Unleashing Echoes (Reconstructionist 3)

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Unleashing Echoes (Reconstructionist 3) Page 7

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

Soon, I expected that he’d be demanding to talk about Jasper reclaiming the estate magic. Though perhaps he was pleased to have been relieved of a burden he hadn’t asked for. Soon, he’d be digging into our investigation of Ruby Cameron. And soon, there wouldn’t be any impromptu meetings in random cities. Not for me, at least.

  Not after I became a vampire.

  So I would enjoy this brief moment of peace, allowing my heart to celebrate having the two people I loved most in the world in the same room with me. Just being, just existing in the same space as Jasmine and Declan was the only thing I’d ever really wanted. The only dream I’d ever had for my future.

  It was also the only thing I couldn’t ever have.

  I cupped my left hand over the white-picket-fence bracelet on my right wrist, feeling the magical artifact’s intense power ebb and flow underneath my fingers. A whisper of my own magic emanated from the two tiny reconstruction cubes I’d hidden among the bracelet’s platinum house, fence, and tree charms. Two collections that contained precious glimpses of Jasmine and Declan, from before Jasper had ruined our future to the extent that we lost the chance to be together. We lost the possibility of our childhood dream of being Betty-Sue, Betty-Lou, and Bubba.

  But whether I was a vampire or not, Jasmine and Declan would always be mine to love. And they’d have each other when I was no longer … me. Or at least the me that was my current incarnation. Keeping them safe from Jasper and loving them from afar would be enough.

  So I would savor this moment in time. This breath of regular life. I’d keep it tightly in my heart. And I would continue to endure everything else.

  Cool fingertips brushed lightly against my lips, abruptly waking me from a dreamless sleep.

  I opened my eyes, seeing only the ceiling of the dark hotel room bathed in the dim blue glow from the digital clock on the side table. I could hear Jasmine’s soft breathing beside me. She’d climbed into bed with me about an hour after Declan ate, practically falling unconscious the moment she laid her head on the pillow. Ignoring the empty second bedroom, Declan had taken the bed next to ours.

  The air about me shifted as fingers brushed across my right hand, lingering for a moment too long on my bracelet. Far too long for him to be touching a magical artifact I’d boldly named Vampire’s Bane.

  “Kett,” I whispered.

  He appeared beside me. The vampire was just a pale smudge looming over me, but I could tell he was smiling.

  I glanced toward the curtained windows, keeping my voice pitched low. “What time is it?”

  “Almost sunrise.” His breath brushed across my neck and right shoulder. “I was getting bored of watching you sleep.”

  Those words would have terrified another witch. A far more intelligent witch. They would have sent her reaching for defensive magic, if not screaming from the room.

  And rightfully so.

  Except Kett was flirting. His version of flirting, at least. He’d broken into our hotel room and was attempting to flirt with me while Jasmine and Declan slumbered nearby.

  Because what woman wouldn’t want to know she was being watched by an ancient vampire while she slept?

  Of course, I was the one who’d called him.

  Something tickled my exposed arm, then moved up to my shoulder, pooling in a soft cloud of fabric on my neck. My teal pashmina, judging by feel, at least. I couldn’t see the actual color in the dark.

  I shifted up in the bed as carefully as I could without disturbing Jasmine. Kett swathed my shoulders in the pashmina. Wearing only a navy silk shift that had bunched around my upper thighs as I slept, I freed my legs from the covers and sat on the edge of the bed.

  Reaching out for the vampire in the dark, my hand settled blindly on his shoulder as he crouched before my legs. I assumed he was wearing dark colors, because I glimpsed only the pale blur of his face in the darkness before me as he moved.

  He stroked the sole of my right foot with cool fingers, causing me to curl my toes. And suddenly I was holding my breath, even more aware of Jasmine and Declan sleeping only a few feet away. What had begun as a stealth mission to relieve Kett’s boredom had shifted into something forbidden. Something sexy.

  The vampire slipped what felt like one of my hand-knit socks over the toes he’d caressed. He tugged the sock onto my foot, then ran his fingers up the back of my calf and behind my knee.

  Warmth pooled in my belly.

  I forced myself to breathe.

  Kett switched his attention to my left foot, running his fingers underneath in the same slow caress. Then he slid on my second sock. And in doing so, he let me know that he wanted me to join him, perhaps even go for a walk, without speaking a word. Seducing me in the process with his casual, intimate touches.

  Still crouched before me, he glanced up. Even with the glow coming off the clock, I couldn’t see his expression, if he even had one. My heart rate ramped up, fear mixing with desire. But nonetheless, I lifted my right hand, touching his temple, then running my fingers through his surprisingly soft, silky hair.

  He turned his face with my movement, brushing his lips against my wrist beside my bracelet.

  “Get in the bed, vampire,” Jasmine hissed suddenly. Her voice was cuttingly loud against the cocoon of silence and soft touches that had encased Kett and me. “Or get out of the damn room and let the rest of us sleep.”

  Declan shot out of the bed beside ours, landing solidly on his feet. Vibrant-blue magic flared, outlining glowing runes that appeared to be suspended in midair.

  Apparently, Declan slept with his carved wooden blasting rod. Fully charged.

  Kett shifted away from the bed, as if to deliberately draw Declan’s attention. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to see him move.

  Magic ignited, directed at the vampire. And without even thinking, I reached toward the blast, calling forth a shield spell effortlessly. My defensive magic sprang forward from my hands, twisting in the air in front of Kett just in time for whatever spell Declan had amplified with his blasting rod to slam against it.

  Magic exploded, sending shards of blue light in all directions.

  I took a deep breath, coaxing my hastily manifested shield to encompass Declan’s casting, then absorb it harmlessly. Which I could really only do that effortlessly because I knew the tenor of Declan’s magic as intimately as I did.

  Only a moment had passed.

  That was the second time Declan had tried to slaughter the executioner on first sight.

  Jasmine flicked on the bedside lamp, momentarily blinding me. “What the hell, Declan?” she shouted.

  Blinking, I brought the room into focus again.

  Declan was wearing nothing but tight black boxers, displaying glorious miles of naturally tanned, sculpted skin. He stood facing off against the pale-skinned, white-blond vampire, more slightly built in a charcoal cashmere sweater and dark-washed jeans.

  Both men were staring at me. Declan was scowling, which was completely normal. Kett with what might have been a hint of a smug smile.

  Jasmine was kneeling in the center of the bed, beside and slightly behind me. “You could have set the room on fire,” she snarled at Declan.

  Her brother lowered his blasting rod, looking utterly taken aback. “He’s the one who was creeping around the room!”

  “Did you think he was going to knock? And do you sleep with that thing?” she asked, referring to the rod.

  “So what if I do?”

  Jasmine raised her hands, palms facing forward. “No judgement. I’m just not sure who you thought was going to attack the three of us.”

  Declan looked pointedly in Kett’s direction.

  The vampire offered him a saucy smile.

  I had to stifle a laugh.

  “Unbelievable,” Declan said. Then he turned and crawled back into bed.

  “Yes, go away now. Some of us didn’t take a nap.” Jasmine turned off the light, burrowing back underneath the covers.

  I stood up, leaning back in the dark to pull the
covers up on my side of the bed. Jasmine reached out and wrapped her hand around mine. “It’s cold in here without you, Betty-Sue.”

  I squeezed her hand, but she raised her voice, interrupting me before I could respond.

  “Bring the vampire to bed when you come back,” she said. “He’s fun.”

  Declan cursed, muffled by his pillow.

  I laughed softly as I turned away from the bed. Kett slipped a hand underneath my elbow, guiding me out of the room into the main section of the suite.

  Softly shutting the door to the bedroom behind us, I crossed to and flicked on the standing lamp beside the couch. The curtains stood open and a hint of light was blooming across the lake. The reconstruction I’d collected in the park glowed faintly from the coffee table, sitting next to Jasmine’s open laptop.

  “Bored watching me sleep, hey?” I arched an eyebrow at Kett. “Before or after you went through Jasmine’s notes?”

  He inclined his head. “The tech witch hasn’t changed her password.”

  “Oh, well. That’s practically an invitation.”

  He chuckled softly, crossing to gaze out at the predawn light along the water.

  I curled up on the couch, playing briefly with my bracelet and waiting to see where Kett wanted to start the conversation. I didn’t mind letting him lead. I found that his questions, along with his rare answers, often gave me a different perspective on things. I watched the magic swirl within my reconstruction as a comfortable silence fell between us. Blue witch magic — my magic, paired with residual from Coral’s attempt to free herself from Yale’s ensnarement — swirled within slashes of the deep, dreadful red that marked the vampire’s power.

  “Have you found the girl?” Kett asked, not turning from the window.

  “No.”

  “Will you play the reconstruction for me?”

  I shifted forward toward the coffee table, but the vampire settled beside me with the glowing cube in hand before I got my foot to the floor. I managed to not flinch, but only because I was still in the haze of trying to wake up without a liberal application of coffee.

  Kett held the reconstruction aloft on his fingertips before us. I settled back on the couch, then deliberately leaned toward him, allowing my shoulder to rest lightly against his in an attempt to initiate intimacy. He relaxed back onto the couch and into the physical contact, acknowledging my awkward attempt to bond without question. Still, it was similar to leaning against a chilly concrete wall. Or, given Kett’s complexion, perhaps marble was a more apt comparison.

  “So playing reconstructions still stymies you,” I said teasingly.

  “Witch magic doesn’t come at my behest,” he said, more seriously than I’d anticipated. “I can feel magic, sometimes even see it. For instance, this cube glows. And I’m naturally resistant to most spells and charms. But I cannot cast.”

  He didn’t sound mournful or regretful, but I felt inconsiderate all the same. “I apologize for the intrusive question,” I said. “I was trying to be playful. I’m not … I don’t have a lot of practice at … this …”

  “I understood. However, I’m simply attempting to communicate more clearly. As requested.”

  I laughed. Then I quieted as I recalled how the magic we’d called forth had whirled around us as we danced in the ballroom at Fairchild Park, just before I’d made the request for more clarity in our conversations.

  “Will it be the same for me?” I forced myself to focus on the present. “When you remake me? Will I be able to cast? To create reconstructions?”

  “I don’t know.”

  When he didn’t elaborate, I glanced his way with a smile. “That must be difficult to admit.”

  He flashed me a grin that looked almost involuntary. “I believe there is a good chance you will be able to retain some of your abilities … but you will likely need to relearn most of them. To adapt to casting with your new … form. Few vampires have the patience to focus on such things when they are fledglings. And when the transformation takes full hold of them, they find they have lost the abilities. But it is likely that it will not be so … all-consuming for you.”

  “The bloodlust, you mean?” Though my stomach twisted with nervous anticipation, I was pleased that my voice was steady.

  He nodded almost imperceptibly. “The need to hunt. The desire to consume. Almost as if the act of doing so might fill the … emptiness that comes with the loss of your humanity.” He paused as if remembering something. Then he whispered, “That was how it was for me. A fruitless endeavor. I have not personally guided another fledgling through their transformation, but I have discovered that the process might be different for you. My maker was young.”

  “While you’re absolutely ancient,” I said, trying to inject some lightness back into our conversation. Continually focusing on a future filled only with dark prospects was draining. I preferred the present, and the idea — whether false or not — that I controlled my thoughts and actions in the moment.

  A smile ghosted across Kett’s face. But then he shifted his steady gaze to the cube, lifting it slightly. “My grandsire is … intrigued with the newest addition to his shiver.”

  “Yale.”

  “Indeed. A former amplifier.”

  An amplifier. An Adept with the ability to amplify or augment another’s power, though such Adepts usually had no ability to wield other magic themselves. That explained the silver or white halo I’d spotted in the reconstructions of the ruddy-haired vampire. “Which makes him extra valuable.” I couldn’t contain the anger that tainted my words.

  “For his blood at least.”

  I glanced at Kett. “But not for his ability to make multiple vampires?”

  “What good are weak fledglings?”

  “They could control themselves.”

  “Yale controlled them.”

  “What do you mean by ‘for his blood,’ then?”

  “My grandsire has … maintained his position for so long because he is the most powerful among us.”

  “More powerful than you?”

  “He possesses certain gifts that I do not.”

  “Like the one he passed to your maker?”

  “And others.”

  I glanced away from the reconstruction Kett still held aloft, studying his profile for a moment. His lips curled into an amused smile, but he didn’t look away from the cube. Everything was some sort of test with the executioner … or a lesson.

  “He can absorb the powers of other vampires, other Adepts, by drinking their blood,” I said. It was just a guess. But last January, within the maelstrom of magic I’d called forth at Fairchild Manor, Kett had bitten me, drunk my blood, then walked away untouched through magic that had immolated two other vampires. “As you do.”

  “Sometimes the effects are temporary with the blood of other Adepts. I couldn’t wield a witch’s magic, even if I drained her.”

  “But with vampires?”

  “I have accumulated much during the course of my time as the executioner of the Conclave.”

  “Valko wasn’t worth draining,” I whispered, echoing Kett’s disdain after he’d severed the rogue vampire’s head. “But others have been.”

  He nodded slightly.

  I swallowed, feeling a bit heady — though not as aghast as I should have been. For a witch who strove to walk in the light, at least.

  “Your grandsire is … milking Yale?” I couldn’t help feeling a bit vindicated at the thought of Yale being continually drained against his will.

  “Fitting,” Kett said, darkly echoing my thoughts. “Considering what he allowed Valko to do to Jasmine.”

  Pleased by the sentiment, I settled my hand on the vampire’s knee, leaning sideways to brush a light kiss against his chiseled cheek.

  “I wouldn’t be too pleased about it,” he said, ruining the moment. “That is why we’ll be avoiding London as much as possible. My grandsire fears to drink from me, after Peru. But when I take you as my child, that reluctance will likely be
negated. For both of us.”

  Ignoring the chill that ran up my spine at Kett’s use of the word ‘us’ and what that might mean, I asked, “What happened in Peru?”

  “I drank from a dragon.”

  “A dragon?” I echoed stupidly. I wondered how he had managed to find and catch such a creature, and why he wanted to drink its blood in the first place. Then, shocked, I realized what he was talking about. “A guardian?”

  “No. A rogue trapped in fledgling form. Powerful enough to distract us from our treasure hunt, but not so powerful that ingesting her blood destroyed me.” His tone turned thoughtful. “Not that I knew as much at the time. And I did vomit a fair amount. All over Jade.”

  “And …” I struggled to follow the sequence of events he was piecing together for me. “Your ability to survive such … consumption concerns your grandsire?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I thought he … I thought power was important to him.” And before Kett could answer me, a pertinent piece of our pending future clicked into place for me. “Is that why he forced you into the contract with Jasper … with me?”

  “No.” He brushed his fingers across my hand, which still rested on his knee. “The contract was inked before Peru.”

  He touched my bracelet lightly. The artifact fascinated him, though I wasn’t sure whether that was more for its ability to harm him — and other vampires — or because it had been created by Jade Godfrey. Perhaps that was the same reason he went treasure hunting with the dowser as well. It seemed an unlikely friendship. But I understood the bond that formed when you almost died for another person. As I had for Jasmine and Declan, and they for me. As Jade and Kett had for each other.

  “I’m sure the dowser was pleased that you survived,” I said, feeling the need to acknowledge his confession but not wanting to offer empty platitudes.

  Kett laughed the way he did when he was thinking of Jade. And for the first time, the sound made me wistful.

  “Will we be friends?” I asked. “With the dowser?”

  “I hope so,” he said earnestly. “Though I’m uncertain as to how she will react when she sees you at my side.”

  “You haven’t mentioned … me … us?”

 

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