“Could you do it?”
I glared at his chest, curling my lip. He was serious, treating me as an equal, a colleague. It was quite a drop down for most vampires. From the sneer on Joe’s face, it was obvious he didn’t consider me an equal, and he was so far from the top of the heap, he’d never set eyes on it.
I flexed my fingers and pretended to be thinking. I wanted Patrick to worry, to sweat it out, to maybe feel a fraction of the fear that I was living with.
“Well?”
I sighed. Even if he believed I could spell him, he’d still be the stronger, always. Much as I didn’t like admitting it, him treating me as an equal was classy, because we were not equals and never would be. “No, I don’t think I can spell you.” I pushed away from the side of the house before my legs cramped from holding a half fighting position. “The only spells off the top of my head that would be effective on you—or any vamp—are blood spells. I don’t do those. In any case, as I’m sure you’re aware, those aren’t true spells, they are compulsions.”
He gave a curt nod. “And their effectiveness is limited.”
“Somewhat. The spell, were it strong enough, would probably be effective on you, but wouldn’t function as well as if you were human. I don’t think you’d be as compelled to follow orders because your other instincts aren’t the same. I doubt such a spell could compel you to kill. It might force you to answer a call, but not much beyond that.”
“Into the daylight?” Joe asked worriedly, chewing on very chapped lips.
“Your instinct against daylight should win out. It could depend upon your internal strength, maybe how long you’ve been alive—er, I mean, uh, dead.”
Patrick allowed a small grin of controlled amusement over my discomfort. “But we’d have to keep answering such a call.”
“You’d keep feeling the compulsion, but I don’t know if you’d actually be compelled to answer. Some vamps might find it easier to just align themselves and do the bidding of the blood spell than to fight the compulsion, but to actually spell complete compulsions—say to steal something and bring it back, those are difficult to maintain even on a live human.” I paused. “Not impossible though.”
“And so it might also be possible on a vampire?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but you’d have to hide the spell behind a natural compulsion. With a vamp, if I wanted him to kill someone, for example, I’d create a spell that was an irresistible compulsion to drink the blood of a certain person and hope nature took its course before the compulsion spell ran out.”
Joe gurgled his appreciation. “I bet I’d be good at blood spells.” His crafty eyes traveled me up and down as if I were a tasty snack. “They sound delicious.”
Patrick’s form wavered just the tiniest bit, the monster closer to the surface. “She’s talking about you being spelled, idiot, not you being capable of spelling anything!”
I swallowed my own retort. Joe might be the weakest vamp on the planet, but he could probably still take me down one-handed. His attitude made me want to shout blessings at him in a string of curses that would cure him, but good. Instead, I said, “Keep in mind that even using natural inclinations, that kind of spell doesn’t work on all humans. They have to be extremely vulnerable to begin with, and without proper maintenance the spell would fail. Look, this is really not my area of expertise. Humans break free of that kind of spell all the time—or some of them flat out die from the fight.”
Joe whined, “You keep saying humans, like we’re not human.”
Patrick and I both snorted.
Patrick then spread his hand in an eloquent apology. “A lot of things seem to have gone wrong on this one.”
Joe sniffled. “Nothing I can’t live with. I’m already better than I was before.”
I really wanted them gone. To hurry the process, I gave Patrick what he came for, at least my best quick guess. “A curse can cross the lines to the dead. There’s no natural protection even for a vamp. If it was a curse when you were alive that you carried over, it might lose some of its power crossing over, but death could actually strengthen it. Curses are strange things. They,” I hesitated, but couldn’t think of a better way to put it. “They have a life of their own.”
“Can you get rid of it?”
My mind stopped. Gears whirled and thoughts moved, but nothing came out. “Wow. I don’t think so.”
“Can you try?”
“You don’t understand,” I said, to which Patrick nodded.
“That’s the whole point of us coming here.”
“A curse is…” I shrugged, holding out empty hands. “Getting rid of one that has crossed life boundaries…”
“Why?” Patrick put one foot on the porch step. I wanted to hold my ground, but it took a lot out of me and must have shown on my face. He stepped back, clenching his hands into fists. “Why is it so difficult? Explain!”
“I don’t even know for sure that it is a curse!” I yelled. “I told you, I’m not about to touch his aura or even examine it from afar. But, well,” I spun my new silver bracelet for reassurance while trying to sort through the curses I had dismantled before. “They’re almost…a…they’re like a spirit. They’re sort of alive.”
Patrick didn’t like that answer. He swore, grabbed Joe’s flabby arm and stomped away. There was nothing graceful about it. Joe stumbled twice.
“Think about it,” Patrick said without facing me again. “Find a way around it. There must be one.”
“Knowing too much about your weaknesses could get me killed, and we both know it.”
The shadows shifted and when they were still, the vamps were gone.
I locked the door and stomped down the steps defiantly, but it was all bravado. I was halfway to my car when the next voice rippled out from other side of my house. I had the clasp undone on my new bracelet and was ready to throw silver before I realized it was Lynx.
“I want to buy your house.” He must have waited in the shadows until he was certain the vamps were gone before speaking.
My breath was already gone, having fled in fear. His audacious suggestion had me sucking in air and spurting it out in a single horrified gasp. “What?!?”
“It’s no good to you. You can’t live in it with Patrick stopping by with his problems. You’ve moved in with White Feather. You don’t need it.”
I blinked rapidly as he sauntered over to my car, stopping at the outer edge of the porch light. “I don’t want to sell my house.” I’d never imagined selling my house. It was mine.
Lynx nodded. “Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t be too happy about it. I been doing some research. Patrick could undo the welcome thing if he wanted, but did he do that? No. So you gotta sell it. Why not sell it to me?” His head was cocked in the way that meant he was listening for more than my answer. Lynx had always wanted a house. No, he’d always wanted a home. And if he had ever had a home, it’s possible my house was the closest he’d ever come to it.
“If you sold it back to me, could he get in then?” I asked.
Lynx took the question seriously. “He’d be locked out if it was really mine before I sold it back.” He gave me his cat smile. “But who says I’d want to sell it back to you?”
I frowned. “You’re right. I can’t symbolically give it to someone and have them give it back. I have to really move out. I have to...leave.” And that was a sticking point. I gazed at the stucco exterior. I wouldn’t be able to show up and walk in. It would be his, not mine. I’d have to remove the protections meant for me and me alone. Well, maybe not. Leaving them wouldn’t actually hurt anything, but he was right. I had to sell it, not just move out thinking I could always come back someday.
Considering such an idea was ludicrous. I snatched the client spells out of my backpack and handed them over to him for delivery. I offered him a ride, but refused to discuss his stupid offer any further.
Chapter 14
By the time I pulled up to White Feather’s, it was full dark. I could sense faint echoes
of silver inside the house. They were so obvious, how had I ever missed them?
Standing on the walkway, I reached for the silver in White Feather’s ring.
He was in the new lab area behind the kitchen. But how did I know that? Was it just my subconscious guessing the distance? Or was I completely off-base?
There was other silver in the house; some in the bedroom, at least two loop bracelets in the bathroom...hmm. The bracelet location was somewhat obvious because I’d left the bracelets there. Still, each bit of silver came with a sense of place that was more solid than the memory of where I’d left things.
White Feather must have heard me drive up. Or he sensed me with his wind the way I sensed he was walking closer through the silver in his ring. I laughed, hurrying to the door right as he opened it.
I threw my arms around his neck.
“Hey, I’m all dirty! I’ve been working all day and haven’t showered yet!”
I loved the feel of him, so much stronger than me, all hard angles and muscles that touched me everywhere along the length of him. “Okay,” I said and kissed him anyway.
“Mmm. Are you going to greet me like this every time you get home?” He backed inside, dragging me with him.
“Maybe. Wait until I tell you what I spelled today!” I followed him in, excited to have someone to share with. Mostly, I kept my advancements to myself; we witches were a secretive lot, but with White Feather it didn’t matter. He wasn’t competition.
I spilled out the quick rundown of my day, showing him the bracelet. I considered skimming over the vamp visit. Patrick was no more of a threat than usual except that my own house was no longer safe. Still, I wanted to discuss the weird vamp with White Feather. He might have different insights than me.
White Feather shut his eyes when I said, “Patrick stopped by, stayed politely outside and introduced me to a vamp who needed a curse removed. I told him to take his business elsewhere.”
There was a breeze across my face, a subtle and instinctive check. “Two vamps stopped by.”
“Not exactly.” I described Joe in gory detail. “Ugliest vampire I’ve ever seen. Weirdest too.”
“One healthy vamp and one with a bad case of baldness and heavy drinking. That had to make things perfectly safe.”
“Yeah. Possibly. Probably not.” White Feather apparently hadn’t met any such vampires before either. “Never mind. Watch what I learned to do today.” I extracted one bead from the bracelet and pushed it across the kitchen bar.
In my enthusiasm and due to lack of practice, I overestimated. The bead snapped across the room, hit the fridge and landed in the sink with a loud ding. Like a ball in a pinball machine, it spun along the sides before dropping into the disposal. “Whoops.”
He raised an eyebrow at my feat. “That was impressive. Useful too if we can enter you in a pachinko tournament that uses silver balls.”
“I can get it back. But I better stand closer.”
He almost smiled. “The house isn’t even put together yet. You better watch out for the windows with that trick.”
“It’s not perfect. But it works!”
He headed to the sink, retrieved my silver the old fashioned way and then washed the worst of the dust and dirt off his hands and arms. “You’re okay?”
I sighed. “I don’t like him showing up, but I’m fine. He’s no more of a threat now than he ever was.”
“He’s not on my list of favorite visitors.” He reached for the towel and changed the subject. “Tracy and I made unbelievable progress. Go check out your lab.”
“Okay.” I scooted down the hall, happy to put the conversation behind us. I knew I should have been more careful. Then again, it wasn’t as though I’d entered my own home after Patrick had time to hide there. If he wanted to attack me at night, all he had to do was wait until I was out past dark.
Lynx claimed there was a way to reverse the invite. That didn’t mean Patrick would allow it, but I’d still research it.
In the room that would become my new lab, not one, but two walls were up. Tracy was nowhere to be found. “You’re using limestone for the walls?”
“There’s an adobe layer on the outside wall, but this inner one is limestone butting up against the kitchen wall. Tracy is some kind of earth carver. I ordered in the limestone to use as a wall in my lab out back, but he started using it in here. And in a few short hours, he had two walls up.”
“Earth carver.” I frowned. “Dad said something about an earth affinity, but he didn’t know what it was. Did you ask Tracy?”
“I mentioned he built walls quickly. He never said a word, but the stones kept flying. The adobe was the same way. He set the bricks as straight as though he’d carved them from a single rock.”
I walked over and touched the wall. Solid. Humming. “It’s happy.”
“Happy?”
“It’s all in alignment as if...there’s mortar here, but it’s all one piece. I suppose it could be because it all came from the same quarry. Whatever he did, it’s positively a work of art.”
“He was amazing to watch, I can tell you that.”
I traced my fingers along the limestone. “I bet I can learn a thing or two from him.”
“When you’re not off figuring out how to shoot silver? Maybe we should use plexiglass in the windows in here.”
I grinned. “Progress is progress. Have you eaten yet?” I checked my watch. “We better make sure Tracy eats before Dad shows up, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Tracy’s in the shower. If you warm up the food Mom sent home with us, I’ll take my shower, and then we can eat.”
White Feather’s mom had sent us home with enough food for three days—until Tracy got a whiff of it. He ate more than Lynx on his hungriest days. The magic must have drained a lot out of him because he polished off half of a loaf of bread, all of the casserole, with the exception of the two pieces White Feather and I ate, and four glasses of milk.
A trip to the grocery store was in my very near future.
Chapter 15
First thing next morning, I hurried over to visit Mat. Surely by now she’d be ready to talk.
Her shop door was locked tight again, but this time there was a “Back in Fifteen” sign, one she displayed often. I frowned. Jim, aka Gordon, could be in there. If that was the case, I didn’t want to be the next visitor.
As I turned away, there was a very loud clank from within the store. Before I could imagine what caused the noise, the sound of something else heavy and fragile shattered against the tile floor.
Not good. There were a lot of spells in there and any physical fight—or magical fight—would be a disaster. Been there, done that, and the results hadn’t been pretty. Somewhere out there was a guy who still had petunias growing out of his arm as a result of mixed spells firing all at once.
I leaned in close to the door, struggling to peer inside. Not even shadows shifted within, but at least one deep voice or...was that a growl? Jim didn’t growl, did he? And he wouldn’t hurt her, right?
Sound didn’t carry well enough through the glass, but it wasn’t Mat making that noise. The high-pitched scream, however, was probably her. It rattled the windows and maybe even damaged the casing.
“Moonlight madness.” It definitely wasn’t in my best interest to visit, but I wasn’t about to stroll away and hope for the best either. “Can’t call the cops. He’s probably already in there.” For the second time in as many days, I ran for the alleyway. I didn’t hide my tracks this time.
If the noise turned out to be a domestic dispute, I’d...well, Aztec Curses. If I weren’t married to his brother, there would be no question. Between the two of us, we’d blast Jim into the next century. Of course, White Feather hadn’t said I couldn’t take action. He just said I had to leave Jim alive. There was a lot of room between alive and not alive.
I skidded around the corner, yelling to announce my entrance. “Mat? You okay in there?” My attention was on the open door, but I
sidled close to the side of the building. I very nearly tripped over a pile of clothes strewn along the outside of the building.
Two more steps and Mat let out another screech. “Ruuuun—” Her voice cut off on a strangled gurgle.
“Mat!”
Reaching the door only made everything worse.
A coyote, shaggy blond and browns, larger and better fed than any wild animal, snapped wicked teeth in my direction. The beast was no better groomed than his wild cousins, and this one obviously had a lot less sense. No sane coyote would venture this far into town and attack two people.
“Zandy!” I cursed.
Saliva dripped as the coyote swung back around in time to dodge a piece of a broken chair aimed at his head. Jim jabbed with the chair leg again and then again. He was hunched against the living room wall with Matilda smashed partially behind him. The floor was wet, and the reek of sewage made me gag.
“You misbegotten mutt of an Aztec Curse!” I yelled.
Zandy turned his back on Jim to face me without a worry. From the lack of a real weapon in Jim’s grip, Zandy’s confidence was understandable. Zandy was dangerous enough as a coyote, and that was before his blood had been tainted with concoctions that, if he bit one of us, might make us wish we were dead.
I plucked a silver bead from my bracelet. Zandy snarled low and bunched to jump. No time for precision. I yanked the clasp of my new bracelet and pushed the silver hard. All of it.
“Choke and die!” I screamed.
The silver balls flew through the air. Several hit, singeing his fur. Sadly, the little missiles didn’t stick. The welts may have hurt, but the silver bounced off Zandy as fast as they hit him.
The distraction of my attack allowed Jim to lean in and beat at Zandy. “Bastard!” The series of threats that followed were possibly more dangerous than the chair leg.
I called the rolling, ricocheting silver balls, spinning them relentlessly at the coyote.
Jim kept up his end of the attack until he suddenly stumbled and fell to his knees. He gave a hacking gasp and gagged.
Under Witch Curse (Moon Shadow Series) Page 8