Chapter Five
He had spent a lot of time in this office, going over accounts, balancing the books, paying what seemed like a never-end stream of bills, hiring and firing employees, ordering supplies.
Sometimes it amused him, how his life had changed from knight of the realm to vampire to the owner of a popular vacation spot.
Damn! What kind of life was this for an ancient vampire?
He could rule a kingdom as he had once ruled the vampires who had lived in Morgan Creek.
His word had been law. People had lived or died at his whim.
He stared out the window at the crowd of people strolling down the sidewalk, dining outside, laughing and talking.
He could destroy them all with a thought.
Imprison them as he had the hundreds of men and women in the past, feast on their blood until he was drunk with it. ...
Rylan! Stop it this instant! You don’t want to do that. I love you. Think about how happy we’ve been here. I can’t bear to lose you.
Kadie’s voice in his head. He took a deep breath, remembering how her love had changed him, made him realize how cruel it had been to keep people here as prey, to feed on them as if they were animals.
Thanks, Kadie. Darlin’. Don’t ever stop loving me.
Never! We’ll fight whatever this is together. I love you.
Love you more.
No way.
He grinned at the smile in her voice. Kadie loved him, that was all that mattered. He told himself he could get through anything as long as he had her in his corner. He just hoped it was true.
~ * ~
Kadie breathed a sigh of relief as she felt Rylan’s anger dissipate. Fighting down a growing panic, she Facetimed Micah and Ethan and told them what was happening.
“I didn’t think anything could ruffle his feathers,” Micah said. “He’s always been so strong and sure of himself. It has to be some kind of, I don’t know what. Another curse seems unlikely, especially one from a dead guy.”
“But that dead guy was a necromancer,” Kadie said. “Who knows what kind of evil he was capable of.”
“But he’s dead,” Ethan muttered. “I’ve never heard of the dead being able to influence the living. When witches die, their evil dies with them.”
“Well,” Micah remarked. “Technically, vampires are dead.”
Kadie shivered. “Don’t say that!”
“Well, it’s true,” Ethan said matter-of-factly. “Or Undead. So maybe it’s not as impossible as we think.”
“Or maybe it’s a curse or a plague peculiar to ancient vampires,” Micah suggested. “Like Luca’s curse only affected the young ones.”
“Or revenge from someone in his past,” Ethan suggested.
Kadie huffed a sigh. So many possibilities. Any one of them could be true. Or none at all.
“We’ll put our heads together,” Micah said. “The girls, too. If we think of anything, we’ll be in touch.”
“Tell Saintcrow to hang in there,” Ethan said. “And if you need us there, let me know.”
“I will. Thanks. Tell Holly and Sofia hi for me,” Kadie said, and ended the call. An ancient enemy? A curse from a dead necromancer? A plague common to ancient vampires? Revenge from an old enemy? Or maybe a new one?
Kadie shook her head, then fired up her computer. They said you could find anything on the Internet. She hoped like hell whoever they were was right.
~ * ~
Three nights later, Saintcrow was at home, watching an old movie with Kadie, when Kincaid called. “I found her,” he said, without preamble.
“Her?” Saintcrow asked.
“The witch I told you about.”
“No shit. Is she with you?”
“No. She lives in a tree house in the Everglades.”
“The Everglades?”
“Yeah. And she rarely leaves there. I told her about your problem and she’s willing to meet with you, if you’re interested.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night at midnight.”
Saintcrow snorted. “What is it with witches and midnight?”
“They don’t call it the witching hour for nothing, you know.”
“What’s it gonna cost me?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t say. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow night.”
Saintcrow grunted thoughtfully as he set his cell phone aside.
“The Everglades?” Kadie murmured. “You’re going there to meet a witch?”
“So it seems.”
“I’m going with you.”
“Like hell.”
“Rylan–”
“No. I have no idea what kind of witch she is. She might be crazy as a loon for all I know. Hell, she lives in a tree house. Probably has an alligator for a pet.”
“You should be writing fairy tales,” Kadie said dryly.
“I’ll keep that in mind. In the meantime...” He switched off the TV and gathered her into his arms. “How about a kiss for luck?”
“Just a kiss?”
“And whatever else you’d like to share. Like this,” he murmured, kissing the valley between her breasts. “And this,” he said, sliding his hands up and down her thighs. “Or this.” He ran his tongue the length of her neck. At her nod, he bit her gently.
Kadie moaned softly as pleasure unfolded deep within her.
Suddenly desperate to touch and be touched, she pulled him down on top of her, loving his weight, the feel of his arousal against her thigh.
Their clothing disappeared. A fire flared in the hearth.
And all thought of witches was forgotten as they made magic of their own.
~ * ~
Kincaid arrived at Saintcrow’s lair at five minutes to midnight. “Ready?”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kadie asked, looking anxious as she glanced from one man to the other.
“Not to worry,” Saintcrow said, with a wink. “Jake has a way with witches.”
Kincaid snorted. “I promise to bring our boy home,” he said. “Dead or alive.”
Kadie punched Jake on the arm. “That’s not the least bit funny!”
“Ow. Are you gonna let her hit me like that?” Jake complained with a mournful look at Saintcrow.
“Be nice to the man,” Saintcrow said as he wrapped his arm around Kadie’s waist and pulled her against him. “He’s very fragile, you know.” He kissed her, slow and deep. “Hopefully, we won’t be gone long. Wait up for me, okay?”
“As if I could sleep when you’re off to meet a strange witch in the Everglades, of all places.”
Saintcrow winked at her. “It’s definitely a first.” He kissed her again, then followed Jake out of the house, his curiosity growing as Kincaid transported them to their destination.
~ * ~
The tree house was enormous. Saintcrow had seen million-dollar homes that weren’t nearly as large. They stood at the foot of a twenty foot ladder, waiting for an invitation to climb up. After several minutes, a deep voice invited them “to ascend and enter.”
Kincaid tent first, since he knew the witch.
Saintcrow felt his curiosity growing by the minute as he followed Jake up the ladder to the door, which stood open.
From the outside, the house appeared to be crudely made of thick branches.
The inside was paneled in dark wood. A white leather sofa and two matching chairs were arranged around a glass-topped coffee table in front of a white marble fireplace.
Saintcrow whistled softly. Amazing what a little witchcraft could do to a tree house.
But it was the witch who caught and held his attention.
She was easily six-feet tall, her waist-length hair iron-gray, her eyes crocodile-green.
She wore some kind of a long, flowing, scarlet gown that glittered like rubies when she moved.
She wasn’t pretty in the usual sense of the word, but there was something about her that attracted him even as it repelled him.
Gesturing at the sofa, she said, “Please, be seated,” in a deep, deep voice.
Kincaid sat down at one end of the couch and, after a moment, Saintcrow sat at the other end.
“Mr. Kincaid has told me about your problem,” the witch said in that deep, gravelly voice. “Do you wish my help?”
“It’s why I’m here,” Saintcrow replied. “What’s it’s gonna cost me?”
“A favor.”
“A favor,” Saintcrow repeated suspiciously. “What kind of favor?”
“I have not yet decided.”
The witch flowed toward him and reached for his hand. Her skin was as cold as death. “I need to taste you,” she said.
“Not until I know your name,” he said.
“You may call me Atalanta.”
“That’s not your name.”
She lifted one brow. “Are you calling me a liar?”
Saintcrow shrugged. “I want the name you were born with. I’m sure Kincaid has told you mine.”
“I am Alara.”
“The truth at last.”
“As I said, I need to taste you.”
“Shouldn’t I be biting you?”
“Do you wish my help or not?” she snapped.
Saintcrow glared at her, his dislike growing by the moment. He flinched when she sat beside him. It was like sitting next to a block of ice.
“Are you ready?”
He shrugged. “Go for it.”
He had spent centuries biting others, had, on occasion let other vampires bite him.
Nothing had prepared him for the witch’s bite.
Her teeth were like knives, sharp and icy, as she buried them in his neck and drank.
And drank. He was about to push her away when she lifted her head and licked his blood from her pale lips.
Her tongue was black. And forked. Saintcrow swore under his breath. What the hell!
Her deep-throated laughter sent a chill down his spine. “I am a dual person,” she hissed as she rose sinuously to her feet. “Part human. Part reptile.”
Saintcrow looked at Kincaid. Did you know about this?
Kincaid shook his head imperceptivity.
“There is definitely something wrong with you,” the witch said.
“I sense your growing anger and agitation. Your restlessness. And your fear. Fear of losing control. Fear of killing the one you love. But I cannot sense the reason or the source.” She pulled a pint-sized bottle and a knife from out of the air.
“I will need a sample of your blood. And some of your skin. And hair.”
Saintcrow glared at Jake as the witch cut a shallow gash in his wrist and filled the bottle, then sliced off a one-inch section of skin from his arm. Lastly, she cut off a length of his hair.
“What are you gonna do with all that?” He’d read her mind, knew she didn’t mean him any harm, and yet he was uncomfortable at the thought of this strange creature having any part of him.
“Whatever is necessary.”