by Lissa Kasey
“Do I need to give it more blood?” Seiran asked.
Gabe moved so fast he wasn’t certain how he’d gotten across the room, and had Seiran pinned to the wall of filing cabinets before he came back to himself. His hand was tight on Seiran’s throat, but not squeezing, just holding him in place. Their bodies pressed together, Gabe’s against Seiran’s until they were both immobile. He felt like he was about to snap, but no blood had been drawn.
Seiran waited, Gabe didn’t know for what. He expected to be slapped down, drawn back into the earth with little effort by a man so powerful. He actually felt the witch’s power, the slow gather of it growing, a pool of energy lapping beneath the surface. But as he touched it, it seemed to dissipate. Spreading outward in a slow curl of strength, warmth, and life that made the plants on top of the cabinet grow. They didn’t reach for him, in fact the power seemed to absorb through him, giving him clarity, even while he fought not to let the darkness rise.
Gabe sucked in a deep breath, the scent of Seiran, his blood, his skin, the smell of green things, vanilla, and a hint of honey, filling his lungs. “Sorry,” he said, unable to let go. This close, his body pressed to Seiran’s, there was a stirring of something in him. A thousand emotions, all tied up and jumbled like a ball of yarn matted in knots, and physically, a reaction of slow awakening desire. It was like muscle memory. His body reacting as it was supposed to, even if his mind hadn’t caught up. He and the witch seemed to have had a more intimate relationship in the past.
The warmth of Seiran’s pulsing earth power called to something in Gabe’s core. It was an ebb and flow of strength. If Gabe worked hard enough, he thought maybe he could use it himself, though he couldn’t recall ever having that power.
He stared down into sapphire blue eyes, feeling for the first time as though he recognized them. But that fast the memory was gone. A glimpse of a feeling perhaps. “I think it’s the idea of you giving someone else blood,” Gabe offered, fighting with himself over the fact that he needed to let go. He wasn’t hurting the witch. His grip wasn’t strong enough to do damage. But he also had the underlying knowledge that he could. Maybe it would be one hell of a battle, him against a witch of Seiran’s power. Would he win? His speed and strength before the magic could be cast?
Seiran swallowed. The movement of his throat seeming to give rise to intense desire in Gabe. He found himself tightening that hand a little. Not enough to cut off air, but to feel him breathe.
“You can’t kill me,” Seiran whispered. “The earth will keep bringing me back until it’s done with me. Can you say the same?”
But Gabe didn’t want him dead. He just wanted him. In a dozen ways, some of them sexual, some of them bloody. Being a vampire really sucked sometimes. His gaze narrowed down to Seiran’s face, while he prayed for more memories. He ran his thumb over Seiran’s lower lip and was rewarded with a tiny edge of recognition.
“I don’t want you dead,” Gabe said, leaning forward to brush his lips over Seiran’s. It was the barest taste of a kiss. The warmth of Seiran’s mouth feeling like water to a man dying in the desert of thirst. Gabe held there for a moment. The witch frozen against him, unmoving other than to breathe. And it took Gabe another long moment to pull away and release his grip one finger at a time.
By the time he stepped away, they were both shaking. Gabe didn’t think it was from fear. But he also wasn’t expecting the fist to the jaw that sent him tumbling over the desk and through the glass door, which rained down on him in shards of broken glass and darkness.
Chapter 11
Instinct, Seiran told himself. Though the guilt bothered him. He hadn’t expected the kiss, the reaction to the kiss, or the fact that he’d pulled strength from Gabe without trying, which caused more damage than Seiran ever could have on his own.
Super human strength wasn’t a witch trait. Not without some serious magic backing it up. He could craft spells and wrap magic around himself that would rival a vampire, had done so in many sparring matches with Sam. But that punch had power been beyond any spell he’d ever created.
Seiran couldn’t recall ever using Gabe’s abilities before. Was that normal? They hadn’t been bound long before Gabe’s sanity had begun to unravel. Maybe he’d already been so far gone he hadn’t realized they could share power. Something else he’d have to inquire of the vampires in his life. He couldn’t recall any of the texts mentioning it, but most detailed very little about the Focus bond.
In fact, in history, the Focus bond had seemed to have risen from an upgrade to the feeding bond. A vampire accidentally binding someone they’d been feeding on for a long time. Which shifted the dynamic and gave vampires the ability to move around more in the daylight and among humanity. Perks of being tied to a mortal being, and maybe not the only ones.
Workers arriving to clean up the glass and repair the window created too much noise for Seiran to think. He had a dozen questions at least, and tried to write them down so as not to forget.
The fact that Page was hovering over Gabe, offering an ice pack and kind words, stirred a wave of jealousy to fill Seiran’s gut.
Not fair. Gabe wasn’t really his, even though they were bound. He hadn’t expected Gabe to be able to shift the earth energy so easily. Another thing he’d had no idea a vampire could do without actually being a witch.
The more power Seiran drew, the more the vampire seemed to spread it outwards, channeling it, and rather than using it, it dissipated. It was almost relaxing, a balance of the near cosmic level of strength that Seiran had battled to control for the past decade and a half.
The fact that the power recognized Gabe, hadn’t fought him at all, that was unnerving. The earth touched the bond between them and seemed to say I approve and turned off the fighting instinct. Seiran had an overwhelming urge to submit.
And wasn’t that an unwelcome feeling, but natural? He’d spent so long being strong and independent, that he really hadn’t let himself relax. Not that he thought the vampire was safe. Gabe had proven he wasn’t years ago, and even if things had changed, the lack of control he exhibited worried Seiran.
The reaction of the golem worried him too. It seemed linked to Gabe, and hadn’t he said something about it feeling like a vampire? The files Seiran found were numerous, but none of which his department had looked into. Missing vampires, murdered vampires, vampires in general, got cast off to Max and his people. The Dominion, and especially MI, was too short staffed to keep up with it all. Seiran had been fighting for years to expand the department, trying to push the idea of catching a witch before they were too far gone and had to be terminated. He had always hated being part of the cog in that murder machine.
But when he matched up the pictures of those the golem had showed him yesterday, he found vampire profiles. Missing vampires, rather than human. He’d been right, and a rock sat in his gut over the idea that he’d probably have to hand this whole thing off to Sam, which might mean the end of the golem, but not the magic that created it.
“Enough, Page,” Seiran snapped as his assistant continued to hover around Gabe. “He’s fine.”
All but one of the students were on their way back in. Seiran argued with the family of the last one for a while, threatening his meager legal abilities to have witches detained and jailed for unauthorized use of magic. He hated using that one, as it was very broad, and mostly useless as he couldn’t get the police to actually exercise warrants against witches and would have to bring the guy in himself.
“Find those books I asked for,” Seiran commanded, needing Page out of his space or away from his vampire for the moment. His vampire. Fuck.
“Of course, Director Rou,” Page did a little half bow and rushed off to the archives.
Gabe had kept his distance, sitting in the chair beside the reception desk while the maintenance crew cleaned up glass and measured windows. He hadn’t spoken to anyone, but had allowed Page to fuss over him a little. His eyes were green, not black, which Seiran hoped to mean that the man had
control and wasn’t losing himself to the revenant.
He debated just pulling Gabe to the side bathroom and giving him blood. Would that solve this mess? A hungry vampire always created issues. But he shouldn’t be hungry. Not after having blood this morning. Vampires, especially the older ones like Gabe, didn’t need much blood or all that often. Max had indicated Gabe had fed on shifters, and then the blood from the fridge.
He shouldn’t be hungry. The idea that he was, really worried Seiran. He could put Gabe back in the ground. But he was also pretty sure it would break something in him. The last strands of hope perhaps.
Seiran grabbed his laptop and files, needing to head upstairs to handle the interviews of the two students who were coming back. Could Gabe wander the main area of the Dominion halls? Would the sunlight be too much? Or the many wards layered across the building over decades? Would they accept Gabe like they did Seiran because of Seiran’s power? He had gotten into the bowels of the building just fine, and Seiran’s wards had paused, looking him over, before letting him through. Maybe?
He approached Gabe slowly, watching the vampire’s body language for any sign of trouble. But he seemed relaxed, though he held the ice pack to his jaw, which was slightly discolored. Healing. But Seiran had hit him really hard.
“I’m sorry,” Seiran said. “I didn’t really mean to…”
“It was my fault,” Gabe replied. “I overstepped.”
He had, but that hadn’t meant extreme violence was necessary. “I could have pulled away any time,” Seiran admitted. The feeling of being pinned to the cabinets, the familiar weight of Gabe pressed against him had awakened a longing in him. He’d been frozen at first, debating on whether or not Gabe was in control, or the beast within him. But either way, it turned him on.
He could hear Sam’s snark now, Who’s a kinky bastard now, Ronnie?
Seiran was too old and world weary to be kinky. But yeah, it had been hard to tamp down on the desire to let Gabe have his way. It wasn’t even about forgiveness as much as the fact that Gabe didn’t remember him. Did that mean Seiran was just some witch he couldn’t wait to eat? And maybe fuck. Okay, those things turned him on too. Seiran let out a long breath and prayed Gabe wasn’t smelling his desire.
“Still,” Gabe said, “I know better. My control should be better.”
“Is it because you haven’t had my blood?” Other than the small taste in the kitchen this morning, which seemed like a lifetime ago, though it had only been a few hours.
“Maybe?” Gabe shrugged. “My brain is still catching up on everything. Lots of holes to be filled in.”
“What if having my blood fills it all in at once?” Seiran asked. “Maybe we should just get it over with?” He pushed up his sleeve thinking he could handle a bite, even a painful one, which might help ease the desire a little.
Gabe swallowed hard, his eyes flashing to black again. Seiran had to fight to keep from taking a step back. “When I take you,” Gabe said slowly. “It won’t be anything to get over with.”
“I didn’t offer sex,” Seiran said quietly. A partial lie at best. Because he knew it wouldn’t take much to be steered in that direction.
“Since you’re my Focus, it should be near impossible to manipulate your mind and give you pleasure that way. And without physical desire, or at least dreams to cloud your mind a little, it would hurt. A bite that deep is rarely pleasant. Though the lines between pleasure and pain can be blurred if done right,” Gabe said. “When I have you beneath my fangs, it will be pleasure I give you, not pain.”
When. Seiran thought maybe he wasn’t wrong. It wouldn’t be an if, but a when. They were bound after all. Until true death do them part. Would he rather be bound to someone he hated forever? Was at constant war with? Or a place to find warmth and refuge? He sighed, thinking it was all too much for a man as cynical and tainted as he’d become over the years. Trust had always been hard-won. And Gabe had stomped on that trust years ago.
“I need to go upstairs and question witnesses,” Seiran said after a minute. The golem sat still as stone in the chair in Seiran’s office. The wards of the space seemed to help keep it still. Or maybe that was part of Gabe’s power. “I’m not sure you should stay here by yourself? Maybe I should call you a cab and send you back to Max?”
Seiran had already sent Sam a long list of questions, along with the three dead vampire files he could tie to the golem. He hadn’t heard back, but suspected Sam was sleeping as he often did in the middle of the day like this. It made him wonder if Gabe should be resting, even if he didn’t appear tired or pulled by the weight of the daylight. Would lack of sleep make his control worse? Why did Seiran feel so lost when he’d spent more than the last decade studying vampires?
Gabe stood slowly, as though afraid he’d spook Seiran, and set the ice pack on the desk. “I’d rather remain close to you.”
“Why? Is it a blood thing?” Everything with vampires was about blood. That much he’d learned years ago. In fact, a lot of the darker edges of magic that Seiran had been investigating seemed to be about blood. He’d often wondered if it was its own branch of magic. An element unto itself, like earth or water, but hadn’t found anyone willing to discuss it with him. At the moment he had to keep himself from remembering the many times he’d fed Gabe in the past, almost all of which had been during sex. Seiran’s control was good, but to keep from getting hard if he thought too much about the past? That seemed impossible.
“A little,” Gabe agreed. “Though I am drawn to you. Like being close tickles my memory.”
“But you don’t remember me specifically,” Seiran clarified.
Gabe swallowed hard; gaze focused on Seiran’s lips. “I remember tiny things.”
Had the kiss jogged something loose? It hadn’t been much of a kiss really. Not even worth getting upset over. Seiran held his computer and the files to his chest as a shield, reminding himself he didn’t need all the answers right now. Not for this at least.
“Right, then, let’s go upstairs. Forest, come,” Seiran said as he headed for the door. The golem got up and followed along, moving so suddenly from complete stillness that the workers jumped back. They probably hadn’t thought it was a living thing, since the golem didn’t move or breathe for so long. “Sorry,” Seiran apologized to them. “We’ll leave you to your work.”
Gabe and Forest followed Seiran out of the lower level and back up to the main level. All the warded interrogation rooms were on the main level. But interrogation was used by every department, and often got overlaid with the idea of torture when it came to witches going rogue. Seiran hated the feel of the rooms. The strong cast of nullifying magic dampening the spaces. He could still pull magic, but it broke the null cast, and since a person had to die to create that magic, he tried not to fuck with those rooms unless he absolutely had to.
Director Han was in the hall outside of the main stretch of interrogation rooms talking with another older woman. When she saw Seiran, she turned his way, the disapproval clear on her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but Seiran held up a hand. “Don’t even. You know you overstepped. This is my investigation and an MI case.”
If a glare could kill, he’d have dropped dead right there. She finally said, “I’ve assured Ms. Weatherford, that this is just a formality.” She motioned to the woman beside her.
Seiran turned his attention to her, and beyond her to the window into the room, where a young man sat. Weatherford would be Kevin Weatherford, age twenty-one, a student majoring in computer science at the UofM. “He’s old enough to not need his mother,” he paused assessing the woman, “Or grandmother present for questioning.” He passed them both without acknowledging them and opened the door to the room. Both women erupted in a squawking protest that he ignored. Gabe and Forest followed him inside the room, but Gabe stayed near the door, his back to it like a guard.
Seiran pulled out a chair and directed Forest to it. At the sound of the name, Kevin looked up, examining the golem. Seiran set his
stuff on the table and opened the file with his notes and the previous interview. Kevin was young, not a jock type as Seiran had expected. At least not unless his workouts involved video games. He was thin, and lanky, but didn’t come across as physically strong like Sam’s boyfriend, Constantine did. Kevin looked like the sort of guy who lived in his parent’s basement playing video games all day while complaining no one would date him. Maybe that was why he’d been in one of the non-magic dorms. Shoved out by a family annoyed with his lack of motivation for life.
“It looks better,” Kevin said. “Was coming apart for a while.”
“It was,” Seiran agreed. He pulled another chair over and sat down, giving himself a minute to adjust to the weird absence of power the room provided. He wondered if it would trouble the golem or the vampire, but neither seemed affected by the nullification. “How long had you had the golem before it started to unravel?” Seiran began, trying to gauge how much he’d get from the student before he clammed up.
“A couple weeks,” Kevin said. “Will this take long? I’m missing class to be here. Already answered questions today.”
“But you were using the golem to go to class for you,” Seiran reminded him. As he had accounts from this student’s teachers about the golem. Weird behavior from this student in class; inhumane, one teacher had reported. It was one of the things that had led Seiran to the dorm. “Doesn’t seem like you care all that much about classes.”
Kevin folded his arms across his chest and sat back, looking annoyed, and entitled. Was it sad that Seiran hated witches when he was one?
“Perhaps you’re misinformed about why you’re here,” Seiran began. “You’re currently being held for suspicion of death magic, which as you know carries a death sentence. This is not a simple we ask you questions and you get to go home, scenario.” Seiran could sense the movement from outside the room, a burst of heat and rage, like he was overstepping. But he had no intention of letting this kid walk out. Kevin and his friends had let the golem run free and injure a half dozen people. Even if they didn’t make it, they hadn’t reported it, even when it began to unravel. That was at minimum a reckless attempt at homicide.