Chapter Six
“All right. This is a whole new level of ‘you screwed me over’, or even ‘you cheated’. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I didn’t even scorn her, I just had a snack,” Brax muttered as he paced, towing Penny with him, the little blonde wrapped around his back like a sloth on its mother.
It was... Well, annoying and adorable, and odd how much he liked it.
It was beyond sex. It was need. Intimacy.
He would be damned if he finally found this peculiar, delightful feeling only to lose it in eternal torment a few hours later.
“If she’s sold her soul and she practices ‘vodoun,’ your former paramour may not even be the one calling the shots.
Demons love to enter the mortal realm. They’ll use any combination of ways to get here, hence we have vampires, succubi, and the like, existing among humans.
I hate to minimize your role in all of this—”
“Please do. I’d feel better.” Guilt. He had guilt.
It was a long-forgotten emotion, like right and wrong, and he didn’t like it.
Penny placed a sleepy kiss on his neck, her burning cheek against his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault,” she murmured. “Well. It is. But you didn’t know it would happen.”
“Thanks,” Brax said, rolling his eyes.
Mr. Minegold continued, his voice urgent.
“I don’t know how long we have until all of this comes to a head.
But the night of Christmas Eve would be quite a feather in the cap for any demon to breach the mortal realm and add sacrilege to destruction.
Furthermore, it’s likely being influenced by the location.
Pine Ridge is a tempting spot for several reasons.
To destroy a place where so many ‘evil’ creatures choose peace and kindness would further satisfy a wicked demon’s perverse senses. ”
“A wicked demon? Are there other kinds?”
“Not often, but some do try. There are ways to redeem even the uttermost.”
Brax licked his lips. That was a strange new thought.
But everything in this little town seemed strange and new, especially the sexy sloth wannabe on his back.
He’d had a century of living on the edge, of festering in the darkest parts of himself.
If he wanted to try a little something new, a little something kind and good—well, wasn’t that the greatest perversion a demon could offer?
“If we get out of this, I’d like to hear about them sometime. ”
“Excellent. But for now...”
“For now. There’s a chalice? And Marietta has to be here, right? Or did the witchling do enough damage that now the demon does the rest?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to research—and quickly. The ice is spreading, and people will be waiting to head out to holiday parties and the Christmas Eve carol service.”
Brax gritted his teeth. Wonderful. The world may burn, but let’s worry about the little old ladies getting to belt out Hark the Herald Angels. “Time is of the essence. Got it. Anything else in the book?”
“I’m texting members of the Pine Ridge coven and the members of the Night Watch for assistance, pooling our knowledge. Farrah Fenclan—oh, how lovely, what a nice picture of all the family—”
“Focus!” Brax snapped.
“Very well, she says that she knows of a reference to a ‘Chalice of Brimstone.’ She says it can be wielded by great evil, a servant of the most low, the kings of the lower depths. I think a soul-sucking demon would count as a servant of the most low. And he would be a servant of a ‘Voodoo Queen,’ as well. Kings, queens, I suppose it doesn’t matter. ”
“Sexist,” Penny muttered, now nibbling on Brax’s collarbone.
“Erhm. Yes. Archaic. Anyway, the ‘Chalice of Brimstone’ must be filled with the blood of an innocent.”
“Marietta has buckets of it. Literally.” Brax’s stomach growled. “She was always good for a meal.”
Penny’s nibbles turned into hard, reproving bites.
His cock stiffened at the pinch of pain, even at this horribly inopportune moment. “I said was.”
“Was, is—the point is that she has blood to spare. Once the chalice is filled—and presumably it’s some literal chalice that works in tandem with the spell, Farrah says, ‘The fire shall pool and in its place the frost will creep, and the cold wax, and by the dawn will it reach its full.”
“What the hell? Who waxes until dawn? That is one majorly hairy piece of glassware.”
Brax felt as though he and Mr. Minegold were bonding simply by being forced to listen to Penny’s delirious ravings.
“I don’t think the chalice is what’s being waxed, my dear,” Mr. Minegold responded patiently.
“It’s old lingo, love. It means it shall grow. That tracks. It’s only getting colder.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Oh, dear—what?” Brax’s voice was sharp as Mr. Minegold made a startled exclamation. He had the feeling that ‘Oh, dear’ was the gentlemanly vamp’s equivalent of ‘Shit!’
“Ah. I believe we’ve gotten to the point where your burning companion comes into play.”
“Penny. Her name is Penny. She’s my neighbor.”
“She’s also the other half of the spell. ‘Once the chalice is drained and the frost is at its full, two sacrifices will be claimed, one burnt and one frozen.”
“That’s us,” Penny whispered.
Brax nodded.
“Wait...”
“I’m burning up? Like, I could actually go up in flames?” Her voice shrank.
Silence again.
Brax’s voice was blunt. “You wouldn’t sound this calm if there weren’t some loophole, something we could do. What is it?”
“Ah, yes. This part. I don’t know entirely what it means, but I have ideas. ‘Should the Chalice be drunk before blood burned away, should it be drunk as blood be cooled, destruction shall come upon the drinker and all his endeavors. Or her endeavors.”
“So, if Marietta drinks before I’m dead, and she figures I’m going to be dead by morning, she’ll die? Be destroyed, and her endeavors, too?”
“Yes. But say that she waits, if you’re cured, presumably the blood in the cup will reflect that. Should she drink that ‘cooled’ blood, that will undo her as well.”
“I’m cooler when Brax touches me. He helped my—”
“Shhh!” Brax gave her a frantic shake of his head.
“My temperature go down some.” Penny rolled her eyes. “Like I’m going to tell some nice, strange spellbook guy on the phone about nummy Brax-pops.” “
“Ah. I’m glad you’ve arranged some sort of relief that helps you both.”
Penny nodded, then pouted. “But it goes back up when he’s not holding me.”
“Holding you?”
“He was almost frozen to death. He had black lines under his skin.”
“Frozen blood,” Brax supplies, shuddering at the memory. “I’m a bit warmed up now, although nowhere near a normal human temperature. Not even approaching room temp at the moment.” He realized.
“Which is wonderful...” Penny sighed and shimmied all over him, rubbing belly and breasts against him in a sinuous arc that would have been seductive—if she weren’t simultaneously holding her phone and trying to suck on his earlobe at the same time.
“Did you say frozen blood?” Mr. Minegold’s voice was halting and soft, as if afraid to be hopeful.
“Yes, and as I’m sure you know, it hurts like a bitch. Think you’ll never be properly warm again, that you’ll die like that, freezing inside, pins and needles jabbing through every vein, and you know it won’t even end for you, you’ll just keep suffering.”
Penny spun around him, facing him as she landed on the balls of her feet. Her body pressed against him with purpose, to heal him, heat him. Her arms twined around his neck, and there was something warm in her eyes as they held his.
Loving? Is that a loving gaze? Brax returned it, slowly letting his hand come up to join hers on the phone, heads meeting, lips brushing—
“Listen to this!” Minegold’s voice was suddenly sharp. “This is from Madge, who owns the magic shop?”
“I know her,” Brax grumbled. It wasn’t the same sort of magic shop as the back room sort in New Orleans. Madge had given him the hairy eyeball, and he’d steered clear of her establishment ever since. “Have you got every magical person in this village in a group chat?”
“Not all, no. Now, pay attention. ‘To quell the mighty one, a sacrifice whose blood has been spilled—’”
“Where did these spell-dudes go to school?” Penny whined. “Where’s the Cliff Notes version!? Where’s the summary?”
“Shhh! I’ll summarize at the end. ‘Let the sacrifices imbibe the blood of the beings who are spawned in the lower depths, frozen in the Chalice’s desolation.’”
“Say what?” Brax demanded.
“What?” Penny parroted.
“One of those spawned in the lower depths, a demon! Vampire! You’re one of the sacrifices. You must imbibe, must drink, the blood of a demon who has suffered from the desolation. The freak ice storm!”
Penny let out a wail, hand flung high, and phone flinging from it, landing with a thump on the floor.“How am I supposed to get frozen demon blood?”
Brax spoke patiently, “He means me. You’re the burnt sacrifice, and I’m the frozen one. You drink my blood. Hah. That’s backwards.”
“I know that!” Penny pouted. “Well, I sort of knew that. I just... I kinda stopped thinking of you as a demon in the last hour or so and started thinking of you as simply Brax, my partner in solving problems and adjusting body temperature. Besides, you’re not frozen anymore.
And blood-drinking? Ew, no. That would suck.
And if you believe all the vampire flicks, wouldn’t I get turned into one of the fangy undead?
” Penny glared at him, then doubled up laughing.
“Sucks! Vampires suck blood, get it? Ha!”
Brax rolled his eyes. “Yes, Pen, you’re a laugh riot. It’s no problem for me to get good and frozen again.” All right. Painful, but it was worth the pain to heal her. To save people. Okay, mainly to heal her.
“But it hurts you. And frozen blood? Does it even flow? Can you bleed?”
“We’ll find out.”
“That’s going to hurt you.” Penny shook her head, frowning.
“That doesn’t matter. You could get better. You could save this town. Your parents.”
“Brax is right. The pain will be temporary, and the results are worth it.” Mr. Mingeold’s tone was firm.
Penny gave him a sorrowful, confused look.
“But... I don’t want to hurt him anymore.
I don’t want to hurt someone I like. He took a long time to get warm, and he can’t even die from it, he’ll just keep suffering.
I don’t want that, the suffering. Why do I have to hurt him?
I promised him I wouldn’t hurt him. It’s in writing! How am I supposed to—”
“I’ll handle things,” Brax said firmly. Why’s she so worked up? A nick with a knife? A bite, if I can get one. A bit of a sting, and the throbbing afterward, pulses that race under your skin, make you pound like you’re still alive. Mm. All part of the joys of being a vampire.
She nodded mutely, eyes glossy in a whole new way.
“Oh, Pen. C’mere. Fix those sad eyes.”
“I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“I promised not to hurt you, either. I keep the promises I make, Penny. Look, when something is for you, it doesn’t hurt a bit.”
She smiled at him, eyes gleaming and glowing with something like... hope and happiness, and maybe that undefined thing that he dare not believe in too much. “Promise?”
“I promise, baby. I promise.” He wrapped his arms around her as hers locked around him.
His phone clunked to the floor, and they ignored the soft, distant voice on the other end as it murmured, “Call me back soon. I’ll... I’ll give you some privacy...”