Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

  “Don’t do this, Mercer…” There was an ethereal breathless quality to her voice, which was incredibly arousing, but sex was the last thing on his mind.

  Immediately sinking his fingers into the hollow of her throat, depressing them against her windpipe, he stopped any further implorations. He didn’t want to hear anything but the sound of her heart as it stuttered then began to fade under his voracious appetite.

  After a pint or two of her blood, he’d already begun to feel much better. As his thirst diminished, the red haze slowly began to recede along with the tired, dizzy feeling of exhaustion. He sucked harder because the beast inside him desired it, even as his strength started to return. The bitter aftertaste to her blood was a little disconcerting but he couldn’t afford to be choosey right now, for neither his energy nor inclination was such to force him to find another victim.

  “Dammit, Mercer, you’re normally discreet enough to use the back entrance.”

  At first, he thought he had imagined the annoying voice that somehow managed to penetrate his consciousness. He didn’t pay it any attention until a white-hot searing pain scored his throat.

  “Let her go. You can’t kill this one.”

  With several ropes of silver chain now around his neck, Mercer swayed in agony but he did not release his grip on the girl. It was a survival instinct. Snarling his displeasure, he tried to whip his head around and fight the hold Guillaume had on his neck but it was of no use, the healthy vampire behind him was much stronger.

  With an especially vicious yank, the chains snapped his head back and his fangs retracted out of their warm, comforting hiding place. He howled in frustration, but there was no fighting the strength of the grip around his throat. The chains dug into his flesh and burned with an un-abating fury. Having no choice but to release the girl, he stumbled to the floor crushed by the weight of silver bearing down upon him.

  Mercer heard Guillaume bark commands at the girl. “Run. There’s a safe room at the top of the chateau. Take the main staircase, and veer left. It’s the last room on the left hand side. Go inside, lock it, and do not open it under any circumstances until I give my permission. Go!”

  Through the waning red haze, Mercer watched Lainey struggle to get to her feet but once she was up, she hit the ground running. Flying through the air, her bare feet skidded across the gravel more than once but she didn’t stop, and she didn’t look back.

  In the meantime, Mercer had managed to roll over, dislodging the chains, and removing their suffocating pressure. Quickly back on his feet, he got ready to go to war with Guillaume but the other vampire was too fast for him. Mercer felt a sharp prick in his left arm and he immediately knew that no matter how fast he ran, he wouldn’t make it to the chateau steps, let alone to the bolted hideaway at the top where Lainey would be hiding.

  “You bastard.” Mercer’s head was once again swaying but this time it was from the massive dose of Methohexital that Guillaume had just pumped into him. He stood stunned for a couple of seconds, his arms cradling his upper body, his hand rubbing the point of the needle’s entry, and then he crashed to the ground. He struggled to get back up but only reached his knees.

  “You’ll thank me later. Just hurry up and pass out so I can get you into the house and put ten pints of O neg in you. When you wake up, you’ll be feeling right as rain. I’ll do my best to get the bullets out while I’m at it. It’d be a damn shame to have to do it when you’re conscious and wailing your head off.”

  “Fuck…” Mercer watched the rough gravel of the drive come toward his face even as the word you faded away on his lips.

  Chapter 8

  Lainey was out of breath and exhausted before she managed to get halfway up the imposing grand staircase, but it didn’t slow her down in the slightest. The warm trickle of blood down the side of her neck was warning enough that there was a killer on the loose, and there was no way she’d stop sprinting until she reached her destination. Left, left, go left.

  Using the bannister, she pushed herself along, her legs dragging like lead weights, until she reached the long carpeted passage at the top. Picking up speed again, she raced to the end of hall and found the door she was looking for—it was made of metal. Silver.

  Opening it and then slamming the thing behind her, she turned around to yank the lock into place. Sinking to the floor, she placed her head in her hands before sobbing her heart out.

  It took her a long while to calm down. The day had been a long one, and the stress overload heaped upon her had been phenomenal. All she wanted to do was curl up into a nice warm bed and wake up to find that this had all been a bad dream.

  When the last of her hiccupping sobs had finally died, she sniffled for a bit and rubbed at her eyes. They felt big, puffy, and swollen while the rest of her felt sore, dizzy, and weak. Still, she was alive and for that, she could be thankful. Her brain felt wired, and thoughts buzzed inside her head with no answers. Was Mercer all right? Did he have enough blood? Could she trust his friend? How long would they have until people starting chasing after them again? Feeling the puncture wounds on her neck throb, she groaned but was almost grateful for the distraction.

  Taking a good look around the room, she decided to get acquainted with her new surroundings. Having no idea how long she might be stuck in here, she figured she might as well explore. A large four-poster bed covered in red velvet drapes dominated the room. It was awash with big fat embroidered leaf cushions and looked very inviting. To the rear of the room was a writing desk with a few French magazines scattered across its surface, as well as a large vase containing white carnations and gerbera daisies, interspersed with brightly coloured orange berries. Off to the right was a door which led towards a small en-suite bathroom with the usual suspects—basin, toilet and shower. A plush red carpet covered the floor, and thick wooden beams decorated the ceiling coming together in an A shape. Put simply, it was stunning.

  Walking around towards the writing desk, she found a little nook with a cream-colored sofa and a television. Although she would have loved to relax by watching some TV, she didn’t bother picking up the remote control knowing everything would be in French.

  Sighing, she was just about to turn away when a few items on a small coffee table beside the sofa caught her eye. The first item she spied was a bright red first aid kit. Alongside it, sat a little white plastic card stating, Use Me. There was also a plate of bread and cheese, a small kettle, various sachets of coffees and teas, a bottle of mineral water and finally, two little orange pills accompanied by a similar white card as the first but this one stated, Eat Me. On closer inspection, she realized the orange pills were iron tablets, the meaning of which brought tears to her eyes again. Her vampire had arranged all of this several hours ago, knowing she might have need of it if he went into beast mode. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He’d just had no choice.

  Plonking her weary body down upon the sofa, she lifted the first aid kit into her lap and inspected the contents. It didn’t take long to locate a sterile wipe, some antiseptic cream, and a couple of butterfly sutures to stem the flow of blood. Moving to the bathroom, she set about cleaning herself up by having a quick shower, and then she applied the various ointments and a large plaster to her wound. As soon as she finished administering them, she wrapped herself in the fluffy white bathrobe, which had been thoughtfully provided. Padding back across to the sofa, she ate her small meal and had several cups of soothing tea laden with sugar. She then took the tablets knowing they’d help with the blood loss she’d experienced, and then laid back against the sofa. Her eyelids felt so heavy that there could have been lead weights attached to them, but she didn’t want to sleep just yet. She told herself that she wanted to crawl into that big comfortable looking bed in a minute, as soon as she could summon enough energy to move. That was the last thought that crossed her mind for a long while.

  A loud banging on the wall awoke her in such a jolting manner that she nearly fell off the sofa, as everything in the room seemed t
o vibrate.

  “Are you okay in there?”

  The banging and rattling continued, but she recognised the voice. He was the vampire who’d told her to run earlier. Still groggy, she forced her eyes open and noted the room had gone dark. She must have slept for hours. She fumbled around for a light switch. Locating one, she flipped it and shielded her eyes against the intense glare.

  “I’m fine,” she called out, stretching her stiff muscles. “Is Mercer all right? Can I come out now?”

  “He’ll live, if that’s the right word. I’ve put ten pints of blood in him, and he’s sleeping off the drug I gave him. He should be out for at least another couple of hours, which is why I’ve come to ask for your help. I need someone to give me a hand stitching him up. My fingers are way too big for needle and thread work.”

  Lainey grimaced, but she’d seen more than her fair share of blood especially of late. It was the least she could do for the vampire who was trying so hard to keep her alive.

  “I’ll be out in ten minutes. I don’t suppose you have any clean clothes I could wear?”

  “Check the wardrobe. Mercer apprised me of your size before you arrived. There should be something in there that will fit.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly and couldn’t help but wonder if there would be some underwear in there. No further conversation was forthcoming, so Lainey wasted no time in following his instructions. She knew she had to hurry, for the thought of stitching up a fully awake and howling vampire was not a pleasant one.

  The oak armoire held soft fleecy sweaters in several different colours and there were three different pairs of slim-fit denim jeans from which to choose also. By some miracle, there was underwear and though it was of the racy lace variety, Lainey was so grateful that it was there at all she didn’t care that it left most of her ass on display. The bra wasn’t really of much use either but any covering was better than nothing, especially near Mercer.

  Shimmying her way into a pair of skin-tight jeans, Lainey thought back to earlier. Goddamn. He bit me! It was only one bite, his first, so it wasn’t anything to worry about but she didn’t want to put herself in that situation again. Three bites and he’d never forgive her. That was all it would take to bond the vampire to her for life, and that wasn’t something she ever wanted to contemplate. He’d go berserk, she was sure. It was just one bite, nothing to worry about she reassured herself. Picking up a black sweater, she threw it over her head and pushed her hair back. She was ready.

  Opening the door cautiously, she was relieved to find that all was quiet on the other side. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected but after what she’d been through, she was feeling jumpy. After two near death experiences, she supposed that kind of reaction was probably to be expected. Landing on the bottom step of the staircase, she looked both left and right for a clue as to which way to go. There was a vast array of rooms and directions to choose from, and she suspected she’d soon get lost if she started exploring.

  “We’re in the dining room to your right.”

  Vampires…they heard every little thing. She wondered how anyone could ever get used to that. Trying to hide anything around a vampire was a waste of time for it would be found out in an instant. She swallowed hard thinking about her own secrets.

  Unable to resist glancing to her left as the staircase ended, she found a magnificent sitting room with a crackling log fire in full blaze. The room was full of mirrors that reflected the light, and the overstuffed damask chairs gave it a comfortable homely feel. There were many massive paintings hung on the walls in huge, gilt frames and huge Persian rugs decorated the old oak floor.

  “Come along then, slow coach.”

  Guillaume’s voice was friendly, but assertive. He had that annoying vampire trick of using just a little compulsion in his tone and even though Lainey knew it was there, it was hard to resist. It mattered little. She wanted to help Mercer. He deserved at least that much from her.

  Marching quickly into the dining room, the first thing that captured her attention was the large rectangular table but not because it was huge, or a veritable masterpiece with legs that had been painstakingly carved into grapes and vine leaves. It wasn’t the delicate grain either, that swirled and swayed into lovely dark knots. No, none of those things but instead the vampire who lay slumped across it on his stomach that made her gasp in shock. Stripped from head to toe, holes covered Mercer’s body from the tops of his shoulder blades down to curve of his backside. He was absolutely riddled with the things.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, and felt her head swim with nausea. He looked a mess. It was a good thing he wasn’t human for there was no way he would have survived had that been the case.

  “He’s not in the best of shape, no,” said Guillaume, who was busy foraging inside one of the holes with a pair of stainless steel forceps. He had a clear glass bowl on the table beside the unconscious vampire, and it was already half full with lumps of metal.

  Lainey clutched a hand to her stomach and swayed. What the hell was wrong with her? She didn’t normally faint at the sight of blood. In fact, normally she was knee deep in the stuff and it didn’t affect her at all. She looked at Guillaume and wondered if he’d somehow managed to drug her whilst she was asleep, but he soon put her fears to rest.

  “It’s the blood loss. Mercer must have taken about two pints from you. I’ve left some food for you over on the sideboard. It’s boeuf bourguignon. There’s a lot of iron in it, so it’ll help you recover. After you’ve finished that, there’s some tarte tatin with lots of caramel and sugar. That should boost the energy levels up a bit, because I’m guessing my dear friend hasn’t fed you much since you met him, right?” Lainey shook her head slowly, unable to answer him as she was already tucking into the dish of beef stew. It was heavenly and great food was the last thing she had expected to find in the home of a vampire.

  As if he could read her thoughts, Guillaume smiled. “I’m an anomaly in the vampire world. Even though I don’t eat, I love to cook.” He waved her away to a chair at the back of the room. “Eat first then you can come help me. I’ll be just about finished by then.”

  It was no hardship doing exactly as he instructed. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was until she’d picked up her spoon. In no time at all, the bowl was empty and she was mourning its loss. Thankfully, dessert proved equally as tasty and by the time the last slice of apple had left her plate, she was feeling very content.

  “Just leave the plates over there, and pick up that needle and surgical thread on the way back.”

  Lainey’s head snapped around in shock. “How did you know I had finished…?”

  Guillaume winked at her. “I heard you lay your spoon down. It will take you a while to get used to our vampiric hearing, but believe me when I say we hear everything.”

  Lainey could well believe it. Doing as he instructed, she picked up the clear plastic packet he had left by the window, opened it, and pulled a needle from it.

  “I am Guillaume, by the way.”

  She turned her head around to face him and smiled. “Guillaume. Is there something I can use to sterilise the needle? A naked flame or some antiseptic…” The sound of laughter cut her sentence off abruptly.

  “He’s a vampire, my dear girl. He’s not going to be concerned about things like infection. We have bigger problems to worry about so if you can sew, thread that needle and start getting rid of those holes.” Guillaume managed to remove the last bullet with a deft flourish of his hand, and gave a hearty sigh.

  Lainey looked at Mercer’s large naked body spread out over the table and gave the needle in her hand a wary look. Could she actually do this? Having stitched up no end of wounds on people, the mechanics of the chore were not what worried her but whether she could perform them on him. The damn vampire made her hands shake in the worst way. Was it because of the near death experience? She shook her head ruefully. Her hesitation and apprehension at performing such as task on him wasn’t about fearing for
her life. This was about the laws of attraction, pure and simple. Oh hell, don’t tell me I’ve gone and fallen for a vampire.

  Trying to thread the needle with Guillaume’s sharp eyes upon her, Lainey took a large gulp of air and tried to still her frantically beating heart. It took an almost meditative state of mind, including a few palm trees and lapping oceans, before the thread finally went through the hole.

  “Why do we have to stitch him up? Won’t he heal all by himself?” They were valid questions. Yes, she wanted to touch the deliciously muscled and satin smooth skin lying just beneath her hand but she’d much rather be doing it in private, and with her lips. Oh God. She hadn’t just thought that, had she? This was crazy thinking. She couldn’t think like this.

  “He will, but not within the timescale with which we have to work with. If I am correct, you’ll have a whole army of misfits charging down my driveway in a few hours. We need Mercer fighting fit and not leaking all over the carpet—so he can fight and kill. If he’s incapacitated, it’s just you and me, and I don’t think that will have a very pretty ending.”

  Lainey gulped, and gritting her teeth, she sunk the needle into one of the holes near his shoulder blade. She couldn’t even look at his firm backside, and she could feel her cheeks already flaming. She decided she’d better keep talking in order to distract herself. “Will he be able to fight if he’s still injured?”

  “He won’t be in top form but I’m sure he’ll do okay. I just hope that they don’t send any nasties.” Guillaume picked up his glass bowl full of bullets, and stood up. “Right then, I’m just going to dispose of these. Think you can handle things for a minute?”

  She nodded. “What are nasties?” she whispered, concentrating fiercely on the needle which now flew threw her fingers.