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“In Paris,” he said.
Paris? What the—? She’d been flown across the ocean, from her current residence of Boston, Massachusetts, to France?
Anger rising, Tuesday lunged forward, gripping the steel bars. Vicious electricity zapped at her fingers, and she released them, taking the brunt of the shocking force through her body. She was violently tossed backward to land on her ass in the center of the cage. Legs splayed, she shook off a shiver. Her fur coat slipped down her shoulders to her wrists. She sucked in a gulp of air.
The man smirked. “By the way, those bars are activated.”
Tuesday flicked up the sign of the Devil and growled, “Be taken to Beneath!”
“She speaks. And with a curse, of all things. I would expect nothing less from a dark witch. But the cage is warded. As is this clean room. No magic can get in or out. Nice try, though.”
Oh, he wanted a curse? Utterly incensed, Tuesday spread out her fingers and focused a stream of magic at the man’s crotch. “Languidulus!”
While normally invisible, once her magic hit the cage bars, a shot of violet light bounced off and splintered in dying pink embers onto the cage floor.
“What was that?” The vampire’s smirk was annoyingly sexy. “Another curse? Did you try to give me a tail?”
Tuesday smiled nicely and tilted her head. “Actually, I cursed your dick to forever remain limp. And my magic is much stronger than you can imagine. I’d invest in Viagra, if I were you.” She winked at him.
The slightest flinch moved the corner of one of his eyes. Bull’s-eye. She could get under the man’s skin. With mere words. This predicament was going to prove an easy escape. She just had to dig under his outer machismo to access the key.
But Paris? That meant she’d been out, at the very least, for eight or nine hours. And moved around according to this bastard’s will. Not cool.
“What the hell is the benevolent Council doing sending someone to kidnap me?” she asked. Standing, her heels clicked on the cage floor. She shook out the alpaca fur coat she wore over black leggings and a comfy shirt. The coat was spangled in warding designs. A Tibetan monk had initially made it for her. A glitter sidhe-witch had sewn on the wards a few years ago. “And who the fuck is Ethan Pierce?”
“I’m the director of Acquisitions. We acquire things that need to be locked away. Behind chains and wards.”
“And you think I need to be locked away?” She flipped him the bird. Yeah, so it wasn’t a hex. Some common gestures were much more to the point.
“Actually, Acquisitions needs you to get to what we really want.”
“Which is?”
“The blood demon Gazariel.”
Tuesday’s hand slapped across her chest, below the obsidian crystal. Though rarely spoken, the sound of that demon’s name always provoked such an action. She could feel his sigil burn her skin under the silk shirt.
“We know you wear the demon’s sigil,” Ethan explained. “Got it in the seventeenth century, if our records are accurate. Will you show it to me?”
She wouldn’t give him anything. Not until she heard what weird and strange plans he—they; Acquisitions?—had for her.
“The sigil is some kind of blood curse, yes?” He paced a few steps to the side then turned back to her. “Doesn’t matter how you got it. Or what it does. But I’ve been told, because of your connection to the demon, it makes you one of the darkest of the dark witches. I don’t like dark witches, by the way.”
“Would have never guessed. Your hosting skills are severely lacking. And I don’t care what the hell you are, Pierce, I don’t like you.”
“I’m vampire.”
“I knew that.” She sneered. “A flesh pricker. Who is also a Richard.”
“A... Richard?” The man narrowed his eyes and shrugged in question.
“Think about it a bit,” she offered. He’d get it, sooner or later. “So you think you have the right to pluck any old witch off the streets and force her to do your bidding?”
“I wouldn’t use the word force. But you are old, aren’t you?”
His self-satisfied smirk did not rile her. Too much. Age was relative when a person had immortality; he should know that. She snapped the rubber band she wore about her wrist. The man would not like to see her dark magic in all its wicked glory.
“You have been brought to Paris to assist us in locating Gazariel.”
The sigil she’d worn since the seventeenth century burned over her skin. “Quit saying that name,” she insisted. “You only grant the demon more power with each utterance. Do you know that?”
Apparently he did not.
The man hung his head for a few seconds, then looked up at her. “I know my demon lore. Basically. The saying a name three times thing generally only works with Himself. Demons are much more slippery when it comes to summoning them. Which is why you are here in Paris.”
Paris! She could not believe this.
“Now, you’ll serve to lure the demon to us—me, since I’m in charge of this mission—and then I will obtain from him what we seek to contain.”
“The demon has something you want?”
He nodded. “It’s dangerous to all. In the demon’s hands, the world could be destroyed.”
Tuesday scoffed. Always so dramatic with the end-of-the-world crap. It was never a small portion of the world, but the whole thing. What kind of villain would even think to destroy a world he would like to remain on to rule? The demon couldn’t rule anything if he didn’t have followers to bow down to him. End of the world, her ass.
But then she considered what she knew about Gazariel. He was a trickster. His title was The Beautiful One. Because he was a pretty bit of charm and allure. Vain and self-serving, as well. And deadly. He liked to take advantage of a person when they were at their lowest, defeated. But most importantly, he was an asshole. And she didn’t want to get any closer to him than she already was. Wearing his sigil did not make her his bitch—so long as she kept her distance from him.
“So let me get this straight.” She walked up to the bars until the shock waves from the wards teased at her skin and lifted the hairs in her pores. Must have been warded by another dark witch with a tech edge. It messed with her personal vibrations, so she took a step back and, with a thought, pulled a white light over herself. All she could manage in this damnable cage was a weak veil, but it gave her some solace. “You want to dangle me before the demon as bait?”
The man tapped a finger against his jaw, then nodded. “Yes, that’s about it.”
She turned and paced in a half arc, hands to her hips, head down in thought. A glance to the man’s face found him stoic, trying to show her he would not back down, no matter what. Tough guy, pushing around a helpless woman. Been there, done that. Never going to let it happen again.
If she should refuse him, he would force her. And enjoy it. Typical male.
But he didn’t know Tuesday Knightsbridge at all. Helplessness was not a condition she had ever ascribed to. And that would give her the upper hand.
“Sounds like fun,” she said cheerily. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 2 (#u798c94f9-5156-58e1-8db3-9c61a9887ffc)
Another man entered the clean room and Tuesday immediately felt familiar vibrations flow off of him. Another dark witch. He was tall and lean, and everything about him was black, from his long straight hair and thin mustache to his clothing. Spell tattoos covered his hands and exposed neck. A coil of thin rope was attached to his hip holster à la the Wild West. Weird. Also, he wasn’t wearing shoes.
“You’ve got her in a cage?” he said to the vampire. “What the hell?”
“She’s dangerous,” Ethan said.
Yeah, and don’t forget it, buddy. But Tuesday didn’t say that.
Instead she crossed her arms and stood in the cage center, taking in her opponents. The dark one was on alert in his movements as he walked around the cage as if sizing up an animal. Shame threatened to rise up in her. She’d been made to feel like less than dirt many times before. Always by those who claimed witches were foul and evil things, and who would seek to allay their shortcomings and misguided beliefs by harming her. But that had been centuries ago.
Would this world never get a clue and drop the old, ingrained prejudices?
“This is Certainly Jones,” Ethan said to her. “He’s head of the Archives and our resident dark witch.”
“Are you okay? Have you been treated well?” Certainly asked her. A touch of British accented his voice, and his tone felt calming.
“I’ve been kidnapped. Most likely drugged. I’m hungry. And I have to pee,” she offered. “How’s tricks with you?”
He stopped before the front of the cage and looked over his shoulder at the militant vampire. “You should feed her. And let her go to the bathroom.”
“As soon as we’ve shackled her, she can do whatever she desires.”
“Shackle?” Tuesday closed her eyes, fisting her fingers at her sides. “What the hell is going on?”
“We need you to work for us. You’ve agreed, saying it would be fun,” Ethan said. “But in order to work alongside me you’ll have to be out of this cage. And I can’t risk you running off or using your magic against me. CJ here has a simple shackle spell that’ll keep you subdued.”
“You are a—” She lunged, aiming to grasp through the cage bars, but too late, she remembered it was electrified. The jolt sent her flying backward again to land on her back in a sprawl. “I hate you!”
“I don’t need you to like me. I just need you to help me find Gazariel.”
“Stop saying that bastard’s name,” she said from her position on the floor. Humiliated and utterly exhausted, she wasn’t about to pull herself up until he gave her a good reason to do so.
“Saying the demon’s name won’t invoke him,” Certainly said.
“I know that. I just hate his name. You think the two of us were friends? That’s why I’m wearing his sigil?” Letting her head fall back, she flipped them both the bird from the floor.
“She’s definitely going to be a handful,” Certainly commented. “Open the cage and let me in. I’ve got this rope bespelled to shackle her.”
The dark witch was coming inside with her? Well...she wasn’t in the mood to fight him. And he thought to shackle her with a rope spell? That wasn’t going to go as successfully for him as he expected. Tuesday decided to play along. Just for giggles.
The bars suddenly flickered with static and then Tuesday felt the electric energy shut off. The cage door swung open with a creak. She remained splayed on the floor as the dark witch stepped up into the cage and padded over and stood above her. The door closed and she heard the vampire twist the lock then tap in a digital code.
“I’m sorry about this,” Certainly said. “I know you didn’t ask for this, but sometimes things have to be done to ensure worse things don’t happen.”
“Now you’re going to tell me not to blame you and that we can all get along, right? Peace, love and ‘Kumbaya’? Get it done with, witch. I do need to use the facilities.”
“Will you stand, please?”
Tuesday held up her hand and gestured for him to grab it to help her stand. As he did so, she felt his magic jolt against her own. He was strong, but not as powerful as her. But he was cute, and she had a plan, so she was going to let him off easy. Mostly. And hell, she wasn’t sure she could even invoke her magic inside this crazy warded cage. But she wouldn’t be Tuesday Knightsbridge if she didn’t give it a go.
She slapped her palms to his temples and fixed her gaze onto his intense jade eyes. Before he knew to look away she fixed onto his soul. It was a witch’s skill, to hold a soul fix on another witch. She felt his inner struggle, his need to close his eyes and lock her out. But she had been doing this far too long to allow anyone escape from her delving soul gaze.
The witch’s soul was dark to the core. Less than two centuries old, he’d walked a free and defiant path. He was...connected closely to another. A twin? Yes, he had a twin brother for whom he held great love and respect. He’d once carried dozens of demons within him after a trip to Daemonia. Some of those demons had made him hurt himself. Others had taught him to care more deeply than he could have fathomed. And...the man loved deeply. Another witch, who was mother to his one-year-old twin sons.
That feeling, the emotion of unconditional love that flooded the man’s system, pricked at Tuesday’s willpower. She winced, fearing what may happen should she allow herself to linger in his eyes. To fall into the deep and devastating emotion of love.
Tuesday released the man and he stumbled backward, catching himself before he hit the bars.
“What did she do to you?” Ethan asked from outside the cage.
“I’m...fine,” Certainly said, catching his hands on his knees and huffing. It took a lot out of a person to have his soul tapped. “She just...”
“I looked into his soul,” Tuesday explained to Ethan. “I like this one. He’s strong.” She pointed at the vampire. “You. I do not like.”
“We’ve already discussed our mutual lack of admiration for one another. Like isn’t a requirement to work together. You going to be okay, CJ?”
The dark witch nodded. “Yep. Just gathering back my wits.” He straightened and snapped the simple rope before him in warning. “You going to behave?”
Tuesday nodded. “I saw your wife. You love her very much.”
“I would die for her,” Certainly said with an ease that tugged at Tuesday’s hardened heart. Because she believed that he would. What a lucky woman.
Romantics and silly sops would have a person believe love was the be-all and end-all. Whatever.
“Get on with it.”
She held her hands before her, wrists together, waiting to be bound. The rope wouldn’t impact her movement or physical health. It would keep her from performing any sort of magic, hex, spell or charm. But if the rope was damaged after the spell had been cast...
“On second thought,” she said, “it’ll work better if you drape it across my chest.”
“Across your heart,” Certainly said. “Good idea. And you will need the use of your hands.” He lowered the lariat over her head and rested it on a shoulder, then draped it across her heart to fall between her breasts. “You’re going to have to remove the crystal.”
“I never take it off.”
“The spell won’t fix otherwise.”
She shook her head and clasped the cool obsidian.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Certainly asked.
“Did they drug me?” she asked quietly. “Just tell me what they used to incapacitate me.”
“I don’t know for sure. Henbane, possibly?”
Tuesday nodded. Henbane, when mixed with a vile adjuvant, could take out a witch for the better part of a day. Damn it! Her wards should have caught that.
Certainly Jones could prove an ally if she played her cards right. But for now she must submit in order to gain freedom. She pulled the leather cord from around her neck and handed it to him. “That must be returned to me immediately.”
“It will. You’ll be able to wear it after I’ve cast the spell.” He tucked the crystal in his front pocket, then jumped a little in reaction.
“It’s not yours to possess,” Tuesday warned. “It will come back to me quickly.”
“I get that.” He tapped the rope. “This will shackle your magic only against Ethan Pierce. You will still be able to wield magic in all other instances. It may be necessary to protect yourself against the demon.”
“I appreciate that. What the hell is that guy?”
Certainly looked over a shoulder. Ethan paced, arms across his chest.
