by Nora Ash
“Whatever they are, they nearly killed me,” I said. “And if there are more, I want them stopped. So if you really need to curse me, we should probably get moving. My, er, friend gave me ten minutes before he’ll come looking, and he’s not going to be pleased if he catches us mid-curse.”
“The giant-blood?” Joana asked. “I take it he works for your vampire?”
“He’s really nice, but it’s kind of his job to make sure I don’t get myself into trouble. And, uh… I think this classifies as trouble.” I made a vague gesture between us.
“Yes, of course.” She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled a half-liter plastic bottle out. It had a small bit of red, viscous liquid in the bottom. She handed it to me, catching my gaze with hers. “The Coven of the Moon thanks you for your sacrifice, Liv. What you are doing today will save many lives.”
I eyeballed the liquid. “What… is that?”
“Blood from every member of the coven,” she said, as if it was a completely normal thing to haul around in your handbag. “You will need to drink it.”
“Ew, what? No!” I thrust the bottle back at her, but she didn’t take it. “That’s wildly unhygienic! Ever heard of hepatitis?!”
“You won’t get sick, I promise.” She put a hand on my arm and looked at me, the expression in her eyes urgent and sincere. “The blood is cleansed by magic. This is the only way of completing the spell—you have to take their life essence inside you to protect them. Please, child. We need your help. And you ours.”
I guessed once you agreed to getting cursed, there was no need for catching to be at the top of your worry-list. Grimacing, I unscrewed the cap and raised the bottle to my lips. “I just… drink it?”
Joana nodded. “Make sure you get all of it.”
Here goes nothing. I took a deep breath and tilted the bottle upside-down.
The blood of Joana's coven tasted nothing like the sweet, wild, powerful flavor of Warin’s. It was slightly sour and tasted overwhelmingly of iron tablets.
I gagged as I forced myself to keep the bottle to my lips so every last drop of the sluggishly dripping fluid landed on my tongue. When it was finally empty, I tossed it to the floor and pressed my hand to my mouth in an effort to not hurl all over the staff room.
“Good,” Joana said. And then she clasped her hands to my upper arms with surprising strength, her eyes lighting up with a bright green and one hundred percent unnatural light.
I croaked and tried to jerk away from sheer surprise, but she clung on.
“Be one of us, Liv. Feel for us. Bleed for us. Die for us. By the dark goddess, by the power of the blood—take our pain, be our shield against the night. My will be done!”
The oddest sensation of power crackled through my veins as Joana spoke, almost electric in nature. It felt oddly like it had when the green light had shot from me to push away the skinwalkers, but different. Foreign—like an outside force pressing itself through my blood.
Something inside me rose up, like a tidal wave of responding power, as if my body tried to defend itself against the invading magic, but it was too late.
I felt the foreign magic take hold—and then nothing.
Joana let go of my arms with a deep breath. “It’s done.”
I blinked and stared at my hands, halfway expecting them to glow with the strange green light, but there was not a single sign that a witch had cursed me. “I don’t feel any different.”
“You won’t, so long as your vampire behaves himself.” She looked at me, head tilted. “Do you know you have the Gift?”
“The Gift?”
“You have magic, girl. You’re one of us.” Joana reached out and grabbed my hand between hers. “Did you know?”
I bit my lip. “I, uh… had an incident the other day. But I didn’t… I mean, it wasn’t like a spell or anything. I’m not even sure—“
The redhead shook her head, silencing me. “You’re a witch, Liv, and deep down you must know. We all do, even if we don’t know what it is.”
I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t. Not after having felt that powerful green light the other night.
Magic. I had magic.
A week ago my only impressive skill was my extraordinary ability to find the bitchiest reality TV, no matter when I flicked on the TV.
“Does your vampire know?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think he’d be thrilled.”
“No.” Joana hesitated before she gave my hands a squeeze and let go. “He mustn’t find out, Liv. Your life would be in danger. He might act your friend now, you might think you understand him, but… trust me. You don’t. And he isn’t. Whatever his reason for protecting you now, if he knew you were one of us…”
She paused, letting an ominous silence hang between us. I wanted to deny her suggestion that Warin would ever hurt me. He’d saved my ass twice now, and I trusted him in a way that went beyond even that. It was almost as if part of my mind… recognized him somehow.
I’d never felt as safe as I did when I was around him.
And yet…
“I won’t tell him,” I said softly.
“Good.” Joana nodded. “If I were you… I’d try to suppress your power, at least for now. Magic can be volatile and unreliable when a witch first starts out—you don’t want it to accidentally burst out when you’re around the dead man. Once you part ways, seek me out and I will put you on the path. As a thank-you for what you have done today. But not before.”
Wait on delving deeper into my suddenly-appearing magical power? Yeah, that sounded pretty all right. One supernatural disaster was enough to focus on at a time, and at the moment, the skinwalkers kinda had priority.
“Yeah, sounds good. But, uh… one question.” I drew in a deep breath, steeling myself. “How does one become a witch? Where does the magic come from? Is it hereditary? Like, were one of my parents…?”
Joana shook her head. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s tied to the soul, not the blood. Your parents can be the dullest accountants west of the river, but you could still catch the spark. And even then, you could live go your whole life with no sign of it. Maybe a few moments of deja vu, a dream of future events now and then, a strong sixth sense, but no real magic.”
“But why me?” I hadn’t meant to ask, but the denial that it could be hereditary made the question burst past my lips before I could stop it. I’d hoped…
But of course that was just a silly child’s dream. Any little girl who’d been abandoned by her father would wish there was a reason, or at least some mystical tie that would one day lead her to him.
My mom always said my dad walked out on us because he didn’t want to be a father anymore. Hoping he was a great witch hiding from evil vampires was probably too much to hope for, when Mom’s explanation was the far likelier.
“Your path is going to be long, Liv. And maybe you’ll find the answer to that question one day—but not yet. We have to focus on the skinwalkers, and on forging an alliance with the vampires, and you’re our only link. We can’t risk that. Not now.” The redhead gave me a sympathetic look.
“So hang tight until war’s no longer about to break out before I go on any spiritual navel-gazing journeys?” I grimaced. “Gotcha. Don’t worry, I’ll get Warin to meet with you. As much as he might dislike witches, I’m sure he’d rather focus on getting rid of the skinwalkers in his territory.”
A small gasp escaped Joana's lips and she stared at me, eyes wide. “Warin? Warin Waldlitch? The Night Lord?”
“Uh, yeah. Is that a problem?” I hadn’t really realized Warin’s fancy vampire title might bleed into my day-to-day life, and seeing the complete shock on Joana's face at the sound of his name was unexpected. But then again, I guess getting cursed by a witch wasn’t really day-to-day for me, either.
“No, that’s—“ She blinked again, appearing to shake herself out of it. “That is potentially fantastic. Please bring the Night Lord at Isla tomorrow night. We will talk more.”
I
watched Joana leave the staff room, hoping this meeting was going to go as both she and I hoped. Because if not… there was still plenty time for me to regret this curse. I patted my chest where I’d last felt the swell of magic from within, hoping Warin would see it for the opportunity it was.
15
“What exactly do you mean, you ‘met with a High Priestess’?”
Oh, boy. The dangerous quality to Warin’s voice and his narrowed eyes as he glared at me from across the sofa made me fidget in my seat. So far my “he’ll totally see this as the greatest idea since bagged blood” idea wasn’t in line with reality. He’d been in my apartment for a grand total of five minutes before I’d mentioned my meeting with Joana—leaving out the curse aspect as a fun surprise for later—and I was already starting to regret it.
“Calm down, okay? It was the logical thing to do. The witches—at least this coven—want to get rid of the skinwalkers too. We can work with them. They’ll have valuable insight we couldn’t get without them.”
“There are ways of getting information out of an enemy without aligning yourself with them! Have I not made myself clear, Liv? They are dangerous! You are not to be around them, let alone make deals with them!” Warin’s nostrils flared, and for a moment he looked more predator than human, eyes dark and upper lip curled in a snarl.
Unfortunately for him, even in the face of this much anger, I wasn’t afraid of him. I was, however, getting mightily pissed off at being bossed around.
“Stop talking to me like I’m your goddamn property!” I got up from the couch, rounding on him. “I see and speak to exactly who I want, and you need to stop treating me like I’m some idiot who needs to be protected from her own stupidity! We need the witches on our side, and if you weren’t so goddamn prejudiced, you’d see it too. You want to avoid a war? This is the way we do it.”
Warin stared at me. Then, slowly, like a stalking panther, he got to his feet and walked the two steps to stand in front of me. Power, the full extent of his presence, wrapped around me in a dark caress that should have been intimidating, but it just made the blood in my abdomen pulse harder.
Dammit. Down, girl, down!
“You will let me protect you. You will not question my will on matters concerning your safety, and you will stay away from these witches. Understood?”
Warin’s voice was a low growl, gravel wrapped in silk, and it sent a shiver down my spine as my nipples tightened to aching points underneath my shirt, and my mind hazed while uninvited images of what it’d be like if he spoke to me like that under different circumstances flashed through my brain.
Oh, holy wow, why was it so fucking hot when he went all bossy vampire on me!? I shook my head to clear it from the hormonal fog and crossed my arms over my chest, partly to close myself off and partly to hide my traitorous nipples.
“Nope, that’s not how this is going to go down. I don’t know how things are between vampire friends, but you don’t get to roll up into my apartment and boss me around, dude. Now, I appreciate that you’re just trying to protect me, and I am grateful for that. Truly. But I get a say in this too, and that say is that these witches will help us. So I need you—" I unwrapped one arm to poke him in the chest, “—to pull yourself together. Just because some witches are apparently murderous bastards, it doesn’t mean they’re all bad. Like not all vampires are bad. And this High Priestess is a really good person, I promise. So, you and I are going to calm down, and tomorrow we’re going to meet her and her coven so we can get to the bottom of who’s trying to murder me and poison the blood supply. Okay?”
Warin blinked, his eyes wider than before, as if he couldn’t quite believe I’d told him “no.” But then again, a fancy vampire Lord probably wasn’t used to having people disagree with his decrees.
“It’s for the best, Warin,” I continued, gentling my tone. “Deep down, you know it.”
He drew in a deep, unnecessary breath, and finally nodded. “Fine. For you, I will meet with this priestess. But I must warn you, Liv. I am doing this only out of respect for you. Any hint of deceit, and this will not end well for them. Are you prepared for that?”
I nodded, deciding against telling him about the curse. The way his eyes were still dark with anger, I didn’t think it’d make things go any smoother if he realized what kind of precaution Joana had put in place. “Just… no bloodshed. Please.”
Warin reached out and briefly touched his hand to my cheek. “I will strive to avoid it. I am so sorry that you have been pulled into this world.”
I smiled and patted his hand before I sat back down on the couch, curling my legs up under me. “Sometimes we don’t really get a choice in what life throws our way. And if I had to choose between this and never meeting you… I’d choose this every time. Now please, come. Sit down so I can draw you.”
* * *
I had to Google Isla, and when a hip-looking nightclub in downtown Chicago popped up on my screen, shoot a text to confirm the location with Raven.
I’d never really considered nightclubs to be the place supernatural beings went to discuss business, but according to Raven, it was the right place. And, according to her, the dress-code was black eyeliner, bare skin, and sweat.
So the next night, while I waited for Warin to pick me up, I spent hours in front of the mirror, attempting to get my very laid-back self back into the shape of a girl who was used to wearing makeup and doing her hair. Before Warin, I spent most evenings on the couch watching reality TV under a blanket, just living life to its fullest. These days, the TV had been swapped out for a handsome vampire, but still… I had to rummage in my closet for a good ten minutes before I managed to pull out a black spaghetti-strapped dress from behind the mountain of t-shirts, sweaters and jeans.
When Warin finally pressed the buzzer to my door phone shortly before nine, I’d managed to press myself into an old push-up bra that had my breasts threatening to spill out over the low neckline of my—as it turned out, once I’d screwed myself into it—rather skanky dress. My hair was up in a Dutch braid I’d spent forty solid minutes watching YouTube tutorials to get right, I had a liberal helping of black eyeliner smeared around my eyes, and I held onto my third glass of pre-meeting-witches-who-have-a-curse-on-me wine as I swung the door open and greeted the vampire with a wide smile.
“Hello, handsome!” I said—and immediately regretted it when his eyebrows crept up half an inch at the sight of me. “Er, I mean… c’mon in.”
Silently, he stepped over the threshold, not moving his gaze from me.
“I just need to finish up,” I said, making flapping motions toward the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable.”
It’s a testament to Warin’s patience that I didn’t hear him so much as clear his throat while I applied the last of my mascara, fussed with my hair, and spent five full minutes bouncing in the bathroom to ensure my boobs wouldn’t escape.
When I returned to the living room, now with an empty wine glass, I found him by my bookshelf, leafing through one of my spiritual books.
“Well look who’s being all open minded,” I teased as I sat the empty glass down on the kitchen counter and grabbed my black clutch. “Looking for tips for the meeting?”
He didn’t answer—just put the book down and stared intently at me.
“What? Is my foundation caked?” I rubbed self-consciously at my cheek.
“I asked a few of my Guard to join us, just in case the witches are plotting a trap.”
I blinked, confused at the subject change. “I mean, as long as they don’t start snacking on anyone, I’m sure that’s fine. They can hardly expect you to show up with just a tipsy human as backup.”
He hummed, full lips flattening to a tight line.
“What?”
“You need to stay close,” he said, giving me one lingering look before he moved toward the door. He waited for me there, one hand resting on the handle.
I shot him a confused look as I joined him. “Why?”
“You lo
ok like vampire bait, little one,” he said as he opened the door for me, a ghost of a smile easing the stern look on his pale face. “And I won’t be the only nightwalker present.”
“Oooh!” I laughed, delighted that he was feeling playful despite the meeting awaiting us both. As much as I was a homebody, the wine and skanky dress had gotten me in the mood for a night out, and if things went well, I was so planning on having a dance or two with my vampire buddy. Which would be much easier if he was in a good mood. “Well, thanks… I think?”
“Oh, it was a compliment,” he said, giving me a good once-over that made heat rise from the tips of my toes all the way to the roots of my hair.
I slapped his arm for good measure. “Be careful with those—I’m a very friendly drunk!”
* * *
I recognized Carina the second we entered Isla. The beautiful blonde was casually leaning against the bar, eyes scanning the many drunk and dancing humans. She was in a tight black dress that displayed her long legs, but despite the wispy material, hers didn’t make her look even the slightest bit skanky. She was all cool elegance and impeccable beauty, and I did my best not to hate her as I waved hello.
She nodded at me, all grace and manners, eyes flicking from my neck to my cleavage, down to Warin’s hand resting lightly against my lower back as he led me through the throng of people. When she looked back up at me, a small smile pulled her painted lips up at the corners.
I flushed at what she was obviously thinking. Vampire bait, indeed. I wasn’t entirely sure why she was so convinced her boss and I were getting it on, but it was somewhat harder to ignore when I wasn’t wrapped up in thick sweaters and old t-shirts so unattractive they might as well have “closed for business” printed across the front. I hadn’t really thought much about my appearance when I hung out with Warin—it was just him and me, after all, and I wasn’t trying to get into his pants. However, Carina’s knowing smirk made his teasing compliment flash through my brain again.