Deborah LeBlanc - Witch's Fury

“So I’m a big spender. Besides, you haven’t said three words to me since we left Evee’s café to come to the cemetery. You looked so lost in thought, at times, I was sure you’d run headlong into a lamppost.” Gavril stopped walking and took hold of her arm gently, stopping her movement and turning her toward him. “I know things are crazy right now, but aside from that, are you okay?”

Gilly sighed. “Yes and no. I wish I could be more help to my sisters, but I know I have my own Originals to look after.”

When she stopped speaking, Gavril studied her face. His eyes pierced hers, looking for more answers than what she’d just given him.

Gilly bit the corner of her mouth, unable to resist the questions in his eyes. “And I’m scared. So much has gotten out of control that I don’t know if we’ll ever know normalcy again.”

Gavril ran his hand up and down her arm with a soothing touch. “All we can do is the best we can do. You can’t explain why some of you and your sisters’ spells aren’t working, or if you know you haven’t told me about it, and I have no idea why the scabior canopies are failing. I mean, this has never been done before, not to my knowledge, but it should react similar to our scabiors, which never just go out.”

The Benders had assured the sisters that the Cartesians were not fictional creatures but real, vicious monstrosities that were determined to be the sole power in the netherworld, a three-dimensional place that held vampires, elves, djinn and other supernatural creatures. They had also dispelled the myth that Cartesians moved under the cloak of invisibility. It only appeared that way because Cartesians were able to slip in and out of physical dimensions in the blink of an eye.

The Hylands were able to track Cartesians by their scent, which was a noxious odor of sulfur and clove. They’d been taught, as were their fathers and grandfathers before them, how to battle the giant hellions in order to protect those who lived in the underworld. They did so by using a special weapon called a scabior—a six-inch rod of steel with a bloodstone attached to one end—which was handed down from generation to generation.

Not long after the Benders had arrived, in order for them to find the missing Originals and keep the ones they had safe, they’d created a scabior canopy, an electrical shelter that hovered over each safe zone. No Cartesian would be able to drop in through that crisscrossed electrical current.

“But they did go out. One of them, anyway—Evee’s, the one Lucien set up in the catacombs for the Nosferatu. Remember? He told us he’d had to recharge the current. Then, before we knew it, it was completely out, and all of the Nosferatu that were inside disappeared.”

“I know.”

“How could that happen?”

Gavril frowned and shrugged. “It’s as much a mystery to me as it is to you. What’s stranger still is that the canopy was still intact over the north compound, where Viv kept her Loup-Garous, yet all of them disappeared.”

“Yeah,” Gilly said. “Explain that one.”

“I wish I could, but I have no answers. The canopies were something that had never been done before, just a brainstorming idea that seemed to make sense, so we really don’t know their power or capabilities. As for the Loup-Garous going missing with the shield over the compound still operational, it’s beyond me. The only thing I can figure is that they purposely chose to leave.”

Gilly shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Their food is there. Safety is there.”

“That may be, but if they’ve never known anything else but the safe zones, they have no way of knowing what they face once they escape it.”

Gilly lowered her head reluctantly. She didn’t want to break eye contact with Gavril. His gaze consumed her, no matter the topic of conversation. The rest of him was nothing shy of downright hulk, bulk and sexuality. He exuded all three.

Although Gilly had never asked his age, Gavril appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He stood at least six foot four and had a body and face built for GQ —wide shoulders, biceps that looked like he could lift an elephant one-handed and, even from the black T-shirt he wore, the ripples in his abs were evident. His violet eyes were accented by a short, red beard, an aquiline nose and a cleft chin. His hair, the same color as his beard, sat just below shoulder length. His lips were always something Gilly worked hard to avoid looking at. Average upper, thick bottom, a mouth made for kissing. For deep, passionate kisses, not only on her own lips but all over her body.

When she looked back up at him, his eyes were still on her face. “Right now, our best move is to make sure your Chenilles are okay in their safe zone and lead them to their feeding. Once that’s done, you bring them back here, and we keep hunting for the ones that’re missing.”

Gilly watched his lips as he spoke, feeling warmth spread through her body. She had to concentrate hard on his words as they were damn near lost to her need for him. So much of this felt odd, yet wonderful to her. It had been at least a year and a half since she’d dated. Since a committed human relationship was forbidden, she’d kept her dates limited, never with the same man twice.

With a feeling of reluctance, Gilly felt Gavril release her arm. “We’re almost at the cemetery. I’ll wait across the street near the voodoo shop, where it’s darkest. Once you have them on their way to the docks, I’ll follow but at a distance.”

Gilly nodded. “No heroics, okay? Remember, the Chenilles are going to be ravenous by this time. If they see you before I can get them on the ferry and across to the compound, we’ll be the ones contacting your family about your death.” Gilly regretted her words the moment they came out of her mouth. A cloud of sorrow and depression crossed Gavril’s face, and she was sure he was thinking of Ronan. What an insensitive ass she was.

“I mean—”

“I know what you mean,” Gavril said, the light returning to his eyes. “No worries. I’ll be careful.”

Knowing that the François family ferry was waiting at the dock for her Chenilles, Gilly signaled Gavril to go into the shadows. Then she went into the cemetery to round up her brood.

As the Chenilles exited the cemetery—following Gilly’s lead Chenille, Patrick—Gilly stood by the cemetery gates and took count as they went by. Ten more short than the last count, and as best she could tell, the scabior dome was still intact and operational. Being led by Patrick, the Chenilles followed in pairs. Their tall, thin figures bent over at the waist slightly, their beautiful faces intent on the Chenille before it. It was feeding time, and every Chenille knew it, which was what kept them from breaking formation and made it easy to walk them through the shadows and alleys to the dock.

Not having time to stop and give Gavril the news, she hurried over to Patrick’s side and led her Originals to the docks, winding through side alleys and behind buildings to remain undetected.

Once they were loaded onto the ferry, Gilly got on. As the boat began to move, Gavril came out of the shadows and watched her, and she watched him. With the distance between them growing, Gilly could have sworn she saw Gavril give her the smallest wave goodbye and then lay his hand over his heart. If she was right and hadn’t mistaken the gesture for some odd shadow, the thought of him making that heart tap made her heart feel full to the point of bursting. It took a lot of will power for her not to return the gesture. But what if she’d been mistaken in what she thought she saw? What would he think? That she was having a heart attack and attempt to get to her? Or would he see it for what it was and think she was making a move on him?