Blood and magic, p.22
Blood and Magic, page 22
“Holly,” she murmured.
“What does that mean?” Vanessa asked.
Rowan briefly explained the various prophetic dreams and knowings she’d been having. Including the most recent that had featured greenery she now realized was holly.
“That’s the address you and Genevieve went to. In Long Beach,” Vanessa said.
Well, fuck.
Rowan pulled out her phone and looked up the time for sunset. “I need this data with filters for some words. Is that possible?”
Vanessa rolled her eyes and then pushed her berry-red eyeglasses up her nose. “What words?”
Rowan thought for a moment. “Holly, sparrow, bird, storm, ocean, ships. Too generic?”
“I think we can do it. It’s a wide net, but how many of these addresses could have any of those terms? It should be relatively easy once we have a filtered batch of data to cull what isn’t useful. Then we have a small enough sample that it might give us a direction.”
“Great. That will be a big help. Even if we can’t figure out who it is from the results, we’ll know who it likely isn’t. That’s an answer too.”
Vanessa turned to Rowan. “You’ve brought me to the field more than once and it teaches me new things each time. No one before you has given me that trust. And I know this might sound weird—I don’t want to make you sad—but it feels very much like Carey has been here too, keeping an eye on me.”
It was hard. Letting them out into the field meant they’d be exposed to danger. The kind of danger that had caught up to Carey and murdered him.
Carey had been hers. One of the first friends she’d made within Hunter Corp. He’d been killed for that loyalty. In all the rest of her days, when she looked for him, he would not be there. He would not come back. There would never be another moment in his company and that was still a hard realization.
It hurt. Grief wasn’t new to Rowan’s life. Her parents, both long dead, were simply the beginning of the losses she’d come to endure over and over. She hated it. No matter how many times she told herself grief was the price one paid for love, it still yawned in her belly. So big and dark it was one of the few things that truly scared her.
Because there were others whose loss she could not imagine surviving. David. So human and fragile compared with those creatures out to harm. The son of her heart.
Clive. The unexpected other half of her. The one being in all the universe who saw her so clearly and...celebrated all the things others had sought to punish her for. He celebrated her strength. Her darkness and her sharp edges. Was proud of them. To be seen by him so well and loved because of it was a miracle she wasn’t sure she’d ever understand.
But she’d accept it nonetheless because by that point, she simply never wanted a life without her vexing Vampire. And because being understood and known was a beautiful gift she’d never felt worthy of, but she’d never give up.
“Can you do a more thorough search of that address? I know we’ve been looking at the people who went missing, but more details, if possible, would be good. On their jobs. Friends. There’s a connection. The more information I have, the easier it will be to figure it out.”
“I have every confidence you will. These missing people are fortunate that it is you who seeks them,” Vanessa said quietly.
Rowan told herself it didn’t matter that Vanessa had such false confidence. People died around her for goddess’ sake!
But that was a lie. It mattered. Their confidence in her, even when she fucked up right and left, was a gift, and she was too weak not to take the solace that trust offered.
“I’ve gotten the new filters applied. Give me some time.”
“I have every confidence you too will prevail,” Rowan said, echoing Vanessa.
She stood, taking the folder Vanessa had prepared.
“I’ll keep you apprised,” Vanessa said as Rowan got to the doorway.
“Appreciate it.”
* * *
Darius felt the pulse of magic as it echoed toward where he stood in Genevieve’s office, looking out over the mountains just beyond.
The sun was tumbling from the sky. Darkness was already rising. The city changed so much in this moment, as day slid away, and the night took her place like a queen.
Gone were the hikers and other adventurers. They’d headed back to hotels and condos to shower and reemerge dressed for fine dining. For dancing and flirting. For gambling of all types. So many risks being taken.
He breathed in deep. The flavor of the magic, of the life energy that was essential to his and the rest of the Trick’s existence, had changed as well. Anticipation spiced it now. Longing. They’d start to flow from their rooms and into the night to play and sin and provide a feast with their emotions.
Darius had been thinking that the fading light changed her too. His brilliant witch whose power was a beacon in the darkness. In the night her magic was velvet and sensual. Her light was still a beacon but there were shafts of reds, golds, blues, and bronze in her. As if her power were reflected through stained glass.
And then the pulse heading toward them.
Darius spun to her, their gazes locking. She stood and held out a hand. “No. Let it come. It’s mine.”
He eased that shield back and he knew she’d been telling the truth as that magic flowed through him and he tasted her on every single nerve ending.
His attention locked on her, she tipped her head back with a sigh as the spell swirled around her and then seemed to settle over her skin before sinking inside.
He’d never been more aroused.
She glowed with energy. With the power she was born to. And...the power they’d brought her when she’d become their priestess.
He saw it in her. In those shafts of light. Devil magic had twined with her own. It coursed through her, utterly part of Genevieve. It was a punch. That realization that such an important part of what he was lived in her.
Satisfaction followed. He’d marked her. Deeply and irrevocably. He might have felt guilty over it. If she was someone else perhaps. But she wasn’t naive or innocent. She knew what he was and she’d accepted every part with open arms and a curious, eager mind.
Nothing else would have shattered the walls he’d erected around himself for millennia.
He was in love with Genevieve Aubert.
As he thought it, her eyes opened, her attention seeking him until she found him in a breath. “I set a warning spell at that house in Long Beach. With the missing witches. Someone is there.”
“Let’s go tell Rowan,” he said.
Chapter Twenty
Clive woke and automatically he reached for their bond. Assuring himself Rowan was alive and well.
There she was, practically shining with her power. Not just alive, but thriving. Despite all the attacks, all the setbacks.
He showered and changed into a suit, but before he’d even made it to the living room, Rowan called.
“Hello, Hunter,” he replied as he answered.
“Evening, Scion. Want to take another trip to the Southland tonight?”
“What’s going on?”
She told him about the street address of the house in Long Beach she and Genevieve had been at just two weeks prior and that she felt it was connected to her dream.
And then she said, “Genevieve set some sort of trap spell at the house. So that if anyone entered, it would be triggered. And it just was, about five minutes ago.”
Relief that she’d waited until he could be given the choice to accompany her or not rushed through him. Leaving him pleased and stupidly in love with his wife.
“I’ll have the Nation jet readied and meet you on the tarmac. Give me fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you,” she told him softly.
As if he’d be anywhere else?
He called Alice as he headed toward the kitchen, giving her instructions on what he needed done. On his way to meet them, Clive paused to feed. If Rowan asked, he’d be able to assure her he’d taken care of himself.
They’d both discovered it was important to trust the other was doing all they could to not only live but thrive in that life. His prickly wife did not like it one bit when she thought he wasn’t feeding regularly or resting well. And Clive found her interest in his well-being the most intensely pleasurable thing in his existence.
He’d never imagined having a soft place within the fortress she’d build around herself. Instead, she’d given him a key.
The plane was being readied as his car approached. Alice waited at the base of the steps.
“She’s inside already. There’s a dossier at your seat you will want to look at as well. Ah.” Alice raised a hand, waving at the car approaching with Patience at the wheel. “Dinner for everyone. I’ll handle that part. Go on inside. I’ll accompany you to provide overwatch.”
Alice said it in a tone that brooked zero argument, so Clive nodded his thanks and headed to his wife.
That evening she wore slim-fitting black pants with several pockets and weapons loops, and a long-sleeved shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a fighting queue, leaving the lines of her face exposed to his hungry gaze. “Dressed for a fight I see,” he told her in a murmur as he settled at her side and then leaned to brush a kiss against her temple.
That she not only allowed it, but leaned into his touch, was victory. He’d try not to crow about it. Out loud in any case.
She caught his satisfied smirk and sent him a raised brow. “And you’re not wearing a suit. Slightly disappointing. You’re so very handsome in them. Still, a treat as your own tactical gear fits you like a second skin.”
“I too, am dressed for a fight.” Once she’d called, he’d swapped out his business attire for an outfit similar to hers. “Tonight, I won’t be staying in the car.”
She opened her mouth to argue but he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. He interrupted.
“I have a dossier here.” He flipped open the top tab of the envelope and peeked inside. “Ooh. Photographs and secret Nation intelligence. I’m willing to share for a price.”
“Like me saving Vampire butts?”
He chuckled, nodding to Alice as she climbed up the steps and into the plane.
“Prepare for takeoff, Scion,” Alice said before finding her seat.
Clive told Rowan, “You’re in a Nation jet for that. No, darling Hunter, my price is my presence at your side.” He could protect her better that way, and he had a very strong feeling it might be necessary. Even if it wasn’t, being prepared for the possibility pleased him far more than the alternative. “Think of all the deliciously secret things I might see.”
Her annoyance faded with a snicker. “Fine. Did you eat?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. And, as a delightful bonus of my presence, dinner for you all has been brought as well. My chef sends his affection. I ought to behead him for the crush he has on you,” he grumbled, but mainly to rile her up.
“But then who would make me miso butterfish?”
“That is my quandary.”
“That, and his crush is unrequited. I’ve got my own sweetheart, and he doesn’t share,” she told him in a voice only he would hear.
“Gimme,” she said after she finished her dinner and the attendant whisked away their dishes.
He handed the file over. “I haven’t even looked yet.”
“I also have a call log from the various phones and data cards we found at the Procella mansion. Vanessa shoved them at me as we left the office,” Rowan said as she opened up a file of her own. “Another set of eyes is a good thing.” She handed over a few pages each. David began to highlight and identify the numbers as they made their way toward their destination.
About twenty minutes later, the picture was beginning to form.
* * *
Rowan scanned the page that held the key David had made before she took one last look. She didn’t want to say anything until she had.
“Lots of calls back and forth to Fiona’s work and private number. About half that with Gerald. She did say she was the main contact so that tracks to a point. Loads with various Sansburys. Joseph, Rosemary, and Tristan. The Salazars are counted here, but in lesser numbers than the others. We don’t have all the data culled yet, so there might be more to be found. Or he called them on a different phone. Or they only used carrier pigeon. Whatever. People are sneaky as fuck when they are up to crime.” She looked over to Genevieve. “We know who Tristan is. Who is Rosemary?”
“Rose is Tristan’s sister. She’s...if you think Bess is cold, Rose makes her look like Mother Goose. Tristan took the Senate seat and Rosemary worked with their father running their businesses in Europe. This data says she lives here in the United States and is working with her uncle.”
“What are their European businesses?”
“I looked it all up recently,” Genevieve said. “Wanted to be sure as it’s been a hundred years since I’ve been part of their family. They run housecleaning services all across Europe as well as a chain of self-service laundry shops.”
Rowan sat back in her chair and thought a while.
What she had for certain was a sense that this was all tied together. It bore out through each bit of evidence they found. What she didn’t know was exactly what was up. It had to be bad, or they wouldn’t be willing to blow one another up over it.
“Well, we know they’re connected. All these calls and their own words confirm it. We know it was their magic on that bomb at the Procellas’. So whatever it was they were up to, it was worth killing over. And killing is a pain in the ass. Once you do it you have so much hiding to deal with. Body disposal. Crime scene cleanup. Avoiding the authorities. It’s a whole thing. That’s why they hired the wolves, right?”
Genevieve blew out a breath. “Point taken. I agree. They don’t know I’ve identified their signatures from the scene of the mage firebomb. But they do know I’m aware it was magical and not some sort of chemical used by humans.”
“Excellent.” They’d start to panic. Even longtime criminals who were good at hiding their behavior tended to make mistakes when they panicked.
There were two armored SUVs waiting for them when they landed and behind that, a line of motorcycles.
Rowan looked over to Genevieve, who appeared to be as surprised as Rowan was.
Darius had been on the plane with them and there was no way they could have driven from Vegas to Burbank in the time it took to fly there. And yet, six Devils sat on big throaty motorcycles, waiting patiently.
“Well, then. This is a surprise.” Rowan said nothing further. They’d traveled in a Nation jet. One of the SUVs was driven by Pru and the other had Genevieve’s second-in-command, Zara, at the wheel. It was already a multi-organization operation so why not add some chaos demigods to the mix?
Darius stalked over and had a chat with Marco before returning to them. “They’ll follow and watch. Nothing will sneak up on us.” He opened the rear door of one of the SUVs. “My lady.”
Genevieve started to speak but closed her mouth and said over her shoulder to Rowan, “See you at the house. Don’t go in without me. I mean it. I’ve set trap spells.”
“Okay. See you in a bit.”
David climbed in the front with Pru and Alice sat in the back with Rowan and Clive.
“We looked through a stack of photographs earlier today. Stuff we took from Elmer. There were some from the 1970s that had me rolling. Please tell me there are some of you in a velvet suit and platform shoes.”
His look of horror made her day.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you.”
“Only as it regards platform shoes and a velvet suit,” Alice said. “I can confirm he did wear wide bell bottoms and had sideburns.”
Rowan guffawed. “Pictures?”
“Most likely. I’ll have a peek for you,” Alice said, and Clive groaned.
“There’s a painting in my in-laws’ home of Clive with his father. 1740. He’s wearing the most incredible brocade vest. And hose and shoes with a heel.”
“I do not miss wearing hose. Or tricorn hats,” Clive muttered.
“You have really nice legs though. However, I prefer the one in my bedchamber.”
Clive’s mother had sent it to Rowan as a gift. In it, Clive is wearing buckskin breeches and top boots. A white linen shirt with a perfectly folded cravat under a navy blue cutaway tailcoat completed the look. He looked like the prince he was. Sexy. Saucy. Supremely convinced of his worth.
“I bet you he sullied ladies all across the ton back in those days,” Rowan teased but he shrugged with a smile. “No lie, I’d have let him back me into a darkened garden or take all the dances on my dance card,” Rowan said and while it was a tease, it was also true. Even if he probably wouldn’t have looked twice at Rowan at that point in his life.
“Darling, I’d have snatched you right up. Every waltz and quadrille. You were made for candlelight.”
She was glad it was dark so no one could see her blush.
“Though I will tell you how many layers of clothing women had to wear back then. So many buttons and skirts and underthings. Rather makes a quick assignation difficult.”
“Not impossible though.”
His chuckle was a caress. “Never impossible when one has the determination.”
He took her hand and squeezed it before bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. She would have let him ruin her in a carriage or whatever the fuck it was that happened back then.
Still, thank goodness for modernity when it came to access for those quick assignations her rakish spouse liked because he knew how to get himself inside her right quick.
“On the way back, there’s a stack of photos I want you to look at,” she said as they got off the freeway and took surface streets to get to the house. “I recognize some of the Vampires, but others, you’ll know more than I would.”
