Bewitched, Blooded and Bewildered (3 page)

Too bad. That’s all you get,
I shot back. Clearing my throat, I pulled my arm close and rubbed at my wrist. Ow. I could already see the spot where the bruise would form—a giant hickey like I’d been attacked by a demon vacuum cleaner. Turning, I escaped into Lex’s embrace, and he rubbed my back as he glowered at the vampire.

“What time is the challenge?” Lex asked.

“At midnight. You’re free to mingle until then. Try not to kill any of the guests. Oh, that reminds me…” Zach replied, trailing off.

“Reminds you of what?” I prompted. No good could come from that segue.

“We’ve lost another sorcerer and found two more shapeshifter bodies.”

“When?” Lex asked.

“The shifters were found on Monday. The sorcerer went missing Wednesday evening. He left the office at 5:30 and never made it home to his family,” Zach explained.

“That could be anything,” I argued, despite the sinking surety in my gut. “Intersorcerer politics. Or even a mugging.”

“I doubt anyone could mug a sorcerer,” he scoffed.

I scowled at him and Lex inhaled sharply. “Why not? I got mugged,” I reminded him.

Zach’s face fell as he realized his error. “Of course, I apologize. But a sorcerer, particularly this one, a member of the Salerno family, would be able to fight back against a mundane attacker. He didn’t have any problems with the other families, so it makes the Promethean hunters the most likely attackers.”

“A Salerno, like Anthony?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

The fact that the hunters were targeting sorcerers with families meant that anyone could be next. They’d nabbed Anthony once, not realizing he was connected to Zach. I’d gone with Zach to rescue Anthony because the kid was faerie-blooded, so his welfare fell into my Titania jurisdiction. During his escape, Anthony had swiped the hard drives of some computers he’d stumbled across. The good news was that we had a name to place with the hunters—they were part of Task Force Prometheus. The bad news was that the Prometheans had thousands of magicians’ names and were working their way through the list.

“You may want to look into increasing your security,” Zach suggested.

“Our security’s fine,” Lex snapped.

“Right. How about we go mock some dead people, okay?” I suggested. The more distance between Lex and Zach the better.

Taking his arm, I led him out of the room and into the party. His all-black ensemble fit right in, which was somewhat disturbing. Black hid bloodstains well—the reason behind his attire—and he was resisting my attempts to work color into his wardrobe. Lex was resistant to change, and thanks to me he’d had a bucketful of drama dumped into his lap. New job, new wife, and we were looking for a new house. His old clothes were pretty much the last familiar thing he had left. Things would be smoother once I got this damn spell undone. Scanning the crowd, I wondered if my chronicler buddies Simon, Michael, and Emily were in attendance. As chroniclers they weren’t as annoying as regular vampires. Emily in particular was fun to talk to, because she had over one hundred years of gossip to share. I didn’t spot them, but that was for the best. They weren’t on Zach’s list of favorite people.

We found Anthony and Faust watching a group of vampires playing poker. Faust was smoking a thin, black cigarette and exhaling clouds of bright green smoke. My mouth watered for a smoke of my own. I’d quit again—Lex had insisted. He had a strict no-smoking-in-the-house policy, along with a no-smoking-in-the-car-or-on-the-property policy. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but considering all the stress we’d been under, my hands were practically shaking for want of a cigarette.

“Would you like me to get you something to eat?” Anthony asked. I quirked a brow at him, surprised by the suggestion. “It helps after donating.”

“Sure, thanks.”

We found a free seat where we could sit and glower at the passersby, and Anthony vanished for a bit before returning with a club sandwich. Faust wandered off to do whatever mysterious business shadowspawn faeries do, so I concentrated on chatting with Anthony while I ate. He was probably keeping an eye on us, but I didn’t mind him. I asked how his studies were going. I assumed our college experiences were very different. Anthony was a trust-fund baby, and I was still paying off my student loans.

The buzz of conversation picked up as midnight neared, and at a quarter to, Zach came by to fetch us. We followed him to the mansion’s ballroom, which had been staged for the battle. Nothing fancy, but there were a few daises set up to allow for raised seating so the important dead people wouldn’t have to mix with the rabble. Of course, in this situation we were the rabble, because Zach was being challenged, so we were in the front row. Being only a few years dead, Zach had no business being on the council in the first place. It had been only a matter of time before he was challenged, and provided we survived this, I was willing to bet there was a line of contenders waiting for their turn.

The stench of magic from the crowd of necromancers and vampires was overwhelming, like being trapped inside a slaughterhouse that was on fire. My eyes watered and I blinked rapidly—I wondered if I looked overcome with emotion instead of overcome by the smell. The odds of my shedding tears over Zach were slim, because if he died, I’d be dead too and wouldn’t have time to weep, even if I wanted to.

Would you?

I glared at him, annoyed by the intrusion.
No. Maybe tears of joy though.

As the crowd murmured around us, I eyed the challenger, Mr. Rousseau, and his blooded minion. Rousseau had a strong resemblance to Tom Cruise in
Interview with a Vampire
, ruffled, white shirt and all, except he looked pretty tall, taller than me at least. I found the whole thing inappropriately hilarious. Zach was fighting Lestat? Great, who was his blooded minion? Louis? It’d work out well for me. I knew I could take a whiny bitch like Louis in a fight.

Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to my husband, who was more interesting and far more attractive. “What do you think?”

“He looks fast,” Lex replied.

“Faster than the average vampire?”

“Should be,” Faust chimed in. “He’s had enough time to practice.”

Chewing my bottom lip, I debated what to do to counteract that. Zach was fast, probably even faster than the average vampire. Question was, could a freakishly powerful baby vamp be faster than an elder vamp? Annoyance—not mine—flitted through my mind at that thought, and I looked at him. Zach’s emerald eyes were watching me, his brow furrowed, and I shrugged. It was true. Just because he’d ended up powerful for some reason didn’t undo the fact that he ought to be still teething. Rousseau, on the other hand, was not.

I turned my attention back to him. He looked athletic, like he went to a vampire gym and had an undead personal trainer. At least our entourage was cooler than his—no faeries on his team, evil or otherwise.

A boom like a thunderclap thrummed through the room, and all eyes turned to the highest dais where three chairs stood. Councilman Vargas loomed over the crowd, his cold, dark eyes gazing out over the masses. For a vamp he had a dark complexion, almost giving him an illusion of life and health, and he wore a conservative black suit. Armani? I’d been spending way too much time around Zach if I could spot designers at a distance. From what I’d heard, Vargas had been some sort of Spanish nobility, and like many of the Old World vamps, he’d come to the new world looking to carve out a seat of power for himself.

“Councilman Harrison’s seat has been challenged by Sir Rousseau. As of this moment the seat is vacant. The winner of this challenge will gain the seat on this council. Sir Rousseau, are you ready?”

Our opponent nodded in reply, squaring his shoulders and saluting the councilman with his rapier.
Sir?
I really hoped the guy wasn’t a knight of some sort. Maybe just a Knight of Columbus, and all he did was raise money for charity and occasionally wore a big plumed hat.

“Zachary, are you ready?”

Zach slipped his suit jacket off and handed it to Anthony, unbuttoned the cuffs of his crisp white shirt, removed his tie, and then undid his collar button. Anthony handed him a sword, and it seemed odd somehow. Zach had never struck me as the sword type. “I am,” he replied. He nodded to me, and I withdrew my rapier from its scabbard.

“Catherine, if I may?” Faust said, holding out his hand.

I gave him the sword, curious, and bright orange flames leapt to life along the blade as magic crackled around the weapon. He handed it back to me and my arm was numb as I took it. The breath froze in my lungs as I realized why I’d been growing fond of Faust—he reminded me of my cousin Tybalt. Tybalt had coated my rapier with frost in the middle of the fight that had killed him. He died defending me, defending our family, and his death was my fault.

Well, mine, and Lovely Laura’s minions, which included Harrison.

One day I’m going to stab you with this,
I promised him as I squared my shoulders.

I don’t doubt it,
he replied. Weapon in hand, we walked away, toward our opponents, and I steeled myself for the assault.

Sir Rousseau’s blade was without special effects, and I hoped that was a good sign. Maybe his minion couldn’t pull the effect off. Maybe the minion’s fire-spell skills were getting rusty after concentrating on necromancy for however long he’d been a minion. Of course, master necromancers had nasty surprises of their own—

“You may begin,” Vargas intoned, interrupting my train of thought, and the fight was on.

Chapter Two

My shields popped in place around me, creating my own sphere of safety as the two vampires leapt at each other. Zach and Sir Rousseau moved in a blur, back and forth, attack, parry and riposte. Their blades clanged, loud and fast—too fast—like someone hit fast forward on the scene in front of me. I turned my attention to my opponent, Louis. Zach had his hands full with Rousseau, and I didn’t want the minion ganging up on him.

Louis eyed me disdainfully. I get that expression a lot.

“This’d be quicker if you just gave up,” I suggested.

My opponent’s scowl deepened. “You first.”

“Do you know who I am? I’m a Silverleaf. You should’ve stayed home.”

That made him pause. My faerie cousins had gone on a glorious killing spree after Tybalt’s death, leaving a trail of dead vampires from coast to coast—hell, they might’ve gone global by now. I didn’t have long to gloat, because the tip of a blade sliced across my chest—Zach’d been hit. The pain was quick and sharp, but the wound was hidden beneath my shirt. I’d worry about it later.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I concentrated on putting up shields, mine and his. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do at the moment other than wave my flaming sword in a threatening manner and talk smack. Picturing the link between us like the glow of a fiber-optic cable, I drew on my magic. The energy around me flared and expanded to envelop Zach. It even pushed farther to surround Lex and protect him too, not that he needed it, safe on the sidelines. A growl of annoyance made me open my eyes, and Rousseau circled Zach, testing his new shields. Go me. But then a ball of fire appeared in Louis’s off-hand, and I knew those shields weren’t going to last long at all.

Ideas?
I asked.

Working on it.

Oh, that was helpful. Rousseau circled us, and Louis eyed Zach as though he could see the invisible barrier, and then the fireball shot toward him. I expected the fireball to bounce back at its caster—I’d seen it happen before—but instead the fire hit the barrier and hung there, the flames snapping and crackling as they flattened into a thin disk. Zach tugged at my magic to strengthen the shield. The flames spread, encompassing the shields in a thin layer, until it all exploded.

The force of the blast sent me flying, knocked my top hat off and sent it sailing into the crowd. Thankfully my glasses didn’t go with it, and I could still see as I landed with a startled
thud
. Rousseau leapt forward and stabbed Zach low in the side. Zach dropped his sword with a howl of pain I echoed as agony seared through me. I wasn’t sure what internal organ I’d just ruptured, but I bet it was important.

Louis lunged forward, but I managed to shove my shields up again before he could stab me. I glanced at Lex for moral support, and I noticed Faust next to him. Again I was reminded of Tybalt, specifically his reminder that thanks to my faerie heritage I had frost in my blood. With Portia’s help I’d been working on mastering that magic ever since, and I decided that I’d had enough of this fire nonsense. Cold settled into my chest, and I exhaled a cloud of frost. I love faerie magic, because I don’t have to spout tree-hugging Seussian poetry in order to make it work like witch magic. I wrapped myself in power and thrust it outward. Zach jerked, and frost traveled through his body and up Rousseau’s blade. When it touched Rousseau’s skin he jerked the sword free and dropped it, shaking his hand with a hiss of pain. Zach tackled him, and it was teeth-and-claws time. Each bite, each scratch, tore into my skin, and I snarled like a wounded animal.

Latching on to that pain, I lurched to my feet and went on the offensive. Like I said, Lex and I had been working on my combat skills, and I wasn’t half bad. The flames on my rapier flashed from orange to blue, and an icy chill shot through me. Louis’s eyes widened as I moved in a blur and stabbed the man in his gut.