Heroes (15 page)

What a glorious week it would be.

Then she’d never see him again, and that would be awful. Well, never see him was possibly an exaggeration, but they could never be together again as lovers, and that was awful.

And Geoff Sterling really had her rattled if she was considering a scenario where all she had to do was exactly what she wanted for the amount of time it would take to get Sterling out of her head, and out of town as well.

The things he’d said, the things Sterling had done—kissing another vampire, for Goddess’s sake! Maybe the Scrolls of Silk did make you go blind. Crazy, for sure. Geoff Sterling was crazy.

Worse, he was the snake holding out the apple. How did snakes hold out apples? With their fangs, she supposed. And Geoff Sterling had certainly extended his fangs when he kissed her. She’d felt them when their tongues twined and—

She hadn’t remembered that she’d kissed Sterling back until this moment, and the memory sent a shiver she told herself was disgust through her. Had to be disgust, because she was too sated from making love with Jebel for it to be anything more intimate.

She sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Jebel asked. His head was resting on her breasts, and the way his breath brushed across a nipple stirred warmth inside her once more.

“I want you again,” she told him. This was the truth, even if it wasn’t the truth that bothered her.

“But we have things to do,” Jebel finished for her. With that, of course, he rolled off her and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Jebel wasn’t much for cuddling. “There’s coffee.”

“I know.” She propped herself up on her elbows, and took a moment to appreciatively look at the length of his back and the width of his shoulders. “Smelled it when I woke up. Perfect aphrodisiac. Of course, it gets cold while we’re fooling around.”

“We weren’t fooling, and it’s in an insulated carafe.”

“You never used to use words like
carafe.
”

He grunted, then reached for the carafe on the bedside table, only to stop the motion and rub his shoulder. He turned his head to look at her. “You never used to be a biter.”

She laughed. “Uh, Jebel—”

“Thought you were going to eat me alive for a second, sweetheart. That wasn’t Little Mary Sunshine sex we were having.”

Char fluttered her eyelashes at him in mock innocence. “You know very well I am not a man-eater, Mr. Haven. Not that type of girl, at all.”

He continued rubbing his shoulder, though she knew very well the bite mark had already healed. “Uh-huh. Have I just lost my virginity?”

At least he didn’t seem upset at her having bit him. “You were never a virgin.”

He chuckled, and nodded, and put his hand over her breast. “Does this mean we’re engaged?”

Char sat up, pushed pillows behind her back, took a cup of steaming coffee from Jebel with her right hand, and wiggled the fingers of her left. “I haven’t seen a ring yet. And I haven’t—” She saw the sudden look of amusement in his eyes, and found herself flustered. “I know this has never happened before. It was only a little. Harmless, really.”

“Major rush, sweetheart. It’s not going to turn me, is it?”

Of course he knew better than that. He was only teasing, but Char still felt compelled to explain, “You have to drink my blood for that. Mutual transfusions. I should have asked before I bit, but—”

“Heat of the moment.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

“Heat of passion,” she answered. “I’m—hungry.”

“Should have ordered a steak along with the coffee.”

“Hungry for you,” she asserted. Firmly. Maybe too firmly, because a certain speculative interest entered his gaze. “And I had really dirty dreams last day,” she added.

“So, you spent the day fooling around while I was out working. Sweet life you have, McCairn.”

She’d been working, but she didn’t want to tell Jebel about it. Not because of Geoff Sterling, but because of the Scrolls of Silk. It seemed to her that the less anyone knew about these things, the better. So instead of bringing up her own activities, she asked, “What were you up to today?”

“Looking at the Scrolls of Silk among other things,” he answered, casual as could be.

She would have jumped out of her skin, if it was possible while conscious. She did jump off the bed. Standing on the opposite side of the room from Jebel, she demanded, “What?”

He rose and turned to look at her, naked, tattooed, and quite calm. “I was also looking for the missing Enforcer of the City. We have a lot to talk about, Charlotte.” He watched her steadily, but with certain wariness beneath the calm. “But I suspect you know that.”

Chapter 13

BEN WASN’T QUITE sure where he went to sleep, but he was certain this was not the place where he should be waking up. He vaguely remembered the scent and feel of leather. The coolness beneath him now felt like concrete. The smoothness that completely covered him was the texture of satin. It was an odd, disturbing combination. He resisted the impulse to move, to throw off the cloth that covered him. When he opened his eyes, he discovered the covering was striped in pink and orange. His sensitive night vision made him aware that the room beyond was brightly lit. He stayed quiet for now because he knew he was not alone. He was aware of mortal breath, a heartbeat, and the flow of warm blood. He could hear movement as well, and a low, almost subvocal muttering.

Ben felt like he’d been drugged. His head ached, his memory was fuzzy, and he felt weak. How the hell did you drug a vampire? Who had done it, and why? Anger flared through him at the thought anyone would dare touch him. He snarled silently, and felt the prick of hunting fangs pressing on upper and lower lips before his jaw lengthened into a sharp muzzle to accommodate the growth of razor-sharp teeth.

It was hard to think through the weakness, harder to think through the transforming anger, but Ben managed to catch hold of his impulses. He stayed still. He brought his body back into mortal form. He took a few deep breaths, and made himself think. There was a current of energy in the air, surrounding him. He recognized where the weakness came from now. Who’d put a spell on him?

Martina. Her face drifted through his consciousness, all smug and bright-eyed with fanatical self-assurance. Had she done something to him? He hated her, but the truth was, she was barely aware of his existence. She didn’t believe anyone but the Enforcers could pose a threat to her.

Who then?

What had he done last night? When he tried to remember, a fog rose up to blanket his thoughts. Aware now that this was a spell, Ben bent his will against it. He breathed the fog in like cigarette smoke and forced it to dissipate within him. He was a creature made out of magic, after all. Now. What had actually happened?

He’d given a spell book to Reese. Why hadn’t he thought of that first? Because Reese had lulled him into a false sense of security. Or his own hormones had done that for Reese. They’d left the bar, gone back to Morgan Reese’s dressing room. They’d talked. He’d talked more than Reese. Told him too much? Reese had been very pleased with the gift of the spell book. Far more than Ben had been. It was meant only as a gift, to earn Reese’s trust, to please him, to impress him. Why would Reese use it against him?

Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Reese had tried out a spell, and it had gone wrong. The result was that Ben woke up confused and feeling like shit. Ben finally noticed that he wasn’t restrained in any physical way. Reese had moved him, thrown a piece of cloth over him. That probably had a logical explanation. Maybe someone came knocking on the dressing room door during the day, and Reese had to quickly stash the body of a sleeping vampire before he answered the knock.

Logical. Reasonable. Sensible. Ben didn’t quite believe it, and decided it was time to stop speculating and find out what was going on for himself.

The satin clung to him as he sat up, so he had the satisfaction of ripping the cloth apart with slightly extended claws.

Reese’s back was to Ben. The sound of tearing fabric brought the mortal whirling around to face Ben. As their gazes met, Ben became aware that he was looking at Reese through the bars of a cage.

Ben laughed. It hid his disappointment in the man he was going to make his companion. It hid his anger. “So much for playing nice,” he said.

He reached for the bars. Reese’s smile was a warning, but Ben’s fingers closed on the burning cold metal before he could draw them back. His howl of pain mingled with Reese’s laughter.

Ben pulled his hands back and looked at the burn marks on his palms. “Maybe you should have mentioned that,” he said from between gritted teeth.

Reese wiped a tear of amusement from the corner of his eye. “And missed your reaction? Wish you’d screamed longer,” he added. “Pain and suffering come in handy.”

“Really? For what?”

“Magic. Building magical energy.”

“Where’d you hear that?”

Reese patted the spine of the notebook he held cradled in his arms. “In here. In the book you gave me.”

Ben glared at Reese, and the notebook, and damned himself for a complete fool. He might not think much of magic, but it was real. Reese had inborn power, and Ben had given the mortal the keys to the treasure chest of the dark arts.

Reese came closer, but not so close that Ben could lunge at him through the bars. “Amazing how things respond to magic,” he said, looking at the cage. “It’s a flimsy thing, built to be collapsible, but with only a few words and a bit of concentration, I’ve made it a cage for a vampire.” He laughed again, the sound low and full of genuine amazement. “A real vampire. When you admitted to it last night, I thought you were crazy. Even feeling the power—” He gestured with one hand across the room where the red jewel and gold cup sat on the polished black marble coffee table. He continued to clutch the book tightly to his chest. “Look at that thing.”

Ben glanced at his other gifts to Reese. The gold cup looked somehow brighter, richer than the shining object he remembered. The jewel—it wasn’t just gleaming with the fire of a huge, multifaceted ruby anymore. It wasn’t reflecting light, but glowing with its own inner fire. And waves of heat shimmered the air around it.

“It looks bigger,” Ben said.

“It reacts to magic. I’ve been doing a lot of magic while you were sleeping.” He glanced toward the door, then toward the ceiling. “I’m going to have to make you scream again.”

Ben laughed. “There is a lot of screaming in one of our futures.”

Reese ignored the threat. “Dark magic requires pain.”

“Yes,” Ben agreed with Reese. “Pain, fear, and death will make you into a vampire. Believe me, I will give you a great deal of pain and fear before I let you use the spell that will bring you rebirth.”

Reese focused his attention back on Ben. “You promised me immortality last night.”

“I still intend to give it to you.” Ben gestured toward the cage bars, but carefully didn’t touch them. His palms were healing, but they still hurt. He wasn’t going to injure himself if he could talk his way out instead. “I admire your initiative—your experimentation—but you really don’t want me pissed with you.”

Reese gave him a look that was downright coy. “You’re not pissed at me now?” Before Ben could answer, Reese turned toward the door. “Well,” he said mildly. “You will be in a moment.”

Ben felt her coming before she reached the door. Frantic, afraid for him, protective. Emotions guaranteed to make her careless as she rushed to her lover’s aid. Ben didn’t know what Reese intended to do to his companion, but Ben wasn’t going to let it happen.

He grabbed the bars, twisting the freezing metal with all his strength as the door opened. At the same time he shouted through the rising pain. “Get out of here, Clare!”

He didn’t know if she heard him, or responded to the order. The world went bright, searing red. Ben dropped hard onto his knees, and the world went black. It lasted only a moment. He came back to consciousness in time to catch himself before slumping completely onto the concrete slab. Ben hissed as his burned palms hit the rough flooring, but he pushed himself up, surging to his feet with supernatural speed.

Reese had the notebook open. He was speaking swiftly, softly. Ben couldn’t make out the words, but the sounds hurt his ears. The temperature in the room rose as Reese spoke the incantation. Clare’s back was pressed against the closed door. Her eyes were on Ben, wide with fear. Sweat covered her as she strained to move.

Ben hated seeing her like that. Hated knowing he was the cause of her distress. “Stop it,” he called to Reese. “Leave her alone or I’ll rip your fucking heart out.”

Reese did shut up, but Ben knew it had nothing to do with the threat. It was because Reese had completed the spell.

The magician closed the notebook, but still held it close as he turned back to Ben. “Rip my heart out? What an interesting thing to say. Your girlfriend can speak,” he added. “But she can’t move. She can’t help you, but at least you can have a conversation while I get ready.”

“Ready for what?” Ben demanded. He had the feeling Reese planned to put on a magic show, but not one that had anything to do with the stage tricks that made him famous.

Once Reese was gone out through a different door, Ben asked Clare, “You okay?”

Her eyes were wild. “No.”

He tried to send reassurance through their psychic link, but doubted anything but Reese’s psychic powers worked inside this room.

“I should have come sooner. I should have helped you sooner.”

Clare’s eyes and voice held so much guilt and self-loathing, it turned Ben’s stomach. Right now he hated himself, hated the way he’d bound her to him. He’d once been bound to Alice. That was the way of the vampire life. That didn’t always make it right. Not when it put Clare in danger.

“I should be the one protecting you,” he told her. “I got myself into this. You warned me about Reese. I should have listened.”