“Sure.” I stood and went to my closet. The null ward and the smallhedge of thornswere still in place. As I released thehedge, I caught sight of something from the corner of my eye. A flicker of light and smudge of shadow. I whipped around. Fear hit me, shocking through my system. But there was no one there.
Is not predator,Beast thought at me.Is magic curse in vampire heart.
Okay,I thought, staring at the box. Speaking to the heart, I said, “Last time I held you I was full of adrenaline, so I didn’t feel it. But you put out a lot of fear and paranoia, don’t you? That’s another reason you need to be kept in a null room.”
I wondered if the Heir could tell I had freed the heart from its restraints. To be on the safe side, I opened the laptop and checked the security system. No one. Nothing at all.
I picked up the box. The shaft of terror nearly had me dropping it, but I held on and my own magics pushed the fear back. It was still there, but not as strong. I returned to the kitchen with the heartbox, which felt a little heavier than when I had taken it from the witches. Bruiser cleared a space and I placed the box in front of Lachish. I managed to stand still and not step back from it. “If other emotions don’t override it, it radiates fear,” I said, making it a statement, as if I was informing her and not asking her.
“Yes.” Lachish placed a small mouse-shaped carved wooden amulet on the table and pushed it until it touched the box. The fear receded and I took an unsteady breath.
The wood box opened easily, and the light fell on the heart. Except it wasn’t just a heart. To both sides of the heart were pale pinkish tissue, stuff that might be pieces of lung. There were arteries and veins coming out the top of the heart and one that attached to the lungs. There was no blood. No heart pumping.
Then the heart quivered.
It was trying to beat. Even without a body to breathe for it or blood to pump through it, the flesh was still alive. Okay. That was creepy.
Lachish said, “It does that sometimes. Then it stops.”
The pulsating of the bloodless muscle stopped.
Yeah. Creepy.
“It’s grown,” Lachish said. She looked up at me. “Unless it’s your intent to let it grow into a full human-shaped body, it needs stronger null energies.”
Strong heart. Good food,Beast thought.
I burst out laughing. “No,” I said to both of them, waving away Lachish’s stiff posture and insulted expression. “Sorry.” I’d been warned not to let it be destroyed until after the Heir was true dead. I figured that also applied to not letting it grow bigger than it was now. “The moment the wards go up, you witches can have it. But not until then.” I closed it and carried the heartbox back to my closet, setting it in place beside all the null objects. I opened the null ward and the fear disappeared.
This particularhedge of thornswas usually strong enough on its own, but it could be made stronger if I added a thin smear of my blood to activate it, something I did without thinking these days. I pricked my finger and triggered thehedgebefore wrapping my finger in a tissue. Then I stopped. Blood could be used in a spell or curse against me. In the bathroom, I found a box of small Band-Aids and put one over my fingertip. Just in case. Back in the kitchen, I tossed the tissue in the mostly new fireplace, and watched as it caught fire.
And then it hit me. Vamps burned in the daylight. The daylight had hit the heart just now. And it hadn’t burned.
As the tissue flamed away, I said, “I know blood-witches can bind demons. What do you know about the possibility of binding an angel?” I looked from the flames to Lachish. She had stopped, the cup halfway to her mouth, her lips parted. “If someone had plans to bind an angel,” I continued, “could they use the heart? And how much power would that kind of binding require?”
Lachish put her cup down and it rattled in the saucer. Her eyes narrowed, moving back and forth a little, as if scanning the tabletop, thinking. “I don’t know.” But itwas clear she had a good educated guess she didn’t want to share.
I said, “The heart is a vamp heart. We just exposed it to daylight, and it didn’t go up in flames. The heart started out with Jodi Richoux, now Wrassler’s wife. Then it got moved, and then moved again to you. It puts out fear. And it grows. Only a null working stops it from growing. It’s always been under the effect of arejuvenationworking, hasn’t it?”
Had Lachish not been weakened from trauma she wouldn’t have reacted, but she did, just the barest flinch. Then she closed her eyes as if only the darkness allowed her to speak. “We think so. We don’t know for certain. The fear started a few weeks ago, about the same time as the heart began to quiver, trying to beat. But if a demon has been summoned and bound to another’s will, and if an angel has been bound...” She stopped as if she couldn’t go on.
“If the original angel binding involved the blood of the Son of Darkness,” I said, “then the Heart of Darkness might be pulling on the life force of the angel and the death force of a demon to rejuvenate itself. Especially if a lot of the power had been transferred to the Heir.” Which we didn’t know for sure, but what the heck. I’d take a shot and see what she might let go.
She opened her eyes to me. “There is little in the old tales or the few surviving grimoires about binding a demon. And nothing about binding an angel. I can only guess at the power such a practitioner would gain.”
I started to say, “Should we—”
Lachish stood quickly, her chair legs scraping on the floor, her breath catching, as if the sudden movement sent pain through her. She leaned on the table and, unexpectedly, laughed. “Getting old sucks.” More slowly, she stood and said, “Getting shot sucks too. My ride is here. Thank you for your hospitality, Jane Yellowrock. And the leader of the New Orleans coven thanks the Dark Queen for her assistance and help navigating these troubled waters.”
Bruiser saw the witch to the door, while I contemplated the possibility of lunch and a long nap. However, Lachish was still in the street out front when Bruiser’scell buzzed. My honeybunch looked from his phone to me, saying, “One of the older Mithrans translating a journal you found in the library is awake and working in his room. He believes that we need to see what he’s found in the journal.” These were the journals that Leo had shown to me, when he was fighting the control of his master. I wondered if he was still fighting. Should I have staked him and left him at HQ, where he could be watched twenty-four-seven?
Every decision meant more danger, more problems, and unintended consequences.
I held in my sigh. A nap was off the table. But if Deon was up, at least the food would be good.
CHAPTER 16
My Last Master Had No Use for Symbolism
