Blood Kissed

  How could the elders even pass such a rule, let alone want to? It was a government requirement that a witch be present on all reservations. Aside from providing magical assistance when needed, they were also the government’s mouthpieces and rule enforcers. But it was the magic aspect of the situation that made the decision even more surprising. Castle Rock was filled with wild magic, and it was very dangerous to leave such a force unguarded for too long. While wild magic in and of itself was neither good nor bad, without a witch to protect and channel it, it would be a draw to the darker forces of the world.

  Maybe that’s why you felt called here, Belle said. Maybe you’re meant to take up that position.

  Even if wild magic had the will to do such a thing, I said, mental tones heavy with sarcasm, it could certainly do a whole lot better than me.”

  No one fully understands the wild places of this world. Don’t be so certain such magic has no sentience.

  Which only reinforces my point. I took another sip of tea. “Why would they ban witches? What happened here?”

  Marjorie shrugged. “No one really knows. The elders don’t always communicate the reason behind their rulings, and it’s not like we humans are invited to council meetings.”

  Because all werewolf reservations were self-governing—up to a point, anyway— any humans who chose to live in them had to accept that they would never have a say in any decisions made.

  “Please help me,” Marjorie added softly. “You must.”

  I blew out a breath and crossed mental fingers that my intuition was wrong—that this search wouldn’t end as I suspected it might. “I’ll try. Just… don’t get your hopes up. As I’ve said, there’s never any guarantee when it comes to this sort of search.”

  Marjorie leaned forward and clasped my hand. The move caught me by surprise and images surged; a pigtailed little girl, laughing in delight as her father swung her around in a circle. That same girl—older, angrier—screaming at Marjorie that she was the reason her dad had left and that she never wanted to see her again. Recent history, not past, at least in the case of that last vision.

  “You’re trying,” Marjorie said. “That’s all I want. All Karen needs.”

  I blinked and the images shattered, leaving behind little more than childish echoes of anger and hurt. I gently pulled my hand from hers. I’d been well enough trained that touching people generally posed no threat; the only time my talents broke free of their leash was when I either desired it, or at times like this, when I was caught by surprise.

  “I need something of hers. Something she has a lot of contact with.”

  “That would be her phone,” Marjorie said. “And she has it with her, even if she’s not answering.”

  I half smiled. “I mean something more personal; something she wore close to her skin.”

  “Ah.” Marjorie frowned. “Would jewelry do? She has a locket her father gave her—”

  “That,” I interrupted, “would be perfect.”

  “I’ll go get it now.” She rose swiftly and then hesitated. “You will search for her tonight, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” I said heavily. “I will.”

  “Good.” Marjorie spun and marched for the door, her steps far more determined and hopeful than they had been when she first arrived.

  The small bell chimed at her departure. I wearily rubbed my eyes. “I hope I’m not doing the wrong thing.”

  Belle leaned forward and placed her hand over mine. The strength that flowed from it infused my body with a sense of calm. “You can’t go back on your word now. That choice, as you’ve noted, left as soon as you allowed her entry.”

  “I know. I just—” I stopped and shrugged. “I was hoping I could stick to finding things that don’t matter. You know, car keys, jewelry, etcetera.”

  “Then we shouldn’t have used the ‘Coffee Served, Futures Told, and Things Found’ slogan when we opened this place.” Amusement touched Belle’s voice. “The truth of the matter is, you’re finally tired of running, and we both know it.”

  Yes, I was. But it wasn’t like I’d ever had much choice, and we both knew that, too.

  “Cat’s death was twelve years ago, Lizzie. Many things can change in that time—maybe even the attitude of your parents.”

  I snorted. “Yeah. And next year, the prime minister and his party will renounce its reliance on the council of advisors, and the three royal families of magic will suddenly find themselves out of favor.”

  Belle laughed. The sound was so warm and carefree it brought a smile to my lips.

  “That,” she said, “is something I’d love to see. Your father’s expression alone would be worth the chaos that would undoubtedly unfold.”

  “Yes, it would.” Hell, he considered it enough of an affront that he’d sired a daughter blessed with so little in the way of magic; the shock of being tossed out of power would probably kill him.

  Not that that was something I wanted, no matter how badly he’d treated Belle or me.

  I picked up a still warm biscuit and munched on it contemplatively. It didn’t do a lot to calm the growing sense of trepidation, but it tasted as delicious as it smelled and certainly made my stomach happy. And that was better than no happiness at all.

  The door chimed again as Marjorie returned. Either she lived close by, or she’d had something of Karen’s in the car, just in case. The older woman didn’t say anything, just sat down opposite me and held out her hand. In her palm sat a heart-shaped locket on a fine gold chain.

  I brushed the crumbs from my fingertips then reached out for—but didn’t quite touch—the locket. The last time I’d tried searching for someone rather than something, that person had died.

  I briefly closed my eyes and shoved the thought away. This situation was different—and if my psychometry did find Karen, Belle could call the rangers while I headed out. If Cat’s death had taught me anything, it was the fact that there were some situations neither magic nor psychic power could salvage.

  Heat began to burn across my fingertips, a sure sign that the connection between the locket and Karen was strong and active. Which meant, as of this moment, the teenager was still alive.

  But I wasn’t about to offer that hope to Marjorie. Not when hope could be killed as easily as a life taken.

  And I certainly didn’t want to examine the reason behind that particular thought.

  I took another of those deep breaths that didn’t do a whole lot to calm the butterflies. Then, before I could think about it too much more, I picked up the locket and pressed it into my palm.

  For several seconds, nothing happened. Then the locket began to burn against my skin, its heat initially clean and bright, but gradually becoming darker. I shuddered, suddenly uneasy.

  I’m here, Lizzie, Belle said. I’ll pull you back if need be.

  I knew that, but it didn’t stop the growing tide of reluctance. But I’d said I’d do this. I couldn’t back out now.

  Not allowing myself any more time to think—or fear—I closed my eyes again and reached down to that place deep inside where my second sight lay leashed and waiting.

  The minute I set it free, pictures flowed, but they were fragile things, little more than a reel of bright flickers. I let them slip by unheeded, waiting until I drew closer to a more recent memory before I slowed that reel down.

  And what I saw chilled me: a laptop, a chat room, an older man who made her laugh and who promised to help her escape her mother’s iron fist. A clock, chiming at midnight. Climbing through her window to meet the man with dark hair and darker eyes. Warmth and laughter and exploratory passion.

  The only thing that hinted at danger in those images was the fact that Karen was meeting a much older man, and that really wasn’t surprising if she was looking for someone to replace her father’s absence in her life. But there was no hint as to where she was now, and that meant I had to go deeper into her memories if I wanted any hope of uncovering that information.

  I’m here, Belle repeated,
her voice distant but filled with reassurance. I won’t let you get lost in there.

  I tightened my grip on the locket, pressing it more forcefully into my skin. But instead of growing stronger, the images momentarily fled and an oddly dark force rose to resist me. I fought on, determined to get into the more recent store of memories.

  Then, without warning, a connection formed and I was with Karen, seeing what she was seeing, feeling what she was feeling….

  …and oh God, it felt glorious. He touched her, caressed her, made her feel, burn, in a way that Jason never had.

  “Stroke me,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through every part of her.

  Karen glanced down. His erection seemed huge and oddly pale in the light of the campfire and fear momentarily filled her. She’d never taken this final step….

  He took her hand and placed it on his cock. “Be not afraid. It will never hurt you.”

  Karen swallowed her fear and let her fingers play up and down his skin. He was hot, hard, and somehow very different to Jason. But then, Jason was a boy, not a man like Tomme. When he groaned, a smile tugged her lips and she became bolder. He took off the rest of her clothes and touched her, teased her, and soon she couldn’t breathe, it felt so good. And when he finally thrust inside of her, it hurt, but he kissed away her pain and began to move, and an avalanche of unfamiliar but amazing sensations flooded her body.

  As his movements became faster, his lips returned to hers. He kissed her cheeks, her chin, her neck….

  Lizzie, a distant voice screamed. Pull the connection.

  His teeth scraped her neck, the sensation unpleasant. But before she could say anything, he kissed the sore spot and brushed his tongue across her ear. She moaned in pleasure. He chuckled softly and bit her again. This time, his teeth pierced her skin. Pain bloomed, and she tried to jerk away from him. But his left hand gripped the other side of her neck and held her motionless. She cried out, begging him to stop, but he didn’t. She struggled, hit him, doing all that she could in an effort to get out from under him, but he didn’t stop fucking her and he didn’t stop biting her, and there was warmth on her neck and she couldn’t breathe….

  Water—hot water—hit my face and the connection snapped. For several seconds, I didn’t move. Couldn’t move. My heart raced, my stomach turned, and my body burned with the echo of the teenager’s desire. And the warm water that dribbled down my neck felt an awful lot like blood….

  “Excuse me for a minute,” I muttered, and stood up so suddenly my chair crashed to the floor.

  I dropped the locket onto the table, then, without looking at Marjorie, turned and bolted for the bathroom. Once there, I lost everything I’d eaten over day.

  Belle followed me in. “How the hell did you form such an intimate connection? That’s never happened before.”

  “Not to that extent, no.” I took a deep, shuddery breath, then flushed the toilet and walked over to the hand basin. My reflection was flushed with heat and my irises wide with a mix of fear and desire, but my skin was paler than usual, and it made the smattering of golden freckles across my nose and cheeks stand out sharply. Never, ever, had I expected anything like that.

  I flicked on the cold tap, cupped my hands under the water, and splashed my face. And wished I could do the same to both my memories and the unwanted burn.

  “Is she dead?” Belle asked softly.

  I glanced past my reflection and met Belle’s silvery gaze. “You didn’t catch it?”

  “No. But there’s nothing unusual in that.”

  Because, as my familiar, it wasn’t her job to follow me down the rabbit hole, but rather to monitor me, ensuring my vital functions were not being so completely taxed by whatever I was seeing or doing that it could lead to my death. She was my security and my strength.

  I reached for a towel and patted my face dry. “She’s currently alive, but I don’t think she’s going to remain that way for long.”

  There’d been far too much blood running down her neck for life to continue on without swift intervention.

  “You can’t tell Marjorie that.”

  “No, but I can’t give her false hope, either.”

  Belle grimaced. “It’s a bitch of a situation. Maybe we should have said we couldn’t help her.”

  “More than likely.” But then a teenager would be out in there in that forest, all alone and without hope. At least if I tried to find her, there was the tiniest of chances that I could help her. Save her.

  Even if that inner part of me was saying otherwise.

  I took a deep, calming breath, then squeezed past Belle and headed back into the main café space.

  Marjorie’s expression was a mix of anxiety and fear. “Did you find my daughter? Is she okay?”

  I hesitated. “She’s in the woods somewhere. There was a campfire and a man.”

  “Who? A friend?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But she’s alive? She’s okay?”

  Again I hesitated. I certainly couldn’t tell the truth, but I couldn’t risk an outright lie, either. Not when the warm pulse of blood down my neck was still so fresh in my memory.

  “She was when I saw her. If you’ll lend me the locket, I’ll go out now and try to find her.”

  “Please, hurry.” Marjorie swept the locket off the table and held it out to me. “Because something is very wrong.”

  Yes, it was. I stared at the shining, dangling locket, and saw the shadows gathering around it. Those shadows were death. And for too many seconds, I simply couldn’t force my hand to grasp the damn thing.

  The minute I did—the minute it touched my skin—the images surged: lethargy, the sensation of floating, light, bright light, light that wasn’t calling her but rather pushing her toward the growing darkness….

  I clamped the leash on my abilities and ruthlessly shoved the images away. I didn’t have the time for the fear and questions they raised… and neither did Karen.

  “I need to go now, Mrs. Banks. Give me your phone number, and then go home.”

  “But I want to help—”

  “No,” I cut in. “You can’t. I’m sorry, but for this section of the search, anyone too close can interfere with my ability to find whatever—whoever—is missing.”

  Her expression suggested she wasn’t happy, but she pulled a business card from her purse and handed it to me. Marjorie Banks, it said, Attorney at Law.

  I shoved the card into my back pocket and tried not to think about the havoc a grieving lawyer could cause to the woman who failed to find her daughter alive.

  Even before Marjorie was out of the shop, we were gathering everything I needed: a first aid kit—which also included herbal remedies like yarrow and agrimony to stop both internal and external bleeding—a couple of potions to ward off evil, a knife made of silver, and finally, my warding stones. I had no idea who that man with Karen was, no idea whether he was just a human sicko or something else entirely, but I fully intended to be as fight-ready as I could.

  Even if the last time I’d gone running to the rescue similarly prepared had ended in utter disaster.

  “Better grab the flashlight,” Belle said, as I slung the backpack over my shoulder. “It’s as dark as Hades out in the scrub.”

  “A flashlight will warn that man of my presence way sooner than I might want. I’ll call a wisp if I’m having trouble seeing.” And at least calling a will-o’-the-wisp—or ghost candles, as they were more commonly known around these parts—to help me wasn’t beyond the range of my meager magic skills.

  “Be careful out there.” Belle hugged me briefly. “You dying will play utter havoc with my lifespan.”

  I smiled, despite the tension riding me. “You and I are destined to live very long lives.”

  “Says the woman who has never seen anything—good or bad—relating to us in her dreams.”

  “I don’t have to. Not when I’m hell-bent on remaining alive just so I can become the bane of my father’s existence
.”

  “He has to care that you’re actually alive for that to work.” She pushed me lightly to the door. “Go. I’ll ring the rangers and tell them what’s going on.”

  She would also, I knew, keep track of my whereabouts via our connection, and come running to the rescue if my own abilities were somehow overwhelmed. Although in this case, that might be too little, too late, given I’d be deep in the forest’s heart.

  I zipped up my jacket as I exited the café and headed up Lyttleton Street, the burn in the locket guiding my steps. All too soon I’d entered the thickly treed Kalimna Park, and the darkness grew heavier as the trees closed in around me. I followed the road for half a mile or so before the locket pulled me left, into the deeper darkness. My steps slowed, and then stopped. It was so damn black that I could barely see my hand when I stuck it in front of my face, let alone anything else. But the fear pounding through my veins had little to do with the thought of falling over and breaking a limb, but rather the darkness staining the locket. It had grown so heavy it was a dead weight in my hand. Death’s talons had reached the teenager, and that meant I only had a small window left. While it was possible to keep a soul from moving on if its body was still alive, not even my parents—who were not only witch royalty, but two of a only a handful of witches who were considered the most powerful in Australia—had the power to call a soul back once it had begun its journey. I had to hurry.

  But to go faster, I needed light.

  I quickly kicked off my shoes and socks, and then dug my toes into the dirt. It felt warm against my skin, and filled me with an odd sense of energy. That meant there was wild magic near, which was strange, given how close I still was to town. Usually it kept to the wilder places of the world.

  But I thrust concern aside, wriggled my toes a little deeper into the soil to ensure I was well grounded, and then began the summoning incantation. It wasn’t exactly a smart thing to do this close to wild magic, but I didn’t have time to go elsewhere—and neither did Karen.