“Yeah?”
Silas pointed his chin toward the gray-haired woman reviewing the ceremony at the front of the aisle.
“Artemis?” Jason raised an eyebrow.
“She’s not just a priestess in name. She and her followers have gifts from the goddess. A little of her voodoo is as good as any healer.”
“I can’t think of anything more humiliating than interrupting the priestess about this.” Especially if she might suspect the real reason for his discomfort. Could Artemis see the curse upon his soul?
A burly palm slapped his shoulder and shook gently. “All right then. Guess you’ll have to muscle through it.”
With a deep breath, Jason glanced back toward Artemis, but it was the acolyte, Selene, standing behind her that commanded his attention. Dressed in that elegant blush-colored robe, she stared at him as if he were a puzzle she wished to solve. More accurately, she stared through him. Could she see it in him?Those violet eyes of hers seemed to cut right through to his soul. In the moment their eyes caught and held, it felt like someone was using a rib spreader to surgically open him up and fiddle with his heart. He gulped.
“Easy, buddy. If you’re going to puke, do it over there.” Silas pointed toward some bushes.
But Jason wasn’t paying attention. He was picturing Selene naked and tied spread-eagle to his bed. He wondered if her sex was the same petal pink as her robe. No, Artemis couldn’t help him with this curse, and neither could Selene. Hell, the way his wolf was eyeing her as his next meal, he’d be wise to stay as far away from her as possible.
* * *
Why ishe staring at me?Selene locked eyes with Jason. The look on the man’s face was that of a drowning man. Indeed, the intensity of his stare made her uncomfortable, stirred something deep inside her she hadn’t known was there. Her heart rate increased, its thump steady in her ears, and a tingle started deep within her abdomen. Her wolf surged under her skin, wanting her to go to him.Deep empathy,she thought.A level of compassion she’d never achieved before. With a start, she recognized it must be the goddess calling her to help this man. The strong swelling in her chest and the magnetic pull she felt toward him was a sign from above.
But could she do it? Although she’d been trained to treat unwanted vices, she’d never put those skills to use before. Not because she didn’t want to, of course. It was simply that an opportunity hadn’t presented itself. There was one thing she had in common with Jason though, one thing that already connected them, the grief that came with the loss of both parents. That she could relate to, and if that was part of the cause of his affliction, she could help him.
As she watched him, she wondered if there wasn’t more going on with him and his muddy aura. He looked ill. Obviously uncomfortable, he shifted from foot to foot. Even from a distance, his face appeared flushed and his hands trembled by his sides. Even Silas seemed genuinely concerned.
She told herself she’d speak with him after the ceremony. Helping Jason was her first priority, but she also felt an urgent need to prove to Artemis she was right for the priesthood. Silently she rehearsed what she’d say to him in her head.
“I believe that covers everything,” Artemis announced from the altar in front of her. “I’ll see you all back here tomorrow for the real thing.”
As the wedding party departed in a throng of excited voices, Selene navigated the crowd toward Jason, hoping for the chance to convince him to work with her. But when she reached the place where he’d been standing with his brother, he was gone.
ChapterSeven
Jason rushed from the wedding rehearsal feeling like he had a bad case of poison ivy. His skin itched and burned, and the throb at the base of his skull had grown more intense.Boom, boom, boom.The pain demanded attention.
The second he reached his car, he dug into his glove compartment and fished out a bottle of pain relievers, popping the cap and dry-swallowing three. The pounding took on a rhythm, morphing into a voice, Nickelova’s voice.Come to me.Come to me. Her command echoed in his head until it became a stabbing sensation. He rubbed where it hurt the most. Jason had a nagging suspicion the discomfort was only going to get worse unless he found a way to break the curse. He needed help—magic powerful enough to undo what Nickelova had done to him. And he had an idea where he might find it.
Exiting the highway deep within Carlton City, Jason drove down the alley behind the Mill Wheel Night Club, wishing he’d had the forethought to bring a gun loaded with wooden bullets. A couple making out behind a dumpster turned their heads long enough for the two puncture wounds on the woman’s neck to gurgle blood that ran in lazy rivulets into her cleavage. Fuck, he hated vamps. If he wasn’t desperate for a solution to his Nickelova problem, he’d never risk this part of town.
He parked under a rectangular tin sign that readRyker’s Lost Things. The logo was a chipped etching of a boy in overalls with a bundle of his possessions wrapped in a kerchief, tied to a stick, and slung over his shoulder. An unsettling smile wrinkled his freckled nose. The sign squeaked on rusty hinges as it swung in the evening breeze.
Jason had loaned Ryker his start-up capital for this place, despite shady references and a business plan that was one step up from a cocktail napkin. Only Ryker proved persuasive, so persuasive that Jason caught on quickly that his aptitude for business wasn’t quite human. And based on the return he’d seen come through his email, the guy had serious connections inside the world of the occult.
The bell over the door chimed, and the smell of dust hit Jason’s nostrils. The inside of Lost Things looked like an episode ofHoarders. Stacks of books, artifacts, and shiny objects crowded the doorway. He had to turn sideways to slip between two large crates of Fabergé eggs, pausing halfway through when a low hum met his superhuman ears. It emanated from one large black egg that gleamed in the dim light, its ebony luster drawing him in. He leaned over for a better look.
“Don’t touch that,” came a smooth voice from deep within the shop. “Unless you’d like to spend the night locked inside that shiny trinket. I won’t be able to get you out until sunrise. I need to move them into the back room. Haven’t had a chance.”
Jason stepped back from the eggs and made his way deeper into the dimly lit store. A squat woman waddled up to the counter with a handful of dried lizards. Her T-shirt readWitches do it in circles.
“Do you sell these in bulk?” she asked the dark man behind the counter.
“Five for twenty.”
The woman plopped down a bill. She waddled out the door, giving a wide clearance to the crate of eggs.
“Ryker Vandoren, how’s my favorite client?” Jason spread his arms wide.
The man glanced up from his work and promptly disappeared, becoming a twist of smoke in a blink of an eye. The dark fog rolled over the counter and through the hodgepodge of collectibles. Ryker rematerialized near Jason, smelling of sulfur and dried things. Black eyes burned above a smile that boasted two overdeveloped cuspids. His olive-toned skin seemed to give off its own light in the haze of dust around them.
