Raven Cursed: A Jane Yellowrock Novel (29 page)

And that meant the thing in the middle might be a demon.

Crapcrapcrap
crap!

The snoring changed pitch, breaking into my awareness. It had been so regular I had forgotten it. And perhaps the thing-in-the-circle had forgotten it too, because at the change, it whirled and raced to the far side of the ward. It grew horizontal again, and I realized it was spreading wings, diaphanous as mist. It snapped its wings closed and raised its head. I could see a shadow beak, like a hawk’s, open with a cry.

Maybe the thing-in-the-circle had begun to affect me as well, because I could suddenly breathe easier. I pressed down with a front paw, pushing against the floor. My body moved back, sliding. I pulled that paw to me, using the other paw to apply pressure to the floor. Slowly I pushed Beast’s body away from the thing-in-the-circle and back toward the steps.

Jane?
Beast thought at me, sounding disoriented.

It’s okay. I got us out. Can you walk?

Beast yawned and shook her head before flowing into a stretch, the kind cats do after a nap.
Can walk. But not close to lightning.

The wall on the other side of the room isn’t solid. There’s something on the other side. Can you get us there?

Beast stood, her balance only a little affected. I released control of her body and pulled back, away from the centers of her brain used for motor control. Being in charge of her body—that had felt seriously freaky. Beast walked around the room, her right side sliding along the walls as if she were scent-marking them. Beast pressed a paw against the back wall. It opened with a creak; the section of the wall was a hidden door. Scent spilled out, as if it had been spelled to remain inside, but opening the door broke the ward, releasing it. The thing-in-the-circle thrashed; the sizzle of electricity as it bounded around its cage was like the
sound of searing meat. I drew farther into Beast’s mind and let her take over.

Wolf den,
I thought to Jane. I growled. Dropped head, showing teeth. Room was dark, dim light spilling in from behind. Wolves did not attack. I looked back, to see caged thing hitting ward, black lightning sparking. Looked again into room filled with wolf smell. I was smart hunter; would not enter place of darkness. Saw white place on wall, switch for light, and raised up. Lifted switch with paw pad. Light filled room, faster than sunrise. Room was full of big cages, stacked along wall. Like cages in place for doctor of dog.

Only if the dogs are big as ponies,
Jane thought.

Only two cages were full. Werewolves. I hacked with laughter.
Werewolves in cages. Good. Catch wolves. Cage them. Kill them.
I gathered for leap.

No,
Jane thought.
No killing. Well, not yet.

I hissed.
Want to kill wolves.
Wolves were in human form. Big hairy male, the one Jane called Fire Truck, and smaller male—Weasel. Sleeping.

Naked again. What is it about Evangelina and nudity.

Smell blood. Wolf blood.
Padded close, to see cuts on wolves’ bodies, gaping open, not healed. I stretched out neck, nose to cage, opened mouth. Sniffed/tasted. Smell of poison.

Not poison. Something else.
I sniffed again.
The cuts won’t heal because she used silver to make them. And the wolves didn’t fight back when she did. They let her. Oh
crap
. She slipped them a Mickey. Evangelina was the woman with the umbrella at the Cajun restaurant. She tracked them and took them down somehow and brought them here.

Smell vampire blood too. Smell Lincoln Shaddock.

Jane was silent, unable to speak, thinking too fast for Beast to follow.

Spell in witch circle is to summon two-natured, moon-called,
I thought.
Tried to summon us when we got close. But we are Beast. Better than Jane or big-cat alone. Better than wolves, better than Lincoln vampire.
Tilted head. Thought for a moment, thought like Jane. Thinking like Jane hurt.
Lincoln Shaddock was dead and undead, two-natured but not
two-natured. We are two-natured, but not two-natured.
Shook head as if flea nipped at ear. Magic was confusing.

She’s had Shaddock in her bed and basement, wolves in cages, a body in a rug.
Jane made blowing sound again, frustrated.
You’re right. Perhaps a summoning affected him. Vamps are dead and undead. With the whole being-alive-at-night thing, maybe they’re moon-called too. Weres are two-natured and full-moon-called. Why summon either?

Jane went quiet.
Unless she expected
Leo
to be here. Rick said it was scuttlebutt, and maybe she had heard the rumors. Maybe getting Leo here, where she would be at the center of her power and he was cut off from his clans, was her intention all along.

Thoughts for daytime. We spend too long in Evangelina den, wolf den. Must go.
I turned, walked to door and pawed switch off. Wolf den with cages went dark. I walked into room with witch circle, leaving door open. No lever handle to pull it shut. Felt pull of spell on floor. Jane put hand on my mind, held off summoning.

Thing-in-the-circle stared at us. I could sense its . . .

Bewilderment,
Jane thought.
It can’t understand why we aren’t being drawn inside with it.

I moved around wall, back to stairs, and up. Summoning spell weakened. Was gone when we reached top of stairs. I pushed Jane away.
Beast is alpha.
Closed door behind us. Went to window. Evangelina was still in circle, body covered in blood. She was lying on side. Sleeping. I opened door and slipped through. Raced off of porch and leaped across brush, to land, silent, on rock and pebble path. Looked over shoulder to see Evangelina, bloody, asleep. Another leap took us deep into shadows under low tree. We turned again to look at witch, sleeping, covered in blood. Hacked softly. Stupid kit mistake.

Let’s shift, call Adelaide’s driver service, and get back to the hotel. I have a lot of research to do. On demons.

Back at the hotel, I picked up my cell and made a few calls, the first to Evan—and he actually answered even though he had to see my number on the readout. I described the scene at Evil Evie’s and he said, “I need to think about this. You will not interfere, do you understand? Break the spell at the wrong point and you could kill Molly.”

“Sure. Whatever.” I hung up, ticked off, though I knew he could handle the demon situation better than I could any day.

I left a message for the sheriff that the wolves were currently caged and no danger to the public. I deliberately didn’t leave any details, and figured that would irritate him—I enjoyed baiting cops. I punched END with a little grin, turned on the gas logs and the laptop, curled on the bed, and went Internet hopping.

There were a gazillion sites about demons on the Internet, most stupid, but maybe a half gazillion that could offer something to me. I refined my search, adding in beak, wings, moon-called, werewolves, and started a list on a pad. There were demons of all kinds: Christian, pagan, Jewish, tribal, ancient, fictional, mythical, modern, European, American tribal Indian, Eastern, Middle Eastern, Asian. I began a list, trying to ignore the weird feeling that a predator was standing across the room with its eyes on my neck. Just nerves, but still. Demons were scary.

When I had a page full of demon names, I closed the laptop and leaned back on the bed, pillows piled behind me. This wasn’t working. There were too many possibilities. The gas fireplace cast both heat and flickering shadows, warming the room enough for me, even wearing only boy-shorts and a thin tank top. I should be desperate for sleep, but I was too wired to close my eyes, and the sunlight that poured around the edges of the blackout blinds assured me I should be up and around, not exhausted and depleted. All I could see was the demon in the circle as I/we walked away from it.

I wasn’t used to sitting on my hands, doing nothing, but charging in to Evil Evie’s basement and attacking the thing in the circle would likely cause more harm than good, and maybe release a demon to wreak havoc on Earth. I could call the cops, but that would just endanger humans. I could call Leo. And if he came and killed Evangelina, any hope of future parley between vamps and witches was ended for this generation because the witches would hold all vamps accountable for the death. It would be the next generation before younger witches would be willing to try again. In all honesty, that didn’t bother me. But if Leo interfered, and the spell went kaboom, it might hurt Mol. Or, I could go to the café and tell the sisters but that was going to be a problem no matter how I might phrase it. “Hi, girls. Your crazy-as-a-bat sister—the one screwing a vamp—has kidnapped two werewolves, stored them in cages in the basement, drained their blood, and summoned a demon. Oh, and she’s sleeping outside buck naked, covered in spelled blood, and has a dead man rolled up in a carpet in her house.” Yeah. Like that was gonna work. Not.

Worse—Evangelina had stolen Shaddock’s blood as well. What did the mixture of were and vamp blood do to a spell cast by a water witch who had a demon in a magical cage? As usual, I was in the dark and flying by the seat of my pants. I dialed Molly and was shunted directly to voice mail. I hung up without leaving a message.

I was between a demon and the deep blue sea. I was screwed no matter what I did. I’d have to depend on Evan to handle it. I curled up and closed my eyes. Despite my worry, I fell asleep.

* * *

The door opened and Rick walked in, shutting the door behind him. I was dreaming, that kind where you know it’s a dream but you’re paralyzed, unable to move, unable to participate. He stood in the firelight for a moment, his eyes adjusting, before he dropped his jacket to the floor and toed off his boots. Pulled his T-shirt off. His pants slid to the floor.

Naked, he crawled onto the bed. Toward me. “Want to play?” Shadows danced over his body as he crawled, catlike, up the mattress, looking long and lean and somehow deadly. I had never seen Rick by firelight. It warmed his olive skin to golden, shadowing and highlighting. The planes of his face were sharper, his cheekbones leaner. The muscles of his chest and abdomen were ridged muscle. He was bruised purple and green across his ribs, but in my dream, he wasn’t sore, his movements smooth and effortless. Big-cat claw-scars crisscrossed his chest, looking too white, smooth as old marble. I could feel the heat of his body as he crawled up over me, hands and knees to either side, straddling me, trapping me beneath the covers. His dark eyes seized mine, a reflection of fire in his irises. His hair fell forward over his face, black and wavy, curling on the ends. He looked oddly like Leo in a long ago dream.

Slowly, he lowered his face and touched his cheek to mine, sliding along my jaw to the other side and back. Scent marking motions. I pulled in a breath that tasted and smelled of man and cat. I struggled to move, snared by the dream, my hands sleep-paralyzed beneath the covers. His lips brushed my chin and up to my mouth, featherlight, soft as a kitten’s fur. I chuckled. And the sound woke me. And he was still here.

Heat flooded through me. It wasn’t a dream. I raised my head to meet his mouth, but he pulled away, teasing. Heat became irritation in a flash. I dropped my head and pulled my arms free, my limbs now obeying me. I set my palms to his chest, pushing him way. Rick’s hands captured mine, pulling my arms to the side, pinning me to the mattress with his weight, the comforter separating us. He was much stronger than before, and although I jerked, I was held in place. “No, no.” His mouth touched me again. His breath warm, soft puffs. “Not until we talk.”

“Talk?”
He wanted to talk
now
?

“We can only play,” he whispered, his words brushing my face. “I can infect with sex, maybe even with protection, so nothing more. Just play.” His voice dropped to a low growl. “I’ve missed playing with you, Jane.”

The growl melted my annoyance away like water on hot stones. Beast raised up and looked through my eyes, hungry for the mate she had claimed. She showed me an image of two cats hissing at each other, a large male and a young female. He smelled musky and strong. She wanted him to chase her. She swiped out at his muzzle, drawing blood. Spun away. He lunged. She let him catch her.

I chuckled. Rick traced my jaw with his lips, teeth nipping gently. “Sounds nice for me,” I said. I tilted my head back so he could nuzzle my neck. His blunt human incisors bit down gently over my carotid and jugular, my pulse caught in his teeth. He bit down harder. Just to the edge of pain. I gasped. “What do you get out of it?” I managed.

He slid lower, taking the comforter with him. And sucked my nipple into his mouth. My gasp became a moan, the texture of my tank top abrading my skin, heated and wet. Sucking hard, he pulled more of my breast into his mouth. Arched his back, pulling his head away, maintaining the suction, elongating breast and nipple, his teeth grazing as he released. His mouth descended again, this time taking mine. His mouth punishing hard. My lips opened. His tongue plundered before sucking mine into his mouth. I wanted my arms around him. When I tugged them away he pressed them harder, into the mattress. His chest brushed mine, my nipples tightening painfully. I moaned into his mouth, and he laughed. Pulled away.

“I get a lot out of it. I get to follow Kem’s orders,” he whispered, releasing my hands, sliding his fingers up my arms, “
and
spend part of the day in your bed.” He brushed his hands down my sides, along my breasts, close, not touching the sensitive peeks, one cooling and wet.

“Oh.” I licked my lips; they were bruised and tender. “What orders did Kem give?”

He shoved the comforter away and gathered the hem of the tank. Pulled it from me. The air, though warm, was still
cooler than Rick, and I tightened as it swept over me. His hands skimmed lower, warm, calloused fingers sliding into the top of the boy-shorts. “Later,” he whispered. And I forgot everything else.