Triad Soul

by Nathan Burgoine

  *

  “Okay,” Curtis said, checking his phone. “They’re leaving.”

  The three sat in Luc’s Mercedes, in the lot adjacent to the Riverside Hospital. It was freezing, and Anders had his fists bunched in his coat pockets. He’d had his fill through the afternoon, managing to convince the men to close their gallery a little early, and then firing up one of the apps on his phone for some post-work stress relief with one of the closeted Conservative politicians before he went home from work for the day. The man had been so tightly wound Anders had barely forced himself not to draw too deeply from the man’s soul. Take too much, and those an incubus drew from would give in to temptations, lose their temper, make irrational choices, and otherwise act without willpower.

  Then again, the guy was a giant hypocrite, constantly going on about family values. It might be fun to see him crash and burn. Maybe he could arrange for a spectacularly indecent moment to be “accidentally” discovered?

  He did like paddles, after all.

  “Why are you grinning?” Luc said.

  Anders shook off the reverie. “Just thinking.”

  “We can tell,” Luc said dryly. He turned back to watch the two sleek black cars they’d been watching since they’d parked.

  “No details, please,” Curtis said, though he sounded amused.

  They must have been feeling something through their fucking connection. It was always stronger when the three of them were physically close to each other. Still, at least Curtis didn’t seem annoyed. Come to think of it, even Luc wasn’t acting as pissy as normal.

  He looked at the vampire. Was it just Anders, or was Luc’s hair less…perfect? It almost looked like he hadn’t bothered to beat it into submission with whatever range of hair gunk was the most expensive this year. And he was wearing jeans. Nice jeans, sure, with stupid silver buttons and some sort of weird stitching and shit, but they were still jeans.

  He actually looked good. Like, guy-you’d-meet-up-with-and-decide-to-fuck good, not hands-off-the-merchandise good.

  The vampire turned and raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

  Anders shook his head.

  “There,” Curtis said.

  They both turned back to the cars. Sure enough, the two drivers had hopped out and opened the back doors. A small group of men in suits climbed into the backs, and within moments, the cars had pulled away.

  They wasted no time. Curtis checked his phone, got the room, and they were on their way.

  A man stood watch outside the room. He was perhaps in his forties, brown skinned, and thickly built. If Anders had to guess, he’d say the man was there to make sure no riffraff made it inside.

  No bets on whether or not they’d count as riffraff.

  “Crap,” Curtis said. Their group hesitated at the end of the hall. The guard hadn’t noticed them yet. “I need to make new glasses,” Curtis said. “I have no idea if he’s a wizard.”

  “Off-the-rack suit and cheap shoes. At best? A sorcerer,” Luc said.

  “Score one for the snobby bloodsucker,” Anders said, but he had to agree. “Let me handle him.”

  As they approached, Anders released a wave of allure down the hall ahead of him. Like heat escaping his skin, he felt it brush over the man at the door, who turned to note their approach. The man’s pupils widened and his shoulders loosened, but his gaze didn’t travel over Anders’s body. Not even a little bi, then. Just like the bartenders. Where were all the damn bisexuals in this city?

  Still, he had a smile for the demon. Anders’s allure was a force of nature.

  “Hey,” Anders said, with his best buddy-buddy tone. “We’re here to see Kavan.”

  Anders let his allure loose again at the man’s frown, which then disappeared.

  “I’m not really supposed to…” the man said, clearing his throat.

  “We’re working with Malcolm Stirling,” Anders said. “And David Rimmer? You’ve heard of them, right?”

  The man nodded, relaxing. “Oh. Sure.” He paused. “Just maybe don’t tell Kendra? She didn’t want anyone bothering him.”

  “You got it,” Anders said, clapping the man on the shoulder. He had no idea who Kendra was, and he didn’t care. The contact strengthened the hold of his allure, and the man’s last traces of tension vanished.

  “Good deal,” the man said, stepping aside.

  *

  Kavan wasn’t alone in the room. Anders was surprised to see a black woman there at the bedside, around Curtis’s age, maybe.

  “Rebekah?” Curtis said.

  She turned. The expression on the woman’s face was misery. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She’d obviously been crying. It seemed to take her a few moments to place Curtis after he spoke.

  “Hey, Curt.” Her voice was a bit raw, and she had to clear her throat. She had a handkerchief in her hand.

  Anders looked between the two of them, waiting. Curtis hadn’t said much about Rebekah, but Anders had pictured a woman more likely to bust out a battle-axe than a hankie. But then again, all he really knew was she was one of Curtis’s wizard friends, and she was Family. Curtis might trust her, but Anders wasn’t going to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  “I’m sorry,” Curtis said, glancing at Luc and Anders. “I…I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  She put the cloth away. “It’s okay.” Then she seemed to regain her focus. She drew herself up, squared her shoulders, and regarded the three of them, taking a long, deep breath. “He hasn’t woken up. They’re not sure he will. I called Kenzie. She’s coming. I thought you might be her.”

  “She let me know now might be a good time to be here without anyone watching.”

  “Oh.”

  Anders looked at Kavan. Bandages wrapped his torso, neck, and left arm. The ones across his stomach bore faint traces of red in small spots. He wore an oxygen mask with an IV in place. The blanket was low across his waist, probably to avoid putting any weight on his stomach wounds.

  He lay completely still.

  “Why didn’t he croak?” Anders said, frowning down at the demon.

  “Anders,” Luc said.

  “What?” Anders shrugged. “Everyone else died. Why not him?”

  “Who are you?” Rebekah said. Her voice was tight.

  “Sorry,” Curtis said. “This is Anders, and this is Luc.” He gestured to Rebekah. “And this is Rebekah Mitchell.”

  Luc offered Rebekah a wan smile, and she returned it in kind. Then she looked at Anders. “You’re the demon.”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  She bit her lip. “His pack says he’s cut off from them,” she said, her words coming in a rush. “They don’t feel connected to him any more. What does that mean?”

  Anders shook his head. “No idea. I’ve never had a pack.”

  “My family sent them away,” she said. “I guess they were afraid they were going to set the place on fire.”

  “Rebekah,” Curtis said, his voice hesitant. “I don’t mean to be…uh…insensitive…but why are you here?”

  Rebekah scowled at him, but when Curtis raised his hands in defense, her expression shifted to surprise. She laughed, though there wasn’t any humor in it. “Right. Of course. You don’t know.” She sighed and looked at the three of them. “Kavan is my brother.”

  Anders looked between the two. Now he knew to look, he could see a familial resemblance. Both were tall and built strong, and they both had that dent in their chins.

  “Oh,” Curtis said. Anders saw the wizard putting it all together. He’d explained to Curtis before how male demons shelled the unborn babies of pregnant women. Seducing a pregnant woman was the only way a male incubus could continue the line, and though it often led to the death of both mother and baby, the babies who did survive would discover their demonic heritage sometime after their young adulthood. It was a shitty time, as Anders well recalled, but it was what it was.

  “Bet that was news,” Anders said with a light snort. He could only imagine what a
scandal it would have been for one of the Families to admit a demon had managed to get to one of their own.

  “Anders,” Luc said again.

  Rebekah glared at Anders. He could almost feel heat coming off her gaze, and he held up a hand. “No offence.” He looked back at Kavan. “He struck me as a tough son of a bitch.”

  The door to the room opened again, and all four of them turned. A smartly dressed girl with glasses and a lean, handsome young man with a clean-cut look came in. Distracted by pulling off their gloves and coats, both blinked when they realized Anders, Curtis, and Luc were there.

  “Getting crowded,” Anders said. He smiled at the young man. He had pretty blue eyes.

  “This is Anders and Luc,” Curtis said, gesturing. “Luc, Anders, this is Mackenzie and Matthew.” Anders felt a twinge of discomfort through their bond. Was Curtis not entirely happy to have them all meet? He wondered what that was about, but before he could say anything, the girl—Mackenzie—was shaking hands with Luc, greeting him in what seemed to be very polite French.

  Anders didn’t catch most of what she said, but he definitely heard the word “Duc.” Of course. Fucking Lucky Ducky.

  Luc raised her hand and kissed it, smiling, and said something back. Everyone smiled like soppy morons. Anders managed not to roll his eyes.

  “Kenzie,” Rebekah said, and the moment was thankfully over. “Can you…?”

  Mackenzie stepped back from the rest of them and went to Rebekah. They hugged—this crew seemed to be big on the hugging—and when they broke apart, Mackenzie turned to look down at Kavan. “Do they know what happened to him?”

  “Not really,” Rebekah said. “Nothing specific.”

  “If it’s like the other demons,” Anders said, “he got attacked by a werewolf, slammed with a binding spell, and strips of skin were taken off him after he was down.”

  “It wasn’t any of the local wolves,” the cute boy—Matthew, was it?—said. He crossed his arms.

  Anders winked at him. Matthew scowled back. Huh. Cute boy had spunk. That was always a winning combination.

  “No idea if my family will be back again soon,” Rebekah said. “Jonathan wanted my mother at the moot, but I doubt she’ll stay long. Though I have no idea why she’s decided to give a shit now.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Mackenzie said, and she reached into the well-worn messenger bag she had over one shoulder, pulling out what looked to be a big off-green rock. Anders glanced at Curtis, raising one eyebrow.

  “Bloodstone,” Curtis said quietly. “Mackenzie’s strongest in earth magics.”

  “Healing,” Luc said.

  “I knew that,” Anders lied.

  The blue-eyed sweet thing had walked around to the far side of the bed and shrugged off his jacket. He flashed a quick glance at Anders before looking away. Interesting. Anders did enjoy a shy boy. He was lean under his coat, wearing a tight blue hoodie Anders thought would make a great restraint, were it pulled half over the young man’s head and tied behind him. Matthew pulled a chair over from the wall and glanced at Rebekah. She looked away. When he sat beside Kavan and took Kavan’s hand, Anders smiled. Well then. Maybe the boy with the pretty blue eyes already had a thing for demons.

  He made a note to ask Curtis later.

  “Is there any way I can help?” Curtis said.

  “We’re not in a coven together, and we haven’t practiced healing spells together,” Mackenzie said. “So it’s probably a better idea if I cast solo.” She’d placed the rock on the center of Kavan’s chest and put her hands to either side of the stone. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then exhaled.

  Kavan’s chest rose higher on his next inhalation than it had since they’d arrived.

  Anders looked closely, but if something visible was happening with the woman’s magic, he couldn’t sense it. It was like that sometimes. He’d seen Curtis call a thunderstorm into being, slam people into the ground, or light candles with a word and a gesture, but magic wasn’t always obvious. It was one of the things he hated about wizards. If a demon or a vampire or a werebeast was pissed at you, you’d know it.

  Wizards could come at you sideways.

  As she breathed, Kavan’s respiration seemed to grow deeper. His fingers twitched, and the beeping of the machines picked up over time.

  But Mackenzie was frowning. Anders wasn’t the only one to notice.

  “What’s wrong?” Rebekah said.

  “He’s really hurt,” Mackenzie said, then went back to breathing.

  It took a few minutes before anything else happened.

  Kavan opened his eyes.

  *

  Rebekah moved to Kavan first, sitting on the edge of his bed.

  “Bek?” Kavan said. It was not the rough-and-tumble, confident-as-shit voice Anders had encountered before. Kavan sounded weak, pained, and barely awake.

  “Hey,” Rebekah said. “Welcome back.”

  “I feel wrong.”

  Rebekah shared a look with Mackenzie. Anders felt a wave of concern from Curtis and tried to see what he was so upset about. It took him a moment. Mackenzie hadn’t let go. The stone was still on the demon’s chest, and her fingertips were growing white. She didn’t look so good, either. She’d already been fair, but now she was borderline pale. He frowned at Curtis, who shook his head.

  Well, shit.

  “Can you tell us who attacked you?” Luc said.

  They all turned back to Kavan. He frowned, blinking. “Wolf.”

  “Werewolf again,” Anders said.

  “Not a local pack wolf,” Matthew said, giving him another dark look. The kid certainly had a soft spot for werewolves. Maybe he was a furry.

  “I’m inclined to agree,” Luc said. “One of the lone wolves, perhaps.”

  “Knife.”

  Anders glanced at Kavan. He was really struggling. Leaning over him, Mackenzie looked about ready to pass out.

  “A knife?” Rebekah said. “The werewolf had a knife?” She frowned, and Anders understood the confusion. Werewolves had pretty serviceable knives already, what with the teeth and claws and all. But strips of skin had been taken from all the victims. And, come to think of it, hadn’t the wolf raised its arms over its head when it was straddling Burke? Hadn’t there been a glint of light on something?

  Had it been a knife?

  “Short, curved…” Kavan said. “Cut me. Took me.”

  “What?” Curtis said. The tremor of worry that flooded through their bond hit Anders like a cold rush.

  He fucking hated the cold.

  “Magic,” Kavan said, and his eyes closed.

  Mackenzie lifted her hands off his chest. “Sorry,” she said. She tried to stand up, but she nearly fell over. Matthew rose and helped her into the chair.

  “That didn’t heal him,” Rebekah said. It wasn’t a question.

  “He’s like an empty pit,” Mackenzie said, flinching. “Sorry. I don’t know how else to describe it. I kept pouring it into him, but it felt like I was trying to fill a swimming pool with a teaspoon, and there was a leak, most of it was just leaving him…” She closed her eyes. “Leave the stone. It should help, but…”

  Anders knew full well what she wasn’t saying. Kavan was toast. Not this very moment, maybe, but soon enough.

  “A knife,” Luc said. “Does this make sense to any of you? And did he mean a knife capable of magic?”

  “No idea,” Rebekah said. She didn’t look up from Kavan’s face.

  Curtis shook his head. Matthew just shrugged.

  “We’re dealing with a wolf,” Anders said. “And magic. We knew that much. But the knife…that’s new.”

  “Do you remember a knife?” Curtis said. “You said the wolf had something in its hand. It could have been a knife, right?”

  Anders remembered the way the werewolf had raised its hands over his head, then driven them down into Burke. “Definitely metal. It glinted, and the way the wolf held it? Yeah. A knife.”

  “Short and curved,” Cur
tis said. Then he sighed, shaking his head. “Rebekah, do you mind if I try something else?”

  She looked at him. “What?”

  “I don’t have my glasses, but I want to take a look at him. I want to see what kinds of energy are involved here, if any.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “If you think you can.”

  “I can,” Curtis said. “It’ll be exhausting, but I can.” He glanced at Anders and Luc. “I might need to draw on you guys a bit. It took me weeks to make the glasses, and this is going to be harder.”

  “I like harder,” Anders said.

  Matthew laughed, though it seemed to be in spite of himself. Anders winked at him. The blue-eyed cutie looked away.

  “Ha.” Curtis bumped shoulders with Anders, then moved to the foot of the bed. He shook his hands out, bracing his feet, and took a long, steadying breath.

  This time, Anders knew the moment magic was in play because he could feel Curtis’s pull on the bond connecting the three of them together. Heat spun from him, and gooseflesh shivered up and down his arms. Beside him, he felt Luc shift his stance.

  “Aperiam oculos,” Curtis said. Anders recognized Curtis’s “magic voice.” Calm, controlled, and careful. He repeated the words a few times, closing his eyes, and then he raised his hands, touching his eyelids.

  “Lux influens in fluvium.” Curtis turned his fingers away from his eyes until his hands were palm-out and raised toward the bed.

  “Are you guys following this?” Rebekah asked quietly.

  Matthew shook his head, but Mackenzie nodded slowly, a small line forming between her eyebrows.

  Anders already knew Curtis was the best, but it was still enjoyable to see other people get it. Blue-eyed Matthew might be good for a night—okay, maybe a long weekend, if they had rope—but there was no replacing Curtis, that was for damned sure.

  The pull grew stronger, and Anders grunted. Heat pooled in his gut, and he felt it release across the room into Curtis. It wasn’t an entirely pleasant feeling when they drew on each other like this, but Curtis seemed to be very much in control of it. It hadn’t crossed the line into painful. Anders knew he’d need to find himself some fun to make up what Curtis was taking, but it wasn’t going to leave him vulnerable.