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Authors: Susan Sizemore

BOOK: Primal Cravings
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His eyes were glazed, fixed on the mirror. What was he seeing in the reflections?

“Burning.” His voice was a rough, confused whisper.

“With embarrassment,” she said. She tapped a finger against his cheek, barely managing not to turn the touch into a caress. “Are you with me? Get it together.” She got to her feet, adjusted her clothing some more. She shook in reaction, could barely stand.

Damn! The man made her feel fine!

The man was a vampire, and they were in public.

She looked at his rumpled clothes. “You’re going to need another suit.”

He finally looked from the mirror to her. Fear was fading out of his dark eyes. “You’re all right.”

“More than all right. But I wouldn’t be surprised if the salespeople have fled the scene. And called the police.”

He touched her forehead. “No one here will remember a thing.”

“Except us.”

“Not if you don’t want to remember.”

Was this an effort to be kind? Or an effort to blow her off? Of course, she was to blame for this happening with letting her horny imagination get out of hand.

“My bad,” she said.

He glanced back at the mirrors. “You aren’t the only one with a frenzied imagination.” He looked around. “You didn’t notice anything burning while we—?”

“No,” she cut him off. “Brainwash the staff, and pick out a new suit,” she said. She went to the doorway and grabbed her shopping bags. “I’m going to wait in the car.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Just because a thing can be done, does not mean it should be done.”

“Of course it does. Knowledge is for using.”

“You are going to destroy the world because you can?”

“I will join the worlds! It can be done!”

“I know it can be done. It’s my research you’ve stolen for this madness. It can’t be done safely. It shouldn’t be attempted. Blowing holes in universes is a Bad Thing.”

“Doors. We will walk through those doors here, where the universes are already trying to come together. We will bring back what we want from those places mirroring us. We will change our universe to our own specifications. Or we will step into a place more perfect than ours and become its rulers.”

“You don’t know that those changes will be the ones you’re trying for. Don’t do this. It’s far too dangerous.”

“That was what some said when I worked on the Manhattan Project. I laugh when I recall the fools who thought detonating a nuclear bomb would burn the atmosphere and the world would end. It didn’t happen, did it?”

“This time it will. Trust me.”

“You are the one in chains, Leon.”

“I’m wearing handcuffs, Gary. Don’t be so melodramatic.”

Leviathan stood with his back to the pair of bickering old magicians. He looked up the tunnel out of the cave, hating being in a cave in the first place. He hated being safe, being hidden. He’d spent too much time being hidden.

There was a town out there, and delicious blood called to him from the mortals out there. Tourists came and went here, even in winter, hunting for ‘power vortexes’. They had the right location, but no true understanding of the real power which could be drawn from the earth here. While the tourists meditated alone on the isolated hilltops, Leviathan had no trouble picking them off. If a few of his snacks died, well, they were outsiders in the town. Outsiders came and went. He was anxious to go out and hunt the night, to get away from the old men. He’d sent his blood slave away because the Cave magician didn’t want more people hiding here. The Cave wizard also claimed he needed Leviathan to spend more time in this hole, to build up the place’s psychic shielding. It sounded like bullshit to Leviathan.

The mortals sat behind him, on opposite sides of a table that tilted on the rough stone floor. The table was set between the wall that was growing a door, and the tall mirror which reflected a great many invisible things. To look for long into the mirror or at the wall caused even Leviathan disorientation and a terrible headache. He kept his eyes averted as much as he could.

He wanted to block his ears as well right now, to demand that they shut up. But, the truth was, these ridiculous conversations were a kind of interrogation, and Gary the Cave Wizard sometimes drew useful information from the prisoner. It would have been easier if Leviathan simply ripped the Tower magician’s mind apart for everything they needed. It certainly would have been fun. But, no, the imperious Cave magician said that wouldn’t do, that Leviathan could not possibly understand and translate the information once he had it. At least he’d been allowed to rip out the spell to find Yakov.

Leviathan was forced to agree about not understanding magic, but he hated his ally’s arrogance. Leviathan flexed his fingers, letting his claws appear. He glanced back at the Cave wizard, imagined sinking those claws into the old mortal. Someday soon….

“People have fallen through the thin spots between universes, but those were accidents, a type of time travel. Bringing someone from another universe on purpose—”

“Is exactly what I’m going to do!” Leviathan shouted at the prisoner. “Tribe Leviathan will be whole. Melchor will return to us, and Yakov will be by my side. Our Tribe will rule. This world. As many worlds as we wish.”

“I don’t see why you think this Melchor from an entirely different universe would want to be by your side,” the prisoner said. “There are infinite numbers of each of us in infinite universes, each living their own lives. If this universe’s version of Melchor died in our here and now, you can’t get him back.”

Leviathan started toward the prisoner, intent on ripping his throat out. The Cave wizard put himself between Leviathan and his prey. “Calm down,” he urged. “I’ll get your brother back for you. Leon doesn’t have the strength of will to contemplate what can be done with the right magic. My magic. I found Yakov for you, didn’t I?”

“With my spell,” the prisoner said.

Leviathan sensed the Cave mortal’s thoughts. This was no effort to distract Leviathan away from punishing or killing the prisoner. Carl truly believed what he said about his powers, that he was the one Leviathan must listen to. He was not making idle promises. His own professional pride was at stake here.

“The spell found him,” Leviathan acknowledged.

But had Carl truly returned Yakov to him? The spell had found Yakov, but—

“He isn’t looking for me,” Leviathan said. “He’s distracted. He’s fighting his own nature.”

“There’s probably a girl involved,” Leon said. “That’s why I’ve always stayed celibate. Introduce sex into magic and—“

“Of course there’s a woman involved!” Carl said. “One full of magical energy. She’s to be the sacrifice that will tear away the walls between worlds.” He looked intently at Leviathan. “Let Yakov have the woman. He’ll bring her to us. He’ll be the one to offer up her magic. You and your brother will drink her blood together.”

This image was powerfully appealing.

“All right,” Leviathan growled. “I hate this waiting, but all right.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“I do not know everything,” Dee protested, between sips of a thick and creamy caramel malt. The icy coldness sliding smoothly down her throat only served to enhance all her other heated senses.

Piper took a bite of a rare—no onions—hamburger. He was seated closely beside her in the cafe booth. Too close, she would have said a couple of days ago, but not close enough for her now. He dabbed a bit of pink juice from the hamburger off his chin, and she almost shivered with longing. Why was the notion of licking his face so erotic?

Maybe it was only hunger. Except that the same shiver occurred when their fingers touched as they took fries from the plate they shared. They’d stopped at the first eatery they’d come to, which turned out to be an old-fashioned ‘50s style malt shop, without any consultation. Quick, hot sex in completely inappropriate places made a couple hungry, Dee decided. And talkative. They been chatting since they slid side by side into the booth.

Chatting. Them. Weird. She tried to be suspicious about his motives, but couldn’t manage it.

“I said you were a know it all,” he clarified.

Perhaps she had put too kind an interpretation on what he’d said. His comment had been in reply to one she’d made about weather patterns around the San Diego airport.

“I’ll admit to being a magpie,” Dee said. “I collect information just to have it. It’s because of the kind of witch I am. I never know what bit of trivia that catches my fancy might end up being important for a spell.”

“You put trivia in your magic?”

She dunked a fry into her malt, then popped it in her mouth while she tried to think of a way to explain. “It’s complicated,” she finally said.

“If I’m going to get my pointy hat, don’t I need to know these things?”

She wondered if he was aware his hand was resting on her thigh. She certainly was.

She looked around to make sure no one was nearby before she spoke. Their earlier indiscretion worried her that they might continue with reckless behavior. There was no one within earshot.

“I wonder if vampires could learn to use magic,” she said.

“Isn’t being a vampire magical?” Piper asked.

Dee shook her head. “No. It’s biological. You have to be born what you are. The ability to manipulate energy—magic—isn’t necessarily inherited. Witches hunt for people with the gift so we can teach them and hopefully bring them into our families as well as the Craft.”

“But don’t most mortals’ psychic abilities come from having bred with supernaturals?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. We don’t know for sure. Or maybe those who keep the Secret Histories know where we come from, but I doubt I’ll ever get a peek at those books.”

“Unless they get posted online,” he said.

She laughed. “Oh, goddess, in this day and age, it could happen.”

* * *

Jake liked the sound of McCoy’s laughter. It had never occurred to him that laughter could be sexy before. And here he was discussing vampires interbreeding with mortals with no revulsion at all. He wondered why the idea had been anathema to him a few days ago.

He was amazed when her amusement turned to sudden panic. Her big blue eyes went wide.

“What’s wrong?” Jake asked.

“The Internet! YouTube! Oh my goddess!”

“You’re incoher—”

“Pret-a-Porter must have security cameras. Recording what we did!”

Her cheeks were bright red with embarrassment. Jake wanted to press his lips against her hot skin.

“We could be going viral on the Internet right now,” he agreed.

She gasped.

“But we’re not. I did take care of erasing the recording when I cleaned up.”

She relaxed, her body slumping against his side. It was pleasant to support her weight while being aware of her curves.

She sighed, with her whole body. “Thank goodness. If the McCoys got a peep of that porn video we’d be handfasted before dawn.”

Jake wasn’t going to get into a discussion of witch matrimony, but her comment made him curious about her family.

“Delilah, you have a twin named Samson.”

He’d used her first name for the first time. Her surprise was as great as his. Jake was grateful that at least she didn’t mention what he’d done when she answered. Perhaps she was aware of how significant the moment was for him and honored it with silence. Could a mortal female be so discerning?

He didn’t know why the hell not.

This thought was a surprise for Jake as well.

“I do indeed have a twin,” she said.

“Are you linked? Psychically?”

“Eh….” She shrugged. “Yes. No. Maybe. We were pretty wired together as kids, but worked to be our own selves as we got older. Once puberty hit—neither of us wanted to know what the other was up to then. We are obviously not identical. I think that helped get us past being so close to each other.”

“Melchor and Levi were identical. Our sire claimed they should have tried to destroy each other in the womb, but they were close. It helped them survive, and protect me.”

“Except neither of them survived, did they?” Her hand was on his shoulder, her voice sympathetic.

He should have thrown off her touch and snarled for her to leave him alone. But he’d brought up the subject, and he didn’t want her to leave him alone.

He didn’t want to be alone.

“I’ve been thinking about them too much lately,” he said. “After all these years trying to be a Piper, I keep falling back into memories—ways of thinking—Tribal ways.”

* * *

Dee wasn’t sure what to say, or if she should say anything. Everything she knew about Tribe culture and history told her they were evil monsters in need of killing. But—people used to burn witches, too. People who knew nothing about the reality of the Craft made up horrible ‘facts’ and killed people because of what they ‘knew’. Most of the murdered hadn’t even been witches. But enough witches had died to keep the Craft folk underground to this day.

Maybe it was like that with the Tribes. Maybe the Clans, Families, and vampire hunters were wrong about the immorality and evil of the Tribes.

Nah.

Still….

“Blood kin is important. Maybe more so for those of us with psychic talent—maybe we feel relationships more intensely, I don’t know. The Dark Angels are like family to me, but I really miss not being able to be with my blood family for the holiday. Maybe you need to be with the Pipers for Solstice. Or with the Angels, since—”

“My blood kin are all dead.”

“I was going to put it a little more diplomatically.”

“We’re stuck with each other for the holiday, McCoy. And our assignment.”

“And Lady Juanita’s party,” she added. He hadn’t sounded unpleased by the prospect of their being together. If he wasn’t, she wasn’t.

“Stupid Clan pretensions,” he complained. He finished his hamburger in a quick bite. “We might as well get back to the Bleythin office. Maybe we can find a lead before we have to go and curtsy to the local queen.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Eden looked up from the computer screen as the pair of Dark Angels entered the office. She sat behind her desk and studied them quickly, before they took any notice of her. Piper had his hand cupped around McCoy’s elbow as she walked slightly ahead of him. McCoy accepted this possessive, protective gesture without seeming to notice it.

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