He was out of her life. And life would be better off without his danger.
So why, then, did she search the crowd in hopes of spying his dark tangle of hair and regretful eyes?
Ian Grim looked up from the crushed raven bone he was preparing to burn along with rowan bark and amber in the mortar. Perched over his spell table all afternoon, daylight had slipped away from him. His lover for centuries, Dasha, was away to Venice photographing a piece for a Gothic magazine. When the cat was away, the mouse did like to play.
Candlelight flickered, yet he had to blink a few times to adjust his focus on the tracking spell set before the windowsill.
It was moving.
Finally.
Dropping the steel pestle in the mortar, Grim rushed to the windowsill and leaned over the brass pendulum. It was suspended from a fine chain above a map of Paris. Paris being the most likely place to find Certainly Jones. It was his home, after all, and a man rarely strayed far from home. But since Grim had become aware of Joness return from Daemonia six months earlier, hed been off the grid. The dark witch had warded himself into a literal black hole. And only Jones was capable of concealing himself with such powerful magic.
Grim had been patient. This vita spell utilized a strand of hair hed gotten off Jones and had been saving for decades. It sniffed out Joness DNA.
So youve been injured, he muttered, studying the map below the pendulum. It pointed to a spot along the Seine and didnt move from there. Just a drop then. Not trailing blood in your wake.
Unfortunate, because it would not ultimately lead him to Jones, unless of course, hed been injured where he lived. He doubted the witch would allow that to happen. But having his blood would make it easier to break through the wards, perhaps even conjure a battering spell. No matter, with the witchs blood he could concoct a successful tracking spell.
I will find you, Jones. And then whatever you took from Daemonia and he had his suspicions will be mine.
Vika had the hearse towed to a local car repair shop. Other than the broken headlight and a wicked scrape in the metal down the passengers side, everything was in working order. The brake pads needed changing soon, the repairman suggested, but could probably go another few months if she needed to save for such an expense.
Vika thanked him and drove away. The sun cast a thin pink ribbon along the horizon as it dipped below the dark silhouette of a city park. While waiting for the repair work to be done, shed sat in a café across the street, nursing a pumpkin mocha latte. She was hungry now but felt antsy. Heading home to make dinner was not tops on her list. She wasnt ready to explain her harrowing experience to Libby and get the big sad eyes from her or the admonishment for hanging out with such a dangerous man.
CJ wasnt dangerous; it was the demons infesting his soul who harbored the danger.
Infested, she muttered.
It sounded wicked and not at all appealing. And yet, he could not control the demons. And she couldnt get the sight of his sad jade eyes out of her thoughts.
The man could be a perfectly nice, kind soul if shed give him opportunity to prove that. Not to mention his compelling sensuality. When hed been in her spell room, hed seemed so grounded, comfortable in his skin. Shed been attracted to his power, against her better judgment.
What are you doing? she whispered. Dont try to talk yourself into liking the guy. Just move on.
Right. She could find the missing soul by herself. Didnt need a witch who knew every magic in the book to help her. Much as shed like to delve into his magical knowledge, she knew that way lay disaster.
So his intelligence appeals to you, she reasoned out loud as she navigated the streets, taking a bridge across the river to the Left Bank. Not the side of the city she lived on. Because it certainly isnt his looks. Dark, wicked, evil-looking man.
And yet his hair was so glossy it gleamed like hematite in the light, and despite that odd tattooed hand, his fingers were long, graceful and full of expression. A mans hands told so much about the owner. And his eyesgoddess, but he was attractive in a sad, pleading way.
I was hard on him after the crash. He could have been hurt. Oh, I wonder if he was?
The emergency crew with the ambulance had told her she checked out, and then cautioned her to have someone stay with her tonight and keep an eye on her in case of a concussion. But what about Certainly?
If he was hurt he could be lying on a street somewhere, bleeding out. If he lays there too long, itll grow dark and then
Her heart sped up at the thought of CJs demons rampaging the streets of Paris. It would be her fault, too, because shed dismissed him so quickly and so angrily.
I shouldnt have taken my anger out on him. It wasnt his fault.
Stopping at a sign, Vika remembered hed told her his address. It was a nice neighborhood in the fifth, and she wasnt far from there. She turned the hearse toward his building.
Just a quick check. I need to know hes not dying.
Then, she could put away her worry for Certainly Jones and be done with him.
Certainly trampled down the stairs from the buildings roof and into the brightly lit hallway before his flat to find Vika poised to knock on his front door. In a flash of red hair and heather skirts, the witch turned to him and offered what looked like a forced smile.
This is an unexpected pleasure, he offered. Or is it?
I couldnt rest without checking to see if you were all right.
Thoughtful of you. Yet he was leery. Shed raged at him after the crash. As shed had every right. The trouble he could give her was not something he wanted to unleash on her quiet, perfect life. Im good. Not even a scrape.
Then you havent looked in a mirror. Theres blood on your forehead.
He touched his forehead, feeling the crusty trail of blood and examining the crimson flakes on his fingertips. Damn. Hed been cut? He hadnt felt it or realized it until now because hed gone straight up to the roof. Had he bled at the accident sight? Not good. Extremely not good if hed left behind even a single drop of blood.
Are you all right?
Are you all right?
He nodded absently, not wishing to let on to his alarm. This was something in which he must never involve Vika. It was too dark for her brightness. Thanks to the menace demon, hed already rubbed a black mar along her life.
Im sorry, Vika. Theres nothing I can do to change what happened. And I cant claim no fault because it was me doing the bad stuff, despite my body not being completely my own during that awful moment.
Yes, but it wasnt your fault. It was the menace demon who made you do it.
It was, but that you believe me meanswow. Thank you. Just, thank you. That means a lot.
Ive had a few hours to think it over while I was waiting for the car to be repaired.
You got it in already?
Yes, well, a little persuasive magic never hurts, does it? She winked and then touched her lips, as if rethinking that impulsive act. I stopped by because I needed to know youre not hurt. How are you?
Shaken and stirred, but all in one piece.
Same with me. I think we both need to get some rest. Can you...sleep? If a cloudy day brings up your demons, I cant imagine what night does to you.
Ive trained myself to sleep with all the lights on. Not the most relaxing, and Im lucky if I doze for three or four hours a night. Noctambulatory, remember? Spend a lot of time bent over my workshop table, crafting spells that never work. Lately, I cant manage more than allotriophagy or scrying. Dont give me that look. You know someone has to practice dark magic to balance the light. I bet I seem a real basket case to you.
You do.
He rubbed a palm down his chest. Demonic possession tends to leave me a bit worse for wear. But I clean up nicely. Will you come in and let me make you something to eat? I can do amazing things with fresh veggies. I promise you will be impressed.
No, I
Right. Its not safe with me, he added, stepping back from her defensive posture. Probably it would be better if you drove to your little round, white home and put your spice rack in order.
It is in order. Alphabetized, too.
Naturally. Have you eaten?
No. She sighed. Resisting the offer, surely. Scanning the tiled walls and ceiling, she avoided eye contact with him. He knew his eyes went red when a demon was in control, and he hated shed seen him like that. The lights are very bright out here, she offered.
Ive replaced them all with the highest wattage possible. The residents bitch about it, but Ive put a shock spell on the fixtures so if they try to change themzap!
Thats cruel.
Its called survival. He clutched the doorknob. Give me a few minutes to try to win back your trust after our harrowing experience this afternoon? Dinner and then a sip of chartreuse?
I am a bit peckish. And I prefer crème de violette. But I wont stay long. You feed me, then Im out of here.
Excellent. I happen to have crème de violette. I should warn you before going inside. Theres no real way to prepare a person. What Ive acquired since returning to this realm, what I surround myself with, is a means to survival.
She gave him a hopeful gaze, and his heart thudded hard. Those huge emerald eyes. He wanted to kiss them and savor them. Apologize to them and be worthy of their admiration.
So try me, she said.
All right. But take it all in before you say anything. Promise?
She nodded, and when he opened the door, the red witch stepped over the threshold and gasped, clutching her throat, as her eyes veered skyward.
Chapter 5
Head tilted back, Vika wandered into the huge loft apartment that mastered the sixth floor. Marveling, she took in all the busy wonders suspended above her.
Prismatic light, she whispered, her footsteps moving her slowly forward across the hardwood floor.
Everywhere hung chandeliers. Clear crystal chandeliers, colored and black crystals, all strung, attached and hanging upon silver, brass and black iron and steel fixtures. The entire rainbow dazzled. And bewildered. There were massive structures stretching over six, seven, even eight feet across, and smaller ones hung as if fruits laden heavily within an orchard.