not be trying to maim each other anymore, but we sure as hell weren’t going to duck our heads like abashed children.

  Seeing our hesitation, Zen turned to Rhea. “Youth,” she complained.

  My hands shot to my hips. “I’m older than you.”

  “Me, too,” Mac added.

  The human’s eyes widened with irony. “Could have fooled me.”

  My mouth snapped shut.

  Zen rounded on Mac. “And you! Carrying on when one of your friends is dead and other nearly dead. It’s shameful and disrespectful. You should know better.”

  Mac toed the cobblestones with her Doc Marten. “Sorry, Zen.”

  “Don’t sorry me, go apologize to Brooks.”

  Mac’s head snapped up from its formerly submissive posture. “He’s awake?”

  “No,” Rhea said. “But only because I gave him a potion to make him sleep so his body could regain its strength.”

  Mac frowned at Rhea. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Adam, who had been hanging back by Giguhl until now, puffed up. “Hey! Show some respect.”

  Rhea held up a hand and shook her head at her nephew. “My name is Rhea Lazarus. In addition to being that one’s aunt”—she nodded toward Adam—“I’m the High Priestess of the Elder Moon and spiritual advisor to the Hekate Council. I’m also the one who helped Adam and Sabina save your friend’s life last night. Who the hell are you?”