Don't Hex and Drive Page 9

  Must be all that yoga helping with good balance and limbering up. My mind strayed in a nanosecond. Sweat-slick skin, broad muscular back, tight, flexing abs, intricate chest and shoulder tattoo that I’d wanted to observe with a magnifying glass.

  He’d popped back out with a brown box in hand. I banished my yoga-obsessed thoughts and sighed with relief, thankful to be done with this semi-embarrassing situation. His mischievous smile never faltered as he handed it over. I’m sure he was thinking deviant thoughts about me and my Big John or something, but I refused to be baited into another conversation about my sex toy. But then his gaze deepened to one of sincerity. “I am sorry if I embarrassed you at the Cauldron. I was only teasing you. Private joke between us.”

  “I know. I’m fine.” Even so, my heart whimpered at his apology.

  The box had obviously been opened and re-taped, maybe more than once? I offered my hand to shake his. “Thank you for the tea.”

  He took my hand, enveloping it almost completely, skating his thumb over the back. “You’re more than welcome.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but then glanced down at the box without another word.

  I pulled my hand loose from his and took a step back. “Goodbye then.”

  He leaned against the open doorway, tucking both hands in his pockets. I glanced over my shoulder to catch him wearing that secretive smile as he watched me walk away.

  Weird. I was sure he’d have some smartass parting words for me. But he’d done nothing more than eye my box. As I walked through the front door, I glanced down at the package in my hand, then launched upstairs to my bedroom and shut the door. Something was niggling at me. Did he do something to my new vibrator? He wouldn’t.

  Easily tearing open the box, I pulled out Big John still perfectly sealed in its original packaging, but then my eye caught something at the bottom of the box. A DVD movie?

  Covering the DVD was a sticky note with masculine scrawl scripted in a more-than-pretty hand: In case you need some help to accompany your new toy. –Sincerely, Devraj

  I pulled off the sticky note and read the title, Dilwala Deewana. And who should be starring in this sensual Bollywood movie? Yep. You guessed it.

  “Seriously?”

  Devraj stared out from the cover, his white linen shirt completely unbuttoned to reveal his sculpted chest and chiseled abdomen. A beautiful woman with waist-length, silky black hair kneeled at his feet, gazing up at him adoringly with one hand pressed to the bare skin of his perfectly ripped abs.

  That man!

  “As if I need his help. Please.”

  Like I’d ever watch his movie to get hot and bothered. The arrogance! I slammed the DVD on top of my dresser and stared at his offensively sensual smile, wicked expression, and beautiful chest, the lover at his feet staring up at him hungrily.

  I started to storm from the room but then marched back to my dresser, picked up the DVD, and dropped it in my waste basket.

  “That’s where you belong,” I muttered to my trashcan.

  And that’s what this man had done to me. Made me into a muttering fool with pent-up aggression, and possibly repressed sexual arousal, and feeling far more agitated than was normal. And okay, I’ll admit, a little hot and bothered, dammit!

  The mere fact that dropping his movie in the trash made me feel satisfied and somewhat superior wasn’t necessarily a good sign. He shouldn’t have any effect on me at all.

  I’d allowed him too much control over my own mood. So I marched off to the greenhouse to center myself. That’s what I needed. And maybe a visit with Tia would help. She could always ground me when the world irritated me to death. Yep. Tia could help me relieve any anxiety or stress. Even if that stressor took the form of a yoga-fit and annoyingly beautiful vampire.

  Chapter 8

  ~DEVRAJ~

  * * *

  “You want me to null a Stygorn?” asked Jules, not bothering to hide her look of shock.

  “Temporarily,” clarified Ruben as we stood in the back of the Cauldron’s kitchen with its chef. “You’ve done it before.”

  She narrowed her gaze on Ruben. “Why?”

  I glanced around the kitchen, making sure the sous chef and line cooks were too far away to overhear. They were busy shouting orders, and pop music played from somewhere, giving us plenty of privacy.

  “Two of the four girls that went missing were last seen at Barrel Proof. I’m unknown to the supernaturals in the neighborhood, so if you null my powers, I can pass as human. ”

  “And stake out Barrel Proof,” added Ruben.

  “Tonight?” she asked.

  “The sooner the better,” I told her.

  Jules stared up at me. She was a petite, curvy woman. Her dark auburn hair was cut in a short bob, framing her heart-shaped face. Her features were delicate, non-threatening. Except for her sharp steel-gray eyes. Make no mistake, I knew the power of an Enforcer. If she wanted, she could do more than null my powers. She could drain my magic dry then punch me through the wall with her telekinetic powers. Not that I thought she held any intentions of such a thing. But it made me wonder when nature put such mighty power into a small, seemingly delicate, package.

  Finally, she blinked heavily, apparently coming to some conclusion. “Come with me.”

  I followed her through the service door into a back courtyard, Ruben behind us. As soon as the door was closed, she reached out and gripped my wrists, her hands cool.

  “Six hours should do it?” she asked.

  My muscles bunched, my nerves already rejecting what I was about to do. “Let’s make it four. I don’t want to be without my powers that long.”

  She smiled and gave my wrists a squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’m really good at this. I won’t do any permanent damage.”

  Ruben coughed behind me. We both gave him a sidelong glance, but his smirk was fixed on Jules.

  “Do you disagree, Mr. Dubois?”

  “Not at all, Miss Savoie.” His grin remained.

  She blew out a breath that fluttered her bangs before she focused on me again. “It only takes a second.”

  She closed her eyes. I was about to ask her what it would feel like, then a sudden rippling jolt rattled my bones, literally shaking me in my shoes. Within a snap, I felt the change in my blood, in the beating of my heart, the strength in my limbs. There was a distinctive feeling of being less-than permeating straight through my chest.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled, looking down at my body, expecting to see it diminish in some way.

  “It feels odd, I’m told.” She dropped my arms. Her eyes glittered bright like stars in the wake of using her magic.

  I pressed my hands to my chest. “It’s agony.”

  She laughed, her head tossing back a little.

  “She’s laughing at my pain,” I said to Ruben.

  “Been there. Done that.”

  Her laughter faded and she glared at Ruben before giving me a pat on the bicep. “Don’t worry, Stygorn. You’ll be as good as new in just about four hours.” She jerked open the heavy service door and called back as she walked through, “Send me a report, Ruben.”

  “Yes, your majesty,” he muttered before telling me, “Let’s go.”

  We headed down the alley beside the Cauldron toward his car parked on Magazine Street.

  “I’m not lying,” I said. “This feels terrible. Like something is missing.”

  Ruben scoffed. “It is missing, Dev. You’re currently a mere human.”

  “Poor souls.” I sighed, glancing toward Mystic Maybelle’s.

  Then my heart lurched. Standing in front of the building was Isadora. She glanced at me then quickly away, trying to pretend she didn’t notice me. Well, that wasn’t going to work for me.

  “Just a minute,” I said to Ruben as he rounded the front of his car and got in.

  As I walked over, she turned her head to me and smiled politely, rocking back on the heels of her open-toed sandals.

  “You need a ride somewhere?” I asked.
>
  “Oh, no. Tia is picking me up.” She nodded her head a little too profusely. “She’s an excellent driver.” Then she winced.

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Unlike me.”

  “That’s not what I meant. It’s just, yeah, I’m all good. You headed somewhere with Ruben?” Her voice was a little high-pitched. She was nervous again.

  “Mm. Who’s Tia?”

  “My best friend.”

  I nodded agreeably. “Where you headed?”

  “To get some dinner. Maybe a few drinks.”

  Narrowing my gaze, I accused a little too haughtily, “But you never have time for going out to dinner. Remember?”

  Her green eyes rounded. She swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing pink.

  She opened her mouth to say something, but I stopped her with a friendly wave of my hand. “Just kidding.” I smiled. “But seriously, I’d like to—”

  A horn honked behind me.

  “Oh! There she is. Sorry. Gotta go.” Then she swished by me, giving me one last glimpse of those emerald eyes and a deep whiff of her jasmine scent.

  She was in the passenger seat and zooming away by the time I made it back to Ruben’s car. I settled into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

  “I know that feeling,” said Ruben, pulling away toward Barrel Proof.

  * * *

  I’d been sitting at a two-top in the back of Barrel Proof for over three hours, nursing a few beers nice and slow. Time was running out for the null on my powers, and I’d hoped I’d have had some luck by now. Barrel Proof was a rustic bar, one long and windowless room. Perfect for watching the patrons.

  The polished dark woods on the floors and walls along with the cowhide rugs gave it a warm, welcoming atmosphere. They were apparently known for their whiskeys, offering over three hundred brands. It was obvious that some of the customers bustling in and out were regulars. Friendly waves to the bartenders and upbeat customers all seemed to fit here, which is why this one guy stood out among the rest.

  There was a long bar that stretched almost the full length of the room. I’d watched a few loners come and go, but for the last forty-five minutes, I had my eye on one guy in particular.

  Though my powers were temporarily nulled, I could still pick out a vampire when I saw him. We had a certain way of moving and observing others that was unnatural. Predatory. That’s why this guy caught my attention.

  Good looking with brown hair and wary eyes that glinted silver when the low light caught them at the right angle, he appeared to be in his twenties. As a vampire, he could be fifty or more with his youthful appearance. He was on his second whiskey since he sat down and kept texting on his phone. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to anyone else’s eyes. But to me, he was giving off definite vibes that had me targeting him and only him.

  It was the way he watched the women in the bar. Focused. Assessing. As if he was running scenarios through his head. He was hunting.

  This wasn’t unusual for a vampire. However, there were rules when acquiring a blood host. She or he had to be willing, so conversation was paramount. He’d made no attempt to speak to anyone, man or woman, since he’d entered the place.

  The other trigger warning was that Barrel Proof wasn’t a vampire den, like Ruben’s Green Light. There were specific clubs where humans who were aware of the supernatural world and wanted to step inside our realm to engage with one of us as a blood host. Humans experienced a pleasurable high from the toxin injected by a vampire bite. They also experienced a certain touch of youthful beauty from the toxin, especially if they engaged as a blood host frequently.

  But the humans here were oblivious to the vampire sitting at the bar, scouting for a victim. They weren’t aware of our world, which made my subject awfully suspicious.

  The door swung open to a trill of feminine laughter. Four lively young women swayed in and found a four-top in the middle of the bar. The vampire’s gaze flashed silver as he focused intently on the newcomers. After about five minutes, he started texting furiously on his cell, his focus rarely leaving the women who bought a round of boilermakers.

  I punched in a quick text to Ruben who was waiting in a dark SUV outside along with a crew of his men.

  Me: We have a hunter. Could be one of our guys.

  Ruben: Is he contacting anyone else?

  Me: Yes. He may be rallying the troops.

  Ruben: Good. Let him bring them in.

  My heart pumped harder, the thrill of catching these pricks sending my adrenaline rushing fast and hard. I drained the last of the draft beer as the vampire became hyper alert.

  I averted my gaze to my phone. Damn. He was definitely getting ready to take action. He had the look of a vampire taking close observation of his surroundings before he went for his target. Before he committed a crime.

  I set my mug down, casually glancing at the door then at the vampire. His gaze was riveted on me. Intense and burning. He shot off a quick text, tossed a bill on the bar, then slipped off his stool and down a corridor toward the restrooms. Probably heading for a back exit.

  “Fuck.”

  I stood and marched after him, texting: He’s on the move. Back entrance. Now.

  Once in the hallway, I ran through the back door, unable to trace without my powers. Ruben’s righthand man Gabriel held the vampire from behind, his arm locked on his throat. Before I could reach them, the captive pulled out his phone and crushed it into shards of splintered glass and metal in his hand.

  I shook my head. “Wish you hadn’t done that.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Ruben appeared out of the night with two of his other men, Sal and Roland. The vampire captive bared his long, sharp canines, struggling in Gabriel’s grip.

  “You can put those away,” I growled. “Nothing will help you now.”

  He scanned me from the top down, scowling and heaving ferocious breaths. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “You’ll find out, oh—” I glanced at my watch—“in about two minutes.”

  His fierce expression was unflinching. That would change as soon as the null wore off and I had him all to myself.

  Something caught my eye at his throat. It was a chain around his neck, but it looked strangely feminine. Reaching forward, I pulled the chain from his shirt, revealing a heart-shaped locket dangling from it.

  “That’s mine!” he bellowed, trying to twist away from me.

  Without even thinking, I tugged and broke it free from his throat as he tried to thrash around. Staring down at the delicate design, I said in a low, fierce tone, “This is most definitely not yours.”

  “She gave it to me.”

  The tiny locket weighed heavily in my palm, its psychic essence leaden in my hand.

  “Who did?” As soon as the question left my lips, a jolt kicked my pulse faster with a lightning flick.

  My magic poured back into me in a feverish flow. I clenched my fists on a groan of pleasure-pain as the rush of power returned, the chain dangling from one of them. Then it happened.

  The memory echo still clinging to the necklace vibrated through my mind, whirling like a paper-thin photograph, coming to life. I stared down at the heart and flipped it over where her name was engraved in swirly script.

  “Emma,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut as the memory echo danced through my mind.

  It’s never clear when this happens. When my psychic ability merges with the Stygorn magic to bounce images through my brain, directed from a single object. Always a personal one to the owner. As if the object holds its own power from the love embedded inside of it. Memory echo was a rare gift only Stygorn possessed, but it’s also uncontrollable. Like the magic deems what’s worthy of me to see, for me to know.

  I could see Emma Thomas, the most recent girl abducted. She lay huddled in a dirty blanket in an alley behind a garbage bin. She was unmoving. The memory blinked, flashing split-second images. The vampire standing in front of me was there leaning over her, whispering something to her as he took her
necklace. He covered her in the blanket. More flashed images. A street name. Industrial buildings. Workers milling about who didn’t know the girl was there, barely breathing only yards away.

  I opened my eyes, hauled back my fist, and punched the fuck out of the vampire still held by Gabriel. The captive’s head snapped to the side as he fell unconscious.

  Before anyone could say a thing, I growled, “He’s dumped Emma Thomas’s body in the back alley in the warehouse district. She’s still alive. Barely.”

  “Roland, get him back to The Green Light and into the vault,” snapped Ruben. “Gabriel, you and Sal come with us.”

  Roland traced away with the captive vampire immediately.

  Then Ruben turned to me. “Lead the way.”

  “Let’s take the SUV.” There were other images still trying to pummel my mind, rippling from the heart-shaped locket. The day her mother gave her the necklace on her sixteenth birthday. The overwhelming love the woman had for her daughter. “We need to get her to the hospital and get word to her family that she’s safe as soon as possible.”

  Gabriel jumped in the driver’s seat and I took the front passenger of the black SUV, Ruben and Sal in the backseat. We tore off toward the warehouse district, which was fairly empty at this time of night. Gabriel slowed when I started giving directions and stared intently out the window, looking for the same buildings from the vision.

  “Turn here.” I followed the beacon burning inside me, pounding into me from the fragile necklace in my palm. “There! Down that alley.”

  Gabriel jerked right. The SUV was too big to fit with the garbage bins, so he jerked it to a stop. I leaped from the vehicle and traced to the exact spot where I’d seen her in the vision, my pulse hammering with fear that we’d be too late.

  But there she was, still unmoving beneath a dirty blanket that her captives had given her. Like that would be enough to keep her from dying out here all alone.

  I knelt and lifted the blanket that partly covered her face, brown hair stuck to her sweaty face. Placing my palm to her neck, which was covered with bruised and healing puncture wounds from vampires, I felt the faint birdlike beat of her heart. Her skin was far too pale, her hands tucked in a ball under her chin like she was trying to get warm. It was spring and not cold at all, but her body felt otherwise. “She’s alive.”