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Binding Magick: an Urban Fantasy Novel (The Witch Blood Chronicles Book 1) Page 9
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“Okay, good plan. If we find one with missing feathers we … what? Corner him and question him? I guess if he cares about Urvashi we could guilt him into talking … heck he may be as desperate to find her as we are. And if there’s one missing, then we ask one of the others about him. We just lay it on the line. Tell them the truth and ask them to help us figure out what attacked their brother.”
No, they could be involved somehow …
Banner snorted. “You don’t know much about the Ghandarva do you?”
“I know enough.”
“No, you really don’t. The Ghandarva are a close-knit bunch. They don’t give a shit about mortal law. They don’t give a shit about anyone but one another. And they certainly don’t take mortals into their confidence. If one of their own is hurt, they’ll be like mother lions banding to protect him, and they’ll hunt the person responsible for the injuries.”
“But we want the same thing. If we explain then—”
“It won’t make a difference. The fact apsaras are being taken won’t matter to them. Nothing matters unless it directly affects them. They are and always will be one of the most selfish creatures.”
“So just talking to them is out of the question?”
“Yes.”
“Then what do we do?”
“We slip away from the party and take the lifts to the upper floors. The lift operates on thumb-print recognition.”
This was branching into Mission Impossible territory. “So, how do we get it to work?”
He grinned. “That’s where the old sleuthing tricks come in. Leave getting the print to me.”
“You can do that?”
“You’d be surprised what I can do.” He sipped his brandy.
“Magick? A spell to replicate prints?”
“I’m sure there is, or if not then one could be designed. But the celebration will be warded to detect unauthorized use of magick.”
Shit. “So how then?”
“Technology. Once we’re in the penthouse suite we’re going to search it.”
It sounded risky … too risky. “What’s the rest of the security like? Do we know?”
He sighed. “I tried to get ahold of blueprints, but they’re classified.”
I shifted in my seat. “What if we get caught?”
Banner smiled slowly. “I’m sure we can come up with some kind of excuse for needing to slip away from the party.”
He was looking at me like I was something delicious, and it was doing funny things to my pulse. He reached out and took my hand across the table.
Paimon tensed, and I flinched.
He leaned in, his expression sobering. “We have eyes on us, so …”
Ah, he was play acting. Okay, I could live with that. I relaxed and fixed a smile on my face.
“It’s kind of thrilling, having to make do without magick,” he said.
I snorted. “Not when you go without using it every day it isn’t.”
He frowned. “You don’t use it?”
I extricated my hand from his. “I can’t.”
He sat back. “You’re a witch-blood.”
I picked up my glass and took a sip. “A witch-blood with no magick”
He studied me from beneath dark brows. “No … I can sense the magick on you.”
Carmella.
Shit, he was picking up on Paimon.
Damn, time for a distraction. I licked my lips, and leaned forward slightly. His gaze fell to my chest. He blinked and fixed his attention back on my face, with a slight frown marring his forehead.
The waiter materialized and placed our meals before us. They smelled and looked delicious.
“Bon appétit,” Banner said.
We ate in silence for a few minutes, the pleasant low buzz and hum of the restaurant providing a comfortable backdrop to the delicious meal, when suddenly the buzz grew louder then dropped to a reverent hush.
I froze, mid-bite. What was all the fuss about? Banner continued to slice his steak and popped a piece of meat into his mouth chewing slowly. Couldn’t he feel the tension in the air? Around us the men sat up straighter and the women pushed out their chests, licking their lips. All eyes were on the entrance where the hugest man I’d ever seen was conversing with the maître de. His shirt strained over his chest and biceps, trousers cupping his arse like it was a perfect peach. And then he turned and looked my way. If his profile had been gorgeous, the full effect of his face was like a blow to the sternum.
Banner coughed. “That’s Vritra, asura and CEO of Shaitan Corp.”
Vritra had locked gazes with me, his eyes like embers, boring into mine as if searching for some hidden truth. And then he broke away from the maître de and began to stride over. No, it was less a stride and more a prowl, like a predator stalking prey. Something primal surged up inside me, squeezing my throat tight and drying out my mouth.
I dropped my gaze. “He’s coming this way.” My voice was breathless.
Banner dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “Of course he is.”
Vritra came to a halt at our table and a waiter appeared with a seat for him. The huge demi-god joined us, his massive frame dwarfing us. The heat of his regard was a brand on the side of my face, penetrating and blatantly intimate.
“Are you enjoying your meal?” His voice was a cavernous vibration. His scent cinnamon and thunder.
Shit he was addressing me. I lifted my chin and smiled. “It’s delicious. Your restaurant is lovely.”
A smile played on his lips. “Yes. Lovely.”
Banner cleared his throat. “Nice to see you again, Vritra.”
Vritra sat back in his seat, tearing his attention from me. “Have you considered my offer?”
Banner inclined his head. “Still considering.”
“Well, don’t take too long. There are many covens in the city that would jump at the chance.”
“And yet you came to me.”
Vritra chuckled. A deep, ominous sound that made the hairs on the nape of my neck shiver.
He turned his attention back to me. “Were you intending to fuck him?”
My fork slipped from my hand, clattering against my plate. Had I heard right?
From the look on Banner’s face, and the severe look on Vritra’s, it seemed I had.
Icy heat filled my chest—a rage that wasn’t all my own, although my words were. “That’s none of your damn business.”
Banner winced. But the action was on the periphery of my vision, because I was in the middle of a staring contest with a demi-god. Peering into embers that seemed to flicker and flare and draw me in.
Look away.
Hell no. That would be admitting I was intimidated by him, and I was done being intimidated.
Vritra finally smiled and blinked. Ha! He broke first.
“I’ll leave you to enjoy your meal.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “I hope to see you again Miss Hunter.”
It was only when he’d vanished into the kitchens that it hit me … how the hell did he know my name?
_____
The car came to a smooth halt behind the bakery.
“Be wary of Vritra,” Banner said.
“It’s not like I’ll be seeing him again, so I doubt I’ll need to be anything.”
Banner tapped the wheel of his car. “But he’s seen you, and Vritra tends to get what he wants. You noticed the fuss when he entered the restaurant, right?”
Not easy to miss. I nodded.
“Well, it’s more than just him being the owner of the place. Vritra is a serpent dragon and since awakening four years ago, he’s been searching for a mate.”
“Oh …”
“Yeah, and every woman wants to be his woman.”
“Why? I mean … he’s … obnoxious and rude.”
“And the most powerful entity in the city next to Indra, and sexy … or so I’ve been told. But they haven’t done their research. Myth has it he was slain by Indra for hoarding the rivers of the world.”
&
nbsp; “But he’s alive.”
“Yeah, myth tends to get distorted. Myth also has it he’s more sura than asura.”
“Okay, you lost me.”
“Asuras are demi-gods because they were born from the unions of god and man. But some asuras sipped from the nectar of the gods, they were given a taste of amrit and became suras or as some like to call them, devas—benevolent divine beings. Asuras, said to be jealous of their divine brothers, were labeled as malevolent.”
“So you think he’s a deva?”
He tapped the steering wheel. “Who knows?”
Vritra and benevolent didn’t click in the same sentence. There was too much danger in the air around that creature.
“Are they really brothers? The asura and the suras?”
Banner shrugged. “I believe all the suras and asuras descended from the same bloodline. So at the least they’re all related somehow.”
He was studying my face carefully, and Paimon shifted in my head, agitated.
“I should get inside.” I reached for the door.
His hand landed gently on my arm, and I turned back to look at him in the gloom.
A small self-deprecating smile played on his lips. “Look, I’m probably not the man for you. Heck, I don’t think I’m the man for anyone, but … be careful. If he contacts you again … just be careful.”
What to say to that? “I’ll see you Saturday?”
“Yeah, you will.”
I climbed the steps up to my flat above the bakery and let myself in. Banner’s engine purred to life just as I pushed the door to.
And then a hand closed over my mouth, stifling my scream.
15
T he hand pressed down on my mouth. “Don’t make a sound.” The voice was feminine.
Not like I could do much with her hand over my mouth. But a little trick I’d learned … I flicked out my tongue and licked the palm of her hand.
She released me reflexively. “What the … did you just …?”
I spun and smacked her in the face with my open palm. Where I came from they called that a bitch slap.
She fell back and Paimon’s power surged through my veins. My body vibrated, ready for action. Cool air pressed against my back.
I’m here.
The woman, dressed in black, hair pulled back off her sharp-featured face, eyed me speculatively. “What are you?”
“Pissed off. What the fuck are you?”
“Curious.”
We circled each other—not easy in my small flat. She moved catlike, confident. Me? Not so much. The damn dress with all its hip-hugging mojo wasn’t helping, and my comfy pumps weren’t designed for spin kicks.
“What does he see in you?” She cocked her head, eyeing me with blatant interest.
“Who are you talking about? Banner?”
She made a strangled sound. “The playboy? Anyone can see what he sees in you. You have them on display for the world to ogle.”
My hand went to my breasts and she leapt at me, grabbing me so quickly I didn’t have time to counteract. Dammit I was so shit at this. No wonder I’d failed as an operative … but I still had Paimon’s mojo. I grabbed her arm, which was pressed to my throat, and gave her a taste of ice.
“Shit!” She released me, and a gust of wind shoved her back against the wall.
Run.
I bolted for the door just as it slammed open and Mira strode in. She stood, hands on hips, face a mask of sadistic glee. “Ooo, can I play too?”
My unwelcome guest froze, her gaze going form Mira to me then back to Mira. The hinn’s eyes flashed electric blue and then she attacked, morphing midair into the huge panther that had scared off the guys high on Nix.
The sharp-featured woman backed up. “Fuck this. This is crazy.” She ran at the window and leaped through. Mira followed, morphing into a cat to squeeze through, and was gone.
I fell onto the sofa. “Oh, god. What the fuck was that?”
It’s all right. You’re all right.
I’d been attacked in my own home by a crazy woman who’d been chased off by a morphing hinn who, let’s be honest, would probably love to fuck me then eat me if not for Paimon telling her she couldn’t, and I was … fine. Seriously fine. No tremors, no desire to scream.
“I’m okay.”
Yes … yes I do believe you are.
_____
Living in fear can take a toll on a person: fear of failing, fear of being a loser, fear of bad shit happening, and fear of being unloved. I’d lived with the F word all my life, and yeah, I’d gotten lucky with a few good friends who told me every day that I was worth it. But it doesn’t matter how many times someone else tells you these things. It doesn’t matter … not until you believe. And somehow, since Paimon had come into my life, I was beginning to believe.
The morning seemed brighter, fresher, even though it was probably 100 degrees outside and it was barely five in the morning. My body was energized, my mind buzzing with possibilities. My life was filled with actions needing to be taken. And despite the uncertainty hovering on the horizon and the risks I’d have to take to resolve them, positivity ruled my mind.
Mira hadn’t managed to catch up with my inquisitive visitor last night, but she’d succeeded in getting hold of a license plate number to a motorbike. Maybe Banner could trace it for me later? There was no rush. After the fright Mira had given the woman I’d be surprised if she showed up again. The hinn was feeling pretty pleased with herself too. She’d returned, grinning like an evil Cheshire cat.
All the drama aside, Urvashi’s bakery still needed to be run. She’d be pissed if she came back to find we’d closed it up and made a loss. No. Brenda would need to be given a temporary promotion, and maybe we needed to hire someone part-time? I refused to dwell on what may be happening to Urvashi while we waited, refused to wonder what may have happened already, or I’d go nuts. There was nothing to be done until we had the information from the Ghandarva.
Paimon? Are you there?
Nothing.
Probably sleeping in.
I headed down to the bakery to open up, flipping on the lights and getting the ovens all warmed up.
A clatter out front, followed by a muttered curse.
What the fuck? Grabbing a rolling pin, I tiptoed toward the counter and froze, rolling pin aloft.
“Hey babe, thanks for opening up.” Urvashi grinned at me from the cash register.
“What the actual fuck?”
She sighed. “Okay, I know, I know.” She held up her hands. “You have every right to be mad at me. I promised I wouldn’t play hooky without telling you first. But I met this guy, and we went on this three-day sex binge.” She frowned. “It’s awful of me I know, but calling completely slipped my mind.”
Was she having a laugh? “Urvashi? Seriously? Where were you? I went to your house. Your bedroom was trashed. There were Ghandarva feathers everywhere.”
She stared at me as if I was speaking in tongues.
“I reported you missing. You were taken.”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times, her eyes dazed. “No. I … I went home. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. I was away …” her gaze grew dreamy and a soft smile painted her lips. “He was so wonderful … such a fantastic lover.”
This was bullshit. Something was wrong. “Really? So where is this awesome guy?”
She sighed. “Alas, he had to leave for a business trip. But he said he’d call when he got back.”
“You have his number?”
Once again that fish mouth. And then her expression hardened. “I get it. You’re pissed off. But you have no right to quiz me. Don’t forget I’m your boss, not the other way round.”
Ooo, there were so many things I could have said to that, but she wasn’t herself. My gut was screaming warnings.
“I’m sorry. I was just … I was so worried about you.”
She exhaled and the anger melted away like it had never been there. “Come here, give me a hug.” She envelop
ed me in her familiar jasmine embrace and pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “Look, take the day off. You deserve it.”
“Paid?”
She chuckled. “Of course paid. Go on, shoo.”
I left her humming a lilting melody and legged it back up to my flat.
Paimon, dammit, you there?
I heard. A stretch and a yawn. But I sense no enchantment.
Shit. This is weird … too weird. It was time for some answers, and speed dial three had better give them to me.
Melody answered on the fifth ring. “Hell, Hunter, I’m kinda busy can I—”
“Urvashi is back but she’s not herself.”
Melody drew a deep breath. “I know. They’re all back. Each and every missing apsara.”
“Not so classified now?” I began to pace.
“I’m sorry, I really am. But you did the training, you know how it is.”
Yeah, I did. “But why pretend there was nothing going on? Why make out the disappearances didn’t matter?”
“Not my call. Theory was, if we kept the details under wraps, went about business as usual and downplayed the whole thing, the perpetrator would get bold. They’d think we weren’t on to them and slip up.”
That was all very well but … “You also put apsaras at risk by not alerting them something was wrong, that their kind was being taken. If they’d known they may have been wary, maybe there wouldn’t have been anymore disappearances.”
“Not my decision. The powers that be made a call, we just followed it, and honestly, I don’t think it would have stopped our perp. This guy, or whatever it is, is good. No trace of a struggle, no real evidence anything untoward has happened. Your friend’s case was the first where there was any actual evidence of violence. The other reports of missing apsaras were simply that—reports that women had vanished from their homes. Easily missed if there hadn’t been so many reports in the same area in the space of a few months. It flagged up and we made a connection.”
“So not so smart of the perp then?”
“I don’t know about smart. I’m thinking maybe they just don’t care, or maybe they’re super confident they won’t get caught.”
“And they haven’t been, because the apsara are all back.” I stopped pacing and perched on the edge of the sofa-bed. “What are we going to do? This can’t be some coincidence. All the missing people returned on the same day?”