Blue-Blooded Vamp
Zen frowned and pulled back to get a good look at her assistant. “How?”
Brooks took a deep breath and prepared to make his case. “I’m doing a banishment and equalizer spell,” he began. “I figured if we ask Ogun to intercede on our behalf, then the Law of Three wouldn’t apply.”
I held up a hand. “Can someone translate that for the voodoo challenged?”
Zen sighed. “It’s a spell that asks the holy one to protect you and also punish one who’s done you wrong. The Law of Three dictates that whatever magical energy you put out into the universe will return threefold. Thus, if you curse someone, you’re inviting three times bad karma to your door. But in this case, Brooks is invoking the warrior god Ogun to do the dirty work so he won’t experience any bad karma after.”
“And what’s gopher dust, exactly?” I asked.
“Goofer dust, Sabina,” Adam corrected.
Ever since our brief stint in New Orleans, Adam had started a casual study of basic voodoo in his spare time. His interest was merely academic, though. To a mage with inherent magic, the human practices were merely a curiosity.
I nodded impatiently. “Okay, what’s goofer dust?”
“It’s used in spells meant to cause suffering. There’s lots of stuff in it, but the two main ingredients are snake skin and graveyard dirt.”
“Sounds like a Chthonic spell,” I said, referring to my own magical specialty.
In mage terms, Chthonic magic dealt with primordial powers like sex and death. Powers that were strongest in deathy places, like graveyards. In addition, snakes were powerful Chthonic symbols.
“Similar.” Zen nodded. “Brooks is basically asking a god to use death magic on Cain.”
“Awesome, right?” Giguhl said.
I sighed. “Guys, I appreciate your support, but Cain is my problem.”
Giguhl pursed his lips. “Correction: Cain is our problem. All of us.”
I grimaced. He was right, of course. Especially since, as my minion, he kind of had to go to Italy since that’s where I was headed.
“If we do this spell, you guys won’t need to go anywhere,” Brooks said. “You can stay here, where it’s safe.”
I exchanged a look with Adam. While the demon’s and the faery’s hearts were in the right place, their methods could spell disaster for all of us. “But if the spell backfires, it would put all of us in danger,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Zen said.
“Whoever kills Cain will reap the punishment sevenfold,” Adam explained. “That means if Brooks’s plan to ask Ogun to take the heat for the death doesn’t work, he and six of his nearest and dearest will die, which I assume includes you, Zen, as well as this guy.” He jerked a thumb toward Giguhl.
“But Ogun will absorb the karmic fallout,” Brooks said. “Right, Zen?”
The voodooienne chewed her bottom lip, obviously weighing her words. “I’m not sure Brooks has enough experience to control Ogun’s powers to ensure the spell will work… but I do.”
Brooks gasped. “You’ll do it?”
Zen shrugged. “Even though I don’t normally approve of this sort of magic, some situations require some moral flexibility. If asking Ogun to intercede will protect you guys, I’ll do it.”
I held up my hands to stall Brooks’s victory dance and spoke to Zen. “Trust me, the price you’ll have to pay to the god to do this for you will be steeper than you’re willing to pay. I speak from experience.” I couldn’t imagine what a war god would demand in exchange for killing Cain, but I had a feeling it would be a hundred times worse than Asclepius’s demands.
Zen went still at my comment and Giguhl’s eyes narrowed, like he was about to demand an explanation. I rushed ahead to avoid muddying the conversation with a rehash of the Asclepius situation.
“Look, guys, we appreciate why you’re trying to do this. Really. But it’s not going to fix anything. We have a plan and we’re going to manage the risk as much as possible.”
“She’s right,” Adam said. “If we thought magic would solve this problem, we would have already tried it. Trust me.”
Giguhl sighed. “They might be right, Brooks.”
“Wait a second,” the Changeling said. “The rule about killing Cain applies to you, too, right? So we could all die anyway.”
I hesitated. “Yeah.”
“But that’s why we’re going to Italy,” Adam jumped in to explain. “According to Erron, there’s a mage there who knows Cain better than anyone. We’re hoping Abel can help us find a way to stop him without any of us dying.”
Brooks’s shoulders slumped. “Well, shit.”
Giguhl shot his friend a disappointed frown. “Sorry, dude. We tried.”
Brooks picked up the gaudy doll and looked it over. “I just hate for this to go to waste. It’s some of my best work.” He fingered the sequins longingly.
Zen patted the faery on the shoulder. “Actually, we might be able to use it after all.”
Brooks and Giguhl perked up. “Really?” they said in unison.
She nodded. “Anybody in the mood to craft a good vexing spell?”
Brooks rubbed his hands together. “Now you’re talking.”
“And while we’re at it, we’ll whip up some protection amulets for the three of you.”
“Hold on,” I asked in a wary tone. “What exactly does a vexing spell do?” I trusted Zen, but I didn’t want to take any chances on complicating our situation any more than it already was.
“The one I have in mind causes a severe case of anal itching.” While Adam and I blinked in shock, she turned and smirked at Giguhl and Brooks. “You in?”
The demon and the faery faced each other with wicked grins before turning back to Zen and announcing in unison, “Abso-fucking-lutely!”
Chapter 4
After we escaped the voodoo party, Adam and I closed ourselves in the attic apartment. He locked the door behind us with a decisive flick of his wrist. Judging from the heat the mancy was shooting at me, sleep was the last thing on his mind.
“So”—he began sidling toward me—“you were saying something about makeup sex?”
I laughed out loud. Leave it to a male to skip a postmortem about aborted voodoo rituals and the impending suicide mission everyone thought we were about to undertake when sex was on the line. Although, now that I thought about it, with everything going on maybe it was the perfect excuse to grab the time we had by the reins and ride it for all it was worth.
I crooked my finger at him. “Come closer and I’ll tell you.”
Two hours later, I fell onto the mattress. Sweat soaked my skin and my muscles felt like gelatin.
“Am I forgiven?” Adam said, nipping at my shoulder.
Lethargy pulled at me. The physical exertion of our lovemaking combined with the emotional stress of the last few days left me feeling hollow and dried out. Sex with Adam had ignited my bloodlust and my fangs throbbed hotly against my gums. I needed blood more than I needed air, but I’d be damned if I let Adam know that. I didn’t want to ruin our postmakeup-sex bliss with a reminder of why we’d fought in the first place.
So, when I smiled at my mage, I did so with a closed mouth. And when I spoke, I turned my head slightly, so he wouldn’t catch the telltale flash of fang. “If this is what happens after we fight, I might have to piss you off more often.”
Gentle fingers grasped my chin and turned my face toward him. I clamped my lips closed, but he ran a gentle thumb across them. No way he missed the telling bumps. “You need blood.”
My tongue felt like sandpaper in my mouth. My stomach cramped. I considered lying, but what was the use? “You’re not wrong,” I said carefully.
Adam leaned down and placed a kiss on my parched lips. He leaned back a fraction to look in my eyes. I could feel the indecision coming off him in hot waves. Before he could say anything, I decided to let him off the hook. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just hit the butcher shop tomorrow or something. I’ll be fine.”
He tilted his head and gave me a dubious scowl. “Liar.”
I sighed. “Adam, it’s fine. Really. I don’t expect you to get over your issues about being my blood source this fast. I know it’s not easy for you.” As I raised a hand to cup his cheek, his eyes flicked to my fingers, where a consistent tremor gave away my lie.
“Red, I’m not saying that I’m looking to be your convenient blood dispenser, but I’d be a real bastard to deny you when you’re so clearly in need. Let me help you.”
My fangs sprang fully from my gums and my core spasmed with an aftershock. Still, I considered refusing. The last time I’d fed from Adam, we’d had that huge fight and our relationship barely survived it. But his expression was so open, so earnest. He was offering himself despite his misgivings. It felt… well, not right, exactly, but like progress.
“You’re sure?” I rasped.
He nodded. “I’m sure about you. About us. I trust you and I love you. Let me help.”
My eyes stung. A small, petty voice deep inside told me I didn’t deserve him. Another voice, this one louder, told that one to shut the hell up. This is what couples did, after all—helped each other. Healed each other’s wounds.
Besides, his sweet blood called to me.
“Okay.” I swallowed nervously, my throat clicking. “I promise I’ll only take what I need.”
He looked me in the eye and said, “I trust you.”
He didn’t lie back submissively. Instead, he kissed me once, twice, before leaning over and offering me his neck. Lifting my head was a challenge, but my fangs popped out, making up the distance. I didn’t want to hurt him more than necessary, so I kissed his neck. Licked it to prepare for the sting. He moaned softy—whether he enjoyed the sensation or was simply anxious for me to begin, I didn’t know. Regardless, I finally scraped over the spot, a little scratch to warn him. And then, quickly, I thrust into his vein.