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However, when he slipped through the front door and past the bodyguards, he happened to glance back over his shoulder. A tall vampire with unusually pale skin, stood watching him. He was lean with maybe greenish eyes and had black hair, but that’s all Connor could make out. Big Nuts was right; a witch spell of some kind cloaked him. Great. They were dealing with a vampire who didn’t mind making use of a witch’s powers.
He could feel Iris’s spell start to weaken. He rose swiftly into the air and Iris collapsed against him, the spell vanishing at the same moment. He carried her two streets over, then landed to put both guns away. It was tricky since she was limp against him, almost unconscious.
As soon as the weapons were back in each holster, he slid an arm beneath her knees and cradled her against his chest. He then launched back into the air. He realized now that Iris, acting on her prescience, had gotten them both out of there alive, though he didn’t know how. For one thing, he should have fallen under the spell at the same time as the others. For another, he’d never heard of a witch being able to enthrall so many at once. Again, Iris must have a phenomenal level of ability.
He decided it would be best to return to her home since she would need time to recover. He knew enough about her culture to understand Iris would gain strength from her garden. But he wasn’t sure they should stay there long since their shared enemy knew where she lived.
He flew to her backyard and slowly made his descent. When he touched down on the lawn he looked up and saw that her earlier spell, full of power, had created a shield over her entire property, something that looked like soft trails of mist through the air.
“I can see your spell,” he said quietly. He didn’t let her go. He knew she’d crumple if he did.
“Makes sense.” She spoke slowly, as though drugged. “I included you in the binding incantation. Sorry I’m so weak. I used everything … I had to hold the spell. I knew he wouldn’t tell us anything otherwise.”
Connor carried her to the back door and opened it carefully. At the same time, the yellow cat rushed out, his quiet bell jingling at his neck.
“Don’t take me into the house,” she whispered. “Follow Pips.”
He turned and saw that the cat was sitting in the middle of the patch of grass, his back to Connor. Pips then turned slightly to watch Connor over his shoulder as though waiting for Connor to figure things out.
When Connor levitated and moved in the cat’s direction, Pips trotted to the tree then sat down off to the right of it. “Pips is by the sissoo.”
“Take me there. He always knows best.” Ah, yes, the world of the witch.
Once he reached the old, massive tree, he had to set her on her feet for a moment, but held her pressed against him. He unclipped his Glock holster first, then his sword, bending to place each on the ground. He picked her up again and leaning against the tree slid down to sit on the grass at the base. He held Iris on his lap, still holding her close.
The tree felt like life to him, as though everything good and powerful in the universe had gathered in one place and showered a life-force down on them both.
A breeze blew through the garden, rustling the leaves of the sissoo, and making a shushing sound.
His throat grew tight and he had the strangest feeling as though for a brief moment he’d returned to the human world
restored. He rubbed his gums, checking for the lumps that would release his fangs, but they were still there. The sensation, as transient as it would no doubt prove, made him long for things he’d pushed to the deepest parts of his mind.
He’d been twenty-eight when he’d taken the blood flame drug, laced as it was with the vampire alter serum. But in this moment, with Iris in his arms, he could recall the vision he’d had for his life. He would become an engineer and build entire cities. He would find the right woman to be by his side, they would marry and have four or five kids.
He’d found the right woman, but after a year of marriage she’d died unexpectedly of a brain aneurism. His grief had been profound and had led him to take blood flame, which in turn had brought him here, to this exact spot, beneath a life-giving tree and holding a beautiful, strong, resourceful witch in his arms.
When Iris began drawing deep breaths, he felt her strength returning. With skin like cream, her brows in fine arches, and her lips full, she looked like a model.
Without thinking, he stroked her face, pushing a few loose strands away from her ear.
She drew another stream of air into her lungs, then rolled her head back to look up at him. Her gaze skated past him as she looked in the direction of the sky. She smiled. “I’m so glad to be home and you’re right, my spell holds. We’ll be safe here. I knew you were worried about that.”
Her cat jumped up on Iris’s stomach. “Hello, Pips.”
Iris shifted just enough to pet her cat.
Connor’s throat now ached like he had a noose around his neck. For a moment, he didn’t know why until he realized he’d felt this way once before, during his way-too-brief marriage.
The night had already been strange with the runner and her fake jacket, the explosion on the bridge, and now Big Nuts turning him over to a madman for cash.
But maybe the most bizarre part was realizing he was falling in love with Iris Meldeere, a woman who by nature of her alter species was his enemy.
How the hell had this happened?
