Tegan's Magic (The Ultimate Power Series #3) (21 page)

“What is that stuff?” I ask.

“A demonic healing lotion. It will extract all of the evil from your father's pores. I know it simply looks like he's been burned, and he has been, but that's not the whole case. The blisters are a symptom of the infestation.”

“Infestation?” I squeak.

“That's right. Any human who spends time in hell becomes infected by its atmosphere. As I mentioned before, human constitutions are not made to survive there, in any alternate dimension in fact.” Edwards turns to Finn and Ira. “Boys, you wouldn't mind turning him over for me, would you?”

They both do as he asks, rolling my dad over onto his front. I choke down the urge to gasp in horror when I see his back, because branded into his skin are the numbers 666.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Finn swears, taking in the sight before him.

Edwards picks up another bottle, this one with blue liquid, and pours it directly onto the numbers. “Those appear more sinister than they are,” he explains. “When the dimension cottoned on to the fact that I was trying to take your father home, it marked him to make things harder for me.”

“How would that make things harder?” Finn asks.

“Imagine it like an infernal tracking device. With the mark on him, Martin couldn't be moved without the dimension knowing about it.”

“So how did you manage to move him then?” I put in.

“Ah, now that would be telling. All of us demons have our tricks.” He taps the side of his nose.

The blue liquid sizzles into the numbers and they disappear. “You see,” says Edwards. “Easily reversed.” He pauses and frowns. “It's saving his mind that's going to be the hard part. Tegan, this might be difficult for you to hear, seen as you've only just had him returned to you, but I may need to bring Martin to England with me for a time. If I can't heal his mind here then I'll need better resources, and I only have those kinds of things back at my home.”

I absorb this information and steel myself. I don't want Edwards taking my dad all the way to England, but if it means he'll get better then I'm all for it. “Whatever it takes,” I say to him.

“Very good. Could you have his passport ready for me, just in case?”

I shake my head. “I don't know where any of his things are. He sold our house before all of this happened. I have no clue where he was living before he got taken for the ritual.”

“I can help you out with that,” Finn pipes in. “I know a fella who knows a fella. I'll get a new passport sorted for you.”

I smile at him in thanks, even though I know I don't deserve his help. I hate it when people are too nice for their own good, because it always makes me feel like a user.

We all watch in silence as Edwards finishes smearing various kinds of liquids over my dad. I bring him a towel to wipe his hands off with once he's done. I cover my dad's body again with the thin sheet. His breathing is deep now, as the healing lotions work their way through his system.

“Tegan, would it be too much trouble for you to arrange a place for me to stay tonight? If there's no room I can find a hotel, but I am very tired.”

“Are you serious? It's no trouble at all. After everything you've done for me I should be putting you up in a golden palace. We don't have any free rooms here, but do you remember my vampire friend, Ethan?”

“Cristescu, I do indeed,” says Edwards with a nod.

“Well he happens to have a spare bedroom going, and he lives just across the street. I'm sure he won't mind putting you up.”

Edwards seems delighted with this and we pack up his things, before Delilah and I escort him over to Ethan's. I'm glad Delilah's around to let us into the house, because I'm a little embarrassed to see Ethan. Just thinking about what happened last night makes me blush.

Thankfully, Lucas is the one to answer the door. Delilah flounces in by him, showing Edwards to the spare bedroom. I stand in the hallway as Lucas regards me with a smirk.

“What?” I narrow my eyes at him.

“Ethan was looking for you.”

“Was he now,” I glance away, leaning my hand against the staircase.

“Yep. I heard you gave him a, eh, haircut.”

Scowling, I ignore him and walk into the living area. God, do those two tell each other everything?

I've never had the chance to have a look around the place before. All of the furniture is brand spanking new and unused. It reminds me of how Ethan was pushed out of his home before he even had the chance to collect his belongings.

When I turn around the vampire himself is standing in the doorway, watching me. He comes at me like a panther, all smooth muscles and potential for danger.

Wrapping his arms around my waist, he kisses me on the neck, right where my pulse is currently pounding. “I hear congratulations are in order. Edwards brought your dad home. We should celebrate,” he whispers into my skin.

“You haven't seen my dad. If you had you wouldn't be much in the mood for celebrating.”

“He'll get better.”

“I hope you're right.”

He slips his hand beneath my top to brush against my skin. “I didn't get quite enough time with you last night,” he says into my ear, all husky.

“Yeah about that,” I pause, turning in his arms so that I can look him in the eye. “It can't happen again, at least not for a while. I need to focus on my dad. Not to mention Rita's acting weird and Emilia's got Rebecca.”

“Emilia?” Ethan frowns. I'd forgotten I hadn't told him about my newly discovered grandmother. I thought Delilah would have filled him in.

“She's a witch, a powerful one. She's also my grandmother. It's a long story. Basically she was helping me with a spell for Rebecca, but then she decided she liked the little girl so much that she wanted to keep her. She has some issues because my mother ran away from home when she was a teenager, never to be seen again. Once the spell was completed, she took off with Rebecca and now has herself barricaded into her house with a spell so that Pamphrock can't get in and take his daughter back.”

Ethan regards me seriously, then grins. “That's quite a mouthful,
and
quite the predicament.”

“It's all my fault too. I was the one who agreed to let her help me. There are slayers surrounding Emilia's home day and night, but I'm thinking of going down there to see if I can talk some sense into her.”

“Insanity in women, particularly in mothers who have lost their children, can be a very delicate matter. Are you sure you talking to her will make a difference?”

At this I remember what Ethan revealed to me last night about losing his dhamphir children. He's likely had first-hand experience with grieving mothers. It's odd to think that Emilia could still be grieving after all this time, but I guess the open ended way in which my mother disappeared meant she could never really get closure.

“What do you suggest I do?” I ask, needing his insight.

“If she has spelled herself into her house then there isn't much you can do. I doubt she will try to harm the girl, but since you are her granddaughter maybe you could let her know that you're available to have a relationship with her. That way keeping Rebecca won't seem so vital any longer.”

I make a noise of disagreement. “I'm not sure that will work. She wasn't very taken with me to be honest. She was smitten with Rebecca because she was all dainty and innocent. I think I was a little too rough around the edges for her taste.”

Ethan brings his hands up to my neck, rubbing his thumbs affectionately across my sensitive skin. “I happen to like your rough edges,” he breathes.

I'm too mesmerised by his eyes to pull back, but I still try to remind him of what I said before. “I mean it Ethan, this is no time for romantic entanglements. You and Finn already hate one another. I'm staying away from both of you to keep the peace.”

“Why should the slayer factor into it?”

“Because he's my friend and he has feelings for me. He caught me coming home from your place this morning and he's pretending he's not bothered, but I can tell it hurt him. I don't want to cause any more pain for anyone. I just want to set things right.”

“And what about me? You have hurt me intrinsically, and you will hurt me further by keeping me at a distance.”

“Don't guilt trip me,” I whisper, shuddering as he increases the pressure of his thumbs.

“I'm stating facts, that's all.”

“No, you're not. You're being difficult.”

He's manoeuvring me now, backing me towards the sofa. We're interrupted when Lucas saunters into the room and perches himself on the arm of said sofa.

“Out,” Ethan orders, his jaw a little tight.

Lucas grins and glances at his fingernails. “You and I are supposed to be going somewhere, remember?”

“We'll go tomorrow. I'm busy, and I said get out.” Ethan's voice is calm but I can tell Lucas' presence is irritating him.

“Where were you two gonna go?” I ask.

Lucas flashes his fangs at me. “Just out for a couple...refreshments. You want to volunteer instead?”

I immediately understand his meaning, drawing away from Ethan. “Oh. You should probably get going then. I've never been the volunteering type.”

I hold myself together, making sure that I don't let my discomfort show. I never even thought to wonder where they might be getting their blood from these days. Surely they don't have access to their usual donors now that they've been exiled from the south side.

“I can feed tomorrow,” says Ethan, pulling me back to him. “It's no big deal.” He stops to look at Lucas. “You can go alone if you're unable to wait.”

“Fine,” Lucas answers, rising from the sofa.

“Hang on,” I say. “Where do you go for blood around here anyway?”

He shrugs and I feel Ethan's hold on me tighten. “Night clubs. Drunk humans are much easier to compel.”

“Right,” I reply, not liking the sound of that one bit. “Well will you at least promise me you won't feed from the same human twice?”

Lucas laughs, but there's a spike of anger to it. “I have no inclination of creating another Amanda, if that's what you're implying.”

“You sure about that?” I question. If I'm not mistaken, he seems a little bitter in his mentioning of Amanda, bitter and forlorn. God, don't tell me he bloody misses her. That's just fucked up.

“Positive,” he answers harshly and then leaves the room. A few moments later the front door opens and slams shut.

“I can't believe it,” I whisper to myself.

“You can't believe what?” a sexy voice asks me. I'd almost forgotten that Ethan had his arms wrapped around me.

“I think Lucas might be secretly pining for Amanda.”

“The pink haired girl?”

“Yeah. He misses having her throw herself all over him, I imagine. Not to mention having a ready supply of blood on tap.”

Ethan's laugh vibrates through me, his lips touching my hair. “You only think that because you see him as selfish and cold. Lucas might have his flaws, but he's not as bad as you imagine.”

“Yeah well, you only think that because your standards are different to mine. And
you
didn't have to help nurse Amanda back to health after her addiction. She would have died if we hadn't used magic.”

“I apologise on Lucas' behalf for that ordeal, but can we not talk of this? I want you in my bed.”

Trying to break from his hold is a futile effort, so I squeeze my eyes shut and call a little magic to me. It strengthens my muscles and enables me to shift out of his arms. Wow, that was impressive, even if I do say so myself.

“You are surprisingly strong for one so small,” Ethan says, with a mixture of amusement and suspicion.

“What can I say, I work out,” I quip, even though the closest I ever get to working out is fighting off vampires and sorcerers who are after my blood – and intent on my death.

“Where do you think you're going?” he questions, seeing me move closer and closer to the door.

“I told you this can't happen.”

“And I'm telling you that it can. Let yourself go for a change.”

“I let myself go last night. That should keep me tided over for a while.”

He grins, showing me his fangs. “Don't play hard to get, Tegan. I've always enjoyed a good hunt.”

Adrenaline spikes through me, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't slightly exhilarating. Feeling brave, I bolt from the room.

The Sun Still Sets On You

Ethan's in an unusually playful humour. I know this because he comes after me at human speed, rather than vampire. If he had used vampire speed he would have caught me before I even made it out of the living room. I squeal as he chases me, but I stop in my tracks when I get to the front garden.

I spot Delilah making her way over to Finn's house. She doesn't go in the front door, instead she sneaks quickly around the back. A second later Ethan has scooped me up into his arms and is hauling me back inside his house. I try to wriggle my way out of his hold.

“Put me down for a second. I want to go see what Delilah is up to,” I say.

Ethan raises an eyebrow. “Delilah?”

“Yeah, I just caught sight of her sneaking around the side of Finn's place. Come on, let's go do some sleuthing.”

Ethan sets me on my feet and I turn to walk across the road. He grabs my arm and pulls me back, clucking his tongue at me. I look up at him questioningly.

“My sister will hear you a mile off if you go by foot. Come here, I'll show you how it's done.” At this he effortlessly swings me up onto his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. “Hold on tight,” he says, just before he speeds off and my head feels like it's inside a psychedelic dream where everything shifts too quickly and not in the correct order. All I can see is a mish mash of brick walls, glass windows and the black tarmacadam of the road.

Before I know it, Ethan has scaled the roof of Finn's house and is crouched over the edge, allowing us to peer down into the garden. At the very back of the space sits Ira, deep in meditation. Delilah is standing silently by the house watching him.

“What's she doing?” I whisper in Ethan's ear as quietly as I can. I think he shudders a little when my breath touches his skin.

“It seems Delilah has found herself a new object of fascination,” he whispers back even more quietly.

At this I remember noting how Delilah always seems to find a moment to watch Ira when he isn't looking, which is often because he can be so inside his own head at times. I don't think Ira's aware of this in the slightest.

“Object of fascination?” I probe.

“Delilah finds others appealing very rarely. So it takes a particularly special individual to capture her attention.” His eyes smoulder at me. “We are very similar in that way; when somebody turns our head we become fixated on them to the point of obsession.”

“Has anybody ever told you that you two are a weird family?”

He smiles. “Not in so many words.”

“So you're basically saying that Delilah has the hots for Ira. Why doesn't she just make a move then? If I were Ira and I caught her standing there looking at me like I'm a slab of meat she wants to sink her little dhamphir fangs into, I'd be well freaked out.”

“Take a look at the shapeshifter, Tegan. He's no little waif. I doubt her behaviour would freak him out as it does you.”

I snicker at him using my modern turn of phrase alongside his olden times speak. “Did you just call me a little waif?”

“I believe I did.”

“Well, I'm not an orphan and I'm certainly not weak. Does anyone even use the word “waif” anymore?”

“I'm sure there are some. I favour it when referring to pixie-like outcasts such as yourself.”

“I'm not a pixie, I'm a witch. Get it right,
vampire
,” I say to him teasingly. I know some people would take offence to being called an outcast, but I kind of like the term, and I know Ethan meant it only in an affectionate manner.

It's nice to be able to joke around with him, like we're just two normal people. Then again, I doubt two normal people would be joking around while crouched at the edge of a roof in the dark, spying on a dhamphir and a shapeshifter.

He runs his hand over my thigh and squeezes hard. “Quiet, I think she's going to approach him.”

My eyes wander back down to Delilah, where I see her walking toward Ira. She sits down on the grass a few feet away from him and he opens his eyes.

He doesn't say a word, so Delilah speaks first. “You knew I was standing there, didn't you.”

Our position up on the roof has excellent acoustics, so we can hear Delilah loud and clear. The atmosphere around the two of them crackles. This is so
good
. In my head I'm secretly willing them to start kissing each other's faces off, revealing their hidden love affair. Unfortunately, I don't get my wish.

“I heard you breathing,” Ira answers after a long stretch of silence.

“You pretended you didn't know,” Delilah sighs.

“Does that bother you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You barely talk to anyone. It's frustrating.”

Their conversation reminds me a little of the one I had with Ira when he spoke to me for the very first time. The only difference is that, unlike Delilah, I wasn't so obviously intent on getting it on with him.

“I speak when I have something to say. I don't see the point of spewing words just to fill a silence. My mother used to say that the loudest mouths are always attached to the emptiest vessels.”

“That might be true, but those who don't speak make me suspicious. It usually means they have something to hide.”

Oh. Maybe she doesn't want him in the biblical sense. Perhaps this is more of an interrogation than a romantic interlude.

“I am an open book. Ask me a question and I'll answer it for you,” Ira tells her and then he closes his eyes. It's like he's ending the conversation, despite his invitation for her to ask him anything. I can see Delilah visibly bristle.

“I take back what I said about your silence. You're even more frustrating when you speak.”

Ira's eyes shoot open again. “If I have offended you, it wasn't my intention.”

Delilah makes an effort to calm herself down. “No, no, it's fine. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm very much on edge these days. I've had a rough few weeks.”

“You look like a woman who has survived worse,” Ira comments.

“You could say that,” Delilah agrees, gathering herself. “I apologise for interrupting your meditation. I should go.”

“You can join me, if you like,” Ira offers, gesturing to the empty patch of grass beside him. “If you are stressed it will clear your head.”

She takes a moment to respond, her body language uncomfortable. Finally, she takes a breath and walks over to sit beside him. As they both close their eyes, Ethan pulls us away from the roof edge.

“Hey,” I say in whispered protest. “It was just about to get interesting.”

He smirks at me. “You're quite the little voyeur.”

“Ugh, when you put it like that you make me sound like a pervert.” Though to be perfectly honest, if they had started sexing it up I probably would have stayed and watched the entire thing. Yep, I'm a pervert.

He brings me to the centre of the roof, before pulling me to his front as he stretches his body out, laying me on top of him.

“It's strange being up here,” I say, after a few quiet moments of staring ahead at the starless sky.

“Ah, déjà vu,” Ethan mutters, tracing his fingers up and down my arms.

“Huh?”

“The first night I met you it was a starless night just like this one. I sat on the roof of my house with Delilah, staring up at the sky. We spoke about the perils of loving a human.”

“I think it's slightly more perilous for a human to love a vampire,” I counter.

I can feel him smiling when his jaw moves against my hair. “The perils go both ways, I suppose.”

“Okay, explain it to me then. How is it dangerous for a vampire to love a human?”

“Isn't it obvious? You age and die, while we stay young and unchanged.”

Thinking about it, that does sound rather depressing. “I guess. But then why don't you just keep your sights set on vampire women? It would save you the heartache. Besides, vampires are a hell of a lot more attractive than humans, so I can't imagine it'd be too hard to fall in love with one.” Okay, I wish I hadn't said all that. It kind of revealed some of my own feelings in a roundabout way.

“That's a good question. The thing is, I don't find vampire women appealing because they are too similar to me, too polished. Humans are so much more passionate and unpredictable – exciting you could say. The unpredictability draws me, as well as my attraction to their blood.”

“Oh.”

“Do you remember some of the things I said to you in my bed, the first night we had sex?” he asks, no holds barred

“Uh, not really. I was a little zoned out. I do remember you speaking a lot of Romanian.”
And
it being hot as all hell.

He pulls me in tight, pressing his fingers into the dip at my hip bone. His other hand travels to my neck, where he caresses my throat. I tremble against him. “I tend to revert back to my mother tongue when I get...excited,” he explains.

I tremble again. Ninety-five per cent of the words that leave his mouth are just plain shiver inducing, whether it's sexy shivers or scary shivers. A mixture of both is good too. “So, what were some of the things you said to me?”

“There were many. Only one was important.”

“And that was?”

He sucks at my neck all open-mouthed and I turn to mush. Then he breathes in my ear, “
Te iubesc
. Look it up.”

God, I love it when he lets his old accent slip out like that. “Why can't you just tell me?” I groan as he twists me around so that we're face to face.

His smile is evil. “Because I'm shy.”

I bark out a laugh. “You, Ethan Cristescu, are so far away from shy it could break a world record.”

“Fine. I'm mysterious then.”

He lifts me up and before I know it he's running down the roof and dropping us to the ground, so smooth I barely even feel it. Things go blurry again for a few brief seconds and then we're inside his house and he's throwing me onto his bed. He pulls my top off over my head and begins kissing and licking his way down my stomach, before unbuttoning the top of my pants.

“What...huh...I told you this wasn't happening,” I protest weakly.

He flicks his tongue along my belly, where I've broken out into extreme goose bumps. “I think your body's telling me otherwise,
fata frumoasa
,” he grins and nuzzles my abdomen.

“Oh yeah, that's right. Go ahead and break out the Romanian. You know I can't fucking say no to that accent.”

I groan when his hand slips inside my pants, sliding over my hot folds before pulling my trousers down my legs. He throws them to the floor and kisses his way up my inner thigh. When his lips meet my core, gentle, barely there, I moan loudly. I watch as his fangs slip out and he runs them carefully over my little bundle of nerves.
Good God
. He does it in such a way as to not cut me, and my goodness does it feel unimaginable. His dark eyes shine up at me wickedly, and I lose myself to their depths and the sensation of his mouth moving against me.

The next morning I'm tired. I hardly slept. I spent the night mesmerised by Ethan. When we're alone together he has this way of making me forget everything else. There are no problems, no other people, no villains – just us. I could tell he was getting sleepy as it got nearer to morning. He told me that all vampires can sense when the sun is close to coming up. It's a survival instinct.

I watched in fascination as his features turned sleepy and he finally drifted off. Then, like the total weirdo that I am, I spent some time memorising his face in slumber before I fell under myself. I didn't sleep for long though. I never do these days, not unless I'm completely exhausted. I have this anxiety in my belly that always manages to wake me up, this urgency that I need to be doing something. Living in this city means that there's always somebody who needs saving, or some mission to be carried out.

I throw on my clothes and as I pass by the spare bedroom I can hear Edwards snoring loudly. He sounds like a gigantic bumble bee. I knock on his door and the snoring immediately ceases. I wait a minute or two before peeking my head in the door. He's sitting up in the bed with the blankets tucked around him, his grey hair sticking out in every direction.

“Good morning!” he exclaims. “My word, I think I slept nearly fifteen hours straight last night. After all the excitement of rescuing your father I must have needed it.”

“I can imagine,” I smile at him. “Are you hungry? I was going to make some breakfast.”

“I'd absolutely love some,” he answers. “I'll just make myself presentable and I'll be right down.”

He really is very enthusiastic. It's strange to think that he's half demon. If I had to guess I would have put him down as half fairy or something; he's just so positive all the time.

I leave him to get dressed and go downstairs to see what Ethan has in his fridge. I half expect to find nothing but bottled blood, but when I open it all I find is a very normal fridge, stocked with very normal food. I absently wonder if Ethan ever drinks blood that doesn't come straight from the vein.