22. Green is an Ugly Colour
Green is an Ugly Colour
The city of New Orleans comes alive at night. Tourists crowd the streets, all wanting to visit voodoo shops, bars along Bourbon Street, and midnight ghost tours, along with the buskers, artists, and psychics who fill the square.
Rushing past with my heart beating wildly, I want to check my gun again, along with the extra clip in my pocket, but I can’t with so many people around.
I don’t trust the Witch, but I do want to know what she’s found. Especially if info on how to raise a Daemon leads to the Warlock turned Necromancer who is responsible.
Jezreel’s storefront looks decidedly more ominous at night.
The street is empty with everything being closed until morning.
But it’s not silent- I can still hear people yelling drunkenly a block or two over.
I tell myself it’s the proximity to the cemetery that has me on edge.
Knowing that Witches are buried there with all their power unnerves and disturbs me.
There was no Police Academy training for this.
I knock lightly on the locked door. It swings open silently, and I inhale and exhale slowly before stepping inside.
Micah trusts her, I repeat to myself.
I know the Vampire trusts few, so she must have done something to earn it.
And the bedroom doesn’t count. He’s not stupid, and certainly not blinded by good sex.
He’s cool, calm, methodical, and thinks things through faster than one thought can take hold in my mind.
So for now, I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt.
The shop is less brightly lit than earlier, but not completely dark, and more candles flare as I enter. I realize it’s the blinds covering the front windows that made it seem dark and deserted from the outside.
Jezreel stands at the counter, an old leather-bound book open in front of her.
She’s dressed in what I assume she wore to dinner: a red halter-neck dress with a slit up her smooth brown thigh.
It sets off her dark skin, chocolate eyes lined with black and dusted with gold.
Her dark hair is in loose curls that tumble down her back, and she smiles at me as if she’s genuinely happy I’m here, with no hint of the jealousy from earlier.
It’s possible I imagined it, caught up in my own confusion over Micah.
‘No Micah?’ she asks lightly, her red-painted mouth pouting in disappointment.
‘What did you find? Is it a way to track the Necromancer or his Daemon?’ I get straight to the point.
She can smile all she wants, but this is a police investigation.
I’m still not sure how knowing how to raise a Daemon will lead us to its master, or the rogue Vamp he’s working with, but I’m open to any leads we can grasp hold of.
She gestures to the book. ‘Take a look.’
A warning is screaming through me not to get too close to her. Her smile seems more like a viper’s than a helpful Witch.
‘Don’t worry,’ she adds with a laugh, ‘I’ll explain it all to you.’
‘Do you have any idea who the Warlock could be?’ I’m still hedging my bets here, keeping some distance between us.
‘Not yet.’ She smiles, and it seems more forced than before, as if playing nice is a strain on her.
Adrenaline seeps into my veins, my body preparing for fight or flight.
‘But it’s only a matter of time. And this will help. Knowing how it’s raised will narrow it down to which Warlock has enough Magic to raise a Daemon.’ She sounds confident, but I automatically scan her body for nervous tells.
Everything Jezreel says is entirely reasonable. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. Maybe I’m letting a tinge of green seep into my vision and distort it. Or maybe the gut feeling that makes me a damn good detective is correct.
But what can she do? I have a gun. I need to know what she has, if there’s even a slight chance it can help us track these monsters and prevent more murders.
Walking further into the store, I stop a few feet from where she’s casually leaning against the counter, the book open in her hands.
She tilts it for me to see it better, and I automatically lean closer.
Then she points at a picture and speaks words I can’t make out. I realize it’s an incantation a second too late.
Bands of crackling purple light encircle my wrists. When I pull against them, pain shoots up my arms. Clamping my lips down on a scream, I force myself to relax, eyes fixed on hers.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ I demand. My gun is tucked into the waistband of my pants, and frustration mixes with anger that I didn’t take it out before entering, no matter how it would have looked to her.
‘Getting rid of a problem.’ Her voice is ice cold, eyes full of hate for whatever she thinks I’ve done to her.
‘Micah,’ I start to say, before her laugh cuts me off, teeth are blindingly white against her red lips and dark skin.
‘I think you’ll find,’ she sneers at me, ‘that Micah’s protection doesn’t extend to my city.’
‘But…,’ I trail off, at a loss. I’m surreptitiously testing the bands of lightning around my wrists for any weakness.
But even slight movement sends spikes of pain careening up my arms. I can’t get to my micro either; her magic seems to be interfering with the signal. My contacts are concerningly blank.
‘What? You thought because he’s a good fuck, it meant I would just give him what he wants? How very human of you.’ She slams the book down on the counter and moves closer to me.
‘What do you get out of this?’ I’m trying to buy myself time by keeping her talking, although I have no idea what for. I can’t undo magic bonds. And I can admit coming here alone was a particularly stupid idea.
She cocks her head in an entirely predatory way, mouth twisted in a sly smile. ‘Let’s go with loyalty. To my kind, not yours. And certainly not to a Vampire.’
‘You’re protecting the Necromancer?’ I’m not really surprised. Witches chose to band together in this city where they live by their own rules. They’ve refused any part of the unification laws that would hold them to account.
‘Why not?’ Jezreel spits out, her eyes so dark they’re almost black in the shadows cast across the room.
Tossing her hair back, she smiles wider, and it chills me to the bone. There is nothing human left in her. She is the dark magic roiling through her veins, crackling with it like a Witch glow stick.
‘Humans rejected us. We’re relegated to living in this city, all because we wouldn’t give up our powers. Because we wouldn’t bend over for the World Council. Why should we live by your rules?’ The more she rants, the more unhinged she looks. Pure, unadulterated rage consumes her.
I’m certainly not going to argue with her. What I need to do is get out of these magic restraints, get to the gun that’s hidden beneath my shirt, and put several bullets through her chest. I may have never killed before, but if it’s my life or hers, I choose myself.
‘I’m so glad we had this talk. Cleared things up,’ she laughs, her lips twisted into a caricature of a smile. ‘From one of Micah’s toys to another.’
I was right. She’s jealous. But can I use it to my advantage? She’s right on the edge of sanity. If I tip her over, will she get sloppy, or only kill me faster? Jealousy really is an ugly emotion.
‘You think Micah cares about me?’ I laugh, and it’s not even forced. I look at her as steadily as I can manage through the dull, throbbing pain. ‘If you’re doing this to get back at him for rejecting you, I have some disappointing news. He didn’t want me.’
Almost breathless from the effort of speaking, I clench my teeth in frustration and force myself to breathe deeply, steeling myself to try again to get my wrists free.
Electricity surges from my wrists up my arms, and I almost scream as the pain threatens to overwhelm me.
It’s not tech, it’s dark magic, and I have no way to disable it.
These bands are not coming off anytime soon.
Jezreel stills, her face losing a fraction of the crazy. I think I see doubt float across her eyes, just the wisp of a cloud.
The pain is receding, and I have nothing to lose, so I keep going.
‘At least you got to have him. He threw me out of his bedroom practically naked.’ My bitter laugh isn’t even faked as I realize just how true the words are. It hits me as they leave my mouth how much it still eats at me. He wanted the Witch in front of me, but not me. Never me.
Her face has gone eerily blank, eyes unblinking. I’m not sure if it’s better or worse than her rage was. There’s something far more unsettling lurking in her eyes, slithering through them.
‘Poor human girl. You’ll have to try better than that,’ she sneers again.
‘It’s pathetic. Are you trying to bond with me over our shared heartbreak?
Make me feel sorry for you that you never got to feel him inside you, hear him say your name like he meant it?
So let me tell you, it was worth it. He was one of the best fucks I’ve ever had.
Possibly the best. And I’ve had a lot. He’s so… enthusiastic.’
Jezreel moves fast, pulling my arms so I lose my balance and stumble forward.
Forcing me up against the counter, my stomach presses hard against it as I double over, breathless from the Magic that shoots up my arms, across my shoulders, and chest. It’s as if knives are making a thousand cuts, all at once.
The scream I’m trying to keep inside erupts, shattering the silence into a thousand pieces.
Magic crackles around the Witch as candles flare with light, causing the shadows creeping from the walls to deepen ominously.
Jezreel grasps my hair and yanks my head back tightly. Her foot kicks at my knees, and I throw my hands out in front of me, fire shredding through my veins. Grabbing for the edge of the counter, my hands slip on the slick surface.
Before I can catch my breath, my head is shoved forward, her grip on my hair not loosening an inch, tightly twisted in one fist.
A silver knife is at my throat, causing me to still my desperate attempt to break free.