Southern Witch - Would-Be Witch Part 18

"Why are they after me?"

"You stabbed one of them."

"But the wolf-man tonight said I was their enemy before that. Why?"

He leaned against the counter, as s.e.xy as the stainless steel. "You tell me."

"How should I know? I'm a pastry chef."

"You never cast any spells before you got fired?"

"Never. Never ever!"

Bryn shrugged. "I don't know."

"That's it? You're supposed to be a brilliant lawyer."

He grinned. "And when they sue you, I'll have an answer for every question and a plan for every courtroom eventuality."

"I don't need courtroom help. I need to know how to stop them from coming after me. Have you got a plan for that?"

The microwave beeped.

"It happens that I might," he said, and I heard that faint Irish lilt again.

He took the food out and set it in front of me with a beautifully polished silver knife and fork and a navy blue linen napkin. He got me a gla.s.s of water and a gla.s.s of red wine.

"So, are you going to tell me?" I asked impatiently as I placed the napkin on my lap.

He sat down at the table across from me. "We'll need to strike a bargain. I don't offer preternatural services gratis."

I chewed the delicious roast beef silently. "I'm broke. I have four hundred dollars left to my name." Which is kind of stolen, and which I'll need to return eventually to get the family jewels back. "But if you'll sell me a protection spell, that'd be a good use of what I have."

"I can't do that. It's illegal for me to sell spells."

"How come there are stores that can sell spellbooks then?"

"The books' former owners are dead. The spells are sort of public domain, waiting for a new witch or wizard to claim the compilation and make it his or her own."

"But you gave me spells."

He smiled. "I did. It was supposed to be a one-time occurrence . . . because there were special circ.u.mstances."

"Well, right, but some more special circ.u.mstances have come up."

"They always do," he said, laughing softly. "No one with power ever stops with one spell."

"Hey, I'm gonna stop. Just as soon as I get a chance to." I ate my vegetables and took a gulp of wine. "So. What do you want in exchange for help with the werewolves?"

"I want you to apprentice yourself to me."

"Not going to happen."

"You do realize that your life is at stake?"

"Of course, I do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't know that."

Suddenly a disembodied voice boomed overhead, startling me. "Mr. Lyons, pick up. We have a situation."

Bryn stood and walked over to a wall phone. He picked it up and asked, "What's going on, Steve?" Bryn listened and frowned. "Detain them at the front."

There was suddenly a pounding on the back door to the kitchen. I jumped up and yanked the gun from my purse, pointing it.

Bryn raised his eyebrows. "It's not the werewolves. You can put that away."

I ignored him. "Aren't you going to answer it?"

"Why don't you wait in the foyer?"

"No way."

"This doesn't concern you. Wait in the foyer."

Whoever was outside pounded again.

"And I won't need a gun?"

"Not unless you're planning to shoot the flower arrangement in the foyer. Go, now."

I grabbed my purse and spun on my heel. I left the kitchen and walked about five feet down the hall. One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one thousand. I stopped counting when a young guy in a security uniform started coming down the hall toward me.

"Steve?" I asked.

"Ms. Trask, can I show you the front hall?"

"Sure," I said with a smile, then I turned and darted back to the kitchen.

As a chef, I've seen plenty of disasters in the kitchen, but in all my days, I've never seen any thing that shocked me so much as the scene in Bryn's.

Georgia Sue lay unconscious on the table where I'd just had dinner. She looked like she'd been carved from ivory; she was that white. Bryn and Lennox Lyons leaned over her.

"What? What?" I yelled, rus.h.i.+ng to her. There were a few drops of blood on the collar of her white Jammers work s.h.i.+rt. Then I saw the two tiny bite marks.

"You're vampires!" I screamed, yanking my gun back out.

"No," Bryn said holding his arms out.

Suddenly, Lennox Lyons looking so pale and ill made sense. He was a vampire, and he hadn't been letting himself feed.

"You get away from her, right now." They backed up.

"She has been bitten, but I didn't bite her," Lennox said. "She was in Magnolia Park."

"Liar! She wouldn't have been in the park alone. She's married, and she got married so she'd never have to go anywhere alone, unless it was the hairdresser or the spa, which the park at night sure isn't. Now pick up that phone and call nine-one-one."

"She'll be dead before they get here. She needs blood right now," Lennox said. He still had his arms in the air.

"We have blood here. We can save her, if you put down your gun," Bryn said.

"I don't need to put down my gun for you to save her. Go ahead."

Lennox walked over to a small stand-alone cupboard and took out a stash of medical supplies. "Steve, go to the small fridge and get two packets of blood."

Steve looked unhappy, but he turned and hurried down the hall.

I stared incredulously as Lennox pushed up Georgia's sleeve and expertly started an IV. A minute later, Steve was back with a packet of blood that was labeled like it had been stolen from a blood bank or hospital.

"Can you just give her that? Doesn't it have to be, what do you call it, checked to be sure it matches her blood?"

"This blood is type O negative. It can safely be given to anyone," Lennox said.

The gun in my hand shook as Lennox connected the blood to the IV and it started to drip into Georgia's arm. Bryn lunged forward as the gun dropped to the floor and caught me just before I hit the ground.

The room spun around me for a few moments, and I felt distinctly sick as sweat popped out on my forehead.

"You're all right," Bryn said soothingly. "Steve, a wet cloth."

A moment later, a cool rag was lying across my eyes, and I did feel better.

"How does he know how to start an IV?"

"He's been sick. He's had to take transfusions himself. He doesn't like hospitals."

"What's wrong with him?"

"A blood disease."

Like vampirism? I'd heard that some vampires who were too weak to drink blood had it poured right into their veins by others in their covens.

"He found her vein pretty darn easy," I mumbled.

Lennox cleared his throat. "I had a small drug habit in the early eighties. Fortunately for your friend, I can always find a vein."

I pushed the washrag up from my right eye and looked at him. "A small drug habit?"

He inclined his head. "Heroin."

A real-live heroin addict in Duvall? And everyone said we couldn't get any of the big drugs so far from the big cities. "You're still using?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but no. And why exactly are you here?" Lennox asked. "Aren't you banned from fraternizing with us?" His tone was like he was talking down to a half-wit.

I glared at him. "What do you know about it?" I asked, noticing that Bryn was watching him intently.

Lennox shrugged. "What could I know about it? When the second bag goes in, she may regain consciousness, Bryn. We'll need to get her out of here."

I sat up slowly. "We'll call an ambulance."

Lennox ignored me. "I'll take her back to the park and call an ambulance from the pay phone a block away. She'll survive long enough for them to arrive."

"You could have called the ambulance when you found her," Bryn said.

"The ambulances don't carry blood, and the house was closer." Neither Bryn nor I said anything, and Lennox added softly, "And I owed her husband a favor. Debt settled."

I noticed then that Lennox looked a little pale and sweaty himself. Did he need the blood he'd given Georgia Sue? What would happen to him without it?

"Bryn, put Georgia back in the car," Lennox said.

"I'll take her to the park," Bryn said.

"No, my contact may still be in the vicinity. I'll have a look around."

"I'll take care of it-"

"I want to keep you out of it."

"That gets less and less possible," Bryn observed, s.h.i.+fting so that I was sitting on my own. He stood and walked to Georgia Sue as Lennox hung the second bag of blood. It ran into her quickly, and she looked pinker.

"I'm going to the park. I'll wait with her until the ambulance comes," I said.

"No," Lennox said.

I stood up, took Earl's gun from the table where Bryn had put it, and dropped it into my purse. "She's my best friend. I'm going."

The phone rang, and Bryn walked over and picked it up. "h.e.l.lo?" He paused. "Astrid, it's not a good time."

I chewed on my lip, glancing anxiously at Georgia Sue.

"I understand that, but you can't come to the house tonight. In the morning if you like, but not tonight." He paused again. "Cast a Garner-Stills. That should put them off." He paused again. "No, he's not here. He's out. I'll speak to you in the morning." Bryn hung up the phone.

"She asked to speak to me?" Lennox asked.

Bryn nodded. "I don't want her here tonight."

"So you'll leave her to the wolves?" Lennox said.

Bryn's eyes were hard as sapphires as he stared at Lennox. Bryn said something in a weird language, and Lennox looked away. I held Georgia's limp hand. What had happened to my happy little town? Once upon a time, there were only four people with magic in town, my momma and aunt, and Bryn and Lennox. And they were all real quiet about the other world. No normal people in town ever had reason to suspect it existed. Now we had corpses rising from graves, werewolves in our bars, and vampires in our parks. Crime sprees and the occult in Duvall. This wasn't going to look good in the visitor's brochure.

Chapter 18.