Soul Merchant (Isabella Hush Series Book 5)

by Thea Atkinson

  Revealed. I guessed that meant Kindred were able to suss me out by talking to me or if I admitted it. I hadn't needed to; he'd done that just fine with his explanation. Even if he hadn't meant to out me, he'd done it. There was no turning back now.

  I felt safer behind the bar with Fayed, certainly, but his words made my heart squeeze painfully even so.

  If I'd been cloaked by fae magic, it was news to me. And it wasn't welcome.

  "Cloaked?" I said, with a knot in my voice.

  I knew fae magic. No good ever came from it. Not in my experience. I wiggled my toes against the bar and felt my socks stick to something gooey. There hadn't been anything there before. I tried to swallow down my unease that the fae magic might be turning on me from the heels up.

  "You're sure it's fae magic?" I said.

  He didn't look at me when he answered but kept his attention on the vampire on the other side of the bar, who had begun to look decidedly less gorgeous and much more frightening.

  "After the last time," he said without taking his gaze from Cleo's face. "After my kin tried to...well, I couldn't risk you getting hurt again. I pay a guy for a subscription of sorts now."

  He was talking about the time his progeny, Isme, and a swarm of other vampires had attacked me in his bar. She had tricked him into making her. A sorceress turned vampire, who to be honest, was one nasty piece of work. Bad enough that The Morrigan had sent the bitch to Hell for me, swapping her life for mine in a Devil's bargain I didn't ever want to see reneged upon.

  I still didn't know if Fayed was aware I was the reason his progeny was true-dead, but I intended to keep that secret.

  But if he was forking out for my protection because he felt guilty, then I at least owed him the chance to retract it in light of the dangers he was taking on in doing so.

  "Oh Fayed," I said. "You shouldn't do that. Fae magic is never free."

  "I hired a rogue," he said. "A fae with a taste for a certain kind of drink he can only get here. He renews the magic once a month and I water him. You look, smell, and sound like Kindred, to other Kindred."

  "Except now I know," Cleo said with a side glance at me. Her voice fell to a whisper of awe and longing. "And the magic has fallen from you, human."

  She poked me over the bar with a finger as though I was a piece of meat on a grill. I told myself if she stuck her finger in her mouth and made an mmm sound, I was going to holler.

  Loudly.

  Fayed tugged me close, turning so that he faced the door with me pinioned between his two meaty arms. He had to look over his shoulder at Cleo, indicating she would have to go through him to get me. I, however, was facing her, and I could see that she very well might, and very well could.

  I braced myself for a good kicking and screaming bout. Then I tried to work out how far I could run with only one boot on.

  "I told you," Fayed said, interrupting my mental prep. "She's already taken."

  He held his finger against my mouth when I thought to protest. "You might not think you are, Isabella, but trust me. You are mine when you're here. Otherwise, how do you think you'd come and go with such ease?"

  "Fae magic?" I said in a choked voice beneath his finger. "Cloaking?"

  He made a sound beneath his breath that indicated his patience was waning.

  "Just trust me. Running away won't always work. There are some things you just can't run from."

  I didn't relish the thought of being spoken of as a thing a vampire might enjoy over a sanguine martini, but I wasn't stupid. I shut up.

  Cleo narrowed her gaze to little slits of burnished and copper-shadowed eyelids and didn't look the least bit convinced. Or impressed.

  "I could make you give her to me," she said to Fayed

  That thought terrified me.

  "You have age on me," Fayed said. "But where would you go to moan about your lovers if not here, Cleo. No one bothers you here." His tone might as well be warm oil being massaged into a warm body. I could almost hear the perfume in it.

  "I want her," Cleo said.

  "Is she worth not coming here ever again?" he said. "I can't resist your order to give her to you, but I don't have to allow you back."

  "Look," I cut in as I twisted around Fayed's shoulder to catch her eye. I tried to inject a bit of casualness to my tone but fell woefully short. "We were friends just ten seconds ago."

  "Friendly," she said, staring at Fayed pointedly. "Not friends. And that was before I knew you were human."

  I tried to invoke the camaraderie of the last half hour. "Oh, come on," I said. "We were having fun talking about lovers. I'll tell you about a man I know whose circumcision as an adult went horribly but hilariously awry."

  Her tone when she spoke was flat and emotionless. She might have been reciting some lesson from a classroom.

  "Humans who know about us are dangerous. You can't be trusted to be anything except a lovely feed on a rabid stomach."

  Her use of the word rabid instead of empty made me quail. I looked from Fayed's face to Cleo's. He trusted me. Did he think it foolish and misplaced? He'd ordered me to stay away from his bar for my own safety but let me back in when I needed him. He protected me from the other patrons. He'd kept Kelliope at bay when she'd attacked on the day my involuntary initiation into all things supernatural started.

  Trust, however, didn't seem the most relevant word, though.

  I was about as dangerous as a cricket on a hearth. Totally at the mercy of those within. That any vampire would feel threatened by my humanity was laughable. That this vampire could claim fear as a motivating factor for claiming me from Fayed, when she was so utterly and obviously the one with the most power despite her stature, was astounding.

  And yet, that's exactly what she did.

  "She's a threat," Cleo said to Fayed's stubborn back. I noted he refused to turn around to face her now that she had made her intentions known. "You know it as well as I. We don't harbor humans. We use them. We feed from them. Occasionally, we stable them."

  I squeaked at the word stable and she swung her gaze to mine even as she kept addressing Fayed.

  "If you're going to spout arcane rules and morals at me, like I'm an insipid pupil at my lessons, then let's take it all the way to the test."

  She spread her arms out, palms on the bar as she leaned into it. Her face was so close to his shoulder, he must have felt the heat of her breath.

  "Look at me, Fayed," she said, and those black eyes lost all semblance of empathy as the pupils swallowed the irises.

  He shifted, ever so subtly, but enough that he wouldn't have to look over his shoulder at her. If he wanted to, he could catch her eye with a side-glance. It seemed to be all Cleo needed.

  "Give her to me," she said.

  I made a sound like a mouse might make when frightened and took an involuntary step back. The bottles on the shelf beside me clanked together.

  I felt something shift in Fayed's posture.

  "Oh my God," I said, realizing he was indeed about to hand me over. "Seriously? You're going to just pass me over like a bit of prosciutto?"

  "He has to," Cleo said with a lazy smile. "I'm an Ancient One, and the rules demand it."

  Fayed looked down at me, his face filled with regret and angst. "I'm not just handing you over," he said.

  "Damn straight," said a voice from the doorway that was loud enough, harsh enough, and commanding enough that even Cleo balked and took a step backward.

  Fayed's grip trembled on my arms at the sound of it, but I had the feeling it was relief and restraint rather than fear that made it quake.

  I didn't need to turn around to see him to know Maddox's voice. I might have peed myself with relief if everything hadn't shrunk inside to tiny bits of dried tissue.

  "You aren't just handing her over," Maddox said to Fayed. "They're vampire rules, not mine. I don't have to obey."

  His boots scuffed across the floor toward us at a pace that indicated he had all the time in the world to do so. Meanwhile, Fayed'
s grip had gotten even more painful.

  "Let her go, Fayed."

  I craned my neck so I could see over my shoulder.

  Maddox had extended his arm toward me without a flicker of recognition of who I was or that he wanted with me. His expression was a death mask of calm and command. There could be no disobeying. Didn't matter how old Cleo was.

  There was a moment. Just one, where I thought Fayed would fling me toward Cleo. But then, just like that, I felt Fayed's grip go slack.

  "Sweet baby Jesus," I said with a relief I didn't bother hiding.

  I stepped out of Fayed's arms and started backing my way toward Maddox without checking to see if I was on track to meet him. I had eyes only for the gorgeous vampire in front of me.

  Cleo stood like a pillar of salt. Her diminutive stature might have been a glamour for the way she commanded the space she stood in. I thought she was ready to pounce like a leopard might, and I wasn't taking my eyes off that female vamp until I was safely in the alley and could pound my feet as fast as I could against the pave.

  Except I didn't get any further than three steps before Cleo launched herself with a shriek that pierced my eardrums.

  I cringed involuntarily and dropped to a crouch, thinking she might sail over top of me and give me time to elude her.

  And she did. She leapt right over my head.

  Then ran straight for Maddox.

  CHAPTER THREE

  IT ALL HAPPENED SO fast I felt the breeze of her movement catching my hair. At the same time, Fayed grabbed my wrist and yanked me to my feet with an apologetic look on his face that did nothing to make me feel inclined to forgive him. He passed me my boot and I crammed it on, hopscotching in place until I had it secure.

  I noted he kept his mouth set in a tight line and that he avoided looking at Cleo at all.

  I pulled my hand free of his and hitched up my collar where it had fallen down over my shoulder. I shot a glance toward the doorway, toward Maddox.

  "Well fuck me," I said as I noted that Cleo had already wrapped her legs around his waist and was climbing him as though he was a tree.

  I hadn't noticed up to that point that she wore a black split hem turtle neck sweater dress with above-the-knee leather boots. The amount of leg that showed, and the way she used them to hook around Maddox, was enough to convince me she worked a pole to keep fit.

  And Maddox didn't seem to mind one bit. He held her with a soft grip, one that fell a little too close to her hips to be useful at keeping her from doing anything but clinging to him tighter. Maybe that was the point.

  "I need a drink," I said, cringing as one of her muscled legs wrapped around the backs of Maddox's thighs.

  "You and me both," Fayed said.

  With an adroit movement, he leapt over the bar and disappeared behind it. He came up with a bottle of whiskey and a vial that held a tarry looking substance. He clunked the bottle down and then ran the vial under the hot water tap, all the while with his jaw set in a tight clench. Steam rose to cover his face and dissipated quickly when the tap squeaked off.

  I kept wanting to look back at Cleo and Maddox despite my own determination not to, and it was only the sound of a screw cap spinning off its glass threading that freed me from the inclination.

  "Canadian whiskey," he said as he held my gaze. "Good for what ails you."

  He spun the bottle on its rim to show me the label then palmed it with a toss in the air. Whiskey poured from the spout into a Rot Gut Tavern shot glass in a fluid motion that put me in mind of the show bartenders across the city who entertained more than they watered their clients.

  In a quick one-two motion, he upended the shot first and then the vial into his mouth.

  He swallowed with a moan of pleasure.

  I didn't need to be told the vial was blood but at that point, I didn't care.

  Behind me, Cleo was cooing and Maddox was murmuring something unintelligible beneath his breath. Or he was whispering it.

  Fayed flicked his gaze in their direction then pushed the whiskey bottle along the bar toward me without a word. I contemplated it for a long moment. I'd already drank my share already. I couldn't risk being too drunk in this neighborhood.

  "You cut your beautiful hair," Cleo said to Maddox.

  I grumbled non-words to the bar top at the sultry sound to her voice, but it didn't stop me from stealing a look at them again.

  What she'd said was true. The auburn man-bun Maddox always wore was gone, and in its place was a buzzed cut with a stylish bit of flipped bang.

  "Bit woosey if you ask me," I mumbled.

  "Me too," Fayed agreed.

  I directed my stare back at the whiskey. With a resigned sigh, I palmed the bottle and tilted it toward Fayed in salute. He grinned. I grinned. Things felt back to normal. I guess he could be forgiven for almost passing me over to a strange vampire, considering he had no choice and that he kept such liquid heaven in his bar.

  Before I could pour a shot, I heard Maddox chuckling beneath his breath. It was enough to make me steal another glance their way. Cleo whispered in his ear as though she had a secret she wanted only him to hear. Sweet nothings, they would have been called in ancient times, and maybe she'd had first-hand experience with it. Maddox certainly didn't seem to mind.

  When he glanced my way, one corner of his mouth tugged upward.

  He had the gall to waggle his eyebrows at me.

  I flipped him the bird.

  "Virgins," I said out of the corner of my mouth. "They'll do anything to look like they get some."

  Fayed canted his head at me.

  "Virgin?" he said with a note of surprise that made me pretty damn happy in the moment.

  Maddox must have heard it because he extricated himself from Cleo's arms and stepped out of the python grip her legs had of his.

  "Bourbon, Fayed," he said, distracting the vampire from any commentary on his sexual status by giving him a reason to turn away and do what he was bid.

  With Cleo in tow, Maddox approached the bar, telling her with each step, and in that husky, charming voice he had, that it had been a long time since he'd seen her last.

  "Too long," she said, trailing along behind him with her eyes on his ass.

  "He's not circumcised," I said beneath my breath, and Maddox obviously caught just enough of it that as he escorted her in the direction of the barstool she'd just vacated, that his brow lined up into questioning furrows.

  "I was just saying that I've been here an hour," I told him.

  Cleo stabbed me with a long, hard look as Maddox helped her—quite needlessly—onto the stool all the while giving me long, pointed looks.

  Pointed. As though I was somehow being bad company.

  "You know this human, Maddox?" she said then ran her gaze up and down the length of my body.

  When her gaze lingered a little too long on my neck, I told myself that at least the predatory look had disappeared. Not that what I got now was much better. The look she gave me when her eyes returned to my face told me I was inconsequential.

  Invisible.

  Nothing.

  Maddox didn't seem to notice.

  "Ah, you've met Isabella," he said as though he'd just come upon a stranger meeting his filthy kid playing in a puddle.

  "Fayed said she is his," Cleo said with a hint of accent I'd not heard during our earlier friendly chat. I wondered if it was European, and tried to place it as she swiveled on the stool to present her best profile to Maddox. "His, Maddox," she said "And yet you were able to make him give her up."

  Her last sentence was said like a statement, but I read the accusation in the lilting voice. Not that Maddox caught it through all his rapt attention of her ample side boob peeking out through the gap in her sleeve.

  "You know how it works," Fayed interjected, placing a glass of something that did not look like bourbon down onto the bar in front of Maddox. The ice cubes chinked together as they ricocheted off the sides of the glass.

  "I do." Maddox waggled
his fingers at me and when I glared at him, he shrugged. "If Fayed believes she is his when she's here, then it's as true as it can be."

  "But," he said and I waited with fists clenched for him to retract the statement, because he had to. He knew how I felt about being owned.

  "Isabella is her own woman," he said to Cleo. "No one owns her."

  My fingernails eased out of my palm as I shot Cleo a victorious glare. Not that it mattered. She wasn't looking at me at all. Her eyes were for Maddox.

  "Mind you," he went on as he picked up the glass and sniffed it. "Sometimes it would be easier if someone did show her who was boss."

  He sent me a long look over the rim of his glass that traveled from my face to my feet, and then rose again to land on my mouth. He pulled in the drink slowly and noiselessly and he swallowed just as languidly, never taking his eyes from mine until he was at the bottom of the drink.

  Damn, he had that smoldering look down.

  I felt hot and beneath that gaze and thought I could forgive Cleo at least her swooning over the man. He was, indeed, a fleshed over Michael Angelo's David, even if he was a virgin.

  I caught sight of Cleo watching him too. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Maddox's face and there was hunger in it as well as suspicion. Too much of both for my tastes, to be honest. I didn't think Maddox should be left alone with her. She would eat him alive and the poor virgin wouldn't know what hit him until he'd cast his vows to the wind.

  I poured a shot and downed it, then dragged the bottle along the bar top with me as I made my way to the stool I'd been sitting on when we'd drank so companionably together earlier. Cleo's eyes followed my every movement as I climbed onto the stool next to her, claiming it with a territorial lean onto the bar that I figured looked far more confident and casual than I felt. Fayed smirked and busied himself with his point of sale table.

  "And who is this human that she would command two Kindred so easily?" Cleo said Kindred like it had an extra E in it...like, Kindered.

  It was obvious she had given in, but she was far from done with the subject.

  "If you knew Isabella," Maddox said. "You wouldn't have to ask."