Chapter 5
A teasing waft of warm air ghosted across Quentin’s neck, waking him from his sleep. All the sunshine and gardening had left him with a headache and a sore back.
His father had left after an hour of catching up.
After a hot shower, he’d tucked himself into bed early, knowing his lover would wake him when he arrived.
The garden might appreciate Quentin’s transformation into a fae, but it loved his father. Lars had wandered past a patch of wilting flowers, and it had burst into fresh, brilliant blooms.
After his father’s visit, if there were a neighborhood garden contest, he’d have won in a landslide. He turned his head to smile at his lover. “How do you have such hot breath? Shouldn’t vampires be cold?”
It defied all magical physics and some mundane ones as well, if vampires could be considered mundane. What was the magic that kept them alive? Was it a virus? A genetic mutation caused by injecting their venom into humans. Surely, someone had done studies. He really needed to visit the library.
“…and I lost you.” Jaks’s amused voice pulled Quentin from his spiraling thoughts.
“Sorry.” He offered a sheepish smile. Sometimes his busy mind just wouldn’t quit. “I was thinking of how hot your body runs and how vampirism was spread.”
“I’m always hot, lover.” Jaks’s fang-tipped grin had Quentin’s mind turning in sexier directions. Jaks kissed Quentin’s neck. “I’m more interested in your nakedness than my body temperature, right now, though I’m sure you can raise it among other things.”
Quentin snorted. “That was terrible.”
Jaks slid his sharp teeth across Quentin’s skin, lightly scratching, but not breaking through. Shivers ratcheted down Quentin’s spine. “Bite me.” Lust deepened his voice to a rough, hungry growl. He rolled over and tilted his chin, offering easier access.
“You only get more beautiful.” A teasing nip. “We could spend a thousand years together, and I would still crave you.”
Quentin would never understand what Jaks saw in a skinny geek, but he wouldn’t argue against it. Not anymore. If his newly turned vampire mother or a fae king father didn’t scare Jaks away, nothing would.
“I can’t think of a better way to wake up.”
“Glad to help any time, love.” Jaks slid on top of Quentin, holding his weight with his upper arms as he pressed his hips against Quentin’s.
The hard ridge of Jaks’s erection pushed everything but carnal desires from his thoughts.
He bit Jaks’s bottom lip and gave it a gentle tug before releasing him.
His feral smile was returned with interest.
“I love it when you get bitey. Do it again.”
Words were abandoned in favor of kissing, removing clothes, and deep moans.
Wars would be fought over Jaks’s mouth if word of his talents ever leaked out.
Consumed by surging hormones and the sultry slide of flesh against flesh, it took several minutes before Quentin recognized that lust-induced hallucinations weren’t causing the chiming noise.
He pulled back from the lip-lock to locate the source of the sound.
His phone rang again.
“Ignore it,” Jaks growled, his eyes glowed like a hungry predator sizing up its prey for the perfect plan of attack.
“Okay.” Quentin didn’t even pretend to be interested in whoever had such terrible timing. They weren’t worthy of his attention if they didn’t realize the necessity of wake-up sex.
The sound continued, the insistent ringing pulled him entirely from his lust-fogged focus.
Jaks cupped the back of Quentin’s head and pulled him into another passionate kiss. “They’ll stop texting eventually.”
“Mmhmm.” Even as he reveled in his lover’s touch, a little doubt winnowed into his thoughts. That was Grevin’s ringtone. It was awfully late for a phone call, even from a nocturnal necromancer.
His phone’s alert chime went off again, indicating a new text.
Quentin ripped himself away from Jaks’s amazing lips.
“I-I’ve just got to check that. Grevin isn’t usually so persistent.
” Grevin sometimes went days without responding to a text; for him to insist on contacting Quentin rang alarm bells.
Strange.
Jaks huffed. Damn, a pouty vampire was adorable. Quentin swept his phone off the side table, where he’d abandoned it earlier. Any thought of ignoring the text vanished when he saw the numbers glowing on the screen.
666.
666.
666.
“Crap!”
Jaks leaned over Quentin’s shoulder to read the text. “Shouldn’t that be 911?”
“No. We have a series of codes. 666 means something went wrong with a demon summoning.” Goosebumps pebbled across Quentin’s skin as he thought of all the ways a summoning could go poorly.
Although he didn’t have any necromantic talents, he had taken a beginner’s course to understand Grevin better a few years ago.
He quickly tapped Grevin’s contact number.
It rang.
Then rang again.
Ten more times.
No one answered.
Quentin bit his lip as Grevin’s voicemail kicked in.
Damn.
“We know he was able to call you a few minutes ago, so he must still be alive.” Jaks gave Quentin’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
He threw the phone onto the bed and got up. “I’m going over there.”
“I’ll come with.” Jaks slid out of bed before Quentin could protest. Not that he was going to. If a demon escaped Grevin’s control, he preferred to have a kickass vampire by his side. Who knows what Grevin could’ve summoned?
He winced when the icy wood floor contacted his bare feet.
Shivering, he dressed in his best demon-battling outfit of worn jeans and a cozy long-sleeved shirt.
If his current life choices continued, he might have to consider getting a badass outfit and a personal soundtrack to complete his hero entrance.
If nothing else, it would make Jaks laugh and maybe drool a little.
Either would be good.
They dressed in silence. Quentin made sure to grab a selection of preprogrammed spell orbs. Better to be overprepared than overwhelmed.
“Are those the improved ones?” Jaks nodded at the orbs.
“Yeah, stronger containment ones and a new prototype I just finished.”
“What does it do?”
Quentin smiled, flattered that Jaks showed genuine interest in his work. “It sets things on fire once activated.”
“That could be dangerous.” Jaks frowned. “You don’t want to start a wildfire.”
He shook his head. “It’s magical fire. Since it’s linked to my magic, once activated, it will obey my will.”
Jaks frowned. “Why did you create those?”
“I’m testing how to bind different elements into my spheres. These are good for taking down zombies. I doubt they’ll do much against demons since most of them have fire-based magic, but it depends on the entity. I haven’t figured out how to create ice-based ones yet.”
Ignoring his lover’s scowl, Quentin shoved the orbs into his messenger bag along with a bottle of water he’d pulled from the fridge.
Thinking about a possible battle, he also grabbed three packs of blood.
He didn’t know how long they would be out, and he couldn’t let Jaks feed from him if Quentin was using magic—one of the few drawbacks of a vampire dating a magic user.
“You’re keeping spare blood around now?” Jaks raised his eyebrows at Quentin’s provisions.
“Mother suggested I should store some of my blood for emergencies. I don’t know what we are going into, and if you are injured, I want to be prepared.”
“Who extracted it?” Quentin tried not to laugh at Jaks’s jealous tone.
“A nurse from the hospital, after Mother told her what it was for. I don’t have a lot, but it is in magical stasis and should stay fresh for a few months.”
“Nice. I’m not much for drinking out of bags if I can avoid it. I much prefer tapping straight from the source,” Jaks leered.
“I prefer you doing that too.” Jaks’s feeding from him always led to more pleasurable pursuits. “But if we’re fighting, I won’t have the blood to spare.”
“I’m hoping you being in the middle of things will be a rare event,” Jaks said, scowling.
“Yeah, me too.” Unfortunately, lately, fighting had been more the norm than the exception. This was an alarming trend since Quentin wasn’t a great fighter and was more of a liability than an asset in a vampire battle.
Hence the fireballs.
They shared a quick kiss before reluctantly pulling apart.
Quentin shook his head, wondering why he thought now was a good time to kiss.
He’d never had trouble controlling his hormones before, and Grevin could be lying injured.
There were probably entire dissertations written on the effect vampires had on their bonded.
Hopefully, the intensity would fade a little with time.
If he planned to remain at a vampire leader’s side, he had to do a deeper dive into vampire dynamics.
Their relationship had so far consisted of rushing between crises and relieving stress through sex.
Some days, Quentin still felt like the naive guy who had walked into a vampire clan while reading his notes. It was a miracle no one had killed him yet.
He hoped that the trend continued.
Jaks followed him as Quentin collected everything he thought he might need. “Do you even know how to fight a demon?”
Quentin shrugged. “Nope, but I’m hoping that if I capture it, Grevin can send it back. It isn’t necessarily the demon’s fault that something went wrong.” What good was having a necromancer friend if he couldn’t banish whatever he had pulled out of a demon dimension?
“If Grevin could send him back, don’t you think he would’ve done that instead of calling you?”
“We won’t know until we talk to him.” He refused to believe Grevin had been killed. They’d been friends long enough for Quentin to appreciate Grevin’s cockroach-like survivability.
“What do you know about demons?”
Quentin shrugged. “Not much. I’m a genius in spell design and potions, not creatures.” However, with a fae inheritance, vampires, and now demons. His contact with other species was rapidly increasing, and not always in a positive way. He needed to get to the university library as soon as possible.
“And do you consider me a creature?” Jaks brushed his lips across Quentin’s, a bare whisper of contact that sent jolts of need down his spine.
“Absolutely,” Quentin teased.
“Mmm, good. Just remember I’m your creature.” Jaks kissed Quentin’s cheek. “Do you think we should bring back up?”
“Why don’t we talk to Grevin before we call in the cavalry?
If it’s an escaped demon, they could be more fodder than help.
” He didn’t want dozens of vampires descending on Grevin’s house before they figured out what had happened.
Grevin was antisocial on a good day and blatantly hermitlike on a bad one.
“If it’s only one misbehaving demon, we should be able to handle it.
If not, you can call for backup, and they can rush over with their freaky speed. ”
“Very true, beloved.” Jaks held out his hand. “Ready to go.”
Quentin threaded his fingers between Jaks’s. His teleportation, smoother than usual, deposited them right outside Grevin’s front door. He frowned at the change. Was this another indication of his fae heritage or just a sign that he’d been teleporting more than usual?
What they found had Quentin’s optimism dying a brutal death.
An unnatural darkness dimmed the world around them, blocking the rising sun.
Demon fog.
He’d heard of the phenomenon but had never seen it in person until now.
Frost crunched beneath their feet, coating the ground in a thin layer of ice, directly in contrast with the warm temperature. The stench of brimstone and decay hung in the air like a heavy curtain.
Maybe he would get to use his fireballs after all.
“He summoned a demon king,” Jaks whispered. “Why would he do that?”
“Are you certain?” His last flicker of optimism gave a desperate, dying twitch. He barely knew how to handle a regular demon. A demon king was a universe apart from his abilities.
Jaks squeezed him in a sideways hug. “Stay near me.” He released Quentin and walked straight to Grevin’s front door.
This could go to shit in more ways than Quentin cared to count.
The fact that Jaks could reach the front door without being stopped told Quentin that Grevin’s protections were down.
That the front door was wide open was even worse.
Grevin wasn’t the leaving-his-door-open kind of guy.
“I-I hope we’re not too late,” Quentin whispered, unable to speak any louder with fear constricting his throat.
When Quentin moved to step around Jaks and enter the house, Jaks held him back with a hand to his chest. “I’m going first.”
“I’m capable of protecting myself.” He hated it when Jaks treated him like glass. He could handle himself, damn it.
“Yes, against normal people and vampires and probably the fae, but you aren’t demon-proof, and I’d feel better if you let me go first.”
After a second of consideration, Quentin gave a jerky nod. He hated it when Jaks made sense. It took away all his best arguments.
Worried, Quentin cast an occupation spell.
Only one light glowed ahead of them. It flashed green, then gray, then red. “Shit!”
Jaks grabbed him as he tried to push past once more.
“What does that mean?”
“Green means there’s a life-force here. Gray means it’s a necromancer, and red means he’s seriously injured. Now let me go.”
“No demon?” Jaks double-checked.
“No.”
Jaks released him.
Truthfully, he wasn’t entirely sure his spell would detect a demon’s presence, but this wasn’t the time for honesty, not when his friend potentially lay dying.
He raced down the hall and through the kitchen to reach the small stairway tucked behind the pantry.
It led to Grevin’s private ritual room. He had a larger one on the main floor for clients, but he had once explained to Quentin that most of his individual rituals required complete privacy and that he didn’t trust his clients not to interrupt at a critical stage.
He had keyed Quentin into the protective wards as a safety measure, knowing Quentin would never interrupt without a good reason.
An emergency text was as good as a printed invitation.
Disturbingly, he felt no wards brush against him as he raced down the short stairway.
He froze at the bottom. Like the front door, the ritual room door was open, wide open, allowing him to see inside. A waft of metal and brimstone-soaked air almost choked him as he dared to step through the entryway.
Blood.
Everywhere there was blood.