Malaika envisioned a wall of strong, silver bricks in her mind. Each brick was laced with protective power, completely impenetrable. Behind that wall, she forced every vision and sensation she'd had of Craig. The witch draining her of information could find him in her memory bank, and could feel her emotions for him, but she was not tapping into any vision concerning him. The only information she'd get involving the murders would be the vision of Jonah's partner being attacked. She gave that one freely.
What seemed like hours passed as Seta drained her of every inch of information she could. Malaika felt the other witch searching inside her head, seeking out something in every crook and cranny, but she couldn't penetrate the wall, couldn't even seem to see it. Her limbs started to shake uncontrollably and cold dampness clung to her back. She felt Seta start to withdraw, and then she felt nothing at all.
SIX
Jonah sprang forward as Malaika's eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped sideways out of the chair. He'd barely managed to slide under her before she hit the floor. “What the hell?”
Seta shook her head as if coming out of a trance and stood from her seat to kneel at their side. Jonah cradled Malaika on his lap while Seta ran her hand over the witch's forehead, her eyes closed. “What are you all doing in here?”
“We wondered what the hell was taking so long,” Jake answered for the small group assembled in the room. “It's been hours.”
Seta's eyes opened as a frown marred her beautiful face. “She was supposed to be sharing her visions with me, but I could tell there was something hidden in her mind. I didn't realize I spent so much time searching for it.”
“What did you do to her?” Jonah couldn't bite back the anger in his tone, despite knowing Seta was a volatile vampire-witch with a hair-trigger temper. When she pierced him with a lethal glare, he held her gaze steadily. “If you hurt her—”
“Jacob, you might want to educate your brother on how to respect his elders,” the vampiress, who didn't look a day over eighteen, snarled.
“Joe, cool it, dude,” Jake said softly, but his hand was already reaching toward his lower back where a gun specially equipped for killing vampires rested. “Seta, I think you do need to tell us what's going on here.”
“She's just drained,” Seta answered, giving Jonah a narrow-eyed glare as she rose to a stand and turned toward Jake. “Are you going to shoot me, Jacob?”
Nyla rested her hand on Jake's shoulder, and he dropped his hand back down to his side. “Not unless you give me reason to. Don't ever threaten my brother.”
“You know I don't threaten, Jacob, and if I wanted him hurt, he'd already be bleeding. Same for the witch. She's just not strong enough yet to take a long psychic drain.”
The two stared each other down for a long, tense moment, and though he couldn't see Seta's face from where he was positioned behind her, Jonah knew Jake never blinked an eye. Until his gaze changed direction to rest on Deja. “Why hasn't she woken up yet?”
Every head in the room, with the exception of the still-unconscious Malaika, turned toward Deja. The little girl was resting soundly on the cot. Though she was breathing, it was apparent something was wrong. Full night had fallen and she'd been asleep since daylight without moving a muscle.
“Malaika isn't conscious. The hold over her daughter shouldn't be this strong,” Seta said as she walked with Jake and Christian to the side of the room, to hover over the cot.
Unease crept through Jonah's gut, and he twisted to take off his jacket one-handed while keeping a hold on Malaika's lifeless body. Nyla bent over him and helped to remove his jacket, then balled it up into a makeshift pillow.
“Thanks,” he said softly as he lowered Malaika to the floor, his jacket cushioning her head, then rose to join the others.
Seta sat on the cot, at Deja's side, running her hands over her body. They slowed as she reached the little girl's neck and inched over her small face. “An influence spell shouldn't have put the girl in this deep of a sleep,” she murmured. “Her energy level is unusually low for a child her age. I wonder how many spells her mother has worked on her.”
Anger surged through Jonah's blood and he stepped toward the witch, but was blocked by Jake's arm. “Calm down, bro.”
“Your brother is becoming a nuisance,” Seta stated. Her jaw set hard before turning her attention back to Deja. “This girl is much too weak for my liking.”
“Malaika didn't do a damn thing to harm her.”
“Joe, you've only known the woman how long?”
Jonah stared at his brother in disbelief, his blood growing hotter. “How long did you know her”—he jerked his head in Nyla's direction—“before you married her? You're one to talk.”
Jake's eyes widened in offense, his mouth twisted into a sneer. “I've known Nyla a whole hell of a lot longer than you think, definitely a hell of a lot longer than you've known that witch.” Nyla put a hand on his shoulder and he seemed to calm. With a conferring look at his wife, he put his arm down, no longer blocking Jonah. “Nobody's accused her of anything yet. Just chill your ass out.”
Jonah stared between his brother and Nyla, knowing there was something Jake was hiding from him. He didn't know Nyla before she'd met up with him while searching for Curtis Dunn. He knew it because Jake had called him and asked for him to dig up everything he could find on Nyla Katt. The woman was a ghost on paper. He hadn't found a single scrap of evidence she existed while running the search. And thinking of Curtis Dunn, he still didn't know what came of their search or what really happened in Hicksville. As soon as he knew Deja was alright, he intended to get some answers.
“I can infuse her with some of my power and see if that helps,” Seta suggested, breaking into his thoughts.
“What will that do to her?”
Seta met his gaze. “Don't worry, Mr. Porter, being a witch is not a disease one catches. Not that being a witch is a sin,” she muttered angrily as she turned her attention back to Deja, and rested her hands over the young girl's chest.
Jonah looked at his brother for reassurance, and the younger Porter nodded his head, indicating Deja would be fine. Jake's reassurance did a little to ease his mind as he saw the yellow glow of power grow from Seta's palms, but not enough to keep a trickle of sweat from sliding down his back. He balled his hands into fists to keep from fidgeting nervously and offered up a silent prayer for Deja's well-being.
The light from Seta's hands spread over Deja's small body, flickered, then disappeared. Deja gasped and opened her eyes. The sight of three strangers standing over her induced a small cry from her throat and she quickly jerked into a sitting position. Before Jonah could take a step, her big green eyes fixed on him and she jumped from the cot, launching herself at him. “Who are they? Where am I? Where's Ma—”
Jonah rubbed a hand on the little girl's head as she loosened her arms from around his thighs and glanced at where her mother lay resting on the floor. “Your mom is going to be fine, Deja, and these are friends.” He glared at Seta, not giving a damn if she could break him in two with a simple snap of her fingers. The witch had better not harm one hair on the child's body. He'd kill her himself, even if he had to come back from the dead to do it. “No one here will hurt you.”
Deja looked around, studying each one of the strangers before turning her gaze back to Jonah. With the pink stuffed unicorn he'd bought her fisted tightly in one little hand, she raised her arms up. Jonah scooped her up effortlessly and held her tight. “You hungry, sweetheart?”
“I want fries.”
Jonah chuckled, a little tension easing from his shoulders. “Of course you do. Let's get you and your mom back home, if that's alright with our friends.”
“Actually, I'll need to talk to Malaika first,” Jake cut in.
“Interrogate her, you mean.”
“Do you want to keep finding chewed up—” Jake glanced at Deja and didn't finish his sentence. “She's the one with the answers right now.”
“Didn't your littl
e commando witch over there get enough information when she mind-raped her?”
“I did no such thing!” Seta exclaimed. “She gave me every drop of information I gleaned, willingly.”
“See, I'd believe that if she had been able to pull away from your hold when it got too intense.”
Seta looked away and he knew he was right. He shifted Deja's weight in his arms and glanced at his brother over her head. Jake looked away, too, and the action stung. If he couldn't fully trust his own brother to ensure the safety of the hu—But Malaika wasn't a full human, he reminded himself. Not like himself, or Deja. He glanced back down at Deja. Hell. Was she a witch, too? Dammit. What had he done to get in this mess? Why couldn't he be ignorant to the supernatural like millions of other clueless people? Life had seemed a lot easier before he'd learned his brother knew what he was talking about when it came to vampires, shifters, and all that crazy stuff.
And why did he have to feel something for these two? A witch and her adorable, possibly also a witch, daughter. “Does Malaika have to rest or can you do something to wake her? Deja's hungry.”
“Seta.” Jake deferred to the vampire-witch, and she kneeled at Malaika's side, her eyes closed and brow knit in concentration.
“There's safety in numbers,” Christian said softly. The vampire who'd only observed up until then looked at Jake pointedly. There was something going on there, some reason why Jake had come to Christian's church instead of to his own brother, and Jonah sucked in a long, deep breath, barely controlling his anger. Dammit. He would find out what was going on, even if he had to beat it out of his brother. “I'll get the little girl some food.”
“Maybe Christian could take Deja with him.”
Deja wrapped her arms tighter around Jonah's neck and he shook his head at his brother. “She stays with me.”
“It's best she does,” Christian said as Jake opened his mouth to speak. “There are more here to protect her in case…” His words trailed off and he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black pants. “What would you like with your fries, little one?”
Deja rose her head from Jonah's shoulder to peek out at the boyish-looking vampire and a shy smile formed on her little face. “Nuggets.”
“Nuggets?”
“Chicken nuggets,” Jonah clarified. “You can get them at a Mcdonald's or Wendy's.”
The vampire nodded and left. Jonah turned his attention back to Jake while Seta let her hands hover over Malaika's chest. The witch started to stir.
“You have a lot to explain,” Jonah stated firmly. “I want to know what happened in Hicksville and why you're suddenly buddy-buddy with these people.”
“These people helped save your life.”
“Did they need to? I thought you were some almighty slayer. You couldn't save me yourself?”
The two brothers stared each other down, neither budging until Seta cleared her throat, snagging their attention.
“The junior witch has awakened,” she announced as Malaika sat up and rubbed her temples.
“What happened?” Malaika asked. “I feel hungover. I think. I've never actually been hungover before.”
Malaika's skin was full of color, her eyes bright and clear. She looked fine. Relief swelled inside Jonah's chest, quickly causing his nearly-smiling mouth to twist into a frown. The woman was a witch. He couldn't forget that despite his gut instinct telling him she was a good person.
“What do you think?”
Seta sighed and took in the scene. They'd moved out of the cramped room and into the sanctuary. Malaika sat in a front pew with Deja close at her side, watching over the girl as she ate the food Christian had brought back from a fast food restaurant. Jonah Porter sat across the aisle, watching the two as a variety of emotions played across his face.
Nyla rested a few rows behind them, stretched out along one of the pews. Christian was near the altar, talking in low tones with a young pregnant woman who had come into the church seeking his guidance.
That left Jacob Porter, who sat next to her in the back row. Never in a million years would she have guessed there'd be a day a vampire-witch and a slayer could sit side by side in a church, of all places, and have a conversation not filled with death threats. It troubled her with its easiness, for it was surely a sign the impending war between good and evil forces drew closer.
“I think this is all a big mess,” she finally answered.
“Understatement.” Jacob snorted before raising his booted feet to rest on the back of the pew before him. There were shadows under his eyes and his body lacked its usual abundance of raw energy.
“You're spreading yourself too thin, Porter.”
“Why do you think I came here for Christian's help?”
“You'd trust a vampire to help protect your child?” Seta's mouth turned up at the corners and she tried to ignore the warmth surrounding her heart. Warm and fuzzy emotions served her no purpose.
“Who better to protect my son than his own people?”
“You think he will be part vampire?”
“Possibly.”
Seta pondered the thought. She knew her own grandchild, due any day now as well, would be part vampire, but as for Jake and Nyla's child… There was no telling what traits that child would inherit. Maybe he'd inherit them all. What an amazing warrior he would be for the side of good. If the child could control his own darkness.
“When do you plan on telling your brother about his nephew, and more importantly, about yourself?”
Jacob rested his head along the back of the pew and closed his eyes, his throat bared to her attack. Seta's eyes widened, acknowledging how deeply the man who lived and breathed to battle her kind had grown to trust her. Never before learning the truth about Nyla would he have made himself such an easy target.
“He knows I'm a slayer.”
“That's the easy part,” Seta said softly, almost a whisper. “What about the rest?”
“It's not easy, Seta.” He opened one greenish-brown eye and peered at her. “Jonah is the only member of my family who never wrote me off as a stark-raving freak. If he knew what Curtis did to me—”
“He will love you anyway. He's your own blood.”
“So are my parents, and they don't give a flying fuck if I live or die.”
Seta closed her eyes and swallowed hard, the tortured pain seeming to come straight up from Jacob's soul and through to his voice tore at her heart. She'd given her life—literally—to protect her son, and could never in a million centuries understand how any mother couldn't love her own child. “Even if by chance he couldn't accept it, you know you'll always have Nyla. And your… friends.”
Jacob met her gaze and an awkward moment of silence passed between them. Seta nearly laughed at her own stupidity. She was like Cain telling Abel to just forget about the whole murder thing. They could still be buddy-buddy no matter what.
“Enough touchy-feely counseling time,” Jake muttered, straightening in the pew. “Let's get back on track. Were-hyenas. In Baltimore. Dead bodies piling up, and my brother is smack-dab in the middle of it and just happened to pick up a witch and her kid along the way.”
“A witch and child he is growing attached to,” Seta added as she followed his troubled gaze to where it roamed back and forth between the three.
“I don't like it.”
“Because you genuinely sense a threat from her, or is your opinion bigoted?” Seta couldn't help but let the irritation she felt slip through her tone.
“What did you see when you broke into her mind?” Jacob asked, ignoring her question.
“I did not force my way into—”
“I'm not complaining, Seta. It's exactly what I wanted you to do.”
Seta growled a little, easing some of her frustration. She may have been manipulative, but she'd been given the information she filtered freely, even if she held Malaika in the psychic link a little longer than the younger witch had wanted.
Jacob turned his face toward her, his eyebrows r
aised in expectation.
Seta recalled the snatches of information she'd received from the psychic drain and told him what she knew. “Her mother and grandmother didn't get along well, so she wasn't allowed enough time with her grandmother to properly learn about who she was or what she would become. The grandmother seemed to have no ill intent, not an evil bone in her body. Malaika led a pretty normal life with her mother and father. Good student, athletic, creative, but she didn't use her powers to gain anything.”
“What has she used her powers for?”
“From what I could gather, she's pretty much only tapped into her magic by accident. Influence spells, which are spells invoked through concentrated thought, have been used. You already know about the sleeping spell. She's used a healing influence spell a few times when her child has been sick. Other than that, the only magical abilities she's used have been her raw, untrained psychic powers, and a few times she has defended herself with the power balls.”
“I understand her using the power balls with me,” Jacob commented. “I'm a slayer and she's a witch. It's natural. When else has she used them?”
“She had a boyfriend who tried to beat her,” Seta answered and Jacob balled up his fist with a sneer of disgust that she was sure matched her own. “And once during a very heated argument with her mother, she felt the power starting to come to life. She broke away and locked herself in another room so she could control it.”
“So she doesn't enjoy using her powers for dark purposes,” Jacob surmised.
“You're forgetting that she's went through life thus far unaware of the havoc she could wreak. Who knows how she would have used her powers if she understood the depth of them.”
“I'm not forgetting,” Jacob replied, looking at his brother. “I'm just hoping. That fool down there is sprung on her.”
“I noticed. Her and the little girl. Your brother appears to be a very decent, caring young man.”
Witch's Net Page 10
