Chapter Four
By the time she arrived back at her one-bedroom apartment she was moving with a purposeful stride. Dumping her handbag on the armchair, she headed for the bookshelf. There were a lot of books there though she wasn’t much of a reader - it was only of those things she’d had good intentions about.
It took a while to find what she was after, but finally Soph pulled the spell book from the back of the shelf and blew dust from the cover. It wasn’t an ancient book - previously it had belonged to her mother, so it was only a generation old - but the pages were creased and adorned with coffee-stain rings.
Soph flopped down on the lounge with the spell book and flicked through the pages until she found a section on vampires.
As she did, she once again fingered the amulet at her neck. It was a simple pewter charm with a pentacle etched on it, but Nona had charmed it for her, so Soph knew it worked. Except it hadn’t worked against the vampire at all.
He’s a possessive.
It was Luie’s voice in her head, reminding her of the power her vampire had. Had he used it against her? Somehow influenced her into asking him out for a drink? She certainly hadn’t intended to.
She found the page she was looking for and leaned over it, tracing the words with her finger. There was a list of wards against vampires scribed there, ranging from simple ones that allowed the caster to flee to more complex spells, which would bind a vampire.
There was other information noted in her mother’s looping handwriting, such as weakening a vampire with silver, or killing it with wood speared through the heart. There was also a list of common traits, which included drinking human blood for sustenance, their incredible speed and superhuman strength. She found nothing about possessive powers.
Soph chewed the inside of her lip as she ran her hand down the page. It read as if her mother had simply transcribed the information from a textbook rather than having any intimate knowledge. Right at the bottom of the page, she found one useful line of information.
Vampire blood has healing properties for humans, as well as the ability to enhance the senses. In witches, it can increase natural abilities by tenfold. It has been known for a witch to try to taste a vampire’s blood to ensure a fairer fight against him.
Beware, however, for vampire blood can be highly addictive and can cause irrational tendencies, which may jeopardise a witch’s life in her unrelenting quest to get another fix.
Soph sat back, amused. She rarely partook in drugs - though she could be partial to a well-rolled spliff now and then - but there were obviously witches out there who did. Her vampire had assumed she’d wanted a hit, hadn’t he? He must have thought she was after his blood.
Her hand slid to her thigh, remembering how he’d grabbed her there. She hadn’t even asked how he’d known she was a witch. Her skin prickled as she recalled his breath against her ear. Witchling. Her own hand tightened over the place he’d grasped her. She hadn’t even asked his name.
Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
* * *
Soph drummed her fingers on the bar top and avoided looking at the time on her phone. Again. She’d arrived at Benny’s on time, which meant her vampire was now late.
Maybe he’d come to his senses and stood her up. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed by that thought.
She relinquished, clicking the button on the side of her phone to light it up. Five-fifteen. He was a quarter of an hour late, to be exact.
Sighing, she let her legs swing against the bar stool. She’d unceremoniously dumped her handbag on the floor beneath her. She had charged her crystals, however, and found a sheath for her athame.
“An apple martini,” she requested as the bartender slid her way again. She wouldn’t be able to sit here for free much longer.
“And a scotch. Neat,” a deep voice said beside her. Her pulse kicked off, and she almost fell off her stool in surprise. Had almost convinced herself he wasn’t coming. He sat down on the stool beside her, eyeing her wearily. If she didn’t know better, she would have said he seemed almost afraid of her. She had no idea why. He was the bloody vampire.
“Well,” she began as the bartender slid their drinks towards them. She lifted hers in a toast. “To you, for saving me.” He took up his own glass and returned the gesture. “Why did you, by the way?” She watched as he took a drink. “You know, save me?”
“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” His voice was tight, and she couldn’t help but notice how his stormy eyes kept glancing away.
“You regret it now?” She had a feeling that he wanted to go, but she still had so many questions for him. And when was she likely to ever meet a vampire again?
“I didn’t exactly anticipate that you’d come looking for me.”
“Didn’t want to be caught out as a good vampire, huh?”
This time he looked directly at her and his eyes, sharp as steel, bore into hers. Breath catching in her throat, her fingers itched to rise to her amulet, though the token remained dormant and cold against her skin. It seemed like an eternity, but his gaze eventually swept away to scout the bartender working nearby.
“Perhaps we should get a booth,” he suggested. Without waiting for a response, he downed his drink, signalled for another, then turned away from the bar.
Soph jumped off her stool, scooped up her bag, and followed him. Before she could reach the booth, however, he grasped her arm in a vice-like grip.
“First,” he hissed, forcing her to walk forward, “If you want to talk about supernatural things, you should at least check to see who’s listening. Second, if you want to keep talking,” he shoved her into the booth, then pointed at her handbag, “you need to deactivate your ward.”
She stared up at him, hands clutched over the straps of her bag. Her heart raced, but she experienced a pinch of pride. She hadn’t been sure her ward would actually work when she’d bound it to one of her crystals, but apparently it was the source of his discomfort.
In her pause, he took a step backwards, an obvious indication that he’d leave if she didn’t do as he demanded. Clutching her bag, she quickly weighed up her options - did she cut her losses or risk her protection to keep him here?
Another step away, and she plunged her hand into her bag, seeking the offending crystal before he could bolt. It was hot to touch, and she curled her fingers around it, drawing its energy into her body. As she did so, she could see the vampire’s stance relax somewhat. Had her ward really made him so uncomfortable?
She didn’t completely drain the crystal. Though she wanted him to stay, she wasn’t suicidal enough to leave herself completely unguarded. When she let go of the stone, it still held some of the warding spell, just enough for her to run if she needed to. The vampire seemed to find this acceptable, for he finally sat across from her.
The bartender brought them fresh drinks, and the vampire spread his hands wide on either side of his glass. An offering. “Ask your questions.”
Soph sat back, surprised. “Anything?”
“No, not anything. But you can give it a red hot crack.”
She chewed the inside of her lip. Where to start?
“What’s your name?”
“Eli Damiani.”
Eli Damiani. Where had she heard that before?
“How did you know I was a witch yesterday?”
The corners of Eli’s lips curled and Soph would have said he was smiling if it weren’t for the dangerous glint in his eyes. “I could smell it on you.”
Well, that was creepy.
“Don’t you have any questions for me?” Soph asked.
“No.”
That stung more than she thought it would. “You don’t even want to know my name?”
“You’re Sophia Giannopoulos, a graphic designer at Paxus, and you turned twenty-five last month.” Eli sat back, amused by the astonished look that passed over her face.
“Just Soph,” she corrected, then added incredulously, “did you read my mind?”
Eli snorted. “I read your employee file.”
“How -” she closed her mouth. He was a vampire. He would have been in and out of her office within minutes. Perhaps he even undertook his reconnaissance mission within business hours.
He watched her, waiting. The index finger of his left hand drew circles around the rim of his glass and she got the feeling that he was ready to leave. She wanted him to stay, though she couldn’t pinpoint why she was so drawn to him. She took a moment to study him properly. Sitting this close, she could tell that the slate grey suit he wore was expensive. Everything from the white silk lining to the gold stud cufflinks at his wrists was tailored to his body, and she remembered acutely what it felt like to be pinned against it.
Dragging her gaze upward, she met his eye again. He was reserved, but she thought she detected a hint of curiosity in the way he watched her. His dark brown hair was combed back. Neat. Professional. But she imagined it would look just as right on him, mused and falling over his brow to frame those striking thunderstorm eyes.
He cleared his throat, and she blushed. Good one, she’d been staring too long.
“My cousin says that you’re a possessive,” she tried to cover her none-too-proper train of thought and immediately regretted her words. His expression darkened, and he stood.
“That’s enough,” he said. “Thanks for the drinks.” Without looking back, he started for the door.
“Wait!” She raced to grab her handbag and follow him. “Wait! Just tell me one thing!”
He must have heard the desperation in her voice, for he paused, his hand on the door. She skidded to a stop beside him, glancing around once to make sure no one was close enough to hear. “Just tell me,” she continued in a whisper. “Have you used your magic on me?”
He let out a low huff of laughter, though he didn’t look at her. “If I had used it on you, you would know.”
“How? How would I know?”
He finally glanced at her, searching her eyes. His lips twitched to a small smile, as if he knew some joke she didn’t. “Because,” he responded slowly, “if I had, you’d be locked in my basement with my collection.”
Then he was gone. Soph lurched out the door after him, but he’d vanished into the Friday night revellers on the street.
“Hey!” The bartender from Benny’s jerked the door open after her. “You still have to pay!”
“Sorry,” she said, her eyes still scanning the street, though she knew her efforts were futile. She finally turned and gave the bartender a guilty smile. “Do you take card?”