“There’s a young girl in that room. Trevor fed from her, and now she’s unconscious. She could be dying.”
Hunter swore.
“Could we use the poison as a conduit to find Trevor?”
Zaira frowned. “If he has it on him, possibly. But there’s no guarantee.”
“Damnit!” And there was no guarantee they could find him in time to save the girl, even if Phoebe could tell them where he was.
She’d never attempted to start a fire long distance, but then she’d never had a connection to direct it through. Phoebe closed her eyes and drew a deep, cleansing breath as Zaira had instructed her earlier. She focused on Trevor again. His image came through more clearly this time. She embraced the human, psychic part of her. Heat rampaged through her, building as she drew it in from the elements around her. She let it build until a spark ignited, and she shoved it down the connection, directly at him.
The cards in Trevor’s hand burst into flame. He screamed like a girl and hurled them away. Leaping across the table, he landed in a crouch, his eyes darting around the room. Then he rushed to the door, jerked it open, and poked his head out. An oval sign glowed yellow and orange, a huge moon against a dark purple background.
She recognized the sign, having passed it every time she went out of town.
“They’re at the Full Moon. I don’t know what room. We need to hurry.”
Hunter pushed against her shoulder, holding her in place easily, though she struggled against it. “Chris and I will take care of this. You need to stay and let Zaira do what she can for you.”
He and Chris sped out of the room, the door waving back and forth in their wake.
“Damn it. They won’t make it in time.”
“What did you do, Phoebe?” Zaira asked. “I was across the room when I felt the push of power.”
She’d known Zaira almost as long as she had Calamity, but only Zaira and Zelda knew about her special gifts, gifts she brought with her through her transition. She studied Zaira’s face for several seconds. “They say gambling is a sin and will send you to hell. I just gave them a little taste of what they may be in for.”
Zaira laughed, then just as quickly grew sober. “You may have given up your chance to catch Trevor so you could save the girl.”
Phoebe nodded. “She’s just a kid. Too young to die, and too young to turn. I hope Trevor and his cohort bugged out and left her behind.”
“Chris will call and let me know. He’s good about things like that.”
“I don’t think Hunter will. He strikes me as the type you’d have to torture to get answers from, and then you might not get them anyway.”
“Roger says pretty much the same thing. If you have a secret, though, he’ll ferret it out. He’s that good.”
Was Zaira warning her, or just repeating what Roger said?
“Then I suppose I’d better make certain I’ve paid him a retainer, so he’s under contract, and can’t reveal anything that happens while we’re together.”
“A retainer might be a good idea.”
It was already too late. He’d witnessed what happened here, and he’d realize what she’d done once he and Chris arrived at the hotel.
CHAPTER 7
HUNTER DROVE THE Jaguar full out while it growled its way through back roads, all the way across town to the Full Moon Hotel. The squat, two-story building with exterior walkways had the look of cheesy seventies architecture, except heavy steel doors and bulletproof windows replaced the flimsy originals, and extra-thick privacy curtains covered the windows—both to make sure the glow of lights inside the rooms didn’t show at night, and the sun didn’t intrude during the day.
Hunter whipped into the parking lot. The car slid to a stop, kicking up gravel at the front door just as he and Chris leapt out of the car and rushed into the office.
The young Shifter working the desk shook his head, his eyes wide at their questions. “I can’t tell you what room any guest is in. It’s against policy.”
Every second this kid kept them away from Trevor’s room, the girl could be getting closer to death. And Trevor and his companion would be getting farther and farther away.
Hunter’s frustration bubbled over. He grabbed the kid, dragged him across the desk, shoved him against the waist-high counter, and stuck the picture of Trevor in his face. “This asshole has kidnapped a young human girl, and is feeding on her as we speak. If you don’t give me his room number, I’m going to pull the fire alarm and get the human fire department out here. You don’t want anyone to get interested in the things going on behind some of these doors, but if the humans show up, they will be paying attention, believe me. Give us the number, and we can avoid that.”
The young Shifter’s eyes were big as the moon on the sign outside. “It’s room two-nineteen.”
“Chris, kill the phone,” Hunter ordered. “If they’re still in the room, we don’t want Mr. Policy here calling to warn them.”
Hunter didn’t wait for him, but charged out of the office, scanning the parking lot and the cars. The place was full. He rushed up the concrete stairs with its flimsy white wrought iron railing, and only had to wait a moment before Chris was beside him, waving an extra key to the door. The vamp was proving to be a competent partner.
Hunter kept his voice to less than a whisper, knowing the other man could hear him. “Be careful. They may have the poison, and I don’t have to tell you they’re dangerous.”
Chris answered in kind, “I may be a nerdy college professor, but I can handle myself.”
“Good. Open the door from the side. I’ll go in first.”
Chris stuck the electronic key into the lock and twisted the door handle. Hunter went in fast, crouching as he scanned the room. It was empty, but for the young girl sprawled on the floor. Bruises covered her arms, and raw puncture on her throat wounds still seeped blood. He quickly moved to her side and checked for a pulse. “She’s still alive, but her pulse is weak. We need to contact emergency services.”
“I’ll call it in to ours,” Chris jerked a cell phone out of his pocket.
Hunter prowled the room for evidence of Trevor’s occupancy. The room was neat, the beds made, the only evidence anyone had been there a pile of towels on the bathroom floor, a still-dripping shower stall, and a dying girl.
“EMSV is coming.” Chris murmured. “They’ll give her a transfusion and drop her off in front of her house.”
“Good.” Hunter bent and found three partially burned scraps of paper under the table. He studied the images printed on them. Phoebe had said Trevor and another man were playing cards. Why would they burn their cards?
Hunter stuffed them in his pocket. “Are you okay to stay with her while I go back and talk to the desk clerk?”
“Sure.”
The young desk clerk dodged behind the desk when he saw Hunter coming. “Stay away from me.”
“We’ve called EMSV to come and treat the victim. She’s alive, but just barely. The vampires who were in the room, did you see where they went?”
The kid looked like he might refuse to answer, then his shoulders fell. “They arrived in a dark green jeep two days ago. It shot out of the parking lot just before you got here, heading west.”
“Did you get the license plate number?”
“No. We don’t do that. It might infringe on our guests’ privacy.”
Hunter was well versed in how secretive vampires, Shifters, and other groups could be. It made it hard as hell to track them. And they’d just missed catching the vamp responsible for Phoebe’s poisoning.
An ambulance sped into the parking lot.
“You do realize you saved the girl’s life by cooperating with us. Her death could have created major issues for us all. They’ll treat her, compel her to forget, and she’ll go on with her life none the wiser. Which will be a kindness to her.”
The clerk nodded, a thick hank of hair bobbing against his forehead.
Hunter left the kid and walked out to find the
EMTs already loading the girl into the ambulance. A small crowd had gathered. He smelled Shifters, and a hint of faerie. And was that foul scent gnome? He hadn’t run across one of them in years. He realized he was reaching for something—anything—to think about but the woman they left in Zaira’s office, and what this would mean for her.
Chris wandered up. “The girl’s going to be okay.”
“Good. I hope Phoebe will be, too. She gave up an opportunity for us to catch these bastards in order to save the girl’s life.”
* * *
ZAIRA PLACED A metal bowl on the desk standing in the middle of the circle she closed around them. Several bowls filled with ground herbs and flowers also sat on the desk. Phoebe caught the scent of sage among several others she couldn’t identify. Candles flickered at the four corners.
Zaira dipped a ceremonial dagger into the water she’d just purified, then used it to scrape the ground herbs and flowers into another bowl. Mixing some of the purified water into the blend, she made a paste. With the tip of the blade, she applied it to the puncture wounds on Phoebe’s neck.
She moved the tip of the blade in a counterclockwise circle around and around the bite without touching the skin.
“Within her body lies
A poison that tries
To end her life,
So draw this knife,
And with her stillness
I’ll pull free this illness,
And let us face
This evil trace,
By the Goddess I decree,
So mote it be.”
A drawing sensation surrounded the bite mark like a string that had worked its way to the surface of her skin and was being pulled out of the wound. The spasm of pain which struck her was so intense Phoebe’s grip on the chair arm tightened again, and the plastic finally shattered and crumbled. She clutched the metal frame that was left, trying to twist away from the excruciating pain, but, other than her hands, she couldn’t move her body. Completely in the grasp of Zaira’s magic, she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.
Zaira shoved a bowl against her neck beneath the wound.
The hot feeling of fluid flowing out of the bite made Phoebe itch. Everything in her body was draining out the small puncture wounds in her neck. Every inch of her screamed with pain. It took all the control she had to avoid shrieking in agony, and tears streamed down her face while a strangled sound ripped out of her.
Zaira said, “It’s almost over, Phoebe.”
She prayed to the Goddess it was, because she didn’t think she could bear it much longer without shattering.
Zaira set aside the bowl and reached for a towel to blot her neck.
“This spell must end.
Please heal this friend,
And set her free.
So mote it be.”
While Zaira’s last words were still resonating in the room, Phoebe lunged up and out of the chair, sending Zaira stumbling back out of her way. Dizziness drove Phoebe to one knee. She braced her hands on the floor while tears continued to run down her face to drip off her chin. In moments her head cleared, and she pushed shakily to her feet.
She opened her eyes to see Zaira’s worried gaze fastened on her. “How do you feel?” The witch handed her some tissues.
While she wiped her face, Phoebe took stock. Her body no longer ached, and the constant throb of the bite had receded to a weak twinge. “Better. I think.” She gritted her teeth. “You said uncomfortable.”
“I’m sorry. I thought if I told you the truth, it would only have made it worse leading up to it.”
“Worse!” She shook her head.
Zaira moved on. “We have another problem.”
Having barely recovered from the torture, she didn’t want to hear about another problem. But didn’t have the luxury of ignoring whatever it was. “What is it?”
“There’s more poison in the bowl than you could have ingested from one small bite from Trevor’s neck. And I can’t guarantee I got it all.”
Phoebe crossed the short distance and looked in the metal vessel. About the size of her childhood favorite cereal bowl, the container was nearly full of a thick, cloudy fluid. She’d been drinking more blood lately than anyone else at the house, but only drank her own supply, which had her name written on it. Why had she not died?
“Dear Goddess.” She whipped her cell phone out, swiped the screen to unlock it, and hit the number she needed most. “Arthur, our blood bank may have been compromised. Tell everyone at the house not to drink any more until it’s tested.
“And make sure everything with my name on it is destroyed. I think someone there has added small doses of the poison to it. Zaira just drained a bowlful from me.” She took a deep breath. “The only thing that’s been keeping me alive is your blood, Arthur. It’s been counteracting the poison, or at least beating it back.”
CHAPTER 8
DESPITE HUNTER’S EFFORTS to start a conversation with Phoebe a time or two, the silence between them stretched for the last twenty miles of the drive back to Superstition. The docs hadn’t been overly encouraging, but they did extend a ray of hope. Until they found a pure sample of the substance to use for developing an antidote, it was better than nothing.
And there was another finding that relieved him. The poison couldn’t be absorbed through the skin and only activated when it mixed with blood. Thus the reason why Trevor had rubbed the wound on Phoebe’s neck after he bit her. He’d introduced poison into her system. Having her bite him and suck the poison from his skin with it had given her a double dose. She’d have died on the stage without the antidote and Arthur Stewart’s blood.
He had seldom been more confused by a case and the vampires involved.
Stewart felt deep affection for Phoebe. He had read that in the Master Vampire’s demeanor and his concern. But why had he so carelessly handed her off to Trevor Ricci?
Trevor was brilliant at business, but his reputation for cruelty and spiteful behavior held him back. Phoebe also had business acumen, as well as a gift for creating bridges between vampire and other species’ interests. She would have been the perfect choice if Stewart planned a hostile takeover of Ricci’s clan.
If that was the case, Phoebe had to know about the plan. But she didn’t strike him as devious.
Or was that wishful thinking on his part? He wanted her to be the upright female she seemed to be. He shrugged to himself. If she knew what her sire had planned, he’d find out about it soon enough.
It was a relief when Phoebe’s cell phone rang.
He listened to both sides of their conversation, and pieced together what she was talking about and who she was talking to when she called the man Luke.
Hunter already begun building more detailed, in-depth dossiers than what Arthur gave him on all the vampires and servants who worked and lived in his house.
Luke Jakes was third in command after Phoebe in Stewart’s business empire. And it was an empire.
Aside from those three, there were very few vampires who worked at the house. Five humans worked there—the housekeeper; Arthur’s personal servant Horacio, who had been with him at least two hundred years; Luke Jakes’ personal servant, Thaddeus; and two women who came in to clean.
Phoebe had no staff of her own.
She had an independent streak a mile wide, and quite a temper. He could see the rage working through her even now.
She disconnected the call and turned to him. “They’ve tested all the blood at the house and decided to stick with live donors until we can find out who’s contaminating it. Luckily no one else’s supply was touched. As far as we can tell.”
So she remained the sole target so far, which he found troubling. “Sounds like a wise thing to do.”
“Thank you taking the poison Zaira drained out of me to the lab.”
“It’s part of my job. I’ve put out a bolo on the green jeep and Trevor to my contacts all over the state in regular human law enforcement and the preternatural community.”
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“I’m relieved to hear it. Zaira’s bought me some time, but the scientists say an undiluted sample of the poison would go a long way toward creating a true antidote. As of now they suspect the poison might have been changed by ingestion, just enough to make their analysis less exact.”
“Your color is much better, and the bite has partially healed. Zaira’s a powerful witch. Powerful enough to do more than work as a PI.”
“She’s been approached by the Witch Council to do other things, but she doesn’t want to get tied up in the politics.”
“I understand.” He glanced in her direction and paused to study her profile. He needed to break down the barriers between them to get at the heart of this case. “I’ll concede that I behaved like an ass earlier tonight when we first left the house.”
“Yes, you did.” Amusement twitched at corners of her mouth and eyes.
He smiled. “You don’t give an inch, do you?”
“No, but you just did.”
Darlin’ I could give you a lot more than that. Hunter bit the inside of his lip to keep from smiling, but he couldn’t control his physical response to her.
“One of my gifts is reading minds.”
Hunter laughed. “We both know that isn’t true.”
“How do you know?”
He shot her a heated glance. “If it was, you’d be wiggling in your seat right now with your panties on fire.”
For the first time he saw her poise falter. She bowed her head, and her hair fell forward to hide her expression. She suddenly laughed, the sound husky, uninhibited, and sexy as hell. He got harder.
When she glanced up, one wing of blond hair lay against her cheek, and a smile still lingered.
He was disappointed when she turned to look out the side window without comment.
* * *
PHOEBE HAD NEVER reacted to a male the way she did to Hunter. But she had to be cautious. In fairness, she shouldn’t start something she might not have time to finish.
Being vampire was supposed to mean being impervious to disease and able to heal quickly, but it left options for more human entertainments less compelling. She could party, but drugs and alcohol had no effect on her. She really liked having a drink now and then. Just one. She’d been so conservative as a human. Now she wished she’d cut loose and gotten drunk at least once. She would have enjoyed the easy feeling of euphoria humans described to her.
Magic and Mayhem: Once Bitten, Twice Shy (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Have Wand, Will Travel Book 2) Page 6