Chapter 3

Grey

Cyrenthia and Mordaca turned toward us, the two blood sorceresses grinning widely. It was an eerie effect, blood lust gleaming in their eyes.

"Thank you for transferring the money so quickly," Mordaca said. "Shall we get started?"

I inclined my head. The money had been the least of it. The journey to find this spell had taken me three miserable days, every step of it shadowed with doubt.

The truth of the matter was . . . I didn't want to be parted from Carrow. Breaking our bond made my heart shrivel inside my chest into a shape even smaller than it had been before.

Yet, it was the only way.

I didn't want to be dragged to hell. And I didn"t want to return to the blood lust I'd felt as a turned vampire. All my desperate research suggested that as my strength waned and the grip of hell became stronger, my desire to feed on her would grow—possibly to the point that I couldn't control it. I could still remember the early days, when I'd been nothing but a rabid mess of hunger, rampaging across Transylvania, more animal than man.

No.

No matter what it cost, I would not subject Carrow to that.

She deserved better than me, anyway. This would allow her to find it.

"Well?" Cyrenthia raised a brow, and I jerked slightly, realizing that they were waiting for my attention.

"Apologies." I was never caught daydreaming—yet here I was.

This needed to happen fast.

"What do you need from us?" I asked.

"A bit of your blood." Cyrenthia looked down at the ancient scroll I'd retrieved for her. "We'll take care of the rest."

Carrow was already drawing her dagger from her pocket. Mordaca brought over an onyx bowl, and Cyrenthia hurried to the wall of shelves and began to collect various tiny vials of liquid and powder. While Carrow cut into her vein, I pierced my wrist with my fangs. We both allowed a thin stream of liquid to drip into the bowl that Mordaca held. Cyrenthia worked at the table, combing various ingredients in a larger cauldron.

Mordaca joined her, adding our blood to the mix. She watched Cyrenthia work, dark brows raised and scarlet lips pursed.

"Quit judging," Cyrenthia said.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Mordaca sounded sincere, but her eyes sparkled with laughter. She bit her lip, clearly wanting to comment on Cyrenthia's technique.

"It's ready for you." Cyrenthia stepped back from the cauldron.

Mordaca stepped up, raising her hand over the cauldron. She sliced her thumb with one of her long, pointed nails, shaking her hand a bit so that her blood could pour into the cauldron. She held her hand carefully, not allowing us to see the blood itself, but there was something strange about it. My vampire senses picked up on it, but I couldn't identify where the oddness came from. Cyrenthia added her blood next.

Carrow leaned close and murmured. "Why do they add their blood?"

"There is magic in their blood. It's what makes the spell work, and it's why we needed Mordaca. She's one of the most powerful blood sorceresses in the world."

"Yet she doesn't live here?"

"She lives in Magic's Bend, Oregon. One of the largest all-magical cities in America."

Cyrenthia finished contributing her blood, then picked up the cauldron and carried it to the fire. Instead of hooking the vessel onto the hanger over the flames so that it could heat, she dumped the entire contents onto the flames.

As it hissed and sizzled, she and Mordaca began to chant ancient words in a language long dead. Their voices rose in a low, vibrating hum as magic began to spark in the air. The flames roared higher, a dark smoke coalescing over them.

The smoke condensed, drawing in on itself until it was black as midnight. It grew heavy, the cloud lowering over the flames.

"It's ready." Cyrenthia held the now empty cauldron over the flames, right beneath the cloud of heavy black smoke. The smoke liquefied itself, pouring back into the cauldron.

"Wow." Carrow whistled low. "I didn't realize physics could work like that."

"Magic, darling. Not physics." Mordaca smiled. "I think it is time I took my leave. My beauty sleep calls me."

It was mid-morning in Oregon by now, but that was Mordaca.

She strolled to the mirror. Before stepping in, she threw a glance over her shoulder. "Be careful what you wish for. You may find that the results are not what you desire."

A scowl crept across my face. Damned cryptic sorcerers. Of course I didn't wish for these results, but they were necessary.

With a grin, she stepped back through the mirror and disappeared.

Cyrenthia brought the cauldron to us, along with two silver ladles. "Now, all you must do is drink."

Carrow's gaze flicked to mine. "Is it really that easy to fix all of this?"

"Easy?" Cyrenthia scoffed. "Do you see how hellish he looks? He walked into the bowels of the place itself to get this spell, and nothing about my magic is easy. Not to mention, the magic of your bond is powerful. You'll feel it when it is gone, and you will mourn."

"I apologize." Her gaze caught mine, worry flickering in her eyes. "Are we doing this now?"

"Yes." Memories of the night last week flashed in my mind. It had been the best night of my life. Not solely because of the act, but because of how it felt.

Those feelings would be lost now. After a drought of emotion for hundreds of years, I should be used to that state. Hell, I should welcome it back. Life was simpler and easier that way, certainly.

Yet, I dreaded it.

Fate seemed to be pulling at my arm as I raised it to take the ladle, trying to drag me backward. I resisted, taking the utensil. Carrow took hers as well.

"Drink at the same time," Cyrenthia said.

I nodded, dipping my ladle and retrieving some of the potion. Carrow grimaced and did the same.

"Don't be a ninny," Cyrenthia said. "It's no big deal to drink a little blood."

"Frankly, that sounds insane," Carrow said. "But I'm not from your world, so I'm going to trust you."

"You'd better." Cyrenthia scowled.

Carrow almost scowled back—her nose wrinkled just slightly, and her eyes narrowed—but she smoothed her features and nodded. I could feel how on edge she was. The tension vibrated off her.

Did she not want to break the bond?

Of course she did. That was ridiculous.

But maybe . . . just maybe . . . she felt the tiniest bit of regret for what might have been. It all but swallowed me alive.

"Now?" I asked, forcing myself toward the task.

"Now." She raised her ladle.

We drank, maintaining eye contact. The potion was sweet and sour at the same time, and I swore I could taste the faintest hint of Carrow's blood. The beast roared inside, me, but I forced it back, aided by the potion that raced through my body.

Magic sparked along every nerve ending, shooting through muscle and bone. When it happened, I felt it, so strong and fierce.

The bond broke, like a great tree snapping in the middle and tumbling to the ground. Loss surged through me, followed by despair.

I stiffened, clenching my jaw.

I must get ahold of myself.

This kind of reaction was unacceptable.

But the bond was broken. I could feel it. The invisible threads of fate that had bound us together were severed, and their absence was like a lost limb.

Carrow's eyes flickered, but it was impossible to read them. She raised a hand toward my face, and I nearly leaned into her touch. Before she made contact, she closed her fist and lowered her hand. "You look better."

I caught sight of my reflection in one of the mirrors, and the change was obvious. The weight that I'd lost had returned, and I looked like myself again.

Cyrenthia frowned at us, her gaze flicking back and forth.

"What?" I asked.

"Your bond . . . it is severed, but . . . You must be careful. Do not spend much time together. You must not fall for each other, or I can't guarantee that fate won't reassert itself."

It was like a punch to the gut.

Of course we couldn't be around each other. I shouldn't even assume that Carrow would want that. But . . .

To face it.

My future looked bleak without her, an endless dark tunnel that pressed in on me.

"Sure." Carrow smiled. "Thank you for the help."

Cyrenthia nodded, her gaze still glued on us. It burned.

"Come." I nodded my thanks to Cyrenthia and turned. "We should go."

"There's no we any longer," Cyrenthia said.

Of course. I turned back to Carrow, unable to believe it all ended here, in a shite part of town with a blood sorceress watching our corpses with the avarice of a vulture. "Goodbye, Carrow."

She blinked, looking almost surprised, then hurried after me out of the shop.

* * *

Carrow

Grey moved quickly out of Cyrenthia's place, and I had to hustle to keep up. My chest felt so . . .strange.

I'd felt the bond break. It had snapped like a twig, leaving me feeling empty and hollow. Cyrenthia said I would feel its absence, and that I would mourn.

She was right.

Yet, Grey wasn't a stranger to me. I still cared. True, the insane pull toward him that I'd been feeling had vanished. That heavy hand of fate.

But I still felt for him—how could I not?

We could just never be together, or the curse might return. Pain pierced my heart.

Yet he was so much healthier looking now. This had been worth it. We'd had no other choice.

I caught up with him about halfway down the alley, squeezing alongside him. He looked down, surprised. "We shouldn"t spend time together."

"I-I know." I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I risk your life by pushing."

He spun toward me, his entire form vibrating with suppressed emotion. "It's not that. You shouldn't be so confident in my strength."

"You would never hurt me." I'd tried to get him to take my blood when I'd lain dying, and he'd refused. "You would never do what fate compels you to."

"I wouldn't. But there is a beast inside me, Carrow. The vampire within is not always controlled by the man. As my strength waned these last days, the beast fought to rise, as it had in the past. You weren't there then, but when the beast gains control and is driven by blood lust, there is no fighting it. I can't guarantee that I would not turn on you."

He loomed over me, and my back pressed against the wall. All around, the tall buildings rose high, overhanging the street and creating a tunnel. I should have been afraid, but I couldn't be.

"You wouldn't hurt me." I knew it. Just like I knew that the alternative to hurting me was his death. Cyrenthia was right. We couldn't be around each other. We couldn't fall for each other. "I never should have followed you. I'm sorry."

He drew in an unsteady breath and stepped backward, composing himself. "I apologize for losing my temper."

I nodded and, together, we left the alley in silence. As soon as we stepped onto the brighter main street, a woman appeared in front of us.

Mary, my witch friend. Her magenta eyes were wild, and her pink hair messy. She wore a glittery silver dress that was more suited to midnight than the middle of the day, but the witches marched to the beat of their own drummer.

"Hi, Mary."

"Carrow." Her tone was frantic. "You need to help me. Beth has been taken."

"Beth?" I hadn't seen the other witch in a few days. "Taken? What do you mean?"

"She was taken right off the street." Her voice shook. "We're looking for her, of course, but nothing is working. It's just been so . . . so . . ."

Her words trailed off, and her wild eyes searched the alley around us.

"Come here. Let's sit down." She really needed a seat. So did I. Beth was one of my friends. Worry made my heart race. I gestured for her to follow me toward a small garden that was nestled between two buildings across the street. A bench beckoned.

All around the bench, roses climbed up the wall of the tiny garden. A little fountain burbled in front of it and, as we sat on the bench, dozens of roses unfurled, opening to the late-afternoon sun. Faerie lights sparkled inside of them, glowing with magic as their heavenly scent filled the air.

Grey followed, his brow creased. He hovered at the entrance to the garden, watching us with concern. He really should have been on his way back to his place, but I didn't have the heart to tell him to scram. Not like I could control his actions anyway. And he knew what was at stake.

"Tell me what's wrong." I searched her frantic eyes.

Mary drew in a shuddering breath. "Beth was abducted. The whole guild is trying to find her, but we need help."

"Abducted?" No. Not Beth. Fear pierced me, cold and horrible. And two in the same night? And both on my doorstep? "From where? By whom?"

"We were out partying. It was late, and we were walking home. Beth thought she might be sick, so she dipped into Hangman's Alley. She was only there a moment when a bloke with red eyes nabbed her. Dragged her right through an orange portal."

Holy crap.

Serial kidnappings.

There was no way the two were unrelated. Not with the red eyes and orange portal.

Grey leaned forward from his spot by the garden entrance. "Red eyes, you say?"

Mary nodded frantically. "Unlike anything I've ever seen. They burned like fire."

Recognition flashed in Grey's eyes.

"You know something about this?" I asked, hope flaring.

Mary cringed back, as if recognizing the Devil of Darkvale for the first time. Her voice was tremulous when she said, "You."

"Not I, if that's what you're implying," Grey said. "I did not kidnap your friend. It is not quite the business I am in."

Her pale face did not regain any color, and it reminded me of Grey's reputation around town. I'd gotten to know him well enough that I didn't think much of it any longer, but he was still the most powerful kingpin in all of Guild City. Also, the most feared.

I turned back to Mary. "Is there anything else you can tell me about the abduction? Anything left at the scene, perhaps?"

"No, I checked. Then the whole guild checked just for good measure. Not even a shard of the transport charm on the ground."

"They vaporize when used," Grey said.

"Right." Mary nodded. "There was nothing. Beth was there one moment and gone the next."

I leaned back against the bench, my mind racing. I needed leads. More than just red eyes and orange portals. There was already a lot at stake, but with Beth also

abducted . . .

This had become so much more important.

My gaze flicked to Grey, who was clearly chewing on something inside his mind. He recognized something about this.

I rubbed Mary's shoulder. "Beth wasn't the only one abducted last night, and I'm already trying to find who's responsible. What are you and the guild doing?"

"Searching spells, mostly. We're scrying to try to find her, but it's not working."

"Keep it up," I said. "Anything helps. And I'm going to start looking for Beth immediately."

"Thank you, Carrow." She hugged me tight. "I knew you would."

"Of course. Beth's my friend."

Mary stood, still shaking, and disappeared down the street.

Grey moved aside so he could leave the garden but didn't come to sit next to me. I stood, staring at him. "What do you know?"

"I know who's responsible for the kidnappings—or at least, whose goons did the dirty work."

Elation jumped. "Tell me!"

"Not here." His gaze flicked to the wall of roses behind me.

I looked back at the gorgeous flowers, my skin prickling with wariness. The walls have eyes. The old saying came to mind, and I rose. "Come on. We'll go back to my place. I'm waiting for Mac to come back from the other crime scene."

He nodded, and together we strode down the street toward my flat. We walked in silence, which was for the best.

About halfway to my flat, I said, "We're not far from Hangman's Alley, are we?"

"Only a couple streets over."

"Let's check it out real quick. Maybe I'll get something." I cut through the streets, grateful for my sense of direction. I didn't know the entire town yet, but I knew a lot of it, especially the part around my flat.

Hangman's Alley was a tiny little thing, an empty alley devoid of shops or bins. I definitely wasn't surprised that it was frequently used as an impromptu loo by drunken kids.

We reached it a moment later, and I slipped into the cool, dark space. It was only a few feet wide, so narrow that it seemed pointless. And, of course, it smelled of wee.

I held my nose and ran my hands along the stone wall.

Please, please show me something.