Caitlin wasn't sure how to react. This was a side of Michael she hadn't seen before. She'd seen him fight, she'd seen him kill, but she'd never seen him ... enjoy the idea.
"Where's Evan?" Michael asked.
"He's with Alexis. They're kind of ... occupied."
***
The girl was too thin. Angelica knew that trends came and went, but she hoped that the whole heroin-chic thing would hurry up and go away. You could count the girl's ribs, for God's sake. There wasn't even enough flesh to sink your teeth into.
But she was energetic. Both she and the boy were covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and both of them were out of breath. Angelica appreciated their enthusiasm.
After they had cuddled a while, the girl lifted her head from the boy's chest. "I should probably go," she said.
"What's wrong?" The boy got up on one elbow to look down at the girl.
"Nothing," she said, smiling at him. "But I have an eight AM tomorrow, and I really need to stop not going to those."
"So spend the night. It's not like your stuff is far away."
"I'd love to," the girl said, "but we both know that if I stay, we will be getting the exact opposite of sleep."
The boy smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"I always am." The girl pecked him on the cheek. The boy pulled her close, and kissed her fully.
Angelica felt like tapping her foot.
Finally, they separated. The boy stared at the girl while she dressed, a silly grin on his face. But Angelica just couldn't get over how skinny she was.
"See you tomorrow, Evan," the girl said from the door.
"Goodnight, Alexis."
The door closed, and the boy rolled over to blow out the candle burning on the nightstand.
"I think having an open flame is against the rules," Angelica said.
"Holy shit!" the boy yelled, and jumped to his feet. "Who the hell are you? How the hell did you get in here?"
Angelica looked him up and down, and ran her tongue over her lips. "Damn." She looked up at his face. "You're on the football team, aren't you? I thought you were familiar." She looked back down, and bit her lip. "I might become a fan."
The boy—Evan, his name was—grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around himself.
"Aww," Angelica pouted.
Evan started walking toward her. "Listen, lady, I don't know who the hell you are, but—"
Angelica sighed. These muscley boys were fun to look at, but they were never very bright. She looked into his eyes and reached for his mind. It was almost embarrassingly easy to find the core of his self and grab hold of it, and once she had done that, it was a triviality to replace his thoughts and ideas with her own.
The boy stopped in his tracks. The expression slipped off his face, and his hands fell to his sides. And the sheet fell to the floor.
"Much better, Angelica said. "Now, you're friends with Caitlin, right?"
"That's right," the boy said mechanically.
"And you've met Michael?"
"Yeah. He's going to help us kill Liam."
Angelica's eyebrow shot toward the ceiling. "Really? I didn't think he had it in him. Actually, I'm certain that he doesn't have it in him. Is there some kind of a plan here, or is this just the 'commit suicide' kind of mission?"
"We have a plan. Kind of."
"And that plan is ...?" Angelica prompted.
"Fire. We're going to burn him with fire, and then Michael is going to cut his head off."
"Well, you're certainly master strategists," Angelica said. She walked around him—admiring his back side on the way—and sat at his desk. She crossed her legs primly. "I hate to break this to you, but we aren't as flammable as the movies make us seem. We'll burn, sure, but no faster than you. So unless you have a flamethrower ..."
"We have magic."
Angelica cocked her head. "Really? Where the hell do you people come from? I haven't met a mage in ... God, it must be three hundred years, and now I've had two of them in my city in the last year. Is the college offering classes or something?"
"No. Michael gave me a book."
"Ah," Angelica said. "The little witch we ran off must have left her grimoire behind. Do you have it here?"
"It's right there," the boy said, pointing toward an old leather book.
Angelica started flipping through pages. She read for half an hour, occasionally glancing up at the boy standing in front of her. He really was nicely shaped. Finally, she found what she was looking for.
"Here," she said, handing him the book. "This is the spell you want to use. It won't kill him, but it will slow him down enough to give Michael an opening."
"It won't work," the boy said, still in a monotone. "I'm not strong enough."
Angelica smiled. "Oh, is that right?" She stood and pressed up against him, running her fingers up the sides of his legs, across his stomach, and over his chest. "I think I can help you with that."
She extended as single talon, and traced a line across her breast. Blood started to run down her skin. She pushed the boy down onto the bed, and climbed on top of him. "Drink," she said.
Angelica closed her eyes and savored the feeling. A warm body beneath you, the racing of his heart, the hunger as he drew life out from you. It was intoxicating. Having someone drink from you was almost as pleasurable as drinking from them.
Eventually, she pushed him away. She wanted the boy to be strong enough to cast the spell, but she didn't want to go and make him a vampire or anything. He was pretty, but he wasn't someone she wanted to spend the rest of forever with.
"It'll only last a few days," Angelica told him, "so you better get moving on this plan."
She walked toward the window, then stopped. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yes."
Well, of course she could. She still hadn't released his mind. "What does he see in her? Michael, and Caitlin? Why does he love her? What does she have that I don't?"
"I don't know," the boy said.
She looked down at her blood-stained skin. "Is it my chest? Are big breasts back in style again? Are my breasts too small?"
"I'm not a boob guy," the boy said.
"Well that's obvious. Your girlfriend is a stick." She opened the window and started to climb out, but stopped.
"Evan, I want you to do something for me. Can you do something for me?"
"Of course."
"Thank you, my sweet little boy. When Liam is dead, I have a little job for you ..."
Chapter Seventeen
They were in the girls' dorm. Caitlin and Alexis sat on the couch, Garret was by the television, and Michael stood in the corner. Evan sat in one of the chairs, the book of spells open in front of him. He had just finished explaining his plan.
"What do you think, Michael?" Caitlin asked.
Michael had a dark look on his face. "Yeah, that would work. If he can pull it off. Which is a damn big if."
"I can—" Evan started.
"Morgan couldn't even hold the containment spell long enough for us to take a shot at him. And this ..." he shook his head. "Blood magic is a different game."
"It's not that kind of blood magic," Evan said.
"Fantastic. So we're not directly summoning a Vile Thing from the Beyond."
"I'm getting better at this every day. I know I can pull this off. I know it."
Alexis nodded, and put her hand on his arm.
"Look, I'm glad you're excited about this, and I'm happy you've got a girl to cheer for you. But all the confidence in the world isn't going to help us if we go against Liam and blow it," Michael said.
"I'm not going to blow it," Evan said.
"Big talk."
"You want me to prove it to you?" Evan asked, an edge in his voice.
Michael's eyes hardened, and a razor-thin smile appeared on his face. "I'd love it."
"Okay," Garret said. "So we have a backup plan."
"Quick, painless suicide?" Michael asked.
"Fire," Evan said. "If the
spell doesn't work, we set the place on fire. The containment spell should hold him long enough for us to at least get away."
"Why isn't fire our first plan?" Michael asked. " Trap him, throw gas on him, and toss a match." He looked up at the ceiling, almost wistfully. "It's too bad I can't eat hot dogs anymore."
Evan shook his head. "Vampires don't burn fast enough. He'd probably survive long enough to escape the circle, and then we're back to square one."
Michael's eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?"
Evan's eyebrows scrunched up. "It ... must have been a note in Morgan's book."
"The point is," Caitlin said, "we have options. Evan is as good at this as Morgan was, as far as we can tell. Maybe better. And we've learned from the mistakes that were made the first time you tried this. And, we've got our own vampire on our side this time. So even if the spell backfires, and the fire doesn't take him out, maybe you can get in a shot with the sword while he's dealing with everything else."
Michael looked thoughtful for a moment. "Okay, you might be right."
"Sure, you believe her," Evan grumbled.
"She's prettier than you are," Michael shot back.
"Boys," Caitlin said. They both looked sullenly at the floor. Men.
"Okay," Alexis said. "So when do we do this? And where?"
"Liam's place is out," Evan said. "There's too much prep work. I don't want him walking in before we're ready."
"It can't be here," Garret said. "Something goes wrong, more people would get hurt."
"My mansion, then," Michael said. "But how are we going to get him to show up? I can't just call him up and invite him over. I might as well send a written invitation to the trap party."
Everyone was quiet for a while. "We need bait," Caitlin said.
"Well, yeah," Michael said, "but what do we have that he wants?"
Caitlin just looked at him.
"No. No way. I'm not dangling you in front of him like a worm on a hook. If he—"
"Do you have a better idea?" Caitlin asked.
"Well, no, but that doesn't make your idea a good one," Michael said.
"He's going to come for me one way or another, Michael. At least this way, it's on our terms."
Michael glowered, but he didn't try to argue.
"We have to be there, too," Garret said. "I want to see this through to the end."
"Me, too," Alexis said.
"I can make that work," Evan said.
"Okay," Caitlin said. "So here's what we tell Liam ..."
***
Caitlin was sitting in a chair in the corner of Michael's living room. Michael was standing by the hearth where, as usual, a fire was burning.
He took a drink—Caitlin still wasn't quite used to seeing the thick liquid slide back down the glass when he was done—and turned toward her. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked.
"It's the best idea we have, Michael. You aren't strong enough to fight him. And I can't just run. I won't leave my friends here. I won't let him hurt them because he can't get to me. The best thing we can do is make peace with him."
"Well, you're finally coming to your senses."
They turned. Liam was standing in the door, leaning against the frame. He pushed himself upright and walked over to Michael, and poured himself a glass of blood from the decanter. He sniffed it, and took a cautious sip. Liam's face twisted. He spit the blood back into the glass, then threw it into the fireplace. "How do you drink this crap, man?" He looked back at Caitlin. "Especially when you have such a tasty morsel right in front of you."
Caitlin reflexively reached up and gathered her sweater around her neck.
Michael's eyes hardened, but Caitlin saw him make an effort to relax. "You get used to it," he said in an almost casual tone.
"Sure you do." Liam threw himself on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. "So, not that I don't appreciate the invitation, but what the hell am I doing here?"
"I asked him to invite you," Caitlin said.
"Really? Finally ready to trade up? Great! Let's get going then. Mikey, you can send her stuff along later."
"We realize that you aren't going to give up," Caitlin said.
"Right so far."
"And we realize that we aren't strong enough to fight you," Michael said.
"Still with you."
"So we want to make a deal," Caitlin said.
"Ahhh." Liam got to his feet. "That's where you lose me. See, I'm not much for making deals. I'm more of a 'take what I want and murder the rest' kind of guy. But honestly, this is kind of hilarious, so go ahead, wow me with your offer."
Caitlin stood up. "I love Michael," she said.
"Awww."
She kept going, as if Liam hadn't spoken. "And I want to be with him. But I realize that if I am, we're always going to be looking over our shoulder, wondering when you're going to turn up next. Or who you're going to kill.
"So here's the deal. You leave Michael alone. You don't interfere in my relationship with him. And you promise not to hurt any of my friends."
"And in return?" Liam asked.
Michael smashed his glass against the wall. "She wants us to share," he spat.
Liam looked back and forth between them. "What?"
"You share," Caitlin said. "You leave me and Michael and my friends alone, and once a month ... I'm yours. And as long as you don't hurt me, I'll do whatever you want."
Michael looked miserable, but kept silent. Liam's mouth hung open, but a smile was playing with the corners of his mouth.
"God, I knew you were whipped," Liam said, "but this is a whole new level of ballessness." He looked at Caitlin. "Do you keep them in your purse, or do you have them in a jar somewhere, or ...?"
Liam folded his arms and grabbed his chin. "Well I have to admit, your idea is intriguing. I mean, having you at my disposal, answering to my every whim ... and knowing that he'd be thinking about it, driving himself crazy wondering what depraved things I was making you do." His eyes gleamed a little. "And how much you were enjoying them. That would be priceless. There's just one problem."
Caitlin looked at Michael, who had suddenly become tense.
"I've had your blood, Caitlin," Liam said. "And I can tell when you're lying."
Liam rushed at her, fangs bared. Caitlin jumped back, and fell into her chair. Michael streaked across the room and tackled him. The sound of their bodies crashing together was like thunder.
The vampires were moving at breathtaking speed, and the action was hard to follow, but it actually looked like Michael was starting to get the upper hand. At least that's what Caitlin figured, since Michael seemed to be on top more often than not, and in the brief moments Liam was moving slowly enough, Caitlin could see that Michael had opened up numerous wounds on him.
Then Liam screamed. The vampires came back into focus. Michael's clothing was torn, but he was unharmed. Liam, on the other hand, was covered in bloody gashes, and Michael's silver dagger was lodged into in shoulder.
Liam yanked the knife free, and tossed it on the ground. "You, my friend, are dead. Angelica is just going to have to find herself a new lap dog." He rushed across the room and grabbed Michael by the throat, then threw him across the room.
Michael crashed into the wall. A crack appeared, stretching from floor to ceiling, and plaster and dust fell in a shower. Michael, though, landed in a three-point stance. His eyes were red, and his fangs were bared.
But Liam was standing between Michael and Caitlin. "Uh uh uh," he said, and backed toward her. "Move, and I'll twist her pretty little neck."
Michael stood and glared at Liam.
"I'm surprised," Liam said. "You're stronger than you were. Have you been sampling a new vintage?" He stretched his hand toward Caitlin.
Michael growled and charged Liam, but Liam turned and grabbed for Caitlin ...
And stopped, two feet short of her.
He reached for her again, but his hand met an invisible barrier. He slashed with his claws, w
ith the same effect. There was no sound, no disturbance in the air, but his hand stopped like it had hit a brick wall.
"What the hell?" Liam said, and swatted at Caitlin again.
The air in the opposite corner of the room shimmered, and Evan, Alexis, and Garret faded into view. Alexis was clutching a silver dagger with white knuckles. Garret was holding a crossbow.
"That would be me," Evan said. He was holding up a piece of paper with one of his sigils on it, which was crumbling in his hand. He had called it a veil spell, and said it would conceal them from Liam.
Liam rolled his eyes. "Another witch? Oh come on."
A jug of water, the kind you'd plug into a water cooler, was lying at Evan's feet. He picked it up, carried it toward the center of the room, and put it on an end table near the couch. "I'm not a witch. Just a ... hobbyist."
Liam bent down and cut the rug with his talons, revealing another complicated pattern, painted on the floor. Liam pursed his lips. "This isn't going to keep me here forever, you know." He slashed at the barrier, and golden energy flickered across the sigil. "His little friend tried this once before. Didn't have the juice to keep it going."
"Oh, I know," Evan said. "It isn't supposed to keep you there forever. I just need you confined while I get this working." He held up another piece of paper, this one with a hugely complex design on it.
Liam stood up. "What the hell is that?"
"There are six quarts of blood in the human body," Evan said, "but you're big, so I brought a little extra." He patted the side of the jug. "Two and a half gallons.
"You ever been to a Catholic church, Liam? Probably, what with the whole Irish thing. You remember how Moses turned the waters of the Nile into blood? Well, I figured out how he did it. Michael?"
Michael picked up the silver dagger, still smoking with Liam's blood, and handed it to Evan. Evan smeared the blood onto the fingertips of his left hand.
"There's no such thing as free," Evan said, "Even in magic. There's always a trade. Energy, emotion, something has to be given up in exchange for what you get." He patted the jug. "Like this water here. I can't actually turn it into blood. But I can trade it for blood."
Liam held out his hand. "What are you—"
Evan laid his blood-stained hand on the sigil, and golden light rippled across it. Liam staggered, and a red cloud appeared in the jug, floating in the water.
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