by Michele Hauf
His self-satisfied smirk did not rile her. Too much. Age was relative when a person had immortality; he should know that. She snapped the rubber band she wore about her wrist. The man would not like to see her dark magic in all its wicked glory.
“You have been brought to Paris to assist us in locating Gazariel.”
The sigil she’d worn since the seventeenth century burned over her skin. “Quit saying that name,” she insisted. “You only grant the demon more power with each utterance. Do you know that?”
Apparently he did not.
The man hung his head for a few seconds, then looked up at her. “I know my demon lore. Basically. The saying a name three times thing generally only works with Himself. Demons are much more slippery when it comes to summoning them. Which is why you are here in Paris.”
Paris! She could not believe this.
“Now, you’ll serve to lure the demon to us—me, since I’m in charge of this mission—and then I will obtain from him what we seek to contain.”
“The demon has something you want?”
He nodded. “It’s dangerous to all. In the demon’s hands, the world could be destroyed.”
Tuesday scoffed. Always so dramatic with the end-of-the-world crap. It was never a small portion of the world, but the whole thing. What kind of villain would even think to destroy a world he would like to remain on to rule? The demon couldn’t rule anything if he didn’t have followers to bow down to him. End of the world, her ass.
But then she considered what she knew about Gazariel. He was a trickster. His title was The Beautiful One. Because he was a pretty bit of charm and allure. Vain and self-serving, as well. And deadly. He liked to take advantage of a person when they were at their lowest, defeated. But most importantly, he was an asshole. And she didn’t want to get any closer to him than she already was. Wearing his sigil did not make her his bitch—so long as she kept her distance from him.
“So let me get this straight.” She walked up to the bars until the shock waves from the wards teased at her skin and lifted the hairs in her pores. Must have been warded by another dark witch with a tech edge. It messed with her personal vibrations, so she took a step back and, with a thought, pulled a white light over herself. All she could manage in this damnable cage was a weak veil, but it gave her some solace. “You want to dangle me before the demon as bait?”
The man tapped a finger against his jaw, then nodded. “Yes, that’s about it.”
She turned and paced in a half arc, hands to her hips, head down in thought. A glance to the man’s face found him stoic, trying to show her he would not back down, no matter what. Tough guy, pushing around a helpless woman. Been there, done that. Never going to let it happen again.
If she should refuse him, he would force her. And enjoy it. Typical male.
But he didn’t know Tuesday Knightsbridge at all. Helplessness was not a condition she had ever ascribed to. And that would give her the upper hand.
“Sounds like fun,” she said cheerily. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 2
Another man entered the clean room and Tuesday immediately felt familiar vibrations flow off of him. Another dark witch. He was tall and lean, and everything about him was black, from his long straight hair and thin mustache to his clothing. Spell tattoos covered his hands and exposed neck. A coil of thin rope was attached to his hip holster à la the Wild West. Weird. Also, he wasn’t wearing shoes.
“You’ve got her in a cage?” he said to the vampire. “What the hell?”
“She’s dangerous,” Ethan said.
Yeah, and don’t forget it, buddy. But Tuesday didn’t say that.
Instead she crossed her arms and stood in the cage center, taking in her opponents. The dark one was on alert in his movements as he walked around the cage as if sizing up an animal. Shame threatened to rise up in her. She’d been made to feel like less than dirt many times before. Always by those who claimed witches were foul and evil things, and who would seek to allay their shortcomings and misguided beliefs by harming her. But that had been centuries ago.
Would this world never get a clue and drop the old, ingrained prejudices?
“This is Certainly Jones,” Ethan said to her. “He’s head of the Archives and our resident dark witch.”
“Are you okay? Have you been treated well?” Certainly asked her. A touch of British accented his voice, and his tone felt calming.
“I’ve been kidnapped. Most likely drugged. I’m hungry. And I have to pee,” she offered. “How’s tricks with you?”
He stopped before the front of the cage and looked over his shoulder at the militant vampire. “You should feed her. And let her go to the bathroom.”
“As soon as we’ve shackled her, she can do whatever she desires.”
“Shackle?” Tuesday closed her eyes, fisting her fingers at her sides. “What the hell is going on?”
“We need you to work for us. You’ve agreed, saying it would be fun,” Ethan said. “But in order to work alongside me you’ll have to be out of this cage. And I can’t risk you running off or using your magic against me. CJ here has a simple shackle spell that’ll keep you subdued.”
“You are a—” She lunged, aiming to grasp through the cage bars, but too late, she remembered it was electrified. The jolt sent her flying backward again to land on her back in a sprawl. “I hate you!”
“I don’t need you to like me. I just need you to help me find Gazariel.”
“Stop saying that bastard’s name,” she said from her position on the floor. Humiliated and utterly exhausted, she wasn’t about to pull herself up until he gave her a good reason to do so.
“Saying the demon’s name won’t invoke him,” Certainly said.
“I know that. I just hate his name. You think the two of us were friends? That’s why I’m wearing his sigil?” Letting her head fall back, she flipped them both the bird from the floor.
“She’s definitely going to be a handful,” Certainly commented. “Open the cage and let me in. I’ve got this rope bespelled to shackle her.”
The dark witch was coming inside with her? Well...she wasn’t in the mood to fight him. And he thought to shackle her with a rope spell? That wasn’t going to go as successfully for him as he expected. Tuesday decided to play along. Just for giggles.
The bars suddenly flickered with static and then Tuesday felt the electric energy shut off. The cage door swung open with a creak. She remained splayed on the floor as the dark witch stepped up into the cage and padded over and stood above her. The door closed and she heard the vampire twist the lock then tap in a digital code.
“I’m sorry about this,” Certainly said. “I know you didn’t ask for this, but sometimes things have to be done to ensure worse things don’t happen.”
“Now you’re going to tell me not to blame you and that we can all get along, right? Peace, love and ‘Kumbaya’? Get it done with, witch. I do need to use the facilities.”
“Will you stand, please?”
Tuesday held up her hand and gestured for him to grab it to help her stand. As he did so, she felt his magic jolt against her own. He was strong, but not as powerful as her. But he was cute, and she had a plan, so she was going to let him off easy. Mostly. And hell, she wasn’t sure she could even invoke her magic inside this crazy warded cage. But she wouldn’t be Tuesday Knightsbridge if she didn’t give it a go.
She slapped her palms to his temples and fixed her gaze onto his intense jade eyes. Before he knew to look away she fixed onto his soul. It was a witch’s skill, to hold a soul fix on another witch. She felt his inner struggle, his need to close his eyes and lock her out. But she had been doing this far too long to allow anyone escape from her delving soul gaze.
The witch’s soul was dark to the core. Less than two centuries old, he’d walked a free and defiant path. He was...connected closely to a
nother. A twin? Yes, he had a twin brother for whom he held great love and respect. He’d once carried dozens of demons within him after a trip to Daemonia. Some of those demons had made him hurt himself. Others had taught him to care more deeply than he could have fathomed. And...the man loved deeply. Another witch, who was mother to his one-year-old twin sons.
That feeling, the emotion of unconditional love that flooded the man’s system, pricked at Tuesday’s willpower. She winced, fearing what may happen should she allow herself to linger in his eyes. To fall into the deep and devastating emotion of love.
Tuesday released the man and he stumbled backward, catching himself before he hit the bars.
“What did she do to you?” Ethan asked from outside the cage.
“I’m...fine,” Certainly said, catching his hands on his knees and huffing. It took a lot out of a person to have his soul tapped. “She just...”
“I looked into his soul,” Tuesday explained to Ethan. “I like this one. He’s strong.” She pointed at the vampire. “You. I do not like.”
“We’ve already discussed our mutual lack of admiration for one another. Like isn’t a requirement to work together. You going to be okay, CJ?”
The dark witch nodded. “Yep. Just gathering back my wits.” He straightened and snapped the simple rope before him in warning. “You going to behave?”
Tuesday nodded. “I saw your wife. You love her very much.”
“I would die for her,” Certainly said with an ease that tugged at Tuesday’s hardened heart. Because she believed that he would. What a lucky woman.
Romantics and silly sops would have a person believe love was the be-all and end-all. Whatever.
“Get on with it.”
She held her hands before her, wrists together, waiting to be bound. The rope wouldn’t impact her movement or physical health. It would keep her from performing any sort of magic, hex, spell or charm. But if the rope was damaged after the spell had been cast...
“On second thought,” she said, “it’ll work better if you drape it across my chest.”
“Across your heart,” Certainly said. “Good idea. And you will need the use of your hands.” He lowered the lariat over her head and rested it on a shoulder, then draped it across her heart to fall between her breasts. “You’re going to have to remove the crystal.”
“I never take it off.”
“The spell won’t fix otherwise.”
She shook her head and clasped the cool obsidian.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Certainly asked.
“Did they drug me?” she asked quietly. “Just tell me what they used to incapacitate me.”
“I don’t know for sure. Henbane, possibly?”
Tuesday nodded. Henbane, when mixed with a vile adjuvant, could take out a witch for the better part of a day. Damn it! Her wards should have caught that.
Certainly Jones could prove an ally if she played her cards right. But for now she must submit in order to gain freedom. She pulled the leather cord from around her neck and handed it to him. “That must be returned to me immediately.”
“It will. You’ll be able to wear it after I’ve cast the spell.” He tucked the crystal in his front pocket, then jumped a little in reaction.
“It’s not yours to possess,” Tuesday warned. “It will come back to me quickly.”
“I get that.” He tapped the rope. “This will shackle your magic only against Ethan Pierce. You will still be able to wield magic in all other instances. It may be necessary to protect yourself against the demon.”
“I appreciate that. What the hell is that guy?”
Certainly looked over a shoulder. Ethan paced, arms across his chest.
“Vampire.”
“I know that. I mean, what’s his deal? He’s so...angry.”
“Really? This coming from the angriest witch I’ve ever met?”
“You guys did kidnap me.”
“Point taken. Don’t give Pierce such a hard time. He generally works behind the desk telling others what to do. But I think this time it’s personal.”
“How so?”
Certainly shrugged. “Not sure. And even if I did have a clue? That’s for him to give to you, not me. Close your eyes.”
Tuesday did so because she was tired and wanted to get out of this stupid cage. Much as shackling her magic against anyone would piss her off, at the very least he wasn’t completely disabling her.
The witch chanted a spell that caused the rope to suddenly squeeze about her. She felt the sigil beneath her shirt warm and reach out for the rope. It didn’t like being controlled. Which was a good thing. And she counted on its retaliation.
In a matter of moments the witch said, “So mote it be.”
And the rope fell slack again, as if an ill-hung necklace. Tuesday let out a breath. Her skin tingled, but otherwise, she didn’t feel any different. In the next instant, the obsidian on the cord flew out from the witch’s pocket and landed smartly in Tuesday’s grasp.
The cage door opened and Ethan asked, “How will we know it worked?”
“It worked.” CJ stepped out of the cage. “My magic always works.” He winked at Tuesday. “I’m sorry, but the rope is the shackle. You’ll have to figure out your own style for that.” He turned to Ethan. “You going to take her upstairs for a bit, then...off to adventure?”
The men shared a look that was a few seconds too long for Tuesday not to wonder what had gone unspoken.
“Right,” Ethan suddenly said. “I’ve got some things to finish up in the office. Come on, witch.”
“Really? You’re going to let your new pet out on a leash?” She flopped the lariat around before her. “Aren’t you the kindest master ever.”
“Good luck,” CJ said and wandered out of the room.
“Get out of the cage, witch.”
She stepped up to the threshold. “My name is Tuesday. Treat me well and I will return the kindness.”
Ethan nodded. “Lead me to the demon and I’ll be more than grateful.”
“I’m not going to lead you anywhere without cold hard cash.”
“What?”
“You think I’m going to do this for nothing? Slavery went out last century. If you want me to cooperate we need to talk money.” She jumped down onto the concrete floor, blessedly relieved to have left the smothering confines of that magic-busting cage. With a shiver and a flip of her hair over her shoulder, she walked up to the man.
He stood a head higher than her, but she was accustomed to looking up to people, mostly men. Her stance spoke louder than her lacking height.
“How much do you want?” he asked, surprising her that he hadn’t argued.
“A million. US dollars, not your freaky French euros.”
He broke out into throaty laughter that, in any other circumstance, might have grasped her by the lusting heart and teased her to flutter her lashes at him. But this was not any other time. With a flick of her forefinger, Tuesday tossed a beam of pain at the vampire. The magic burst into a spray of violet sparks just inches from his face and dispersed.
Damn shackle.
“Good to see CJ’s spell works,” he said. “Tough luck, witch. I’m impervious to your magic now.”
Only so long as the shackle stayed in place. And her sigil was so hot that it could burn through pretty much anything right now...
“Half a million then,” she said.
“Ten grand.”
Tuesday spun and jumped up into the cage opening. “I think I’ll stay here then. Apparently, I’m the only one who can do what you need done. I’m worth more than a few bucks. You think about it, then get back to me.”
“I’ve got a budget, witch.”
“And I’ve got all the time in the world. Do you?”
He rubbed his stubble-shadowed jaw. Tuesday
rather liked it when a man tickled his stubble over her skin, as his gaze journeyed down her stomach and lower. And his beard was frosted with a touch of grey in the dark brown, which added a delicious seasoning to his appearance. If the man wasn’t so obstinate he’d actually be sexy.
“A hundred thousand,” he offered. “That’s as high as I can go.”
“Deal.” Tuesday jumped down again and marched past him toward the door. She would have taken the ten grand. “Let’s get out of this dungeon. Did you forget I need to pee?”
* * *
The witch had gone into the private bathroom attached to the office Ethan occupied in headquarters. There were no windows in the small washroom for her to escape through, so he trusted her to shut the door.
Meanwhile, he checked his email. No new orders waiting for retrieval assignment. And he’d sent details regarding his taking this particular mission to the Council. No reply, so far, was good news.
He glanced to the maple-wood bathroom door. He and CJ had only planned things so far. And that plan hadn’t quite come to complete fruition. It would, soon enough. He wasn’t sure how he was going to work with the witch.
She was obstinate. A smart-ass. And he hadn’t expected her to be gorgeous. Utterly beautiful. In a weird, silver Goth sort of way. Behind her defensive, smart mouth and angry rubber band-snapping machinations he felt sure a sensual goddess inhabited the irresistible curves and gemstone blue eyes.
He raked fingers through his hair and shook his head. What was he thinking? He needed to do this right. He was the boss. And he wasn’t about to show weakness or failure to his employees by letting his thoughts stray from the task at hand.
He’d handle the witch with a strong hand and command. He had to stay on guard with her. To set an example for others. But it would prove a challenge, not only because of her odd appeal, but also because it had been so long since he’d actually worked a mission. If she learned that he was questioning his own abilities—and thus had taken the job to prove he wasn’t washed up and was physically capable of handling such a mission—he’d never succeed.
* * *
They headed out, Tuesday following Ethan’s sure gait. It was a confident walk. A sexy walk. After many turns and an elevator ride down four floors, the sight of a door up ahead gave her great glee. Soon.