Deadly Vows

by Arthur, Keri

  “Not when one has you in their life.”

  I snorted and would have nudged him if not for the fact it would have spilled the rather full cups of hot chocolate. “Then what do you want—”

  I stopped as bells chimed, a sound that was accompanied by a wash of rainbow light. Then magic stirred, and my gut clenched.

  It wasn’t any old magic.

  It was dark magic.

  “What’s wrong?”

  My gaze met Aiden’s. “I placed an alarm around the Manananggal’s tracking spell—it just activated. She’s on her way.”

  He swore softly and pushed to his feet. “What do we need to do?”

  I thrust a hand through my hair. “We need to call Monty, but I’m not sure he’ll get here before her.”

  He frowned. “Can’t you cage her until he does get here? You’ve done it with other demons.”

  “Her awareness of my presence makes it more difficult.”

  “Or it may act as an enticement—remember, she’s tried to kill you twice now.”

  “True.”

  I twisted around and studied the now alive tracking spell sitting on a bookshelf. An idea stirred… probably a bad idea, but right now we were out of options. She was closing in fast, if the quickening pulse of the tracker was anything to go by.

  “I know that look,” Aiden said. “I’m not going to like what you’re about to suggest.”

  A smile tugged my lips. “Possibly not.”

  He made a low growly sound. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to grab the salt and run a line across the bottom of the stairs. Then I want you to go upstairs and run a line along all the window sills up there.”

  “While you’re doing what?”

  “I’ll be creating two circles in the middle of your living room—one to protect me, the other to snare her. When she’s caught, you’re going to shoot her fucking brains out.”

  “I’m liking the sound of that last part; the rest, however—” He stopped, then kissed me fiercely. “I know I keep saying this, but please be careful.”

  “I’ve never left a good hot chocolate unfinished, Ranger. I’m not about to start now.”

  He laughed softly, then kissed my forehead and headed toward the pantry. I followed him across to grab a butcher knife from the wooden block near the stove. Then, with a deep breath that did little to settle the uncertainty churning within, I sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room and carefully placed the Manananggal’s spell in front of me. The knife I tucked behind me; it was a last means of protection, and one I hoped I didn’t have to use.

  But for this trap to have any hope of working, I had to appear weak. Vulnerable.

  After removing the alarm spell from the tracker, I closed my eyes, centered my energy, and set to work. I started on the outer ring first, creating my cage, keeping the threads tightly woven and pushing as much strength into them as I could. Hopefully, it would hold long enough for Aiden to shoot her.

  The tracking spell’s threads pulsed with greater intensity. She was close, so damn close. My heart hammered so hard, I swear it was going to tear out of my chest. I sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm down. Panic wasn’t going to help me; it would only help the bitch who, even now, was swooping down from storm-held skies.

  I began the protection spell. I didn’t have my spell stones with me, but Ashworth had taught me how to create one without using anything as an anchor. It wasn’t the strongest of spells—at least, it wasn’t for me, thanks to the lack of practice—but it didn’t need to be.

  Once the circle had shimmered into existence, there was nothing I could do but wait.

  Seconds slipped into minutes. My breath was a harsh rasp that filled the silence; though Aiden was perched midway up the stairs, he was barely visible in the darkness and ghostly quiet. I felt alone, even if I wasn’t.

  This time…

  I ignored the intuition. One problem at a time.

  An odd scratching sound had my gaze jumping back to the front door. A shadow passed across the wall of glass. A shadow that was winged and half formed.

  The Manananggal.

  I swallowed heavily and cast a warning glance to Aiden. He raised his gun in readiness, something I sensed more than saw.

  Again the shadow passed across the glass. She knew I was in here. Knew I was waiting for her.

  Tension curled through me, and I flexed my fingers. It didn’t help.

  Her shadow appeared again, but this time she paused. Her eyes were ruby orbs that glowed with hunger and anger. Bile rose, and I swallowed heavily. If she didn’t damn well hurry up, she might just be met by the contents of my stomach rather than magic.

  She pressed a clawed hand against the door; the lock tumbled, and the door clicked open. Magic. I hadn’t even felt it.

  Her gaze swept the room, no doubt searching for traps. I hadn’t yet activated my cage, but I couldn’t help wondering if she’d sense it anyway. Some of the more powerful witches certainly could.

  For several seconds, she didn’t move. She simply hovered midair, the long, slow sweeps of her wings making her entrails slap lightly against the glass on either side of the door.

  Eventually, she moved in. The force of her energy stung my skin and had the hairs at the nape of my neck rising. And her scent… rotten meat smelled sweet by comparison. She was putrid.

  I switched to breathing through my mouth, but it didn’t help any. The smell coated my throat and made my stomach churn harder.

  She paused again, her gaze coming to rest on the salt lining the base of the stairs. “That little line of white does not deter me.”

  Her voice was so harsh it hurt my ears. “Then cross it if you wish.”

  “I do not wish.” She studied me, her eyes little more than narrow red slits. “You seek to trap.”

  “No, I seek to kill.”

  Her smile flashed, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. “So do I.”

  And with that, she attacked. Not physically, but magically. In little more than a heartbeat, she’d peeled back my protection spell to the point of collapse. I threw out a hand, pushing more energy into it. The threads stretched to breaking point but somehow held.

  The force of her attack increased. The threads of my magic were pulsing, thinning in stress, but I fought the instinctive need to shore it up. I needed her to think she was winning. Needed her to come closer… just one more meter. That’s all I needed.

  I closed my eyes, silently prayed that luck was on my side, and then let my protection shield fall. She laughed harshly and darted forward. I grabbed the knife, pushed backward, and activated the cage. It swept up and around her, surrounding her in an instant. She hit the fabric of its walls and screamed, tearing at the threads with her claws even as her magic began to pick and pull at them.

  “Now, Aiden!”

  He fired. Bullets ripped into her body but somehow bounced off her head. What the hell…?

  I narrowed my gaze and saw the shimmer of magic around her skull. She was shielded, which likely meant the only way to kill her while separated like this was to get through that spell.

  But how?

  Holy water, Belle said. It counters evil.

  I’ve never heard of it countering a protection spell, I replied, even as I scrambled for my purse.

  You don’t need it to—weaken her, and you’ll weaken her protective magic.

  I wasn’t sure the solitary vial I kept in my purse for emergencies would be enough to do that, but it wasn’t as if I had any other options or ideas. I unzipped the purse’s inner pocket and pulled the holy water free. The Manananggal was now ripping long threads of my magic free; it felt like she was ripping into me. My body shuddered and shook with every blow.

  I screwed the top off the vial and then said, “Aiden, fire when this water hits her.”

  “Will do.”

  I spun and ran back. My cage was flickering, failing, the threads of the spell barely clinging together. She screamed wh
en she saw me and lashed out. Her claws cut through the magic and hooked the edge of my dress. She screamed again and dragged me closer; her tongue flicked out, snake-like and needle sharp. I jerked my face back but felt a sting as one forked tip slid across my cheek. As warmth tricked to my chin, I raised the vial and threw the holy water at her face.

  It hit her eyes, her mouth and her tongue; the response was instantaneous. Her skin began to bubble and steam, and her eyes exploded, splashing blood and God knows what else across my face. Even as I gagged and fell back, several shots echoed, hitting the Manananggal, spraying blood and gore and brains across the nearby wall.

  Her screaming stopped, and she collapsed to the floor, lifeless and silent except for the bubbling hiss of the holy water still reacting against her skin.

  I drew in a deep breath and dropped to my knees. Fuck, that was close…

  That, Belle said heavily, has become an unsettling theme when it comes to demonic events around here. You okay?

  Yeah. I wiped a hand across my cheek; my fingers came away smeared with red. The cut wasn’t gushing, so at least that was something. I raised the small vial and saw there was a little bit of holy water left; just enough to sterilize the cut.

  Aiden knelt in front of me and caught my chin, raising it to inspect the wound. “Do we need to sterilize that?”

  “Undoubtedly.” I gave him the small vial. “Pour the rest of this over it.”

  I tilted my head to make it easier. He carefully dribbled the water over the wound; it stung like blazes for several seconds before easing off.

  “Is that it?” He quickly scanned the rest of me. “Your dress is shredded, but I can’t smell any blood.”

  “Because there isn’t any.” I glanced down. “Shame about the dress though. I really liked it.”

  “Better the dress than you.” He caught my hands, then rose and tugged me up with him. “Do you want to head up to bed? I’ll deal with this mess.”

  “It might be wise to call in Monty. He can make sure it’s safe to move her body.”

  “She’s not likely to resurrect… is she?”

  “I doubt it.” I hesitated and glanced at the Manananggal. There were few supernatural creatures that could survive having their face eaten away by holy water, let alone having their skull shot apart, but this particular one could live without half its damn body. “I don’t suppose you have a couple of wooden stakes hanging about, do you?”

  His eyebrows rose. “No, but I could get them easily enough. Will any old wood do, or do you need something specific?”

  “Ash is preferable, if there’s a tree nearby.”

  “There is. Won’t be long.”

  As Aiden headed out, I grabbed my phone and called Monty.

  “What’s happened?” he said without preamble.

  “The Manananggal made a surprise visit to Aiden’s. She’s now dead, but I was wondering if you could come out and supervise her removal.”

  “Dead? Damn. Missed the fun again. How’d you kill her?”

  “A mix of holy water and bullets.”

  “And you’re sure she’s dead?”

  “She ain’t moving, but we’re going to stake her with ash, just in case.”

  “Good idea. I’ll be there in ten.”

  My eyebrows rose. “You’re already in Argyle?”

  “Close to. Belle rang and demanded I get my butt over to Aiden’s because you were about to be attacked. She just didn’t mention by what.”

  Meaning he must have been in the area anyway, because even if he’d broken all land speed records, he couldn’t have gotten to Argyle from Castle Rock in such a short amount of time.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he added, and hung up.

  Aiden returned with several branches of ash. Once they were cleaned and sharpened, he said, “How many stakes do we actually need?”

  “If she’s a distant relative of the vampire, then one should be enough. But I’d use them all, just to be safe.”

  He nodded and did the grisly deed, shoving one stake into her heart and the rest into her chest. I watched through narrowed eyes, but there was no reaction and there surely would have been if there’d been any life left in her.

  Relief stirred, its force so strong my knees threatened to collapse. Aiden caught me and tugged me close.

  “Why don’t you go up to bed,” he said softly. “It’s going to take me a while to deal with this mess.”

  “Monty’s only a few minutes away. Wait for him to get here, just in case you need magical help.” I rose on to my toes and quickly kissed him. “This is not how I’d hoped the night would end.”

  “Me neither.” His quick smile was rueful. “But there’s always the morning.”

  “There’d better be, or I may just scream.”

  I kissed him again, this time with all the frustrated hunger that still burned within, then headed upstairs for a shower.

  I didn’t hear Monty arrive. I had no idea what time Aiden slipped into bed and gathered me in his arms.

  But the morning, when it finally arrived, was glorious.

  * * *

  It was late the following afternoon when the phone rang, and it was another unknown number. I hit the answer button and said, somewhat tentatively, “Lizzie Grace speaking.”

  “Elizabeth, it’s your mother.”

  My heart skipped a beat and then started to race. “What can I do for you, Mother?”

  “It’s your father. He’s been shot.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Is he alive?” I might not want my father in my life, but I’d never wanted him dead. Despite everything, he was still my parent.

  “Yes. Lawrence set a new perimeter alarm spell around his office, and while the thief managed to slip past the other spells, he missed that one.”

  Which suggested the thief might have been familiar with the placement of the other spells, but not the new one. It also meant the new spell had probably given my father enough time to throw himself sideways but not to raise a retaliatory or protective spell. “Was the shooter caught?”

  “No. But it wasn’t Clayton, if that’s what you’re thinking. He was across the other side of town, at an official gathering.”

  I snorted. “It’s not hard to hire a killer, Mother. Not if you have the right connections.”

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t know.” It was somewhat stiffly said. “And I’m sure Clayton wouldn’t know, either.”

  She was severely underestimating Clayton’s slip into madness, but I didn’t bother saying so. Like my father, she’d known him for too long—she still saw the man she’d known rather than the one he’d become.

  “How did the shooter escape?”

  It was odd that he had, especially given that, despite them being two of the strongest witches in Canberra, they’d always had security guards on the front and back gates—and those guards were generally of mixed blood, meaning they were at least sensitive to magic even if they couldn’t perform it.

  “Via a spell, as far as we can ascertain.”

  I frowned. “The guards would have sensed a concealment spell.”

  “He wasn’t concealed. It was something else.”

  “What?”

  She hesitated. “At this moment, we’re not sure.”

  My frown deepened. “Why not? Surely a spell strong enough to allow the shooter to slip past the security net would have left some sort of signature behind.”

  “It should have. It didn’t.”

  “Meaning we’re dealing with a blueblood.” A very powerful blueblood. Like Clayton.

  “Possibly,” she said. “The High Council has placed their top investigators on the case.”

  “Father couldn’t tell you what sort of spell it was?”

  “No. As I said, he’d been shot.”

  “But he’s obviously not dead.”

  “He underwent emergency surgery and is currently sedated. It’ll be a few days before anyone can speak to him.”

  Meaning the gunshot
wound really had been serious. Guilt stirred; I should have felt a little more concern…

  Why? came Belle’s comment, especially after what he did to you?

  He’s still my father—

  So? A blood relationship doesn’t automatically trigger love or respect. It has to be earned, and he certainly hasn’t.

  While that was totally true, it didn’t in any way ease that wash of guilt. “When did the shooting occur?”

  “A day after their meeting with you.”

  The edge of accusation in her voice had anger stirring. “If you think I had anything to do—”

  “No, no, of course not,” she said hastily. “But the investigators do want to speak to—”

  “Why?”

  “It’s routine—they’re interviewing anyone who’d had contact with him in the preceding twenty-four hours.”

  “Then I hope they’re intending to speak to Clayton,” I retorted. “I know you think otherwise, but I’d bet everything I own on the fact he’s behind this.”

  “I believe they intend to. The trouble is, he’s currently unavailable.”

  My heart did several more skips. “Unavailable? Or gone?”

  “That is another unknown.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Only a few hours ago.”

  “You promised to ring me—”

  “Which is exactly what I’m doing.” Her voice was sharp. “I was with your father all day yesterday; I wasn’t aware Clayton had disappeared until one of the investigators rang for an update on your father’s condition.”

  “Has a locator spell been initiated?”

  “Yes, with no success—though that in itself is not surprising.”

  Not when most powerful witches were well able to counter such spells. “Did he fly out? Did the investigators check flight records?”

  “They checked. He didn’t. And Rafael remains at Clayton’s residence.”

  Clayton didn’t hold a driver’s license; Rafael had been his chauffer for as long as I could remember. “It’s easy enough to hire another driver.”

  “I believe all local companies were checked. He hasn’t approached any of them.”