Something Wanton (Mystics & Mayhem) (44 page)

“Do you know who killed her?”

“I have an idea, yes,” she said, nodding once, stiffly.  “I believe the hunters killed that poor woman.  It’s a tactic demon hunters usually use to draw out demons.  They’ve even used the ploy while hunting vampires, because the fools have no idea that vampires are a completely different creature altogether.  They make a very public killing, using methods to make it look like demons are responsible, then sit back and wait for their prey to come to them.  Demons are territorial, you see, as are vampires.  They don’t like attention drawn to them or others hunting on their turf.  It’s a ploy that almost always works.”

I knew from Tyler’s Darkling 101 lectures that she was right about demons being territorial.  He had made a point to cover that twice so he would be sure I got it.  We don’t like company that shows up uninvited.  It usually ends badly for the visitor.

“Do you have any other reasons for believing me to be such a coldhearted fiend that I would allow people I care about to die?”

“Yes, actually.”  I didn’t even blink when she sucked in a hissing breath through her teeth.  Her days of intimidating me were long over.  “I have a source, you see.  From the information he gave us, you’re the most likely suspect.”

“And what exactly did this source tell you?” she asked.  The tone of her voice was very familiar to me.  I had heard it repeatedly while in her class when she was trying to lead a student to the right answer.

“That a witch has been helping
Hamilton try to kill me,” I told her.

“A witch,” she said, nodding as if I was headed in the right direction.  “But did he name me specifically?  Or was it simply implied?”

“Did you know they classify witches?” I countered, examining my fingernails like I was bored.

I had to find out how much she knew about my father before I could proceed.  My dad might have sold me out to his organization, but I wasn’t going to return the favor.  Somehow I didn’t think the witches and vampires in the area would be very happy about the fact that they were being watched, even if it was just to record their lives.  Witches and vamps are kind of fanatical about their privacy.

“Yes, I am aware of that,” Ms. Cantrell said, smirking.  “The Guild is a very old organization, Miss Blaylock.  They have always been there in the background, studying us.  So what did your father tell you?”

Damn.  Was there
anything
the old bat didn’t know?  Okay, playing the secret source card wasn’t going to work.  So maybe it was time for brutal honesty.  Knowing her, she would react much better to that tactic, anyway.  It irked me to no end to know we had that in common.

“That a Class A witch betrayed us all,” I told her, my voice colder than the blizzard beyond the window.

“There must be ten Class A witches in this area,” she scoffed.

“Only five, actually,” I told her, leaning forward, my hands gripping the back of the chair.  “Grams and Mrs. Val, who I think we can pretty much rule out, a hermit who hasn’t left her house in years, and…”

I left the sentence hanging for effect.  If she knew they classified witches, she knew what class she and her sister fell into.  Her face paled visibly and her eyes widened.  I smiled coldly.  She knew I had her and she knew I knew it, too.  Unless she was going to implicate Mrs. Amelia, she was as good as caught.

“What did I ever do to make you hate me so much that you would do this?” I asked softly.

“Oh, Miss Blaylock, you are sadly mistaken if that’s what you believe,” she said, watching me closely.  “I don’t hate you, child.  I pity you.  I can see where you’re headed, and I know what will happen to you when you reach the end of the road you’re traveling down.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I told her, wanting to keep her talking.  We were almost there.  She was going to tell me something, I just had to be patient.  Not the easiest thing to do, considering what was at stake.

“Push my hair back,” she said, taking me by surprise.  When I didn’t move to do as she asked, she smiled at me.  “Please, Ember.  I want to show you something that I hope will help you understand.”

I honestly don’t know what shocked me more, her request or the fact that she had just used my name.  Frowning in confusion, I reached over carefully—I wouldn’t have put it past her to take a bite out of me—and pushed her hair back over her shoulder.  For a second, I just stared at what I found, a knot form
ing in the pit of my stomach.  It changed everything for me and I wasn’t so sure that we had the right person after all.  Suddenly, I wasn’t sure of
anything
.

“I was seventeen years old when I found my mate, a year younger than you,” she said softly, as I stared at the mark on her neck.  It was in the shape of a fleur-de-lis surrounded by flowering vines.  “He gave me that the night before he disappeared.  He marked me and then he left me.”

“Your mate was a
vampire
?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“Yes, he was.”  Her voice was hard and I saw the shadow of old agony in her eyes.  “You remind me so very much of myself.  Look at me now, Ember.  This is what happens to the young and naïve when they place their faith in the wrong person.”

I shook my head, denying what she was saying both to her and to myself.  Her mate might have left her, and that was really terrible, but mine had fought to keep
me
from leaving
him
.  Nathan was a good man, despite some of the things he’d done, and I believed in him.  I wasn’t going to let her shake that faith.  Besides, my love life wasn’t the issue up for debate.

“Ms. Cantrell, are you helping
Hamilton?” I asked, straight out.

“No, I am not,” she said, looking me right in the eye.  If she was lying, she was
really
good at it, because I found that I believed her.  “But I suggest you find out who is, and that you do it quickly.  Because if you don’t, this may very well be the last conversation you or I ever get to have.”

“What did she tell you?” Nathan asked the second I walked into the chapel.

Rather than answer, I examined the amazing room I’d just entered.  The walls that weren’t covered
in books were paneled in honey colored oak that gleamed with oil in the soft recessed lighting overhead.  The bookshelves themselves soared up two stories, the second story accessed by a catwalk with a lovely wrought iron railing.  Flowers of every color filled vases in niches along the wall, filling the space with a clean, fresh scent.  After seeing nothing but beige for the last several hours, so much color was a welcome sight.

“Nothing.”  I shrugged when they all looked at me, disappointment evident on their faces.  “I don’t think she had anything to tell.
I think we might have made a mistake.”

They all stared at me like I’d lost my mind.  I wasn’t about to tell them
why
I believed we had screwed up and gotten the wrong person, but I knew deep down that we had.  Maybe my dad’s info had been wrong.  Maybe there was a Class A blood witch they didn’t know about in the area.  Maybe it hadn’t been a witch at all.

It didn’t really matter how we had screwed up, but we had.  And, because of our mistake, we had lost valuable time.  We were no closer to finding the traitor now than we had been when my dad showed up.

“What progress did you guys make?”  If they hadn’t had any better luck than I’d had, we were screwed.  “Were you able to reach your friends?  Since we don’t know who betrayed us, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“The Nosferatu
have decided not to get involved,” Skippy said, watching me as I started to pace.  “The general consensus was that this is witch business and should be handled by witches.  I could have ordered them to fight with us, but that would have been…counterproductive.”

“
Well that sucks,” I said, grimacing and turning around to face the rest of the group.  “Anybody else?”

“I’ve contacted the bandraoithe in other areas,” Grams offered, holding her hands up in a helpless gesture.  “I wouldn’t expect a lot of help on that front.  Word circulated quickly about what happened here and most
went into hiding immediately.”

“All right,” I sighed, nodding.  “Anybody else?”

“There are three mor
e of my fallen brethren in the States,” Tyler said, drawing my attention to him.  “They have offered their unique talents.  One refuses to fight, but she has offered to act as a healer for us.  The other two were archangels before they fell.  They like to fight and they’re
very
good at it.”

“Hell yeah!” I said excitedly.  “That’s more like it! More fallen angels! Awesome!”

I smiled at him and Tyler returned it with a tight one of his own.  Somehow, that dimmed my enthusiasm.  Tyler had been the one to call them in, but he didn’t look very happy about the angelic family reunion.  I would have to get the particulars on why later.  Maybe they just didn’t play well together.

I turned to look at Nathan when every other eye in the room turned in his direction.  He was glancing back and forth between me and Skippy nervously, like he wasn’t sure how his news was going to be taken.

“You did
not
!” Skippy gasped, his eyes widening in horror.  “Have you taken complete leave of your senses, Nathaniel?”

I turned to look at Nathan again to see him watching me.  The look on his face was hard to decipher. I saw fear, but I also saw determination and a strange kind of pride.

“Mikhail and his team should be here within the hour,” he said, smiling bitterly when I gasped too.  “I haven’t called on him for anything in more than two centuries.  He’s eager to meet the young lady who would force me to break my vow of eternal silence, as he put it.  Strangely enough, he relocated to St. Louis back in September, around the same time I returned from Spain to do a favor for an old friend and found myself enchanted by my charge.”

The rest of our group didn’t seem to be taking the news that Nathan’s creator was on his way any better than Skippy had.  Grams was frowning at Nathan, like she thought there was more to his story than he was telling.  Ainsley simply seemed horrified.  Zan looked incredulous—which I found less than reassuring. 

Tyler was pissed.  He crossed his arms over his chest, his aura already starting to shimmer, and stared at Nathan with a hard, cold look on his face that I didn’t even want to try to understand.  Mrs. Val and Riley didn’t look much happier. 

Kim and Blake were looking confused by everyone’s reaction to the news that Nathan’s creator was on his way.  I sympathized with them.  I was pretty damned confused myself.

About why Nathan would do something so blatantly
stupid,
that is.

“They’re an elite force,” Nathan said softly, never taking his eyes off me.  “Never in four centuries have I seen them lose a fight.  Mikhail assured me they would handle the situation and then they would leave.  I have no reason to doubt his word.”

“Other than the fact that he’s Mikhail,” Zan said, voicing the thought I could see was going through everyone else’s minds.  If I hadn’t known already how serious the situation was, I would have known then.  Zan was never serious.  About anything.  When Nathan shot him a shut-the-hell-up kind of glare, Zan ignored it and kept right on going.  “You know you can’t trust him to keep his word, Nate.  What will you do if he decides he wants our Firecracker?  You’re not strong enough to stop him and you know it.”

“Want me?” I repeated, giving Nathan a narrow-eyed look.  He immediately dropped his eyes to his feet.  “Why would Mikhail want me, Nathan?”

“Mick likes the pretty ones,” Zan said when Nathan didn’t answer me.  Nathan glared at him again, but Zan just gave him a grim smile.  “He especially likes the ones that can be
useful
to him.  I’m sure he’ll find
you
irresistible, Firecracker.  You’re beautiful and passionate and strong and you possess the kind of power that hasn’t been seen in…well…maybe ever.”

Oh, that’s just
perfect
,
I thought as my head dropped back and my eyes drifted closed.  I had hunters trying to kill me.  We had a traitor helping them, and we had yet to figure out who it was.  Kim and Nathan needed a full-time referee.  My dad was some kind of supernatural snitch.  Tyler was in love with me, and there was a chance that
my
feelings for
him
weren’t entirely platonic.  And there were some seriously powerful, seriously
scary
, beings headed our way that weren’t guaranteed to play nice.

Yeah, uh-huh, I
needed
something else to worry about! 

“Are you saying this jerk collects
people
?” I snapped scathingly, glaring at Nathan hot enough to make him wince.   “So…what?  I’m like a rookie card or a vintage Barbie or something now?”

“Em—” Nathan began.

“You!  Outside!” I hissed, pointing toward the door of the library.  I stomped away before he could say anything, and stopped with my hand on the door when I didn’t hear footsteps following me. 

I turned to find Nathan standing right where I’d left him, looking at the others like they might be able to save him.  No one was quick to volunteer to intervene.  With a
long, drawn out sigh he followed me out of the library and down the hall.  I didn’t stop walking until we were outside, and far enough away from the sensitive ears inside that we wouldn’t be overheard.  Then I stopped, crossed my arms over my chest, called up my shield of dead people, and waited for Nathan to join me.

“I can explain, Em,” he said before I could really tear into him.  “He won’t take you.  No vampire can claim another’s mate once the soul mate bond has been completed.  He won’t want one he can’t claim.  That’s why I felt it was safe to call him in.”

“So this creeper just goes around claiming whatever he wants?” I asked, narrowing my eyes when Nathan’s expression went all blank and shuttered again.  “What does that even mean, Nathan?”

“He brands them,” he said, his voice as emotionless as his expression. 

“You mean he marks them?”

“No, I mean he
brands
them,” Nathan said, a flicker of anger lighting in his eyes.  “It’s very painful, like having hot steel pressed into your flesh.  And he doesn’t care if the one he wants has been claimed before.  I’ve seen him take others that another vampire has previously marked.  Whatever he does, it severs the connection between his prize and any previous claims made on it.  The only exception is a soul mate bond.  It’s the only claim he’s never managed to find a way to break.”

That was just disgusting as far as I was concerned.  Just thinking about it made me remember the brand on
Kim’s neck.  Mikhail and Hamilton were two of a kind.  We had called in one sadist to get rid of another. 

Then, I had another thought, one even more horrible.  I looked at Nathan for a long, silent minute, building up my nerve to voice it out loud.  Mikhail only took the ones he could claim for himself…Mikhail had turned Nathan… 

Did that mean Nathan was
branded
?

“You ha
ve one, don’t you?” I whispered, too sick at the thought to manage more than that.

“Not anymore,” he said softly, reaching for me.

The snow had slacked off a little and it fell around us in soft flakes as he held me close and kissed the top of my head.  That wonderful quiet had descended on the world again and it felt like nobody else existed but the two of us.  I held on to him, a very real fear starting to eat through me that I was about to lose him somehow.  If Mikhail tried to take him, we were going to find out just what Tyler’s angel blood had done to my powers, because I would use every single one of them to keep that from happening.

“Why don’t you have a brand anymore?” I asked softly after a few minutes.

“I don’t have a brand anymore because I met this crazy, bullheaded, charming, incredibly beautiful little witch who drives me mad, terrifies me, tests my patience, and loves me
almost
as much as I love her,” Nathan said, kissing the top of my head again.  “A soul bond trumps all other claims, baby.  I no longer belong to Mikhail.  I belong to
you
now, just like you belong to me.”

“Almost as much?” I repeated, giving him a mock frown.  “Please, dude!  You know I love you more.  And you have to agree because Skippy loves me, and I can get him to kick you out of our super army.”

“She’s a legend in her own mind,” he muttered playfully, holding me closer.

I giggled and he caught it with a slow, sweet, drugging kiss.  The ghosts made their presence known then with a few deep chuckles and even a gagging sound that made another giggle bubble up in my chest.

“Oh, God!  They’re
disgustingly
sweet!” one of them groaned as my body started shaking with silent laughter.

“Actually, I’m finding them quite delightful,” a cultured, accented voice replied.

“Yeah, true love.  Ain’t it
grand
?” another voice that sounded entirely too much like Snake drawled sarcastically.

“What are you finding so amusing?” Nathan asked when I couldn’t hold my laughter in anymore, scowling down at me.  “Are you laughing at my kissing technique?  That’s a real kick to the ego, you know?”

“No!” I choked out, still laughing.  “I’m laughing at our audience.  They think we’re disgustingly sweet and delightful.”

“Ah, I forgot about the ghosts,” he said, rolling his eyes up and scowling at my unseen protectors.  “Do you think you and I are ever going to get another minute alone without being interrupted by smartass ghosts or flying doors or bullets?”

“Not today,” I chuckled, wrapping my arms around his neck and winking up at him.  “We can always try again tomorrow, though.  Oh, and the next day and the next.”

“And every day for the rest of our very long lives?” he whispered against my lips.

“Yeah, that was the idea,” I whispered back.

Before I could seal that promise with another kiss, my stomach dropped into my feet and every nerve in my body went on red-alert.  Something was coming, something with enough energy to put the curls back into my hair.  It was a gut-clenching kind of power.  Even the ghosts became restless, their energy spiking noticeably and bathing me in a
nother wash of frigid air.  

Something silvery caught in the corner of my eye and I turned to see what it was—and then just stared at the group of people behind us that had appeared out of nowhere.  Their arrival had been silent as death.  I thought that was fitting. 

Because rumor had it that death was what they usually brought with them. 

One man, in particular, caught and kept my attention. He was beautiful, tall and muscular, like Nathan, with silvery white hair that was cut close to his head.  He wore his power like a second skin.  He was a man used to getting what he wanted and it showed in the way he held himself.

I was sure he was the source of the power that had the hair on the back of my neck and on my arms standing straight up.  A bright, neon red
Danger!
signal went off in my mind as we stared at each other.