The Ripple Effect

“I might know of a demon or two, but...” She paused for added effect. “If I help you, no one can know. Joseph isn’t aware of what I do in my free time, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I’m not stupid about black magic, and I don’t go looking for trouble. And there is also a cost. I don’t work for free. If this wasn’t important to me, I wouldn’t even offer. Unlike you I don’t want to face the wrath of Joseph’s maker.”


And away we go. “What do you want?”

“I want to bring a soul from purgatory, from the abyss between here and there.”

“Baxter.” The vampire Sonja loved who was killed by a deranged child vampire. The little bastard had taken Baxter’s heart, banished his soul, and stole his rest.

“Yes, Baxter.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve tried to do it myself, but I don’t have the strength. With the amulet”—she glanced at my chest—“we can pull it off. I’m sure of it.”

“Since I don’t know how long I have, we’re working against the clock.” I closed the folder. “I’ve got work tonight, but I can meet you tomorrow. Where do you want to do this?”

“The warehouse where Kibwe murdered Baxter.”

If it weren’t for the services she was offering, I’d have said no. I’d died on the floor of that warehouse. Left as food for the worms. I’d felt the rays of Heaven as they had sang to me, and I’d almost crossed over to the other side. If it weren’t for Goose and Sonja, I would have. Their necromancy kept me from stepping into the light and leaving this world behind. The warehouse was not a place I wanted to return to. There were too many bad memories.

“Why there?”

“It’s where he died and where he was banished. It’s the best place to pull him from limbo and send him where he belongs.”

“Okay.” It was my turn to pinch my nose and accept that helping Sonja wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped. “Let’s meet in the morning.”

“Does ten o’clock work for you? I have an early study group.”

“Sure.” I lowered my hand and nodded. “I’ll meet you there.”

I bent to the side, grasped the duffel, and shoved the folder inside when Sonja stopped me. “Rhiannon.”

“Yeah?” I zipped the bag and peered over the table at her.

“Give Marius what he wants. Don’t push the issue. You’ve only been given a glimpse of what it’s like for vampires. Gabriel has shielded you from it, but maybe he shouldn’t have. Since you’ve never attended one of their gatherings, you don’t know just how depraved they can be. They kill for pleasure and sport. They live off of chaos and hurting people in any manner possible. It’s not something I ever want to be a part of again.” She took a deep breath and whispered, “It won’t end well for you.”

I gave a curt nod, rose from my seat, and walked toward the café doors. She wasn’t telling me anything new. I’d done a bit of research of the older vampires, so I knew how sadistic they could be. Actually, her warning only reminded me of how most things transpired in my life. No matter what I did. No matter how hard I tried. No matter how good my intentions.

Things never ended well.





Chapter Seven


“Damn it,” Mike snapped, one of his beefy hands wrapped around my neck. “Pay attention!”

I broke his hold by dropping my weight, using his own mass against him. He moved forward, giving me enough space to place his shoulder against my back. I grasped his forearm, getting a solid grip, bent my knees and used all my strength to step back and force his body over my head. He was a heavy son of a bitch, nearly too much for me to take.

He landed on the mat with a plop, but he didn’t stay down. I steeled myself for the lecture that was coming. Mike didn’t mind staying after class to help me refine my self-defense moves, but only when my mind was in the right place. Sparring required total attention. One lapse in someone’s focus and someone could be seriously hurt.

“That was sloppy.”

“I’m sorry.” And I was. My inattention to the task at hand was stupid, and I knew it—we both knew it.

“I didn’t think today was a good day, but you insisted,” he muttered, rising to his feet. He ran his hand over his nearly bald head, the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunching. “I should have listened to my gut when you said your head was on your shoulders.”

J.A. Saare's books