by K. F. Breene
“Smokey will watch it.” I made my way up the stairs. “He’ll let me know if anyone goes after it.”
“That creepy guy is in the hospital. He ain’t watching nothin’ but the drip of the painkillers in his IV.” Mince shook his head at the dent again.
Shock ran through me. Smokey was definitely creepy, always loitering around the neighborhood and watching what went on, but he was harmless and really excited about the supernatural, something humans shouldn’t know about. Humans also shouldn’t get chased down by an aswang, an evil, soul-sucking being, because they knew me. I tended to let the weird factor slide with him. “Smokey is in the hospital? What happened?”
“Just kidney stones. Happens to the best of us. He’s got medical, though, so he’s fine.”
I took a deep breath. Mince was terrible at realizing what was newsworthy and what wasn’t. “You know, in the future, maybe you should lead with news about any attacks, B&Es, or people in the hospital before lamenting a small issue with the door of an inanimate object. It would really help me out.”
Mince looked at Darius in bewilderment. He hooked a thumb my way. “Is she for real? Small issue?” He shook his head and chuckled, focusing on Darius. “You got problems, son. I do not know what you are doing with her.”
I leveled him with a look. “Just remember—if I’m fine with denting a million-dollar car, I am more than fine denting your head with said million-dollar car.”
He took a hop-step toward the cemetery on the other side of the street, one of the more interesting views I could think of for a homeowner in New Orleans. His hands rose into the air. “Don’t get excited. We understand each other.”
I turned and let myself into my house.
“You have colorful neighbors,” Darius said, following me.
“You’ve said that before.”
“And I am surprised anew each time I’m confronted with them.”
“Cognac?” I grabbed a bottle of wine for myself. He nodded and went to my pantry, no doubt remembering my declaration of hunger. Darius cooking for me had turned into one of my favorite things.
Before I sat down at the kitchen table, a knock sounded at my door.
I frowned as Darius paused in his efforts. A moment later, his large frame was in the archway of the kitchen. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No. What’s with the rigidity? Are you expecting an attack or something?” I hopped up and ripped out my sword, uncertainty seeping through me. I didn’t think he still kept things from me that might put me in danger, but I hadn’t threaten-questioned him lately. It was anyone’s guess.
Without a word, he zipped to the front door, claws elongating from his left hand. Nothing else on his body changed, a sign of his excellent control, something that came with age for a vampire.
I took his place in the archway. “Use the peephole—” I cut off as the handle turned and the door cracked open.
Darius stepped to the side and flattened against the wall, clearly intending to use surprise to his advantage.
“She likes us to knock!” Dizzy sounded harried. “How many times does she have to tell us that?”
The breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding left my lungs in a gush.
“No, she likes strangers to knock. She doesn’t care if we just come in,” came Callie’s reply as the door swung open.
Dizzy filled the doorway, looking back at his wife. “What is your head made out of, wood? Darius’s people breaking in makes her jumpy. She wants us to knock!”
Shaking his head, Dizzy turned and took two steps into the entryway. Before I could ask what they were doing following me home—even though I had a sinking suspicion I knew—he glanced over and noticed the large shape with claws.
Dizzy had jumped, reached into his satchel, and thrown a spell before my brain could shift from Why are you here? to finding an appropriate four-letter word to yell.
Darius flinched and tried to dodge, but he was too late. The spell puffed like baby’s breath before sparkling blue and green. It was very pretty, which meant it was also potent and probably dangerous. Dizzy liked to build a false sense of security into his spells, usually by way of lovely colors or smells. The spell that shot magical acid strong enough to rot flesh looked like a fuzzy puppy before it exploded.
I was so glad he was on my side.
Darius convulsed and his fingers bent backward, cracking.
“Oh no!” Dizzy said, finally realizing who it was. “Oh no. He’s trapped in the spell. Callie, hurry!”
“What’s happen— Oh! I need to find—”
I didn’t wait for Callie to dig into her satchel.
Fire shot out from my fingers and covered the spell, but it had a volatile heat that immediately went to war with my fire magic. It would take finesse to keep it from exploding as it unraveled. Darius’s limbs clearly didn’t have that kind of time.
Another crack filled the air, making my teeth grind, and I opened up and let the cold surge through me. I didn’t try for it, or work at it…I just surrendered to the moment. My fear for Darius ate through the rage that pulsed up with the power.
A solid wall of air wedged between Darius, and Dizzy and Callie, my subconscious clearly wanting the threat kept at bay even though logic said the dual mages weren’t an enemy. Back in control, I draped the spell that was torturing Darius with my colder magic, the effect manifesting as crystals of ice, frosting over the spell and wiping out the lovely sparkly affect. Another crack sounded from Darius. Fear pumped up my adrenaline.
My fire magic swirled beneath the ice, power pumping higher than I could comfortably control in normal situations. This time I didn’t balk. I used the fire to drill down into the spell as the ice slowly ate away at it from the outside. The intricate hex unraveled, fiber by fiber, getting angry as it did so.
I pulled out the fire and pushed the ice down into the frayed spell, the effect like water freezing within the cracks. The swell of magical violence stopped immediately. When I cracked the crystals of ice encrusting the spell, the whole shebang shattered like glass, falling to the floor before melting into nothingness.
I rushed forward. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
Darius’s tightened eyes connected to mine like a lifeline. A vein in his jaw pulsed. That was the only indication of his intense pain.
“You are not having a very good day,” I said, ready to grab his fingers and bend them straight. Though gross and stomach-churning, that would make it easier for him to heal.
“I can fix that,” Callie said, knocking at the solid air in front of her. It didn’t make a sound. “Reagan, let me in and I can heal him. Mostly. I think. Worst case, I can dull the pain while you straighten his fingers.”
“Clothes,” Darius said with a heavy voice. Those last two breaks were arms. That must’ve hurt something awful. He was clearly ready to escape into his monster form to heal more quickly.
“Yeah, sure. Callie, close the door,” I said, hurrying to undo the buttons on Darius’s shirt. “Can I just rip this, or…”
“I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“Only you would rather endure horrible pain than see harm come to your designer clothes,” I mumbled.
I pushed the fabric off his shoulders and carefully down his arms. At least they were in reasonably straight lines. I quickly undid his belt and pants before pushing the fabric down his legs. Without hesitation, I hooked my thumbs into the elastic of his boxer briefs and pushed them down as well.
“Crisis aside, I do not like how comfortable you are with taking off his clothing, Reagan,” Callie said.
“Not his specifically,” I answered quickly. “Just guys in general. I study the arts of removing men’s underwear.”
“This is no time to joke, Reagan,” Dizzy said, picking at his nail. “That was a truly nasty spell. Penny worked with us on the power for that one. Normal men would’ve passed out from pain. Lesser vampires would’ve slipped into a rage and killed us all upon being freed. We shouldn’t ha
ve created it. We shouldn’t do something just because we can. But…in our defense, it was only because we were nervous about the Mages’ Guild coming for us. We—”
Clothes removed, Darius wasted no time turning into his monster form. Claws from his feet clicking on the hardwood floor, he made his way back to my room.
I grimaced on his behalf. “That guy deals with an awful lot where it concerns me. He and the warehouse are going to turn on me one of these days.” I sighed, because even if I told him to get lost (and I had), he’d stick around. And he’d keep on sticking around, I had no doubt, regardless of what came.
The surge of power within me drained away, my fire back to normal, and my ice disappearing altogether. I’d need to think on how I’d managed to summon and use the ice so readily. Although, admitting to the why of that situation would be dicey. That might call up the dreaded L-word.
I grimaced. I was in pretty deep where it concerned that vampire.
The invisible partition I’d put up had dissipated with the ice magic. I started into the kitchen, thankful that Callie and Dizzy followed me in.
“Does Penny have one of those spells?” I asked as I took down a bottle of whiskey. I hesitated. “Would you rather have wine than the whiskey?” I asked them.
“Whiskey. Two fingers. No ice.” Dizzy ran his hand over his glistening forehead. “Maybe three fingers.”
“A glass of wine for me,” Callie said.
“Penny has a few different spells that are just as powerful,” Dizzy said as he sat at the small round table in the corner of the kitchen. “Any spell she helps us with, or makes on her own, will be potent. But I trained her on the importance of safety when carrying around spells of that magnitude.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You taught her the importance of safety, did you? The same guy who just blasted an ally?”
“Let’s hope the pupil surpasses the teacher,” Callie huffed, and shook her head. I could always count on her to see the humor in dire situations.
“I didn’t expect him to be there!” Dizzy yelled. I couldn’t as easily count on his levelheadedness. “I was worried about barging into Reagan’s home, since she can be unhinged when people just waltz in. Then a larger-than-most vampire was hulking by the door, claws out and war on his face—what did you expect? You’ve dragged me along to all these battles lately. I’m jumpy.”
“Darius is jumpy, too. He was not happy about someone showing up at my door unexpected,” I said softly, feeling the uncertainty rise again. It annoyed me. I wanted to stab something because of it, but it was all my stuff. I’d have to replace it or fix it, and that was too much effort. “Do you think he knows something I don’t?”
“Reagan, how many times do you need to hear this?” Callie accepted her glass of wine with a thanks. “He will always know something you don’t. A great many things, probably. Most won’t concern you, sure. But some probably will, and you are only in the loop when he needs you for something.”
I shook my head and looked away. That wasn’t how our relationship worked anymore. We’d advanced to another level.
At least, we’d better have.
I really should’ve threaten-questioned him more recently…
Dizzy gulped down his whiskey before handing it back. “Another. With a cube of ice. I’ll sip the second one.”
“I’m driving, then?” Callie asked.
“Yes. That spell was nasty. I feel terrible. I should’ve known there wouldn’t be danger in Reagan’s house. With her in it, I mean. Poor Darius.” Dizzy shook his head.
I furnished him with the bottle.
We stopped and started a dozen trivial conversations, each of them interrupted with Dizzy asking, “Should you go check on him? You never did bend back his fingers.”
“If he needed help, he’d ask me,” I would say.
“Vampires don’t ask for help.”
“This one does. From me, at least. Trust me, Dizzy, he’ll let me know when he needs something.” I just hoped he waited to ask for that something until the dual mages were gone, because I knew it would be blood he needed.
A half-hour later, a hard rap sounded at the door. I paused with my glass of wine halfway to my mouth. Callie’s eyebrow quirked.
“I’m not usually this popular.” I frowned. Was this what Darius had been worried about?
I stood slowly and tapped the gun wrapped in a holster around my thigh.
“I admit it, you were right,” Callie murmured to Dizzy. “From now on, we’ll knock out a code and wait for her to answer the door. She’s too keyed up for a normal house call.”
“All my friends are within these walls,” I said. “And it’s too late for a door-to-door salesman, assuming any are brave enough to come around here. I can’t see this being a normal house call.”
“Then what is it?” Callie asked as she stood and opened her satchel for easy access.
Dizzy stood, too, but the quick motion caused him to sway. He braced a hand on the table. “Let’s hope it’s the salesman, because I’m not so steady.”
“I got it,” I said, stalking out of the kitchen and toward the front door. Callie followed but stopped in the archway of the kitchen.
The hard rap came again.
“A polite person would’ve rung the doorbell, not practically busted down the door with their knocking,” Callie said softly.
I had to agree. But at least they were knocking.
I pulled open the door in a fast, smooth movement, ready to draw and fire without hesitation. Shock bled through me as my fingers curled around the grip of my gun.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted.
Chapter Four
Roger, the alpha of the Northwest Region of shifters, stood on my porch with his empty hands loose at his sides. He stood a little taller than me at about five ten or so, but his bearing, and his frame stacked with muscle, made him seem so much bigger.
His piercing gaze—one blue eye, one green—trained on me. “I have some information you may want.”
“That I may want?” I asked, dumbfounded.
As a rule, when I needed information, I badgered (usually with violence) Red, one of the lower-status shifters. Their species never came to me. That Roger, one of the most important shifters in the entire world, would impart knowledge was…odd. That he would come to my house to do so was…worrying.
I glanced behind him, noticing a racy muscle car parked on the other side of the street. No one sat in it or stood beside it.
“Are you alone?” I asked. I needed to establish the parameters for this crazy situation. At the moment, my gut was automatically screaming, It’s a trap, kill everyone!
“Yes. Can I come in?”
I blinked rapidly. “In…my house?”
He didn’t nod, just stared at me. Apparently that was yes. Or maybe, yes, you moron, do you not understand English?
“O-kay.” I took a hesitant step back. “I should probably warn you that—”
Before I could finish, Roger’s dual-colored eyes darted past me. His expression, naturally hard, as befit someone who had fought for his position and therefore couldn’t show weakness, morphed into a terrifying mask of rage.
I glanced over my shoulder to find Darius wearing a ladies’ silk bathrobe—mine—and standing in a balanced sort of way that screamed enemy—kill! His condescending smile didn’t reach his hard eyes. He didn’t flex his straight fingers. They probably still hurt.
“Mr. Nevin,” Darius said. He sauntered closer. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Why is he wearing your bathrobe?” Roger asked. A shimmer of green outlined his body, his shifter magic threatening to change into his wolf form. He was clearly also thinking enemy—kill!
“He likes women’s clothing. He’s eccentric in that way.” I winked at Roger. “Anyway, do you still want to come in, or would you rather fill me in on the porch?”
Roger studied me for a moment. “I’m not here for trouble. In the house is fine.”
>
“I should probably warn you that I have two mages in the house,” I said, stepping to the side. “If you try to call in some reinforcements to attack Darius, it won’t go well for you.”
He hesitated and his eyes narrowed. “You have two mages and an elder vampire in your home in the middle of the night?”
“I’m popular.”
He paused before starting forward. “Like I said, I’m not here for any trouble.”
“Wow. A guy like Roger Nevin coming for tea is something you don’t see every day.” Callie’s eyes widened.
“The same could be said of Darius,” Dizzy called from the kitchen.
“Do you want something to drink, Roger?” I asked.
“No thanks, I’m fine.” Roger slowly passed through the archway into the kitchen. His gaze swept the area. “You haven’t been by to bother Red in a while.”
“I’m not doing any bounty hunting.” I took up my wine and settled into a chair. “I haven’t needed information. I figured he’d want to be left alone.”
“I’m sure he thanks you for that. As do I.” Roger leaned against the counter.
Darius, who’d disappeared for no more than thirty seconds, reappeared in the archway opposite the shifter, fully dressed, though his clothes were slightly wrinkled. He leaned against the frame gracefully. The two men stared at each other. Heavy silence filled the room.
“Well, this is cozy.” I took a sip of my wine.
“It isn’t helping my buzz any,” Dizzy muttered, looking back and forth between Roger and Darius.
Roger shifted and crossed his arms over his chest. He finally tore his eyes away from Darius and refocused on me. “As you know, I view what you did in Seattle as a selfless act. You were in danger, both from that demon and the Mages’ Guild, and even though it wasn’t your town to save, you didn’t back down until the mages were stopped and the demon was banished. I commend you for that.”
“My people made the first step at beating back the guild in that town, but I don’t recall receiving a formal thanks from your office.” Darius lifted an eyebrow.