To Kill a Sorcerer (38 page)

We lay side by side on the chaise lounges, gazing at the stars. She reached over and took my hand.

The stunning speed of current events still had my mind in a whirl, and bright pictures blinked: Madame Leoni’s open mouth as she dissolved into nothing, the Key of Akasha descending into the inferno of the Records, the lobby of the Knickerbocker.

Most of all, James’s face. Not the way he had looked when Guthbert stabbed him, but the seraphic boy who had slept between Marguerite and me. For him I hunted killers, because I had failed in my duty to protect him.

I wondered if Aliena suffered from shock after what had happened. Shock included a physical reaction in humans, and she did not have that metabolism, but being held captive had a strong psychological element as well.

“Did you enjoy killing Kanga tonight?” she asked.

“Yes. I wanted to do it.”

“Does it ever give you a thrill to kill someone?”

She had told me before that she loved the hunt, the final act, the sensual experience of clutching a body close, the hot salty blood spilling over her tongue. I tried to compare my feelings to hers.

“Sometimes,” I said. Killing a human being was rarely fun. It was often a necessary function, though, like putting down a rabid dog or inoculating the body against a virus.

“He stripped me,” she said. “I have never felt so helpless in my entire life. He took away every bit of power I have enjoyed for three centuries and made me as vulnerable as any of his human victims. It has been so long since I was a mortal. I had forgotten what it feels like to be so weak.”

We lay in silence for a few minutes.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

“Yes. Now that he’s dead, and I was the one who ripped his heart from his body, yes, I’m fine.”

I took the slim box out of my pocket and handed it over to her. She took it and laughed delightedly when she saw the wrapping paper.

“My Christmas present?”

“One of them.”

She tore the tape away and clicked the wooden box open.

“Oh, it’s lovely, Sebastian.” It was a plain necklace of silver, with a crystal heart pendant.

I sat up and took the necklace from her. She turned and held her hair up. Once I had clasped it, she turned around.

“How does it look?”

“It would look better without that amulet,” I said, reaching for the charmed stone, but she pushed my hand away.

“No. I’m leaving this on for now.”

I took her hands. “He’s gone, sweetheart. The way we killed him . . . he is never coming back.”

“I know, but I want to wait for a little while.” She studied me. “Do you know what happened to the Key of Akasha?”

I had been in such pain after the explosion and so desperate to get back to my physical body, I had forgotten all about the key. “It must have been destroyed in the eruption of the Akashic Records,” I said without thinking.

Aliena shook her head. “No, you can’t destroy something like that.”

She was right.

“I didn’t see what happened to it, no. I will have to journey to the ether again and visit the Knickerbocker. It may still be on the roof.”

“When you have found it, I will remove the amulet.”

We lay back down and watched the cosmos spinning above, holding hands, occasionally murmuring to each other.

When the sky began to lighten in the east, my heart rate accelerated. I had been waiting to ask the question that had been on my mind since taking her from Kanga. It was now or never.

“Aliena, darling, will you stay here today? Please? Just for today. So I know where you are and that you’re safe. Please, darling.”

She stroked my cheek with an icy hand.

“Yes. I want to stay today. You make me feel very safe.”

I clasped her hand and kissed it. “Thank you. Come on then. It’s getting light.”

We went inside and closed the windows. I leaned down to remove some of the fetishized artifacts from the sill when her voice stopped me.

“No. Leave those there.”

“Of course.” I set the jujus down, walked over to her, and took her cold hands in mine. “There is nothing to worry about,” I said. “I will watch over you.”

“You will protect me?”

Gazing at her golden hair and her wide, dark eyes, the fine arch of her eyebrows and the full lips, I knew any man on the planet would tell her he would protect her—or do anything else she asked. I put my arms around her and pulled her close playfully. “I will watch you every single moment, if that is what you desire.”

Her mouth twitched. She gave me a severe glare. “You won’t undress me, will you? Stare at me with no clothes on? Maybe, you know, fondle my body when I’m asleep?”

“I only said I would watch over you,” I replied, acting perplexed. “As to your delectable body, if I get bored . . . what’s the matter, anyway? You have undressed down to nothing in front of me many times.”

“I was awake then. I knew what I was doing.”

“Teasing me.”

Her tinkling laugh. “Yes, very well, I know the effect my naked body has on your senses.”

“All naked bodies as beautiful as yours have that effect on my senses. Just because—”

She covered my mouth with her hand. “Don’t say that, Sebastian, not to me. Do not say there are other bodies as beautiful as mine. I am your special one. I always will be.”

“Yes,” I said, scooping her into my arms and carrying her to her room. “You are my special one. There could never be another.” I dropped her unceremoniously on the bed and tossed the Bugs Bunny pajamas next to her. She giggled.

“I don’t really wear them, you know.” The rays of the nearly risen sun filtered through the open door. She did not have much time awake. If she did not drink my blood, she would be comatose already.

“I will come in later to check on you. Around noon, I think.”

“To see me naked? Haven’t you seen enough naked women in your life, Sebastian? You have lived four hundred years longer than I! How many naked women does it take to satisfy you?”

“One more,” I said. “And it will always take one more.”

She stuck out her tongue at me and began stripping off her clothes. She did it slowly, the minx, giving me a long look at her glorious body, the ridiculous span of her hips. Then she threw on the pajamas and jumped into bed, pulling the covers to her neck. She pressed her head into the pillow.

“Now give me a good morning kiss,” she said, holding her arms out to me. “And hurry. I can’t keep my eyes open much longer.”

I sat on the edge of the bed. Aliena wrapped her arms around my neck with a devilish smile and sighed, watching me with heavy-lidded eyes.

I ran my hand through her soft, golden hair. “My darling one.” I leaned over.

Our lips explored; our tongues danced. She had my lower lip between her teeth when her arms slackened on my shoulders and fell onto the quilt.

I straightened, tucked her cold hands under the blanket, gave her mole a light kiss.

Stepping into the hallway, I turned. Only Aliena’s head and the collar of her Bugs Bunny top showed above the blankets. I laughed softly. This gorgeous, eternal creature, who hunted and occasionally killed human beings, slept in my guest room wearing cartoon pajamas.

I pressed my hand to the glass plate and sealed her inside, thinking how much I loved my immortal life.

Sebastian Montero

Malibu, California

The most important person to the development of this story and the others in the Montero series is Mia Turner. She beta read every chapter of the first two books as I wrote them, and the image of her sitting at her desk and drumming her fingers (I don’t think she really did that) while she waited for the next chapter kept me writing constantly. Her comments and corrections forced me to think about every detail in the story, and her suggestions were invaluable. Thank you, Miafraulein.

Thank you to Helena Braunstein, my very first beta reader, a sharp young lady who helped shape the details of this story. Thanks to my daughter Lauren and her friend Kristi Cha for asking, “But where’s the vampire?” Thanks to Dr. Lisa Scheinin at the LA county coroner’s office for her help with my forensics questions, and to LAPD Detective Ernest “Dino” Caldera for his insights into police procedure. I owe a debt to everyone who read my books long before they were published and provided me with important feedback: Leila Drager, Sandy Caldera, Shelley Kelly, Anna Marie Licata, Danielle Licata, Janet Colbern, Kristi Cha, my daughter Lauren, Cort Mongrain, and Holly Schultz, to name a few.

Thanks to Jean Jenkins for her patient and thorough edits, and to Sandra, my Kindle Scout Editor, for putting the final polish on the manuscript.

And finally, a very special thank-you to my mother Barbara, who bought me all the books I wanted when I was a kid.