Blood & Magic

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Blood & Magic Page 11

by Catherine Wolffe


  “Easy, cowboy. We’ve got some training to do before the women are ready to go undercover,” Logan added. “I need you here.”

  “There’s more.” J.T. waited for a beat. “I think part of the reason he’s so successful with imprisoning these people, to begin with, is that the bastard can manipulate their minds. I had a strange vision while I was in the mansion. I could have sworn the woman I met was real. I believe the Sultan controls the prisoners’ mind with their insecurities. Like, things from their past or fears they harbor deep inside. He uses them to keep the prisoners in line. Working from inside their heads, he rules their existence.” He shook his head. “I’m not surprised either. As his blood slave, he did the same to me. I understand that now. But the situation we’re dealing with currently is on a much grander scale.” He paused a beat, making sure they were listening. “I think he’s grown more powerful. He’s evolving.”

  “I remember the dreams.” Logan’s mouth set in a flat line. The good news is, we have a few moves of our own. Gus and I have been practicing.”

  Duke glanced from one to the other. “Well,” Duke said, drawing out the word. “Are you going to let us in on the details, Lodi, or are we supposed to guess? Because I’ve got to tell you, I’m not up for twenty questions tonight. I have put in a full day already.”

  Since J.T. knew about Logan and Gus’ work on the dirt bombs, he smiled wryly at Duke. “Horse training putting your butt in the dirt, Duke?” Unable to resist the taunt, he smirked for Duke’s benefit. Beside him, Logan’s snort of laughter didn’t go unnoticed.

  Duke swelled under the scrutiny. “All right, smart ass, what have you done today besides sleep, huh?”

  J.T. straightened. An image of Jessie sprawled on the floor of Katie’s backroom crept past his guard. “I think I deserve a little rest after the recon I completed. Don’t you, ‘smart ass’?” Repeating Duke’s slur back at him, J.T.’s temper flared. He took a step toward Duke, baring his teeth. The day had been shitty, and this asshole wanted to compare dick lengths.

  Logan stepped between them. “That’s enough. You, two hotheads, cool it!”

  Duke thrust a finger past Logan into J.T.’s shoulder. The move shoved J.T. back a step. “This one started it.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass who started it. I’m finishing it. Is that clear?” Laying a hand on both their chests, he pushed them apart. “Duke, I was talking about fucking dirt bombs, bro. We aren’t trying to hold out on you just so you understand. Copy?”

  “Yeah, I copy.” The words came out in a deflated breath.

  “Good. I’ve got the training aspect ready to go tomorrow. I’ll fill you in on the details then. Be here at dusk, and we’ll begin. Understood?” He glanced from J.T. to Duke and back again. “Let’s eat.”

  ***

  Murmurs were all Duke and J.T. mustered as they settled around the table in Aubrie’s kitchen. Small and cozy, the round table proved comfortable. A neutral ground for ideas as well as confrontations. Sometimes heated but always with the best of intentions, these friends – this family came together to weather the storms facing their unique existence. Watching as they came together around the table, J.T. waited for his emotions to even out. Shoving the images of Jessie to the back of his mind, he joined the group.

  With the seat beside Aubrie, he caught her reaction out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t trust him. Who could blame her? He was a bloodsucker just like the Sultan. Whether those around him accepted him as a trustworthy being or not was a burden J.T. had put to bed a long time ago. Maybe he held you at arms’ length for that as well as so many other reasons. He didn’t analyze it too deeply. Maybe he was afraid of the man he would find if he did.

  Glancing at Duke from across the width of the battered wooden table, he saw a fellow soldier. A couple of days ago Duke came to him asking for a favor, a favor as a soldier. Why? Because they were brothers, bonded in fire. The petty arguing didn’t mean shit. No, when push came to shove, J.T. knew he could rely on those seated around the table. He glanced up to catch Duke eyeballing him from across the table.

  There was always a niggling consideration chipping away at his confidence, though. The truth may lie in him being a disposable commodity now. A supernatural creature, who possessed powers, yet didn’t live. Something he had considered over and over. Were their requests lodged in a SEAL bond or the fact he could easily become collateral damage?

  Duke locked eyes with J.T. A big mouthed agitator sometimes, Duke was still a friend. J.T. was simply tired. “Sorry, bro. I’m whipped. Didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “Forget about it. I shouldn’t have smarted off. We’re good.”

  ***

  The whiskey was passed around after the meal. It seemed to mellow the mood. Over dessert, the team talked about the impending battle. Suggestions were made and shelved. Ideas, a lively discussion of facts as well as disagreements all became part of the evening. One truth they could all agree on was the urgent need to stop the Sultan. How much difficulty the task would entail became a point of concern.

  “I still say, we locate his lair and destroy the stronghold. Cut off the head of the beast. His control will wither.” Logan’s example sounded solid.

  Despite his best effort, J.T. still found their plan skewed against him. If it had to be, then fuck it. “In other words, kill my master, and the bloodsuckers will die as well.”

  A stilted silence settled around the table.

  J.T. had hit a nerve. “I get it. No skin off my dead back. After all, I’m already a corpse. Good plan. Logan, I have to say, I agree.”

  Logan sighed heavily. “You are a bit testy this evening. Aren’t you, vampire? I wasn’t suggesting you are any more disposable than anyone else sitting at this table. Get the stick out of your ass, J.T.”

  “Stop it! Stop it now.” Aubrie’s words silenced the bickering. “This isn’t right. We can’t go into this with the idea that any of us are disposable.” She cut a glance at J.T. “We all have to survive this. Each of us has a destiny. There will be no messing with the futures of those sitting at this table. We aren’t gods, but we are skilled, living beings. Some will live longer than others. That’s the only difference.” Giving him a quick sideways grin, she waited.

  Katie chimed in, “I agree. We can’t treat this mission as anything other than a special ops assignment. If we aren’t a team, then we can’t expect to succeed. Am I right?”

  Logan nodded. “You’re right. I didn’t intend for any of us to feel threatened. Sorry, J.T. Poor choice of words.”

  J.T. shifted, slouching in his chair. “Apology accepted. Look, I get that I’m already dead. I also get that if we aren’t careful, the outcome of this mission can become something worse than we’re facing at present.” His eyes traveled around the table. Most of the people present were not ready to face the demon or his warriors. “Don’t get me wrong. I want him eliminated as bad as you do. We’re just going to have to use some safeguards to achieve such a goal.”

  “I agree. We’re going to have to prepare for some unique possibilities. After all, we’re dealing with a supernatural being.” Duke’s eyes locked with J.T. “Isn’t that right, J.T.?”

  Was Duke explaining his reason for seeking J.T.’s help without saying as much? Moving in, he braced his elbows on the wooden table. “Yeah, that’s right,” J.T began. “Ever heard of a fellow named Dracula? Some things work quite well on vampires, while others don’t. Logan, I’d like to share my safeguard list. The info may help one of you cover my ass sometime.”

  “Agreed.” Logan leaned back, steepling his fingers. “The floor’s yours.”

  For the next thirty minutes, J.T. explained what old wives’ tales concerning warding off vampires were true and which were false. The group listened. Katie even took notes.

  “What you’re saying is, vampires aren’t affected by holy water or garlic so much. But fire and light are death,” she clarified.

  “Yes, exactly. Holy water and garlic have become
nothing more than irritants. The sun’s light, as well as the power of flames, are potent weapons against vampires.”

  “This is good to know. I thought all the old tales about certain things stopping a fanger were the truth. What about wooden stakes to the heart?” Katie asked.

  “You must be dead on with your attack. Otherwise, you have a super pissed off bloodsucker on your hands.”

  “Is there any way to combat the strength of a vampire?”

  “The strength of a vampire is based largely on fuel. By that I mean, if you take away a vampire’s blood source, then you take away the fanger’s strength. A hungry vampire, while pissed off, isn’t a strong vampire. Destroy a vampire’s food source, and you can stop the vampire.”

  “You may have something there, J.T.” Logan sat up straight. “If we removed the blood slaves, we could effectively control the Sultan and his warriors.”

  “Yes, you’re right, Logan. I like the way you think.” J.T.’s expression never wavered. “What did you have in mind, lieutenant?”

  A commotion broke up the next words Logan was about to share. “What the…”

  Aubrie’s Curs began barking in unison at some, as of yet, unseen trespasser. “Probably a deer or coyote,” Aubrie said unconcernedly. “I’ll go take a look.”

  The patio doors opened onto her large deck. Cool air swept in with a chilling winter wind. Aubrie stilled in the doorway.

  “Uh, guys, you better come here,” she called from the dimly lit deck. “Bring a light too.”

  Following the others, J.T. wondered what was lurking in the darkness. Then, he caught the scent in the wind. It hit him full force. “Jessie!”

  There she stood shivering in the darkness.

  “Bring her in,” he rasped. Without waiting, J.T. shoved past the others to grip her hands. “Here, come inside. You’ll freeze out there.”

  ***

  Logan began interrogating her the minute the door closed. Why was she there? Where had she come from? What was she doing spying on the house?

  Insisting she sit down immediately, J.T. rounded on Logan. “Enough,” he snarled. “Can’t you see she needs help?” As Logan backed off, J.T. stopped short of taking Jessie by the arms before bodily removing her from the scene before anyone else got any ideas. Instead, he leaned in close as he wrapped a throw around her shoulders. “What are you doing here?” he whispered.

  Like a magnet, Jessie latched onto J.T.’s arm. “It’s you!” Gratitude dripped from the words. Her eyes darted from him to Logan and back. Fear danced freely over her face.

  “Easy, take a breath. Don’t let Logan get to you. You’re safe.”

  Her shoulders sagged against him.

  “Jessie?”

  Jessie straightened. Licking her lips, she breathed out the words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to turn. What I must tell you…is going to sound crazy. But J.T. I swear, it’s true.”

  “It’s going to be all right.” He patted her hand in reassurance. Examining her face, he missed her feverish grip loosen on his arm. She slipped from his grasp as she crumpled to the kitchen floor. “Jessie!”

  Pulling her back up, he watched her eyes roll in her head. Jessie’s dark hair fell around her face as she went unconscious. Ineptness clutched at his chest.

  “Get her to the couch,” Aubrie ordered as she grabbed a cloth and ran cold water in the sink.

  “I’ll get some ammonia,” Katie hurried after Aubrie.

  J.T. lifted her, almost flying through the opening to the living room. “Jessie, come on, wake up.” Suddenly a tight pain seized his chest, a thudding of some sort. He laid Jessie down on the leather. Seeing her in such a shape wared with the memories of his last two encounters with her. His chest tightened again, and he felt his heart respond. His undead heart? Holding her hand, he rubbed it gently to stimulate the blood flow. His heart pounded in time with the movement of his hands.

  “Here,” Aubrie said as she passed him a cool cloth.

  Katie dropped down beside him. “This should do the trick. Hold her chin,” she directed.

  J.T. obeyed, watching as Katie passed a vile under her nose.

  Jessie jerked away, moaning. When the cloth containing the ammonia passed back under her nose, she shoved at the irritant. Soon, she coughed before shoving at Katie’s hand again. With wide eyes, she shook her head in disgust. “Oh, that’s bad,” she murmured.

  J.T. eased her up. Without thinking, he brushed the hair from her face before tugging at the rumpled jacket bunched around her waist. “Better?”

  She nodded weakly. Her lips wanted to tremble as her bloodshot eyes started to fill. J.T. smiled at her. Jessie’s lips did tremble as she reached out to close over his hand. “J.T.?”

  His dead heart lurched again. His name on her lips was music to his ears. How many nights had he imagined such a miracle? Too many to count. “It’s okay. Here. Drink some water.”

  Taking the water Aubrie passed her, Jessie sipped.

  Her face was still pale, J.T. judged. Her skin remained clammy to the touch. “You got anything stronger, Aubrie?”

  “Sure,” Logan offered. “I’ll get the whiskey.”

  Turning back, he waited for a beat as she moistened her lips again. He could feel her heart racing inside her chest through their contact. The sound of her blood pumping through her veins gave him a moment’s pause. She was here, flesh and blood. Really with him. “How did you find…us?” He’d been about to ask how she had found him. The others were still oblivious to her recent criminal activities. That would remain their secret. Then there was their history together. Should he tell them? Not now, he decided. There would be time for all of that later.

  “She may be going into shock. Here, wrap this around her, J.T.” Katie passed him another throw.

  Focused on erasing the fear in her eyes, J.T. covered her legs before rubbing her arms to stimulate blood flow. How many times had he dreamt of her in the last two years? So many questions surfaced in his jumbled brain. The urge to drill her about her whereabouts almost broke free.

  “Here, drink some of this.” Logan handed Jessie a glass filled with two fingers of bourbon.

  Her graceful hands, dancer’s hands, shook as she took the glass from him.

  “Easy.” J.T. murmured the command as he helped guide the glass to her mouth.

  “Thanks,” she managed when the burn of the liquor subsided.

  At that moment, J.T. fell in love with her all over again. This beauty before him sure could scramble a dead man’s brain. The movement behind him startled J.T. to consciousness once more.

  Logan leaned over. Lowering his voice to a confidential tone, he said, “Aubrie and Katie can take over. I need a word with you, J.T.”

  “Okay,” J.T. growled under his breath in a here-goes kind of way. “Ah, you see, she needs help, right?” His tone brooked no resistance. “I can’t leave her.” He cut a warning glare at Logan. “Not now.”

  Logan, impervious to a fault, glanced in Jessie’s direction. “I have a protection spell over the house. No one else can get in tonight.”

  “Yeah? Well, she can get away.” The sneer for Logan’s benefit exposed the concern J.T. tried so hard to hide. If he didn’t ease up, he’d reveal their past. Unwilling to share too much, J.T. stood slowly.

  “We’ll talk in the kitchen. You can still see Jessie from there.”

  Logan’s tone spoke of a controlled tolerance, one J.T. remembered from Afghanistan. He felt his back molars clench. Consciously forcing them to unclench, he tried for composure. The peace between them would not last long if he didn’t go with the warlock.

  In the kitchen, Logan leaned against the counter. His arms folded across his chest. One long, jean-clad leg crossed over the other in a casual stance. The look he sent J.T. didn’t mimic his body language. “Who is she?”

  J.T.’s throat tightened. He had to stall. His brain, struggling to remember his ploy to keep her safe, stuttered a moment. “The old friend I told you about,
the one I thought the Sultan sent me in a dream. I haven’t seen her in years.” He cut his eyes toward the couch where Jessie sat. “Didn’t know she was in town or alive for that matter.”

  “Why don’t I believe you, bro?” Logan eyed him coolly.

  The anger he’d been holding in check sparked. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you believe, lieutenant. Jessie’s someone I knew a couple of years ago. I’m as surprised to see her as you are,” he snapped.

  Duke stepped into the kitchen and positioned himself between them. “This isn’t going to settle anything. She said she needs help. I think we ought to hear what she has to say.” Glancing from one to the other, he swept a hand toward the living room. “Shall we?”

  J.T. wasn’t dazed anymore by Jessie’s appearance. He was pissed. He left the kitchen, taking a seat beside her in the living room. If an interrogation were brewing, he would stand for her, no matter what.

  Logan sat across from Jessie. His expression remained bland. Duke took a seat next to Logan. J.T. decided the hell with it. He would represent Jessie until he couldn’t anymore. Seated next to her, he resisted the urge to reach out, gathering her hand in his. The vibes coming from her were erratic at best. They proved nothing as far as he was concerned except she was scared and nervous. Logan’s glare spoke of disbelief. Duke remained stoic. The cards seemed stacked against him, but he would see this hand through to the end.

  “What is your complete name?” Logan asked.

  J.T.’s thigh rested against Jessie’s. He willed her with internal vibes like his talent with hypnosis. Something to calm her fears radiated from him, linking the two of them together. How he wished for the chance to hypnotize her.

  Her voice cracked. “Jessie Coulter.”

  “Where do you come from?” Logan’s tone was monotone, but his jaw worked.

  “I…I live in…I don’t have a home,” Jessie said before her eyes dropped to her lap.

  “Why are you here?”

  She lifted her eyes to J.T.’s before meeting Logan’s again. “I had nowhere else to turn.” Her voice hitched. “My…my parents are prisoners of the Sultan.” Stopping, she glanced at the faces watching her. “They’ve been gone for over two years now.”

 

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