Blue-Blooded Vamp (Page 8)

“Me too,” he whispered. “But we’re together now.”

I kept my face on his chest, not able to look him in the eye. “But what if—”

“Shhh,” he said. “Look, we’ve got issues. We both know that. And guaranteed we’ll fight again. But all we can do is make sure we’re honest with each other from here out.” He pulled back and made me look up at him. “Right?”

I swallowed. It had been my own lack of honesty that had forced our issues to the surface. But I’d learned my lesson in spades. “Right.”

“Good.” He planted a quick kiss on my lips. “You know what?”

I smiled up into his handsome face. “What?”

“There is a silver lining to fighting every now and then.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Makeup sex.”

I pursed my lips like I was debating the merits of him claim. “Speaking of, we never—”

Crash!

Adam ignored the sound and pulled me closer. “You were saying?”

“I was saying that we never—”

Bang, bang, bang!

Adam put his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. “I don’t suppose we can just ignore that?”

I laughed and patted his cheek. “Right, because how much trouble can a Mischief demon and a Changeling drag queen get into?”

“Shit,” he breathed. “All right, but remember what you were about to say because I’m planning on having a very long, slow, deep discussion about it later.”

“Ouch!” The high-pitched yelp was followed by the kind of shushing sound that accompanied covert shenanigans.

“It’s a deal,” I said to Adam. “Now let’s go make sure those two aren’t about to blow up the joint.”

A few moments later, we pushed open the door to Zen’s workroom. The demon and the Changeling had their heads together like conspirators. When we walked in they both shot up and their expressions instantly turned guilty.

Adam crossed his arms. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Brooks squeaked.

I narrowed my eyes at the seven-foot-tall demon, who would not look at me. “Giguhl?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Don’t make me make it a command,” I warned. Since the demon was my minion, I could force him to tell me anything or do anything if I made it a direct order. But I tried not to abuse that power since he was also my friend.

The demon’s massive shoulders slumped and he shot an apologetic look at Brooks. “We’re making a voodoo doll of Cain.”

“What?” Adam asked. He shot toward the table to inspect their work. “How far are you into the ritual?” he demanded, all business.

“We were putting finishing touches on his ensemble.” As he spoke, Brooks used glue to attach rhinestones to Cain’s jacket. They’d also hot-glued red yarn to the doll’s head and used two green sequins for the eyes. Apparently, the Changeling believed the mastermind behind all our suffering looked a lot like vampire Elvis, the later years.

Zen walked in and froze when she saw the guilty expressions. “What’s going on?” Her tone was part suspicious and part terrified of finding out what had us all tense.

“Um,” Brooks said, cringing, “Giguhl and I were sort of makingavoodoodoll.”

Zen looked at him with laserlike intensity. “Holy Loa, what in the world were you thinking, child? Please tell me you haven’t used the goofer dust yet.”

Giguhl nudged a small vial with his claw. “You mean this?”

Brooks groaned in a way that told me he’d been hoping to hide that part from Zen.

“We haven’t used it yet,” he rushed to add.

Zen rounded on her assistant. “You know I don’t allow red magic on my property. Besides, you’re not fully trained in the voodoo arts.”

The fae crossed his arms. “I’ve helped you make dolls lots of times. Besides, it’s not really red magic.”

“Well, it sure as hell ain’t white magic.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Evil intentions aren’t something you do for the heck of it. You know that. The Law of Three won’t listen to excuses. I don’t want that kind of karma.”

“Don’t worry,” Giguhl said. “Brooks said he figured out how to avoid the Law of Three altogether.”

Zen frowned and pulled back to get a good look at her assistant. “How?”

Brooks took a deep breath and prepared to make his case. “I’m doing a banishment and equalizer spell,” he began. “I figured if we ask Ogun to intercede on our behalf, then the Law of Three wouldn’t apply.”

I held up a hand. “Can someone translate that for the voodoo challenged?”

Zen sighed. “It’s a spell that asks the holy one to protect you and also punish one who’s done you wrong. The Law of Three dictates that whatever magical energy you put out into the universe will return threefold. Thus, if you curse someone, you’re inviting three times bad karma to your door. But in this case, Brooks is invoking the warrior god Ogun to do the dirty work so he won’t experience any bad karma after.”

“And what’s gopher dust, exactly?” I asked.

“Goofer dust, Sabina,” Adam corrected.

Ever since our brief stint in New Orleans, Adam had started a casual study of basic voodoo in his spare time. His interest was merely academic, though. To a mage with inherent magic, the human practices were merely a curiosity.

I nodded impatiently. “Okay, what’s goofer dust?”

“It’s used in spells meant to cause suffering. There’s lots of stuff in it, but the two main ingredients are snake skin and graveyard dirt.”

“Sounds like a Chthonic spell,” I said, referring to my own magical specialty.

In mage terms, Chthonic magic dealt with primordial powers like sex and death. Powers that were strongest in deathy places, like graveyards. In addition, snakes were powerful Chthonic symbols.

“Similar.” Zen nodded. “Brooks is basically asking a god to use death magic on Cain.”

“Awesome, right?” Giguhl said.

I sighed. “Guys, I appreciate your support, but Cain is my problem.”

Giguhl pursed his lips. “Correction: Cain is our problem. All of us.”

I grimaced. He was right, of course. Especially since, as my minion, he kind of had to go to Italy since that’s where I was headed.