Wicked Soul

by Nora Ash

  “There are… certain procedures in my world,” he said, and the hesitance in his voice made it clear he was anything but comfortable with the topic. “Certain rules every supernatural being will adhere to, if they do not wish to suffer… serious consequences. I am the vampire Lord of this territory. Should anyone harm my claimed companion, I would be honorbound to hunt them and their kin to extinction. Even witches would be hesitant to touch you, once you are truly mine.”

  I bit my lip as I looked at Warin’s perfect profile, trying to fight back the roil of conflicting emotions in my gut.

  Normally, this would have been simple. I’d picked up and moved for a lot less in the past. I never stayed long enough anywhere to form lasting bonds with anyone. The smart thing—and what the panicked clenching in my gut told me was the only rational choice—would be to tell him thanks, but no thanks on his “special companion” offer. And skip town.

  Let’s stay in touch. I’ll email.

  But…

  If that was really what I wanted, then why hadn’t I done so already? Why had I gone to visit the slaughterhouse? Gotten myself tangled up further in crazy-ass supernatural mysteries?

  The answer was glaringly obvious… and currently sitting on my couch with a a faraway expression of gloom painted across his features.

  I’d never felt so… connected to another being as I did to Warin. Maybe it would have been easier to shrug it off if it was just sexual attraction, but it wasn’t. Not even close. Sure, he was smoking hot, and if things had been different I’d have happily dragged him to bed for a few rounds of commitment-free sex. I had eyes.

  And ovaries.

  Only I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the moment I fucked my vampire friend, things would be completely and irrevocably changed between us.

  And I’d lose him.

  Like I would if I high-tailed it out of Chicago with a big “no-thank-you” to dealing with any more of this mess.

  That’s why I stayed, I realized.

  For reasons I didn’t understand, reasons that made no sense, this man—this nightwalker—I’d known so shortly meant more to me than the very real threat to my life.

  More than the panic in my gut at the realization that I’d let someone all the way in.

  “Okay. I’ll go with you to the meeting,” I said, clearing my throat at the tremor in my voice. “If it means we can keep being friends, I’ll go.”

  Warin nodded, and his shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. “Thank you.” His voice was soft.

  14

  I woke up the next morning with the unmistakable woolly sensation of having gone to bed without brushing my teeth. I rolled over with a groan and realized I was still wearing my clothes from last night, apart from socks—and that I didn’t have any memory of going to bed. The last thing I remembered was sitting in silence while drawing Warin, neither of us being in much mood for talking… and then my eyelids feeling very heavy.

  Had he carried me to bed?

  I grabbed my phone to check the time—half past nine, but luckily I had a late shift—and saw one unread text. When I swiped my thumb over it, Warin’s name flashed up.

  Roy is in front of your building. He will stay with you until I return tonight.

  Yup. He’d put me to bed and gotten me a babysitter. I probably should have been annoyed—or at the very least embarrassed, because judging from the way my hair stuck to my cheek, I’d been drooling in my sleep—but I couldn’t help a smile from hiking up one corner of my mouth. For something as serious-sounding as a vampire Lord, he still bothered with as small a thing as removing his zonked-out human buddy’s socks before tucking her in. It was kind of adorable.

  * * *

  An hour later, I walked out the door with two coffee mugs in hand.

  Roy accepted my offering with a short nod of gratitude. “Going out?”

  “Yup, back to work. You my ride again?”

  He nodded again and held out an arm toward where his truck was parked. “Your car is currently at the mechanic’s, but as long as Mr. Waldlitch has me watching you, I’ll drive you anywhere you need to go.”

  I blinked. I’d been too out of it to remember my broken-down car, what with the skinwalker attack and everything that’d come with it, and I most certainly hadn’t had the presence of mind to call a mechanic. “Did Warin call a mechanic for me?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He asked me to take care of it.”

  “Huh, that was really nice of him. And of you. How much was it? We might have to go to the bank on the way.” I looked over my shoulder at the big guy as he shepherded me to his truck, trying not to cringe at the thought of how barren my bank account was. I didn’t really have a choice on whether or not I should get my car fixed.

  Roy gave me a weird look as he waited for me to climb in so he could shut the door. “It’s been taken care of. Mr. Waldlitch paid in full.”

  I frowned at him as he walked around the front of the truck to get into the driver’s seat. “Yeah, but I still have to pay him back.”

  He blinked, opened his mouth as if he was gonna say something, but then thought better of it.

  “What?” I asked as he turned his focus to the car, twisting the key and undoing the handbrake.

  “It kinda defeats the point, doesn’t it?” he said, voice gruff and eyes never leaving the road. “Paying for your own shit.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, not following at all.

  “Nothing. Forget it,” he said, and from the tense set of his jaw, I could tell he was regretting this entire conversation.

  “Nuh-uh,” I said, arching an eyebrow. “You clearly wanted to say something, so go on. Unless of course you want to play my bodyguard while I discuss every gross biological detail of being a woman with my coworkers today. Your choice, buddy.”

  Roy nearly managed to hide his grimace. “Fine. Girls who aren’t mindfucked out of their skull usually hang around rich vampers for the perks. Such as having their master pick up the bill for cars, rent, shiny shit.” He waved the hand not currently on the steering wheel in a dismissive gesture. “You seem to still have some willpower left—“

  “So you assumed I was, what? A deadwhore banging the first vampire she meets in return for car service?” I interrupted him, outrage heating my cheeks. “For your information, Warin isn’t my freakin’ master. We’re are friends. He doesn’t pay for me, and I don’t offer him a vein when he’s hungry. Or anything else, for that matter.”

  A flash of Roy’s message from Warin when I asked him to prove who he was made me cringe. He’d said my blood tasted like life, and clearly Roy knew about that.

  “Except that one time,” I muttered, some of the wind fizzing out of my indignation.

  “It’s not my place to judge,” he said. “I was just surprised. Sorry.”

  I sighed, slumping back in the passenger seat. “It’s fine. I guess it’s not every day you’re called in to guard your boss’ friend from crazy witch-wolves.”

  Roy snorted. “No, ma’am.”

  I glanced at him out the corner of my eye. “What do you normally do? For Warin?”

  He shrugged, not taking his eyes off the road. “Daytime errands. Anything he needs taken care of while the sun’s up. Most vamps got someone like me.”

  “How does one fall into a job like that?” I asked, curious how other humans stumbled into the supernatural world. Besides as a snack.

  Another shrug. “Make a couple poor fucking life choices. I owe him—he suggested this arrangement to work off my debt. Guess it could be worse. The vamper he bought my debt from was a nasty piece of work.”

  I frowned as I considered this sliver of insight into Warin’s life. His “vampire life,” as I was starting to distinguish it. When he was with me, it wasn’t like I forgot what he was—the whole taking me out flying thing, or licking me down after ripping furry wolfmen apart, didn’t really leave much room for forgetting—but it just didn’t matter. At all. Didn’t matter he was a blood-drinking undea
d who apparently bought men’s debts and lorded over the city’s nightwalker population. And it didn’t matter that I was a serious fuckup with rampant commitment issues and more skeletons in my closet than most morticians.

  When it was just the two of us, my past didn’t matter, and his undead-ness didn’t, either.

  I had a sneaking suspicion that was why he liked spending time with me, too.

  “What’s he like? To work for?” I asked, unable to rein in my curiosity.

  Roy glanced at me out the corner of his eyes, and I held up a hand. “Not spying for him or anything—I’m just really curious. I haven’t really seen that part of his world yet.”

  “Yet?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “D’you plan to?”

  I grimaced. “Well, no. I’d rather not. But apparently there’s a thing, and I have to go because murderous skinwalkers and whatnot.”

  Roy sighed. “I guess Mr. Waldlitch’s all right, for a vamper. Even provides dental and a pension fund. To be honest, I hardly ever see him. Up until he disappeared last summer, he stayed in his house most of the time, s’far as I know. And then you showed up.” He glanced at me again. “S’cuse me for saying, but you seem too smart to get mixed up with the undead.”

  I shrugged. “Thanks? I’m not ‘getting mixed up with the undead,’ though. I’m just… hanging out with one.”

  Roy shook his head, still keeping his eyes on the road, but he didn’t say anything.

  I opened my mouth to ask him what he’d meant, but just then he swung the truck into the parking lot by my work, and I decided against it. Whatever his thoughts on girls who hung out with vampires, it didn’t matter to my friendship with Warin.

  I did appreciate his concern, though. The instances of anyone caring about me had been few and far between for as far back as I could remember. Roy might not have said it in as many words, but I got the sense he worried for me and my involvement with his boss. Sad as it was, it made warmth bloom in my chest from sheer gratitude.

  * * *

  Raven was already there when I walked into the shop, Roy in tow, and so were a couple customers.

  “Hey,” I said as I slipped behind the till. Behind me, Roy took up guard by the door, eying the two customers with suspicion. I grimaced, hoping he wouldn’t scare anyone away. Dennis was a pretty relaxed boss, but I doubted he’d look too favorably on my continued employment if my bodyguard scared away his source of income.

  “Liv.” She nodded at me, then glanced at Roy from beneath her eyelashes—ensuring he wasn’t looking in our direction. “I’ve talked with my High Priestess. She’s agreed to meet with you. But, uh… there’s a catch.”

  “A catch?” I arched an eyebrow at my colleague. “What sort of catch?”

  “She wants to meet with you and the vampire. But only if you agree to, uh, have a spell placed on you. To ensure the safety of the coven.”

  Something about the way she said “spell” made me narrow my eyes. “A spell?”

  “It’s more of a curse,” she muttered.

  “A curse?!” My outrage made the two customers and Roy look in our direction. I turned closer to Raven and lowered my voice, despite my temper. “Seriously? How’s that any better than dealing with skinwalkers on my lonesome?”

  “It’s not like they show in the movies, Liv,” she sighed, though she at least had the decency to look somewhat guilty. “You won’t get hurt, as long as the vampire doesn’t harm our coven. I’m sorry, but it’s a non-negotiable. If you knew what his kind has done to us over the years, you’d understand why we need a safety precaution. We’d put it on him, but…”

  “But?” I asked, arms folded across my chest.

  “He’d never allow it.”

  “That’s real nice,” I grumbled, but I guess I saw their point. Warin’s opinion on witches made it pretty clear he wasn’t about to offer some rando coven the chance to curse him. “What sort of curse?”

  “It, uh… you won’t feel a thing as long as he doesn’t try to hurt any of us,” Raven said, avoiding my stare.

  “And if he did?”

  She grimaced. “You’d suffer. A lot. Look, I know it’s not exactly an ideal situation, but it’s really important, Liv. Those skinwalkers aren’t just causing trouble for you—if they get the vamps riled up enough, they’re going to exterminate all of us. We need a way to communicate with them, and… Well, you’re kind of the only one any of us knows who’s on friendly terms with one of them. We can help you, but we need your help in return.

  “Can you do it? Get your vampire to meet with us?”

  I sighed and gnawed on my lip as I considered. On one hand, Warin had been very clear on his dislike of witches. But on the other… if Raven’s coven could help us both with the skinwalker situation, maybe they’d also provide a lead as to the whole dead blood-situation.The vampires and witches could avoid a war, and I’d get to live. Win-win.

  So long as I was okay with having a curse placed on me.

  “Okay. I’ll do it. And then I’ll talk to Warin.” I side-eyed Roy’s large frame. He was keeping an eye on the two customers browsing the shop, as well as the exit. “But, er, I’m not sure the big guy’s gonna be too happy about it. When exactly are we doing this curse? I don’t get much babysitter-free time at the moment.”

  Raven shot the burly giant a glance. “It shouldn’t take long. Just play along, okay? I’ll keep him occupied.”

  She stretched to look past the woman browsing our crystal selection, catching the eye of the redhead flipping through a thick book on herbs. “Joana will do the spell.”

  “Joana?” I whispered as the redheaded customer began to make her way toward us, book in hand.

  “My High Priestess,” Raven explained, nodding toward the woman. “She’s the only one in the coven strong enough for something like that. She came in in case you agreed—the sooner we get this done, the better.”

  “Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” I said, trying to ignore the cold shiver from the base of my spine. I’d kind of hoped to have a little while to come to terms with the fact that I was gonna get a freakin’ curse placed on me.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Liv.” Raven gave my arm a small squeeze. “Joana wants to help you, I promise.”

  “Hi, can I get some help with this book?” The redheaded woman stopped in front of the till and held out the book on herbs.

  “Sure! What do you want to discuss?” Raven put on an exaggerated smile as she looked at the woman. It might have been because I was feeling on edge myself, but it was hard not to cringe at the sudden change to bubbly service agent in the black-haired girl by my side. Roy was staring at us, and I wondered if Raven’s poor acting skills were bad enough to have him alerted.

  “Oh, it’s a matter best discussed privately,” the redhead said. “Would that be possible?”

  “Yes, ma’am, Liv here will be happy to take you to one of the back rooms. Isn’t that right, Liv?” Raven turned to me, fake smile still plastered on her face.

  “Oh, uh, yes, of course. Come with me…” I glanced at Roy again. He was frowning. When I motioned for the redhead to come with me, he moved from the door toward us in long strides.

  “Uh… just go on ahead without me, I’ll be just a second. It’s the first door on the right behind the curtain,” I said to my customer as Roy appeared by my side, his bulk cutting off most of my view of the store.

  “You ain’t going anywhere I can’t see you,” he said, voice gruff as he stared after the redhead.

  “Don’t be absurd, it’s not like you came along every time I needed a pee yesterday,” I said. “And this is a girly matter, if you catch my drift. I can’t have you hulking over me while I have a period talk with a customer.”

  Roy’s frown deepened. “I can’t have you alone with a stranger. Mr. Waldlitch would have my hide.”

  “Oh, she’s not a stranger—she comes in several times a week. She’s perfectly harmless,” I assured him, patting his arm with what I hoped was a gentle smile. “I
wouldn’t do anything to get either of us in trouble with Warin.”

  The giant looked more than reluctant as he shot another look at the beaded curtain the redhead had just disappeared through, but when he glanced down at me again he sighed in defeat. “Fine. You’ve got ten minutes before I come looking for you, got it? And if you need me, scream.”

  “I can do that,” I assured him. “Thanks, Roy.”

  In my defense, I did feel pretty shitty about lying to the guy I’d only just been all warm and fuzzy about showing concern for my well-being, but I silently promised myself I’d make sure Warin took any and all anger out on me, not my bodyguard.

  * * *

  “Olivia? I’m Joana.” The redheaded woman had been waiting for me in the small staff break room, perched on the table. She got up and stretched a hand out in greeting, her long skirt flowing gracefully with the movement.

  “Just Liv,” I said, awkwardly shaking her hand. It felt weird, but what did I know about proper etiquette when meeting a witch to have a curse placed on you?

  “Liv, then.” She offered me a smile, and I was surprised by how friendly she looked. Again, the whole witch-and-curse thing was hard to reconcile with the sweet-looking middle-aged woman in front of me. She looked like your typical Earth hippie, with long, hennaed hair, a flowy maxi-skirt, and sun-lines on her thin face.

  “You’re brave for accepting our terms. And Raven tells me you’re new to the supernatural world?”

  I bobbed my head in agreement. “Always known about the vampires, of course, but witches and werewolves? That was a surprise.” Understatement of the year.

  “We don’t call them werewolves, my dear. They’re skinwalkers. Foul creatures,” she said, and I was kinda pleased by the grimace she pulled. At least I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t think about them without discomfort.