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Witch On The Run: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 4)

Page 25

by Sami Valentine


  Ezra rolled up to the table, wiping his hands on his bartender’s apron. Fear tightened his features like Hamlet seeing a ghost. “Mom, no. You’re tough but you completed your destiny. You nearly didn’t come home how many times when I was a kid? Hand the baton over in this death relay. Stay.”

  Red bowed her head, paranoid that her face would reveal that she understood the source of the desperation behind his words. Everyone else saw a battle-hardened veteran in Trudy. Only Ezra and Red saw the cancer diagnosis.

  “If my Brotherhood calls me, I answer.” Trudy stood, crossing her arms. “I am needed.”

  “You’re needed with Hannah.” Ezra pointed to the girl. “They have three hunters including a vampire. I can go with them instead.”

  “But you—" Trudy sputtered, flabbergasted, glasses slipping down her nose.

  Ezra lifted his arms, shrugging off the challenge. “You trained me to be more than a bartender. Let me do it. I can’t fight like them, but I can be the wheelman. Water boy. Whatever.”

  Trudy pinched the worry trench deepening between her eyes. “No. I won’t allow it.”

  “I go if you do.”

  Red coughed for attention, noticing the black bowler hat in the light weeknight crowd of the Nostradamus Lounge. She didn’t know how she felt about taking Ezra on a hunt, but she’d feel worse if Trudy got injured. The line of thought disappeared when she noticed Vic’s brother. What was he doing back after that last blow up?

  A dark-clad Gendarme came up to them with Lashawn. “Howdy folks, I found one of your party, and I need to take Ms. Fox to find Madam Flamel. Something about a painting.”

  Ezra grinned at his mother, hands on his hips. “See, they need you here.”

  “Please, get Basil out,” Red said to Trudy. “He might have soul-read the doctor and learned something.”

  Their gazes locked for a long moment. Disquiet in the depths of her hazel eyes, the Bard nodded, mouth pursing. She looked to Ezra. “Then we both stay. Hannah as well.”

  Hannah grumbled but left at Trudy’s curt order, trailing behind her and the Gendarme.

  “Lashawn.” Relief slumping his shoulders, Vic stood. “You came back.”

  The prodigal brother shrugged, pushing his glasses up with a bemused smile. “I couldn’t go. Not after what I heard. Those werewolves are after you now, Vic. I already had a hunter call me about a bearded one sniffing around because you killed his beta.”

  Patting his brother hard on the back, Vic drew Lashawn in for a hug. “Good to have another fighter, little bro. We’re planning the ambush now.”

  “I’m going to need some chardonnay for this, please,” Lashawn said to Ezra as he pulled away from Vic.

  With a sly diabolical smile, Vic bounced into the booth next to his brother. “I got some ideas for the bastards.”

  Red jotted down their brainstorming in her journal as beer bottles and cocktail glasses multiplied on the table. After laying out the facts on the wolves and taking ideas, the disagreements started to pile up.

  Lucas sighed, pushing his empty beer pint away. His surly expression wasn’t reflected on the shiny glass. “We don’t need all this rotten magic. Just lemme at them. I can rip through a werewolf with silver chains on.”

  “That rotten magic can do the job for us,” Red snapped. “We can weaken them, maybe take them out before we even get to a hand to hand fight.”

  Lashawn raised his hand. “My vote is for booby traps. I like the idea of an ambush where I don’t have to go charging into a supernatural skirmish.”

  Lucas shook his head. “We don’t even have a location yet.”

  “I still like my idea of going to the Bunny Ranch,” Vic joked.

  Red rubbed her forehead. They had been going in circles. She got up from the table, still stinging from Lucas’s magic crack. “Fine. I’ll find us a location. Perenelle should have an idea.”

  Lucas stood to touch her arm. “Red, what I said…”

  “It’s the job, not me storming off in a huff. I’ll be back,” Red said, trying to lower her hackles. She managed it by the time she finished wandering through the maze of hallways in the academy to Perenelle’s quarters.

  Perenelle sat hunched at her laboratory worktable, chin propped up on her knuckles as she stared flatly at the impressionist prison on an easel. “I fear morale is low.”

  “He’s still in the painting, huh?”

  “Despite my and Trudy’s efforts, he does remain in there. I dismissed the Bard for now so I could better ponder the problem. I believe I am close. I just need to figure out where I went wrong. If only I could hear him…” Perenelle straightened, arms crossing over her embroidered bodice. “Enough about my failure, you look flush with news.”

  “The plan is to draw the wolves into an ambush away from the city and their unknown benefactor to avoid breaking the Dark Veil. We’ve narrowed down some locations, but I was wondering if you had an idea. I thought about the portal we came to the academy in. It could make for a quick getaway.”

  “They know it. However, there is one known to few even in these halls. It has yet to be traveled.” Perenelle rummaged through an old, battered cabinet. She pulled out an earthen jug. “This portal of which I speak is but a transplant seedling.”

  “Of what?”

  A proud smile spread across the Immortal Alchemist’s face, erasing her earlier gloom. “Of the Grand Banyan. Her roots go deep as her canopy collects the excess magical residue in the academy much like her mundane brethren do oxygen. She shares the power with her children. The recycled magic fuels many of our spells.”

  Red blinked in amazement at the self-sustaining portal system. Any space used for magic too long absorbed the energy, which would create wacky side effects. The banyan was like a natural generator and acted like a bonus air filter. “That explains why there aren’t any weird spirits hanging around here.”

  Perenelle nodded, opening the jug to release a heavy moist green scent. “The portal seedling is almost ready for its maiden voyage. We were going to send an adept to water it in a ritual, but perhaps you would like to do the honors. It will take any key holder back to the academy.”

  “Now that’s an exit strategy.” Red snapped her fingers. “Where is it?”

  “Outside Battle Forge, Nevada.” Perenelle’s smile turned wicked. “An abandoned mining town. You should be able to devise all manner of clever bedevilment for the wolves.”

  “The boys will love it.” Red thanked Perenelle and headed back to the Nostradamus Lounge while looking up Battle Forge, in the wilderness near the border with Oregon, on her phone. Vic was losing an arm-wrestling match to Lashawn when she stepped up to the table.

  “The think tank at work.” Red rolled her eyes, smiling. “I got a location. It’s a bit of a drive, but the way back will be a blink.”

  Tensions relaxed once they had a Battle Forge to strategize around. Ezra supplied them with a few more drinks to help flesh out some details for the plan until brain fry overtook them all. It was only early evening, but it felt much later. Perenelle’s elixir had been like a painkiller, easing the body-length ache of being hit by the jeep, but the effects were fading. A headache started behind her ear and spread. She rubbed at her neck while the group filtered out of the lounge.

  “Remember, you’re the lynchpin, Red. We need that magic ready. Rest up. Eat your Wheaties.” Vic gave the order with a salute as Lashawn waved to her. They wandered away to find Ian Keli’I and get the Gendarme up to speed on the deal with Perenelle.

  Black hair flopping into his gray eyes, Lucas fell into step beside her. An impish grin tugged at his lips. He had mastered the souled vampire brood, but the playful smile chased the clouds from his handsome face. “You’re a marvel, you know.”

  Red tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Where is that coming from?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Just watching you whip us lads into shape.”

  “Eventually I’ll have you all trained,” Red quipped, rubbing her hands
manically. Her smile flickered. She didn’t know if she was disturbing the fragile peace, but she couldn’t leave it unsaid. “I know it’s been weird between us, but I’m glad to have you here.”

  “I’m sorry for being thick-headed. I thought I was making it easier by keeping out of sight, but for who?” He sighed, deeply. “Not my best move.”

  Red nudged his shoulder with her own. “As a trust builder? No.”

  “I promise you can trust me to drive the decoy car. Scout’s honor, I’ll only kill the buggers if they attack me first.” Lucas put his hand up.

  Snorting, Red poked his chest. “You were never a boy scout.”

  “Never did like camping.” Lucas flashed her a boyish smile, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.

  Red touched her skin, feeling his kiss radiate.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Red.” Lucas winked. “Get your sleep. You’ve a rabbit to pull out of your hat.”

  Red blinked and he was gone. The goofy smile melted off her face as his words sunk in. Their plan required her to set off booby traps with her magic. She’d used brute magic force levitating the tire iron tonight without any supplies for support. The spell hangover felt like a head cold. Then add that she had literally been hit by a jeep. She’d only walked away because Diego blunted the impact and her magic flung her away. Battle plans were made confidently in the group but, now alone, the uncertainty crowded in. She still felt like a car wreck.

  Shoulders tensing, she didn’t know what made her look up at the parting crowd on the gaming floor, but as she drew closer, her breath caught in her throat.

  Kristoff stood at the end of a slot machine aisle, hands held behind his back, waiting like the answer to a question she didn’t dare give voice to.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Heart racing, the slot machines faded from her focus as Red stopped in front of the unsouled vampire in the designer suit. “How’d you find me?”

  “I could smell your blood.” Kristoff Novak brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder. His blue eyes fixed on the bandage peeking from under her lowered sweater hood. An icy precision entered his voice as if he were holding himself back. He clenched his fist and dropped it to his side. “I felt my sire go into a thunderous rage earlier. I’ve been too busy with the nightclub preparations to piss him off, so I assumed something happened to you. Then he texted me in no uncertain terms to not come to the mystery club meeting.”

  She planted her palm on her hip. The angle was too sassy for her thrashed body. She gingerly straightened. The werewolves had nearly run her over. Her magic had used the car’s momentum to blast her away from the wheels, but it wasn’t a soft landing in the rosemary bush, and it had reopened the claw wounds. The rest of her wasn’t any better. Red lifted her chin, ignoring the crick in her neck. “And yet here you are.”

  Kristoff deadpanned. “He didn’t say anything about afterward.”

  “If you came to see how I was, you can see I’m fine.” The lie felt weird in her mouth, like a new word. For an unsouled vampire and hunter, they didn’t lie to each other much. She avoided his eyes, drawn to his neck over his black collar. He had a dark gift that was beyond the power of the medical alchemists. She tried to not think about everything else his blood could do for her.

  “You have road rash and claw marks on you. Your definition of fine is not like mine,” Kristoff said dryly, even as concern narrowed his lingering gaze. “You clean up well for a woman about to drop from exhaustion. I’ll give you that.”

  She met his eyes. He was the secret to getting back into fighting shape. Yet the last time she had trusted him… Pride had kept the question penned in her throat. The dam broke. “Maybe you—"

  They spoke at the same time.

  “You don’t—" He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I think I understand. You want a taste.”

  Her face heated. “Not when you say it like that.”

  He directed her out of the gaming floor toward the theater. “We’ll want privacy.”

  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t for a good reason. I can say that that I put a potion on it, if anyone asks. We’re going after the wolves tomorrow, and I have to do all this magic,” Red rambled the confession, hiding her face from him. “We need to strike and I’m not ready.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything.” Big palm on her lower back, he gave her the silky reassurance. He flashed a pass from his pocket at the Gendarme guarding the still-roped-off corridor to Club Vltava. Silence weaved around them as they reached the swinging doors of the club. “Lucky for you—and not me—the shipment of glasses arrived. You won’t have to lick my… what did you call it once— my manly chest this night.”

  Red snorted at the wry smile on Kristoff’s face, following him to the gap in the counter bar. “Thanks for helping me. Considering… everything.”

  “I’m suppose I am one of those philanthropist CEOs.” After riffling through a bar shelf for a shot glass, he sliced his wrist with his thumbnail and directed the flow like a bartender with a cocktail shaker. He grinned as he set the shot glass in front of her. “I can put salt around the rim.”

  Wrinkling her nose at the thought, Red didn’t reply. She shot the blood straight, swallowing before it could settle on her tongue. Her mouth still tasted metallic anyway. She didn’t gag. It wasn’t the first time she had his undiluted blood. Like a maturing wino, she could finally taste something over the initial taste. She swallowed again, staring at the glass as the ache seeped out of her bones. “Tastes like a cold sea. Not actually, but I don’t know. The notes, I mean.”

  “North Sea. Juniper told me that once.” Kristoff smiled softly as he took the glass and rinsed it in the sink. “My father had an estate on the Swedish coast. It’s where I was born. In the middle of a storm, my mother said.”

  “An estate? You made it sound like you were raised on the streets of Prague, Mr. Self-Made Man.” Red leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. She knew the CliffsNotes of his life as a vampire, but his human life was still largely a mystery. All she’d known was that his mother had died when he was young man, leaving him to care for his little brother Arno. This detail thickened the plot.

  “My father had an estate. That and his name went to his legitimate heir when I was boy.” Kristoff wiped the glass dry, turning to put it away. A cool reserve rose over his chiseled features. “We’re not here to reminisce.”

  Red held back a frown at the rebuff. She hadn’t expected to be shut down. He had the persistence of a salesman when it came to deepening their shaky whatever it was. She wanted to call it a professional alliance. Even as she thought it, she knew the phrase was a mismatch. She kept quiet.

  He changed the subject as he faced her. “You drank enough to heal some, but I want you clear headed. I came to see you for another reason. I have a meeting tonight with the Supreme Master Vampire of Las Vegas about you.”

  Red quirked her head at him, trying to find the logic. The last thing that she wanted was to be noticed by another supreme. “The Synod have already informed the other supernaturals about the wolves. Lucas already tried asking around the local vampires too. He got the brush off.”

  “Lucas is a souled buzzkill who hunts his own kind.” Kristoff huffed a laugh, coming out from behind the bar to lean next to her. “I’m lodging a formal complaint about an attack on my claimed human and call for official action against them. The supreme can’t ignore me like Lucas or pawn me off on a representative like he did with the school. He might see the wisdom in offering the alchemists a wolf pelt as tribute. If you came, you might notice something I don’t.”

  “I’m not in the mood to dress up like sexy goth to go to some vampire club.” Red crossed her arms. “If I have to wear a corset, I’m out. I’ll compromise on a wig.”

  “You drive a hard bargain.” Kristoff grinned. He pulled a small gray vial out of his pocket. “Eternal optimist, I picked up a potion from the academy bazaar. It will dye your hair temporarily.”

  “I dressed
more for comfort. Does this sweater say bleeder or bookkeeper?” Red plucked at her plain green hoodie. The half-assed blow dry had only semi-dried her tresses. She was acutely aware of the wild locks falling from the pencil she had stuck into her ponytail to twist it up to a bun.

  “You’re perfect,” Kristoff said, whipping out a pair of black framed lenses from his pocket like a magician pulling an endless scarf from his sleeve. “Put these on. You can be my accountant. We’ll save the role of my mistress for another night.”

  Red chuckled, putting on the nonprescription frames. “You’ll need to find someone else to audition for that.”

  “Just business as usual then. Are you going to tell me what the gang was planning?”

  As they walked out back into the main casino and through the parking garage to find his car, Red gave him the rough strokes of the plan. She and Vic were leaving through a portal to Reno and then on to Battle Forge to set up the ambush before Lucas and Lashawn lured the wolves in the repaired Millennium Falcon.

  Through the chatter, she kept her eyes on the shadows of the garage. She could feel Kristoff equally alert beside her. It was obvious the Lamborghini was his even before he clicked the headlamps to life. She slipped into the front seat, and silence reigned as the engine purred in the Nevada night. The dazzle of the neon Strip reflected on the luxury vehicle. Tourists took pictures of it paused at a red light.

  Red remembered the potion and drank it quickly. She gagged at the dirt and licorice taste. It was quicker, but she preferred the salon. Her scalp tingled, and the sensation wiggled down her body. She pushed up her sleeves, gawking at her darkening arm hair.

  Kristoff looked over, smile dying on his lips. “I didn’t know it would be black.”

  “Does it look okay?” Red asked, staring into the mirror on the inside of the sun visor. She liked the color. It brought out her green eyes and pale skin. She lifted an eyebrow at him. “There’s a loophole in professional boundaries when I’m fishing for a compliment.”

 

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