Part 20 (1/2)

Parrish raised an eyebrow. ”You're full of surprises. First you find the formula that will free us all from the night, and now you've met the son of a vampire. Incredible. Next you'll tell me you've met a werewolf.”

”No werewolves.”

”Good,” Parrish sounded genuinely relieved. ”So, how is this dhampyr involved with your currentsituation?”

”I think he's an informant to the Vatican.”

Parrish laughed. ”The Vatican doesn't hunt vampires.”

”They do if they're also Witches.”

”Ah, excellent point,” Parrish said, then he yawned. ”I think I need to go to sleep soon. The sun is coming up.”

I glanced at the window reflexively, having forgotten that it was covered in blankets. Even so, I doubted I would see any trace of the sunrise to come. Parrish always seemed to know hours in advance of the actual event. ”Do you feel the rotation of the earth or something? How do you know?”

”I checked your clock. And, earlier, the almanac.”

So much for the spooky Spidey-sense theory.

”You shouldn't stay here,” I said. ”I have a sneaking suspicion Sebastian sent the Order on a wild-goose chase. When they come back, they're going to be p.i.s.sed off and looking for some vampire blood to spill.”

Parrish's shoulders drooped slightly. He glanced at the clock again. ”It's far too early in the morning to hustle up another place to crash. I'm afraid I'm just going to have to take my chances here.”

I winced at how casually he said it. ”No. I can't take the risk, Parrish. If you'd be willing to give me a ride somewhere to retrieve my bag, I could give you some cash for a hotel room. I really think you'd be safer elsewhere. I hate the idea of how vulnerable you are during the day. The Order could slaughter you.”

He looked like he was going to protest, but then he stopped himself. ”So youdo care.”

”Of course.”

”Well, then, dear lady, lead on.”

Sebastian's s.h.i.+ny black Mafia car sat under the streetlight. Parrish had parked his dusty, battered Harley right behind it. While Parrish fiddled with the saddlebags, I peered in through the windows of the car at the interior. It seemed ominous that it was still here. I hadn't been terribly surprised to see it when Izzy dropped me off, but I figured Sebastian would have been back for it by now, what with dawn mere hours away. But then I remembered morning wasn't necessarily a problem for Sebastian. He could doze on a park bench like a transient if he wanted to, I supposed.

I was turning away when my eyes caught the glint of metal. Keys. Wedged in the crevice of the bench seat were Sebastian's car keys. What the h.e.l.l?

”We must make haste,” Parrish said, coming up beside me to put an encouraging hand on my shoulder. ”Yeah,” I said, trying not to let the keys bother me. ”Let's go.”

It was that eerily quiet time, which could be cla.s.sified as either late, late night or early, early morning.

The bars had been closed for several hours, and newspaper deliverers were only just waking up to head to work. Parrish's motorcycle roared down the empty streets, shattering the peaceful slumber of birds not quite ready to herald the coming dawn. The bitter cold moisture of morning dew clung to my face, and I could see hints of a frosty glitter on stretches of gra.s.s.

My arms wrapped tightly around Parrish's waist as the wind tore through my hair. We buzzed past closed restaurants, empty parking lots, and lonely, deserted-looking service stations. At this time of day, the highway stretched before us as we rode in the strobe of streetlamps.

Parrish really poured on the speed when we turned off onto the county road, seeming to delight in my panicked clutches at his stomach as he wove around hairpin curves and up and down rolling hills.

Moonlight bathed the pa.s.sing cornfields in silver and gray.

Thanks to Sebastian's wards, Parrish drove right past the farmstead. I yelled over the roar of the engine for him to turn around, and he did, even though he nearly drove past it a second time. After he cut the power and toed the kick-stand into place, he asked, ”This is the place?”

I saw it now with magical eyes. The image of the abandoned house floated like a ghost over the brightly painted clapboard exterior. ”Yes, he's using wards to deceive you.”

”Wards?” Parrish stayed on the bike as though he was tempted to leave in a hurry. ”He's a Warlock?”

Remembering Sebastian's preference, I corrected, ”Alchemist. Remember, that's why the Vatican is after him.”

”Ah.” There was something of a sneer in Parrish's tone, as if he thought Sebastian too hoity-toity for his own britches.

I started to head toward the door and then remembered the last time I walked in somewhat uninvited.

More than wards guarded the house. If I wanted to get to my d.a.m.n backpack, I was going to have to get past Benjamin, the poltergeist.

”Oh, c.r.a.p,” I muttered.

”What?” Maybe it was the nearness of dawn, but Parrish sounded jumpy.

”There's an attack ghost attached to the house.”

”You can't possibly be serious.”

And Benjamin might like me less now that I've slept with his master and violated his sanctum to boot. Or maybe Sebastian had instructed Benjamin to keep his distance. ”Only one way to find out,” I said, and marched resolutely toward the door.

As I walked, I unfurled my magical senses, reaching to unlock them with each step that brought me closer to the decrepit/well-maintained porch. Tangled weeds s.h.i.+mmered and became orderly rows ofrosebushes and pansies, then, with a blink, appeared to be c.o.c.klebur and milkweed once again.

My body tensed into full-alert mode as I mounted the creaky steps. I closed my eyes and let my magical senses guide me to the door, which, in my mind, pulsed with a dark violet hex of warning. I reached through it carefully and put my hand on the doork.n.o.b.

Only to find it locked.

Seventh House

KEYWORDS:.

Wrath, Contracts, b.i.t.c.hiness

”What's wrong?” Parrish's voice startled me. He'd come up behind me to peer nervously at the door.

Magic apparently made him twitchy, because I could almost feel him holding back the urge to look over his shoulder. ”I saw a flash of purple sparks, and now you're standing next to a brand-new door.”

My magical senses showed that the hex had broken where my hand touched the k.n.o.b. I shrugged. ”I'm surprised. The wards are easy to break,” I said. ”But we're screwed; the door's locked.”

He laughed. ”That's something I can handle. Do you want him to know there was a forced entry or not?”

”Not.”