A Little Dark Magic (The Little Coven Series Book 2)

by Isabel Wroth

  On the phone in the living room, Maks turned at the sound of her boot heels on the floor. Starting there at her shoes, his gaze slowly rose as he took in the view.

  She stopped far enough away for him to get a good look, his lashes falling to half-mast, lips parting to touch the tip of his tongue to a pointed canine.

  He made the appropriate noises in response to whoever he was talking to, but it was clear to her he wasn’t really listening.

  When he got to her chest, Kerrigan saw his nostrils flare, no doubt noticing her nipples pressing hard against the thick material.

  He lifted his hand and drew a circle in the air, urging her to spin for him. Kerrigan slowly obliged, gasping in surprise when she turned around to find him only inches away.

  Maks had crossed the room soundlessly, and the blazing heat in his gaze made her want to delay breakfast for another few hours.

  He caught her around the waist, his palm settling on the exposed skin of her low back, drawing her that final step forward to feel the hard press of his cock against her belly. Kerrigan couldn’t help but smirk, guessing her outfit looked better than he’d expected.

  Maks touched the softest of kisses to her mouth as though concerned he might mess up her lipstick. It was sweet, no more than a tiny peck, and Kerrigan was all too happy to rake her bottom lip through her teeth to show him the stain that matched the color of his suit wasn’t going anywhere.

  His pupils dilated in a flash of lust, his voice an octave lower when he answered whoever was on the phone.

  “Of course, I am willing to meet with them, Thomas, but females aren’t allowed in the club, so unless they’re willing to bend the rules for a single evening, they’ll have to come here.”

  Kerrigan could hear the echo of shock in whatever Thomas said in reply, earning a snort from Maks.

  “Tell them whatever you want, but those are my terms.”

  A knock sounded on the door, and after a much more satisfying kiss, Maksim left her standing there to answer it.

  The man—who was arguably as big, if not bigger than Hector—wearing chef’s whites lumbered through the door, had to actually duck beneath the frame to enter.

  The man gave her a nod, his voice deep and gruff greeting. “You go on and call me Ben, ma’am. I understand you’re hungry for some gingersnap pancakes with vanilla syrup.”

  *****

  Kerrigan wasn’t a stranger to gingersnap pancakes, but Ben’s were, hands down, the best. In response to her surprise that Ben made the batter from scratch, he glowered at her from under bushy brows and shook a whisk at her.

  “Ain’t nuthin that comes out of a box worth eating.”

  With no logical rebuttal, Kerrigan patiently waited while Ben worked his magic.

  The vanilla syrup just teetered on too sweet, perfectly balanced by the spice in the pancakes. Each bite melted in her mouth and was so good she ate six of the thick cakes before declaring she couldn’t eat another crumb.

  As he packed up his utensils and ingredients, Ben gave her a smile that made his eyes sparkle.

  “You got a good appetite; I’ll cook for you anytime, girly.” Ben let himself out, and Kerrigan swiveled on her barstool to see Maks was still on the phone, pacing back and forth in front of the windows that looked out onto the Hudson River.

  He was deep in conversation, and she’d been eyeballing the stack of files on the countertop during her meal.

  The files containing the last year of Quentin Van Horn’s life. Since he was busy, and since Kerrigan was certain the files weren’t a big secret, she pulled them across the counter toward her and perused through the records pertaining to the security jobs Quentin worked.

  The more she read, the more impressed Kerrigan was. Quentin’s notes and reports were incredibly detailed, from the spell he used to cast the protective barriers around banks or personal vaults, the time of day, ingredients.

  There were even handwritten notes for how to improve the efficacy of the warding on a case to case basis.

  Kerrigan couldn’t help but compare Quentin’s neat and orderly handwriting to what she knew of Juliet’s wild, messy scrawl. In reading the files, Kerrigan could tell Quentin had been extremely thorough, organized, and a highly talented Ceremonial Ritualist.

  His work was complicated, precise, and elegant in nature. Judging by the composition of his spells, Juliet’s brother had been a poet at heart.

  “Finally,” Maksim huffed as he ended his call with Thomas and came over to stroke his hand down the length of Kerrigan’s ponytail. “Isaiah will be returning at some point tonight. Thomas has arranged for all of us to meet in the Petite Ballroom.”

  “There’s a ballroom in the building?”

  Maks chuckled at her disbelief. “There are two, actually. The building was built by a businessman in the seventies with a flare for the dramatic. He hosted state and political parties in the Grand Ballroom and more intimate affairs in the Petite Ballroom.”

  “Wonders never cease.” She opened another file and felt her heart skip a beat.

  “Is something wrong, love?”

  Kerrigan shook her head, her heart twisting in her chest to see the cause of Quentin’s death. He’d committed suicide by jumping from the twentieth floor out into the atrium.

  The picture clipped to the top corner… the ghost of the intern she’d made contact with on their first night here was Quentin Van Horn.

  “I need to get some work done before we head out.”

  *****

  “How is it you’re always right here waiting for me?” Kerrigan asked as she stepped onto the center stone of the folly. Austmathr smiled and gave a flourishing bow, lifting his arm up to wave at the silvery sky above him.

  “You summon me with the glorious sound of a ringing bell every time you enter this realm. Like a dog.” The beatific smile he wore turned to an evil glare, his chin lifting in contemptuous anger. “Has the truth been revealed to you, little witch?”

  “I can’t say anything without projectile vomiting until it feels like my head is going to split in two, but yes, I know what was done to me. I still don’t know which one of your reprobate progeny is responsible, but that will change soon. Have you found the rest of the fragments?”

  Austmathr reached into his robes and produced the frothy pink shards. He said nothing as Kerrigan took them carefully, which made her glance at the brightly shining sigils on her hands to confirm the pieces were, in fact, parts of Cecilie’s soul.

  “You don’t trust me?” Austmathr drawled nastily.

  Kerrigan snorted, examining the fragments before closing her fist around them, binding the pieces to the sapphire.

  It took a moment to feel them settle, knitting back together. The spirit encased in stone gave a pulse that Kerrigan felt in the palm of her hand, but it felt… incomplete.

  “Not for all the tea in China. You do understand I need all the fragments to summon Cecilie and get the potion you want Maksim to have, right?”

  Austmathr clasped his hands behind his back, the long skirt of his robe flaring as he took long strides back and forth, spinning in dramatic circles as he paced one way, then the other.

  “And what makes you think I haven’t given you all of them?”

  “Because I’m not a moron.”

  Austmathr continued to strut around with his nose up in the air, his lips pursed, silent because she hadn’t asked him a question.

  Kerrigan heaved a sigh, done with playing games. She could summon Cecilie with one small piece of her spirit missing.

  It was likely to result in Cecilie being a complete and utter psychopath, but Etienne wouldn’t know the difference, and as soon as they were finished, Kerrigan would make sure Cecilie could finally rest in peace.

  “You’re going to withhold the final piece and attempt to make a deal with me, aren’t you?”

  Austmathr smiled a serpentine grin, and she was surprised that a forked tongue didn’t slither out from between his lip.

  “Set my sp
irit free, and I will tell you which of my sons is responsible for betraying Maksim and for defiling your mind.”

  Kerrigan ran her tongue across her teeth with a slow nod, completely unsurprised by this turn of events. She honestly hadn’t expected Maksim’s maker to stick to their deal.

  In fact, Kerrigan had already decided to separate the black diamond Austmathr was already bound to, and stick it in the spirit trap. It would be a pretty bauble inside an ugly bottle that would be buried in concrete as soon as Kerrigan got back to the coven.

  With that in mind, she simply said, “No.”

  Austmathr made an elegant gesture to accompany his snake-like smirk. “Then I will not give you the last of Cecilie’s spirit.”

  Before saying anything else, Kerrigan held up her hands, looking at the dull gray ashes painted on her skin. Not even so much as a twilight sparkle.

  Aussie didn’t have shit to be bargaining with and turned her hands so Austmathr could see the unresponsive sigils.

  “You don’t have the last piece to give. Guess that means no deal.” His smile turned a bit brittle around the edges, the smugness fading from his sneer.

  Kerrigan didn’t give him the opportunity to answer, sighing in relief because she didn’t have to do this with him anymore.

  Kerrigan turned around and started back up the path, not at all surprised when the master vampire called out with a mocking laugh,

  “Where are you going? We’re not done here!”

  “Yes,” she replied happily. “We are.”

  “Without the final piece, you won’t be able to summon Cecilie!” Austmathr reminded her in a remarkably superior tone.

  Her stride didn’t falter, not even a little bit. Kerrigan stared straight ahead at the gleaming black marble staircase, waiting to lead her up and out of the spirit realm forever.

  “It’s no longer your concern. Thank you for your help, Austmathr. We won’t be meeting again. I’ll do everything in my power to see Maksim is where he belongs.”

  With every step she took, the pocket of magic she’d created to hunt for Maksim’s spirit, the observation tunnel through the aquarium of the spirit realm, began to collapse.

  The sound of stone crumbling as her folly cracked and broke apart was almost loud enough to drown out Austmathr’s last warning.

  “If you do not set me free, you will never find the daywalking potion!”

  Kerrigan shrugged, half-way up the path now. “I guess you should have thought about that before deciding to break our deal. If I don’t have the last of Cecilie, I can’t summon her, which means the location of the potion and the book will remain lost forever, and you’ll spend eternity bound to an unbreakable diamond. I don’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

  “You think Etienne won’t come after you? That my progeny won’t break into your little fortress to steal the gem with Cecilie’s soul and the jar of her ashes? There will always be another desperate witch, Kerrigan!”

  His cruel, cutting attempt to hurt her feelings was cute. It really was. “Aussie, that couldn’t be more true, but unfortunately, I’ve already made sure no one but me can touch the sapphire or the jar of ashes. If they do, both items will disappear forever. Lost, just like the potion.”

  “YOU WILL SET ME FREE, OR I WILL HAUNT YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAYS!” Austmathr howled brutally, pushing at the barrier that separated them, clawing, tearing, raking his fingernails across the veil that so quickly folded in on itself.

  His hands slid down the surface like it was made of polished marble, and from her periphery, she saw nothing but a wild-eyed monster stalking alongside her.

  “We are bound together by blood! Blood of my progeny! Every time you speak my name, you give me power! I will stalk your dreams, be the architect of your worst nightmares, and rain untold destruction down upon you! I will find a way!”

  Kerrigan stepped off the path and into the solid safety of her own mind, not bothering to stop before she began her climb back up to consciousness.

  “Bring it on, princess.”

  The sound of his terrible threats and dire warnings of all the painful ways in which he would make her suffer got lost in the earsplitting crack of her mind separating from the etheric plane, and just before the portal closed forever, she heard Austmathr’s final words.

  “There will be consequences for this, witch! Do you have any idea who I am?”

  Opening her eyes, Kerrigan once again found herself back in the office.

  Maksim pushed off the wall where he’d been leaning, coming to her as soon as she raised her gaze to him.

  “Why do they always ask that?” she muttered, taking the hand he held out to help her stand.

  “Ask what?”

  She stretched her neck from side to side, holding up her fist to mimic Austmathr’s rage, “Do you know who I am? I mean, come on, of course I know. I summoned the guy.”

  Maks gave a wry smirk and lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. “I take it more threats were made?”

  “Oh, yeah. Dirty bugger couldn’t find the last piece of Cecilie’s soul, so he tried to barter another deal with me to set him free. As if.”

  Still, there wasn’t any reason to discard the idea that one or more of Maksim’s brothers would break in to steal the sapphire.

  She tucked it into its little velvet bag and slid the pouch into her boot. Just in case. “I told Veda she could watch me seal the spirit bottle.”

  Excitement flared in Maksim’s eyes. “You’re ready, then?”

  “Mmhm, I already collapsed the bubble into the spirit realm I made.”

  “Without that final piece, can you even summon Cecilie?”

  Kerrigan smiled slowly, picturing Etienne’s expression when he came face to face with a malevolent, crazed spirit.

  “Yes. Etienne didn’t specify in our contract that she had to be sane, just that I summon her. The Devil’s in the details, after all.”

  Maksim chuckled as he followed her out into the living room.

  “Indeed, it is, love.”

  “I need to see a ghost about a secret,” Kerrigan announced on her way to wash her hands.

  “I thought you just collapsed the bubble?” Maksim called after her in confusion.

  “I don’t need it. Quentin Van Horn is already in the building waiting. All I have to do is make the call, and he’ll pick up the phone.”

  Kerrigan leaned over the sink and washed the ash from her hands, unable to keep the smile of wicked anticipation from her face as she muttered,

  “Ring, ring.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “By the way, did Thomas say why the vampire council wants to meet with you?”

  Maksim reached out to push the elevator button, rubbing his thumb up and down the fine bones of Kerrigan’s wrist.

  “I suspect for the same reason they wished to meet with me before I disappeared.”

  “Which was?”

  Maks shrugged, remembering being about as eager as a man facing the gallows to meet with the council twelve years ago.

  He’d rather have his eyes gouged out again rather than sit through an evening of circular discussions about why it was in everyone’s best interest for Armistice to become exclusively under council control.

  “Fifteen years ago, the council’s war general was killed in a freak accident. The council took their time searching for his replacement and came to the conclusion that no one does war better than Armistice.”

  “If they make you the offer again, will you take it?” Kerrigan asked curiously.

  Maks gave it a passing thought, but in truth, he didn’t want to do anything that would take time away from being with her. So much had been stolen from them already.

  “I’ve been away too long. Taking the pulse of all the vast political intrigues going on around us… it’s a daunting burden I’m not certain I am prepared or willing to shoulder.”

  “Understandable.” The elevator came to a gentle stop, a chime announced their arrival to the thirty-first fl
oor, and the doors opened with a soft hiss to reveal Hector waiting on the other side.

  Immediately, Maksim pushed Kerrigan behind him and braced to take down his much larger brother and ruin another suit in the process, but Hector only held his hands up in peace and said, “Isaiah is here.”

  *****

  “What in God’s name are you doing, Hector?” Maksim demanded.

  After being hustled into a small antechamber at Hector’s urging, Kerrigan was pretty curious herself. She didn’t know the guy, but the hyper-vigilant manner in which he looked around constantly as though expecting to be overrun by enemies was somewhat unnerving.

  He even went so far as to whip out a metal-detecting wand as soon as they passed the threshold.

  “Nae time fer questions,” Hector insisted. “Put yer arms out.” When Maks didn’t immediately obey, Hector whacked Maksim on the arm with the flat black wand.

  Hector’s eyebrows went up, his eyes bulged, anger and annoyance plain on his face, his expression demanding Maks comply.

  Kerrigan felt sure Maksim raised his arms more out of curiosity than anything else, turning around at Hector’s barked order to do so.

  “Now you, girly.”

  “Hector—” Maksim warned and was rudely shushed.

  “Haud yer wheesht! I’m nae gonna hurt yer witch.” Kerrigan put her arms up and let Hector give her a thorough wanding, finding it rather funny to see a nearly seven foot tall man heave a huge sigh of relief when the wand made no abnormal beeps or chirps. “Alrigh’, yer both clean.”

  Maksim gave his elder brother a scathing glare, but before he could open his mouth, Hector lifted an enormous hand and pointed threateningly at him.

  “I will slap the fangs outta yer mouth. Shut. Up. We’ve got about five minutes before Aubin sends his goons up here tae find oot why the cameras are nae working.”

  “Why are the cameras not working?” Maksim drawled, barely batting a lash when Hector once again raised his fist threateningly.

  Kerrigan cleared her throat in warning, but Hector only glanced sideways at her with a brave sneer before putting it down.