by Jane Kindred
Theia’s gut twisted. “Jesus.”
“Yeah. Some of them lasted...” Lucien’s voice trailed off, and he swallowed again before going on. “A long time. I was supposed to be cleaning up corpses, and there was this kid, this little girl, maybe twelve years old, chained to a radiator. Vamp tracks up and down her arms...everywhere. She was supposed to be dead, but she moved.”
Lucien’s face had gone white. “God, she moved.” He sat up and drew his knees to his chest, and Theia stared, transfixed, not wanting to hear any more but unable to stop him. “I called in the crew foreman to get her help. I stayed with her, told her it was going to be okay, she was safe now. And when the foreman showed up, he...put a bullet in her head.”
“Oh my God. Lucien...”
He dropped his forehead to his knees and shuddered, and Theia sat up and put her arm around him, rubbing his shoulder, not sure what to do.
“I don’t know why I told you that. I’ve never told anyone that. Not even Lucy.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Lucien straightened and jerked away from her. “Of course it was my fault. I’m a Smok. That’s what we do.”
“You tried to help her.”
Lucien laughed bitterly. “Yeah, and you see how that turned out.”
“You were a kid yourself.” Theia was pissed on his behalf. “It’s outrageous that your father would have put you in that situation. You were what, seventeen?”
“Sixteen. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.” She wasn’t sure how to get him out of the dark place he’d descended to, and it seemed suddenly urgent and imperative that she did. “And that was when you got started with your own hunting? At sixteen?” The calm questioning seemed to work. The shadow in Lucien’s eyes faded.
“Not right away. It was just the catalyst. I asked what was going to happen to the bloodsuckers who were responsible, and my father said their sire would deal with them. It’s not good for business to have rogues on the loose, so they’d likely be put down.” His affect had changed, his words now emotionless, as though he’d dissociated. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I decided to look for them and find out for sure. I used a fake ID and signed up as a donor.”
Theia gaped at him. “But you didn’t actually...”
“Of course I did. The ID said I was eighteen, the minimum age allowed. They paid by the hour. You could do a private donation with a single patron for fifty dollars an hour, or you could go to a party and be available on tap. Five hundred a night.”
“On tap? Not a literal...”
“No, though that’s not unheard of. Mostly with fetishists. Groupies. But this was purely a financial transaction. I signed up for a party. There were two other donors, both girls who looked like minors. I thought it would be like the movies, with everybody at a cocktail party, lots of velvet, vamps biting us on the neck.” A slight, embarrassed smile animated his face for an instant and was gone. “But it was way less glamorous. Apparently the telltale wound draws too much attention for donors, and it’s dangerous anyway. Too easy—and too tempting—to drain the donor dry. They needed access to less visible veins. We stripped down to our underwear. The girls were topless.”
Lucien’s expression had gone flat. “The party was in a hotel suite. We were told to circulate—that got some big laughs—and the vamps started feeding on us as we moved around the sitting room. We all tried to make small talk at first, but they weren’t interested in us as people. We were food. The girls were more popular, and one of them ended up passing out because they drained her too quickly. They carried the other one off to the bedroom, and three of the vamps stayed in the outer room with me and pulled out the sofa bed. Apparently, they prefer to feed lying down.”
Theia rested her hand on his wrist, wanting to stop him, but he seemed determined now to get it out.
“When they’d had their fill, they got a little more talkative, and I managed to turn the conversation to the rogues, pretending I was a groupie and I wanted to be owned. I said it was a shame they were gone, but one of the bloodsuckers told me they’d just relocated. He gave me an address, a ranch. I was taking archery at school, and I showed up at the ranch the next morning with my bow loaded with Soul Reaper arrows—the kind I had tonight, to split the demon from the undead frame and send the soul to hell. And I staked every last one of them while they were sleeping.” Lucien shrugged, as if the last part had been incidental. “Didn’t do anything like that again until I was in college.”
Theia was at a total loss for words.
“I’ve talked your ear off.” Lucien had been staring at the wall, and he turned his head to look at her with an apologetic smile, but the smile faltered. “You’re crying.”
Theia put her fingers to her cheek. “I am?” She was. She hadn’t even noticed. “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure exactly what she was apologizing for. The tears were coming faster.
“Theia. Don’t.” He reached out to her, taking the hand she was still holding in front of her, tears on her fingertips. “I didn’t tell you that to play on your emotions.”
“I know you didn’t. It’s just...my gift.”
“Your gift?”
“It comes with the visions. Sometimes instead of images, I pick up on other people’s emotions.” She shrugged, again apologetic. It always seemed like a bit of an intrusion, and one she usually kept to herself. “These aren’t my tears.”
She could feel it now, like a physical blow to her soul. Lucien was in pain. Torn up inside as much as he was bruised and battered outside from his fight with Leo. More so, probably.
He squeezed her hand, wordless, shocked, and didn’t deny it.
Theia started crying in earnest. “Okay, maybe they’re a little bit mine, too.” She grabbed for the tissues on the nightstand, but Lucien reached for her, stopping her. His hands went to either side of her face, thumbs brushing away the tears, and he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.
Every dark warning she’d ever dreamed was rising to the surface, threatening to engulf her. He was mystery. He was danger. There would be no turning back if she dived into these waters. There was no telling how deep they were or what was hiding in them. But she didn’t care. She wanted to drown in him. His kiss was like air beneath the dark waves. As long as she breathed through him, she would survive. Theia threaded her arms through his, hooked them around his neck and let go, giving herself to the deep. The relief at no longer fighting was immediate and intense. She was immersed.
Lucien made a soft sound of pain, and it took her a moment to realize it was physical.
Theia drew back. “Your shoulder?”
“I think I may have sprained it a bit.”
“Maybe next time be more aware of who you’re going after.”
Lucien nodded and lay back on the bed, pulling Theia with him. “I solemnly swear only to hunt actual revenants and demons from now on.” He wrapped her in his arms and started to kiss her again, but Theia hesitated. Lucien frowned. “What’s the matter?”
“About the demons...”
He stroked his hand down Theia’s side. “What about demons?”
Theia grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away with a scowl. “You’ve threatened certain members of my family. I need to know if you’re still planning to harm them.”
“You consider them your family.”
“Absolutely. They’re both my brothers-in-law, but they were family long before that.”
Lucien cocked his head. “I thought Phoebe was the only one who was married.”
“Apparently Dev and Ione eloped. No one is supposed to know. But that’s beside the point.”
She’d gestured with her hand, and Lucien took hold of it and kissed it. “Tell me about Dev, then. Is he possessed or isn’t he?”
Theia sighed. “He’s not. Technically. He was bound to a demon
by a sorcerer he was apprenticed to. The demon was tortured and forced to occupy Dev’s physical form as though it were a cage. Dev nearly died. He didn’t even know what his mentor had done to him until after he woke up in the hospital and something triggered the demon’s release for the first time. Dev has it under control now. They’ve come to an understanding, and the demon is contained by a magical sigil tattooed on his body.”
“An understanding.” Lucien scowled. “How do you come to an understanding with a demon? It’s a monster. A killer.”
“Kur is actually very sweet once you get to know him.”
“Kur? The demon has a name? And you’ve met this abomination?”
“I have. And please stop using the word abomination. It makes you sound like a hellfire-and-brimstone preacher.”
Lucien laughed. “My great-grandfather was a hellfire-and-brimstone preacher, as a matter of fact.”
“Well, that’s delightful.” The touch of his skin, his hand holding hers, was distracting, but she didn’t want to let go. “Listen, why don’t you just meet with Dev? Let him tell you about Kur. Maybe he’ll even let you meet Kur so you can see for yourself. He’s not an abomination, I promise you.”
Lucien seemed to consider it seriously. “If you want to arrange a meeting,” he said at last, “I promise to hear Dev out—but I’ll make up my own mind about the demon.”
It was a start. “Now, about Rafe.”
Lucien groaned and rested his forehead against hers. “Can we talk about him in the morning? I’ve only had two hours’ sleep, and there’s a beautiful woman in my bed, and everything hurts.”
She smiled reluctantly, her cheeks warm. “I would, except...” She glanced at the window behind him. Pale streaks of gold and pink were visible on the horizon, peeking between the tips of the spires of Cathedral Rock in the distance.
“Except what?”
“It’s already morning.”
Lucien turned and followed her gaze. “Well, damn.” He rolled onto his back with a slight wince. “Can I have my two hours anyway? Or do I get kicked out at dawn?”
Theia curled against his side with her head on his chest. “I’ll tell you when I wake up.”
Lucien tightened his arm around her and closed his eyes. “Tell me I’m not still lying in the gravel getting my head kicked in and you’re not some fevered hallucination that will disappear when I open my eyes.”
Theia yawned. “I’m pretty sure I’m not a hallucination. But you did hit your head pretty hard.”
Chapter 10
When Lucien woke again, a cat was in Theia’s place. It figured. Even though he knew this was the infamous Puddleglum, it would be just his luck if Theia were a shape-shifter. Puddleglum sat staring at him like some infernal imp, blinking knowingly as if to say, “Takes one to know one, buddy.”
Theia saved Lucien from imminent hypnotism and enslavement by returning with coffee and a box of doughnuts.
“Thank God.” Lucien sat up and took the cup she handed him. “I think your cat was plotting the trajectory to my jugular. I was playing dead, but I think he was onto me.”
Theia grinned. “He’s way too lazy to bother with live prey. He’d just sit there and wait you out until you died of starvation and then eat your corpse. And probably stalk off in a huff because you weren’t the right texture.”
Lucien took a powdered doughnut from the box with a little offended sniff as Theia climbed into bed and displaced the cat. “I assure you, my texture is everything it ought to be.”
“I take it you’re feeling better.” She examined the eye that had been nearly swollen shut the night before. “I thought I’d let you sleep. I figured it would do you some good.”
“Let me sleep?” Lucien took a bite of his doughnut. “What time is it?”
“One o’clock.”
Lucien inhaled powdered sugar and nearly choked. “In the afternoon? Damn. I have to go.” He kissed her and stuffed the rest of the doughnut in his mouth as he rolled out of bed as gingerly as possible while still maintaining a modicum of masculine dignity. The sharp sting from the cuts and scrapes and cactus spines had given way to an all-over throbbing ache and muscle stiffness.
“Go where? It’s Saturday.”
He couldn’t exactly tell her he had a date with his ex-girlfriend to express his “gratitude” for the information she’d given him about Leo. “I have to meet with a client at two.” He kept his head down over his coffee cup, hating that he was already lying to her. This was the other problem with having feelings for someone.
Theia set down her cup and got up. “Your car’s at Rafe’s. I’ll have to drive you. I don’t think you should be driving with your vision messed up, anyway.”
He’d forgotten he’d left his car. There was no time to go across town to get it and still meet Polly by two. And she was very unforgiving of people who made her wait.
“I can have a car pick me up.”
“Lucien, I’m right here with a car right now. What’s the big deal? I can wait in the parking lot while you meet your client.”
If he made this an even bigger deal, she was going to get suspicious. “You promise you’ll stay in the car? It shouldn’t take long.” He crossed his fingers behind his back, praying to whatever forces controlled the universe that Polly wasn’t going to want something he couldn’t give her with Theia waiting outside.
* * *
Lucien was moving like an old man, and the broken bone in his arm was starting to feel stiff and cold as the ectoplasmic gel Lucy had injected began to solidify. It wasn’t intended as a long-term fix.
Theia pulled into the parking lot at Polly’s, obviously curious but not asking any questions, and Lucien drew himself up straight to walk in with his usual casual aplomb. It took every ounce of control he had.
Polly’s hair was blue today, clipped up in a loose fall of sapphire curls. Seated at the bar reviewing the books, she glanced up at his entrance and let her gaze wander over him with amusement.
“Just coming from goth yoga, are we? Where’s your mat?”
“Very funny.”
“Oh, wait, I know...you left her in the car.” She glanced up at the television over the bar, tuned to a closed-circuit security camera on the parking lot.
Lucien slid onto the stool beside her with manufactured grace. “Jealousy, Pols? Aren’t you above that?”
“I wouldn’t call it jealousy. I’m just looking out for you, sweetie. I warn you about her, and the next thing I know, she’s chauffeuring you around town. In the clothes you obviously slept in. And apparently were mauled by a bear in.” Polly scrutinized him more closely, touching his puffy eye with a metallic-teal fingertip. “Took him a while to go down, did it?”
Lucien picked up the highball she was drinking and tossed it back. “He didn’t go down.”
“You’re kidding. Your fancy arrows didn’t work?”
“He was human, as it turns out.”
Polly covered her mouth, trying not to giggle—and not trying very hard. “Oh, no. Oh, Lucien.”
“Did you know?”
Polly didn’t answer right away, reaching over the bar with her ass in the air to get the bottle of bourbon and refill the glass. “How would I know? He hasn’t been in here in years. He certainly wasn’t a human then. At least not a mortal one. I guess he broke the curse.” She took a sip and smiled, savoring it in her mouth. “You asked for information on the Valkyrie. I got you a Valkyrie so you could get it straight from the horse’s mouth. I can’t help it if you didn’t ask her the right questions.”
“I’m so glad this is amusing for you.”
“Oh, come on, sweetie. I’m sorry.” Polly kissed his cheek, her lips damp with bourbon. “You really took a beating, didn’t you? And the girl? The psychic sidekick? Does she know how you got hurt?”
Lucien turned the bottle on the bar,
feigning interest in the label. “Theia isn’t psychic, as it turns out. She’s an empath.”
“Lucien.” Polly moved the bottle out of his grasp, all teasing gone. “You’re playing with fire. I’m the one who picked you up out of your own vomit when you couldn’t stand to stay sober long enough to have an emotion. She’ll end up knowing everything about you. Things you don’t even know. That self-loathing that eats away at you that you manage to project as cockiness and arrogance, the fear that made you run away from Edgar and his ice-in-his-veins ideas about family and duty straight into my bed.” Polly smiled sadly and lifted his chin. “Your Maggie May. All of that is going to be laid bare to her. You might as well be walking around without skin, waiting for her throw salt on your raw flesh.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that.”
“Don’t you?” Polly turned his chin toward her and shook her head. “Poor baby. I wish I could give you immortality, make you immune to human weaknesses like love.”
“You know I don’t want to be inhuman.”
“Oh, I know that, sweetie. Which is what makes your path so much harder. Be careful, sweet boy. She’ll break your heart.”
“I didn’t come here for a lecture. I came to thank you for the information you facilitated—as unfortunately inaccurate as it turned out to be. You wanted me to meet you here, and I’m here. So what do you want?”
Polly turned her wrist, the jewels in her charm bracelet catching the light. “I was going to ask for a drop of blood.” She fingered a garnet teardrop. “But just look at you.” She shook her head and sighed. “Considering what’s waiting for you outside, I suppose I’d better have what you gave her.”