Kiss at Your Own Risk (13 page)

“Black witches?”

Blaine shifted so suddenly in the doorway that all three women turned and looked at him. He scowled. “Black witches leave something to be desired,” he muttered.

“I agree.” Cherise shook her head. “There’s just something effeminate about a male witch. I need a man.”

“How about a dead guy?” Elise suggested.

Cherise wrinkled her nose. “I get that a dead man can’t cause trouble, but necrophilia isn’t my thing.”

“I meant vampires,” Elise said. “I was at a black tie fundraiser the other day for saving the Woldsmith Cemetery, and I met at least seven vampires. All of them were completely hairless and wearing designer suits. No tails, and they were wearing only silk. No wool at all.”

Cherise frowned. “I’m kind of blood-averse.”

“Maybe you just haven’t encountered blood in the right situation,” Elise said. “There’s something pretty sexy about a couple of puncture wounds on your inner thigh. You know, how he’s got to lick them to seal the wound and all… and then his tongue starts to wander…”

Cherise’s eyes widened. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Trinity thought of being on the bike with Blaine. Of the way her thighs had wrapped around his hips… the feel of his body between her legs… the deep vibration of the engine… the way his hand clamped down on her thigh, anchoring her around him. She glanced over at him and saw he was studying her. His eyes were dark, his expression hooded. But a slow spiral of smoke was rising from his chest. Oh, wow.

“Maybe it’s time to branch out,” Reina said. “Vampires might rip your throat out, but they’re way too classy to eat your fish or tear up your pillows.”

“That does sound good.” Cherise nodded and sat up. “Okay, I think it might be worth a try.” She took a deep breath and gave them a trembly smile. “I can do this, right? Walk away from the werewolves?”

“I know you can.” Trinity smiled, trying not to look toward Blaine, but she could feel his stare boring down at her. “You’ll find the right guy. Just be patient.”

“And hide the fish,” Reina added.

“I will.” Cherise held up her arms and hugged Trinity. “Thank you so much for coming,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Trinity smiled. This was why she worked here. Because there was no feeling as good as helping women find their way to true love. She could live vicariously through them, and it felt good to help others. Yes, it made her uncomfortable to be lauded for her past, but at the same time, if it could help one woman, then that was one moment in which she could stop hating what she was and what she’d done. “Of course I’ll always come. You know I will.”

Cherise set her handbag in Trinity’s lap. “You keep this. I was going to do what you did, but now I think I can manage without it.”

Trinity took the bag and peeked inside. A gun was in there. She went cold. “Cherise—”

“I knew you would understand,” Cherise said. “No one else here knows what it’s like to want to kill the man you love, but I knew you’d get it.” She hugged her. “Thank you for everything.” She smiled. “I know I can—” She froze suddenly, looking past Trinity’s shoulder. “By all that’s hairy and fanged, who is
that?”

“The fire guy?” Trinity stiffened, not liking the way Cherise was looking in Blaine’s direction, as if she wanted to start dancing naked with him. “He’s with me,” she blurted out, then winced when she saw Reina raise her brows. Oops. That had sounded a wee bit possessive, hadn’t it? “I mean—”

“No, not him.” Cherise pointed. “
Him.
”

Reina looked past Trinity, and her eyes widened. “Oh, cactus balls. He’s back.”

“He, who?” Trinity caught the sudden scent of rotten bananas, and she whirled around in time to see Augustus charge through the doorway. Something pink flashed in his hand, and then a six-pointed star was hurtling right at her face.

She had no time to duck.

He was going to dust her.

Blaine had no idea who the stinky rot was who’d just busted through the front door of the chick palace, and he’d never seen a flying girlie star, but it took him less than a split second to figure out that his ticket to Christian’s freedom was about to get some serious harming done to her. “Down now!”

He threw an orange fireball at the star, and it ignited the thing, and then it kept on trucking, right for Trinity. No time to try another color. He launched himself through the air, and he landed between the torpedo and Trinity just in time for the cotton candy wannabe to plow right into his chest.

The pain was instant and blinding, and it dropped him to his knees before he had a chance to recover.

“Blaine!” Trinity scrambled to her feet and raced toward him.

“Don’t touch him!” Reina intercepted Trinity as she lunged for him. “That stuff might be contagious, and you can’t do any good if you get dusted.”

Blaine looked down and saw that his chest had turned pink. He’d never thought of pink as an instrument of pain. The witch would love this trick—

Agony ripped through his gut, and he hunched over. Screw that. He wasn’t being taken down by some chick-colored weapon. Even the witch had the respect to use manly colored weapons.

“Let me go!” Trinity was screaming now, fighting to get to him, and didn’t that just make him go all soft and woolly inside.

Then he saw the slump-backed assailant reach into his pocket, and a flash of pink peeked out of the edge. He was going for take two? No chance, fruity boy.

“Get behind me,” he ordered.

Trinity turned to see what he was looking at, yelped when she saw the second star, then ducked behind Blaine. Again with the trusting him to take care of her problems. He could so get into that.

Blaine immediately set himself on fire and sent the flames sweeping through his body, exactly as he’d done to cleanse the schnoodemgon poison gas. He gritted his teeth against the pain, and felt his body continuing to weaken. Apparently, the cleansing fire wasn’t going to be quite as successful in this situation. Note to self: pink = bad news for men.

He fought harder, drilled heat into the flames until they were white-hot, and finally the pain in his chest switched from icy cold numbness to the searing burn that indicated all his internal organs had caught fire. He felt his muscles return to life. Back in business, baby!

The invader whipped out the star, and Blaine leapt to his feet. He shot a white fireball, and then a green one, but nothing worked as he charged across the room. The bastard was still on his feet when Blaine tackled him into the wall. The plaster crumbled around them as Blaine fought the wiry scrap for control of his little pointed weapon.

Took longer than he liked, and his wrist got nicked, but he finally had the guy face down on the floor in a headlock. He sat on the dude and pinned his wrists under Blaine’s knees, the star sitting harmlessly on the floor next to the guy’s face. “Say uncle.”

Trinity peeked out from behind the table. “You got him?”

“Sure did.” Blaine felt pressure building under him, and realized the guy was amassing energy of some sort. He had no clue what was going to happen when the guy erupted, and he wasn’t about to risk Trinity, and it wasn’t like he had time to figure out what color fire would work on him, if any. “Go get on my bike,” he ordered. “We’re leaving.”

“No. Not yet!” Trinity ran over and knelt beside Blaine’s captive.

Did the woman have no sense? Yeah, he had the guy secured right now, but something was brewing and it wasn’t going to be primroses and pansies. Granted, he was so getting off on her complete faith in his ability to manage the bad guy, but he wasn’t sure exactly what he was dealing with yet. “Get back.”

Trinity ignored Blaine and looked right at his captive. “Why did you come after me, Augustus?”

The dude twisted his lumpy head. “I have yet to determine how you succeeded in convincing the Triumvirate to divest me of your father in return for that monster’s heart—”

Trinity shook her head. “No, no. I didn’t talk them into anything. They brought it up to me!”

“But,” Augustus continued, “I have never given up my prey and I’m not going to start. The only way to break the contract is for you to die, so that’s got to happen.”

Trinity paled. “Oh, wow, that’s really not what I was hoping to hear.”

Blaine ground his knee into the man’s kidney, but the assassin just smiled, a thin, creepy grin. “You won’t make it to Sunday, Trinity Harpswell. I never lose.”

“Well, if that’s not just melodrama—” Blaine felt his body begin to tingle where it was pressed against his captive’s. Fantastic. Black magic. Building fast. What the hell was this guy? “All right, buddy. Time to cap your ass—”

“No!” Trinity grabbed Blaine’s arm as he was about to fire up some sparks. “Don’t kill him.”

Blaine stared at her. “Are you kidding? He’s angling to kill you, and he’s got some sort of powerful shit going on. I don’t want to wait around for a tea party when he finishes whatever game he’s preparing right now.”

“No! I can’t just kill people.” She jumped to her feet. “We’ll take care of the monster before Augustus finds me. Then it’s over.”

Blaine’s palms began to throb where he was pinning the bastard down, and he knew without looking that thousands of microscopic pinholes were bleeding out his palms. That’s how his reaction to black magic always started. “We don’t want to mess with him—”

“Then let’s go!” Trinity started backing toward the door. “Come on, Blaine. We don’t have much time.”

As if there was any chance he was leaving this guy alive. Blaine ignored her and sent a testing spark into his captive’s body. The dude shuddered, and then the magic intensified. Son of a bitch. The scumbag had just tapped into the black magic roots of Blaine’s fire and fed on it.

That was bad news. Even Angelica hadn’t been able to feed on it. What was this dude? He didn’t know, but he knew one thing: Any attempt to use fire on him would only make him stronger. Which meant that he wasn’t going to be toasting this guy into oblivion anytime soon without doing some serious research on how to deal with him.

He needed to regroup with his team to find out what they were fighting here, and he needed to do it fast.

He looked at Trinity, who had paused on the threshold. “Go get on my bike. Now.”

“But what about Augustus? He’s going to come after us. Can you tie him up or something?”

“Tie him up?” Blaine echoed. “That’s not going to hold him…” Or… maybe he could do something just as good though. If Augustus could feed off Blaine’s black magic, maybe Blaine could return the favor. Deprive Augustus of his black magic by sucking it into his own body, the way he’d absorbed the fire when Trinity had gone sparkly. No guarantees that it would make Blaine stronger, like it had with Augustus, but it wasn’t like he wanted to dine on the guy. He just wanted to weaken him long enough for them to take off.

Yeah, he was liking that. Absorbing some black magic into his body couldn’t be worse than some of the fun he’d had with Angelica, right? “Bottoms up,” he muttered, and then he placed his hands on the sumbitch’s head and opened himself up to the poison he’d been fighting his whole life.

***

Trinity gasped as Blaine’s skin turned ashen, and then his eyes rolled back in his head. He was gripping Augustus’s head, and the air around them filled with a murky, green smoke. Augustus was struggling beneath him, but Blaine was holding him still with brute strength. “Blaine?”

He shook his head once, and the muscles in his arms flexed. Augustus’s body convulsed, and then he let out a loud moan, and then went limp.

Blaine released Augustus’ head with a grunt, and then fell forward on his hands. His skin was gray, and his hair was smoking. “Blaine?”

“I’m good.” He lurched to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“Augustus isn’t dead. He’ll be up again soon.” Reina ran up. “That’s such bad news if he’s after you for his own personal vendetta.”

“I know.” Trinity caught Blaine’s arm as he stumbled. “Help me get Blaine outside.”

Reina grabbed the warrior’s other arm and they began to help him toward the front door. He tripped again, and they had to fight to keep him on his feet. “Damn, girl, he’s heavier than your dad. What’s up with you picking up some well-muscled warrior as an appendage?”

“I’m fine,” Blaine muttered. But his eyes were closed and his muscles were trembling.

“I’ll help.” Elise ran over and slung Blain’s arm over her shoulder. She was so tall that she was able to support him. “What’s going on, Trinity? What can I do for you?”

“Nothing. I just need to—”

“Hello?” Cherise’s cheerful voice filled the room.

Trinity looked over her shoulder as Cherise sat down beside Augustus and tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me, sir. Are you okay?”

“For heaven’s sake, Cherise,” Trinity said. “Even a werewolf is better than Augustus.”

“Did you see what he did to your guy? Very impressive.” Cherise patted his cheek. “I’m just going to make sure he wakes up okay.”

“Cherise—”

“For heaven’s sake, Trinity,” Reina snapped. “Stop trying to save yourself by helping everyone else in the world. Leave Cherise to her own bad choices. You need to get out of here!”

Blaine pulled out of their grasp. “I can walk,” he snorted, and promptly careened sidewise into the wall. “Shit.”

“Stop being a hero,” Trinity said. “Let’s go.”

“I like being a hero,” he muttered.

“Of course he does,” Reina said. “He’s a man. They all get off on that.” She eyed Trinity as they half-carried him out to the curb. “So, you going to tell me where you picked him up, and why in Death’s name you’d do something so risky right now?”

“It’s not risky. He’s a jerk. No way I can like him.” Together, the three women got Blaine out to his bike, and he managed to swing his leg over the seat.

“Screw that,” Blaine muttered. “I’m awesome.” He tried to grab the handlebars and missed completely.

Trinity set his hands on the grips. He grasped them and let his head fall forward, as if he were about to take a little nap. “I need him,” she said. “He’s going to kill the Chameleon for me.”

Reina’s eyebrows shot up. “In exchange for what?”

“Help with a little project.”

Reina grabbed her arm. “What kind of help? This guy doesn’t care about you. He—”

“I’ve got it covered,” Trinity interrupted. “Trust my judgment.”

Reina let out her breath. “Look at him, Trin. He can’t even sit up, let alone keep you safe—”

Smoke began to pour from Blaine’s chest, and he lifted his head. Pockets of small flames danced in his eyes. Sparks danced on his shoulders, and Trinity sensed a burning strength within him. “I’m good,” he said, his voice much stronger. “Let’s go.”

“Oh, hello,” Cherise’s voice drifted out through the open door. “My name is Cherise. Would you like some coffee to help you perk up?”

Trinity exchanged nervous glances with Reina. Augustus was waking up!

“Go!” Reina backed up. “I’ll hear the details later.” She poked Blaine. “And you. Keep the bike upright, okay? That’s my best friend you’ve got on there with you.”

He levered a hard look at Reina. “I’ll keep her safe.”

Reina’s eyes widened and then she grinned. “Yeah, I bet you will, won’t you?”

Trinity leapt on behind Blaine and wrapped an arm around his waist. His skin was hot, burning through his clothes, as if he had a fever. She hesitated. “Are you going to set me on fire again?”

“No.” The bike roared to life, and he didn’t hesitate.

He just peeled out on the motorcycle, and Trinity had to hug him to keep from sliding backwards. The machine vibrated between her legs, and her hair began to whip, and then he was peeling down the street. The bike wobbled for a split second, and she caught her breath, then it lurched forward, and they were off.

To where?

And was it going to be far enough to get away from Augustus?

That was such bad news. They didn’t have until Sunday anymore. They had hours. Minutes. Seconds. Until Augustus found her again.

The monster had to die. And fast. But as a shudder went through Blaine and the bike wobbled again, she knew they were in big-time trouble.

***

Angelica was utterly dismayed to see that Napoleon looked exactly the same as he had the last time she’d seen him. How did three centuries of amoral womanizing, black magicking, and self-indulgence not give a man a saggy butt or a potbelly?

But no, he was still tall (taller, even? He looked near six and a half feet now), well-muscled, and he had all his hair. He was wearing a black suit even more expensive than her grandson’s, his eyes were still that compelling blue, and he still had that perfect amount of five o’clock shadow decorating his jaw.

At the sight of the man she’d loved so deeply, for so long, something bubbled deep inside her, something she hadn’t felt since that day he’d walked into her gym class, looked right at her, and said he’d come for her, in that deep, resonating voice. It was that indefinable spark that made her feel like a woman, like a cherished female, like a sexual being with more fire inside her than any living being should be able to generate.

He flashed those perfect white teeth at her. “My dear. It’s so lovely to see you.”

Angelica swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. She couldn’t think of what to say. How to speak.

Prentiss folded his arms over his chest. “Hey, Gramps.”

But Napoleon didn’t take his eyes off Angelica, gazing at her as if he couldn’t go another moment without drinking her into his soul. She felt her skin begin to heat up. Anyone have a fan?

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly. “I’ve missed you.”

A small squeak made its way out of her throat. He’d missed her? Was he sorry? Did he still love her? “Napoleon—”

“Cut the shit, old man.” Prentiss moved in front of her, feet spread, shoulders back. His fighting stance. “Don’t mess with my grandma.”

Angelica blinked as her grandson cut off her view of Napoleon. By all that was sexy and bad news, what was she doing? She wasn’t taking him back! She didn’t care if he’d missed her! Under no circumstances was she giving him the power to turn her back into the sniveling wuss she’d worked so hard to leave behind. No. Chance.