CHAPTER 3
The next day I walked into work and was subjected to several minutes of contemptuous stares from Midwest Barbie and Ken before they managed to pull their shocked gazes from my clothes to the books I was toting with me. Blu was stretched out on the sofa. Her tortoiseshell-framed glasses had hints of blue in them, like the midnight tint on the tips of her tightly curled hair. She wore a white shirt, crisp with a woven design on it, dark blue fitted jeans, and dark brown strappy heels. I looked like I was ready for a long night of research and she looked like she was holding a book for a photoshoot. Kalen made me look even more out of place. Who still wore vests? He had a dark blue one, worn with a striped shirt and dark brown slacks that complemented the colors in the shirt.
Kalen gave my outfit—an oversized white shirt, dark green jeans, blue and white Converse, and a messy high ponytail— a look of derision before allowing it to fade into a sympathetic smile. I figured he’d reminded himself of the real emergency, which had nothing to do with fashion.
Returning to his research, his gaze slipped from me to the book he was holding. He walked the length of the room, pacing with the book in his hand. His fingers moved aimlessly each time he passed me, itching to change my attire, which apparently was so egregious it was stifling his concentration.
“If you do it, you might lose a finger. Do you really want to risk that?” I teased when it looked like he was losing his fight against the urge. His massive sigh caused him to fold into himself, as he conceded that I could choose my own clothing.
He flashed me a scorned look before taking a seat in a chair near Blu.
“Okay, based on what you said Savannah is experiencing, this might be the best one.” Blu didn’t sound sure. I needed her to be positive, without-a-shadow-of-a-doubt sure. I didn’t think I was going to get that. That was one of the complexities of magic. Location spells, cognitive manipulations done by the fae, compulsions by vampires, shifting one’s body, and my ability to modify memories and implant them, use defensive magic, and build wards and protective barriers all seemed easy on the surface. Spells were never easy; there were nuances to them. Like finding the right key for a door. One might fit but it wouldn’t turn. And that was the problem we were facing. Conner had modified Savannah’s memories, and I could reverse it, but I had to find the right pattern to complement his. And since I didn’t know everything he’d implanted, which memories had been modified, and what emotions those memories evoked, I was lost. Lost and desperate.
Later that evening Gareth and I were met at his door by a glaring and disgruntled Lucas. I’d heard the Master’s reluctance when we’d discussed the plan over the phone earlier. Doubt must have overtaken him in the time it took for us to get there.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he mused, frustrated.
“We don’t have a lot of options,” I pointed out, my frustration mirroring his. I understood how he felt. Doing a spell while Savannah was asleep felt like an invasion, wrong on so many levels. But she wasn’t likely to let me do it while awake, and I couldn’t have Lucas compel her just in case it had an adverse effect on the spell. There weren’t a lot of options.
After several moments of deliberation, Lucas reluctantly conceded and led us to his apartment. Savannah lay on his bed, her wealth of honey blond hair fanned out and one arm extended, exposing the open puncture wound where Lucas had fed from her. It was weeping blood. He’d purposely left it open so I could get a sample for the spell.
We moved in silence around her. I’d memorized the spell and quickly pulled out a knife and sliced my hand. I said the spell and felt strong magic pulsating through the room. It ensorcelled us and strummed through the air. I could see the kaleidoscope of colors and feel its cool breeze.
It was working. Or at least, I felt it was. I’d convinced myself that nothing that felt this strong could fail. Optimistic, but I needed to be. I needed this to work. My desperation was just as thick, heavy, and ever-present as the magic.
Savannah jumped up with a start as if she’d been shaken awake. Her normally placid gray eyes fixed on me, but the rage there was worse than it had been at the hospital. She looked savage and vengeful as she lunged at me. I grabbed her and tossed her. Her legs tangled with mine as we hit the floor. She jammed her elbow into my throat. I gasped for air. Rolling on top of me, she circled her hands around my neck. I didn’t want to hurt her but I couldn’t allow her to hurt me, either. I grabbed her wrist and pressed against the pressure points, trying to get her to release. She was determined, and unyielding violence wafted off of her. It was as if an assassin had been awakened, and her only goal was to kill me.
“Savannah.” I said her name through a strained, tightened throat. The pressure on her points started to work and her hold loosened. I shoved her and rolled away. Assuming the defensive position, I waited for her to attack. She would have if Lucas hadn’t grabbed her.
“Get your hands off of me,” she demanded, beating her fists against his forearm. It probably would have deterred a human. If Lucas hadn’t been looking at her, he wouldn’t have been aware of how violent and aggressive her strikes were.
His voice was calm and soothing as he called Savannah’s name, but she couldn’t hear anything over her demands that he let her go. Thrashing wildly, she hit at his hand, demanding her release. After several more failed attempts to calm her, he released his hold. She spun away from him. Her eyes were furious, blistering as they bounced between Gareth, Lucas, and me. She reserved the most ire for me. A cloud of realization came over her face: I wasn’t the only enemy in the room. Lucas and Gareth had joined the ranks. She slowly backed toward the door. When she was close enough she opened it.
“Savannah, please don’t leave,” Lucas pled. He started to advance toward the door, exhibiting the same vampiric ease of movement but purposely slow as if he was approaching a terrified animal. He kept saying her name over and over, a gentle melodic cadence that wasn’t enough to calm her. When she fixed him with a look of betrayal, he halted.
“We’re trying to help you,” he entreated. “You’re not well.”
I wanted to do more to explain, but she wouldn’t believe anything that came from me. I admitted defeat. Conner had won. Of all the things he’d done to me, the many attacks he’d executed against me, this one wounded me the most.
Lucas continued to inch toward Savannah. Since her attention was directed at him, I took that opportunity to move. I couldn’t let her get out the door. Especially since she was barely dressed, wearing just a simple silk nightgown. Far too flimsy and short for a midwestern autumn night.
Before I could get to her, she was running out the door. Lucas darted after her with vampire speed.
Gareth and I followed. Lucas lived above the club he owned, Devour. Very few people seemed shocked by the scantily clad woman running through the club toward the exit. The suits, the men guarding the door, were there. They looked startled by Savannah’s appearance. Not the clothing, but the fact that she was running away from Lucas. Lucas attempted to maintain his composure and offer a front of coolness despite how embarrassed he must have felt that a woman was running out of his club, barely dressed, obviously from his apartment. Savannah had been seen with him enough that people knew the two of them were involved.
“Carry on, there’s nothing to see. Just a disagreement,” Lucas said in a neutral voice as he attempted to de-escalate the situation to nothing more than a quarrel among lovers. He looked menacing; it was a vamp thing, he couldn’t help it. His agile movements made him seem lethal despite his attempts to look innocuous.
“We have to let her go,” Gareth said.
“No,” Lucas and I responded in unison, exiting Devour behind Savannah. Combined with the wafer of the moon, the streetlight offered enough illumination for me to keep track of her movements. Light was something neither Lucas nor Gareth needed.
A few club visitors had edged their way out of the building, and Lucas was aware of them. His irritation with the spectators spread over the d
efined planes of his face.
“Savannah, you have to come back in.” Concern eased into his words, and there were cracks in his composure. He seemed unsure how to handle her. That lack of assurance seemed odd on a person who epitomized self-confidence.
“You know what she is—what she’s capable of—and you allowed her near me.” Anger fueled Savannah’s words. The moments ticked by and she stood several feet from him, looking confused. I became hopeful that maybe my spell had some late effects. Perhaps she recognized me.
I would have ignored the crowd until something whizzed in Lucas’s direction. He turned and caught the stake before it hit him in the chest. That moment cost him—all of us. Strong magic moved like a cloud, covering the area and blocking the meager light available. The street became smothered and darkened. Conner was present within a fraction of time. Savannah’s back pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and disappeared.
Lucas was no longer able to contain his emotions and directed them at the shooter, who was foolish enough to make another attempt. Lucas no longer hid his preternatural abilities, and with a flash of movement that seemed fast even for a vampire, the angry predator was unleashed. The car couldn’t back away fast enough. Lucas was upon it, ripping open the door and yanking the shooter out of the passenger seat. The car kept moving, leaving him behind. He wore camouflage similar to that of the shooters who’d attacked at the Solstice festival and possessed the same look of defiance and hate. Seconds later, I heard Gareth call Lucas’s name, demanding that he stand down. Then there was a jerk of the shooter’s neck and a loud crack, and Lucas let the man slip out of his grasp. Gareth followed with a string of curse words.
“I told you to stand down!”
“I’m not under your command. I don’t follow your rules,” the vampire said, drily looking at the empty space where Savannah once stood.
“They aren’t my goddam rules, Lucas. They’re fucking laws.” More curses.
As sirens broke through the noise of the crowd, some people headed for their cars, and others moved back into the club.
Within minutes, Gareth was ushering Lucas into a human police car.
“Dammit, Gareth, you can’t keep arresting your friends.” I was completely exasperated.
“Lucas and I aren’t friends,” he said in an even voice.
“Fine, you can’t keep arresting vampires-that-you-have-a-strange-interaction-with-and-know-because-you-are-both-on-the-Supernatural-Council-and-date-best-friends. Is that better?”
“He didn’t leave me a lot of choices. The man was disarmed. He didn’t have to kill him.” I couldn’t detect a lie in the same manner that Gareth could, but my BS alarm was beeping like crazy. I wasn’t sure the results would have been different if Gareth had gotten to him first. The only thing that might have stopped him was the hope that the shooter could have offered information on the virus.
“What will happen to him? He can’t go to jail.”
“Usually these things are handled quite differently.” Differently being that Harrah would come with her kind and wholesome face and wipe away the humans’ minds by just walking in the room. The next day she would be on all the networks doing a brilliant PR spin of the events. But that wasn’t an option since I’d killed her and they hadn’t replaced her.
“The man tried to kill him, twice,” I huffed.
“I know,” he pushed out through teeth tightly clenched in frustration. “This is the last thing I wanted to deal with.”
As soon as Gareth dropped me off at home, I rushed into the house. Grabbing one of my knives, I slashed it over my hand in order to do another location spell, hoping Conner was too weak from traveling with Savannah to block it. I stood in anticipation over the brightly lit map, waiting for colors to light up to show his location. Once again, I was left with nothing. Savannah was scared and with Conner. Damn.
CHAPTER 4
Gareth stood quietly, watching me pace back and forth in my living room.
“He wouldn’t just take her without a reason. He has an agenda. I just need to know what it is,” I fumed. I wasn’t even pacing anymore; I was pounding on the ground, trying to release the pent-up energy and frustration directed at Conner. I didn’t think I’d ever had so much rage, anger, and hate in me, and it was all for him. It had been twenty-four hours since Lucas had been arrested, and I was reluctant to ask what had happened with the situation. There was no doubt that Lucas had killed the man. However, after being shot at twice by a crossbow, was he not expected to retaliate? To not defend himself?
As if he’d read my mind, Gareth said, “Lucas was released.”
“Released and not charged or released on bail?”
“No charges were filed against him.”
I studied Gareth. “How many favors did you have to call in to make that happen?” His face folded into a frown before he wiped his hands over it.
It was probably safe to say that when a person had been around as long as Lucas had, they would have accumulated quite a few favors as well as connections. I was sure being Master of the city and extremely wealthy didn’t hurt, either.
“It was Victor,” Gareth said in a pensive voice. Before I could question him, he continued, “Victor believes there will be another attack.”
“So he’s sending a message by letting someone who openly killed one of the attackers go?”
“Of course not. However, a lot of people corroborated Lucas’s story that it was self-defense. No one seemed to see it as an act of aggression, so there wasn’t enough evidence to charge him.”
Gareth came to his feet and started toward the door. I looked at him curiously. He shrugged. “Someone’s at your door.”
Just as he made it to the door, someone knocked. That’s not freaky at all. No, not at all.
“Because it was self-defense,” Lucas said, acknowledging Gareth with a nod as he entered the apartment. Did he own a pair of jeans? Or at least a pair of khakis? Once again Lucas looked unscathed by the events of the day before. Dressed in a tailored black suit and a black shirt, with the exception of the silver cufflinks that glinted in the light, he was a vision of darkness. It was an odd contrast against his parchment skin and blond hair. Lucas was usually charismatic and warm, with underlying hints of danger and eroticism. Now he seemed laden with danger.
“I can find Savannah, but I will need your help.”
I wanted to find Savannah just as much as Lucas did, but right now I was apprehensive about working with the Prince of Darkness.
With hesitation, I asked, “How do you know where she is?”
He licked his lips then gripped them with his teeth. It was an impressive feat that he didn’t puncture them with his fangs. When he released his lips, he allowed them to curve into a half-smile as he averted his eyes from mine. He started off slowly, considering each of his words before he spoke. “Although Savannah is different with you since the abduction—” He stopped. “With me she is still the same. There are certain proclivities that she enjoys. When I take from her, she likes to do the same thing to me. She doesn’t have fangs so I often—”
“I get it. No need to give me any more details. I don’t need to know everything. We’re good,” I quickly interjected. I could feel the heat rise over my cheeks and on the bridge of my nose. I understood that when they were together, they were together, but I didn’t want to know the specifics. I’d gone on enough trips with Savannah to various lingerie stores to get more than an eyeful and often an earful when she decided to go into detail as to why she had to purchase so much. He didn’t seem to possess enough patience to undo a bra clasp and instead opted to rip them off her. Savannah had offered this information freely just to see my response. She knew I wasn’t happy she was dating a vampire, but at this moment, I was so glad she was. We would be able to find her because she’d consumed his blood. Lucas stared at me, darkly amused as my face scrunched in disgust at the idea.
“I can track my blood,” he said.
“Yeah,
I got that. No details!” I spouted back, knowing I could never unhear what he’d said. His eyes dropped to my neck and homed in on the veins, or rather the area where the veins should be. He probably couldn’t help himself. I gathered that the exchange between them coincided with sexual acts. But I imagined that wasn’t enough to sustain him and he had to use other sources.
Lucas was becoming increasingly agitated as the minutes ticked by. It was safe to assume that the moment he suggested something, he expected it to be done. I didn’t believe that expectation was solely driven by his feelings for her. He’d lived so long and acquired such standing in the city and among other vampires that someone not bending to his will was foreign to him.
“We should leave,” he urged, impatient.
“I think it would be a good idea if we called for others to assist,” Gareth suggested from behind him. Lucas glanced over his shoulder and shot Gareth a chilled look. Was it because he asked him to wait, because he was still a little upset about being arrested, or a combination of both? Since both were on the Magic Council and dealt with each other consistently, there had to be a foundation to form a friendship, or at the very least a tangible association. But the more I considered it, the more likely it seemed that they probably hadn’t. They were two dominant personalities used to unwavering loyalty and unconditional power.
“I don’t mind the assist if they can get there in time. But I won’t wait on them,” Lucas said sternly.
“The SG has access to magic, something neither one of us has.”
Lucas dismissed Gareth with a wave of his hand. “You have immunity to it.”
“Not his magic.” Agitation laid heavily over his words. The idea of being subjugated or even influenced by magic bothered shapeshifters. Their immunity to most magic afforded them a certain level of arrogance toward others and a god complex. But Legacy and Vertu magic reduced them to mere mortals. They didn’t like it, and Gareth displayed his displeasure with the heaviness of his frown.
Rogue Magic Page 3