Born in Fire (Page 37)

He leaned forward for his tea, his face once again closing down into a flat expression. The arousal must’ve been wearing away, thank God. I took my cup and waited patiently until Margaret sat down in the recliner across from me.

“I have a couple people coming over,” Margaret said, raising her chin as though she expected defiance.

“Fine.” I deposited my untasted tea on the table in front of me. “First things first: what did you take from that house?” I raised my finger. “You know that Darius is a vampire. He can tell if you’re lying.”

I had no idea if that was true, but I would know. I could read a liar from a mile away.

She took a sip of her tea, clearly trying to appear unaffected. It would’ve worked much better had she not kept darting her eyes to the archway into the room. “I don’t know what you mean…” Her hands were shaking.

I braced my elbows on my knees, studying her. The shaking got worse. She wasn’t just lying—she was afraid of admitting the truth. “Did you happen to catch me standing in your defensive spell?”

Her cup clattered as she put it on the tray. She didn’t respond.

“You worked that out with the neighborhood, right?” I intentionally used a badgering tone. Usually I would start with more of a friendly demeanor, trying to get the person to talk to see if anything useful slipped out. This time, though, I needed exact answers, and I needed them quickly. I’d throw my weight around to get the job done. If she hated me after—well, I didn’t have any friends anyway. No big deal.

Her lips tightened. She was trying to prevent herself from talking.

I stood and crossed to the mantelpiece. “Look, Margaret, I know something was taken from that mage’s house. Based on the spell your neighborhood cast at a tenth of the necessary power, I’d say it was a book of spells, or notes of some kind. Am I right?”

Her front door opened. I heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. Margaret straightened, finding some courage. A moment later, a man and a woman entered the room, both in their late fifties and dressed in yoga attire. The rings said they were both married, and the closeness of their bodies said it was to each other.

“Welcome,” I said, stepping forward with an outstretched hand, asserting my control over the room. I was the boss here. “I’m Reagan. You are?”

“Tamara Evans. This is Rodney.” She gestured at her husband, who wore a stern expression and followed it up with a stern handshake. He stepped a little behind her, a protective position signifying backup. He was the muscle. His wife was the talent.

“Hello. Please, have a seat.” I gestured them to the couch. Darius quickly moved to the window, giving me space. He was a good partner when he wanted to be. Thank God. “Would you like some tea?”

“Oh. Y-yes, please…” The woman, ruddy-faced and with light burns on her hands, looked at Margaret in confusion.

I cocked my head and closed my eyes for a moment, feeling residual magic. Also an echo of power. I’d never felt something quite like it. I couldn’t tell if it was from spell working within the neighborhood coven, or if the power was individual to one or both of them.

I lifted my eyebrows at Rodney, silently repeating myself.

“Sure,” he said in something like a grunt, playing Mr. Tough Guy.

He had no idea what a real Mr. Tough Guy sounded like, I could tell.

“Fantastic. Margaret, if you would?” I waited for her to start on the tea before continuing. “I was just asking Margaret what she took from the mage’s house.”

“She seems to think—”

“I just told them what I think,” I said to Margaret, planting myself on the other side of the coffee table, staring down at the newcomers. “You will note that I did not ask if you took something. I asked what it was. Oh! Forgive me my rudeness.” I shoved my hand through the air at Darius, careful to keep my movements coarse. “This is my vampire friend. He’s hungry. Being that we saw Roger, the alpha shifter, earlier, and he didn’t detain Darius, you can be comforted by the knowledge that we are authorized to conduct business in the Brink.”

Rodney swallowed, and his hand jerked toward his wife before he stilled it. He heard the threat loud and clear: We can and will kill you to get this information, and we’ll be operating within magical law.

Naive people under pressure were largely stupid creatures.

“What did you take?” I repeated.

“It was just a basic-level book of spells.” Tamara shrugged. “It wasn’t worth anything.”

“Just a book of spells?” I crossed my arms over my chest, studying her, noticing the tightness around her eyes and the thinning lips. Quarter-truths were the same as lying in these circumstances. “Get it. And before you do”—I put out a cautioning finger—“know that I am familiar with the defensive spell you cast as a collective. A few books have that spell, but none of them make it roll like that. So this book that you get should have some pretty high-level notes marking up the pages.”

Tamara’s spine went rigid and her expression set in defiance. She opened her mouth to refuse, but Darius turned into a blur that ended in her dangling from the air by her neck. She flailed. Her husband started, his eyes widening.

“Don’t make her ask again,” Darius said softly. The small hairs rose on my body.

“Hey!” Rodney shouted, struggling to get up. Margaret clutched her throat, a defensive reaction that wasn’t helping anyone.

“Don’t—” Tamara wheezed out of a constricted throat. Clearly he wasn’t cutting off all her air, somehow. “Don’t tell them.”

Rodney hesitated.

They must’ve known someone would come calling for the book, and they were prepared for that someone to use violence to drag the information out.

I sighed, because that would just make all this take longer.

Darius must’ve recognized it, too, because he changed tactics. “Thank you for this lovely meal.” He lowered her to the ground and opened his mouth, revealing his fangs.

“Don’t tell them!” Tamara said through clenched teeth.

They must’ve thought the book was only safe within their coven. Given the spell they’d tried, probably one of the few they could actually do with their power level, that book was a good find. Which made the one I’d taken a great find.

Why would they assume that a bunch of lower-powered witches could keep a book like that safe?

Like a flash of lightning, it hit me. “He was one of you, wasn’t he?” I snapped, walking toward the window to think. “He was at your power level, but he got hooked up with the more powerful mages, and they gave him a way to increase his power. Once he reached a certain level, he was allotted some learning material. I bet that book has sacrifices and possessions and…” I trailed off as confusion rolled across two faces. The third had a sort of dreamy look and a firm grip on Darius’s flexed biceps. He hadn’t even bitten her; he was just whispering into her ear while slowly stroking the skin over her vein with his thumb. The guy was good.

“So then, just higher-level spells, I gather?” I saw affirmation in their expressions. “You want to keep the book to prevent other people from gaining a bunch of power and turning into a whack job, like your former friend and neighbor did. I see.”

Darius pulled his head away from Tamara’s in order to glance at me. There was no hunger or arousal in his eyes; he was playing a strange sort of bad cop. Or a good cop on ecstasy. That worked, too.

“Trust me, it is way safer in my hands than it could ever be in yours,” I said. “I already have that much power. I won’t go crazy, trust me.”

“Don’t give in,” Tamara said, her hands now rubbing up and down Darius’s arms. He might’ve been applying a bit too much charm.

“I want that book.” I leaned against the wall. “He’ll bite her to get it.”

“Don’t give in,” Tamara said again, licking her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed as Darius ran his lips against her skin. Rodney shifted from side to side. His hands flexed and un-flexed. He did not like what was going on, but had no idea what to do.

“You guys didn’t prepare for this kind of torture, I’d bet,” I said, waiting patiently. This was way easier than busting heads and striking fear into their hearts. “Take notes, Rodney. All he’s using right now are words. Clearly you need to up your game in the bedroom. She’s probably bored out of her mind…”

Insulting his prowess did it. Rodney cracked. “He did go crazy,” he said in a thick voice, watching as his wife traced the hard chest of a vampire. “He got hooked up with that crew, forgot we even existed, and the next thing we knew, he was plaguing the neighborhood with heinous spells. He called them practice spells. He had to be taken out.”

“I get that. I took him out for you. You’re welcome. But Randy, I need that book.”

“It’s Rodney,” Darius said. He traced a fang down the vein in Tamara’s neck. She moaned and slid her hands over his shoulders, trying to pull him in.

Right! Rodney.

“This is getting awkward, Rodney. You should probably do something.” I waited, but he wasn’t breaking. “Might I remind you, Rodney, that Mr.…” Damn it! I couldn’t remember Darius’s last name. The name thing was a huge problem in my line of work. “That Mr. Darius is a vampire. If he bites her, he’ll change her into a vampire. She’ll die. And become a vampire. And then the shifters will kill you all.”