Blood Magic Page 11
Thank goodness there didn’t seem to be any amusement in his words, I didn’t think I would’ve been able to handle it. All the guilt I felt was now shifting to anger. I was pissed at myself because I had led Bram, not only to Hazel, but to my family as well the instant the first cloaking spell went down. I’d been so stupid!
Aunt Rowena’s protection spell, a voice in the back of my mind reminded me. She’d sent me a text once it was in place. Bram shouldn’t have been able to step foot in town with it up.
Unless he was more powerful than I’d given him credit for. No. My gut told me it was because of something else. There had to be another reason, like Bram already being in town when Aunt Rowena cast the spell.
My heartbeat grew sluggish at the thought.
That was it. Aunt Rowena had been too late. Bram had already been in town when she set her protection spell in place.
I swallowed hard.
“Hey, don’t blame yourself okay?” Hazel insisted as she placed a hand on my arm, pulling my attention to her. “Chances were pretty high he would have found me anyway. I don’t want you thinking it was because you did anything wrong or because you failed me somehow.”
I flashed her a small smile. While her words helped, they didn’t erase what I felt. “Thanks.”
Movement from the living room sounded. I hoped it was Benji coming to.
“Aw, man. What the hell happened? And why does my neck hurt so damn bad?” I heard him ask from the living room.
I released the breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding and a slow smile spread on my face. It was good to hear Benji’s voice. I took a step toward the living room, but paused when Roman’s warning from earlier played through my mind again. With my hands crammed into the back pockets of my jeans, I waited for Benji to come to me.
“I know what happened,” Julian growled. His tone was dark and dangerous, a stark contrast to how calm and laid back it usually was. Yep, remaining in the kitchen had been a good call. “Bram snapped our necks. Theirs too.”
I imagined him nodding to where his sisters lay sprawled out on the floor near them.
“Shit! Ridley?” Benji shouted. Raw, undiluted panic rang through his voice. It had me moving toward him again. “Ridley!”
He spun to face me the instant I entered the room. His chest heaved and the veins in his arms bulged as he clamped his fists at his sides. Using his vampire speed, he rushed to where I was.
“I’m here,” I said as his arms wrapped around my middle and pulled me close with more force than necessary. All the air rushed from my lungs and he released his tight grip. “I’m safe. Everyone is.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and allowed him to hold me. My insides hummed with the same energy that always flooded my system when he was touching me and I melted against him even more.
“What happened? How were y’all able to get rid of him this time? Did you do some of your crazy witch magic on him again?” Benji asked as his lips twisted into a half smile. He seemed at ease now that he knew I was okay. “Please tell me you blew him up.”
I shook my head. “I wish. My magic didn’t work on him this time. He had some sort of symbol drawn on his arm to protect himself against me. And actually, Roman was the one who saved us.” I pointed to him. He stood in the threshold between the kitchen and living room, glass of blood in hand.
“I’m glad to see you decided to leave your office for a while,” Julian said. He adjusted his glasses and flashed a boyish grin at his brother. “It only took all of us getting our asses handed to us for you to help.”
My teeth sank into my bottom lip as I struggled to suppress a laugh. It was the first time I’d ever heard Julian cuss. At least that I could remember. He always seemed prim and proper. Beyond curse words.
“Someone had to,” Roman countered as a smirk twisted across his face. In that moment, I felt as though a tiny piece of the monster I’d always thought he was broke away.
Maybe he wasn’t as bad as I’d made him out to be.
“How did you do it?” Benji asked Roman as we all made our way into the kitchen where Hazel sat at the island, sipping her tea.
“My mind.” Roman tapped his temple. “I made him think we were in possession of the amulet.”
“You used your gift,” Benji muttered. His arms fell slack at his sides. “Which by the way, when am I goin’ to get one?”
I blinked. Him having a super cool vampire gift besides the standard hadn’t ever crossed my mind. Obviously, he’d been thinking about it lately. At least, I was hearing where his mind was at on this topic from him and not someone else. This could be viewed as progress. Slightly.
“No one can give you that answer,” Julian said. “One might emerge and one might not. Only time will tell.”
Sounds from the living room indicated someone else was coming to. No one spoke. No one moved. We all simply waited, listening.
“I see no ashes. Am I correct in assuming everyone is okay, then?” Octavia yelled, her voice more raspy and hoarse than usual.
“We’re all fine,” Julian informed her. The corners of his lips quirked upward to form a smile.
“Good. No one bother me. I’ll be upstairs taking a long, hot bath,” Octavia said. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floors.
Would anyone have bothered her if she hadn’t told us not to? I didn’t think so. She’d sounded pissed. And, a pissed off Octavia wasn’t someone I wanted to mess with. Especially not after learning what her power was.
She could move stuff with her mind. That was insane.
“I have to say, usin’ your power to make him think they had the amulet was pretty damn clever,” Benji said, complimenting Roman.
“Actually,” Julian insisted. His hand moved along his jawline as though he were lost in thought. “It was genius.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Roman grinned. It was the first time I’d witnessed him smile wide and not thought he looked as though he was made of pure evil. His smile seemed normal. He seemed normal.
“I would,” Julian insisted. “Now we know how afraid of the amulet Bram truly is. Also, he now believes we’re in possession of it. This gives us time to find the amulet. He won’t be coming back anytime soon. Not until he regroups and figures out another way to get to what he wants.”
I glanced at Hazel, knowing she was what Bram wanted, and watched as her face became ashen.
“Don’t worry. He’s not going to get his hands on you. Not if I can help it,” I said. My words held more confidence than I felt, but they seemed to chase away some of the fear reflected in Hazel’s expression. “We need that amulet. Now. Before Bram comes after us again.”
Because he would come again; everyone knew it.
“You have a plan?” Benji asked. “You sound like you have a plan.”
I shook my head. “All I know is we need to get to Oak Island and find Fran. If we’re lucky, she’ll have the amulet.”
“When do you want to leave?” Benji asked.
“Soon. We’re sitting ducks here.” As much as I hated to admit it, it was the truth.
“I don’t know where he is, but you wait until I get my hands on him,” Ivette growled from the living room, surprising me. “I’m going to snap his neck and then kick him where it counts for good measure.”
Laughter filled the kitchen, pouring from all of us.
“Don’t laugh at me,” Ivette snapped as she stormed into the kitchen. She placed a hand on her hip and gave us each a go-to-hell look I didn’t think she was capable of. “Everyone knows it’s the tiny, quiet ones you have to watch out for.”
I had heard that expression more than once, but it wasn’t until now that I believed it to be true.
“Back to the Oak Island plan,” Benji said. “When are we goin’?”
“Now.” The word came without much thought. I was tired and didn’t feel like being trapped in a vehicle for hours, but this was important. “We need to find the amulet before Bram makes his next move.”
“I am,” Ivette volunteered before either of her brothers could.
“I think it’s best if I stay behind and inform the wolves of what happened here tonight. I’ll also be on the lookout for Bram. See if I can’t figure out his next move,” Julian insisted.
“I’ll help you,” Roman surprised me by saying, his attention focused on Julian. It seemed as though getting his hands a little dirty had somehow put him in the game. Finally.
“Okay, then it’s settled,” Benji said as he glanced from me to Hazel and then Ivette. “The four of us are headin’ to Oak Island.” He wiggled his brows like the thought of another road trip adventure excited him.
I wished I felt the same.
Chapter 9
Benji drove the eight hours from Mirror Lake to Oak Island. I didn’t protest. I was exhausted and running on fumes; there was no way I would have been able to drive the distance safely. Even though I was physically tired, I still couldn’t bring myself to sleep. My mind raced with too many thoughts about finding the amulet and beating Bram. Thankfully, I’d been able to prepare some before we left. Since my main worry was Bram learning we hadn’t been in possession of the amulet and coming after us, I’d created a few potions to use against him for just in case. I’d also been able to gather the candles and other things needed for the blood magic locator spell, should we have to use it.
“Can we stop for something to eat?” Hazel asked. She sat forward, positioning her head between the driver and passenger seats of my car. “I’m starved and need to get out and stretch my legs before they become permanently numb.”
“I second that,” I said. “My legs could use some stretch time.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. What kind of food are you hungry for?” Benji asked.
“Preferably biscuits and gravy, but at this point, I’d eat just about anything,” Hazel insisted.
“How about there?” I pointed to a sign for a place called Blue Wave Diner half a mile up the road. “Take exit five.”
Benji nodded and switched into the right lane. “I could go for a cup of coffee or somethin’.”
I knew what his ‘or something’ was and wondered how he would sneak it. It wasn’t as though he could walk into the diner and ask the waitress to use the microwave. Or could he? After all, Ivette had come with us. She could probably use her gift of compulsion on our waitress and have her warm up bags of blood for them both.
When the tiny diner came into view, I noticed right away how packed the place was. It surprised me, considering it was a Friday morning.
“It’s a good sign the food doesn’t suck when you see a place packed,” Benji insisted as he pulled into a parking spot near the entrance.
Hazel laughed. “I remember my grandma saying something similar once or twice.”
We all climbed out of the car the instant Benji parked. I stretched my arms high above my head and twisted my back around before bending to touch my toes. My body made noises in protest of my movements, but it felt good to be moving.
As we walked to the entrance of the diner, Benji grabbed my hand and interlaced our fingers. His thumb caressed mine and I felt the tension melt from me.
“You okay?” he asked. “You’re kinda quiet.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.” I flashed him a reassuring smile. One he returned with a half grin of his own.
The sweet scent of maple syrup floated to my nose as we neared the entrance of the diner, and I spotted a sign for a twenty-four-hour pancake bar in the window.
Heaven. This place was heaven.
Well, assuming they had peanut butter I could spread on my pancakes.
Once we all finished eating, and Benji had himself a bag of blood in the car, we made our way to Treasure Chest Thrift Store in search of Fran. It took less than seven minutes to get from Blue Wave Diner to the thrift store. Oak Island reminded me a lot of Mirror Lake because of its size.
Treasure Chest Thrift Store stuck out like a sore thumb. The building was painted banana yellow with blue trim. When Benji pulled into a parking spot near the front of the building and cut the engine, I exhaled a slow breath.
“I hope we find what we’re looking for,” I said.
“Me too,” Benji agreed.
My mind swam with all the what-ifs—what if the amulet wasn’t here, what if Fran didn’t know what we were talking about, what if she did know there was something magical about the amulet and refused to give it to us?
A fluttering sensation entered my stomach as my mouth grew dry while we all climbed out of my car and headed across the parking lot toward the store.
Benji held the door open for us like the gentleman he was, and we all stepped inside. The aroma of honeysuckle lingered in the air. It was sweet and so much better than the harsh scent of mothballs I’d been expecting. As I glanced around, I realized this place was nothing like I’d expected it to be. While I didn’t have anything against thrift stores—they were where Aunt Rowena shopped for furniture for the inn nine times out of ten—I’d never been in one as nice as this place before. Not only did it smell of honeysuckle, but it also was well lit, organized, and squeaky clean.
Obviously, Treasure Chest Thrift Store was Fran’s passion.
“Now, that is your color! Match it with a black leather jacket and a simple T-shirt and you’ve got yourself the perfect late night outfit,” an old woman said with loads of enthusiasm from behind the register. She stood chatting with a teenage girl holding a dark red leather skirt up to herself while she stood in front of a full-length mirror. “Want me to ring it up for you, Miss Leah?”
The old woman reminded me of Adele. Not because of her caramel-colored skin, but because of the raspy tone to her voice and the warm friendliness that oozed from her. I immediately liked her. She had short cropped gray fuzzy hair and wore thick purple glasses.
She was Fran. I could feel it.
“That’s her.” I pointed her out to the others.
“My hands are sweating so badly. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” Hazel wiped her palms against her jean-clad thighs. “How did y’all do this with me before? I mean, how do we even tell her what we’re here for?”
A smirk cut across my face. “Well, telling you what we were there for wasn’t exactly easy, but this is. Somewhat. We don’t have to mention Bram or any supernatural stuff to her. We can just ask for the necklace, not even mentioning it’s an amulet.”
“That’s right,” Benji insisted with a nod. “We’re just here lookin’ for a family heirloom of yours.”
“Exactly,” Ivette agreed.
“Family heirloom. Good idea,” Hazel insisted. “Feel free to start the conversation with her.”
“It would be better if you did,” I said to her.
She frowned. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
The teen girl who had been chatting with Fran while contemplating buying the leather skirt slipped past us, headed for the exit. She wore black combat boots and a shirt that resembled a spider web. With her dark hair and black painted lips, it was clear she was into the whole gothic scene. I’d always admired girls who could pull off the look, but especially those who were authentic about it. It was the ones who dressed that way because they wanted attention that got on my nerves.
“Can I help you find something?” the old woman asked.
I glanced at Hazel, waiting for her to speak. When she didn’t, I bumped her with my elbow. Still, she refused to say a word. When the old woman appeared to be growing frustrated I started talking.
“I think so,” I said. “We’re looking for the woman who owns this place. Her name is Fran.”
“You’re looking at her,” the old woman said with a smile. “What can I help you with today?”
“Actually, can we have a word with you in private?” I asked.
Fran’s eyes narrowed. Could she sense what I was? What ab
out Benji or Ivette? Maybe she knew of the supernatural world but had kept the knowledge hidden from Adele. It was possible.
“About what?” Fran’s arms folded over her ample chest as her feet seemed to root in place. It was clear she wasn’t willing to go some place private with us without first getting a few details about what we were there for.
“It’s about my grandmother,” Hazel chimed in. She stepped forward, and Fran’s eyes widened at the sight of her. A heartbeat later they filled with sympathy. “Adele was her name,” Hazel said, even though it was clear from the look on Fran’s face she hadn’t needed to tell her who her grandmother was.
Fran knew from one look at her.
The old woman waved Hazel’s last words away. “I know who your grandmother is, child. I’d be more than happy to speak with you. Give me a second.” She stepped from behind the register and headed to a back room.
“Hmm, I guess Grandma was right. She recognized me,” Hazel said. Something akin to happiness reflected in her tone, bringing a smile to my face.
When Fran came back, she had a guy who looked to be in his early twenties with her. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, reminding me of a surfer, and his whole demeanor was laid back.
“I’ll only be a few minutes. I need to speak with these young folks about something,” Fran said. “Do you remember how to use the register?”
“Yeah, I think so,” the guy, whose name tag read Scott, said. He scratched his head, not looking too confident.
Scott. Not the name I figured he’d have considering his laid back, surfer vibe.
Fran rolled her eyes and motioned for us to follow her through the shop to the back room she’d just come from. “It’s so hard to find good, competent help nowadays. We better make this quick before he screws up the register.”
When we entered the back room, I found myself surprised by what I saw. Again I’d expected a dark and dreary room crammed full of junk but instead the space was well-lit, organized, and clean. Shelves upon shelves of merchandise waited to be priced and placed out front to be sold.