“Shut up. You don’t have a sex room.”
“I mean, not really a sex room. It’s just a themed room with some toys and such. Partners can reserve the room for couple reads, or if someone wants to just be in the environment of their books…”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I started to, but then you fell asleep.”
“I wouldn’t do that. I love books.”
“You don’t love books. You would literally practice your spells on them, catching most of them on fire.”
“The teacher said to focus on something you ha- Oh. I see what you did there.”
“You two are cute,” Betty jumps in.
“What?”
“You two. Your banter. You’re like sisters.”
“Sisters from different misters,” Lizzy says, punching my arm.
“Ow.” I rub it, holding my hand up to her like I’m going to shoot a light ball at her. “Too soon,” she mumbles.
“Ok, well, I’m going to head out. I’ll be back later. Make yourself comfy. There’s not much, but what’s mine is yours.” She waves her arms around at the nearly empty apartment. “You are welcome to come and leave as you please. Spells on the apartment, so it’s well protected, but you step outside of the door and no protection.”
“This is great. Thank you so much. Again. Really.”
“Anything for my Lizzy Lou.”
“Lizzy Lou?” I ask, nudging her arm.
“Long story. Not worth the retell.”
“We literally have nothing but time on our hands since you have me holed up here.”
CALLUM - VISIT FROM THE DJINN
“Tenhours!”Islammy fist on the kitchen counter. The hard stone does little to echo the anger that’s boiling inside of me. “It’s been ten hours and we have nothing. No trace of her. How is that possible?”
“Who is she?” Emmett asks, pulling the bag of O positive out of the boiling water on the stove. Even though he changed clothes, it looks like the same outfit from last night. Dark slacks and a white button-down shirt. It’s what he wears every day. Something about being born in the late eighteen-hundreds, then being turned into a vampire at the turn of the century, has not allowed him to move on. He still speaks of those days like they were yesterday.
He was a promising chef, studying under the world-renowned Chef Jean Pierre Pantoffier in the beautiful Paris. But as he tells it, one night after closing up the restaurant, a pair of men and a mistaken identity later, he was dying in an alleyway without a prayer in the world. Then this woman appears from around the corner and sees him, descends on him like some dark angel. She recognized him and called him by name, her voice light and melodic, hurriedly ripped into her wrist with her teeth, then fed him her blood. Before she could say anything else, footsteps were running towards them and she was gone in a flash, never to be seen from again. Darkness swooped around him and the next thing he remembers was waking up in a hospital with an insatiable hunger. He looked at his stomach where he felt the knife enter and didn’t see so much as a scrape. He checked his arms and legs. Nothing. The only thing that remained was his hunger. He bolted, and that night was the first night he killed someone. Racked with guilt and confusion, he tried to hide himself away until the hunger became too much for him to handle and he attacked again. What he knows now is that he could pace himself, only taking what he needs and letting the human go on their way. Even though he knows better now, he doesn’t allow himself the indulgence of a fresh feed. Instead, he warms up days old or weeks old blood in bags on our stove.
“I’ve already told you. I don’t know. Well, I know her name is Everlee, and that she has a friend who is a witch. Potentially a powerful witch, but they’re both young. I wouldn’t put them a day over seventy and that’s being generous. They smelled younger, like fresh out of the womb young, but if that were the case, there’d be no way they’d be able to evade us for this long.”
“Maybe you’re losing your touch,” Jax mumbles, using a chicken bone to pick between his teeth.
“Watch it,” I growl.
He’s smug, watching me. Waiting to see what I’ll do. How I’ll react.
“Why do you want to find her so badly?” Emmett asks, pouring his blood bag into a coffee cup that Knox made him last Christmas that says ‘Bloody good Chef’ with a pair of vampire teeth under the oo in bloody.
“Because,” I start, then stop. I trust these boys with my life, but this. If I’m wrong, I don’t want to get their hopes up. I don’t want to tell them there’s a chance we can get our lives back and get out from under the Djinn’s hand. “I just need to find her.”
Jax studies me for a moment, then stands from his chair. “What aren’t you telling us, Callum?”
I stare at him in shock. Why can’t he let this go? “Nothing. I’ll just find her on my own if it’s that big of a deal.”
