Hell's Belle (20 page)

Oh God I hoped not. Eva's sudden confusion meant that he had definitely bound her to him. Marcello scared the crap out of her, and she did not want to protect him. But Marcello’s binding gave her no choice. Her free will was clearly battling against the binding, one of the cruelest things a vampire could do to a human. I would rather be dead than bound.

Eva gave her head a shake, as if to clear it. "Day-walk?"

"Do you see him when the sun is out?" I asked gently. I tried to keep my voice like Babe's -- firm but kind, but it was laced with tension. Thankfully Casper had receded to the back of my mind again, so there was only a dull ache.

"No," she said, sounding surprised. "No, I never have seen him at daylight." She seemed to relax a little at this notion.

"Either way, we got to get her out of here,” Babe said urgently. “The rosemary will only clear up her confusion, but not for long. She's still bound to Marcello. I'll have to cloak her." Babe waved her hands around. "And all this is mostly tourist crap. I can't use any of it."

Eva was too scared to process the insult.

"Alright, what do we do?" I wasn't so sure that Eva would go anywhere with me, much less in a confined space like a car. I could tell from Babe's expression, she was thinking the same thing.

"Did you find the knife?" Babe asked me as she kept her eyes on Eva.

"Yeah," I said, motioning to the glass case. "There are like ten in there."

"Those knives? Those are his. I ordered them for him," Eva looked scared.

Babe shushed me with a look. "We need the knives, Eva."

"But he'll kill me if I give them to you," she whispered.

I kicked the bottom of the display case with the steel toe of my boot. "Not if I steal them." The shattering of glass drowned out Eva's shrieking. I pulled knives out by the handful, shoving them into my messenger bag.

Babe reached her hand to Eva. "Eva, you have to come with us now. We can keep you safe. I promise."

"How?" Eva sobbed. "He knows. He always knows."

"I'm a witch, too, Eva," Babe soothed. "We can keep you hidden."

That swayed Eva to our side. Or maybe it was the incantation Babe was humming under her breath.

"OK let's go," Eva said through sniffles. She stepped out from behind the counter. Babe took her hand, and we hauled ass out of the store, pausing only long enough to yank down the security gate. We piled into the Fiat and Babe peeled out of the parking spot and raced down the deserted street.

With the botanica in the rearview mirror, I opened my bag to take a better look at the knives. Just like I thought, they were silver-plated, not sterling. That explained the cheap price tag. Since the silver content was so low, they had no impact on the vampire in me. But running my hand over them, they just felt wrong. Casper, who had been lurking in the back of my head, gently came forward, fully into my mind. Wincing at the discomfort, I let him control my hand, moving it along the ornamental hilt, then up the blade, finally hovering over the lot. 

"We think there is a spell on the knives," I blurted out, slapping my hand against my mouth. It was Casper that actually said it, not me. Great. I felt like a puppet.

But even Casper possessing me didn't stop my excitement. We'd have to have a discussion about that possession stuff later, not then. I wanted to enjoy this moment. We had just stolen Marcello's weapons cache, along with the witch he channeled power through.

CHAPTER 27

The sun had barely disappeared beyond the horizon when Frankie crashed through my apartment door. I was trying to yoga-off the stress and adrenaline of the day. He barged in while I was on my fifteenth asana, shouting my name over the Gregorian chants. What can I say? I like to mix and match my spirituality.

I moved into the downward dog yoga position and stared between my legs at an upside-down Frankie. Dog sauntered over and plopped
herself on my yoga mat, right underneath me. She laid down, face near mine, and licked my nose.

"Lovely," Frankie raised his eyebrows and gave me a
fangy smile.

I jumped my feet to my hands, not an easy feat with Dog still under me, and slowly rolled up. I stared out the window, feeling each vertebra slip into place. The sky was streaked with vibrant swirls of pink, red and orange.

I grabbed the remote and turned the chants down. "You're up early, Frankie."

"How'd it go?" he settled himself down on one of my couches while I headed to the fridge.

"Better than I imagined." I popped open a can of Narragansett Beer. Yoga over.

Frankie cocked an eyebrow at me.

"He was using Eva," I explained. "Eva, the woman who owns the botanica? Anyway, he was using her as a magical conduit of some sort, not sure what yet. But I managed to grab about two dozen knives that have some sort of hex on them. Dr. O has them now. He's unraveling the curse. Babe is doing some sort of witchy thing to Eva, to hide her from Marcello. He bound her to him."

For a fleeting moment, Frankie looked worried, but then his expression turned to curiosity. "He didn't kill her?"

I shook my head. "Babe said she's a witch, but Eva doesn't even know it. Honestly, we thought she was a fraud when we walked in. But Babe said she gives accurate readings and is a diviner, whatever that means." I shrugged. It was getting embarrassing how little I knew about witches and witchcraft. Especially now that I knew I was part witch. 

"She wouldn't be the best witch to siphon power from," Frankie mused sensibly.

"Well Casper was a pretty powerful witch for an 18-year-old kid. But he retained his power even in ghost form, so Marcello definitely didn't siphon his power. Maybe Bertrand's playing us for fools." I twisted my hair in frustration.

"Maybe because his spirit never crossed over?" Frankie offered.

"Okay, assuming Bertrand's being straight, why keep Eva alive at all? Why not siphon her too? Why the binding?"

Dog got up from the yoga mat and nuzzled my hand. Time to feed her. I busied myself getting her food together.

Frankie shrugged. "Some of us want eyes and ears during daylight. Some just like the idea of a human to do our bidding. Some, believe it or not, are in love."

I snorted at that suggestion, pulling a can of dog food from the cabinet to mix with Dog’s bowl of dry.

"Honestly, Nina, you are the most unromantic woman I have ever met," Frankie chided me.

"Oh please," I rolled my eyes, spooning the wet slop into her bowl.

"If you were human, and I bound you to me, you would not be immortal, but you would remain young and vital for decades beyond a normal human life," Frankie said as his eyes darkened. "Can you imagine loving someone so much that you didn't want them to experience something as horrific as turning into a monster? But knowing that they are human, and their time with you would be too fleeting? What would you do?"

"I don't know. I don't think about this shit," I said and put the bowl on the floor. "You're just from another era."

Dog shoved her nose in and went at it with gusto. 

A pounding on the door interrupted our argument. My heart rate accelerated. Frankie and I looked at each other. Dog continued inhaling her food.

"Want me to get it?" Frankie asked. I held up my hand in the universal "wait a second" gesture. I bolted to my armoire and pulled out my Beretta. I checked the chamber and then nodded at Frankie. We went to the door.

At the sound of the safety releasing, Frankie pushed the door open. Max froze when he saw us, his eyes wide. I wasn't sure if it was Frankie's fangs or my Beretta Bobcat causing his unease.

“How many guns do you have, woman?” Max still didn’t move from the doorway.

I sighed and dropped the gun, clicking the safety back into place. Frankie stepped back, letting Max pass, his fangs still in view. He was like a goddamn peacock with those things.

Max went straight to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "I just came from Bertrand's," he began.

"Well, don't leave us in suspense," Frankie said, repositioning himself on the couch.

"Tavio told me to give this to you," Max said as he handed Frankie some sort of medallion. "Said to invoke it if the witches got the best of you. I have no idea what that even means."

Invoke it? That meant it needed blood to work. I snatched the medallion from Max's hand. The nerves in my hand immediately were set on edge, like a million tiny electric surges.

"Frankie, it's freaking demon magic." I fumbled the gold disk. "You can't use that."

"What if I have no choice?" Frankie held out his hand, and I handed it off reluctantly.

"You can't dance with a demon," I warned.

"Not even the mambo?" he chirped. He slid the trinket into his jacket pocket.

"I wish you wouldn't be so casual about that," I said, not bothering to hide my exasperation. 

He shrugged, examining the piece.

"I think we need Bertrand's help," Max said, lacing his fingers through mine.

"Not you too," I pulled my hand away from him. "You don't deal with demons."

"I am not sure we have a choice." Max looked stunned. Was it because I pushed him away or because I was anti-Bertrand? If it was the former, his ego was the size of Mount Everest. If it was the latter, he was an idiot.

"I hate to agree with the human, but...." Frankie glanced up at us.

"Come on, Frankie. You know better than this."

"I want you out of this, Nina," Max said firmly. "With Bertrand's help, I think we can take Marcello out without you. There's a price on your head, and his incentive is strong. It's better if you hang back."

My rage hit a boiling point. I didn't even try to hide my fangs when they forced their way out.

"Did you just tell me to hang back?" I said in a low growl that was echoed by Dog.

"Yes, I did," Max said, not backing down. "It's personal for you, and there's a good chance you'll do something stupid."

That made Frankie snort. We both looked at him. Frankie held up his hands in mock surrender. "This is all on you, Max. Nina can handle herself."

"It's better if it's personal, trust me," I squatted to the floor and scratched behind Dog's ears.

Max looked away, uncomfortable. "We can discuss this later. Privately."

Frankie's eyes flicked between Max and me. He looked suspicious. 

"Max, there is nothing to discuss later. If anyone should stay behind, it's you.
Human
," I spat out.

"Not quite," Max said so quietly that I almost missed it. Frankie's vampire hearing picked it up too. We both stared at him, mouths gaping.

I stood slowly, cautiously. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"I called in a favor," he hesitated just enough.

"Bertrand?" I dropped back to the floor, and leaned my head against the cabinet. I wanted to knock Frankie and Max's heads together. Trusting Bertrand was beyond stupid. They were getting themselves way too deep in demon muck to come out the other side.

"So what super power do you have?" Frankie scoffed. Did he think Max was bluffing?

"It's nothing too awesome," Max sounded a bit slighted. "But I have a medallion too. It changes night to day, so I can burn him out."

"Oh perfect," I said, my sarcasm dripping out. "In the meantime, you also burn up Frankie. Nice power to ask for."

"I didn't ask for it," Max fumed. "I went in to ask for help, and I walked out with this."

"See why you can't deal with them?" I shook my head at both of them. "You asked for help, you get crap. Do you owe him anything in return?"

Max shook his head.

"Good, because this is a stupid reason to owe him a favor." I bristled at the thought of owing any sort of allegiance to Ami Bertrand.

The air in the apartment shifted, and I looked up to see Casper hovering around Max. I thought I saw an odd look on his translucent face. I motioned for him to come over.

He floated in front of me. I braced myself, and nodded. He oozed into me, and my hands hit the floor while I took the pain of his entering my body.

Frankie looked at me curiously. "Guess Casper is here?"

I nodded.

"Bertrand gave him something -- not just ability to call the day," Casper's voice echoed in my head privately. He obviously wanted only me to be able to hear him.

I nodded for him to continue.

"Don't know what,” Casper went on. “But something's off with him. Watch your back."

"Does he know?" I asked Casper. For a split second, I considered how insane I must look, having what appeared to be a one-sided conversation.

"No," Casper popped out quickly, and disappeared into the air.

"What was that about?" Max crossed his arms.

"I'm not sure yet." I stood and stalked to the bedroom. I flopped down on the bed, nursing the migraine Casper left in his wake.

"You read through the
Grimoires yet, Nina?" Frankie called over to me.

"Nope," I pulled a pillow over my eyes. The cool fabric felt good against my throbbing head.

"Don't you think you should give them a look over?" Frankie pressed.

"Nope," I repeated.

I heard Frankie's feet thudding towards me, and the bed shifted under his weight as he sat down on the edge. "You're going to need to learn to be a witch, Nina," he said softly. "Whether you like it or not, it's part of you. It's in your DNA."

"Thanks, Dr. Phil. What do you know about family? You ate yours."

I felt Frankie stiffen, and I immediately felt awful. I shot upright. "Shit. Sorry Frankie. I didn't mean it."

He stood and turned his back to me. "Don't worry about it. Speaking of, I have to feed. I'll check in later."

And with that, he walked away. I jumped at the bang the door made when it slammed shut.

"Feed?" Max asked. I forgot he was still there. "He's going to kill someone? Shouldn't we do something?"

I sighed and rolled onto my stomach, propping my head up with my hands. "Frankie doesn't kill when he feeds, Max."

"He eats squirrels or something?" Max looked relieved.

"No, it's human blood," I admitted. I deliberately didn't elaborate so that I could see his reaction, and it didn't disappoint. He went pale, and absently moved his hand to cover his neck.

"Vampires don't need to kill to feed," I deadpanned. "It's just the newbies and the psychos that kill during bloodletting. Frankie's plenty old enough to know how to do it right. And he's not a psycho. I don't think."

Max looked incredulous. "But who would give him blood?"

"Frankie has no problem finding willing donors. Trust me." I hated going to clubs with him for this very reason. While I skulked about awkwardly in a corner, Frankie was overloaded with attention, both male and female. "You just have to know where to look. There's a whole subculture of 'vampires,'" I said, using air quotes. "There are people who see vampirism as a sort of spiritual thing -- like a religion -- and they practice with other consenting adults. Frankie just happens to be real." Of course his paramours don't know that, and I wasn’t about to tell Max that little detail.

"I am surprised you don't know about them,” I went on. “They are considered a cult, sometimes a gang. Every once in a while a group goes off the rails and murders someone. That always makes the news." I rolled over on my back and stared at the ceiling.

I could sense Max shifting uncomfortably. Was it the conversation? Or was it because the last time we were alone in my apartment we did some wonderfully naughty things? Maybe he was feeling regretful. Was he worried that if he dumped me I would suck him dry and leave him for dead?

I sat up and looked at Max. "We need to talk."

"About?" He looked everywhere except at me.

"About last night. About what happened between us." I motioned for him to join me on the bed. "I promise I won't bite." I smiled. He didn't. Guess he didn't find it that funny. But he did come over and sit stiffly on the edge of the bed.

Crossing my legs underneath me, I leaned against the pillows at my back. "It's cool if you want to forget what happened between us. I won't go all vampy or witchy on you. We can just forget it happened if that what’s you want. Okay?"

"You could not be further off base," Max protested, but his eyes told a different story.