“Yeah, I know.” Eve kissed the top of her head. “I should probably negotiate for sexual favors, but… the reality wouldn’t live up to what you do in my head each night.”
“You are a kinky, twisted, and slightly evil friend, do you know that?”
“I wasn’t before all the vampires.”
“Yeah. You really were.”
They grinned at each other.
“Okay,” Cally said. “Let’s give this spell a go.”
“Great.” Eve released her, all business, and went to light the candles. “You saw the bit in the instructions where the Source has to be naked, right?”
“I won’t deign to give that a response.”
Eve tutted. “No fun. So, come and sit in the middle. I’m going to hide…” She swiped Cally’s phone off the bed. “Close your eyes so you can’t peek.”
Cally stepped carefully over the circle Eve had painted, and sat in the center, eyes closed. “I feel ridiculous.”
“Okay, I’ve hidden it,” Eve said after a moment. “Here’s the obsidian.” She passed it over. “And a pin.” It came in a plastic bag, in true Eve form, and Cally knew it would be sterile.Ironic, when I’m immune to infection.
Eve curled up in her chair. “Don’t mind the audience.”
“Don’t expect anything dramatic.” Cally pricked her finger, wiped it on the obsidian, then focused. “Fáinne draíochta, soiléir go léir, faigh an caillteanach, tabhair chugam aréir.”
Nothing. Just as she’d expected. She shot Eve a hopeless look.
“First time out. Have faith, girlie. Try it with your eyes closed?”
Twenty-Seven
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened.
Antoine braced himself, not sure what to expect. Gabriel himself? An army of thralls?
But there was only one, and he bowed. “This way please, sir.”
The entrancehall wasn’t to his taste; too much marble and gold, like something befitting a Roman temple. But the thrall showed him into a room of modern chic: hardwood, scatter rugs, three cream sofas, and a wall dedicated to an LP collection.
The man himself lay on his weight bench, the barbell loaded with more plates than looked practical. He wore only a pair of shorts, and his skin gleamed with sweat. He noticed Antoine and gave a deliberate flex, a ripple of muscle that drew the eye.
“Is that effective?” Antoine asked.
“Not so much of late.” Gabe lifted the bar for the last time and set it on its rack, then sat up, his gaze running over Antoine in quick assessment, lingering a heartbeat too long his face, as though reassuring himself he was truly standing there. “Welcome back, my friend. I’d clasp your arm, but I need a shower first. How are you feeling? Fully recovered?”
“Getting by.” Antoine wasn’t sure what reception he would receive, but if this was an act, it was a convincing one. Where was the standard greeting? He kept his expression neutral. “Your trust is met with solemn commitment.”
Gabe waved it away. “We don’t need that between friends, do we? It’s at times like this that I miss human customs.” He rose, picking up a towel and hanging it around his shoulders, using the end of it to mop his face. “I feel like offering you a beer. We can’t exactly share a chattel, can we?”
“Not on cream sofas, no.” It was a neat sidestep of their customs. Was the omission some kind of inferred threat, or was he as genuine as he appeared? “I gather my stay as the ocean’s guest was shortened considerablydue to your efforts.”
“You would’ve done the same for me. I’m only sorry that it took so long.” Gabriel’s face clouded. “My friend, there is something I need to tell you. Something I need to… beg your forgiveness for.”
That was the last thing Antoine expected. “Oh?”
“Eight days ago, while you were… sleeping with the fishes”—despite his serious demeanor, Gabe allowed a teasing grin—“Cally came to me. She told me an unbelievable story that she is a witch, and you both have formed a bond.”
“She did, huh?”
