Curse of Night

by Emily Goodwin

  “I can,” Julian agrees.

  “Now go,” I tell Kristy. “I really want that muffin.”

  She smiles. “Fine. I’ll be right back.”

  I hurry into the office and get a drawer for the cash register as soon as Kristy leaves. A few customers come in right after that, and Julian stands back, watching us curiously. I introduce him as a friend from out of town. A few people in Thorne Hill know I came from the Martins, and saying a random cousin showed up is cutting it too close to the truth.

  The time actually goes by fast, and I feel better once I get some food in me. I call Lucas when we’re leaving right around two in the afternoon and swing by Suzy’s Café to get a burger and fries. I eat half of it in the car on the way home.

  “I can sense Alona,” Julian says as soon as we pull into the driveway. “I will go to her and then come back.” Without another word, he disappears from the car.

  I take my foot off the gas and look at the empty passenger seat. “I so need to learn how to do that.”

  Parking to the side of the house, I grab my takeout bag and head inside.

  “Honey, I’m home!” I call when I get inside. Scarlet comes running, little tail wagging fast. “Yes, I got food for you all.”

  Lucas comes out of the office. “Where’s Feathers?”

  “Talking to another angel. He’ll be back.” I shake my head, eyes wide. “That’s so weird to say.”

  “I still like being able to say I’ve been touched by an angel.” He speeds forward and takes me around the waist. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, thank you.” I rest my hands on his firm chest. “It was nice to get out and not obsess. Though we did strategize a bit.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. And since Julian is gone, want to go upstairs?” He wiggles his eyebrows and presses his hips into mine.

  “After I finish lunch.”

  “Eat fast,” Lucas says with a wink. He squeezes my butt and then goes into the living room, turning on the TV. I tear apart the burger I got for my familiars and Scarlet and then take my food in and sit next to Lucas on the couch.

  I have every intention of having my way with Lucas once I’m done eating, but I’m feeling tired again and rest my head on his shoulder. I’m just about asleep when my phone rings. Groaning, I sit up.

  Lucas gets it for me, frowning when he sees who’s calling. I take the phone from him and know why. It’s Easton.

  “Send the call to voicemail,” Lucas urges. I give him a look and answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Callie. Remember that hunter who tried you kill you at your sister’s house?”

  “Yeah, that’s kind of hard to forget. Though to be honest I haven’t thought about it lately. So maybe it’s not too hard to forget. Why are you asking?”

  “He’s back.”

  Chapter 33

  “What do you mean?” I ask, leaning forward.

  “I haven’t seen him since I questioned him last time, which got us nowhere. He just returned from a hunt with a group of other Order members. They’re all meeting at a hunter club in like an hour. Are, uh, truth spells a real thing?”

  “It’s a potion, not a spell.”

  “Fuck, really?”

  “Yeah,” I answer. “You want to use it on him, don’t you?”

  “I do. The guy knows more than he’s saying. How long does it take you to make some?”

  “Half an hour, probably. Maybe less if Pandora gets everything started.”

  “Your cat can—never mind.”

  “She’s not a cat,” I remind him. “And potions are her specialty. I’ll get the potion started.”

  “Great. I can pick it up in forty-five minutes. I’ve already left the city.”

  “Ohhh,” I say and make a face. “You can’t give it to him. I have to say a spell right before I pour it in whatever I’m hiding the potion in.”

  “Come with me, then. Use a glamour so he won’t recognize you.”

  “To a club full of hunters?” A grin takes over my face. “Heck yes. I’ll see you soon, then.” I end the call and look up at Lucas, expecting him to tell me this is a terrible idea. But he’s smiling, too.

  “I am going to tear the vampire who hired the hunter apart and fuck you in his blood.”

  “Too far, Lucas, too far.” I shudder, actually feeling a little sick just by thinking about rolling around naked in vampire goo.

  “Fucking you in a bloody bed is a fantasy of mine,” he admits with no shame, and I’m sure he’s done just that before with another vampire who enjoyed it as much as he did. He takes my hands in his and pulls me close. “Be careful.”

  “I will be. Hunters can’t sense my magic like you can.”

  “I know.” He rests his head against mine. “I wish I could come with you.”

  “Someday you will be able to. I will figure out how to make it possible for you to walk in the sun.”

  “Don’t worry about that now.” He puts his lips to mine, and I feel all squishy for him. “How can I help you make the potion?”

  A smile pulls up my lips. “I love you, Lucas. So much.”

  I twist open the cap to the ginger ale and take a small sip as I look out at the parking lot. Easton got stuck in traffic on his way out of Chicago, and I’m meeting him halfway to save time since he’d have to backtrack a bit after picking me up.

  “Ugh,” I say, shaking my head. The sick feeling is back in my stomach, and it’s most unwelcome. I never once had the stomach flu in my life, though I have drunk until I’ve puked a time or two.

  Or three…or more.

  I take another drink and lean back, turning up the air conditioning. A few seconds of having cold air blast my face oddly seems to help. My phone dings with a text from Easton, saying he’s in the parking lot. I grab my purse, stick my phone inside, and kill the engine.

  A black Ford truck rolls to a stop in front of the Jeep. Easton waves, and I hurry around, getting into the passenger side.

  “I was afraid you’d come dressed like that,” he says as soon as I close the door.

  I look down at myself. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Black is my color, and I know these jeans fit perfectly. I thought I looked good.”

  Easton presses his lips together, trying hard not to let his eyes wander over my body. “You do,” he relents. “But you don’t look like a hunter.” He reaches into the backseat of his truck and grabs something. “Here. Put these on.”

  “Seriously?” My brows hike up as I take the worn flannel shirt and dirty boots.

  “If I’m going to pass you off as a fellow hunter, you need to look like one. Take off your wedding ring while you’re at it. No hunter could afford a monstrosity like that.”

  “Hey,” I snap and defensively bring my left hand up to my chest. “This thing isn’t—fine, it’s a little over the top.”

  “A little?”

  I make a face and shake my head. “Turn around so I can change.”

  “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he quips, lips pulling up in a smirk.

  “It’s not yours to look at anymore.”

  “Right. You’re owned by a vampire,” he huffs. “I know how they are.”

  “It’s never been like that with Lucas,” I tell him, pulling my arms through the sleeves of my black tunic. “Now turn around before I cast a temporary blindness curse on you.”

  “Fine,” he huffs and turns.

  I quickly change my shirt and put my rings in my wallet. “Thank you,” I say as I pull on the boots. Easton speeds out of the parking lot.

  “We’re friends now,” he says, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at me. “Aren’t we?”

  “We are.” I tug on the boots. They’re a little snug, but it’s nothing I can’t put up with for an hour or so. “Are you sure he’s still going to be there?”

  “If there’s one thing all hunters have in common, it’s their ability to drink themselves under the table. Especially aft
er a hunt. Order members always get together and brag…both about the kill and how much money they made.”

  The Order of the Mystic Realm are demon hunters for hire. Other hunters like Easton, who went into the monster-hunting business because someone they loved got killed by something evil, aren’t the biggest fans of Order members. Hunters like Easton do it out of a sense of duty and are all rather self-righteous, if you ask me.

  “What do you have to do to get the truth potion to work?”

  “I hold the vial like this.” I reach into my purse and pull out a little glass potion vial with a cork stuck in the top. “I say the magic words and then pour it in his drink.”

  “And he’ll have to speak the truth?”

  “The whole truth and nothing but the truth. It lasts about an hour,” I say, knowing he’s about to ask.

  “And the glamour?”

  “I’ve already cast it.”

  Easton looks at me, narrowing his eyes. “It’s not working.”

  “It is.”

  “No, you look like you.”

  I smirk. “That’s how it works.”

  “What?”

  I flick my fingers and telekinetically turn down the volume of the country music Easton was listening to. “I appear as you want me to appear. You were expecting me, so I appeared as myself. So I go up and talk to this asshole, he’ll see me as he wants me to be. I could be his ideal woman or something harmless like an old lady, I guess.”

  Easton almost swerves into oncoming traffic staring at me incredulously. “You’re serious?”

  “Yeah. It’s complicated but effective. It wears off, too, so make sure I leave before the clock strikes midnight and things start turning back into pumpkins.”

  “We won’t be there until midnight…and pumpkins? What?”

  “I know. I was making a Cinderella joke.” I close my eyes, suddenly feel sick again. I put my hand on my stomach and slowly let out a breath.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m a little queasy, that’s all.”

  “Are you getting sick? Don’t puke in my truck. I just got this thing detailed.”

  “I don’t get sick,” I say without thinking. Easton doesn’t know I’m a Nephilim, and while I’ve moved him from my I can’t fucking stand you list to my I trust you list, the less people who know about my lineage, the better.

  For their sake and mine.

  “I’m just stressed,” I admit. “A lot has gone on lately.”

  “Really?” he actually sounds surprised. “I thought you had plans to take an extended honeymoon and not even be here.”

  “I did. A lot changed since I saw you at the wedding.”

  “You decided to get a divorce?”

  “Hah,” I sneer. “No.” I look out the window, stomach flip-flopping. Why did I leave my drink in the Jeep?

  “Am I supposed to take your silence as a clue you don’t want to talk about it, or is this one of those things I ask about only to be told you don’t want to talk about it when really you do?”

  “No. Or yes? What was your question?” The sick feeling goes away, and I turn back to Easton.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I exposed a bad witch, got her fired, basically, with her powers bound. She turned to necromancy and is attacking the people I care about. Her latest was sending a hex bag to the store in the mail, and my non-magical employee opened the package.”

  “Fuck. Is she okay?”

  “Yeah. Luckily, I was there and got it countered. This witch is using some sort of cloaking spell that’s making her impossible to track.”

  “I’m sorry,” he tells me. “Necromancy is some dark shit.”

  “Yeah, you’re telling me.” I blink and get a flash of the deer that I sliced open. I shake my head.

  “If I can help, I will,” he says.

  “Thanks. I might have found a lead.” Well, Julian has. “Dealing with one problem at a time would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

  Easton laughs. “Yeah, it would be.”

  “What about you and Melinda? How are you guys doing?”

  “We’re…we’re hanging in there,” he says, and I feel bad for him. He and Melinda got kicked out of the group of hunters they used to run with because Easton refused to kill Lucas and me. Another hunter ratted him out, telling everyone he’s friends with a vampire and a witch.

  I’ve always liked Melinda, though, and never held her brother trying to kill me against her. She was born into the hunter lifestyle, and though she won’t admit it, it’s not something she’d choose.

  We make small talk the rest of the way to this club, which is located far off the road and hidden with a misleading sign saying that the gravel driveway takes you to a junkyard.

  “Is this a bar?” I ask. The parking lot is full, and a few people—dressed in jeans and flannel, the typical hunter garb—hang out outside, smoking.

  “Yeah. It’s called The Zodiac. There are a few of these all across the country.”

  “What happens if someone who’s not a hunter tries to go inside?”

  “They’d probably feel really uncomfortable and leave,” he says as he parks his big truck. “Though that’s if they can even find the place.”

  “It’s cloaked with magic?”

  He nods, turning off the truck and unbuckling.

  “Really?” I arch my eyebrows. “You guys kill witches, saying we’re evil, but you use magic to hide your special hunter clubs?”

  “It’s hypocritical, I know.”

  “It’s fucking wrong!” Magic sizzles around my fingers.

  “Easy, tiger. Don’t give yourself away. There are easily fifty hunters in there already, and that number is going to double soon.”

  “I can handle fifty hunters,” I huff, though to be honest, that might be a little questionable. Easton just rolls his eyes and gets out, waiting for me to come around. “What’s my story?” I whisper, realizing we should have worked this out sooner.

  “Story?”

  “Yeah, I’m a hunter. What’s my story? I figure something tragic, right?”

  “Sure.”

  We pause outside the door, and I can feel the spells they used to cloak this place from the general public. It would only take a few carefully chosen words to undo it, and I’m so tempted right now.

  Maybe on the way out. I need to get the name of the vampire who hired that hunter to go after me. Easton turns around and looks me up and down.

  “You look good in plaid.” He winks and then turns back, opening the wooden door. The smell of beer and burgers hits me as soon as I walk in, making my stomach twist again. The place surprises me, though.

  I expected some rundown, hillbilly bar, but this place is rather clean and modern.

  “Follow me,” Easton says and grabs my hand.

  “So my story is I’m your girlfriend?” I lean in, talking over the sound of music.

  “Flavor of the week is more like it.”

  “Hah. But fine, I’ll play. If you so much as try to cop a feel, I will curse you where you stand, and I won’t care who sees. And then you’d have my vampire master to deal with,” I say, pulling a face.

  “Hilarious. And keep your voice down.”

  We take seats at the bar, and Easton motions to a guy two seats down. “That’s him.”

  “Really? He doesn’t look like a big, bad hunter.”

  “I don’t think he is.” Easton flags down the bartender and orders us two beers. “Just pretend you like it,” he whispers, knowing I find beer to be disgusting. “Want anything to eat?”

  I shake my head. “No, but water sounds good right now.”

  “You’re still not feeling well?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I get a water along with the beer and suck on ice cubes while we wait for the right moment. Pretending to be drunk, Easton gets up and bumps into the hunter. The music is too loud to hear what they’re saying, but by Easton’s overexcited expressions, I can tell he’s acting impressed. He u
rges the hunter, who actually is drunk, up, and I know it’s time to make my move. I stick my hand in my purse, feel around for the potion vial, and turn my head down.

  “Dicere verum,” I whisper and feel magic pulse through me. I pop the cork off the vial with one hand and grab my beer with another. Bracing myself, I take a big swig and do my best not to gag as it goes down. I needed to make room in the bottle for the potion, and I look around, making sure I’m not being watching, and quickly dump the potion in.

  I drop the empty vial back in my purse right as Easton comes over.

  “This is my hot girlfriend,” he says, really driving in the point to make this hunter see me as his ideal “hottie.” Sexist? Maybe. Effective? Definitely.

  “Hey, babe,” Easton says, pushing the hunter down where he’d been sitting. “This is the guy I was telling you about.”

  “Hi,” I say, giving my best flirty smile. “I’ve heard so much about you and how brave you were, going after a witch.”

  The hunter’s eyes go right to my chest, and I resist the urge to button my shirt all the way up. “Yeah, it was brave.”

  I look at Easton and then at the beer, silently telling him the potion is in it.

  “Let me buy you a beer,” Easton says, clapping the hunter on the back.

  “What’s your name?” I ask, batting my eyelashes.

  “Roger. Who are you?”

  “Betty,” I blurt, saying the first thing that comes to mind. Easton hands him the beer, and Roger takes a big drink.

  “Who hired you to go after the witch?” I ask.

  “Some rich vampire,” Roger says and tips his head. He knows he’s spewing the truth even if he doesn’t want to.

  “We kill vampires,” Easton says and side-eyes me, warning me to go along with him. “Why would you work with one?”

  “He offered me a lot of money. Said he doesn’t like witches, either. I said it was something we can both agree on. Witches are bitches,” he laughs, and I have to look away and roll my eyes.

  You’d think they’d come up with a better rhyme…

  “Did you get the vampire’s name?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me.” Roger sways a bit and takes another drink.