“Composition book?” he said, looking amused.

  “The pages don’t fall out and there are some things I don’t trust to the digital realm.” I laid it on the table below the scroll and read out loud. “The Shēngmìng zhī hé is the one. That one which is rekindling of life can emerge into two. Two conjoined can create three. From three, all of the ten thousands things may flourish. Anyway, that’s the middle part of the information. The rekindling is what I’ve been viewing as the bringing me back to life part.”

  “What does the rest say? Sometimes context is important.”

  I pointed at the first few right-hand lines. “Bai Su, your honorable servant, conveys important information on the subject of the valuable object created.” I tapped the word created. “The symbol rang can be translated as make, but I would have expected zuo to be used. Like -make me coffee as opposed to make me happy. Both are essentially a version of make but zuo is a generally for a physical object and the other is an influencing action. I haven’t figured out if the word choice actually has a connotation that that I’m not grasping.”

  “Did Bai Su make the box?” Fitz asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he made it himself or maybe he just knows the person who created it… which brings up the possibility it wasn’t a person.”

  “How could it not be a person? Do you mean a dragon made it?”

  “I don’t know. That sounds lame, doesn’t it? I suppose if Bai Su was the maker, he could have had help from a dragon or another nonhuman. Much as I dislike the idea, maybe I should contact Tikh. He’s an insufferable devious bastard, but he has his uses.”

  “Who’s Tikh?”

  “The actual question should be what is Tikh. His full name, or at least the name he’s officially known by is Aistikhbarat, which truthfully isn’t a name. It’s more of an egotistical title since it’s the Arabic word for intelligence. He’s an Ifrit.”

  “A genie?” Fitz raised an eyebrow.

  “Bleh. That’s such an Anglicized word. Think strong rebellious djinn. No three wishes crap. He trades in information and information items. If he’s in a good mood, he might give you a valuable piece of information, the whole piece. If he’s feeling superior and bitchy, he’ll give you the least useful and dramatically incomplete piece.”

  “And you’ve met him.”

  “A handful of times over the past hundred years.”

  Fitz pulled out a chair and sat down also. “Every time you say that I feel like I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole.”

  “Ah, I wonder if that makes me or Dama the Red Queen.”

  “Who’s Dama?”

  “Damayanti, last name changeable on a whim. She’s a vampire.”

  He leaned forward and clonked his forehead lightly on the table. “I am so out of my depth.” He sat up straight again and crossed his arms. “Keep going. Is there anything else before it gets to the Shengming part?”

  “No. The last few lines are – The blood of life renewed continues forward when cast within the Shēngmìng zhī hé. Seasons become as days and the flame is rekindled again. Only a return to embrace will cease the wheel.”

  Fitz tilted his head and gazed at the painting on the bottom of the scroll. “The picture does look very similar to the box I have.” He laced his fingers together and propped his chin on them, elbows on the table.

  “Granted I was operating on memory, but that was part of why I was willing to buy the scroll.”

  He gave me a long appraising look. “What do I do now? Sell you the box and hope like hell the person or persons that broke into my apartment and attacked us just give up?”

  I blew out a breath. “I’m not sure how likely it is for Byakhee Cabal to give up.”

  “Does it depend on whether the guy from last night is… dead?”

  “Maybe. But dead bodies aren’t a particular deterrent when the Cabal is fixated on something,” I said.

  “I can’t hide in your apartment forever. I have a job, and a research project… which seems completely ridiculous considering what I’ve seen recently.”

  “Magick is either something you grow up with, or something you have your nose rubbed in at a completely unexpected moment in your life. Back to the Cabal, I do think we’ve given them enough push back that they’ll take a few days before trying again. Or at least that’s my best assessment.”

  “So back to business as usual?” he asked.

  “I’m thinking. And I need more coffee.” I grimaced as I got up and went back toward the kitchen. We ended up sitting on the sofa. Fitz pulled me into the vee of his legs, wrapping his arms gently around me as I drank my coffee. He traced his thumb down my arm.

  “Are you sure you’re healing? There was an awful lot of blood.”

  “It’s getting there. Grab a trash bag out from under the kitchen sink. My shirt and your sweatshirt are a lost cause. I’ll buy you another one. Now would be a good time for a shower.”

  He helped me stand up. I headed toward the bathroom, and he came in a minute later with the trash bag. He deposited all the clothing that had been soaked in blood into the bag. Looking in the mirror, I peeled the bandaging away from the injury. The gash was an angry red line under the staples. I pressed a finger along the seam. The pain was moderate but not agony.

  I realized Fitz was standing behind me, eyes taking in the full glory of my artwork. Yeah, I had showed it to him before but that had been fairly brief. “Turn on the water,” I said. “And you might want to take off your jeans.”

  He flushed in embarrassment and turned on the water. Shucking his jeans took a little longer. Now it was my turn to admire the art. I’d seen bits and pieces, but the bulk and definition of his musculature was worthy of Greek statuary. I reached out a hand and rubbed it down over his chest, along his ribs, stopping at the top of his hip. With one finger, I traced the sharp angle of the bone, then continued on down to his cock, all the way to the tip. His breath hitched and I could see the beginnings of arousal.

  I stepped into the shower, flinching as the hot water flowed over the half-healed gash. There was still dried blood on my body and the water streaked with pink and brown as it washed away.

  Fitz picked up the bottle of body wash and poured some into his hand.

  I stood there, one hand on the wall to steady myself and let him soap me. The sensation of his hands sliding across my skin was divine.

  “Turn,” he said, spinning me to face him. Slippery caresses touched my breasts and sides and hips. He paused as his fingers neared the row of staples.

  “If you do anything that hurts me, I’ll let you know,” I reassured him.

  He looked at me with a solemn expression then dipped his head and kissed me. In the steamy warmth we pressed against each other, skin on skin. I could feel the stiff poke of his cock along my pubic hair. I reach down and stroked him. He made a low groan of pleasure. “Let me wash you,” I said. He nodded.

  I began my own soapy exploration of his body, my fingertips swirling through chest hair. He definitely had a bit of the “bear” thing going on, heavy musculature and lots of body hair. Fine by me. I traced along biceps and triceps and on down. He squirmed as I ran a finger along his butt crack. Mmm, yeah two handfuls of powerful glutes. He chuckled as I squeezed his butt cheeks with both hands.

  We got as far as partially rinsed off when he pressed me back against the tile, his body holding me in place.

  “I want you,” he murmured.

  My brain was enthusiastically interested, but the pressure of his weight against me brought the ache of the half-healed gash back into the front of my attention. “I think we’re done with the shower part.”

  Chapter 14

  Fitz

  We were only about half dried when Sophie took the towel from me and pushed me in the direction of the bedroom. She stretched out on the bed, and I lay down beside her, wrapping my arms around her. She was a fabulous mix of sleek muscle and generous curves. I kissed her deeply and could taste the coffee we’d been drinking. Her tongue dueled with mine. I cupped one of her breasts in my hand, teasing at the nipple as it tightened. I dropped my head to that nipple and ran my tongue across it.

  Her breath hitched and she grabbed my hand, placing it between her legs. Stroking a couple of fingers along her folds, I could feel the slick wetness of her arousal. I wanted to be inside her and moved my leg between her thighs, starting to place myself in a better position. She made a whimpering squeak that was not about pleasure. “Sophie?”

  “I think… I need to be on top. Sorry, that … hurt.” Her voice was breathy but also more tense than it should have been.

  I felt like an ass. I eased back down beside her. “Don’t be sorry. Maybe we should wait.”

  “No. I’m into this. I just need to not have your body weight on the wound.” She sat up and pushed my shoulder to roll me back on my back.

  Maybe the break in what we were doing was a good thing, because I had totally forgotten about protection. “Do you have condoms? I should’ve asked. That was stupid and risky.”

  She gave me a wry smile. “There is nothing you could possibly give me, or me give you. There are perks to immortality, beyond the obvious.”

  The way she said it had an odd sad under-note to it, I thought. I decided that it must imply she had lost people she cared for. I curled my hand against her face and rubbed my thumb on her cheek bone. “Okay, I just… I’m not usually careless.”

  “No, you aren’t,” she said. She twisted around to straddle my thighs and spread herself on top of me. We kissed and petted for several minutes. My dick was trapped between our bodies and her movements were driving me closer toward what would be an embarrassing misfire. I carefully pulled her higher on my body, allowing her knees to fall on either side of my hips.

  Sophie sat back, reaching between us, closing her hand around my prick, and guided it to her entrance. She rose up higher on her knees and sank down slowly. The tight wet heat stole coherent thought from me. Leaning forward, she kissed me and then straightened up again. Her head tipped back, eyes closed for a moment, and then she rocked her hips up a little.

  I put the soles of my feet flat on the bed and lifted my body to meet hers. In another minute we had a rhythm. I could feel the pleasure building in my body and gripped her hip with one hand and palmed her breasts with my other. She moved the hand on her hip lower to angle my thumb against her clit. She bit her lower lip, face contorting as she rode me harder. I tried to give her as much friction with my thumb as possible. I was so close.

  Sophie made a small moan, and I felt her body spasming with her climax around me. I stopped fighting my own and came hard within her, waves of the ecstasy washing through me. She sank down to lay across my chest. We were both breathing hard.

  ~

  I must have drifted off for at least a minute because the light nip of teeth along my jaw popped my eyes open.

  Sophie stretched and slid off of me, reaching to grab her cell phone from the nightstand. She tapped the screen and made snort of amusement. “Either she’s incredibly bored or something happened.”

  “Who? What?” I sat up.

  “Dama’s in the hallway. Put some clothes on.” She texted something and then got off the bed and yanked a bathrobe off the back of the bedroom door and put it on. She left the bedroom and went in the direction of the apartment door.

  I ducked into the bathroom long enough to grab a damp towel and wipe off before putting my jeans back on. My brain must have still been in the bliss zone because it took me another minute before the name she had mentioned registered. Dama? As in the Dama who Sophie claimed was a vampire?

  Walking out into the den, I saw a slender woman in a navy-blue business suit and a deep purple blouse. A wide brimmed hat, sunglasses, and a long coat lay draped over one of the kitchen bar stools. She appeared to be of either Middle Eastern or Indian ethnicity. She turned slightly to look at me, and her eyes raked over me in a way that made me wonder if I should have put on my shirt.

  “He smells like you,” she said to Sophie.

  Sophie smirked. “With good reason. Give me a couple of minutes to put actual clothes on.” She started toward the bedroom and paused glancing back at the woman. “No tasting.”

  “Very well,” the woman consented.

  As Sophie left the room, the woman looked me over again. “I’m Damayanti, an old friend of …Sophie’s.”

  I noticed the hesitation and wondered if there was a reason behind it.

  “Marcus Fitzgerald,” I replied.

  “She’s spoken of you.”

  “Um, okay.” I wasn’t sure if that was good or not.

  Dama sat on the upholstered chair in the den. She moved with an almost surreal level of grace. Was that a characteristic of a vampire? I still wasn’t sure if I believed what Sophie had said.

  Sophie returned, wearing jeans and t-shirt.

  “You, smell of blood,” Dama said.

  Sophie snorted slightly in what sounded like amusement. “We had a run in with a guy wearing one of the Byakhee rings last night.” She lifted her shirt and displayed the row of staples for a moment.

  Dama licked her upper lip and I swear I thought I caught a glimpse of an abnormally long canine tooth. “Interesting.”

  Sophie sat on the sofa and beckoned for me to come sit beside her. “I thought you were catching a plane to elsewhere last night.”

  “I had intended to, but information came my way.”

  “Regarding the rus gyan?” Sophie asked.

  “No,” Dama replied. She met Sophie’s gaze. “Another bidder at the auction mentioned the Cabal was interested in Djual Kuhl’s current location.”

  “Yee-fucking-hah,” Sophie muttered. “What does someone want with that psychotic dickwad? Is Kuhl in the U.S.? Do they realize he only takes payment in lives for whatever the hell he agrees to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Dama said. “On all those questions, unfortunately.”

  “Who is the Kuhl person? Assassin for hire?” I asked, having grasped the implications Kuhl was dangerously perhaps deadly.

  Sophie stretched her feet out in front of her and stared at her toes. “Djual Kuhl is… I don’t even have a good way to describe him. He’s a ceremonial magician. Not the pull a quarter out of your ear type, more along the lines of sacrifice you to an elder god and turn your friends into newts. Supposedly he was once fully human. I do know he is the darkest evil I’ve ever personally encountered.”

  “He’s capable of draining the life force from a human and adding it to his own, effectively extending his own existence,” Dama said.

  “Of course, in order for him harness and use the energy, his victim has to actually die.” Sophie crossed her arms.

  “Which since you can’t…” I began, trying to process the ideas.

  “He tried really hard, but yeah, ultimately, I fucked him up pretty well for at least a period of time and walked away. He did manage to get a sliver of information from me, that I had started out mortal until a magick bracelet changed me.” Sophie’s voice was flat.

  I took her hand in mine. “By tried really hard, do you mean tortured?”

  It was Dama who answered. “I would consider that something of an understatement.”

  The thought sent a cold chill through me. “So this guy is immortal also and knows how you got this way. Does he know I have the box? Is he part of the Cabal?”

  “He’s not part of the Byakhee Cabal,” Dama stated. “He has indulged in occasional contracts and alliances over the years but in general has only been focused on his own agendas.”

  “The box wouldn’t do him any good, would it?” I asked.

  Sophie wrinkled her nose and looked from me to Dama. “It doesn’t seem likely, but who the hell knows. Has Kuhl actually shown his face anywhere in the past twenty years anyway? It would probably be too much to hope for that he’d die.”

  “I’ve heard nothing to imply he’s deceased, but I’ve also heard little but the occasional rumor for quite a while. I did think you should be made aware of the information, given past events,” Dama said. She glanced at her watch. “I need to leave soon. The flight departs in three hours for Chicago.”

  “Thank you,” Sophie replied. “While you’re here, since we’ve been speculating on the functionality of the box, I’d like you to take a look at the scroll, since you’ve never actually seen it.” She stood up and walked toward the door that led to the rest of the top floor.

  I followed along behind them.

  Chapter 15

  Sophie

  I hadn’t put the scroll or my translation away. They were still on the table. Dama braced both hands on the table, on either side of the scroll and spent several minutes examining the item. Then she turned her attention to my open composition book.

  “Have you ever managed to identify Bai’s Su lineage or position?” she asked.

  “No. I even spent a few months in Beijing at the National Library trying to hunt down references.”

  She tapped a line of my translation. “I do see an error. Here where you wrote - Only a return to embrace will cease the wheel. The word isn’t embrace. It’s container, or that which holds, but not like holding a person, holding as in a cup holds tea.”

  “Okay… I’m not sure how that affects the sentence, or the implication, but it’ll give me something to consider.”

  “I must go.” Dama said, and we all trooped back into the den. She gathered up her coat, hat and sunglasses and put them on.

  As she headed for the door, I asked, “After Chicago, are you leaving the country then?

  She tipped her glasses down for a moment to gaze at me. “Uncertain. It depends on how things unfold while I’m there. I will contact you.” And then she left.

  Fitz stood looking at the now closed door. “She’s really a vampire?”

  “Yes. You were expecting something was more Nosferatu?”

  “I… don’t know what I was expecting.” He sat down and began to put on his sneakers. “I have office hours in the morning and a class to teach.”

 

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