by Lauren Dane
Clive got in the SUV Rowan had driven. Behind the wheel.
Genevieve looked between Clive and Darius before turning to Rowan. “I’ll sit in the back so I can keep an eye on our prisoner. How is your leg? Do you need medical assistance?”
“I’ve alerted Alice to have one of our physicians sent to my office,” Clive called out.
“I can’t believe he isn’t even trying to hide that he’s listening,” Rowan said.
“Vampires are arrogant.” Genevieve shrugged one shoulder.
David would drive his car back to Die Mitte and meet them there so after he’d gone, Rowan eased herself into the passenger seat and tried unsuccessfully to hide a wince.
Clive growled as he neatly turned the SUV around and followed David’s exit.
Chapter Fourteen
Patience awaited them in the garage with a small team. “We’ll get the prisoner to the interrogation room and secured, Scion,” Patience told Clive.
“We’ll meet you there shortly. I want to stop at my office first,” Clive said.
Rowan joined Patience. “See you after that.”
She knew he wanted her to get her leg looked at but she finally had a real lead on who was at the head of this operation and she was a superpowered being so a little through and through gunshot wound wasn’t going to stop her from making sure her lead didn’t have the slightest chance to escape.
And with the leak in the Nation, she couldn’t trust anyone but Clive and Alice. Not totally.
No, she’d be there and see to it her own damned self that this shitweasel was truly secured.
Clive’s annoyance seemed to cascade through their bond and she batted it away. She was the Hunter right then and he needed to put his husband shit away and let her do her job.
Genevieve pulled a pretty leather bag from the back seat. “A change of clothing. Sometimes interrogation can get messy.”
That broke the staring contest between Rowan and Clive, who frowned at her but then sighed.
“On second thought, I’ll go with you and then get my business seen to,” he said, following them into the elevator.
The secured floor they stopped on was one Rowan had never seen and she ignored the throbbing in her calf to take in all the details she could.
Clive took that opportunity to sidle up next to her, blocking her from seeing too much more than the heavy security doors on the four rooms on her right.
Essentially, they had a whole jail right here.
Goals.
But it was a door around the corner down that long hall they dropped the prisoner into.
Inside there was nothing more than a bed the size of a cot.
A wave of dizziness hit hard enough that Clive turned so quickly she barely saw it. “What?”
“Nothing.” Then to Genevieve. “Can you ward this room and set spell traps? If anyone comes in or goes out I want to know it.”
Genevieve sniffed, offended. “Naturally. I was considering some sort of enhancement to the traps like something to disable any being coming in or leaving.”
“I really approve of the way you say disable.”
“It’ll really hurt.”
“Perfect. Let’s do that. I want to go over what we took from the scene and talk with David and Alice about what they might have found out while we were gone.” Rowan didn’t want to go into this interrogation without being prepared first.
And maybe having a cup of tea to beat back the nausea that had taken root and didn’t want to let go.
She allowed herself a lean against the wall at her back as she watched Genevieve work. Rowan had never seen another witch work the way Genevieve did. A graceful and fierce combination of hands, murmured and sung words, a sort of dancing sway as she did it all.
Clive paced and prowled, glaring at her. He so wanted to grab Rowan and run her downstairs where the doctor waited but it would weaken them both and he knew it.
She’d hear all about it later she was entirely sure. He was pissed off and territorial and those things weren’t good for Vampires’ patience.
It took some time and Rowan wished Vampires had better circulation because they always kept their spaces so fucking warm she was sweating.
* * *
Finally, the witch finished and Clive barely waited for her assurance that she was done before he began to herd his wife toward the elevators.
Her color was off. The sheen of perspiration on her forehead and the way she’d begun to limp, even in the presence of his team, worried him enough to risk her wrath.
“Why aren’t you healing quicker?” Clive asked her in an undertone as she allowed him to physically put her in a chair once they got to the outer chamber of his office.
That she’d allowed it without even a middle finger or narrowed glare only made his worry grow.
“Unless I’m mistaken, you’ve been poisoned,” Genevieve said as she approached with the leather bag she’d pulled from the car downstairs.
“What?” Clive bent to take a deep sniff of her leg and then of the cloth she’d used to tie the wound off to stop the bleeding. “Why can’t I feel it through the bond?” he demanded. “It smells wrong but it doesn’t smell like poison. Fix her.”
Genevieve raised a brow at him but she knelt, the doctor at her side. “Cut the pant leg so I can see the wound better.”
“Can I have some tea if you’re all going to pretend like I can’t see or speak?” Rowan said.
Relief washed through him. If his wife was up to being bitchy, she wasn’t in dire straits just yet.
Alice handed her a cup and saucer. “It’s ginger tea.”
Clive sent his assistant a grateful look.
“You are healing,” Genevieve murmured and the doctor, a human employed by the Vampire Nation, agreed. “But it’s slow. The spell is what’s poisoning you. Confusing your system. I imagine your Goddess isn’t pleased.”
“She’s watching. In the background. Kind of scorched earth angry,” Rowan said. She took Clive’s hand and squeezed. “I’m not going to die. Brigid would know. She’s really going to light shit up when we finally get to whoever is behind this,” she told him.
Alice handed Rowan some wheat crackers. “This might help settle your stomach as well.”
“Thank you, Alice. And thank you everyone else. While that douchelord is still unconscious, let’s prepare. Stop glowering at me, Scion. I can talk and think perfectly well right now. I’m immobile with a doctor and a badass witch dealing with the injury to my body, also bolstered by a Goddess. I’m good.”
Goddess how he fucking loved the way she stuck her chin out when she was being particularly argumentative. Defiant. So aggressive and fierce.
“As you say,” Clive murmured.
* * *
Rowan saw the heat in his gaze. He was having sex thoughts about her right then which was far more flattering and endearing than she ever could have imagined before him. He got off on the things about her most people considered rude or uncouth.
The nausea dissipated as their bond seemed to heat in her belly.
“I’m going to change and when I get back I would appreciate something to eat,” Genevieve told them as she grabbed her bag and went into the nearby bathroom.
David put a hand up to stay Alice. “I’ll handle it. I know what she needs. I’m going to order something for you too, Rowan,” he said before he ducked out.
“Look at him being defiant and shit,” Rowan said.
The doctor put his things away before he turned to them once more. “I cleaned everything up. The bullet passed right through and avoided anything truly important. As Ms. Aubert said, you’re healing so you won’t need stitches or any other medical intervention at this point.”
“It’s all magical intervention now,” Genevieve said as she came back. She’d changed into black pants and a
t-shirt that featured the girls from the movie The Craft with the saying, “We are the weirdos, mister,” on the back.
A silly something she’d given Genevieve back when they’d met the first time some years before.
“I can take it from here,” Genevieve said as she eased into a chair across from Rowan and drank a glass of juice Alice had brought in. “Let me tell you what I know while I wait for the food.”
Which arrived a handful of minutes later, along with a bacon, lettuce, tomato and avocado sandwich and fries with tartar sauce just for Rowan.
No one had to nag her to eat fries.
“Vampires are involved in this. Which ones I can’t say. Why or how I can’t say. I can only tell you I scented blood magic in the siphon spell,” Genevieve said between bites.
“Vampires aren’t the only beings who use blood magic.” Clive, ever an ardent defender of the Vampire, bristled at Rowan’s side.
“Other beings can use blood magic. Vampires are blood magic. There’s a difference. I’d like to speak to you in confidence.” Genevieve flicked a look to Clive and then Rowan.
“I need everyone to leave,” Rowan said. “No offense,” she added to Alice and David because she meant it.
Still, Genevieve was going to tell them something super secret or delicate and whatever it was, she didn’t want it getting out. Rowan could respect that. The smaller the group she shared it with, the better.
Once the room had been cleared and Clive had assured himself she was eating enough, Rowan tipped her chin her friend’s way. “Let’s hear it. I’m assuming you’ve done some sort of mojo to dampen the sound so we really do have some sort of cone of silence.”
“I got a call before we went to see the Devils last night, remember?” Genevieve asked. At Rowan’s nod, she continued, “I had to go to Los Angeles earlier today to deal with it. Three of the most talented indie witches I know have gone missing.”
Indie witches weren’t part of any organized coven or group. They did their own thing. Most weren’t very talented but some were incredibly powerful. Most other paranormals just gave them the respect any dangerous being demanded.
“The same blood magic I found in the working circle and hints of in the siphoning spell was found at the scenes of each of the missing witches’ kidnappings.”
“The Vampire Nation has not sanctioned this,” Clive told her.
Genevieve poured herself some water, drained the glass and refilled it. “Be that as it may, I sensed this blood magic myself. It was also at the scene of Carey’s murder. There are more Vampires than those aligned with the Nation just as there are witches who live outside a coven. Most of them never make much of a fuss because they want to be left alone. But these Vampires specifically targeted indie witches who all lived in Southern California.”
“What are the other connections? Why these witches other than the indie status?” Rowan asked.
Genevieve paused a moment as she worked out just how much she could and should say. Yes, they’d given her their word that what was being discussed would remain confidential, but Senate business was not something she shared freely.
Every time witches had gotten attention from others it had been a very bad thing. Drownings. Hangings. Houses burned down. Being run out of town. They kept their own secrets because that’s how they stayed alive. Their culture of secrecy had been enshrined into ritual and a deep code of confidentiality.
But Genevieve knew the time had come to let Rowan know what else she’d learned. Because it was all connected. Something big was coming and they were going to have to work together to defeat it.
“All three are female. All three have immense talent with elemental work. Air and earth specifically with these witches. Each comes from a family well connected to the Senate leadership.”
Rowan blew out a breath. “You have a leak too.”
Genevieve nodded. “I wish I could say no, but yes. We do and the information about the location of each of these witches was known because of that connection.” They’d used the strength of community against them.
“Vampires and witches are officially part of this evil sorcerer crew. Along with some humans and others from Hunter Corp.,” Rowan said. “Keep us all busy suspecting one another while someone else feasts on the violence and chaos. If I didn’t know the Devils didn’t need to do things like this, I’d wonder if they were involved.”
Darius’s face flashed in Genevieve’s mind. The scent of his magic as it swirled around him. Like the earth after a thunderstorm.
“They’re not involved,” she told Rowan and the Vampire. “There’s a taste of chaos, but Devils aren’t subtle. Their chaos is like a raging river, crackling with power.” Fascinating and unquestionably dangerous.
Once David and Alice had come back into the room, Rowan went through all the things they’d gathered from the car at the scene of the working circle and from all the thugs who’d been there.
“Sloppy as hell,” Alice said, disdain in her tone. “Who takes their wallet to a crime scene?”
“Indeed,” Rowan said. “This all looks legit.” She pointed at the drivers’ licenses and other things. “The car’s a rental, but these guys all look like real dudes.”
“I can’t miss the fact that they seem to live all over LA and Orange County,” Genevieve said.
Where all the witches had gone missing from.
“It’s time to put the last piece to disarm the spell inside you,” Genevieve told her. “Then we’ll question the prisoner and you will go home to rest with your bossy Vampire and I will sleep for at least nine hours. If our prisoner is alive at the end of the questioning, I’ll knock him out until such time as I’m ready to bring him to consciousness. Makes it easier to keep them from escaping that way.”
Genevieve scooted her chair over to Rowan. She sucked in a huge breath and then her eyes seemed to blur, as if she looked at something far off in the distance. A clap of her hands and she began a slow rock. Back and forth, back and forth until she bent to blow out that indrawn breath against Rowan’s calf, her palm slapping Rowan’s chest above her heart.
Her flesh burned as though Genevieve’s breath had been flame. So hot Rowan was helpless not to bow her back and snarl as her fingers dug into the arms of the chair. Clive’s arms banded her from behind as he held her. Kept her safe.
And it was over as Genevieve clapped again and sat back. “I’ve done more magic today than I have in years. Good thing I practice all the time or I’d be needing a nap right about now.”
But she didn’t look sad or wistful. Genevieve looked excited and so very alive. It suited her.
“How do you feel?” Genevieve asked as she poked the spot Rowan had been shot only an hour before.
There was a dull throb but the sweats had passed, along with the nausea. “I’m okay. I think I’ll have to do any kicking with my left leg, which burns me because I’m much better with my right. I’m not possessed—other than the Goddess—am I?”
“No. And none of your energy is being siphoned. But that power has gotten more than one taste of you, Rowan. He’s going to want more.”
“I’ll make sure he fucking chokes if he tries.”
“That’s my girl,” Clive said as they stood.
Chapter Fifteen
Rowan strolled into the room adjoining the cell where their prisoner had been kept. Clive followed, settling while she stretched and drank some more tea until their prisoner, Bob Oakes, shuffled in with Genevieve at his back and Patience holding him by the scruff of his neck.
Rowan indicated where she wanted him and Patience obliged, tossing him into the only chair in the room that had been bolted to the floor.
“Hey, Bob. Tough night, am I right?” Rowan asked.
“I’m not telling you shit,” Bob said, full of bravado.
Instead of her blade, Rowan chose two smaller knives from th
e roll David handed her.
Without warning, she grabbed both, stepped close to Bob, and after several deft movements of her wrists, stepped back to watch the thin lines of blood appear on his face.
He shouted at her to stop and tried to move his head away but it was too late. They both knew that.
“I used to give a speech before I questioned people. Gave them ample warning about what the penalties for disobeying were.” Rowan sighed, mock sad. “Nobody ever listened. You all think you’re tough, but you never are. Not tough enough.” She shook her head as she wiped blood from the knives. “Those are really sharp. I know that because they’re mine and I take care of my tools. I’m going to ask you a question and you will answer it. If you don’t, I’m going to hurt you. Don’t doubt me on this, Bob.”
“Where are the people I was with?” he asked, all bravado gone but still far more arrogant than he had call to be.
“You were performing one jacked up working out there in the middle of Dust Devil territory. They’ve already been chewed up and shit out by now. Frankly you’re lucky to bleed out here with us compared to whatever your friends experienced at the hands of the Devils. But lucky is relative, am I right?”
This time she sliced up the front of his shirt and the flesh beneath. Deep enough to hurt. Painful enough to remind him that it could end if he just told her what she wanted to know.
“That was for you asking me a question when I’d just told you not to doubt me. Now. Let’s start again. Who do you work for? Because your wallet seems to indicate you’re a private security officer for some swanktastic rich person hospital in Santa Monica and I’m being honest now to tell you I just don’t believe you’d be doing this on your own. Plus we can see your energy being siphoned to someone else.”
He sat straighter but the sweat on his upper lip told her plenty.
“A very powerful witch tells me your aura has thin spots and tears. Like you’re a hundred and ten instead of forty-two. This person you’re working for is stealing years of your life. For what?”