by Aileen Erin
I reached into my bag and grabbed one of the vials. The potion looked like dark gray sludge but it was brewed with holy water and bits of the relic.
I slowly unscrewed the cap. “I’m going to put this your back.”
“Is that a good idea?” Meredith asked. “Don’t those explode when they hit the demons?”
“Dastien isn’t a demon.” I was pretty sure it wouldn’t damage him, but the potion should be strong enough to burn off the demon’s blood. It would be worth a little sting to make sure there was no chance of him getting possessed. “Guess we’ll find out.” This might burn a little, okay?
Dastien yipped, and I poured out the vial, quickly muttering the words to invoke it.
He snarled as the potion hit his skin. The vial slipped to the ground and I grabbed him, holding him still. “Give it a second. The burning should stop.” I muttered my prayer activating the potion, hoping I wasn’t lying.
There was a flash of white light, and then Dastien quit struggling.
Donovan squatted down next to us, back to human and sporting a pair of generic, black sweatpants. “Shift back.”
Dastien shifted, and suddenly I was staring at his naked back. A small burn—a little bigger than the size of a quarter—marred his otherwise smooth skin. It was raw and read, weeping a little bit of blood. “It isn’t healing?”
“No.” Donovan shook his head. “That’s a supernatural hurt. Those heal slowly.” He leaned in and sniffed Dastien’s burn. “But it smells fine now. No infection.”
I let out a breath of relief, but wondered—if I’d acted faster—if I’d known what was going on with Raphael, could I have stopped it before the demon took hold?
Donovan patted Dastien’s shoulder. “You should be okay. You’ve got quite the mate.”
Dastien laughed. “I agree.”
He looked back at me, and I couldn’t help running my fingers through his hair. “You’re okay.”
He nodded.
I took him in, and my eyes widened. “You need some clothes. Like now.”
“I guess I do. Be right back.” Dastien headed for the SUV, and I tried not to steal a peek. Much. The rest of the wolves followed. I saw Mr. Dawson’s brown wolf dart past, and knew the coast was clear of naked bits I didn’t want to see.
I stared at Luciana’s house. We had a small victory—one not without cost—but Luciana was out there. Somewhere. “I’m going to have to go in there, aren’t I?”
“Probably. I’d help but I have to deal with our cop friend.” Cosette tilted her head toward the car. “He looks like he’s about to pee himself. If he hasn’t already.”
I grunted my agreement, but stayed there, staring up at Luciana’s place. It was white, with forest green shutters, and a matching door. The white porch seemed almost homey. It might be, if not for the blood dripping down the steps. Not to mention Luciana’s craft room…
Shuddering, I turned away.
How Daniel had lived there, I had no idea.
Thinking of him brought up a host of emotions I couldn’t deal with yet. I shoved them down, but I couldn’t ignore the question that keep coming back to me. “How could Luciana do this to her people? To her son?” I asked Dad.
He sat by me. “I don’t know.” He put his arm around me, and I leaned into him. “I’d do anything to make sure you were okay.”
I motioned to the red plastic containers. “Clearly.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You’re mine. No matter what’s happened. I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”
I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent. He smelled like home. I could even smell Mom’s lavender lotion. “I know. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too, kiddo.”
I patted Dad’s leg and then stood, brushing myself off. There was no time to waste. Not when Luciana was out there, doing God only knew what. If I wanted to live through the next fight, I needed to be ready and the potions I had weren’t going to cut it. If there were any books on demons hiding in the compound, they’d be inside.
As I started toward the house, my hands shook.
You can do this, Tessa. I told myself. You can do this. You’re strong. You got out of there once. She’s not even here. Keep your head on straight, and it’ll be fine.
I snorted. No way was everything going to be fine, but I made myself move forward anyway.
At this point, I was the only one who could sort through whatever was left of Luciana’s magic. It wasn’t going to be fun and it wasn’t going to be pretty, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter. At every turn, Luciana did something more and more horrific. Someone had to stop her.
Maybe I wasn’t the best person for the job, but I had to try.
Even if it meant coming face to face with my worst nightmares.
Chapter Twelve
There was nothing worse than entering a quiet, dark house just before three in the morning. Especially one a demon just came out of. Yup. Not on my top ten list of things to do.
The door squeaked as I pushed it open. The metallic smell of blood hit me first. I swallowed down my disgust, praying I wouldn’t throw up. Then my toe bumped a severed leg and I nearly lost it.
Three dead cops sprawled in pieces around the living room.
This was so not my jam.
I tried to ignore the bodies as I headed down the hallway. The craft room’s door hung open on one hinge. I pulled it the rest of the way open and took a steadying breath.
Memories of being trapped in the circle on the floor rushed over me. I lurched back before I could help myself. The urge to run away was almost unbearable, but if there was something in here that could help us, I had to force myself. If nothing else, we could clear out all the books. “Wait,” Dastien’s voice stopped me. “Why are you going in without me?”
He stood behind me, wearing a pair of generic gray sweatpants from the SUVs. “You were getting dressed, and I thought…”
“No. We do this together.”
I gripped the strap of my messenger bag. “Okay.” Having Dastien there was a weight off my mind, but it still took me a few minutes to work up my courage. After a lot of deep breaths, I stepped into the room.
A layer of dried blood coated the floor, cracking as I walked over it. Hundreds of unlit black candles stood on pedestals of fallen wax. Whatever potion she’d last cooked up smelled like burnt plastic.
And the circle the demon had come from was still active.
Waves of magic thrummed against my skin like electricity. If I looked at it out of the corner of my eye, a yawning chasm opened in the center of floor. Pieces of the fourth cop lay sprinkled around the edges—he must’ve triggered it, releasing the demon.
This was a shitshow waiting to happen.
Thankfully, there was nothing crawling out now. At least not yet. “Wait at the door. The circle’s still working.”
“Be careful.”
“Just give me a second.” Thank God I’d been reading all those magic books. An active circle was dangerous, especially since I had no idea how to close the chasm. But I could bind the circle, making it impossible for anything to cross out of it.
All I needed was salt and a little bit of magic.
God. Why did she have to put everything in unlabeled black canisters? I didn’t want to touch anything I didn’t have to, so I opened one of the biggest canisters—hoping for salt—and gagged.
The smell was enough to do it, but the sight of eyeballs floating in some green gelatinous goo put me straight over the edge.
“That was so not fucking salt.” I screwed the lid back on, and set it back as quickly as I could before wiping my hands on my jeans. “If I were salt, where would I be?”
“I could try the kitchen?”
Now that he was here, I didn’t want him to leave. “She’s got to have some in here. Every witch does. It has to be right in front of me.” I moved farther into the room and grabbed the next likely canister. “Please, don’t let it be eyeballs.”
/> Nope. Hair. Thin chunks of it were tied with pieces of twine and labeled with people’s names.
I closed the canister and slipped it into my bag. We’d have to take care of it later. Luciana could do all kinds of hexes with hair.
“Hey,” Dastien said, suddenly behind me.
I jumped and let out a very uncool scream.
“Shit.” I clutched my chest. “I told you to wait outside.”
“I was bored.”
“Just don’t touch the circle.” I pointed at the markings on the floor.
He took in the room. “It smells awful in here.”
“I know.”
“Is this where she…”
I nodded, trying not to think about the past, and focused on scanning the shelves. What if I needed some of her ingredients for a potion? If we burned the house, then all her supplies would be destroyed.
Nope.
If I needed something Luciana had, then I was doing the wrong kind of magic. “Let’s just take the books.” I gave him my bag. “Stuff in anything that looks handy. As much as you can fit. We’ll sort it out when Claudia gets here tomorrow.”
“You got it.”
“Now I just need some salt.”
Dastien faced the shelves, and grabbed a medium-sized canister. “There you go.”
“What?” I unscrewed the lid, and sure enough—salt. “How did you know where it was?”
He tapped his nose.
“But it reeks in here.”
“You have to learn to separate the smells. Search for the one you want. It takes a little practice, but most Weres can do it.”
“I can’t.” Not with all the gross smells in here. I wouldn’t even know where to start.
“You’re new at this. When I was a kid, it was overwhelming. All the scents that humans use—especially girls.” He gave me a wink. “All those soaps, lotions, perfumes…”
I shook my head. “Somehow I doubt that stopped you from flirting.”
“I’d be happy to show you my smooth ways of… Scenting things.”
I laughed. Here. In this room. I actually laughed. “Thanks for the distraction.”
“You seemed tense. Let’s get this sorted and get out of here, okay?”
“Deal.”
He started clearing out the books while I took care of the circle. Sprinkling salt, I walked around its edge, not daring to step even one hair over the line. When I completed the lap, magic rose. I held out my hands to it. “Nothing leaves this circle.” I forced my power through the words, willing them to be true. The magic snapped into place, trapping Luciana’s evil mojo inside the larger circle of salt.
I wiped the sweat from my brow. I was already tired, but doing that one bit of magic made me even more exhausted.
Dastien froze. “What was that?”
“A seal.” I grabbed a handful of salt and threw it at the circle. It slammed against an invisible wall, and sprinkled to the ground outside the ring. “Nothing’s getting in or out of that thing.” That was one less problem to worry about.
Dastien zipped the messenger bag and hefted the strap over his head. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Yes, please.”
Outside, more Cazadores had gathered. The rest of our group had shifted back and everyone wore the same gray sweats. Mr. Dawson, Donovan, and Dad were huddled together, planning how to torch the compound. Only Cosette stood off to the side, leaning on Dad’s car as she stared up at the moon.
It was weird to be handling all this without Claudia. She should be the one to decide what happened to the compound.
I joined the group, and Mr. Dawson paused, giving me a chance to say my piece. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Do you have a better one?” Dad asked.
“No. Not really, but Claudia and the rest of what’s left of this coven will be here tomorrow. I hate to do anything drastic like burning down her home when she’s already on the way.”
“And then what? This is a mess.” Mr. Dawson gestured around the compound. “If humans don’t stumble in here, animals will.”
“Why don’t we give them a proper funeral? Although I don’t know what’s right for witches.” I turned to Dad. “I mean, at the very least we should call Mom and ask. Or Tia Rosa.”
“I’d rather not drag your mother into this.”
“She’s going to find out about it.”
“I know, I just… I want to protect her from making that decision.”
Mom was going to flip when she found out that he didn’t consult her, but if he wanted to suffer the consequences, I couldn’t stop him.
“What if this is too big too hide?” Chris’ hair was way poofier than normal—a sure sign he’d been messing with it too much, something he tended to do when stressed. “We’ve talked about coming out to the humans. Why not now? Instead of covering everything up?”
“Not like this.” Mr. Dawson shook his head. “If our first impression is death and violence, then humans will assume from the start that supernaturals are dangerous. That’s exactly what we don’t want.”
“We should follow our usual protocol. We cover our tracks. Get rid of any sign of supernatural goings on. Dispose of bodies and the evidence of spellcraft. In a secluded area like this, burning the houses is a fine way to do it,” Donovan said. “I know this is not ideal, and yes, it’s sizable cover-up, but it wouldn’t be the grand first impression we’d hoped for. When we tell the humans we’re here it has to be done extremely carefully, or we’ll end up on the losin’ end of things.”
Donovan’s words hit me hard. I didn’t like covering this up. It made me feel like I’d done something wrong, when that was the farthest thing from the truth.
“Destroying Luciana’s house is smart. Burning those floorboards is the only way to make sure she can’t do anymore of her evil magic in there. But the rest of it…” Suddenly I was more than exhausted, and when Claudia got back tomorrow, it was only going to get worse. “Just do me a favor and tell Mom before you set everything on fire.”
“Okay, kiddo,” Dad said. “Probably a good idea.”
“We’ll leave it to you,” Dastien said. “Unless you need us for anything else…?”
“I can handle it from here.” Mr. Dawson nodded to Donovan. “You want to take the students back?”
“Aye.” Donovan put his arm around Meredith’s shoulders. “That’ll be for the best. It’s been a long night for all of us.”
In that moment, I was glad to be considered a student. I wanted no part of this. Going back and getting some sleep sounded like a much better option.
“I’m off too,” Cosette said. “We’re running out of time to wipe memories.”
“Chris,” Mr. Dawson said. “Go with her. I’ll tell my contact at the corner’s office you’re heading that way. Cazadores to me. Let’s get this clean up done.”
I gave Dad a quick hug and headed for the closest SUV. Meredith and Donovan piled in back while Dastien tossed the bag of books in the trunk.
“Well that was a hell of a night,” Meredith said as she buckled her seatbelt.
I leaned into the soft leather. “For real.” I closed my eyes. “Did we really fight a demon?”
“You’re damned right we did,” Meredith said, and Donovan laughed over her words.
I reached back and high-fived her “We’re seriously badass.” Laughing right then was probably asking for something worse to happen, but at this point—I needed the laugh. So, I took it.
***
Back at Dastien’s cabin, I showered and then threw on some pajamas. He set a plate with a heated up burrito and some chips on my lap, but I put it on the nightstand.
“You have to eat.”
“I’m way too tired.” I flopped down on the bed, pulling the covers up around me.
He moved in front of me. One of his dark brown curls fell in front of his face as he bent over. “Please eat.”
I took in the sight of him in his gym shorts. His chest still glistened fr
om his shower. He was gorgeous. His body was perfection. Each ab muscle well defined. And his arms…
Thank you, God.
“Cherie.” He had a knowing smile on his face as he leaned down, trapping me between his arms. “You’re somewhere else…”
I licked my lips. “You could say that.”
He ran his nose along mine, before finally leaning in for a kiss. “Maybe you’re hungry for something other than food?”
“If you’re going to prance around in that outfit, then yeah. I’d say so.”
His deep laugh ran through me, warming me from the inside. “Prance? Outfit? I’m feeling a little objectified.”
I sighed, dreamily. “You should be. I’m definitely objectifying you right now.” I ran my hands down his stomach, and he leaned forward, biting my lip.
His kisses were addictive. They drowned out all the bad. All the scary. And I had a lot of that going on in my head. But one touch, and I was gone.
I moaned as his tongue touched mine, and then I melted into the bed.
Yeah. I could get used to this. As he reached under my tank top, all coherent thought fled. All I wanted was more.
I let myself get lost in the sensation of his body against mine.
More. I needed more.
Chapter Thirteen
I never did get around to eating that burrito, but after our heavy make-out session, I slept like a baby. When I woke up, I reached over for him.
The sheets were cold.
Dastien.
“I’m here,” he said.
The tone of his voice was off. Too quiet, with a hint of annoyance. Something was wrong. I sat up. He had the TV on silent, and the news was on. It played helicopter footage looking over a street of burned houses in the middle of the woods.
My heart stopped. “No.” I slid from the bed, and moved to his side. Dastien’s hand found mine as he un-muted the TV.
“…dashboard camera footage led the police to this compound. The suspects in question—”
I sank onto the couch and muted the TV again, unable to listen to more. “How did this happen?”
“The video auto-uploaded to the police servers. Someone leaked it to the media.” Dastien rubbed a hand against his head.