My Storm Sprite (My Supernatural Boyfriend Book 2) Page 13

  “Sometimes they have vampires impregnate her when they can’t find a demon,” Isac says, “but that results in a loss of power, and they die.”

  “How do they make the demons and vampires do it willingly?”

  “Compulsion.”

  “Should have guessed,” I say. Thandoran grunts. I know how he feels about compulsion.

  We’re silent for a few minutes, in which Thandoran stands too close, in which my insides jump at his proximity.

  Finally, Isac speaks. “If you don’t mind, I shall prepare your counter curse once the vampires are taken care of. They would sense the magic otherwise.”

  “Counter curse?” I don’t like that idea. I want the curse gone for good. Counter curse makes it sound as if he’s just masking the original spell.

  “A counter curse will negate any effects of the original curse.”

  “You’re sure?” I ask.

  “Positive.”

  “What do I have to lose? If you die in our escape attempt, the curse will go away anyway.”

  Isac smiles. “I knew you’d understand. There is one thing. Should you be taken by force, they will compel me to imprison you, much as they have Kaelea. I will do it if it means protecting her.”

  “Isac, I expect you to do nothing but hold her safety above all others,” I say.

  “That you can be sure of.”

  “Do the vampires plan to use me the same way they use Kaelea?” I shudder. There’s no way that’s happening.

  “That, but they also want your amulet to restore the vampire’s powers after they mate with storm sprites, and they need your blood to power the amulet.”

  So they plan to keep me alive indefinitely. No “quick drink leading to a vamp frenzy” and “have a nice dirt nap” for me. “Once they have my blood, they’ll steal demon powers and teleport onto Belyven and kidnap all the storm sprites they want.” I am so glad I left the amulet with Josef.

  Thandoran seethes, but at least he’s not on fire.

  “I’m back to where I was before. Anya had the same plan about teleporting onto Belyven, only she didn’t have the plan about knocking up a bunch of storm sprites and draining their babies.” My stomach twists. Sick, sick monsters.

  “We can’t let this happen,” Thandoran says. “Belyven will never be safe from demons or vampires if they get their hands on your blood and the amulet.”

  “That’s why we’ll destroy it when all’s said and done.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  We head to our room, using the underground tunnels. There’s no sign that the vampires knew of our little jaunt across the castle. No one even left us a meal. It’s a good thing they didn’t take our supply of ambrosia. Thandoran and I retreat to relative privacy while we indulge and bliss out. I’m huddled in my armchair, and Thandoran gazes out the window.

  My bliss-out almost has me forgetting the way Thandoran makes me feel until he groans softly behind me. I squeeze my eyes shut. Don’t think of him that way. Don’t think of him at all.

  Why does our ambrosia have to heighten our pleasure center? Wait until you’re on Belyven where you don’t need ambrosia. I’m so close to my goals. A few more days, maybe hours.

  I just have to kill some vamps and lift a curse.

  Breathe.

  Thandoran makes himself cozy on the bed, under the comforter. He doesn’t say a word, but he’s been up all night, so I let him pass out.

  We have about half a day until our midnight feast. I’m going to go stir crazy.

  Tentatively, I creep into the washroom and shut the door. Please, scary ghost, please don’t be in here.

  I study the antique tile on the walls and floor. I slide down the door and curl into a ball. “Killian,” I whisper into the fabric of my jeans, “if you’re here, please let me know. I need to talk to you.”

  Nothing.

  “Fine. I’ll talk to myself. I guess you’re watching over Kili like I asked you to, but I’m freaking out. You’re not here, but Thandoran is. It’s confusing me. But you have to understand… you’re a ghost. We can’t be together anymore. By the creator, I love you, but I don’t think I can live with a ghost anymore.”

  I sigh and rest my head against my knees. I let a few tears fall. Killian will understand. He’s always understood.

  I’m not sure how long I sit, but the washroom becomes cold without the heat of the fireplace. I decide to take a hot shower to kill the time and warm my cold fingers.

  I turn the water on to warm, and the sound like falling rain makes me ache for a summer storm. My shoulders melt downward as I pull the ponytail from my hair and let the heavy locks cascade down my back. My scalp hurts. So much tension. I close my eyes for a deep breath and lift my shirt over my head. As it drops from my fingertips to the floor, I glance at my reflection.

  She’s there. The woman. She’s small in the mirror, but then her face fills the space as if she’s rushing forward.

  Her white, filmy silhouette leaves the mirror and shoots right at me!

  I jump back.

  Her face hits mine, and she disappears as a chill races through my body. I suck in a rattling breath and nearly topple into the shower but catch myself on the tub.

  That was weird. I shake it off and look at my image.

  Looking good. I rub my fingers along my collarbone and slowly down my sternum and along the upper edge of my bra.

  This body I like. I fluff my hair and massage my scalp and arrange the locks in a side part. I test my smile and then lick my lips. “Thandoran,” I say to the mirror with a saucy breath. I lift my brows and smirk. Yes. This will do.

  I remove my boots and slide my jeans to the floor. I shiver when my socks come off and my feet hit the cold tile. There’s not much to this new style of lingerie these modern people wear. I wriggle my shoulders. I have to admit, I am very attractive.

  After turning the water off in the forgotten shower, I open the door with a gentle push. Thandoran breathes quietly on the bed. He’s so adorable. “Thandoran,” I whisper as I come closer.

  I smooth my palm under the covers and across his chest. When he doesn’t stir, I pull the covers back enough so I can climb on top of him. I straddle his hips and slide my palms up his chest. He makes a soft grunt and tries to roll over. “Sash,” he mumbles in his sleep.

  I lean down so my mouth is near his ear. “Shh.” I trail my tongue along his earlobe.

  Thandoran stiffens, and his eyes fly open. “Sasha?”

  I sit upright, but keep his hips firmly trapped under my legs.

  “What are you doing?” His big brown eyes are round with confusion. His nostrils flare slightly. “Where are your clothes?”

  I stare in wonder at the silver ring in his nose. Why would anyone want to stick something through their nose that way?

  It’s incredibly sexy.

  Thandoran tries to grab my shoulders and roll me off, but I intercept his arms and pin them above his head.

  Whoa. I’m really strong. I shimmy on his hips as I capture his eyes with mine. I’m going to try the compulsion that this sprite stole. I want to use all the tricks. A vampire once used it on me before he drank from me and killed me. Now it’s my turn to have some fun.

  I stroke Thandoran’s cheek. “Don’t struggle.”

  He goes limp, but his eyes are dim with disappointment. Betrayal. I lean closer until the different shades of brown in his eyes become clear. “All will be well. I promise. Just submit. It’ll be fun. You will have fun. And you can stop worrying. You won’t remember a thing. You will forget everything that happens between us. It will be as if you’ve had nothing but a refreshing nap.”

  “Sasha… you promised.”

  He shivers when my voice grows cold. “This isn’t Sasha.”

  THIRTY

  I hum in a warm, steamy shower, feeling quite relaxed. I napped to kill time but thought a shower was in order to wash the vampire funk off. By the time this night is over though, I’ll most likely be covered in vamp gore and soot from Thand
oran’s firestorm.

  But I like the idea of starting with a fresh canvas.

  Thandoran knocks on the washroom door. “It’s almost midnight. You done in there?”

  “Just a sec.” I shut off the water and wrap myself in a towel that I found under the vanity. I use a second one to wrap my hair. I don’t have a hairbrush or a blow dryer, so it’ll dry in a ridiculous mess.

  After five minutes, I’m back in my grungy clothes and finger-combing my hair in front of the fire. Why didn’t I pack a fresh change? “Sleep well?” I ask Thandoran.

  “Yeah. Strangely, but yeah.”

  “You ready to toast some vampires?” I pull my hair into a tight ponytail and braid it to keep as much of it out of the way as possible.

  “Oh yeah.” Thandoran hands me my backpack. “Drink up. We’ll need it.”

  I twist the top off a bottle of shelf-stable creamer. “Bottoms up.” I tip my drink back.

  Thandoran guzzles a bottle of orange juice. Wow. He’s not kidding around.

  Thandoran lowers his drink after an amorous gasp. “If everything goes to hell, I want you to leave me and get to Kaelea. You understand?”

  “Of course.”

  “You remember the way through the castle to Kaelea’s room?”

  “Don’t worry.” I paid close attention to the details that Isac gave. Once he senses that the firestorm has started, he’ll wait until there are death confirming screams before dropping the wards to free Kaelea and to let us teleport out of here.

  The bell on the wall jingles, signaling that it’s dinnertime. The lock on our door clicks, indicating that we’re free to leave and join them once again.

  We finish our drinks. I feel heady and relaxed, but strong and exhilarated. Time to get my game face on. Thandoran chucks his empty bottle into a wastebasket in the corner. He lifts his eyebrows. He has a smolder he lets go of before saying, “Ready?”

  It’s time to decimate these guys. These vamps are going down.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Thandoran and I sidle past the throng of vampires and take our seats next to Ciprian. The atmosphere vibrates with excitement. What tricks does Ciprian have up his sleeve tonight?

  Thandoran and I are prepared with a few tricks of our own.

  “Sasha and Thandoran, welcome to this festive occasion. We have much to celebrate tonight. It is after all, Christmas.”

  Christmas. I suddenly feel lightheaded. How could I have forgotten? Nothing was decorated in this horrid place. No trees. No holly. No garland. Vampires didn’t celebrate Christmas, did they?

  “I’m so glad we could be here.” I say this with as much dripping sweetness as I can, but I blink hard, holding back tears. I should be with Kili. I should be watching him open presents this morning.

  Thandoran lays his hand on my knee. It’s warm and somehow the heat snakes through me and slows my heart. He wants to be sure I’m focused. Why wait? Let’s toast them now.

  I’m about to squeeze his hand to let him know when a server brings in a covered dish. Just one. He sets it in front of me.

  Ciprian’s ghastly face is alive with amusement.

  “Sasha, we have something special prepared for you. I understand you’re away from loved ones. It must be particularly hard for you given this time of year.” Ciprian waves his hand and the server lifts the lid.

  Something tan and wrinkled, with hairy knuckles, and dripping with a weird red sauce—

  I jump up, and my seat crashes backward.

  Thandoran’s on his feet too, and he pulls me into his arms. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

  I peek at the platter. It’s a hand. A severed hand. Oh. My stomach lurches. What the troublesome trolls? Then a large red stone on the ring finger glares at me.

  The garnet ring I was admiring on Josef’s hand while we were at demon central. I cover my mouth and exhale through my fingers. No. No. Josef. “What have you done to him?”

  “Please. Please. Sit back down,” Ciprian says.

  I shake my head. I want to tell Thandoran to burn them up, but I have to know what happened. The rest of the vampires in the room look either disgustingly satisfied or slightly disinterested. One has the nerve to sip his blood wine as if he’s bored.

  “What?” I hiss in his direction. “Are you just waiting for the real fun to start?” I would give him real fun, I would.

  “You don’t have to concern yourself with Josef anymore, Sasha,” Ciprian says.

  “You killed him.”

  “His demon fled, and his human was very delicious.”

  “No.” My head won’t stop wagging in denial. “No.”

  “We drank them all. Every single one of the demons at the estate.”

  “What? How?” Couldn’t they teleport to safety? How could they all be dead? I start shaking.

  “I want to thank you for restoring their powers.” Ciprian takes his time working a glove onto his hand.

  I’m staring, dumbfounded. The movement he performs is all too familiar. That’s because I do it every time I use the amulet. I swallow and swallow, but all I taste is acid.

  “Demons are easy to steal powers from when they’re unconscious because of gas. Most of them were in their beds, sleeping. We gassed the estate. They felt no pain before we took their powers and then drank them.” Ciprian reaches into his pocket. The large red amulet that is smooth and worn and fits nicely into the palm of my hand slides free, and Ciprian places it on the table.

  I lunge for the amulet, but Ciprian drops his hand over it. “Nah ah ah, Sasha.”

  “You’re lying! You don’t have my blood to power it.” He’d put a glove on. He couldn’t touch the amulet with his bare hand, then. How did he get my blood?

  “You have been careless with where you leave your elixir,” Ciprian snarls.

  The refrigerator in my room, within the wards, with the vials Jakob drew and the stockpile of my blood.

  “I have it all, Sasha. All of it. Very generous of you. Several pints, vials. Jakob was most forthcoming with the vials you gave him. All it took was a compelled human to walk through the wards in your apartment.”

  How could I have been so stupid? So so stupid to have left my blood so easily accessible. Storm sprites should have never been on Earth. The moment we learned that every supernatural on two legs craved our blood, we should have left immediately.

  I would have left if I wasn’t cursed.

  Ciprian waves a server forward with two covered dishes the size of tiny bread plates. The poor human lifts the lids and steps back.

  Coiled on the plates are two locks of hair. A scarlet lock I know so well and a thick dark brown lock. Natalia’s and Dumitru’s hair.

  “What have you done with them?” I snatch the hairs up and pocket them. Ciprian makes no move to stop me.

  “They are here. To ensure your cooperation,” Ciprian says.

  “They’re alive?”

  “You can check it with the compass of yours.”

  Thandoran doesn’t pull it from his pocket.

  “Sit, Sasha,” Ciprian says. “Surely you want to know the main occasion. We celebrate yet another victory.”

  A human rights the chair behind me and slides it forward until it bumps the back of my legs. There’s no way I’m going to sit. Ciprian continues, ignoring how Thandoran and I stare with rage-filled expressions.

  Thandoran grips my hand. His is unusually cool and clammy given how infuriated he should be.

  Unusually cool and clammy?

  Alarm bells stab my hearing. I turn to Thandoran with a concerned expression. I shake our entwined hands as if to ask what’s going on. He should be a raging inferno by now.

  Thandoran lifts his free hand and snaps his fingers, trying to coax a flame.

  Nothing happens.

  Panic builds in my chest.

  He cracks his palm open with emphasis.

  Nothing.

  “Sasha, I don’t feel so good.” Thandoran trips back and drops to a knee. I shove my chair ou
t of the way and brace him. He trembles in my arms. “What’s happening?”

  My ears ring, and my vision blurs. The vampires rise to their feet. The chairs’ sliding back and the clothes’ swishing should be amplified because of my usual vamp hearing.

  They’re not.

  With fearful eyes I glare at Ciprian. His lips are moving, but I can’t hear him. The vampires raise their goblets and drink. I wiggle a finger around in my ear and try again. I can’t make out Ciprian’s words.

  My heart races. I tug on Thandoran to pull him to his feet, but I’m too weak. He’s too heavy. My muscles shake. Why can’t I lift him?

  Oh no.

  Ciprian’s voice finally reaches me. “How terribly rude of me. I must speak louder so you can hear me, Sasha.”

  “What have you done?” My voice is nothing more than a wheeze.

  “You can hear me now, can’t you? I was speaking so only those with acute supernatural hearing could hear. It’s such a pain to speak loud enough so humans can understand.”

  “You’ve taken our powers,” I say.

  He didn’t touch us with the amulet. How?

  Ciprian bristles. “That’s not at all correct, I must say.”

  “Then what?” I gasp.

  Thandoran pushes up, and we lean against each other. His breathing is ragged. I’m in panic mode. I’ve had vamp senses for so long that I feel half dead without them. Every movement is labored. Every breath is heavy.

  “Sasha,” Ciprian says. “Come now. Please, won’t you share with us what hidden ability—talent, if you will—storm sprites have?”

  “I don’t know what…” I say.

  “Storm sprites have an ability that wasn’t known until you came to Earth. Until you prostituted yourself with other supernaturals.”

  “What?” Obviously I know this. We discussed this with Isac. It’s how the vampires kept producing infants with Kaelea. But how have I lost my powers? I haven’t had sex with anyone since Killian. So how?

  And Thandoran… where did his flame go? I always knew he was something else, but something that can have its flames taken?