Dread pooled in her belly. As the subject of Viansa’s particular brand of “fixation” for the first eighteen years of her life, Jaci knew it all too well.
If Viansa succeeded—if she actually manifested in the earthly realm—not only would Jaci likely lose her father and be dragged back to hell for eternal torture, but humanity itself didn’t stand much of a chance either.
“It won’t come to that,” Jaci said, assuring herself as much as she assured Meech. “I’ll figure something out. A binding spell or dream hex or… something. I know I will.”
The dimples reappeared as Meech grinned again, her black eyes shining with affection. “I know you will, girl. But maybe speed it up a little? Or a lot?”
“Already on it.” Jaci forced a laugh, but inside, her stomach was twisting itself into a pretzel. Finding her father’s soul was a difficult enough prospect—she’d already been working tirelessly for seven years on the locator spell and still hadn’t gotten it right. Extracting it from hell was another challenge. But binding her crazy sister? Stopping her from whatever path of destruction she’d set her mind to?
And how much time did she have now, anyway? How long until Viansa brought her evil from the sheets straight to the streets?
“I’ve got this,” she said anyway.
“You’ve got this.” Meech blew her a kiss, and with Jaci’s promise to check in again soon, they said their goodbyes. She cleaned up the evidence of the summoning, hiding a few of the larger glass shards in a stack of towels in the linen closet. Thanks to the demon blood coursing through her body, her hand would heal by morning, but for now, she washed it and wrapped it in some gauze, pulling her sweatshirt sleeve down to hide the bandage from Gabriel’s spy cams.
Back in the kitchen, armed with a fresh mug of cinnamon-vanilla tea and some spicy dark chocolate she’d found in the pantry, Jaci recalibrated her mission.
Save Dad. Bind Viansa. And… fast-forward to the part where she’s sipping strawberry daiquiris on the beach, her old life nothing but a fading memory.
The plan was still the plan, just like she’d said.
But now it was a little more complicated.
And it had to happen ahellof a lot faster.
Chapter Six
Three days. That’s how long Gabriel had managed to avoid the witch. Three days and three sleepless nights, torturing himself with the memory of those vexing blue eyes, of his hands on her body, his lips on her neck…
With every breath, he swore he could still smell the woman on his skin.
Fucking witches.
Why he’deverthought this was a good idea was beyond him. Perhaps he’d suffered a head injury in battle.
He flipped open his laptop, queuing up the video feeds from Jacinda’s apartment, situated just one floor below his new penthouse. He’d purchased the fifteen-story building a couple of weeks before the attack on Bloodbath, already planning his relocation from Nevada. That he’d be using it to house a prisoner—a witch, of all things—had never occurred to him.
In the centuries since he’d become a vampire, none of Gabriel’s prisoners had ever lived long enough to require housing.
Gaze fixed on the screen, he watched with rapt attention as she sat curled in an overstuffed chair by the living room windows, mug of something hot balanced on her knee, hair piled on top of her head, nose in a book she’d found on one of the shelves. Birds of New York, it was called. It seemed to fascinate and delight her.
She turned another page and nodded, a smile gracing her lush red lips.
Gabriel felt an unexpected flicker of warmth in his chest.
Bloody hell.He reached for the bottle of bourbon on his desk, poured a stiff drink.
He was obsessing again. It crawled through his blood, making him jittery. Making him weak. Whether it was another of her wicked spells or the failings of his own mind, Gabriel resented it. Resentedher.
What secrets are you harboring, little moonflower?
“So this is why you were too busy to join us at Ravenswood?”
The voice startled him. Familiar. Cheery. Annoying as fuck.
“AidenbloodyDonovan.” Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “How did you get in here?”
“Door was open, mate. After I picked the lock, anyways. You really should see someone about better security—I hear the neighborhood has really gone to seed.” He peered over Gabriel’s shoulder at the monitor. “Wow. Didn’t peg you as the voyeuristic type, princeling, but—”
