Don't Hex and Drive

“No shit,” snapped Violet. “I mean, who asked you?”

“Evie.”

“Stop being rude, Violet,” said Evie, standing from Mateo’s lap. “Nico is now my cousin-in-law.”

“Y’all aren’t married,” she accused, scowling at her.

Mateo stood and spread a hand on Evie’s hip from behind her. “Not yet,” he said evenly.

“Sorry if my presence bothers you,” crooned Nico. His voice was the stuff of fantasies. His smoldering grin tipped his mouth up wickedly.

“No, you’re not,” Violet said, scowling.

“Not one bit.” He bit his bottom lip, seeming to enjoy her displeasure and staring at Violet like she was the main course.

This wasn’t the first or even the second time these two had been caught bickering and snapping at each other. And even though Violet was frowning, she seemed to get some kind of strange satisfaction engaging with him this way. Something was definitely going on with these two, even if my most stubborn sister pretended otherwise.

Violet turned in a little huff toward the front of the serving line where Jules was setting a giant ladle. At least it took all the attention off me, and that’s all I cared about.

What I also couldn’t help caring about was the way Devraj had gone uncharacteristically quiet. He didn’t try to talk to me the rest of the night, and I tried not to stare at him and worry about that pensive look of pain marking his beautiful face. And the fact that I was fairly positive I’d put it there.

Needless to say, though conversation and laughter flowed around the table, it was the worst Sunday dinner ever. But it was for the best. I was sure of it. Kind of.

Chapter 20

~DEVRAJ~

I sat in my car in the hospital parking lot obsessing over the picture of Isadora on her profile on the fucking dating app, Zapp. Her sister, who’d taken her picture, had captured her so perfectly I felt a pinch in my chest when I looked at it. I was rubbing my sternum, hoping the pain would go away as I analyzed every line and curve of her face and figure.

She wore a white, sleeveless dress brushing just above her knees, her long tan legs accentuating her lean beauty. There were gold bangle bracelets adorning both wrists, her sun-kissed skin smooth and beautiful. She was caught mid-laugh, her green eyes bright, the sun right behind her head, which lit her flowing blond hair on fire, wisps picked up by the wind. One strand crossed one eye and cheek. The sunlight behind her silhouetted her long legs that could be seen through the sheer cotton. Dangling from the fingers of one hand was a yellow wildflower, one of the many surrounding her in the field at her feet.

She was breathtaking. Literally. I rubbed at my chest again, finding it hard to get enough air.

The piercing sting of this profile pic proved she wanted to date. Just not me.

Was I wrong in the attraction I sensed from her? Was it one-sided? I knew it wasn’t. Even at The Green Light, her pulse raced when I pulled her into my arms on the dancefloor. She couldn’t fake her body’s reaction, the subtle nuances I was so sensitive to as an experienced vampire. The tripping of her pulse, the labored breathing, the dilation of her pretty green eyes.

And yet, here was proof she wasn’t interested in my company.

Her words at The Green Light had stung. And maybe she was right to a certain degree. We did move in different circles, lived in different worlds. But I wanted her in mine. Or maybe I’d give up mine to be in hers. I don’t know. All I knew was that after three hundred years, I’d never felt this sort of obsessive attraction toward a woman. And what she didn’t know was that I could be patient. And tenacious.

I growled, staring down at her profile. She’d checked off every box for the supernaturals she was interested in dating. No, Isadora wouldn’t discriminate. That should make me proud that she was so open-minded, but all I could think of was the giant goddamn dating pool she’d just opened up. They’d be coming in droves for her.

Her profile was brief, but very telling.

Interests: good food, gardening, cute dogs

Turn-ons: intelligence, humor, maturity

Turn-offs: selfishness

Absolute musts: To be local and rooted in New Orleans.

Ah. There it was. That last line explained so much. New Orleans wasn’t my home. She knew that Stygorn moved often. Knew that I rarely stayed in one place, too.

And cute dogs? She didn’t even own a dog. Why not?

A rap on my window snapped me out of my heartsick daze. Ruben stood there, a confused expression and smirk on his face. He’d glanced at my phone in my lap. I opened the door and slipped the phone in my pants pocket.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his gaze flicking to my phone. “I figured you’d already be up there.”

“Just checking something.”

“Mmm,” was Ruben’s all-knowing response. “If you’d gone up, you’d be able to ogle the real thing rather than her picture on your phone.”

“She’s here?” I didn’t even try to deny the fact I was stalking her online.

He dipped his chin and headed for the side entrance to the hospital yet again.

“Jules phoned me half an hour ago to make sure my guys knew she was coming with Isadora.”

“So what are you doing here?”

He gave me one of those mind-your-own-business looks. Which never worked on me. “Just checking up on things.”

“You could do that from the comfort of your home,” I noted as we entered near the stairwell and nodded to the vampire guard, Roland, in the shadows.

“Shut up, Devraj. You’re one to talk.”

I laughed when he traced up to her hospital room. I did the same, cloaking myself in glamour so the nurses wouldn’t even note the rush of wind as we passed. Gabriel was at the door, also cast in glamour so that no one but vampires might sense him.

I eased into the room behind Ruben, hearing soft feminine voices. The gentle timbre of Isadora’s clutched me in the gut, reminding me how deep this witch had her hooks into me. The funny thing was that I was perfectly okay with being at her mercy. If she only knew, what would she do?

“I can’t thank you enough,” said Emma from the bed.

“You just rest up. You’ll be good enough to go home by tomorrow.”

A subtle glow shimmered on Isadora’s skin, proof she’d been using her Conduit powers heavily. Emma’s gaze shifted to us. And though I’d erased her memory of us last time, she didn’t seem afraid of two strange men entering her room. Probably due to Isadora’s extensive healing, calming her down to her bones.

A Conduit’s power could have a similar effect as an Aura who could transform people’s emotions. A powerful Conduit healing could change the energy make-up of a person so entirely that their whole demeanor changed—calmed and soothed by the witch’s magical shift of earth energy into the human body.

How did I know all of this? Because I’d been doing extensive research on Conduit witches over the past week. Yeah, I had it bad.

Isadora looked over her shoulder, meeting my gaze. Those sweet eyes widened before she turned back to Emma. “We should go. Take care of yourself.”

As she rose, Jules did, too. But as they passed, I reached out a hand and touched Isadora’s forearm, stopping her. “Will you wait a few minutes? We need to talk.”

Her startled gaze shot to mine, her heartbeat spiking.

“I don’t think—”

“About Emma,” I clarified, realizing she thought I wanted to talk about us.

Which I did. But now that I knew why she was pushing me away, I’d have to bide my time and figure this out.

“Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

Jules sidled closer. “We’ll wait in the parking lot downstairs. The nurses won’t understand why we’re lingering.”

Witches couldn’t use glamour like vampires, so they were here as legitimate visitors. I nodded, then they left.

I sat next to Emma, pushing my glamour to engulf her so she wouldn’t panic at my nearness. Even if she didn’t remember what had happened to her, she’d have the residual effects still deep in her memory. Like PTSD, she’d likely be wary of strange men getting too close for a long while.

“Hi, Emma. Can I hold your hand? I just want to take a look.”

“Sure,” she said easily, even smiling, completely entranced.

I swept in quickly this time, hoping to find something new that I might’ve missed. Something that would finger Blake as the man we were looking for. Or one of his entourage. But nothing new. The same memories emerged from her subconscious. Mostly fuzzy. The voice of the man who fed off of her. The sound of a distant church bell still ringing clear. If I could only pinpoint that bell. But there were hundreds in the New Orleans metropolitan area.

When I pulled out of her mind, she was in a deep sleep. I put my palm to her forehead, making sure she wouldn’t remember meeting us this last time. Her spirit felt at ease now, and I wouldn’t jeopardize her sanity or wellbeing by coming again. The human mind was resilient but also fragile. Especially when a supernatural started tampering with it.

I stood. Ruben asked. “Anything new?”

I shook my head. “Let’s go.”

We streaked through the hospital, landing outside in the parking lot beside Jules’s car five seconds later.

Isadora gasped when we appeared beside them. She clutched her chest. “I hate it when y’all do that.”

I couldn’t help but smile. My witch was so sensitive.

My witch. When had I begun to think of her that way? How could I make it a reality? That was all that seemed to consume me these days. And yet, Ruben needed my help. There were other girls still out there in this kidnapper’s captivity. I forced myself to focus. I had an idea of what to do to catch them, but I needed to see if Isadora discovered anything else.

“Sorry,” I told her, restraining a smile at her skittishness. “Did you sense anything else? Something that might tie Blake to Emma?”

She held my gaze, her expression sobering. “No. She’s almost fully healed, though. Physically.”