Chapter 2
LEAH
“You’re going to need stitches,” Karina pronounces.
My best friend is peering at my side as the first rays of sunlight slice through the wavy glass on her windows.
She lives in an old Victorian just like I do, but hers is decidedly witchier.
Two cats watch me from the breakfast nook.
There are herbs hung from the rafters and a sword on the wall.
In case I summon something dangerous, she once said.
“I’m too pretty for stitches. Give me one of those bandages. I know you have more.”
“Don’t be a hardo. On something infected, those bandages will hurt like hell.”
“No time for stitches to heal.” I grit my teeth against the pain as I shift.
Karina sighs. “What was it that got you again?”
“Ghoul.” I wince and let my shirt fall. Ghouls famously carry diseases on their claws. “Del called me at four a.m.”
My friend moves around the kitchen, pulling herbs from jars without glancing at the labels. “And you came running?”
I shade my eyes. The sunlight is giving me a headache. “I did. I was out anyway. He said it was terrorizing his cats.”
“And he paid you how much?”
I scrunch my face.
Karina raises both brows.
“He’s going to work on the truck for free next time.”
“That’s what he said last time.”
“Well, she needs a lot of work. She’s aging.” The red truck belonged to my great-aunt, which makes it older than I am.
Karina looks unimpressed. “Or you could start demanding money from the jobs you take on, and then you’d have a new truck.”
“I do take money,” I protest. At Karina’s look, I sigh.
“He was friends with my great-aunt. I’m not going to hound him for money on top of his cats getting killed.
I’m not a monster.” I knew Del wasn’t going to pay when I drove over there, just like I know what it’s like to need something and not be able to pay for it.
Karina’s expression is mutinous. “People are taking advantage of you.”
“I’ll shake the old man down for money next time, I swear. Maybe rough him up a bit. Or I’ll hold him down and you rough him up. I bet he’s got some pocket change you could steal.”
Karina purses her lips. “Not funny. You deserve to be here just as much as the rest of us. Just because you fucked up all those years ago doesn’t mean you have to go around sacrificing life and limb for free.”
I snort a tired laugh. I can’t summon Karina’s righteous anger, though it would certainly be better than feeling guilty for killing the mayor’s son all those years ago. If helping people out when a monster is killing their cats makes it feel like the scales are balancing, I’ll do it every day.
“What’s so funny?”
“Are you madder than I’m risking my life or madder than I’m doing it for free?”
My best friend hides a smile and dips a clean strip of cloth into the herb-scented water on the stove.
“So why are you really here? Because I know you have a few bandages at home. Unless you somehow used fifty of them since last month.” She slices me a look that says she wouldn’t be surprised before she fishes the bandage out and passes it to me.
“Shit.” The boiling water drips onto my legs, and the burns quickly heal as the herbs take effect. “I hate these things.”
“Fresh from the source. And you know it works better when hot.”
I blow on the cloth and work up the courage to press it to the oozing scratches on my side. I whimper when I press it to them, then sigh as the pain relief Karina doses these with starts working.
“Talk.” She drops into a chair across from me.
“I need a spell.”
Her eyes narrow. “What kind of spell?”
“A spell that will pull Marcus Antonius to me.”
Her mouth opens and then closes. “We talked about this when you asked for the locator spell. I can’t do a spell like that without a personal item or a piece of hair or—”
“Here.”
I slide the piece of leather wrapped in paper towel across the table.
She gapes. “You met him? Why aren’t you dead?”
I wince. “He didn’t see me. I hid.”
“Yikes.”
“I know.” Karina isn’t a hider, just like I’m not. I saw her zap a guy once for stealing her parking spot.
She unwraps the scrap of leather, careful not to touch it.
“This is big enough. I found a spell in my aunt’s library last time you asked.
Something really old that none of us have ever used before.
Compulsions like this don’t work well on other supernaturals.
On a human, it could force them to you. But on a vampire?
” Her gaze drifts to the counter where her potion-making supplies are organized.
“I can’t predict the results. It’s not like I’ve ever practiced on one. It could backfire.”
“How fast can you do it?”
“Don’t you think you should heal first?”
I shake my head. “He’s in the area now, but he might not be for long. This is the closest I’ve ever gotten. Who knows if the spell will work when he’s a thousand miles away?”
Karina pulls her lip into her mouth. “Do you really want him at your house?”
“I don’t have a choice. I need the containment spells my great-aunt set.
I can’t beat him one-on-one without some extra juice.
” At my friend’s uncertain look, I rub my palms on my jeans and lean forward.
“I’m tired of waiting. I’ve put my life on hold for this, Kar.
You know how many nights I haven’t slept.
I messed up and got scratched today because I was exhausted from hunting Marcus. ”
“I thought you were going to wait to confront him until you had magic. That’s what we talked about. When your magic awakens, you’ll go in for the kill.” Her voice has a desperate edge.
A long-abused muscle clenches inside me at the thought. “I can’t wait anymore. It’s not happening. I’m not my parents.”
Her mouth sets stubbornly. My best friend is fierce in spirit and in heart. She knows I miss my parents. She’s helped me with spells on countless nights.
“You could die.”
“Eh.” I wave a hand in the air. “I could die any given night.”
She frowns. “I don’t want to clean up Leah body parts off your lawn.”
I wag my brows. “Lucky for you I don’t have a lawn. Besides, he’s probably a pretty neat eater. The old ones always are.”
Karina makes a face, but I can see her wavering.
“You can have all my stuff,” I wheedle. “Even the truck.”
“I don’t want your stuff,” she bursts out. “Especially not that junker you drive. I want my friend alive.”
“Am I really living now?” I give her a half smile, but she doesn’t smile back.
She just pokes at the edge of the paper towel.
“I want to do more than think about revenge. I want to get a pet. Not one of the cats you keep trying to foist on me. Maybe try some new baking recipes. Go out more than once a week. Maybe I’ll even join the community board. ”
Her brow raise says it all.
“Okay, maybe not that. But you know what I mean. I have a half life. I need a full one. I need to kill him and move on.”
Because she’s my best friend, she knows exactly what killing my parents’ murderer means to me, and instead of questioning why revenge might make me happy, she simply sighs and pushes to stand.
“I got you,” she says, squeezing my arm. “I’ll brew it now. He could hunt you down as soon as this evening.”
“Great,” I say with cheeriness I don’t feel. I’m faking it until I make it, but right now? It feels like I might not live to see tomorrow morning.