He smiled. “Ah, Chris. I adore her. She’s a delightful little misfit with a temper to match. It is a pleasure to watch her. How is she faring these days? Still causing trouble?”
“A vampire,” I responded.
He sat up in the chair and his eyes widened. “Really? How did that happen?”
“A long story,” I said. It wasn’t that long, but I didn’t want to spend the visit talking about Chris. “She thought you would be able to answer some questions for me.”
The gentle smile remained, his demeanor relaxed and kind as he periodically glanced in Ethan’s direction. “Of course. I will do my best. May I ask that once I answer your questions, that you offer a favor to me in the future?”
The pupils were abysmal, expanding so much that it overtook the eyes. The variegate markings of the tattoos moved like scrolls revealing distinctively different markings just as foreign as the original. The room pulsed with enough strange magic that both Ethan and I gasped in a breath, suffocating under the power of it.
“No,” Ethan blurted. “No favors. If you answer our questions, there will be no debts, no favors. We will pay you cash if necessary, but nothing more.”
Then I remembered Josh’s warning from a couple of years ago to never make a deal with a Tre’ase. It was so easy to forget as the hospitable demon trickster sucked us in, weakening our defenses.
The interest in our visit diminished significantly and he didn’t hide it, but he still maintained his pleasantness. “I don’t require your money, just a remembrance that I helped you when you offered nothing to me.”
I didn’t answer; it seemed like a convoluted way of asking for a favor.
“We acknowledge the assistance, but offer nothing more,” Ethan said.
He sighed, “Very well.”
I was glad Ethan had come, and when I looked in his direction, he simply smiled. Yep, I was out of my depths and it was getting more annoying each day. Just when I thought I had this crazy world figured out, another wrench was thrown into the machine. There were too many rules and too much trickery.
The smile had lost some of its warmth, but it was kind enough. “What information do you seek?”
“Spirit shades: what do you know about them?”
“They are nothing more than unsettled souls cursed to walk the earth without a body. Nothing special.”
“Do you know how many there are?” I asked.
“I am sure there are still spirit shades, but not nearly as many as there were in my youth. We are becoming extinct, maybe less than a thousand of us exist, and most do not live here in the States. No one really requests that we create spirit shades anymore. It is such a taxing effort that the offerings for us to do it is considerable. I assume those that do know of our abilities, aren’t willing to pay the cost,” he said, shrugging it off.
Chris’ list was grossly inaccurate. Maybe a thousand?
“Perhaps it is better that people do not request that of us. I have not created one, and I doubt that I will.”
“And why is that?” Ethan asked.
“Except for a few humans who were made shades as punishment, it is far crueler than death for them—”
“Because the idea of being immortal,” I offered.
“No, because they are alive but unable to live without a body to experience life through. They usually have a problem finding hosts. After all, they have nothing to offer to another human, and no one with great powers would ever consider it. Once again, because they don’t have power. In contrast, if the shade is strong they are sought after by many, because the host will share in its power. Most shades were killed for a reason. To give them a chance to exist again is a very unwise decision. I am sure there are many types of powerful shades: witches, elves, mages, and even demons. Of course, no one could change a vampire for obvious reasons, and your kind,” he paused and studied us for a long time, “back then weren’t the pretty little things you are now. Then you were more animal than man: gruesome, vile creatures.” He cringed at the memory. “Animals cannot become shades.”
Ethan snorted in derision.
Really, that’s your line in the sand. He basically sexually harassed you and made out with you—and calling you a “pretty little thing” is where you take offense?
“What about the faes? Are they immune to such a fate?” Ethan asked.
Logan’s eyes widened. “It was mutually accepted that we would never help them, but of course there are some of my kind that enjoy the anarchy and destruction that only a fae can deliver.”
"Really? Faes?" Ethan asked, surprised.
Logan laughed. It was a gentle rumbling sound and his odd eyes held an amused twinkle with our avid curiosity. “Yes, you all call them faes now, which is quite fitting since they are mere fractions of their ancestors, the Faerie. What this world considers fae,” he rolled his eyes, “are what I consider demi-Faerie, if not quarter-Faerie. Their mere tricks and poor execution of their pitiful little spells are just a minuscule representation of what Faeries can do.” He did a comical gesticulation of his hand. “Oooh, my magic can make you fall in love with me. Look at me, my magic can force truth with a kiss.” He stopped, becoming very serious. “Whatever little spells they manage is nothing compared to their Faerie ancestors.”
He stood to get himself a cup of coffee. His movement wasn’t as smooth as someone of his build should be; he rather lumbered about. I wondered if he used his glamour body so infrequently that he had very little control of it. We declined coffee. But when he came back with a large cup of French vanilla flavored coffee, the scent made me want to reconsider. They were such tricksters that I didn’t feel confident in anything they offered to eat or drink.
“Where was I? Oh yes. Faeries, the original, were powerful beings, masters of chaos and violence. They were so powerful in strength and magic that they were feared by most in this world. No one bothered them. The only thing that stopped them was the limited number of them that existed. Too few to be the threat that they could have been. They possessed the strongest and most nearly unstoppable form of magic that I had ever seen. They had the ability to manipulate the world with the same ease with which we blink our eyes. They reproduced with each other, but their progeny were so few it was only a matter of time before they mated with humans. You want to retain power, you don’t reproduce with the weakest...it never turns out well.” He caught himself and looked in our direction and the smile widened. “Well, sometimes it works out. Were-animals were dreadful creatures. I still find it difficult to believe they found willing human mates.” He shrugged. “Perhaps they weren’t all willing. Or maybe they were; we all have our own little perversions. Faeries made us look like docile little peddlers of magic. No, you definitely didn’t want to make a Faerie a shade. Doing so would likely ensure your death.”
“Why?” I asked.
“We all like magic and power. Even death has its appeal.” He smiled in Ethan’s direction. “That is why I am enjoying this visit so much. It can be cleansing, whether it’s yours or someone else’s, and it settles well on the palate.”
Ethan didn’t seem nearly disturbed as I was with Logan’s fascination with death. He kept the indiscernible look on his face.
“How does creating a Faerie as a shade ensure the death of a Tre’ase?” I asked.
“You create a shade, you are linked to it indefinitely, which has its advantages. But as I stated before, usually shades were formerly powerful beings, and that craving to have possession of it again doesn’t die with the loss of their body. They are very selective of their hosts, seeking ones with the ability to use magic. They pick hosts that are weak enough that the idea of hosting them is a benefit. The longer it is hosted, the closer the bond becomes and then one begins to wonder if the actions of the host are truly their desires or that of the hosted. I can imagine that it can become quite the dilemma. The hosted lives past the life of its host. Once the host dies, it moves on to find another one. And they will continue to live until the Tre’ase
that created it dies. Now you see why I don’t want the hassle. What if the shade is a terror and needs to be stopped? Well, you can kill the host, but the shade lives on and will just find another body to inhabit. You kill the Tre’ase and you correct that problem.”
My stomach crawled into knots, but I did everything I could not to react. I kept a simple smile on my face. Logan considered both Ethan and me for some time, finding me less interesting than Ethan. Flecks of mischief played in his eyes and wandered onto the smile that hadn’t wavered since we first arrived.
Logan relaxed back on the couch. “This visit has been quite nice for me,” he said. “Please come again, under a different agreement.” When he stood, we knew the conversation was over. He hadn’t gotten anything out of it more than being in the presence of power, magic and death, which seemed to appease him during our visit.
He directed us out of the home, but reiterated several times that we were welcome to return.
His door would always be open to us. Of course it was. It was open to anyone willing to strike a deal with him.
I tried to keep pace with Ethan as we walked back to the car. Distracted, he seemed to have forgotten I was even there. “What was that about?” I asked.
He stopped abruptly. “What?”
“The Tre’ase, either they love you or hate you. The one that claims to have an obscure fondness for death was quite intrigued by you,” I pointed out.
The placid blue with the hint of gunmetal, which was difficult to read, fastened on me. He shrugged. “Make up your mind. Are you concerned that they like me or dislike me?”
“I’m concerned with both. Why is one who professes an adoration for death so intrigued by you?”
“As with you, I try not to concern myself with what goes in the mind of someone that I will never understand. It makes life simpler that way.” And with that he ended the conversation.
I wish I could be as dismissive about it all. What was Maya? I knew she had power, but what was she really: Witch? Elf? Demon? Faerie? I didn’t know her age, so could she be a fae, a weaker descendent of the Faeries. That didn’t make sense. Who would go through the trouble of killing a fae? She had to be worse because she was stronger now. It scared me that at one time she was dormant, but was now becoming increasingly more active. Who was it that desired Ethos’ magic: me or Maya? Was I slowly being crowded out into nonexistence, just a shell used to do her bidding?
I sat in the car for a long time before I could even drive, remembering Winter’s words of concern about Maya’s increasing presence. I can manipulate magic and change natural magic to dark magic—something witches can’t do—and bring a vampire back from reversion—something were-animals can’t do. Silver doesn’t affect me and I have a peculiar bond with protected objects and I can borrow magic. It didn’t concern me then because I was used to being an anomaly. Before, I wondered who would kill a child, but now I wondered what about the child made someone want or need to kill it.
The only thing that I was sure of was that Gloria, the first Tre’ase who was able to sense Maya’s presence, was dead. If what Logan told us was true, I would have died when she did if she had been Maya’s creator. I needed to find the Tre’ase that created her. Its death meant mine. The thought made me sick. The acts of someone that I didn’t know could lead to my demise. I considered going back to Logan but decided against it. If it wasn’t for Ethan, I would have made a deal with him.
CHAPTER 9
Ethan’s car was already parked in the driveway when I pulled into the pack’s home, but Josh’s was still gone. Standing in front of Gavin’s car was the peculiar and deviant vampire Sable. Her voluminous dark hair framed her small round face. Her deceptive wide-eyed innocence, chocolate eyes, and cherub appearance belied her infamy as the psychotic little vampire that most feared for a reason.
The petite brunette didn’t look the same as she had a couple months ago in the pack’s living room, fawning over Gavin. Sable was the Seethe’s little problem child and she had developed a fondness for our problem child. Her skin, usually parchment, was now grayish, a side effect of coming out before dawn broke. The older vampires were not as limited, and if they fed from a fae they had the ability to move that timeline up a couple of hours. So close to six o’clock—it was several hours from sundown—someone Sable’s age should be resting.
“Is he here?” she asked me in a small voice.
“I think so,” I said. Like her creator, Sable had an odd inclination for feeding from were-animals. Were-animals couldn’t sustain vampires, and the craving was more of a limbic desire that I believed was rooted in the need for domination. Were-animals weren’t known for feeding vampires, and if a vampire ever tried to feed from them, their efforts were usually met with violence. Most vampires held a similar dislike and disgust at the idea of feeding from a were-animal. Sable and her creator was definitely an anomaly. Her strange infatuation with Gavin was something no one could understand.
“Will you let him know I am here for him?” This was how her victims succumbed to her. Docile and gentle, it was hard to believe that she was the infamous vampire, who as a human had been in all the newspapers as the perpetrator of one of the most heinous crimes ever committed in Illinois. No one would ever believe the young woman with the large eyes was capable of the eight murders she committed when she was human. Two of them were vengeance for the killing of her family. The others were family and friends of the people that murdered her family. As a vampire, her cruelty had reached a new level. She was the vampires’ weapon of destruction, so far removed from humanity people often wondered if she had ever possessed it.
I nodded and started toward the house with more of a desire to distance myself from her than to get Gavin. Before I reached the house, Gavin came out. Her face brightened at his approach. That odd longing that draped so heavily over her disappeared.
She smiled and watched him with as much adoration and intrigue as she had the first time she saw him and described him as beautiful. Describing him in such glowing terms was a stretch because his personality marred him. If you could get past the jackass that housed the slender build, tawny skin, and piercing, crescent-shaped eyes and the generous supple lips that were often twisted into a sneer, then you might have been able to consider him attractive—very attractive. He kept fidgeting with the anthracite hair, unsuccessfully trying to tuck it behind his ears each time it fell into his face.
“I waited for you to come to visit me,” she said, as her frown quickly turned to a pouty moue.
He focused on the forest behind her, a yearning for it that he wasn’t able to ignore. Mercury rose tonight, forcing the felidae into their animal form.
“And?” He barely made eye contact as his arms crossed over his chest.
“You haven’t been home all day,” she pointed out, frustrated.
He shrugged. “So.” He seemed bored and her grilling him seemed to be of no interest to him. He focused on her for just seconds before he returned his attention to the thicket.
He stared at it, distracted; Sable touched his arm to redirect his attention. “Are you here with her?” she asked. She frowned. “Is Kelly here?”
“Yes, she is here.” Again his attention floated back to the woods.
“I don’t like it.”
He leaned down, his stern gaze meeting hers. He spoke softly but in a tone that commanded compliance. “Go home,” he said before turned and started for the house.
“I will kill her and take her from you!” Her hands clenched into fists, and her lips trembled as she hissed her venomous threat. She might as well have dropped to the ground with her arms flailing about because this was nothing more than a tantrum. A fit because the vampires’ little princess didn’t get her way.
He stopped mid-stride, his lips pressed into a stern line as he inhaled a deep, slow breath and exhaled it even slower. Then he returned to her. Rendered speechless by his presence, his indomitable gaze held hers for a long time in silence. When he finally spoke i
t was soft and steeled. “You will never touch her. Do you understand me?”
She dropped her head and nodded.
He lifted her chin gently until her eyes met his. “I need to hear it.”
“I won’t touch her,” she said with a regretful gentleness.
The stern look remained as he brushed her hair away and then kissed her gently on the forehead. “Now go home.” Then he turned his back to her, something I wouldn’t have done, as angry as she was. But she didn’t move. Once he made it to the house, he turned from the door and simply mouthed “Now.” Lacking the ability to travel—and simply vanish like Demetrius, Michaela, and Quell could, she scurried to her car, and quickly sped away.
Both Ethan and Sebastian waited for Gavin as he approached. Little sparks of gold rolled over his chocolate eyes and he seemed tense. Trembling hands ran through his hair, distant eyes were barely able to focus on them.
“Gavin,” Ethan said just to his right.
Gavin turned but he looked unusually agitated. Gold shimmered briefly and then dimmed, smothered by his dark natural eyes. His breaths were measured and slow, but his heartbeat was erratic.
Sebastian, watching Gavin closely, spoke in a mild tone. “Mercury is rising and you need to change. Shouldn’t you be outside preparing with the others?”
“What do I need to prepare for? It peaks. I change. Then I run around in panther form for a couple hours, and then I am back. Preparation isn’t needed,” he shot back.
I wondered if Sebastian and Ethan ever grew tired of dealing with such an antagonistic, ill-tempered person like Gavin, or did they encourage the challenge? Most were-animals submitted easily—they were a force that most wouldn’t dare defy, but Gavin didn’t seem to mind taking on the task.
“I’m not going to leave her here alone while it roams through this house unchecked.”
“We will make sure she is okay,” Sebastian said.
“Of course, because you all did a great job before,” he said, rolling his eyes.
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