For a moment, it threw me, made me question my choice. But what had I expected? I’d known he would take blood. He waited patiently for me to make the next move, waited for me to process what was happening. I lowered my lips to his, darting my tongue between those long canines.
Heart pounding, I crawled off him to the end of the bed. He tried to follow, but I had other things in mind. I liked control, and today I would have it. Arms shot out of the bed and gripped him to the duvet. Twelve of them. All mine, of course—echoes of my own. I crawled to the end of the bed and watched my magic at work. My echo hands grabbed handfuls of his shiny red matador outfit and, at my command, ripped it off and cast it aside. He tried to reach for me, but my magic was stronger than him here, and I was enjoying every second of this game.
“Mmmm. What shall I do with you now that I’ve caught you?” I whispered. The candles blazed higher, fed by my emotions.
Languorously, I worked my real hands up his legs from his feet, dipping down to lick his inner thigh. He growled. Power, so thick it was like we were under water, filled me and connected us as it had before. Every kiss, every caress registered in my body as if it were done to me. I lapped up his hard shaft, toying with the heavy weights at the base. I circled the tip with my tongue, then sucked harder, taking him deep into my throat.
He moaned and arched into me.
I released him slowly from my mouth as I prowled up his body, brushing my breasts over the smooth expanse of his chest. My eyes caught on his scar. I’d put it there when I’d made him my caretaker. I traced my finger over it, noting that it no longer hurt for me to see it. Whatever magic unraveled within me had cured me of that malady. I raked my nails gently down his arms and flicked my tongue over his right nipple. His breath caught.
“Mi cielo, please. Please,” he begged.
When I finally reached his mouth, I spilled my hair over my shoulder to keep it out of the way and allowed my lips to linger over his. With my nose and cheek, I traced the sharp line of his jaw, warm skin on skin. I ached to have him inside of me, but owning him like this was exquisite torture. I rolled my hips against him until he moaned my name, and I couldn’t take it any longer. I positioned him at my entrance. My echo hands retreated into the bed as I lowered my hips.
Slowly. Slowly. I had to go slow or I feared he would split me open. Truly though, the pleasure was unbelievable. I felt my own but then I felt his as well. Up and down, I worked him into me inch by throbbing inch. He held himself back, patiently waiting for me to get comfortable with his size. But once he was completely in me, he began moving, kissing me, my neck, my ear, rubbing his hands down the length of my body.
Then he flipped me up. It was effortless, like I weighed nothing. He folded his lower legs under and rose to a kneeling position on the bed, grabbing me under my butt so we were chest to chest and hip to hip. In this position, he was so deep it was almost painful. He thrust into me, worked his hand up my stomach, cradled my breast. I arched backward, and he sucked my nipple. The rhythm of our bodies caused the pleasure to build, greater and greater until I was at the edge.
“Mi cielo,” he moaned, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. The words echoed warm and sweet inside my head. “It’s time. Pick up your blade.”
I did as he said, and it did not burn my hand. I allowed him to guide the blade to the right side of his neck and pressed the sharp bone into his flesh. Just as the orgasm overcame me, he moved my hand, slicing open the skin over his jugular. His other hand palmed the back of my head, pulling my mouth to the wound.
The thought of drinking blood had never intrigued me before, but Rick’s blood was liquid orgasm. Pleasure flowed from my lips to my toes and then settled between my legs, causing me to come again and again. His release mirrored my own, and I milked Rick of what he pumped into me as the warm blood coated my throat. The power bound us together, made each orgasm feed the next.
His teeth sank into my neck and shoulder, a wide bite that drew blood but wasn’t painful. My flesh moved aside to allow him access. Warm and wet, blood dripped down my back, washed into his mouth, and I sucked from Rick while he drank from me, pleasing each other in every possible way.
I was vaguely aware of a wind circling us, stirring up the sand in the arena, gentle at first but then with a terrible force. We were in the eye of a hurricane, a cyclone of power.
Time stopped. I raised my head. A trail of Rick’s blood dripped from the corner of my mouth to my chin. I wiped it away with the back of my hand. The grains of sand from the arena hovered like static in the air. Rick was motionless at my neck. The candles were frozen mid-flicker. Everything had stopped but me.
“What the fuck?” I said, watching as the ceiling opened up above me.
A ball of light appeared and plowed into my chest with such force, it took my breath away. I gasped, and time knocked back into its flow. The sand fell and so did we, onto the bed.
Panting and spent, Rick pulled out of me, rolling to his side and wrapping me within a cocoon of his body. He burrowed his face into the back of my hair. “I love you,” he said into my ear.
I wanted to respond in kind. I wanted to say I loved him too. At that moment I even felt like I did. But I wasn’t sure if it was the magic or the memories or the fantastic sex. So I didn’t say it. He didn’t press for a response. He held me until it was obvious that we had to get back to business if we wanted to have any hope of saving Michelle.
But I found myself longing for five more minutes in his arms.
Chapter 22
I Perform My First Exorcism
Once the arena dissolved into the attic’s sanded wood floor, and Rick left to check on Marcus/Michelle, Logan returned. For a long time, he stared at me with the hollow expression of someone who’d completely lost hope. My heart broke to see him like this, and I opened my mouth to say something, anything to comfort him.
He cut me off. “Not now, Grateful. You’re running out of darkness. Save your friend.” He glanced toward the Book of Light.
I walked over to the tome and used two hands to open it. In my last lifetime, I must have been a freak about organization. It was tabbed like an encyclopedia. Exorcism-Vampires in the E section right after Exorcism-General and right before Exorcism-Wraiths.
The spell seemed simple enough. Forcing the vamp out was the easy part. Keeping him out was the greater challenge. A puree of honey, sage, and lemon balm had to be poured over the victim. The concoction acted as a one-way membrane to keep the vampire out of the victim’s body. Salt, sprinkled in a ring around Michelle and me would act as a boundary to contain the vamp once released.
“Logan, can you make this puree for me? You’re the best with the food processor.” Anything to get him to stop staring at me like I’d killed his puppy.
He nodded and disappeared. A moment later I heard cabinet doors open in the kitchen and the scrape of the food processor being loaded onto the kitchen island.
Rick grimaced in the direction of the sound, like Logan was a rodent in the walls. I shook my head. I had other problems.
“We can’t leave Michelle in the bindings. Marcus has to be able to get out during the spell. But if we take the ropes off, he could attack me, using Michelle’s body. You’ll have to hold her down.”
“I can’t,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I’ll upset the balance of power within the ring.”
“Crap. We have to contain her body.” I flipped pages in my massive spell book, looking for answers.
“A paralyzation spell?” Rick offered.
I thumbed over to P. “It’s complicated. It says it takes an hour to brew.” I looked toward the darkened window.
“We don’ have that kind of time,” Rick said.
Paralysis. We needed to cause paralysis. The answer hit me. I snapped my fingers. “Propofol. We put her to sleep with medicine not magic!”
Rick stared at me blankly.
“Trust me.” I conjured a bottle of propofol, aka milk of amnesia, and some IV supplies. I
put her under on the couch in her apartment-styled attic room. I didn’t think the medication would have any effect on the vampire, but he’d be trapped within an uncooperative body.
Logan returned just in time and handed me the balm and the large container of salt from the kitchen. Once we were sure she was heavily sedated, Rick untied Michelle and removed the gag. I checked the drop rate on her IV. Once Rick and Logan were out of the way, I sprinkled the salt in a large circle around Michelle and me. The balm felt sticky and thick when I stuck my hand in, but I layered it as evenly across her body as possible. Afterward, I wished I could wash my hands, but I couldn’t leave the circle.
The power came when I called it, like an ocean wave crashing to shore. Only, I was the shore, and the force of it almost knocked me over. It’s hard to explain what it was I did to call the power or where it came from. I just know that when I made love to Rick, some part of me connected to it and afterward it was there, waiting for me as if I had grown another appendage. But like a new appendage, it felt awkward wielding it, and I didn’t have the benefit of a team of physical therapists to help me. All I had was Rick and Prudence trying to coach me from outside the circle.
“You have it, mi cielo. I can see it pulsing around you. Throw it into her chest, and your magic will drive the vampire out.”
“How do I throw it?” I asked.
Prudence answered. “I’ve seen you do it before. You bring your hands to your chest, focus on the object and then thrust them toward your target.”
I folded my hands in, concentrating on Michelle, and then pointed them at her. Nothing happened.
“The power is around you, not a part of you. You must collect it with your arms. Gather your aura, then throw it in her direction,” Rick said.
I tried again. I closed my eyes and reached out my hands to the power. It circled me in a thick cloud like cream soup. With my eyes closed, I could sense a pulse collecting in my hands. When I brought them to my chest this time, the magic came with them. A great, glowing ball of energy formed in front of me. I opened my eyes, focused fully on Michelle, and pushed with everything I had.
No way was I prepared for how quickly Marcus would emerge from Michelle’s body. He leaped on me in a flurry of slashing teeth and claws. As planned, I stepped out of the circle just in time for his face to slam into the magic barricade I’d created with the salt. Only I hadn’t thought it through. Michelle was still sedated within the circle with Marcus. She couldn’t step out because she was unconscious. Sure, he couldn’t reenter her body because of the balm, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt her. A couple of minutes of ricocheting around my magic ring, and he turned his attention on her.
“No! Leave her alone!” I yelled.
“I’m sorry, witchy poo. I can’t hear you from within this circle. Let me out and then maybe we can communicate.” He bit down on the last word, turning it into a threat.
Rick paced the edge of the salt ring, a low growl bubbling up his throat.
“Oh, please. Caretaker, you are so out of your league. Even now the vampires are growing in number. Soon our army will be large enough to circumvent your defenses. You’ll never be able to keep us in the underworld.” He walked over to Michelle’s IV and placed his hand on the clamp controlling the rate of administration.
“Leave that alone,” I said, but he began to turn the dial. The propofol flowed too quickly. If I didn’t do something she could go into cardiac arrest.
“Rick, what do I do? It could kill her.”
“You control its existence. Take it away.”
I willed the remaining drug to vanish, but it was too late. Marcus had opened the valve and allowed the anesthesia to flow into her vein as fast as her body would take it in. Her breathing slowed. She was in dangerous territory.
“I need to get to her.”
“Very well, mi cielo. Break the circle and I will fight Marcus.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. I wiped away a section of salt, and the vamp blew by me, a black wind that smelled of sulfur. I ran to Michelle’s side and took her pulse. Slow but steady.
“I need to stay with her,” I called, but Rick and Marcus were already circling each other. It was obvious Rick had this covered. I removed Michelle’s IV and put pressure on the site, trying to watch what was happening in the room behind me.
Rick dove for Marcus in fast-forward. Marcus dodged, equally fast, sending Rick somersaulting across the floor. Marcus hustled toward Rick, positioning himself to deliver a kick to his gut. I willed a concrete wall between the two and watched Marcus’ foot crash through it as if it were paper. Rick had already moved to the side, grabbed Marcus’ foot and lifted. I willed a row of wooden stakes behind Marcus, hoping he would fall backward, but he cartwheeled to the side and delivered a punch to Rick’s ribs. I winced, but Rick barely flinched. Instead, he thrashed a half-shifted hand and shredded the front of Marcus’ chest.
I was sure if he’d had the time and space to shift into his beast, Marcus would be history, but the vamp was strong, quick, and more intelligent than I had given him credit for. While I was thinking of ways to distract him to give Rick time to change, he spotted the attic window. Marcus dove through headfirst, sending a shower of glass into my front yard. Rick lunged after him.
I ran to the window and watched the chase continue toward the bridge. I thought Rick had him, but Marcus turned into fog and melted into the night. Rick followed, dematerializing. Deep inside, I knew we’d lost him. Marcus was free from the cemetery.
He’d escaped, and with him any hope of me ever taking my safety for granted.
Chapter 23
The End of a Rough Night
“The sun is rising. He’ll have to go to ground,” Rick said. He’d returned to the attic, furious he couldn’t catch Marcus. “Our best chance is to wait and find him during the day. Once he rises, he’ll try to find a free coven to protect him.”
“Free coven?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Vampires you haven’t sentenced to the underworld,” Rick clarified.
“What? Living among us?”
“You didn’t think they were all behind the gate?”
I scowled. “Yes, actually I did.”
Rick laughed.
“So how do we find him? Can you hunt him down?”
“We can do it together. If you can cast a spell to determine his general vicinity, I’ll be able to track him once we’re close.”
“Damn, I don’t feel good about him being out there.”
Rick gave a sideways nod, like any husband in America might give his wife. “I am sorry, mi cielo, that I failed to kill Marcus. This is twice he has evaded me.”
“It’s my fault. I should have thought of a way to keep Michelle safe. Holy crow! Michelle!” I raced back to the room I’d disguised as her apartment, where I’d left her with Prudence. She was sitting up on my replication of her Pottery Barn sofa, sipping ice water and looking extremely confused.
“What is going on?” Michelle asked, her head tilted.
“What do you mean?” I squeaked nervously.
“Well, unless I’ve had the worst nightmare of my life, your house is haunted, your boyfriend is a shape-shifter, and I just survived being possessed by a vampire.”
“A horrible dream?” I offered.
“Hmmm, I don’t think so. I’m covered in something gooey that smells like turkey stuffing, and I’m sitting in a room that looks exactly like my apartment did six months ago.”
Oh, crap. Michelle had decorated her apartment the same way since college, in neutral tones. But now I remembered that six months ago she’d broken down and redecorated. She’d kept the couch but thrown in some sari print pillows and a jute rug. She’d draped some gauzy stuff over the windows. I’d been to her home. I’d seen the changes. But in the stress of the situation, my brain simply reverted back to the apartment I’d spent most of my college years living in.
“How’s this?” I closed my eyes, and the new items appeared in
their places.
“Holy shit!” Michelle cried. Her mouth opened and closed several times. “It’s really disturbing, like one of those ‘find what’s different’ games. I know this isn’t my apartment but I can’t tell you exactly what’s different. Tell me what’s going on while I try to get my head around what you just did.”
I told her. I spilled my guts about everything—Rick, Logan, Prudence, my history and Monk’s Cemetery. I told her because she was my best friend, and I trusted her more than anyone. Plus she already knew most of it and, for her own safety, needed to understand the rest. When I was done, she sighed deeply and took my hand in hers.
“So Rick and Logan are the two guys you were talking about at work yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Damn. You know, if I hadn’t seen this with my own eyes I would have thought you were crazy.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I suppose that’s why you weren’t completely truthful?”
“Yep.”
“I forgive you.” She gave me a tight hug. “But no more lies, okay? I believe you now so there’s no reason to keep this from me anymore.”
“Absolutely. But Michelle, I think we should keep this between us. Don’t tell Manny. It’s too weird.” Not telling her husband would be hard for Michelle, but I needed this to stay between us.
“Of course,” she said. “Anyone else would either think we were insane or plot some way to use this to their financial advantage. And Manny doesn’t need the stress. I love you, Grateful. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Good,” I said.
Our conversation was interrupted when Prudence walked in. “Excuse me, but the sun is about to rise, and I was hoping you could name me before it breaks the horizon. I’m not excited about spending another day in this attic.”
“Of course. What do I need to do?”
She brought me a silver bowl. “Concentrate on me, and who I was will come to you. When you know where I belong, say ‘Prudence Clearwater, I release you’ and where you release me to.” The last part she said in a whisper. “Then you provide a sacrifice of blood and I will go.”
The Ghost and The Graveyard (The Monk's Hill Witch) Page 15