Blood Magic: Witch’s Bite Series Book Three Page 12

  “Are you sure?” Zachary asks. “He could help. He has connections we don’t.”

  “I’m sure,” I say with a decisive nod.

  “Alright.” Zachary leans back in his chair. He looks like he wants to ask more questions, but instead he taps his pen once on the desk and turns back to the file.

  I pull out my phone and text Staci, pride be damned. I need to dull the pain in these welts so I can practice using my Finding magic again. I pause, my thumb hovering over the keys. I also need to figure out a way to let go of these hallucinations. I shake the thought away. One step at a time.

  15

  Staci manages to sound smug even over text. I roll my eyes and shove the phone back in my pocket. Zachary has the files spread all over the desk and both beds. I think I’ve memorized the faces of every person that might be connected to the coven.

  “I need to go see Staci about getting more of this salve. I’ll talk to you about this again next time I can get away. But text me if you find anything, alright?” I ask as I walk toward the door.

  Zachary nods absently and waves me away. He’s chewing on the end of his pen and not really paying attention. I’ll have to text him later just in case.

  My phone buzzes as I step into the hallway. Reilly’s number is flashing on the screen. I sigh and answer it.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Where are you?” He asks.

  “I’m still in the hotel, but I’m on my way to see Staci. I need more of the salve. She said she could brew it and give it to me this morning,” I say. It’s not a lie exactly. He doesn’t need to know that I’ve been somewhere else for two hours.

  He’s silent for a moment. “Where is she going to be brewing?”

  “At the local JHAPI offices.”

  “I’ll drive you over,” he says.

  “I can get a cab,” I say, and it sounds whiny even to my ears.

  “I’ll meet you in the parking garage.” He hangs up and I slap my phone shut. That’s the only thing I like about this old piece of crap. Hanging up is more satisfying when you can slam something.

  I head toward the parking garage, muttering to myself the entire way about controlling vampires and bad life choices.

  Reilly is leaning against his car when I get there. He’s dressed impeccably. I can’t help but remember the heat of his body pressed against mine the night before, and how close I came to being an idiot. The fact that I didn’t helps me keep my spine straight as I walk up to him. He lets his eyes wander, and I ignore that too.

  “You smell like Brunson,” he says as I tug on the door handle, which is still locked.

  “And?”

  “So you saw him sometime recently,” Reilly says, raising one brow. “Why?”

  “He’s my friend, I’ll talk to him if I want to,” I say, tugging on the door handle again for emphasis.

  Reilly sighs, frustrated, but unlocks the car and we climb in.

  “I’m sure you know the annual council summit is in just over a week,” Reilly says as he pulls out of the parking spot.

  “Uh, sure,” I say. “I don’t really pay attention to that. I know it happens every year, it just doesn’t really affect me,” I shrug.

  He stops the car and looks at me. “The council summit is the single most important event of the year for every single paranormal. This summit is going to be even more important than normal. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

  “No,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’m not in a coven. I’ll glance at the news to see if any laws change that affect the brews I can sell, but other than that it just doesn’t seem to matter.”

  Reilly shakes his head, exasperated. “The goblins are moving to create their own council.”

  “What? Seriously?” I ask, suddenly interested. When all the other paranormals came out of the closet, the goblins chose to stay underground. Everyone knows they exist, but they refused to integrate with humanity. They stay hidden, refuse legal protections, and refuse to submit to any laws protecting humans. It’s been a huge source of tension for decades.

  “It’s going to shift the balance of power within the councils. For the most part, the weres side with the witches on votes,” Reilly says. “No one knows who the goblins will side with, if anyone. The votes could end up split and we don’t have any way to resolve that.”

  “Are the witches going to try to stop them from joining?”

  Reilly nods. “They have been. They want them to submit to one of the councils that are already in place. It’s one of the things the council will be voting on this time. No one has any idea which way the weres will vote, they’ve been silent on the topic. Some people think they may be secretly trying to get the goblins to submit to them instead of the witches. Some think they don’t want them to have a vote either.”

  “That’s all crazy, but I’m not sure why you’re bringing it up now?” I ask.

  “We will be attending the Summit. I have to report to the vampire council the status of our attempts to eliminate the NWR.”

  I dig my nails into my palm. “Are you going to have to report my existence as well?”

  “You will be coming to the Summit with me, as my guest. I will introduce you to my sire, of course. He has wanted to meet you for a while. The rest has not yet been decided since your evaluation is not complete.”

  I pull on my vampire magic and listen very carefully to Reilly’s heart. He doesn’t seem upset or excited.

  “Is there a chance he’s going to try to kill me or anything crazy like that?” I ask. I haven’t thought about that in a while, the chance that someone might try to put me down. It makes my skin crawl.

  “No,” Reilly says. Not a lie. “You’re more valuable alive.”

  I huff. Of course, he’s still thinking of how I can be most useful. That’s all that matters to him.

  The rest of the drive to the JHAPI office is silent. I think over everything I found out from Zachary. To be honest, he has very little useful information. Names and faces are a start, but there is no meaningful information on what the coven does. With the number of magical items they seem to have access to, I’m starting to wonder if perhaps it’s just a front. Maybe they’re just the paranormal version of arms dealers. They seem to be rich enough.

  I wish I had a way to contact Maybelle or Gerard. If she could just tell me where they stole the spellbook from it would give me a starting point.

  Reilly pulls up near the front door.

  “I will be visiting another clan with Ivy this evening. Wait for me to pick you up.”

  “You’ve made it clear that you will literally kill everyone I care about if I try to run. I’m not planning on disappearing into the desert,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “I know you won’t,” Reilly says. “However, you are still a target for the NWR and the coven that attacked the clanhouse. I’m not risking something happening to you when it’s simple enough to keep you protected.”

  Not a lie. I push my door open and climb out. I hadn’t really considered that the coven might still be looking for me. I think about texting Zachary. Perhaps that’s something we can take advantage of. I wouldn’t mind being used as bait.

  The JHAPI building is freezing cold today. They must have forgotten to switch from air conditioning to heat after the sun went down. The building is also mostly deserted since it’s almost seven and most people went home two hours ago.

  I wander the empty hallways trying to make sense of Staci’s directions. All she had said was that the brewing room was near the workout room on the second floor. There are no signs for either of those rooms.

  I pass an office with an open door and stop. At first, I think the agent is still in the office, but I realize it’s the janitor.

  “Hey,” I say hesitantly.

  He looks up and takes one headphone out of his ear. He’s a middle-aged man with unruly grey hair and round face.

  “Do you know where the, uh, brewing room is? I’m supposed to meet Agent Young there, but
I can’t find it.”

  “Yes,” he says with a thick Russian accent. He hurries to the door and points in the direction I just came from. “You go back. Left, then end of hall.”

  “Thanks, very much,” I say hurrying back in that direction. Sure enough, there is a room at the end of the hall. The only sign on the door simply says Room 102.

  I shrug and open it without knocking. Staci looks up, startled, as I walk in. I guess she expected me to be lost for a while.

  The smell of bleach and some other unfamiliar chemical assaults my nose and I grimace. There’s no lingering scent of herbs or smoke. The air isn’t tinged with magic. It feels like a science laboratory, not a hedgewitch’s workroom.

  “Do they even use this room?” I ask, still standing with one hand holding open the door. It looks like a laboratory in here too. The walls are stark white with no decoration. The cabinets and countertops are all white as well with shiny silver handles. Glass beakers and flasks are arranged by size in neat rows on a metal shelf.

  “Of course. They employ a couple of hedgewitches at this location,” Staci says curtly as she lifts a thick book and lays it next to her cauldron. It’s the only thing in the room that looks well-used. She turns the thick, stained pages slowly scanning each on for something. She’s a quarter of the way through the book when she pauses, humming to herself and taps next to a line of writing.

  "What is that?" I ask.

  She looks at me and adjusts her glasses on her nose.

  "I thought you were a hedgewitch," she says with a haughty sniff.

  "I am, and no part of brewing requires a book, so," I gesture at the book and shrug.

  She snorts. “Of course you're one of those."

  I lean back against the counter and cross my arms.

  “One of what exactly?"

  She grabs a canister out of the cabinet.

  "A sloppy brewer. No recipe, no consistency, unreliable."

  I laugh aloud. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  She simply sniffs and continues scanning her recipe.

  I stare at her, completely aghast. “You have to realize how much more powerful it is. Brewing with a recipe makes the magic stale and weak.”

  She scoffs and turns to face me.

  “Hardly. It makes it controlled, and I'm sure it isn't as fun," she sneers, "but that isn't the point. I know exactly how each brew I give the agents will act. Exactly. How,” she says, jabbing her finger against the counter to emphasize each word. “Whatever you do in your personal life may not matter very much, but JHAPI requires a little bit more of its witches."

  “It sounds more like they require less,” I snap back. "I know exactly how my brews will act too. And I can guarantee they'd be more powerful than yours."

  She turns back to her cauldron. "Just keep telling yourself that."

  “What is your problem with me exactly?” I ask, pushing off the counter.

  She pulls out a knife and begins roughly chopping some herbs. The pieces are too big, a potion like this needs a finer blend.

  “You are a felon,” she says as she cuts. “And that’s just for the crime they managed to catch you committing.”

  I roll my eyes. “I was nineteen.”

  “You’re an untested, untrustworthy civilian that the team has to carry because of politics. Stocke didn’t want you involved, but we had to accept you at the vampire council’s insistence.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek before I reply. “So you’re going to be passive-aggressive every time we have to work together?”

  “I’m going to be polite when I have to,” she says as she scoops the herbs up and tosses them into the already hot cauldron. “But if you want to be an ass, I can be one right back.”

  Her hair is slightly frazzled from the heat, and her glasses are sliding down her nose again. She looks like an angry mouse and I have to press my lips together to keep from laughing at her. I can’t completely hide the smile though and two spots of color form on her cheeks.

  She turns back to the cauldron and stirs angrily.

  “I’ll bring you the salve when it’s done. I don’t need you in here monitoring my spell work.”

  I roll my eyes, but don’t argue about staying. I don’t want to watch her massacre this brew any longer than I have to. It’s going to be absolutely useless.

  “Sure, I’ll just wait out in the hall,” I say with fake sweetness. “But definitely let me know if you get stuck with your little recipe and need some help.”

  There is a perfunctory knock on the door and Ivy steps inside. I’m not surprised she’s here so late. She struck me as the workaholic type. The expression on her face makes me pause.

  “One of the missing vampires has turned up, but it’s a disaster. We need to go now,” she says.

  Staci flips the burner off and we both hurry out of the room after Ivy.

  16

  The van is already running, Cook behind the wheel, when Staci, Ivy, and myself run into the garage. The door slides open revealing the rest of the team minus Zachary. He must still be at the hotel.

  We pile in and Cook speeds away as the door shuts behind me. I’m thrown sideways into Hu’s lap. He grunts, his hands tightening around my waist for a moment.

  “Sorry,” I say as I drag myself over to his other side.

  “No worries, Cook is a crazy driver,” Hu says with a grin.

  Reilly mutters something I can’t quite hear across the van from him. I narrow my eyes at him, but he’s staring up at the front of the van now, ignoring me.

  Stocke leans around from the front passenger seat.

  “What we know is that one of the missing vampires, Ryan Johnson, was found a couple of hours ago at a bar known to be frequented by vampires by one of his clanmates. He was brought back to the clanhouse immediately, where they attempted to revive him.” Stocke pauses and shakes her head slightly, her curls bouncing. “He immediately killed the human woman they had brought down to feed him. He also killed his clanmate, who was both older and stronger, but another was able to escape the room and lock him inside.”

  “Has he gone feral or was this an intentional attack?” Ivy asks.

  “That isn’t clear. His sire, Lee Vaughan, believes something else is going on, but won’t say what. He requested help from JHAPI, which is unheard of.”

  Reilly scratches his chin and leans forward. “Who exactly did Ryan Johnson kill? It’s possible Vaughan simply doubts his ability to put this vampire down.”

  Stocke presses her lips tightly together. “He killed the sire’s second.”

  Reilly stares at her. “Vaughan’s second is well over two-hundred years old. There is no way a youngling caught him off guard.”

  “So this kid somehow overpowered him?” Elise asks. “That would be like a freshly bitten were killing an alpha. That just doesn’t happen.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Reilly agrees.

  “This is what we’re here for. The clan leader wants the vampire put down, and under every law we have, he has the right to request that.” Stocke pauses. “However, we have a chance to find out what happened to Ryan. He is the only person that knows who took him, if anyone, and where he has been all this time. If he was somehow made stronger, I want to know why and how.”

  “You want to capture him,” Ivy says.

  Stocke nods. “If we can.”

  “We will need the most powerful tranquilizer you can get your hands on,” Reilly says. He glances at me and I can see the gears turning in his mind. He’s excited about this.

  “It’s already on its way,” Stocke says.

  “The Sleeping Beauty brew?” Staci asks, her face lighting up. I can’t help it, I’m curious to see it as well. It’s one of the most tightly regulated brews in existence.

  “Yes,” Stocke confirms. “They had a double dose on hand in Los Angeles. It will be here in an hour and a half.”

  “So, we have a vampire that was able to kill someone hundreds of years older. He’s going to be in
sanely fast,” I say, leaning around Hu to look at Stocke. “How exactly are we supposed to administer this brew? Ask him nicely to drink it?”

  Stocke looks at Reilly.

  “Are you serious?” I exclaim. I’m not even sure why I’m upset. I couldn’t care less if Reilly gets killed, but it is ridiculous to expect him to go in after this thing by himself.

  “I’ll help him,” Elise says, cracking her knuckles.

  “No way,” Cook objects from the front seat. “Even shifted you aren’t as fast as a vampire.”

  “I’m fast enough,” Elise argues back. The front of the van descends into a debate over the speed and agility of werewolves versus vampires.

  I lean back and cross my arms, staring at Reilly. He’s staring right back at me. I pull on my vampire magic and hone in on the beat of his heart.

  “I’m going in with you,” I whisper. I know he’ll hear it.

  “You’re not fast enough,” Reilly back with a shake of his head.

  “Like hell I’m not. The sun is down. I can do this.”

  Reilly stares at me for a moment longer, then smirks, his cheek dimpling.

  “If you’re that eager, I won’t turn down your assistance. It’ll be good to test your limits.”

  I roll my eyes. Every time I get the impulse to help or hate him less, he reminds me that he’s an ass.

  “Just remember, if you overdo it, you’ll have to feed again, and it won’t be from me,” he warns.

  I turn away. I’m probably not ready for this, I’ve only had one day to focus on training since all of this started, but life doesn’t seem to want to wait for a convenient time to test me. I’ll just have to deal with it if I do use too much magic.

  Elise doesn’t stop arguing in favor of werewolves for the rest of the drive. Cook objects the most, to the point that I start to suspect he is just worried about her. I hadn’t really paid attention to their interactions before, but it’s possible he has a crush on her. Based on her reaction, I think this is the wrong way to go about seducing her. She looks furious.

  The van comes to an abrupt stop and Cook rolls down the window, shouting at someone to come open the gate. He and Stocke talk to someone, showing their badges, and then we are moving again. We don’t have to drive far before Cook stops the van again and throws it into park. Ivy slides open the door and we all pour out.