Bled & Breakfast (14 page)

“This can’t happen. I won’t let it.”

“Right. Well, good luck with that.” I crossed my arms. My borrowed neck hurt from his fangs and I felt absolutely horrible that I’d put this woman’s body in harm’s way. “I guess you should look at the bright side.”

“What?”

I shrugged. “You’re actually fifty years younger than we thought you were.”

A moment later, a tornado of bright white light swirled around him, obliterating his body from view. And then he vanished into thin air.

I stared at the spot where he’d vanished for a full minute in utter silence. “Note to self: three-hundred-year-old Thierry? Less awesome than expected.”

And here I thought we were going to have a romantic, star-crossed, soul mates moment. Nope. He was just a vampire who wanted to suck my blood.

As if to punctuate that thought, my incorporeal body was launched right out of the one I’d borrowed. I landed ten feet away on my back and looked up at the star-studded sky before I propped myself up on my elbows to see the dark-haired girl.

“What in the heavens?” She glanced around. “What happened?” When she touched her throat, her fingers came away tipped with blood. “Goodness! Have I been bitten by an insect?”

“Yeah, a six-foot-tall mosquito,” I said dryly. Still, other than the neck wound, I was extremely relieved she seemed otherwise unharmed and untraumatized.

I watched as she picked up her Bible and scurried away from the oak tree and back to the moonlit dirt road.

“So, Thierry,” I said out loud. “I figured out the mystery of your disappearance and why you can’t remember a single thing about it. Mission accomplished.”

It was because there was nothing to remember—those years never happened for him.

David said that the hours leading up to and after a timewalker journey would obliterate the traveler’s memories. Since Thierry hadn’t originally asked David to get the timewalker, he wouldn’t remember having it on his person. And David had triggered the timewalker earlier, probably when his eyes had turned red, just before his death.

It was a delayed reaction, but it had worked like a charm.

Right now, Thierry would be standing in this very spot in fifty years, looking around and wondering how the heck he got there.

As for me, I hadn’t gone anywhere.

“Okay, I’m ready to come back to the present.” I turned around in a full circle. “Anytime now, Heather.”

I was met only by silence. Actually, scratch that. Crickets literally chirped.

I’d defied Thierry’s wishes and his better judgment to do this spell—one that came with no money-back guarantee.

One that could keep my spirit trapped in the past forever if I was very, very unlucky. But I wasn’t going to panic. Not yet. This delay didn’t mean something was wrong. I just had to be patient and wait it out.

I walked back to the village and scanned the streets. Maybe while I was still here I could investigate a bit more about these witch hunters and who they were using as their hired witches. The thought disgusted me. Who would ever agree to such a horrible thing?

Two hours later, I was still there, with no further answers.

“Okay, maybe I was wrong.” A nervous gnawing was growing in my incorporeal gut. “Maybe getting back isn’t going to be
quite
as easy as I hoped.”

Yeah, maybe you’re going to be stuck in 1692 as a ghost forever,
my unhelpful inner voice informed me.

Well, that was actually impossible. It would only be 1692 until December thirty-first. Then it would be 1693. And so on. And so on.

So not good.

Already, I was working on my backup plan, which mostly consisted of me possessing another body and getting a witch to help my sorry butt with another time travel spell.

I stood in the middle of the road, thinking hard, before I finally turned, ready to take another walk through the town. Then—
bam
—somebody walked right through me. I gasped at the jarring sensation. It felt as if I’d hit a wall—or rather, as if a wall had hit
me.
My entire body turned to smoke for a moment before it re-formed. I stood there stunned while I tried to gather myself together again. Literally.

The man who’d walked through me paused as if he’d felt something. For him it likely felt as if he’d walked through a cold spot. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction he’d come from.

I stared at him, shocked.

It was Jonathan Malik, the witch hunter.

“How strange,” he said under his breath before continuing on.

Holy crap.

I followed, my feet quickly developing a mind of their own. I couldn’t deny that finding out more about Malik interested me, and not because he was the sexy, deadly, alpha type some women really went for, hoping that their true, pure love might help soften his hard edges and redeem his evil ways.

No, I was just curious what motivated a monster like this, and what he might do in his spare time—when he wasn’t torturing witches for fun. It might give me a better understanding of the darkness I faced more often than I’d like to.

He moved easily through town, his gaze sharp, but his stride wasn’t as swift as Thierry’s had been earlier. It was leisurely.

For some reason, this infuriated me more than anything else.

“You think you’re so tough,” I said to him. “Well, you’re just a man. I’m not surprised you’re stuck haunting Salem now. Must be boring for you. Too bad.”

Not surprisingly, he ignored me completely, as if I weren’t even there.

Suddenly, I realized where he was headed. There was a dark-haired woman up ahead, and his gaze fixed on her as he followed her through this mazelike village.

She didn’t seem aware of him.

Just like with Thierry earlier, a predator had fixed his sights upon unsuspecting prey. My hackles went up, my immediate need to protect something smaller and weaker from something dark and malicious. I scanned the area to see how I might be able to raise the alarm, but no one was nearby.

He caught up to her and grabbed her wrist, halting her steps. She turned to face him with surprise.

But then a smile stretched across her face.

“Malik,” she whispered. Her gaze then became guarded. “You said it was unsafe for us to see each other.”

“I tried, but I can’t stay away from you.” He raised a dark eyebrow. “It seems you’ve managed to bewitch me.”

“Not with any spell.” Her smile returned as he gathered her into his arms and kissed her passionately, pressing her up against the side of a stone mill.

I stared at them with shock. Not because they were a couple living in Puritan times who were obviously romantically involved, but because I now recognized the woman.

It was Raina Wilkins.

I stared at her, stunned. How was this possible?

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this wasn’t Raina, but instead an ancestor of hers that looked identical.

“Raina, your beauty brings me back to you every time,” Malik breathed. “I need you.”

It could be an identical ancestor with the same name.

Even I had to admit that was stretching things. Something bizarrely supernatural was going on here, and all I could do was stare.

“I need you, too.” Her voice broke. “I hate this, Malik. I hate it all so much. Why can’t we run away? No one has to know.”

“You know why. I must stay and finish my work here. The jail is full of the accused.”

Her expression shadowed. “Leave your work behind. You said you loved me.”

“I do love you.”

Moonlight lit her beautiful face but also showed the pain in her blue eyes. “Then it’s not right.”

“You’re absolutely right. It’s not.”

Her expression tensed as if his words were like a slap. “Don’t say that.”

His lips curved. “You are a woman who doesn’t know what she wants. Either it’s me or it’s freedom from this colony of fools.”

“There are many here I consider friends, family.”

“So you stay. So we can be together. You’ve been endlessly valuable to me.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Don’t remind me of what I’ve done to help you.”

I literally gasped out loud at this. Raina was one of the helpers, the horrible witches assisting the evil witch hunters.

Malik’s gaze burned into hers. “When it’s all over, when the darkness is purged from this place, only then can I move on. With you. I promise we’ll be together.”

She stared at the ground as tears dripped down her pale cheeks.

“You still want that, don’t you, Raina?”

Her gaze lifted to meet his. “Of course. I want that more than anything. I want
you
more than anything.”

He touched her chin and lifted it so she’d meet his eyes. “Then there’s nothing more to say, is there?”

She shook her head. “Nothing more.”

“That’s my Raina. Today, tomorrow, forever.”

“Forever,” she murmured as he kissed her again.

Then another wall hit me head on, stealing my breath completely.

My vision went nearly black as the storm landed right on top of me and obliterated my view—the tornado of the world swirling before my eyes. For a terrifying moment it was as if the floor fell away from beneath my feet and I dropped like a penny thrown into a wishing well.

And then my vision lightened, cleared, and suddenly I was staring into Heather’s face.

She was slapping me. Hard.

“Sarah, snap out of it. Sarah!”

I grabbed her wrist before she struck again. “Stop.”

“She’s back!” Her expression lit up, shifting from fearful to joyful. “Thank God you’re back! Your husband was ready to tear this entire town apart if you didn’t open up your eyes again.”

“My husband . . .” My gaze shifted to Thierry, standing next to Heather, his face grave and pale, his gaze intense. I shifted a little on the hard sofa. Someone—probably Heather—had tucked a pillow behind my head.

“Are you all right?” he demanded.

I licked my dry lips. Seeing him now, after dealing with him in the past . . . it was more jarring than I would have guessed. “I—I think I’m fine. How long was I gone?”

“You weren’t gone. You were unconscious. For half an hour.”

Right. My body had been here the whole time. “Half an hour? Is that all?”

“All? It was a small eternity.” There was a tenseness to his words, like he was barely able to control his tone. “How long was it for you?”

“A few hours.” I shook my head. My limbs tingled; every one of them felt as if they’d fallen asleep and now the blood was rushing back. When I was able, I shakily got up from the sofa.

“It worked?” Heather asked.

“Perfectly.” I nodded, then glanced at Thierry. “I was there. I saw you.”

This did nothing to remove his strained expression. “And what did you see?”

It was almost funny now. “I tried to give you a message by possessing a body.”

“A message?” His brows drew tightly together. “What did I say to you? What did I do?”

I laughed at that, slightly hysterical. “You bit me.”

Then my head spun like I was still stuck in the time travel theme park from hell, and I sank to the ground. This time when everything went black, I knew it was a good old-fashioned bout of unconsciousness.

I could totally work with that.

T
his time when I opened my eyes, someone wasn’t slapping me across the face. That was progress.

“You’re awake.” It was Thierry.

I blinked a few times until he came into focus. He stood next to the bed where I currently lay, his arms crossed, his expression strained but relieved.

“How long was I out?”

“Not long. Heather and Rose managed to bring you up here since, unfortunately, I couldn’t help. How do you feel?”

Good question. I pushed
myself up on my elbows and took a quick assessment. “I feel okay. I think.”

He nodded, his eyes twin storm clouds. “Before you fainted, you said I bit you. Was that a joke? I can’t always tell when you’re trying to be funny.”

I held back a quip about me
always
being delightfully hilarious. “I wasn’t joking this time.”

His face was stone and he nodded once, then crossed to the window to look outside. “Tell me what happened, Sarah. All of it.”

I did. I told him everything from the moment I realized where I was, to seeing him, listening in on his meeting with David, and the discussion of the amulet.

“What does the amulet do?” I asked, not for the first time.

He sent a short glance over his shoulder. “You say he didn’t have it.”

“You’re evading my question.”

“Did he do something to corrupt my memory, since I don’t remember this meeting at all?”

He
was
evading my question. I could take a hint. I continued to tell him about the timewalker and then David’s murder.

He turned fully around to face me. “You can’t be serious.”

“About the timewalker or you treating David’s neck like a Pez dispenser? I’m serious about both. That’s why you disappeared. That’s where you went. No fifty years of nasty behavior covered up by amnesia. They simply didn’t happen, but you just don’t remember that you time traveled.”

I could tell he wanted to argue with me, to deny that this could be the truth, but then he nodded once. “If you say this happened, then it happened. But I thought timewalkers were only a myth.”

I shrugged. “I thought the same about vampires once.”

“If this is true, it must have been destroyed or stolen while I was still coming out of this magic-induced daze. What happened when you say I spoke with you? What led to me”—his expression shadowed—“biting you?”

I told him, his face and posture growing more tense with every word I spoke. I didn’t leave anything out. Me possessing the girl, him about to attack the other girl, me stopping him—including my handy use of the Bible as weapon. I watched his expression carefully, since every word I spoke chipped away at his carefully constructed stone exterior.

“I could have killed you,” he said softly.

“But you didn’t. However, it’s more proof that your thirst for blood . . .” I swallowed hard, and what I’d been considering since earlier bubbled up inside of me like a supernatural soufflé. “You don’t have it anymore, do you? Your thirst? It’s gone now that you’re having this out-of-body experience, right?”

Thierry nodded, holding my gaze. “It’s completely gone.”

I swung my legs around and out of the bed to sit on the edge, expecting a wave of dizziness, but there was nothing. “What does it feel like?”

He didn’t speak for a moment. “Being free from a dark compulsion I’ve fought against for as long as I can remember? It’s as if a horrible curse has finally been lifted.”

Of course he felt free. To deal with a blood addiction for all this time and then have it taken away . . . it had to be a wonderful feeling.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t exactly be happy for him, since this was only temporary. If
we succeeded in finding the answer to shift his spirit back into his body, he’d have to deal with that constant thirst once again.

“So you were successful. You learned one of my dark truths. You faced me at one of the bleakest times of my existence, when my self-involved obsession with magical trinkets sent me on quests to the far reaches of the earth.”

He didn’t like that I’d seen him that way, but it didn’t change anything. In fact, it changed nothing at all with this situation and with those who were also interested in Thierry’s past. “And it doesn’t even matter, does it? The Ring isn’t going to take my word for anything. Only if we hand this amulet over to them tied in a pretty ribbon would they leave you alone, if that’s what they’re really after.”

He gave me a wry look. “You’re learning.”

I stood up. While I’d felt rather accomplished at surviving my trip to the past—for many reasons—we had to keep moving forward on our lengthy to-do list. No time to lick our wounds and feel sorry for ourselves that things weren’t perfect. Fact of life: Things were
never
perfect. “Tell me what happened with the necromancer. Your contact was calling when I took a time travel nosedive. What did he say?”

Thierry’s lips thinned. “I had Heather call him back.”

“And?”

“There is good news and bad news.”

His face was frustratingly unreadable again. “Good news, please?” I prompted.

“The necromancer could have done the job. It was within her abilities. And she would have been able to get here in time.”

My heart lifted. “So what’s the bad news?”

“She was murdered last week by a zombie she’d raised from the dead.” He raised his hand. “And before you ask, yes, brains were involved.”

I sat down on the side of the bed again, heavily enough that the springs creaked, disappointment crashing over me. “Damn.”

“We’ll figure something else out.”

My gaze snapped to his. “I already have: Markus Reed. He can help us.”

Thierry’s expression tightened. “No, he can’t.”

A frustrated sound escaped from the back of my throat and I leapt back up to my feet. “So what happens in two days when we can’t figure this out on our own and you’re stuck without a body forever?” Then something occurred to me, an idea I normally would have dismissed without a second thought. “Wait a minute. Is that what you want? Now that you’re free from your bloodlust, do you
want
to stay this way?”

Before he could answer me, a roar filled the air. It came from down the hall.

“Oh, my God. That’s Owen!” I ran out of the room.

In our original room, where I’d handcuffed the vampire possessing Thierry’s body, things were not looking good. Owen turned his furious gaze on me—his eyes were black and filled with hunger and outrage.

“Let me out of here!” he snarled. “I’m dying of thirst!”

I shot a worried look at Rose. “Run out of garlic?”

The old woman wrung her hands, standing a few feet away from the bed. “I have more. I didn’t want to keep giving it to him since I was afraid too much might damage him. I thought I could reason with him.”

“Yeah, reason with a thirsty vampire. Good luck with that.” I went directly to the minifridge and pulled out a glass container, unscrewed the top, and brought it over to Owen.

“That won’t help him for long,” Thierry cautioned by the doorway.

“It’ll buy a little time.” I held the container to Owen’s lips. “Drink. This should hit the spot.”

He drank. Greedily. Relief filled his black eyes and he literally whimpered.

So much for my ready supply of blood. It wouldn’t be long before random necks started to look appealing to me, too. Another of many bridges I’d cross when I had to, even if the trolls beneath them were starting to get bigger and uglier.

“Better?” I asked once he’d drained the container. I winced in sympathy to see that his wrists were chafed from yanking at the silver handcuffs. Even though Thierry’s skin healed rapidly, it would still be painful.

“You have to release me,” he said pleadingly. “Come on, Sarah. Be a pal.”

“Let me think.” I tapped my chin, pretending to consider his request. “
No.
You’re not going anywhere. In fact,
you’re
the one who’s going to be a pal and get out of Thierry’s body right now.”

His brows drew together. “I can’t. I tried. Really, I did.”

“Yeah, sure you did.”

“I did! I can’t live like this. I thought I could, but . . .” He cocked his head to the side. “Although, I am feeling
way
better now. That blood really helped. Maybe I’m okay again.”

Thierry crossed his arms over his chest. “The hunger will return. If you’re not strong enough, it will overwhelm you. And before long you will find a way out of those handcuffs and out of this house and you will cause harm to innocents. Hunger is an incredible motivator.”

Owen glared at him. “You are a serious buzz kill—you know that, de Bennicoeur?”

“Does the truth sting, Owen? I know you tend to avoid any pain, seeking only pleasure in life. This must be a severely unpleasant experience for you.”

Owen mumbled something then that could not be repeated in polite company.

I had to cringe at the reminder that this was what Thierry dealt with all the time. I looked at him over my shoulder. “How have you handled it, then, if it’s so torturous?”

“You’ve seen for yourself more than once, past and present, that I, too, weaken when it overwhelms me. I can only imagine how it is for him, one lacking in any discernable personal restraint.”

“Sure, keep insulting me, you pompous windbag,” Owen grumbled. “Whatever. I’m used to it.”

I ignored their squabbling and studied Owen’s stolen face. He did not look well at all. This possession wasn’t turning out to be the dream come true he’d originally believed it was—a handsome new body he could wear for the rest of eternity. No, Thierry’s body came with a warning label: Use at your own risk.

So Owen wasn’t staying in the body of his own free will. We had no necromancer to pitch in and help. Thierry would have an incorporeal aneurism if I went against his wishes and contacted Markus or the Ring.

So now what?

“There has to be another way to fix this,” I said.

“There is,” Rose replied.

I shot a look at her. She’d stood there patiently at Owen’s side watching the three of us discuss matters. “What is it? Please, I am
so
open to suggestions at this point, you have no idea.”

“Well, I know you wanted to find a necromancer, but that’s basically a powerful witch, isn’t it? One who specializes in both life and death magic? Therefore, you need to find yourself an alpha witch—one who can do all kinds of magic. Unfortunately, there are none in Salem.”

“An excellent suggestion,” Thierry said, nodding, “but there are no alpha witches in all of North America. They were destroyed by witch hunters decades ago.”

“Wrong, both of you,” I whispered. “There is one here.”

Owen strained against his handcuffs. “Who?”

I could barely breathe. “Raina Wilkins.”

“What?” Rose exclaimed. “But Raina isn’t an alpha witch. She’s—well, she’s a witch, certainly, but not a very powerful one.”

“She is. I saw it myself.” I quickly explained what I’d seen in the past—of Raina and Malik’s illicit romance, and Raina’s assistance to the witch hunters, making her an enemy and a traitor to her own kind.

The woman who looked no more than thirty had been alive for well over three hundred years. To me, that screamed alpha witch.

“Impossible,” Rose breathed. “Witches are human. They age just as anyone else does.”

“Not always,” Thierry said. He glanced at me. “I told you that regular vampire blood is potent to some witches’ spells, and you saw for yourself the truth of that in the grimoire. Master vampire blood can be used in even more powerful spells, including one for immortality, which has been known to a rare few.”

The pieces clicked for me. “David said that a witch imprisoned you, bled you. Was it to do a spell like this?”

His expression shadowed. Another of his closely guarded secrets had been laid bare for me to see. “Yes, among other plans for my blood, she wanted to live forever. However, she didn’t succeed.”

A shiver went down my spine. David said that Thierry had killed her—
and
her husband.

I studied the face of
my
dangerous husband, equally disturbed by his dark acts as I was by the thought of somebody using his blood for their own gain. How much pain and suffering had he been subjected to in all of his years of life? I wished I could take even a fraction of it away, erase it like those fifty missing years.

“So Raina’s found an eternal fountain of youth,” I said. “But it’s a spell that needs to be maintained, I’m guessing. Not just a one-stop beauty shop.”

He nodded. “Correct.”

“She could be the reason for the disappearances of those vampires. They were all masters. All to maintain her youth, like walking, talking, fanged Botox.”

“It’s possible.”

“Unbelievable,” Rose said, disgusted. “If this is all true, that woman gives a bad name to every witch who’s ever existed.”

“You’re right. Raina Wilkins has basically sold her soul in order to stay young and beautiful forever after helping her witch hunter boyfriend kill others of her kind. She’s evil.” My breath caught and my gaze flicked to his. “But that evil witch is the only one who can fix you.”

Silence fell in the room before Owen began to laugh.

I shot him a look. “What is so funny?”

“Me and Raina had a thing recently.”

“A thing?”

“Never knew I was sleeping with an older woman. She sure hid it well. Huh.
That’s
what’s so funny.”

I failed to see the humor in Owen’s cougar revelations. I glanced at Thierry, not surprised that he was now glaring at me. “Problem?”

“You’re staying away from that woman.” He enunciated each word precisely, so there would be no mistaking his meaning.

“So give me another option.”

“We’ll contact Markus like you suggested.”

This time
I
was the one to laugh. “This is the straw that broke the vampire’s back, is it? Me seeking out an alpha-witch-slash-murder-suspect is enough for you to agree that Markus is not the worst evil in this equation.”

He scrubbed a hand over his forehead, giving me a frustrated look. “I’m trying to find a middle ground here and prevent you from getting yourself killed.”