Speak of the Devil

by Jena Gregoire

She went on to explain everything that had happened so far, and even sent him out to the side deck to see his name spelled out in stones. When she was finished with the story, she held out a tall glass of Tempero.

  “Drink.” He took the glass from her and drank it all down. As he set the glass on the countertop, Harley walked back through the front door, trailed by Charlie and a man Dez didn’t recognize. Dez watched the slender man as he slowly rocked back and forth from one foot to the other, his blond hair dangling down over one eye. The eye she could see was glossed over and unfocused, as though he was staring right through all of them.

  “Michael.” Harley’s voice was calm, yet somehow seemed to hold urgency. “How long has it been since you finished the serum?”

  “Just now, as you walked in.” Vegas was eyeing the newcomer with curiosity.

  “Who is he?” Dez asked, never having seen the man before.

  “This,” Harley said, reaching up and putting a hand on the man’s shoulder, “is Ethan. He’s a willing donor and Michael needs to feed.”

  “Why does he look fucked up?”

  “He’s been naturally sedated,” Charlie answered. “Melatonin. All natural. He’s a willing donor, but he’s nervous. He’s never done this before.”

  “He isn’t a junkie,” Harley promised. “It’s his first time. He asked if there was anything I could do to calm his nerves, so I did.” Turning to Vegas, she continued. “But you’re not ready yet. You need to give the serum time, about ten minutes, to get into your system so you don’t accidentally go too far and rip a hole in the poor guy’s neck.” She whispered the last part, and then eyed Ethan in hopes that he didn’t hear it.

  “I can’t—“ Vegas began, but couldn’t finish the thought. Dez knew where Vegas’ mind was headed; he made a point to never feed in front of anyone. Apparently, Harley figured it out too.

  “Never mind that,” she said, shaking her head. “We have a few spare rooms here. You’ll have plenty of privacy.”

  “Thank you,” Vegas replied, the gratitude genuine.

  “No problem,” she answered as she started to walk away. Then she stopped and turned back to him. “Just don’t get any blood on the carpets. That shit will never come out. Once you’re fed, we can get started on the problem at hand, namely the condition of my home every time your brother feels we aren’t paying enough attention to him.” She winked at Vegas, and then proceeded out to the side deck to clean up the mess Lucas had left.

  Dez walked around the counter to Vegas and lightly rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to ease some of his tension. She set her chin on his shoulder and whispered, “You’ll feel better soon. Just try to relax.” Vegas’s only response was to lean his head over, resting it against her own. After a few minutes, she stood up and turned to Charlie, who had just returned from showing Ethan to one of the spare rooms, her hand still resting on Vegas’ shoulder.

  “Where did you find that guy?” she whispered. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “He’s a local,” Charlie said. “He’s hard up for cash right now, in real dire straits. Harley promised him you’d pay him twenty-five thousand dollars for this donation.”

  “Twenty-five thousand?” Dez had plenty of money, so the figure didn’t shock her, but donors usually didn’t get quite so much.

  “That much money out here will completely turn his life around. Hell, he only has a small place. That will probably pay off the remainder of his mortgage.”

  “Enough said, I will make sure he’s paid what he was promised.” Dez glanced at the clock and saw enough time had passed. “Vegas,” she said tenderly. “It’s time.”

  With a big sigh and brightly glowing eyes, Vegas stood and started down the hallway.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dez

  By the time Vegas and Ethan emerged from the spare bedroom, Harley was almost done setting the room up for their séance. The couches were pushed back and the coffee table had been moved from the center of the room, exposing the majority of the living room floor.

  “Hey, Dez, would you mind giving me a hand with this?” Harley asked as she bent down to grab two corners of the area rug. Dez reached down and picked up the opposite corners. “We're just going to fold it up and put it in the kitchen.” Dez did as instructed and when she turned back around, she saw a red pentacle inside a circle painted on the wooden floor where the rug had been.

  “Wow,” she said, not having expected the ancient symbol to be there.

  “Yeah,” Harley explained, “I am a little more serious about my craft than most modern practicing witches. I ruined a perfectly good hardwood floor for this.” Harley had brought a few boxes of white pillar candles out of one of her closets, and Dez grabbed an armful of them, placing one at each point of the star. Harley placed additional candles around the room. Once they were all in place, they both whispered "incendia" and all the candles lit simultaneously.

  “I’ve never done an actual séance before,” Dez explained. Pointing at the candles not touching the pentagram, she asked, “What are those ones for?”

  “Ambiance,” Harley replied with a smile as she lit yet another candle. “They’re not necessary. I just like candles.”

  Dez looked down into one of the boxes, noticing it was over-stuffed with candles of all kinds. “Um, I can see that. Is there anything else I can help with?”

  “No,” Harley replied, “thanks, though. We are ready whenever you guys are.”

  Vegas crossed the room, slid an arm around to the small of Dez’s back, and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead.

  “Feeling better?” she asked in a low voice as she tipped her head back to get a look at his eyes. They were no longer glowing and his cheeks had a rosy hue to them again.

  “Much,” he replied, and then he turned to Harley. “Thank you. I owe you one.”

  “You owe me nothing,” she replied. “However, you owe Ethan a large sum of money.”

  “Yes.” Dez turned to their savior. “Ethan, if you can give me your bank information, I will have the money wired to your account first thing in the morning. We can’t possibly thank you enough.”

  “Not a problem,” Ethan replied, his voice still sounding pleasantly dazed. “It wasn’t as bad as I expected. Barely hurt at all.”

  “Well, don’t go making a habit of this, especially not this close to Las Vegas. Not all vampires are as nice about it as I try to be. All it takes is one asshole suck head and you could end up dead. Got it?” Vegas cautioned.

  Ethan’s eyes widened with horror as he croaked out, “Got it.”

  “Ethan, how far away do you live?” Dez asked. “Do you need a ride home?”

  “Oh no,” he said, smiling, the fear already gone from his eyes. “I live just around the corner, I can walk. I’m actually going to head out now. I'll leave the wiring info in Harley’s mailbox, is that okay?”

  “Of course it is,” Harley answered.

  “Okay, thanks,” he said. Turning to Vegas, he held his hands out to shake the vampire’s. “Michael, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Suddenly, he got a little more quiet and tripped over his own words. “I appreciate you, um, not, um... ripping my throat out.” Apparently he did hear Harley.

  Vegas laughed, shook his hand, and said, “You’re welcome.” Deziree was overwhelmed with a wave of happiness at the sound of Vegas laughing again. Ethan stepped up to Dez, offering his hand to her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t get your name.”

  “Deziree,” she replied. “But you can call me Dez.”

  “Dez,” he repeated. “Okay, um, thank you, Dez.”

  Dez leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Really,” she said quietly, hoping her eyes conveyed just how much she appreciated his help. “Thank you. I'll be in touch with you in the morning.” With that, Ethan walked out the door.

  “Sweet kid,” Dez said to no one in particular.

  “He’s a good guy,” Harley said. “Does anyone know
where the hell my husband went?”

  “Yeah,” Dez replied, “he went outside while we were moving the couches. I think he’s just out on the deck.”

  “Charlie!” Harley yelled.

  “Call him ‘Chuck,’” Dez suggested. “He loves that.”

  Harley giggled, and then she yelled again, this time in a sing-song voice. “Oh Chuck!”

  “Don’t call me that,” Charlie said with a smile as he walked in the side door. “Dez, you’ll pay for that.”

  “We’re ready,” Harley announced before Dez got a chance to respond. “Everyone, take a seat on the floor around the circle. Do either of you have anything of Lucas’s?”

  “I don’t,” Dez answered. “Vegas?”

  “Me neither,” he replied, shaking his head.

  “That’s okay,” Harley explained. “We don’t really need it. Objects which belonged to the departed make it easier to connect with them, but he’s been so active here, I don’t think we really need anything.”

  Dez and Vegas sat down next to each other on the floor. Vegas reached over and took Dez’s hand, caressing her hand with his thumb.

  “Okay, everyone,” Harley continued, “close your eyes and breathe deeply. You need to get as relaxed as you possibly can without, you know, going to sleep.”

  Dez closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. She pictured the breath going in, filling her lungs, and then out, dispelling any negativity and stress as the air left her body. After a few minutes, Harley spoke again, this time in a quiet, soothing voice.

  “Lucas, are you with us?”

  Dez opened her eyes, waiting for some sort of response. A glass being smashed against a wall or a door slamming. Something to give them a sign that he was there. The house was completely silent, the desert night contributing to the lack of sound. They all sat quietly, waiting for something to happen. Then Harley spoke again.

  “Lucas, if you’re here, try to make some noise to let us know.”

  Again, nothing happened.

  “Maybe I am not being specific enough,” Harley said. “Lucas, since I know you can move objects, if you are here with us, knock one of my shot glasses off the shelf.”

  Again, they waited, and again, nothing happened. They continued for several hours trying to make contact with Lucas and got no results.

  Dez started to get frustrated. “I can’t understand why he wouldn’t show after everything else he’s done around here,” she said.

  “Well,” Harley replied, “maybe we can try again later today. Why don’t we call it a night and head to bed? Once we have all had a chance to get some rest, we can try again, and maybe we'll all be a little more focused.”

  “Alright,” Dez replied. “You’ve got a point.”

  “You guys can take the spare room Dez slept in last night,” Charlie said before blowing out two of the candles. Vegas climbed to his feet and offered his hand to Dez. She took it and he lifted her up and then pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We will figure this out.”

  After they were all done cleaning up the candles and putting the living room back together, the two couples retired to their respective bedrooms. Dez climbed under the blankets and curled up next to Vegas, facing him, using his arm as a pillow.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Never better,” he replied as he turned on his side and wrapped his free arm around her. “This is the first time I have been able to fully relax in about five months.”

  Guilt stabbed at Dez and she hesitated before responding, choosing her words carefully.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said, making sure he heard the sincerity in her voice. She paused a moment before continuing. “But I won’t apologize for what I did. Has it sucked being all alone? Absolutely, but I know I did what had to be done and I am completely confident no one else would have pulled the trigger. She would have gotten away with murder. It may not have been the popular decision in the moment, but it had to be done.”

  “You don’t really think I’m upset about Cassandra being dead, do you?” When Dez didn’t respond, he propped himself up on an elbow and stared down into her eyes. He didn’t speak for a long moment and she wondered if he was angry. “You were right, and if it hadn’t been you, I would have done my best to put her down. But I really think you were the only one who could have done it. Not for a lack of trying, mind you, but if anyone else had come at Cassandra, she would have laid them out without batting an eyelash, myself included.” He raised his hand to her face and tenderly brushed the stray pieces of raven-colored hair back behind her ear. He placed his hand on her cheek and stared into her eyes for a few silent moments. “I haven’t been able to relax because I spent every moment you were away from me wondering whether or not I would ever see you again. A piece of me shut down when you disappeared, and until my phone rang yesterday, I thought I would never feel anything again. The moment I saw you tonight, I knew.”

  Dez tried with every fiber of her being to ask him what he knew, but the words weren’t able to make it past the lump in her throat.

  “I never want to be away from you again,” he explained. “No matter what we face, I need you to promise me we will handle it together. Can you promise me that?”

  Dez nodded her head and swallowed hard, trying to avoid the flood of tears she felt coming on. “I promise,” she replied in a harsh whisper. Vegas lightly kissed her forehead, then her lips.

  “You don’t have to go up against anything alone, and you didn’t have to take off in Italy. You need to remember we are partners. Even if we weren’t in a relationship, I would still be by your side.” He laid his head back on the pillow and pulled her to him in a silent promise to never let go. “Now,” he said as he closed his eyes, “let’s get some sleep.”

  Dez shut her eyes and let the sound of his long, slow breaths lull her into a comfortable daze. Finally, the darkness, and true rest, claimed her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Michael

  Michael opened his eyes to find himself in the middle of absolute nothingness. There was no light, no colors, and no sound. Just a spacious black void. Although he could feel the solid ground beneath his feet, there was no surface to be seen. He glanced at his surroundings, searching for something, anything, to give himself a sense of direction and found only more of the same. He had no idea where he was or how he got there, and more importantly, he had no idea how to get back. The soft whisper of a familiar voice right at his ear set every nerve in his body at ease.

  “Don’t panic.” He quickly turned and came face-to-face with Deziree, and she was stunning. When he’d arrived earlier in the evening, he noticed she looked exhausted. It was prominent enough in her features and in the way she carried herself that it caught his attention, even through his hunger.

  “Really, there’s nothing to worry about,” she assured him.

  “What is this?”

  “This,” she said, gesturing around them, “is hard to explain. We are in the ether, but not dead.” She slowly turned and surveyed the space around them as she continued. “Coming here is something I believe came along with the progression of my demon abilities.” She turned back to him. “Do you remember the first time I met Asmodeus? In that dream? That’s what this is. You and I are still in Arizona, laying in each other’s arms, and by now, you’re probably snoring.”

  “I don’t snore.”

  “You totally snore,” she scoffed, and then continued. “It’s a dream state of sorts, but I am able to connect with you through it. I honestly thought I could only do this with other demons, but here you are. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you're a supernatural. I don’t know for sure. This is all still very new to me. I haven’t exactly been practicing and it’s not like I have someone to turn to for lessons.”

  “You seem to have figured it out well enough,” he replied. “So, is this what it looked like when you saw Asmodeus? This whole bl
ack hole effect is a strange sensation.”

  “No,” she answered, “this is just here. I think I might be able to…” Her words trailed off and she closed her eyes for a moment. One minute they were standing in the middle of nothing, the next they were standing in front of the familiar plush leather couch, alone, in his living room.

  “Better?” she asked, a sly smile on her face.

  “Yes, much better.”

  “And we’re completely alone,” she added, the smile turning mischievous. Michael felt his teeth extend at the suggestion in her words. He stepped forward, took her hands, and pulled them up around his neck as he tasted her mouth, their tongues dancing in an erotic rhythm. Their kiss deepened with intensity and a small moan escaped from Dez. Michael was reminded of the dream he had on New Year’s Eve and hoped this was not another small act of torture, compliments of his subconscious mind. He pushed the thought back and ran his hands down her arms, down her sides, allowing his thumbs to briefly brush over her nipples before proceeding down to grasp the supple curves of her ass.

  Before his hands could reach their final destination, the sound of someone not-so-quietly clearing their throat startled them both. Michael spun around to see his brother staring back at him with a smile curling the edge of his lips. He was so stunned it took him a moment to realize someone else was standing with Lucas. Michael instantly recognized her as Natalia, the murdered records keeper for the covens. Had he not been sent to investigate her death and seen pictures of her, he never would have known who she was, as they hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting while she was still alive.

  “You two really should get a room,” Lucas said as he took a step toward them. Michael still stood there, stunned. It took him a moment to gather himself enough to speak.

  “Is this real?” he asked. “Are you really here?” Michael glanced down at Dez, and she smiled a sweet smile and nodded her head in confirmation.

  “Oh, it’s real,” Lucas replied.

  Something in Michael finally let go and he embraced his brother in a tight hug, afraid to let go.