Mira will fetch you something to eat. Housing my power took a toll on you.
The door slammed as Mira exited.
“Did it take a toll on you?”
It doesn’t matter. He sounded weary.
“Yeah, it kinda does. If we’re gonna do this, I need to know how this works. What your limits are. What my limits are. I get the feeling I asked a lot of you today.”
His chuckle filled my head. I think it is only fair considering I am asking you to mask my essence.
This was weird … him being nice to me. He sounded almost relaxed. “Well, you kinda didn’t really ask.”
Point taken.
I sat up, and brushed back my hair. The room was empty, but his presence was an imprint on the bed. I ran my hand over the duvet. Still warm. He’d been here, in the flesh. My pulse jumped. I needed a glass of water.
“So? What happened today?” I padded over to the kitchen area. Was he walking with me? “You seemed to get weaker the more you channeled.” I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and unscrewed the cap.
I sensed him hesitate as if mulling over an issue. I experienced some … issues when channeling my power into you.
I swigged. “Issues? What kind of issues.”
I’m not sure.
He was lying. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The door slammed open and Mira stomped in, her expression was stormy. “Here’s your damn food. I’m going out to get something to eat.”
The bag was bulging with takeout, Chinese by the aroma drifting up my nose. “Wait, there’s plenty here. We can share.”
She glanced at the bag, then back up at me. Her smile was brutal and cruel. “Real predators don’t eat out of a bag.” She spun on her heel, her exit punctuated by the slam of the door.
The man who’d tried to get her into his car … The blood on the soup kitchen floor. “Please tell me she doesn’t really eat people.”
Very well, she doesn’t really eat people.
Oh, god.
Tell me about Drake.
“Why?”
He is important to you.
“Was.”
No. He still is.
My throat grew tight. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
You were intimate with him?
Dammit why wouldn’t he just drop it? “That’s none of your business.”
He sighed. He has a piece of you, and you must claim it back.
A piece of me? “Yeah? And how do I do that?”
By giving it to someone else.
Sod it. I’m not giving anything to anyone ever again.
Another hearty sigh. Call this man Banner, set a date, and then eat your food. He began to retreat.
“Wait!”
He paused.
“Thanks for getting me home, Paimon.”
He was silent, but the warmth spreading through my limbs told me he’d heard, and then the door between us closed with a definite snick.
I dug out my phone and found Banner’s card in the key bowl by the front door. Okay, game time people. Taking a deep breath I dialed his number. It rang once before he answered.
“Hello?”
That damn voice. How could anyone sound sexy saying hello? “Um, hi. It’s—”
“Carmella. I’d recognize your beautiful voice anywhere. Changed your mind about a date?”
Here went nothing. “Yes actually.”
He was silent for the longest time. “Really?”
Why did he sound so surprised? Ah, shit. He was probably expecting more of a chase. Dammit what a cock-up. “Of course. You’re very … nice.” Nice? He was nice? Argh.
“Carmella, what’s wrong? Why are you calling really?”
Great. I couldn’t even get a date with a guy who wanted to date me. So much for being an expert. A year of being in a relationship and six months of being dumped, and I was a rusty bumbling mess.
“Carmella. You can talk to me.”
Fuck it. “Urvashi is missing and I need your help.”
Silence.
“I was asking you out so I could seduce you and get you to take me to the Chandra Celebration, okay?”
“Why the Chandra Celebration?”
And so I told him everything, bar the whole I have a djinn in my head thing.
He cursed softly. “I’m glad you told me. I’ve been going crazy here. Three of my best apsara barmaids have gone missing, and all the enforcement agencies do is fob me off. This is the first proper lead I’ve had.”
“So you’ll take me to the celebration?”
“Yes. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight. We can get a bite to eat and discuss our action plan. Plus it wouldn’t hurt for people to see us together before the Chandra Celebration.”
“Really?”
“I hate that you sound so surprised,” he said softly. “See you tomorrow Carmella. Oh, and dress … dressy.” He hung up.
Was it inappropriate to be excited about a not so real date to discuss the disappearance of my very real friend? Probably. But it had been such a long time since I’d been out for a meal with a hot guy.
My tummy rumbled, and I grabbed the bag of takeout.
Neither Paimon nor Mira made another appearance that evening, and for a few hours I was just the old Carmella again—a witch-blood with no magick who lived above a bakery and ran a soup kitchen.
Bring on tomorrow, the mission, and the some real answers.
13
“ I’m not bathing with you watching.”
I will look away. Did his voice sound strained?
“Like you do when I need the loo?”
Yes.
I stood by the tub, torn. I couldn’t not bathe. I’d peed with him in my head and he was good to his word about retreating. Maybe if I understood more about how this binding worked? I knew he had a body. He’d carried me home after I’d passed out in the alleyway. But where was his body now?
I cleared my throat. “You’re thoughts are in my head … but your body … Where is it?”
He sighed. In the in-between. Djinn can mask themselves, become invisible and hide in the cracks of reality. But these hunters would follow me into the cracks if not for my connection to you. It is allowing me to hide very effectively.
For some reason I’d imagined him as one of those cartoon smoke genies. “So, you have a proper body.”
Yes, Carmella. His tone dropped to something low and seductive. Would you like to see it?
Holy shit. It was like he was caressing the inside of my fucking brain. “Stop that.” My neck heated.
The low rumble of his laughter reverberated inside me, turning my insides liquid.
“Just … look away so I can shower.”
He retreated and the door in my mind closed behind him.
I washed quickly, focusing on the door inside me, alert for even a crack in the seal. Shit, what was the point? The door could be a decoy. A trick. He could be standing by the tub watching me, all invisible and ogling. Dwelling on it would drive me crazy. I had no control in this situation. No choice but to trust he was moral enough to keep to his word, and so far he hadn’t tried to hurt me. In fact he’d gone out of his way to save my life. Gut instinct trumped paranoia.
But still, the sooner I got him out of my head the better.
_____
Half an hour later he still hadn’t resurfaced and I’d taken the time to don my favorite date dress, not so showy or sexy to be slutty, and not to prudish to be unavailable. A midnight-blue number that brought out my eyes and made my hair gleam; it was the prize in my wardrobe, my go-to dress. The sweetheart neckline was discreet and yet seductive, and the material hugged me in all the right places, coming to a halt just above the knee. My hair was up in a stylish messy bun exposing my long graceful neck … at least that’s what Drake had called it. Swan-like. We’d been good together. I’d been happy. Who was I kidding? I’d been happy, he’d been in love with someone else and using me as a shield, a crutch to stop himself fa
lling into her arms.
Penelope was an elder witch for the Mayfair Coven—a matriarchal coven who treated men like sperm donors. Drake hadn’t wanted to be one of those guys, so he’d denied his feelings. But then Penelope had left it all behind. The coven, her title, just to be with him, and he’d gone running. Fine. I’d let him go. What was the point in holding on to someone when their heart was somewhere else, right? But two months later and Penelope was back at the coven taking Drake with her.
It still stung like a bitch.
Even now.
Sighing, I finished off the outfit with my comfiest midnight-blue pumps and surveyed the result in the full length mirror.
An icy breeze caressed my shoulders and skimmed along the back of my neck, and a strange tension gripped my body. The door in my mind was open and Paimon was looking in. Looking at me.
I swallowed. “What do you think? Will I do?”
The tension intensified and then shut off as if it had never been there. I know little about the thought processes of human men.
“Well I think you look delicious.” Mira said
I spun toward the front door. “How the heck did you get in?”
She licked her lips. “Doors do not keep me out.”
Good to know.
She raked me with her gaze. “Can I have her Paimon? Please.” She began to morph, taller, broader, until she was no longer a girl, she was no longer female. She stood before me as a male … a completely nude male.
Shit. I looked away. “What the fuck?”
“Fucking sounds good,” she said.
Mira! Paimon’s voice was a slap.
“Oh, come now Paimon. We’ve shared before.”
Wait, what? “I thought you said you didn’t do casual sex?”
There was complete silence. Paimon shifted uncomfortably in my mind and then Mira was cackling with laughter.
How dare she laugh at me? I spun on her. “Either put some damn clothes on or get the fuck out.”
Her laughter died and her body morphed again. When the shifting settled she was still male, but dressed in dark trousers and a salmon shirt open at the neck.
We should go.
I ignored him and addressed Mira. “What was so funny?”
“The ideas that djinn don’t do casual sex.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Djinn love to fuck. They fuck like rabbits.”
My body was flooded with heat, and I rubbed the back of my neck. “So why lie about it?” I addressed Paimon.
I didn’t lie. I said intimacy was something we did not share lightly.
What the heck was the difference? My question must have shown on my face.
Mira chuckled, low and sexy. “Let me explain. Fucking is like foreplay to the djinn, and intimacy is something more. It’s when they share a part of themselves, and a connection is formed.” She shrugged. “Personally I prefer the fucking part. So … can I have her?”
Her attitude and assumptions sucked, and I was done being intimidated by her.
“No, you cannot have me to fuck or eat or whatever your depraved little mind would like to dream up. And from now on, if you’re going to be hanging about, you’ll show a little respect for the woman who’s sheltering your fucking lord.” Damn, had I just said that? My heart was slamming against my ribcage, so yeah, must have.
Paimon had gone completely still.
Mira simply stared at me from her brand new male face, her expression impassive.
“Well?”
She smiled, slow and deliberate. “About time your backbone came out to play again.”
I blew out a relieved breath.
“I’ll be around if you need me.” She sauntered out of the flat, closing the door softly behind her.
She likes you.
“Really? She has an odd way of showing it.”
Well, she hasn’t tried to eat you, so that’s always a good sign.
“I snorted.”
Oh, and there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.
“Yes?”
You don’t need to speak out loud to communicate with me. Just project your thoughts.
“What? You mean I’ve been walking around talking to myself like a loony all this time for nothing? Why didn’t you tell me?”
A shrug. I found it amusing.
“When this binding is over, I’m going to kick your arse.”
Hush. No words. Project.
I’d project him something all right. I imagined an arse, and then imagined kicking it.
He made a choking sound. Images not required. Besides … my behind is much better looking.
It was my turn to choke.
The doorbell rang.
Prince charming is here. His tone was cool and distant. I’ll be watching …
Grabbing my jacket and clutch I went to open the door.
Dinner with the hottest man in the city, with a seductive djinn in my head. Great. What could go wrong?
14
T he city was alive with light, but the tinted windows of Banner’s ride muted the glare. This was my first time in a sports coupe, and it was sexy as hell—a sleek, smooth ride that wove through the traffic like silk.
“So, where are we going?”
Banner grinned, his eyes on the road as he navigated the late-night London traffic. “You’ll see.”
He looked good, smelled even better, and his hair had been slicked back for the occasion so his thick lashes were on display.
“You don’t need to surprise me. This isn’t a real date.”
He darted a quick look my way. “If I take a beautiful woman out, fake date or no, I make the effort.” He arched a brow. “I can see you did too. Your dress is … something else.”
Paimon snorted. Something else? Did he run out of words?
I bit the inside of my cheeks to stem the giggle.
How would you describe it then? I projected the question.
Stunning, striking, gorgeous … His voice thickened. A pretty wrapper my fingers itched to peel away …
Oh man. My cheeks were instantly warm. What was he doing to me?
A low rumbled of laughter.
Shit, had I projected that? In fact how much of what I thought had he been picking up on?
Silence.
“Are you always this quiet?” Banner asked.
“Oh. No. I’m just worried about Urvashi.” At least I should be. Damn I was a shitty friend, worrying about the djinn in my head instead of my kidnapped friend.
His expression sobered. “Yes. The IEPEU better have a damn good reason for keeping us in the dark.”
We swerved and came to a halt outside a brightly lit building with tinted windows.
“Asura? Seriously?”
He flashed his dimple and dropped me a wink.
Asura was the hottest restaurant in the city. You had to reserve months in advance to get a table. The owner, known only as Vritra, was also the new CEO of Shaitan Enterprises. The company had previously been owned and run by supernaturals and was a direct competitor to Brahma Corp, which was run by gods. But after the almost apocalypse five years ago, many of the gods who had been in slumber had awoken, and for the first time we’d seen the emergence of asuras—demi-gods eager to assimilate into our world. Swarga, their heaven, was closed to them, had been for almost a century. When the first wave of demons had terrorized the world, the gods had come down and fought alongside mortals. They’d used their divine power to thwart the threat and by doing so locked themselves out of the celestial plane. So, gods and demi-gods were a part of our world now, at least until Indra, Varuna, and the other gods recharged enough to access the celestial plane. But for now, they were stuck with the mortals.
Banner got out of the car and opened my door for me, holding out his hand to help me out. Chucking the keys to the valet, he offered me his arm to lead me up the prettily lit path to the polished glass entrance.
The air was warm against the bare skin of my shoulders, but a shiver skittered up my
spine.
Paimon.
Inside was chic and minimalistic, with classy lighting just bright enough to see the meal on your plate, but dim enough to create an intimate atmosphere. The tables were spaced far enough apart to encourage private conversation, and a bar ran all along the back of the building, at least twelve meters long. Staff glided about as if walking on air. And the conversation was at the perfect level between buzz and hum.
A maître de greeted us and led us to our table for two. He handed Banner a wine list and two menus and then slipped away.
Banner undid the cuffs of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, exposing tanned, toned arms. “So, what do you fancy?” He studied his menu.
There were no prices, but then, what to expect in such an elite spot? I bet a salad would cost me a hundred pounds in this place, but I’d never been a salad girl, not even on a real date. “I’ll have the steak, medium.”
“A woman after my heart.” He grinned, flashing me those sweet dimples of his. “I’ll have the same.”
A waiter appeared as if by magick … which it could very well be. The demi-gods, from what I’d heard, employed a lot of witch-bloods not affiliated with covens.
Banner gave our order and sat back in his seat. A glass of brandy appeared at his elbow and a glass of house white at mine.
“I did some research,” Banner said. “There are only thirteen Ghandarva in the city. They formed Perfect Leisure together, and they reside in the upper floors of the tower. When we get there, we’ll need to scope out the party and confirm one is missing.”
“What if he isn’t … missing, I mean. There have been no reports. The feathers all over the place could have been from a struggle. What if he isn’t hurt bad enough to lay low? And even if he is missing, if the IEPEU can influence the investigations of missing apsaras, then what’s to say they haven’t done the same for a missing Ghandarva?”
“Those are good points,” his tone indicated surprise. “Look, we can’t force the IEPEU to give out classified information. All we can do is focus on the Ghandarva. If they’re all accounted for, then we check out their wings. Ghandarva don’t heal immediately. If one had a bunch of feathers ripped out, then it will be noticeable.”
Binding Magick: an Urban Fantasy Novel (The Witch Blood Chronicles Book 1) Page 8