Summoning Sebastian (10 page)

But Sebastian hovered over Colin's shoulder, his face drawn and mournful. For a moment, I resented him. This was perfect—why was he interrupting us? But then I caught his eyes with mine, and the pain there threatened to drown me.

“Don't,” he said. “Don't call me again.”

Colin's back stiffened under my hands. He still had a bit more control than I did, and said, “We have to,” without taking his gaze from mine, without moving out of the full-body embrace I still held him in.

“Don't. I don't want to hurt you.”

He reached out—I saw his hand crossing the distance, however far it was between his limbo and my existence—and I felt his fingers brush my cheek. The contact, light and ethereal as it was, set off yet another wave that pulled me under.

When I opened my eyes again, he was gone.

My hands tightened on Colin's shoulders. “We can't not,” I said. My voice sounded choked, like I was near tears, but I couldn't feel them anywhere else.

Colin nodded, his head moving against my temple. “We move ahead. We can't do anything else.”

He was still inside me. He took advantage of that fact and began to move again. Another advantage vampires have in the bedroom—their quick recovery time. Although I'd learned that particular skill wasn't consistent.

It was working right now, though. I buried my face in his shoulder and let him do his thing. And when the tears finally squeezed between my lashes, it was easy enough to blame them on the next wave of climax racking my body.

Nobody but me had to know I was actually crying.

C
hapter Ten

The Church of the Eternal is the only organization with a legitimate right to any texts in the vampire historical or spiritual canon. Humans simply have no right to the information found in these texts.
—Official statement, Church of the Eternal

B
y the time we meandered downstairs, Roland had left three messages on Colin's phone, which Colin had left on the kitchen counter. It was blinking impatiently, so he picked it up and tended to it while I made coffee and eggs.

He was listening intently, apparently on an actual phone call now instead of just wading through the voice mail. I quirked an eyebrow at him in question. He lifted a finger in a “just a second” gesture.

“H-hold on,” he said into the phone, stuttering through Roland's continued monologue. “Nim's here. You can tell her directly.”

I took the phone from him and listened. It didn't take long for my eyebrows to crawl up my forehead.

“That sounds—”

“I know,” she broke in. “I know it sounds ridiculous. But think about it, Nim.”

I thought for a second. In a weird way, she was making sense. “Yeah…” I finally said. “Okay. I think I get it.”

“So you'll do it?”

I took a long sip from my coffee cup, using the moment to roll the idea around in my brain. In the end, though, there was only one answer. “I'm not sure I have a choice.”

“Are you sure this is the way this is supposed to work?” I stared down at the marks Roland was inking on my chest with a Sharpie.

“Well…” she drawled out, then stopped with her tongue poking out between her lips as she navigated a particularly complex curlicue. “Based on the sequencing and the way it worked before, yes. This should do the trick. Honestly, an actual tattoo might work better, but this should do in a pinch.”

I squinted, the better to see what she was drawing. It wouldn't make a bad tat—it was a neat-looking design—but I wasn't up to that kind of a commitment. Especially since the symbol was magical in some way. Who knew what a permanent tat might do? I could turn into the Pied Piper of Ghost Vampire Town.

“Once we activate the talisman,” she explained, “this will draw him to you. Whoever made the original talisman charged it with an attack command. We won't do that. It's just a summons. And when we call, he'll go straight to you.”

“And once he's back among us, what do we do with him?”

“Well, that's the next part of the trick.” She leaned back to examine her handiwork. I couldn't get over the idea she was staring at my tits. “Once we have him, we can bind him to an object. It's a little like the way the talisman works, just a few steps more serious as far as the strength of the magic.” She glanced at the printed-out pattern she was following and shifted to start the next symbol in the sequence.

“What kind of an object are you binding him to?”

“I'm thinking a bottle.”

I blinked and had to fight back a laugh so Roland didn't draw random squiggly lines on me. “You're kidding, right?”

“No. Why would I be kidding?” She leaned back, her expression genuinely perplexed.

“Vampire in a bottle? If I rub him, will he grant me three wishes?”

“If you rub him right,” she answered with a leer. I'd walked right into that one. “We need to keep him under control,” Roland clarified. “This selection of symbols is a powerhouse now that we've figured them out. We can use them to keep him corralled, be sure he doesn't cause any trouble we don't want him to cause.”

I hadn't told Roland about the twilight encounter with Sebastian, when he'd told me not to call him. It might be time to bring it up.

“We saw him again tonight,” I mumbled. It was hard to discuss these things when I knew Roland knew Sebastian generally only appeared when Colin and I were getting funky.

Roland seemed unfazed. “Any new information?” She paused, again eyeing what she'd drawn, then the Sharpie pressed against my skin again.

“He told us not to call him. He's afraid he'll hurt us. Me. Maybe just me.” I frowned. That hadn't occurred to me at the time—who exactly he might have been worried about. Of course, I'd been in the middle of my fifth orgasm—or was it the sixth?—so who could blame me for missing a detail or two?

“It's a fair concern on his part,” Roland admitted. “But that's what all this is for. To protect you while we sort him out.”

“And there's no way to tell him that.” A sudden pall of depression sank over me. “What if he refuses to respond when we set the talisman?”

“I don't actually think that's an option for him.”

“But…” I stopped, my own thoughts not well-formed enough to commit to speaking them. But I suddenly had the horrible feeling none of this was going to work, that we were chasing straws, and that I would never, ever see Sebastian again.

Roland's hand settled on my shoulder, and her gaze met mine. I was pretty sure she was going to say something wise and comforting, but just then, the door opened. The homey smell of coffee preceded the sound of Colin's voice.

“Well, damn. I figured the two of you would be naked by now.”

So much for emotional bonding with Roland. Honestly, some days I'm eternally grateful Colin is such an asshole.

W
e'd chosen midnight as our target time. Whether because it was the witching hour or because it gave us plenty of time before to prepare and plenty of time after to sort out the results of our venture, I didn't know. To me, it had just seemed reasonable.

It had also seemed reasonable to summon Sebastian at the same location we'd used before. There was no point introducing a huge stack of new variables, had been my argument, and Roland had nodded and Colin hadn't protested.

So we arrived at eleven p.m. and parked across the street from the dispensary. Roland and I set up the talisman, burying it in the same flower pot, while Colin went in to talk to the shop owner.

“Your hands are shaking,” Roland said as I pushed dirt aside.

I didn't appreciate the observation, but she was right. My hands were trembling as I eased the dirt aside to make room for the amulet.

“It'll be all right,” she told me.

“You don't know that.” I arranged the amulet in a careful circle. As far as I knew, the positioning would have no effect on the spell, but it seemed right to observe some sort of ceremony. This was a big thing, this bringing a man back from the dead. Sebastian deserved more than just a rote run-through of a spell, a hope that symbols and concentration would do the trick. He deserved some care. Some love. He deserved more than to be called forth to do someone else's dirty work.

I didn't realize how angry I was becoming until Roland touched my arm. I looked down to see dirt wedged hard under my nails, the amulet half-covered, my hands shaking so hard I could barely control them.

“I can finish,” Roland said gently. “Why don't you go check on Colin?”

I shook my head. I didn't want to leave this spot. I was afraid if I didn't stay involved in every step of the process, something would go wrong. I was afraid something would go wrong anyway. I was terrified this wouldn't work, and that this was our last chance. That if this didn't work, I'd never see Sebastian alive again. That he would forever be under the control of whoever had him now, using him, forcing him to do things he would never do of his own volition.

And he was willing to take that chance because he was afraid of hurting me.

Suddenly it was all so much more than I could handle, more than I felt I could hold inside me. I pushed to my feet and shook the dirt off my hands, fighting back emotion so intense that if I let it go, I might never stop crying. Or screaming. I wasn't sure which.

“Okay,” I managed. “Okay.”

Her hand stroked down my arm gently, then squeezed a little. “If it's at all within my power, I won't let anything happen to him. I promise.”

I nodded. I could trust her. I knew I could. But it was so hard to walk away.

Colin was still inside the dispensary. I could see him through the window, talking to the vampire bouncer we'd seen before. The bouncer had thick arms folded over his chest and was nodding soberly as Colin spoke. They didn't seem on the verge of violence. I watched for a few seconds while I rubbed my hands on my jeans, trying to dislodge the majority of the dirt. Finally, my hands not shaking quite as frantically as they had been, I pushed the door open.

The bouncer turned toward me. “ID,” he said, more or less reflexively.

Colin countered with, “She's with me.”

“She looks like she's twelve,” the vampire shot back. “ID, please.”

“I'm not going to buy anything. I just want to know what was going on.” I pulled out my wallet, though, which I carried in my back pocket. I don't carry a purse most of the time—it's too bulky and inconvenient when I'm on the job. Or it was when I was working in collections. I'd fallen out of the habit and had never fallen back in.

The vamp peered at my ID, then back at me. “Well, you're older than twelve,” he conceded, handing the card back. “By quite a bit.”

“Oh, fuck yourself.” I shoved the card back into my wallet.

“You seem tense,” he countered. “You sure you don't want to buy something? A nice indica? Maybe a hybrid? Chill you out?”

Colin chuckled. At least the two of them pissing me off had gotten my mind off the panicking fear I'd been fighting. A little bit, anyway.

“He's got a point,” Colin said, and I punched him in the arm.

In response, he reached out and tucked me against him, his big hand firm on my shoulder. And the tears popped up again, because I could tell by the way he'd done it that he knew exactly what I was thinking, exactly why I was so prickly.

The vampire bouncer ran a look up and down us. “Oh!” he said suddenly. “You're the hooker from the other night. You looked older then.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Also? Not a hooker.”

“Of course not.” He seemed skeptical.

“She's my girlfriend,” said Colin, and the other vamp looked even more skeptical.

Before I could express my indignation, Colin said, apparently continuing their previous conversation, “So you'll let things play out?”

“I'll leave you alone as long as nothing's endangering my shop. You blow out my windows or anything and I'll have your ass.”

“If we do any damage, I'll pay for it,” Colin promised.

“Damn straight you will.” And then he looked me up and down as if calculating my value as currency.

“No,” said Colin and steered me back out onto the sidewalk.

Roland was walking toward us as if she too had gotten impatient with waiting.

“Are we ready?” If she was impatient, it didn't show in her tone or in her face, but I could tell she was at the very least edgy. It occurred to me I'd been probably spending too much time with her lately if I could read her body language to this extent. That was always a tricky proposition with vampires, especially the old ones.

“I'm ready,” Colin said. “Are you?”

Colin
did
sound impatient, but that was a default setting for him. Roland tipped her head toward me.

“Are you ready?”

“No,” I replied, “but I never will be, so let's get this the hell over with.”

We'd done the best we could, as far as preparation. I was, indeed, as ready as I'd ever be, but sadly that wasn't a very high level of ready. I felt suddenly awkward and out of place, standing there between Roland and Colin, the other vampire peering out through the glass door of the dispensary. A cool breeze caught my hair, brushed over my face, and suddenly every one of the black symbols on my skin seemed alive, like ice lying in lines on my body. Or like a tattoo gun was carving them into my skin. I shivered.

“You okay?” Colin moved closer to me, bumped my shoulder with his.

“Yeah. Let's just…get it done.”

I moved toward Roland, who lifted a hand as I approached her. “Where do I need to be?” I asked.

“Over here would be good.” She guided me by my elbow to stand near the place where we'd buried the talisman. “Are you ready?”

“You tell me.”

She gave a curt nod. “Then let's go.”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath of the cool night air. It wasn't exactly fresh, though, filled with the vague acidity of Denver's perpetual brown cloud and the skunkish/sweetish smell of pot wafting from the dispensary. The doughnut shop smelled more like stale grease tonight than doughnuts. I let the breath out and turned to face the planter. I could see the disturbed earth where we'd buried the thing, but there was no other indication anything unusual resided in the innocuous container.

What the hell was I doing out here in the middle of the night, in a terrible neighborhood, in front of a dispensary with crazy, obscure symbols written on my body in permanent marker? How was this my life? It was so strange, so not what I'd bargained for. Something tightened in my chest, a pressure like something twisted in there. My eyes went hot, tears gathering at the corners. A burning sensation grew just over my breastbone. God, I missed Sebastian so much. I could have just collapsed there, folded up into a ball, weeping.

Then I realized what I was feeling. It was the magic. The amulet, the symbols—maybe Sebastian himself—were calling to each other, and I was feeling it in my body, on my skin.

Fleetingly, I wondered if I would survive it.

Then everything started happening very fast, and it was all I could do to stay on my feet.

There was a rush of wind, like a localized tornado pulse, between me and the planter. The amulet itself rose out of the soil, spinning in the vortex. A good amount of dirt out of the planter followed, spinning so that a portion of it scoured my face. Thanks for the exfoliation.