Embrace of the Damned (31 page)

They tangled together when it was over, Jessa drawing lazy circles on his chest. “I wish we could just stay like this forever. Just forget the Blight, the seidhr, Loki, and send Erik home. We could live here, right? Just you and me.”

Broder groaned. “That sounds like paradise.”

She rolled over and tucked herself against his side. “Let’s just pretend for a while.”

They cuddled under the blankets, saying nothing for a long time. Until the phone down the hallway in Jessa’s room rang.

Beside her, Broder stiffened.

“Maybe I should just answer it.”

It had been ringing on and off for the last two days and nights. A constant, unwelcome reminder that they could pretend she wasn’t being hunted by enigmatic, perhaps antagonistic forces, but the reality wasn’t far away.

“We should take the phone out of your room,” Broder growled.

He hadn’t done that yet, though he’d threatened to more than once. Jessa thought she understood why. Ultimately, it was her choice whether or not to answer the phone and perhaps talk to the only blood relative she had. Broder was leaving that door open for her, though she could tell it pained him greatly. If Broder had been a more selfish man, he would have smashed the phone against the wall long ago.

The fact that he hadn’t for her sake only made her love him more.

“If you took the phone out, they’d probably just make a statue or a pair of socks ring.”

“Maybe.”

The phone finally stopped ringing, but the bubble they’d immersed themselves in just moments before was now irreparably popped. Jessa rolled over onto her back. “Maybe we should ask Dmitri what he knows about the situation. He seems to be privy to a lot of information. Maybe he knows more than what he said under the bridge.”

Broder sat up at the edge of the bed. “Seek out a demon to ask for help? Jessa, are you serious?”

She pushed to a sitting position. “Of course I’m serious. Anything to clear up this cloud of doubt hanging over us.”

Broder shook his head, not answering.

“Broder, I’m ready for any kind of explanation at this point. The seidhr won’t talk to the Brotherhood, so what are we supposed to do? Either I answer that phone”—she pointed in the direction of her bedroom—“or we start exploring other options.”

“Seeking out help from
a demon
is not an option, Jessa.” There was a note of derision in his voice and he said
a demon
the way another person might say
a maggot.

Jessa sat for a moment, absorbing his hatred. It was understandable that he would hate demons. She hated them, too, but Dmitri had warned her in the parking garage and given Broder information that had saved her life.

She pushed off the bed and stood up, taking the sheet with her. “You are a snob, Broder.”

Broder went completely still. Then he stood and turned toward her. “A snob? This has nothing to do with that, Jessa. This has to do with your protection.”

“Bullshit. You don’t want to have anything to do with Dmitri because he’s a demon, even if it could help me.”

“You’re right. I want nothing to do with demons. Do you know why?
Because they’re demons.
Nothing good ever came from a demon and nothing good ever will.”

Jessa clenched her fists, fuming. “So, apparently, saving my life wasn’t a good thing, then?” She whirled and went for the door, the sheet trailing behind her. God, the man was pigheaded.

“Jessa!” Broder called after her.

“Don’t talk to me until you’ve come to your senses!” she threw over her shoulder at him right before she slammed the door.

She stalked down the hallway, passing Erik, who watched her with acute curiosity as she swept past him with as much dignity as she could muster and entered her bedroom.

Slamming her door shut behind her, she leaned against it, letting out a long, slow breath. Maybe she’d been too harsh. After all, Broder was working off a thousand years of battle against demons. He’d been watching them prey on innocents all that time. She couldn’t even imagine the number of dead he must have seen as a result of the Blight. Was it really so surprising that he couldn’t trust Dmitri?

She was just frustrated by the lack of movement. With the exception of her new romantic entanglements with Broder, her life right now seemed like it had been put on hold. She’d been working so hard to discover who she was, who her parents had been. Now she felt as though all those answers were close enough to touch. Would she hurt herself if she reached out and took them?

That frustration was at the heart of her blowup at Broder and nothing else.

Sighing, she sought a pair of jeans and a sweater. Once
dressed, she walked to the door. She needed to explain that to Broder and tell him that she understood his reluctance to contact Dmitri … but also tell him she didn’t agree with it. She had no faith she’d be able to budge him on the issue, however.

Just as she touched the doorknob, the phone rang.

She froze, all the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, her hand still on the knob. It rang again. That could be her great-grandfather. It could be the blood kin she’d never had contact with, a connection she craved.

Yet Jessa knew that just because a person might be related to her that didn’t mean the person wouldn’t harm her. Therein lay the risk.

Presumably nothing could hurt her through a mere telephone connection, but who knew for certain? Two weeks earlier she never would have thought it was possible for an inanimate object to ring like a telephone, either, or for a shaman to take the form of another person.

Removing her hand from the doorknob, she waited, every ring of the telephone searing her soul. Taking a few steps closer to it, she let it ring a few more times. She reached out toward it, touched the receiver. Hesitating a moment longer, she decided to take the chance.

She picked up the phone and held it to her ear, saying nothing.

“Jessamine Hamilton?” It was a woman’s voice. It sounded a lot like the voice from her dream, the one about her mother in the cowl, warning her to watch out for the Valkyrie.

How could that be? Was this … her mother?

She could barely speak past the lump in her throat. Her heart pounded out a staccato rhythm. “Yes.”

“I’m Carolyn, your great-aunt.”

“Ah.” Great-aunt, not mother. Of course.
Right.
She swallowed hard. “You’re calling me on a phone that is eighty years old and not hooked into the wall.”

“Yes, I know. It was the only way to contact you. The wards around the keep make it impossible to enter unless
we’re allowed in. I’m sorry if it alarmed you.” Carolyn had the trace of a Scottish accent, but it sounded mixed with other accents, not unlike Broder’s. Perhaps she’d traveled and had lived in many places. Were the seidhr allowed to do that? Jessa’s lack of knowledge frustrated her.

“Were you …” She trailed off, trying to ask a question that still seemed impossible to her mind, but probably would be nothing to a witch. “Have you ever appeared in my dreams?”

“Yes. It’s how I attempted to contact you earlier, but it wasn’t successful.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Came too late, I fear.”

“I thought you were a dream representation of my mother.”

Silence on the other end. “Abigail and I always bore a striking resemblance. You look like her, too, but there’s definitely some of your father in you.”

“You knew my father?”

“Oh, yes, dear. He was a powerful shaman.”

“Wait a minute, how do you know what I look like?”

“We’ve been watching you. Thorgest, your great-grandfather, knew the moment you set foot on Scottish soil. Once Roan made contact with you, discovered your name, we did the research.”

Jessa’s voice hardened. “Why did you send that shaman for me?”

“Roan felt he had no other option. You must understand that this is a difficult situation. You’re with
him
, Jessa.”

“Him, who? Do you mean Broder?”

“Yes. You’re in danger with him.” Her voice had taken on a chilly, strident quality that made gooseflesh rise along Jessa’s arms. “You have no idea the man you’re passing time with, or what horrors he’s capable of.”

“That’s silly. Broder is protective, caring. He would never hurt me, not in a million years.”

“The magick for this call is fast fading. I’m warning you, Jessa, get out of there. Come to us. We’ll guide you.” The
sound of her voice flickered, cutting out and then growing softer. “Leave Broder’s keep and come to us. You’ll know where to find us because your blood will tell you. Do it now, Jessa.”

“But I have questions. Why is it so urgent I leave now?”

The line was dead. Carolyn was gone.

Jessa lowered the receiver into the cradle and stared down at it. As tempted as she was to meet with her great-aunt in person, she still wasn’t sure of their intentions. Broder a threat? Yeah, sure, a threat to the bad guys, but, surely, not to her.

Did that reasoning mean that the seidhr were bad guys? They definitely could be. Why wouldn’t they give any straight answers to her questions?

She just couldn’t be sure of anything right now. Anything, that was, but herself.

Looking at the stack of papers Broder had been bringing her, she chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. Maybe she couldn’t connect in a meaningful way with the seidhr yet, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t explore who she was on her own.

Broder hovered outside Jessa’s door. He could feel her presence beyond the heavy wood and it comforted him. Stubborn woman didn’t know what was best for her. She was reckless and impulsive.

Meet with Dmitri and ask him for help? That was crazy. Any risk to Jessa was too big a risk. Couldn’t she understand that? He would never rest easy with threats arranged against her. Leaving that phone in her room had been a serious hardship.

Allowing her contact with Dmitri was far worse.

He knocked on the door and it opened right away. Jessa pushed a piece of paper at him. “I need everything on that list, please.” Then she turned and went to sit at the little table by the fireplace, riffling through the documents he’d given her.

He read the list she’d thrust at him. Tincture of bladder wrack, the hair of a sloth, scrapings from a mossy rock. “Jessa—”

“Please, Broder.” She rounded on him. “This is the only way I can connect to my birthright. Just get me the stuff, okay?”

He studied her for a long moment. She wanted to use untried magick? She, an untried witch? “You mean to work a spell from the information I gave you.”

She glanced up at him. “I mean to work magick, yes. I have to do it, Broder, can’t you understand? It’s like having hives all over my body; I gotta scratch.”

He nodded, studying the list again. “I can get these things, with Erik’s help.”

“Just like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was counting on a big argument. You’re just going to agree to it?”

He nodded. “You can’t connect with the seidhr, so this is the second best thing. I get it.”

“You’re not afraid I’ll blow up the keep?”

He blinked. “A little.”

She made a scoffing sound and returned to her papers, shaking her head. “You’re about as comforting as a kiss from a gummy bear and a hug from a rainbow, do you know that, Broder?”

He hovered in the doorway, at a loss for words. She seemed unhappy. Dealing with women on this level, he was out of his depth in a major way. Especially one from this century.

A thousand years of fighting demons had never prepared him for this.

Jessa added the last of the crushed evergreen and immediately felt the telltale tingle that signaled the rising of her power. It started in the pit of her stomach, like a nervous quiver.

If she concentrated on it, and didn’t fear it, it rose into her chest like a stem growing and flower unfurling to the first rays of sunlight. If she doubted herself, if she feared it, it died with a little gasp that made her queasy.

She had mixed up three different potions so far, smearing the paste into three different “talismans,” what were essentially objects of focused power. All of them were items she’d found around the keep. One was a small wooden container, another a silver locket, the third an antique ring that Broder said she could use. Each one had a place where she could dropper a small amount of her concoctions.

She wasn’t sure why the mixing of these compounds worked the way they did, but she suspected strongly that the natural magick she carried within her combined with the ingredients and that an ordinary human would end up with only smelly glop.

Sitting back on her heels, she studied the objects, sensing the magick inside her that wanted out, that wanted to get at those talismans and fuel them, make beautiful things happen. Her magick was like a cobra coiled in her chest, ready to strike.