Midnight Curse (Disrupted Magic Book 1)

by Melissa F. Olson

  Most of Dashiell’s daytime security people were typical employees—well paid, competent, insured employees, but typical nonetheless. The Haynes were different. They were human, but their family had hundreds of years of service to Dashiell. Theodore Hayne was also Kirsten’s ex-husband, and when Jesse had met him years earlier, it had been obvious that he still cared for her. The Haynes were fully invested in keeping the LA Old World intact.

  Then a new thought occurred to Jesse. “I know you trust their loyalty, but could the Haynes be pressed?” he asked.

  Scarlett shook her head. “Hayne was pressed once, years ago. Since then, Kirsten keeps them both in regular witch bags. They’re clean.”

  Jesse nodded. In the past he had used one of the little charm bags that the witches created to protect humans from being affected by magic. The witch bags that protected against vampires couldn’t prevent the human from being drained of blood, but it could protect them from being pressed—or turned into a vampire. “Okay. Noon.”

  “I need to get back to the mansion,” Dashiell said, checking his watch. “I’ve already been away too long. Oh.” He stepped toward Jesse, pulling out his wallet. “You may have to buy supplies or gas,” he said, and held out a small plastic rectangle. A credit card.

  Surprised, Jesse took the card, a teal-blue Visa. “Anything you need,” the vampire intoned. “I’m not planning to ask for receipts.”

  There was no name printed on the card, just a number. “What if someone asks for my ID?” Jesse asked.

  Dashiell gave him a broad smile, like he’d told a very funny joke. “Trust me, it’s not going to happen.”

  “Don’t forget,” Kirsten reminded Scarlett, “you need to be at the Trials by six.”

  “I can push Molly’s trial to the second night,” Dashiell added, “but no further. You need to catch these people before then.”

  Jesse could see Scarlett clenching her jaw, but she nodded. Dashiell hesitated for a heartbeat, and then added, “Above all, we need to look united. Everyone is watching us to see how the Trials unfold. If we cannot catch these people before Molly’s sentencing, Scarlett will still need to sit at the table.”

  Jesse glanced at Scarlett, who was giving him an incredulous look. Before she could do more than open her mouth, Dashiell raised a hand, his face grave. “Yes. Per your usual responsibilities, you’ll be there as we execute her.”

  Chapter 13

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  At my tone, Shadow lifted her head and looked suspiciously around the room, trying to figure out who may have wronged me. I reached down with one hand and patted her back. Dashiell just looked at me with an infuriatingly implacable expression. Why was I so surprised? Wasn’t this just classic Dashiell? In fact, years earlier we’d even been in this same position, only I was the one with my head on the chopping block if I couldn’t figure out who’d killed three vampires in La Brea Park. I glanced at Will and Kirsten, but they were avoiding my eyes, which stung all over again. For some naive, stupid reason, I had thought we’d made progress.

  Apparently some things about the Old World never change. And it made me feel like a helpless little girl . . . which was my cue to say something smartass enough to get in trouble.

  “You—” I began, but Jesse grabbed my elbow and began propelling me toward the doorway.

  “Forget it, Scar,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s Chinatown.”

  I allowed him to pull me out into the parking lot, with Shadow trotting happily along behind us. Whenever I was in a room with the Old World leaders, Shadow’s demeanor was more like a Secret Service agent than anything else. She was always glad to get away from the tension.

  As soon as we were through the outer door, I shook free and rounded on Jesse. “Okay, first of all, good movie reference, and second, aren’t you the guy who was just upset about Old World tactics?” I demanded. “They’re going to kill her, Jesse!”

  “No, they’re not,” he said, shooting me a devilish grin. “Because we’re going to find these assholes first.”

  “Jesse—”

  “I know,” he interrupted. “But you’re not going to talk Dashiell out of his plan tonight. The more information we find, the better your case will be if it does come down to an argument. Okay?”

  I pushed out a breath of frustration and nodded at him. “Okay, fine. What do we do first?”

  “Sleep,” he said firmly. “Go home and get a few hours.”

  I blinked. I was already exhausted, but it wasn’t like we had time to burn. “Why not start now?”

  “Because I think you’re right. Molly is the key to understanding this whole thing.” He dug into his pocket for a moment and held up a small, shiny object. The safety deposit box key. “Maybe literally.”

  I groaned at the cheesy pun, but my spirits lifted a little. He could be right, and whatever was in that box could help us. “I thought about that, but are we going to be able to get in?” I asked. “I thought safety deposit boxes required like ID and a blood sample and a picture of yourself in a raincoat juggling avocados.”

  “Your comprehension of the modern banking system is impressive,” Jesse said solemnly. “But didn’t you once tell me that vampires change identities a lot?”

  “Yeah . . .”

  “So they must have special rules for vampire clients. Maybe you only need a name or an account number or something.”

  I tilted my head for a second, considering. “I can text Dashiell and ask him. If he doesn’t know personally, maybe he could sneak down and ask Molly.”

  Jesse nodded. “Cool. What time is sunrise?”

  Oh, right. We needed to go back after stupid Frederic had left for the night. “Uh, seven. Well, six fifty-eight.” In my line of business, it was important to know. I checked my watch. “But it’s almost three thirty already, Jesse. By the time I drive home to Marina del Rey and back to Thousand Oaks . . .”

  “Good point.” He tilted his head for a second, considering. Then a slow smile spread over his face. “Okay, new plan.” He held up the teal credit card Dashiell had given him. “We’ll get rooms, grab four hours of sleep, and leave here at seven thirty.”

  “We’ll hit rush hour,” I protested, but I was weakening. My arm hurt, and the prospect of getting some sleep was tempting as hell.

  “We can take the carpool lanes,” Jesse wheedled. “Come on. We’re not going to be any good to Molly without at least a little sleep.”

  I allowed him to pull me back toward the front desk to wake up the concierge. Even though we both knew there were no carpool lanes on the 101.

  To the surprise of no one, the hotel still had rooms available. I texted Dashiell—I probably could have caught him in the parking lot, but I figured we needed a little break from each other—and arranged for him and Beatrice to go to Jesse’s apartment, get my van, and take it back to my place. Ordinarily Dashiell would have lackeys to do this kind of thing, but we weren’t sure who we could trust. I thought he was also trying to prove to Jesse, especially, that he wanted to be cooperative. I suspected the whole “boundary witch running amok in LA” thing had freaked him out a little. I couldn’t deny taking a little satisfaction from making him jump through hoops for me this time.

  Dashiell even promised to bring my duffel bag back to the hotel and leave it at the front desk. In addition to supplies for a variety of crime scenes, the bag had a change of clothes and some deodorant in one of the side pockets. I felt vulnerable without the White Whale, but since it could be tracked by Dashiell’s security team, it would be better to use Jesse’s sedan.

  The room was cheap and a little threadbare, but it seemed clean enough. Shadow did her customary security check, and when she was satisfied, I pulled back the bedspread and collapsed on top of the sheets. This was a mistake, because I bumped my stitches. I hissed with pain and squirmed around, trying to find a comfortable position. Eventually I realized that my problem wasn’t my achy body so much as my humming brain. I looked at
Shadow, who was sitting neatly on the floor next to the bed, watching me. She would wait until it looked like I was drifting off, and then go sleep with her back against the door.

  “I should just call him, huh?” I said to the bargest. She tilted her head at me, looking more pensive than confused. She glanced at the bed, then back at me, as if to say you won’t be able to sleep until you do. Sometimes Shadow’s sentience unnerves me a little.

  I sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” Sometimes you just have to go through with the fight ahead of you.

  I dialed Eli’s cell phone. “Scarlett?” he said immediately.

  I blinked. His caller ID wouldn’t have recognized the number. “Hi, sorry. Did I wake you?”

  “I was waiting up. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Well, I got a cut on my arm, but I’m fine.” I felt a stab of guilt for not calling him earlier, then remembered my reasons. “You told Will about my job tonight.”

  A pause. “Yeah, I did.”

  I made sure my voice was very calm. “Why?”

  “Because he’s my alpha.” There was genuine surprise in his voice. “And because the circumstances were weird, and I was worried about you. Besides, it’s not like you warned me not to tell anyone.”

  Because then you would have known it was a big deal, and been in a really awkward position, and ended up telling him anyway. I didn’t say it. There was no point.

  There was a long pause, and then Eli said angrily, “Is that why you haven’t called me? You’re punishing me because you think I tattled on you?”

  “You’re supposed to be on my side,” I said, sounding stubborn even to myself. “You should have trusted me to handle it.”

  “And what if you couldn’t?” he countered. “Admit it, Scar, you’ve got a track record of getting in over your head. How many times have you risked your life without a thought to your safety?”

  I felt my jaw clench. Oh look, familiar territory. “My safety is fine. I can take care of myself.”

  “With what? A couple of knives?” Real anguish was in his voice now. “Have you ever considered how hard it is for me to watch you dive into these jobs, knowing you’re so goddamned vulnerable? I can get hit by a subway train and walk away, Scarlett.”

  “Maybe if it was going really slow. And you’d need recovery time.”

  He sighed into the phone. “Stop deflecting. My point is that you’re just out there, and null or not, you are infinitely breakable. Calling Will was my best way to make sure you were okay. That you didn’t need my protection.”

  “I never asked for your protection,” I said softly.

  We always ended up back here, at this same old impasse. There was a long moment of silence, both of us aware that we were stuck. I was never going to stop fighting for independence, and Eli was never going to stop wanting to protect me. For a moment I felt a wave of despair. How could we ever make this thing work? We loved each other, but what if we were just wired wrong for a relationship?

  “This is my job, Eli,” I tried again. “This is part of who I am.”

  “Cleaning up crime scenes is your job,” Eli corrected. “Keeping secrets, charging into dangerous situations, putting yourself in harm’s way—that’s just shit you do. I thought you finally grew out of this adrenaline junkie bullshit, but here we are again.”

  “That’s not fair,” I protested. “I’m not an adrenaline junkie, and I can’t control when crises come up in the Old World.”

  “Maybe not. But you can control when you ask for help. Or when you let your boyfriend know you’re okay.”

  I wanted to smack my head against the plywood-looking nightstand. How had this turned around on me so quickly? “This was a unique situation, Eli. Molly’s in trouble.”

  Another long pause. “Is she okay?”

  “No. Not yet, anyway. But I can’t tell you anything else on the phone.”

  He took that in stride. Every Old World faction has been drilled on keeping important matters off telephone conversations. “When will you be home?”

  “Not tonight. I’m crashing in a hotel so I can look into something with Jesse in the morning. It didn’t make sense to drive all the way back.”

  “You’re . . . staying in a hotel with Jesse Cruz?” He sounded more surprised than outraged, and I couldn’t really blame him. Eli had never asked me to stop seeing Jesse, and if we’d been able to make a friendship work, Eli would have dealt with that. But he knew Jesse and I hadn’t spoken in years, and that had been a relief to him.

  “We have separate rooms, of course. Look, I promise I’ll explain everything tomorrow.”

  “When tomorrow? I have the day shift at the bar.”

  Right. Like everyone else in the Old World, Eli was taking off work the following night for the Vampire Trials. It was the only time that Hair of the Dog would be staffed entirely by humans. “Find me before the first trial starts,” I told him.

  He wasn’t happy that I couldn’t promise to see him before then, but I knew he’d forgive me when he heard about my deadline for helping Molly. We talked for a few more minutes about Eli’s shift at the bar and the new chunk of driftwood he’d found for his sculpture work. It was late and we were both exhausted, but I think we needed to reassure ourselves that there was still normalcy between us, and we could get back there again. I drifted off with the phone still pressed to my ear.

  Chapter 14

  When I dragged myself out of the hotel bed at seven the next morning, there was a mark on my cheek from sleeping on the cell phone. My arm hurt, but when I tried moving it around, it already felt better than the night before. When I lifted the bandage on my chest, the small shrapnel wound had scabbed over. I left the bandage off, which made me feel a lot closer to normal.

  Still wearing the clothes that Jesse had brought to the hospital, I took Shadow for a one-mile jog so she could do her business. Outside, the LA morning was cool, gray, and hazy—either very smoggy, very overcast, or some combination of the two. I retrieved my duffel bag from the front desk, took a quick shower, and dressed in the clothes from my bag and the new jacket. Shadow and I made it back down to the lobby by 7:40.

  Jesse was already waiting, still in the rumpled clothes from the night before. He’d at least showered and shaved, which looked good on him. He wasn’t alone, though; I recognized the slightly taller, slightly paler, not quite so handsome man next to him as his brother, Noah. A reusable Whole Foods bag was planted between their feet. There was some kind of black material peeking out.

  “You’re late,” Jesse said neutrally.

  I pointed to Shadow. “If she doesn’t run for at least a mile every morning, she paces. For hours.”

  “You went running in those boots?”

  I raised an eyebrow, glancing down at my knee-high leather Fryes. “Cupcake, I could pirouette in these boots.” I turned to Noah and held out my hand. “Hey, Noah, good to see you again.” Noah returned the handshake, though his expression didn’t warm. “What brings you here?”

  “Errand boy,” Noah said. He glanced at Jesse, half-amused, half-annoyed, and nudged the bag at his feet. “My ugly brother asked me to bring you guys your bulletproof vests. Because I have nothing better to do with my time.”

  “You’re on hiatus,” Jesse pointed out. Noah was a stunt double, though I had no idea what show he was working on these days. “You were available.”

  I blinked, trying not to look as surprised as I felt. I’d forgotten about the bulletproof vest, which Jesse had made me wear on our last case together, or maybe the one before it. It was itchy and uncomfortable, but since I’d already been shot at once, I couldn’t exactly say we wouldn’t need them.

  “Are you really not going to tell me why you want these?” Noah asked him.

  “I told you, it’s for paintball,” Jesse answered. “Scarlett and I are big sissies about getting hit by those pellets.”

  I tried to make my face look very serious as I nodded, but Noah obviously didn’t buy it.

  “Uh-huh
. Well, I guess I should just be grateful that you’re out in the world.” He turned to me and pretended to tip an imaginary hat. “That looks heavy,” he said, pointing at my own bag. “Can I help you carry it?”

  “Thanks, I got it.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Noah said emphatically, and I got the impression that he really wanted to talk to me alone. Shit. I decided to get it over with. I held out my plastic room key to Jesse. “You mind turning these in for us? And maybe asking the concierge if there’s a place around here with good donuts?”

  Jesse rolled his eyes, but he took the card and handed me his car keys. He trotted toward the front desk, and the rest of us headed outside.

  The advantage to knowing we were going to leave so early was that Jesse had been able to park his car in one of those metered parking spots that expire at 8 a.m. It was right in front of the building next door to the hotel, a real estate agency with a little decorative picket fence that had been painted with graffiti. Noah didn’t speak as we made our way to the sedan, and I opened the back door so Shadow could jump up.

  Noah watched the bargest move, shaking his head a little. “I forgot how big she is. And how . . . visually eccentric.”

  “She is that,” I agreed, setting my duffel bag onto the seat beside her.

  “Look, Scarlett,” Noah began. Yep. He wanted to lecture me. “I really am grateful that you got Jesse to leave the house. And shave.”

  I took the reusable shopping bag from him and placed it on the car’s floor, in front of my duffel bag. “But?” I prompted.

  “But I would appreciate if you didn’t fuck him over again,” he said evenly.

  I blinked. Okay, I’d expected some sort of warning, but not that. “Come again?”

  He waved a hand. “You know what I mean.”