The Renfield Syndrome

Summoning Marigold Vesta would require a bit of my blood and a sacrifice. Most witches used animals, like chickens, cats and dogs. In my case, I had a much larger target in mind—one that deserved to be sent to Hell until she could be reborn.

 

I yanked the packet with the facts on Marigold and her amulet from the folder and read over it. There was a lot of information, including the amulet’s power to prevent maladies—such as lycanthropy—heal injuries, shade your presence from others—including vampires you were beholden to—and increase powers. Several of the pages were ones I needed to keep, so I folded them into a tidy square and shoved them into my back pocket. When the time came, I would take advantage the gift I’d been given. It wasn’t something that was meant to be used lightly, something that if given the chance could sear your soul. That was the power of the amulet. Much like the One Ring to Rule Them All, the strength and seduction of the jewelry only became stronger. That was the reason Goose was so terrified of it. Pure souls—those untainted by tragedy and violence—were repulsed by the hum I found delicious. For others—like me, who had witnessed and partaken in fucked-up shit—it was like a drug.

 

“At least let me heal you.” Bells grasped my arm, but I pulled away.

 

“It’ll only clue them in to what is going on. I need to stay just like I am.” At her worried look, I gave her a grin. “Believe me, as good as you are, I’ve had worse.”

 

The last thing I needed was at the bottom of the bag. I removed the ancient-looking dagger from its sheath, studied the shining blade that didn’t match the nearly rusty hilt. It was hard to believe the thing fed off blood. Once I unlocked its hunger, I’d be forced to continue nourishing it. Good thing I always seemed to need a decent blade in my arsenal, although I would miss my trusty butterfly knife.

 

The knife didn’t fit into my pocket—too long and wide—so I stuffed it into my pants and covered it with my sweater. The metal was cool against my skin, deadened until returned to life.

 

I heard the clock chiming downstairs—once, twice, then three, four, five and six deep, resonating sounds. When the sounds stopped, I knew it was time.

 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Bells asked softly.

 

It felt cheesy to say it, but damn if it didn’t feel just right. “Let’s rock and roll.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

The entire crew had assembled by the time I arrived to the summoning, including a few new faces I didn’t recognize. A white circle of salt had been created in the middle of the dance floor, which was perfect. In order to make it my own, I only had to seal an inner circle with my blood and voila—a safe place. Not that it would matter. The moment I went balls out, the shit could hit the fan. If I was knocked from the sanctity of my personal bubble of protection, it would be a free for all.

 

Paine didn’t look at me as I approached him. His shame made the fire in my veins all the hotter, my rage all the brighter. He seemed stunned when I stopped in front of him, placed my hands on his shoulders, and lifted onto the tips of my toes to whisper in his ear, “No matter what happens, don’t open the mark between us.”

 

He gripped my waist, pulling me closer. “Why would you say something like that?” His dark eyes sought mine. “What are you up to?”

 

Lying to him hurt more than I anticipated. “I don’t want to share what you’re feeling when this is all said and done. I can’t bear it.”

 

His fingers dug into my back, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him tight. This could very well be the last moment we would ever share together, a snapshot frozen in time. I was grateful he couldn’t see into my mind as Disco could. Right now, he needed to believe what I told him, and thank God he did.

 

When he kissed me, I gave as good as I got.

 

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