The Dark's Mistress (The Saint-Pierres) (15 page)

Knocking on the bright fuchsia door, Johnny scanned the neighborhood.  A normal batch of mortal houses sprang up in the surrounding yards.  Flowers growing on lawns, carved shrubbery, trees espaliered along walls as the French loved to control nature as much as possible.  This made an ideal place for a witch to hunker down and hide right out in the open.

Johnny had met Zoë once.  One night when passing the witch’s bazaar with a few of his tribe mates, she had recognized him and introduced herself.  She’d talked warmly about his father and had given him her address if he ever needed anything from her.  He’d thought her gregarious, but decided that was who she was, and hell yeah, he’d visit if he ever needed spellwork. 

Not that he’d ever expected to need it.  Who grows up believing some day they’d meet a girl, fall in love, and then have to rescue her from the devil Himself while the old bastard pummeled him to a pulp?

“Johnny!  You’re welcome in my home.”

The witch tugged him across the threshold by his shirt front.  He dodged a black cat, which she introduced as Sid, and followed the petite witch with the long violet skirt and floaty pink blouse through the house and out into a cozy three-season porch that overlooked a small yard packed to the seams with flowers, herbs, and plants of every shape and color.  There were chickens clucking about, pecking at the plants too.  Interesting.

“How is your father?” Zoë asked.  Her hair was half black, half white, as if someone had dumped a can of paint over the left side.  It was arresting, but he liked it.  A touch of goth to her bohemian look. 

“Dad’s, uh…good.  I’m sure he sends a hello.”

“And the baby?”

“Summer is a bouncing ball of curls and spitup.”

“Babies are so sweet!  I’d like one of my own soon.”  She gestured to a teapot and he nodded.  “I knew you’d be stopping by within the year.”

“Is that so?”  It had been probably six months since she’d introduced herself.  “Can you read the future then?”

“Oh no, but I sensed you would be needing help someday soon.  You’ve that look about you.”

Johnny looked over his attire.  Black leather pants frayed at the hem to reveal black suede boots.  His tee-shirt was a classic Johnny Cash concert item he’d nicked from his dad’s closet years ago.  The leather vest was worn and only a few of the studs remained around the hem.

“What?” he asked, “the heroin rocker look?  Did you think I’m a drug addict, Zoë?”

“Oh, no.  Not like your dad.  Oh.”  She slapped a palm over her mouth and blinked long dark lashes at him.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that.”

“It’s cool.  Everyone knows my dad was a dust freak. 
Was
being the key word.  He’s been clean for ages.”

“Oh, I know.  Faery dust is nasty business.” 

Johnny squeezed his hands together before his nose, wincing.  “Hell, I can’t lie.  He had a relapse the other day.”

Zoë remained silent, but her eyes widened.

“I think the devil compelled him to it.  I’ll explain it all, but it’s weird.”

She sighed and sat across the wicker glass-topped table from him and poured tea into a tiny cup speckled with pink roses.  “Do tell.  The devil?  Got a demon you need to get off your back?  A problem with pixies?  Maybe it’s—“

“Love,” Johnny interrupted.

Zoë sat up abruptly, setting her teacup down with a clink.  Her eyes brightened and her cheeks rosed brightly.  “Oh, well.  Love is the most dangerous habit of them all.  But please tell me it’s not a love spell you require.  I don’t do those.  Love that develops from a spell is false, and eventually the spell wears away.  It’s never true.”

“I’m already in love.  With a vampiress.  She’s a singer at Club l’Enfer.”

Zoë mocked a shudder and sipped her tea.  “Miserable place.  They say the devil Himself owns that pit.”

“He does.”

“You say that as if you know it’s truth.”

“Unfortunately, I do know it’s true.”


“And that’s how your father figures into this whole weirdness?”

“Unfortunately, yes.  The devil made him take dust as a means to get to me.  The old lad has also been whispering in my grandmother’s ear also.  You’re familiar with Viviane?”

Zoë nodded.  “The poor soul.”

“As well…”  Johnny tilted back the whole cup of tea, which was no more than three sips anyway, and swallowed the earthy water roughly.  “He owns the woman I love and I need to set her heart free of his dark influence before he kills me later tonight.”

Zoë’s mouth fell agape.

“He’s darkened her soul,” he continued.  “Every time she’s drank blood from a mortal she’s taken their soul into her heart.  Sort of like a repository for the dark prince.  Her heart is black, Zoë.  And it’s filled with imprisoned souls.  I need to help her.  She wants her freedom.  I...I love her.”

“Reason enough for the old lad to want to go after your family in retaliation.”  Zoë leaned forward and tapped his knee with her hand.  “Can you tell me…  Did she enter willingly into a relationship with…well…Him?”

He nodded.  “She didn’t know who he was initially, and then by the time she did…”

“It was too late,” Zoë finished.  “Poor, poor girl.  Not much to do to save her.  And as for you—do you know for sure he’s going to kill you?”

Johnny nodded.  “Unless I develop some super devil-fighting skills real fast, I assume that’s how the duel tonight is going down.”

“Yes, not much a person can do if they’ve a duel against…that evil person.”  Zoë shifted uncomfortably on the love seat.  “As for the woman you love.  Do you know if her soul belongs to the big mean guy?”

Johnny had to chuckle at Zoë’s attempts to not name him, for fear of calling him here.

“I think she still has her soul.  I’m sure of it.  It’s her heart.  She can’t pull away from him.  I think…”  Johnny sighed and shook his head.  “I don’t know what I think.  That’s why I came to you for help.  Is there anything I can do to save her?  I love Kambriel.  And I don’t want to die knowing she’s still under that bastard’s control.”

“Kambriel?  I’ve heard the name.”

“She’s Kambriel Saint-Pierre.  Her family lives in the States.  Her brother, a werewolf, was here looking for her, but that damned devil can control our minds.  The brother left, oblivious to his goal of finding his missing sister.  I should give the family a call.  But there’s no time now.  Zoë, please.”

She blew out a breath.  “Whew!  Well, I do love a good challenge.  And I hate it when innocents get sucked in by such dastardly evil.”

“I’ll pay you any amount.  I’ll do anything.  I’d sacrifice—“

Putting up a palm, Zoë rushed out, “Don’t say it.  If he hears what you may be willing to give up, he’ll be on you like a tic starved for blood.  He’s already gone after your family.  Save your soul, Johnny.  You’ll need it to love her if we can cleanse her heart.  That is, if you’re still alive tomorrow morning.”

“Cleanse her heart?”

“Why yes.”  Zoë nodded, as if just realizing what she’d said could work.  “A cleansing.  I think that could do the trick!  I need to check my grimoires.  You shouldn’t wait.  But I’ll call you, yes?”

“I’ll give you my number.  But I haven’t much time.  The duel is at midnight out behind Nôtre Dame.”

“Consecrated ground.  Interesting.  Well!  I’ll need an hour or two.  Don’t worry.”

“Do you think you can save her?”

“I don’t want to make any promises, but I’ll give it my best shot.  But you had best lay low.  If the big dark goon from Beneath can control your thoughts he can certainly see into them as well.  As soon as he gets an inkling of what you are attempting to do…”

Johnny nodded.  “Got it.”

“Will your father be okay?  Does he need…assistance?”

“Uh, I think he’s good.  Mom is watching him closely.  It was one night.”

“Right, but you know the prince of youknowwhat will be keeping a close eye on him.  I’ll see if I can mix up a batch of something to make faery dust taste repulsive to a vampire.  Just as a safety measure.”

“Thanks.”

“Fine, now you go to your girl, but don’t give away our plans.  Got it?”

“I’m not even sure what the plan is, so I can do that.  Thanks, Zoë.”  Johnny stood and when he stepped out of the sitting room he walked right into a yawning mortal man with biceps twice the size of his.  “You must be the hunter?”

“Ah hell.  Zoë?”  The man looked to his lover, who stood behind Johnny.  “Really?”

“Kaz, this is Johnny Santiago.”

“I see.”  The man looked him over.  “Vail’s son.” 

“Johnny, meet Kaspar Rothstein.  He’s with the Order of the Stake.”

He offered his hand to shake and Johnny reciprocated.

It was strange to shake a hunter’s hand.  The man existed to annihilate his race.  From a vampire’s perspective he could be placed on the same level of evil as the devil Himself.  Yet earnestness exuded from the man and his sure grip.  No wonder his father trusted him.  It had been wise to come to Zoë.

“I’m helping him with a little love situation,” Zoë explained as she escorted Johnny to the front door.

“Your hair going completely white with this one?” Kaz asked.

Johnny made an enquiring lift of brow toward the witch.

She shrugged and opened the door, smiling as she gestured he leave.  “We’ll see, lover,” she called.  “We’ll see!”

* * *

An hour later, as Johnny stood in Nôtre Dame’s north tower waiting for Kam, he answered a phone call from Zoë.  She’d found the exact spell in one of her grimoires to cleanse Kam’s heart.  And the process was incredible.

He shoved a hand back through his hair.  “Are you sure, Zoë?  That’s—I don’t know.”

“It’s the only way to save her.  We have to cleanse her heart of the darkness Himself has placed there.  She is beguiled.”

“We?”

“I’ll need two other witches to help me.  I know Libby St. Charles will be glad to help, and we’ll find a third before midnight.”

“Midnight?  But I’m meeting Himself at midnight.” 

“I’ll try to hurry, but with all the spell prep we’ll be cutting it close as it is.  No matter what happens, you can trust we will be there for Kambriel.  Even if you’re…”

Dead, he finished her sentence in his head.  He strolled along the stone balustrade, and kicked a gargoyle in the tail.  “I’m not sure, Zoë.  This is some deep shit.”

“The moon is full.  It’s the only time this will work.  And you don’t want to leave this realm knowing she’s still under the devil’s control, do you?”

“No.  Never.”  Even the witch thought he’d bite the big one tonight.  Great.  “I just.  I’m not sure I can do what you need me to do.”

“You’ll need to if you want to save her.  We’ll be waiting before city hall.  The former Place de Grève is ground sacred to us witches of the Light.  Bring her heart to me, Johnny.”

“I’ll do what it takes.”

He hung up and exhaled all his breath.  His shoulders slumped and he bent forward, catching his palms on the gargoyle’s spine.  “Bloody hell.  She wants me to rip out Kambriel’s heart.”

Chapter
Thirteen

The phone rang three seconds after Johnny had hung up.  It was his mother.

“I can’t find Summer!” Lyric panted into the phone.  Johnny stiffened at the sound of his mother’s uncharacteristically frightened voice.  “I laid her down for a nap an hour ago and now…”

Johnny shoved a hand back through his hair.  Could Himself have called to her?  Of course, he could have.  Bastard.  But she was a baby.  She couldn’t possibly go in search of the devil on her own. 

“Where’s dad?”

“He’s here.  We’re heading out to look for her.  We’ve torn the house apart.  Johnny?”

“I’ll look too, mom.” 

And he had a good idea where to start.  Why would Himself lure away Summer now, tonight, when he was soon to crush Johnny to a pulp?  The old lad had him exactly where he wanted him; he didn’t need to torture his family any longer. 

“You and dad stay together.  Did you check with Becky?”  The neighbor girl—a mortal teenager— frequently babysat, and had access to the Santiago kitchen and playroom.  “We’ll find her.”

“Thanks, Johnny.  Becky is on vacation with her family.  And I don’t think Summer got out on her own.  We’d have found her close to the house.  Someone has taken her!”

“She’s going to be okay, mom.  We’ll figure this out.”  He wasn’t going to tell her his suspicions about Himself.  That would freak her out all the more.  He heard Vail call for his mom in the background.  “I’ll let you go. I’ll keep my phone on and we’ll touch base often.”

Hanging up, he turned and fisted the cathedral wall, swearing. 

“Johnny?”

Kam stood in the south tower.  A dark angel perched upon the sacred and whose feet had not yet touched mortal ground, she beamed.  Yet Johnny knew she was more tainted than any creature that walked this earth.

Vacillating between the search for his baby sister and what he was compelled toward, he leaped up onto the balustrade and ran along it to the opposite tower to land beside Kam.