H Mallory - To Kill A Warlock

I palpated my fingers across his chest, reveling in the ridges of valleys and mountains of his abdomen. I paused above the scar that ran the length of his chest.

He pulled himself from me, and I licked my lips, savoring every last taste of him.

“I hope you killed whoever did this to you,” I said as I traced the scar.

He chuckled and pushed his pelvis into me once more, as if trying to draw more attention to the bulge in his pants. He didn't need to. “Yes, Dulce, he's long gone.”

He hovered above me, just watching me. I didn’t know what to say or do. Anxiety welled within my stomach when it seemed he might kiss me again and I pushed myself out from underneath him, suddenly scared to death that we’d gone as far as we had.

Knight chuckled. “And where do you think you’re going?”

I didn’t know. All I did know was that I had to get away from him-I couldn’t handle the anxiety pounding through my veins but I also didn’t want him to know that. “We shouldn't be doing this. What would the Relations Office think?” It was the only excuse I could think of. “You’re not my employee.” Damn. “I, uh, I’m just not…” “You really know how to ruin a good moment, don't you?” he interrupted and stood up, starting for the Wrangler. “You'll thank me later,” I said, but Knight just shook his head and tossed me the keys.

Launching myself up my front stairwell, I opened the door to find Bram and Trey sitting side by side on the sofa, watching Nosferatu.

I couldn’t find the wherewithal to come up with a snide remark.

“Sweet, you have returned,” Bram said with a leer while his eyes traversed me from head to toe. “And what a sight you are.”

He stood up and approached me, extending his hand as if he wanted to run it down the red vinyl covering my torso. I dismissed him with a wave. “Not now, Bram, I have work to do.”

I grabbed the phone, about to dial Sam, then realized I really didn't want Bram hanging around for the rest of the evening. Not when it involved A.N.C. business. Neither, for that matter, would Knight. And he'd be way less polite about it.

“Bram, thanks for watching Trey, but I can take care of things from here.”

He bowed, his fangs just cresting his lip as his eyes still danced with unabated lust. “I am happy to assist you, Sweet.” He paused. “Do not forget the favor you owe me.”

I nodded, knowing I wasn't about to forget it anytime soon. Hot Hades, it wasn't good to owe favors to anyone, let alone Bram. “Yeah, I won't forget.” “Well, I see you are busy.” He motioned toward the door. “Shall I show myself out?” “Yeah, thanks,” I said as I dialed Sam's number. “Bye, Bram, cool movie, man,” Trey said, extending his bent knuckles like he thought he and Bram were gang brothers.

I didn't hear or see Bram's response, but I did notice the less-than-pleasant salutation offered by Knight and the equally less-than-polite response offered by Bram. Men… “Hello?” Sam said groggily. “Sam, I need a big favor.” “Dulce, what time is it?” I checked my watch. “Two in the morning. Can you come over? I need you to do a locating spell.” “Right now?” she squeaked in a hoarse voice. “Yeah, Knight has the creature's blood on his hand, but he isn't sure how long it will last.” “Oh, wow,” Sam’s voice perked up. “Okay, give me a little time to get my stuff together.” “Thanks, Sam.” “Yeah, yeah.”

I hung up and turning toward the living room, discovered Trey gawking with horror at Knight who stood in his black pants, the red blood staining his hand.

“What the heck happened to you guys?” Trey asked, fear trembling just beneath his bravado.

I shook my head. “It's a really long story.”

An hour later, Sam arrived, carrying a brown leather satchel of potion ingredients. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she plodded into the house still wearing pajama pants and a sweatshirt. The expression on her face wasn't welcoming, rather, it screamed: I want to get the hell back to sleep.

“Hi, Sam,” I said apologetically.

“Hi, Dulce.” Then she glanced at Knight and Trey. “Guys.”

They both said hello, and I followed Sam to the kitchen table where she unloaded her bag of tricks-a stone bowl, a wooden spoon and two vials of…something. “We'll need four people for the spell to work,” Sam said. “Then we'll have to use Trey,” I answered, more to Knight than anyone else. He just nodded. Sam faced him. “Where is the blood?” He held up his hand. She narrowed her eyes and frowned. “Might be too old, but we can try.” “Should we rinse it into a glass or something?” I asked.

Sam shook her head. “No, that will dilute the power of the blood, and the chlorine could kill any chance we have of making it work. Nope, the best thing is to see if we can scrape some of it off.” She held his palm and rotated it, as if searching for the largest smear specimen on the top of his hand. “Looks like some is caught under your fingernails; that might be the best sample.” Sam paused, then glanced at me. “Dulce, can you get a knife, and see if you can shave some of the blood off him?”

I frowned, that sounded painful. Thankfully it wasn't my hand. “Yeah, okay.”

“Make sure you don't cut him. That'll ruin the spell, and we'll just end up tracking him.”

I nodded and went for the smallest knife in my selection. When I approached Knight, I held it up with as wicked a smile as I could manage. He just shook his head.

“Hold his hand over the stone bowl, and try to get as many decent scrapings as you can. First, try under the fingernails.”

Knight followed me to the kitchen table. He held his hand over the stone bowl, and I took hold of it, trying to ignore the feelings of pleasure that visited me at his warm touch. “Proceed with caution,” he said in a deep voice. “What can I do?” Trey asked, moving forward. “And who are you trying to track?” “Never mind,” I answered. Knight shook his head and whispered. “I'll take care of it later. You can tell him.” Thinking that sounded pretty ominous, I didn't respond, but Sam did. “We're trying to track the creature, Trey. I'll need you in a second, but for now, just sit tight.” “Over and out,” Trey said and returned to the couch, dropping himself into it as if all the bones in his body had just collapsed.

I rotated Knight's hand, trying to figure out the best way to get under his nails without slicing off the tip of his finger. After acquiring an adequate angle, I took the small paring knife and carved out whatever I could from beneath his nails. A few dark bits of blood drifted into the stone bowl. When I couldn’t get any more, I turned his hand over to shave off the remaining blood. “Use the back of the knife, not the blade,” he said. I glanced at him and grinned. “Why, are you scared?” He paused a moment before returning the smile. “Yes.”

I laughed and flipped the knife, shaving the dried stain with it. More crusty blood flaked into the stone bowl until it looked like a small mound of red dandruff.

“That's probably enough,” Sam said as she inspected my work.

Knight pulled his hand from mine and started for the sink, washing his hands twice.

Sam grabbed the wooden spoon from the table top and a vial of something that looked like pink lemonade. She poured the entire contents of the vial into the blood bowl and began stirring, inspecting it for who knew what. The stuff in the bowl didn't do anything-the blood just disappeared into the pink lemonade liquid and that was that. “Dulce, there should be a pH test kit in the bag, can you get it for me?” I shuffled through her bag until I found the rectangular sheets of paper. “Just dip the end of one into the potion,” Sam said. I did as I was told, and the paper went from white to a deep purple. “Flap it around like you're drying a Polaroid photo.” I obeyed and flapped it. It didn't change color. “Great, now you just have to drink it,” she said with a smirk. “Drink it?” I repeated, my stomach churning at the thought. “Sure, how do you think you're going to be able to find the creature without taking some of it into yourself?” “Please tell me you’re joking.” I backed away, shaking my head. “I'm not drinking that.” Knight faced me. “It's either you or me.” That was easy. “You.”