by Cynthia Eden
Lucas froze. Then he turned his head, very slowly, and met that black stare. “Demon, if you think you can take me, come on and try.”
Sarah’s fingers curled around his arm. “Lucas . . . remember why we’re here.”
The demon’s gaze dropped to that touch. Studied it. “Does your charmer know how many you’ve killed, Alpha?”
He wouldn’t look at Sarah. “You seem to know,” he said instead. “And yet you’re still stupid enough to keep talking right now?”
And that shut up the little bastard. The demon turned and scurried away.
Lucas growled and when he glanced back at Piers, he found the other guy watching him, too closely. “Don’t believe any shit they tell you here,” he ordered Piers, but really, the guy should have enough sense to know that. “They try to break you so they can use you.”
A fucking Magic Hole. That’s what this place was. He could feel the edge of the dark magic pulling at him. Some places were thought of as hotspots for the supernaturals. Places where power could peak. Yeah, this wasn’t a place like that. It was a place that would suck you dry and here, only those who bled the others—only those would get stronger.
Get out.
As soon as he could, they’d be leaving and not coming back. Because a place like this, where the power was so close, so close and all you had to do was—
Reach out and kill for it.
—it was tempting him.
So he knew the magic was calling to Piers.
Sarah’s hold tightened. “Let’s find this Josette and get out of here.”
Right.
They climbed down the stairs. Eyes watched them. Whispers followed. Almost every kind of paranormal out there liked to set up a safe house of sorts. Vamps created feeding rooms, bars that lured in unsuspecting human prey. Demons who were addicted to drugs flocked to their damn dens.
And then places like this . . . holes for the darkest of the Other . . . lurked in the big cities.
Lucas kept his claws out. He figured he’d be fighting his way out soon enough.
But no one approached them, not yet. A makeshift bar was set up near the foot of the stairs. Piers headed to it and slapped his hands on the surface. “Josette.”
The bartender stared back at him.
“I know she’s here.” Piers glared back. “Do you really want me to claw the truth out of you again?”
And Lucas saw the healing scratches on the bartender’s muscled arms.
The guy grunted and pointed to the left. Another door.
A trap?
Probably.
But they went toward that door anyway. And with every step they took, the scent of death deepened around them.
He risked a quick glance at Sarah. She hadn’t caught the scent. Wouldn’t for a while yet. But . . .
Death waited behind that door.
Piers reached for the knob. Lucas got ready for the battle that was coming. So much death, the scent clogged his nose and he wondered what he’d find, how many bodies, how much blood, how—
The door swung open. Candles sputtered in the room, the only light that glowed, and illuminated the kneeling woman. A white circle had been drawn on the floor, it surrounded her. Her long black hair hid her face.
But he didn’t need to see her face in order to recognize Josette. And, damn, what had happened to her? Because that scent of death was coming from her.
She didn’t look up. Not when they came inside and not when the door shut behind them. She knelt there, frozen like a statue, and waited.
It was Sarah who moved first. She pulled free of Lucas and walked across the room. She bent, coming close to Josette, but Lucas noticed she was very careful not to touch that white circle. Smart.
Sarah put the ring on the wooden floor. Sat it down and . . . Josette’s head snapped up. She was just as beautiful, her face just as perfect as it had always been, her skin still a sweet dark cream but her eyes . . . they were different. The darkness of her eyes just looked . . . empty.
“I know she’s gone.” Josette’s voice was perfectly modulated. No whisper of Louisiana, though Lucas knew that had been her home for many years. “You didn’t have to bring me proof.”
She didn’t reach for the ring. Just stared at it.
Then her gaze lifted to Lucas. “You came to kill me.”
“I came to find out what the hell you’re doing.” That scent was clogging his nostrils. Since when did a human smell like death?
Her gaze dropped to the ring. “Vampires killed my mother. I thought—for years I thought they were the ones I should hate.”
“Most vamps are bastards that need hating,” Piers said, edging around behind Josette.
“Most,” she whispered. “But they aren’t the only monsters out there.”
“No,” Lucas agreed. “You’re surrounded by monsters right now, aren’t you?”
Her gaze rose once more and tears glistened in her eyes. “I let the monster in. I’m the one.”
Sarah still knelt near the other woman. “You know Rafe, don’t you?”
“Rafael.” Whispered with emotion. Love. Pain. Hate. “I knew him when we were children. My grand-mère took him in. I thought he was safe. I-I didn’t know . . .” She swallowed. “This time, I took him in. I let him in.” Her hands turned over and she stared at her smooth palms. “All the blood is on me.”
“There’s nothing on you,” Sarah told her. “Have you been taking something? You could be hallucinating. Nothing’s there, it’s—”
A choked laugh interrupted her words. “The blood is always there now. Never thought I had much power, thought I was safe. Normal. I tried to be for so long . . .” Her shoulders fell. “But I guess I was good at one thing.”
Lucas glanced around the room, searching for more threats, but he saw nothing. Just the small woman.
“He killed Maxime and Helene. He killed them when I wouldn’t give him the Dust. I told him I didn’t work the magic. That grand-mère had all the power, but he said she wouldn’t see him.” Soft, slow. “I said I wouldn’t help him, I said I wanted to be normal.”
Sarah’s hand lifted, as if she were going to reach over the circle and touch Josette. “Don’t,” he growled because he knew just how powerful those magical circles could be.
Sarah’s hand froze in mid-air.
“He killed Maxime and Helene because they blocked him from getting to grand-mère, and then he went after my Martin.” She breathed the other man’s name on a sigh.
“I would have done anything for Martin.” Her eyes rose to Sarah’s. “You’ll know what that’s like soon.”
The hair rose on Lucas’s nape.
“I got the Dust. Grand-mère gave it to me. She didn’t like it, but—she gave it to me. She would’ve given me anything. I always knew that.” Such aching sadness. “Then I gave it to the bastard . . . but he still took my Martin.”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered.
Josette kept talking. The words tumbled from her lips. “Martin was going to marry me. He was going to make sure I never had to face the Darkness again. He was going to be mine!”
That was when Lucas noticed the other ring. A diamond ring, resting in that cast circle.
“I wasn’t ready to let him go.” She reached for the diamond ring and traced it with a loving fingertip. “Grand-mère said I should, but I just wasn’t ready. You see, I’d waited for him my whole life.” Her eyes squeezed closed and a tear tracked down her cheek as she whispered, “Death wasn’t going to take him away from me.”
Chapter 15
Hell. “We can’t always stop death,” Lucas told her, but the words were a reminder the woman shouldn’t need. She’d lost both her parents long ago. She knew what a fickle bitch death could be.
At that, Josette’s lashes lifted and her dark eyes met his. “It turns out I can.” The ghost of a smile curved her full lips. “Seems I do have a bit of power after all.”
“What did you do?” Sarah asked her, and Piers just stoo
d, watching. “You didn’t . . .”
“I wasn’t letting him go!” Josette jumped to her feet, but stayed inside that circle. Sarah rose, too. “He was mine. I tried to get him back. How is that wrong? I tried . . . and he came.”
Because little Josette had raised the dead. Oh, she hadn’t made a zombie the way Hollywood portrayed them to be. No mindless monster that had to eat brains. No, the Raised didn’t feed on humans. Didn’t feed on anyone; well, not unless the person who’d raised them gave that order.
“You crossed the line, Josette.” He kept his voice firm because to raise the dead, hell, that took some very dark magic.
Bokor. That was the name for the one who used the Dark powers. But there was a price for that magic, there always was.
“I brought him back. He didn’t have to die! I brought him back and—”
“And you brought the Haitian back, too, didn’t you?” Piers narrowed his eyes on her. “Him and the woman.”
Her lips trembled. “They didn’t deserve to die.”
“But they did die,” Lucas pointed out. “You’re not the one who gets to yank them back, you’re not—”
“Fucking vampires cheat death! They come back, they live forever! They feed on humans and they kill and destroy.” Josette’s chest heaved. “Martin, Maxime, and Helene—they were good people. They should have gotten to keep living.” She shoved back her hair. “So I gave them a chance.”
No, because he knew how this worked. Josette wasn’t the only one who’d ever been tempted. “They don’t come back the same. You know that.”
Her bottom lip still trembled but she caught it, biting it with her top teeth.
“They don’t have a will of their own.” Piers spoke now. Yeah, figured he’d know all about the Raised, too. Because that was what they were called in the right circles. Raised. “They’re puppets. They have to do whatever you command.”
Her hair flew back as she shook her head, hard. “I commanded them to live, that was all. They had choices. They had free will!”
Had. Interesting word choice. Lucas let his gaze rake her. “You know Maxime and Helene are back in the grave, don’t you?”
Her eyelids flickered. “Grand-mère released them.” Flat.
“And what about Martin? Did she release Martin, too?”
Her gaze dropped to the diamond ring. “I did that.” She swallowed and the painful click was too loud. “He . . . asked . . . he didn’t want to stay with me. He knew what . . . he was and he didn’t want to stay with me. He said—he said I’d made him into a monster.” A tear tracked down her cheek. “I just wanted to save him!” Her eyes looked as dark as a demon’s. “But he said I was the one who’d turned him into a nightmare. Me!”
Sarah’s gaze cut toward Lucas. Her expression was so stark—but then she glanced back at Josette. “He didn’t realize what you’d done for him.”
Her shoulders fell. “I traded everything for him. There’s no going back now. Once the Dark gets you . . .” Her hand lifted and her fingers curled into a fist. “There’s no fighting.”
The hair on his nape was still up. Lucas looked at the symbols she’d written so carefully around her circle. Some signs he recognized. Some had him worried as hell. And some . . . some he didn’t understand at all. “What’s the circle for, Josette?”
“I can hear the dead,” she said, speaking quietly. “They call to me now. Some are stronger than others, and some want to rise.”
Fuck. “Who are you bringing back?”
“Grand-mère.” Whispered.
“No!” Sarah’s voice snapped out, fueled with an angry heat. “No, she doesn’t want to come back. I don’t know what you think you’re hearing, but Marie wouldn’t want to be pulled from the grave.”
“She’s not in the grave yet . . .”
“She wouldn’t want this!” Sarah’s cheeks flushed. Josette’s head whipped toward her. “How would you know? You know nothing about her, you don’t know—”
“Marie could see the future, couldn’t she?”
“She could see everything.”
Lucas knew that was true.
“Then she knew Death was coming,” Sarah said, and Lucas saw her shoes edge closer to that line. No. “She didn’t fight her attacker. She let him in, let him get close enough to kill.”
“Damn you!” Josette lunged forward. Her hand flew out of the circle and caught Sarah’s arm.
A hiss of sound filled the room, just like a snake’s hiss. The candles flickered.
“Marie knew.” Sarah kept talking. Her body was still out of the circle, and Josette was trapped inside. “She said—she told me, ‘There’s no saving everyone. No matter how you fight, Death will still be there.’ ”
Josette swayed.
“She wants you to let her go. She told me, I didn’t understand then, but she said—”
“I won’t be alone, I won’t!” Josette screamed.
Then Sarah lunged forward, slamming her body into Josette’s, and the two women pitched back, falling right out of that circle.
The hiss died away. The candles stopped flickering.
“She’s gone.” Sarah crouched over Josette. “Let her go.”
Josette started to cry, not just silent trickles of tears. Deep, gulping sobs.
The door shattered, sending wood flying into the room. Lucas spun around, claws up, and saw Maya and her shifter shoving through the wood.
Ah, figured they’d be here now. Always a little late to the party.
But Maya froze after taking just a step. “Why the hell does this place smell . . .” Her nostrils flared a bit and he knew she’d caught the stench of death. “Josie, what have you done?”
“Just raised a little dead,” Lucas muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and wondering what would have happened if Sarah hadn’t gotten Josette out of that circle. “Just a little dead.”
Josette cried harder and he heard her choke out, “Martin.” “Oh, damn.” Understanding filled Maya’s voice. She crept forward, but Josette immediately flinched. Josette’s hands curled tight around Sarah.
“Josette.” Lucas said her name, deliberately making it snap like a whip.
Her head jerked up.
He knew grief was ripping her apart, but time was his enemy right then. He didn’t want any more dead on the streets. “You know Rafe killed Marie, don’t you?”
A slow nod.
He growled, satisfied. “So that means you stay the hell off my back, vampire.”
“He’s still mine.” Figured Maya wouldn’t back off that easily.
Josette’s gaze darted between them.
Maya tried taking another step forward. “Josette, let me help you.”
“No one can help me.” But she kept holding onto Sarah.
Lucas unclenched his teeth. “You have a cure for the Dust?”
“There is no cure.” No more tears. Flat, emotionless. Like the woman had totally shut down now, her fight gone.
Fucking fantastic. “Where’s Rafe?”
She just stared up at him.
His teeth were clenching again. “Where. Is. He?” He stalked toward her. “You want vengeance for what he’s done? I’ll give you vengeance. I’ll rip his head off and I’ll bring it to you and you can make sure no one ever lets that bastard rise.” His breath heaved out. “Just tell me where he is.”
“I don’t know.”
Maya took a few more steps. “That’s a circle for protection, Josie. Did you think he was coming after you?”
“I know he is.” A sad smile. “Rafe always likes to—”
“Tie up loose ends,” Sarah finished.
Josette looked at Sarah then, a deep, probing look. “He told me about you.”
Oh, this wasn’t going to be good. Lucas reached for Sarah’s hand and closed his fingers around hers. “We can’t stay here.” There was nothing more to learn. If Josette wasn’t—
“He thought you were his mate,” she told Sarah.
“He thought wron
g,” was her immediate answer.
“Rafael thought you’d be the one to give him the thing he desired most.” Her dark gaze slid to Lucas. “For wolves, it’s always about the base needs, isn’t it? Lust, hunger, vengeance.”
Lucas held her stare. “I didn’t start the war. He came gunning for me.” Not like he’d just stand there and become the asshole’s bitch. “No one makes that mistake and lives.”
Her stare slipped to his savaged ear. “Wound for wound,” she whispered. “The way of the beast.”
No, the way of the beast was tooth and claw until death. Fight and kill. Or damn well be killed.
“He knows your weakness, Lucas Simone.” She rose with Sarah, her body shaking just a bit. “That’s how he works. He knew my weakness, and he used it against me. Knew mine, knew grand-mère’s.”
The mambo had a weakness?
Her breath whispered out. “Rafael always knows how to hurt his prey the most.”
Good damn deal for him. “I’m not afraid of pain.”
For just an instant, her dark gaze seemed to fog, the way he’d seen Marie’s do once. “Very soon, you will be.”
Not likely. “I can handle any pain the bastard throws at me.”
“I never said it would be your pain.” Her gaze drifted over Maya.
“Now you sound like Marie,” Maya said.
Josette’s face tightened.
“Piers, take Josette back to the compound.” His gaze met the other shifter’s. Don’t let her out of your sight. There was much more to learn from Josette, he knew it. He just didn’t want to question her more with the vamp and her bodyguard /mate there.
Sure, they had an alliance, of sorts, and he was in the unfortunate situation of actually owing Brody, but he made it a policy not to trust vamps too far. Or at all, really.
At his words, Maya shook her head. “Josette’s coming with me.” She offered her hand, palm up, to the other woman. “You know I’ll keep you safe.”
Josette didn’t take the offered hand. “The Dust . . .” She cleared her throat. “Why did you ask about it, Lucas? It wouldn’t hurt wolves, just demons.”
“Rafe used it to infect a demon I know.” That’s all he’d say. Josette and the others didn’t need to know about the hybrid in his pack.