Only Skin Deep: Paranormal MMM Romance, page 6
“Save it for next time,” Cassius spat under his breath.
Luca sighed, allowing Cassius to tug him down the street. He glanced over his shoulder, watching the demons glare in their direction. Once they were outside of earshot, he eyed Cassius. “You know full well they’re up to no good. Why did we back down?”
“We were on a fact-finding mission, Luc. We got some, but need more before we go on the offensive.”
They turned the corner and traveled along the sidewalk lining one of the major thoroughfares.
“We simply walk away and allow them to hurt others?”
Cassius sighed. “Luca, I know it’s written in your DNA to save people from harm, but saving our coven comes first. I won’t fight an enemy I don’t know and lose any of ours along the way.”
“We could’ve taken those guys.”
“I know,” Cassius said. “Which means they weren’t the true power behind what’s going on here. They might be the face, but there’s something a lot stronger leading the charge. I need to know what… or who.”
Cassius usually had the right answer for everything. Luca reminded himself of that fact, stuffing the desire to murder demons down deep.
“You shut down the portal before we walked away, didn't you?” Luca asked.
“Of course,” Cassius murmured. “Now we need to find a safe spot for another.”
“We’re close to Wandering Wicca,” Luca mentioned.
“That dusty, old secondhand shop?” Cassius said, wrinkling his nose. He searched the surrounding neighborhood. “I guess that’s as good as we’re getting way out here.”
Most of the witch-friendly shops were clustered close together near the heart of the city. Not counting the human locations that used the concept of witchcraft and the awful history of Salem to earn coin, but establishments run by and for witches. A few oddballs hung around the fray, like Wandering Wicca. He’d spent a lot of time inside that place when he was younger, fascinated by all the old items and the magic infused within them.
His mother had been sure to teach him to sense the distinct vibrations white and dark magic gave off, as well as what a curse felt like. She’d used the shop as an educational experience—while looking for items to put up for sale on her otherworld-only website. She’d been an early proponent of the internet and had had several businesses over the years, from fortune telling to hexes to selling magical trinkets. She still bought and sold items online, but now did it from semi-retirement with his fifth stepfather in New Orleans, which just might be witchier than Salem, according to her.
He and Cassius crossed the busy street and slipped inside Wandering Wicca, dust motes swirling around them after the bell tinkled their arrival. Luca scanned the interior, picking up on the rolling waves of power swirling about the large room. It felt quite the same as it had all those years ago, and he smiled, seeing remembered energy of his mother twirling along one aisle before she faded away. His gaze fell on the counter, which the ancient man who’d been there when he’d been a boy had sat behind. It was empty.
He’s got to be gone from this world by now.
The same ancient man came shuffling out from the back.
Oh shit, no, he’s not.
“Can I help you?”
Cassius stretched, the very air around him seeming to vibrate. “We just slipped inside to portal home, if that’s alright by you?”
“Of course, but not before you take your amulet,” the old man said. “It’s been waiting here for you for some time, Cassius.”
Cassius glared at the man. “I have nothing here that’s mine.”
“Oh,” the man said, lifting something out of the case. “It knows differently and has been calling your name, growing louder as the days pass. I have been expecting you—it started screeching just last night.”
Cassius scoffed, lifted his hand to create the portal, but paused, eyeing the trinket on the counter. Luca saw the war going on behind Cassius’ eyes, so he walked closer and examined the item himself. It was an old, old piece of gold jewelry, with a large azure stone and tiny pearls and diamonds surrounding it.
“I don’t sense any negative energy. There's no curse that I can tell,” he called over his shoulder. But there was something strong within. Something he’d never sensed before. Nothing spoke of that something being malignant, though.
“I know you.”
Luca lifted his gaze to the old man. “Yeah. I’ve been in here before.”
“Yes, you and your Gypsy mother.”
“Calé,” Luca corrected. “We don’t use gypsy.” His ancestors had been ciganos, the Romani people of Spain and Portugal. They were of a different community than the Roma—they were the Iberian Calé. Still, they experienced the same bigotry as their kin. His mother’s people had come in the late 1800s from Portugal hoping to avoid the prejudices they’d dealt with in the Old Country, only to find fresh ones in the New World. The humans hadn’t wanted them there…
Nor had the covens.
Yet the power of that place had beckoned. The Romani had been drawn to it, as had many others. The covens and humans had persecuted the Calé in Salem, witling the numbers down over the years, and driving others away. His own mother had left, seeking acceptance elsewhere, and had nearly tempted him to go with her. Had he not met Ash, he would have.
As far as Luca knew, he was the last of his kind in Salem. People with Romani heritage visited often but never seemed to stay long. Even his mother hated returning, saying the air soured in a Calé's nose—whatever that meant.
Although that was only half of his story. He didn’t know the other side of his ancestry at all. His mother claimed she didn’t know who his father was—and he was fairly sure she lied.
“Words only have power if you let them,” the old man said, shrugging. “Young people get offended by the simplest things these days.” He pushed the trinket a fraction of an inch closer with the nubby tip of his shriveled, bony finger. “I haven’t seen her, your mother, in some time. How does she fare?”
“She moved from Salem. Retired and doing well.”
“New Orleans is a good place for her,” he murmured, his voice reed thin. “It’s a haven for Gypsies and their sort. All kinds of baubles for her to sell there.”
Luca narrowed his eyes, glaring at the man. How had he known where she was? “Call her that again and we’ll have words.”
A glittering light sparkled in the old man’s eyes, belying his age.
Cassius placed a hand on Luca’s arm before reaching past him to collect the gem. He surveyed it in his palm before glaring at the proprietor. “Where did you find this?”
“As with all of my collection, items tend to find me, not the other way around.”
Luca scowled. “Why do these old fuckers constantly talk in riddles?”
The man’s face split into an evil smile, his teeth no longer as straight as they’d been moments before. The jagged spikes sent cold seeping into Luca’s heart. The man’s eyes turned black, and when he spoke again, the sound was less than human. “Because there is knowledge of this world that infants like yourself are unprepared to learn.”
As quickly as the evil appeared, it vanished.
“What do I owe you for this?” Cassius asked, unruffled. Luca wished he was as cool, calm, and collected after witnessing what he just had.
“As I said, it’s yours.”
“Nothing in this world is free,” Cassius said. “All magic has a price.”
“Indeed. It does,” the man said. “But it is already yours. I cannot in good faith take payment for an item which does not belong to me.”
Cassius’ gaze flipped to Luca’s for a split second before he gazed at the man again. “Fine. I’ll take it.”
Just as he was sliding it into his pocket, the old man lifted a finger, a fearful look spreading across his face. “Just one more look, please.”
He held out his trembling, wizened hand.
Cassius laid it in the man’s palm. The old man smiled, caressing the surface with a tip of his finger. “It is lovely, isn’t it? It’s been here waiting for such a long time. For a while, I wondered if it might never leave. Hoped for it, actually.”
The seconds ticked by, and the man continued his adoration, ignoring their presence. Cassius coughed, and the man’s face spun to them, the evil, jagged-toothed face reemerging.
“We need to be going,” Cassius said. “I can leave it here if you can’t part with it.”
For a moment, Luca was almost sure the man wouldn’t give up the jewel. Finally, his normal crotchety face appeared, and he handed the trinket to Cassius. “Keep him safe.”
“Of course,” Cassius murmured. He elbowed Luca and nodded toward an entryway leading to the back. “Can I borrow your door for a moment?”
“Be my guest,” the man murmured, smiling.
Cassius waved his hand as they crossed the room, gathering magic, before reaching for the knob. They walked through and were suddenly in Enchanted Ink’s fourth-floor lounge. Luca shut the door, and Cassius spun, shuttering the portal—and adding a boost of magic.
“What was that?”
“Ensuring he can’t trail us here.”
“But you closed the portal.”
Cassius sighed. “You have no idea what that was, do you?”
“Well, he was giving Gollum vibes with that gemstone of yours. I was just waiting for him to break out the ‘my precious’ and call us filthy, stinking hobbitses.”
Cassius attempted to stifle a grin, but failed. “Luca… you’re still young and you have a lot to learn. That was an ancient one.”
“Well, yeah. He was old when I was a kid.”
“No… as in… a primordial witch. An elemental. He’s probably been around since the dawn of existence and will probably be around long after we’re both dust.”
Luca’s eyes widened. “No wonder my mother told me to steer clear of him when we were there.”
“I’m amazed your mother took you in there as a child. He’s dangerous.” Cassius took the gem from his pocket. “And even though I don’t sense any evil in this, I fear I’ve made a mistake bringing it here.” He lifted his gaze to Luca. “That particular primordial is what you might deem chaotic neutral. He’s not necessarily evil, nor is he good. And if the past tells me anything, he enjoys a bit of pot stirring. Demons coming to town likely have him all warm and fuzzy inside.”
“There’s nothing warm and fuzzy about that witch,” Luca said.
“True.” Cassius hefted the jewel in his hand. “I need to get it home and bind the power within it.” With the wave of his fingers, he materialized the drawing of the demon shop. “Can you take this to Atlas so he can start his research?”
“Yeah,” Luca said, taking the parchment. “Of course.”
Cassius nodded before disappearing in a swirl of smoke and light. Cassius was one of the few who could teleport damned near anywhere. The portals had been for Luca’s benefit, not Cassius’. He scanned the parchment in his hand again, a tremor racing up his spine at how eerily accurate it was. The same black, evil aura seemed to glow right from the page.
Oz sauntered in, carrying a tray of ink vials. Each glowed with their own light and magic. “Howdy, Luc.” He laid the tray on the narrow island on the other side of the kitchenette. “I’ve got that ink you asked for.”
“Thanks,” Luca said, taking the two potion bottles handed to him.
Oz was their botanical witch—who made all their tattoo inks and many of their salves in-house. He spent most of his time in the rooftop garden and conservatory, growing the many plants and herbs they needed to keep the magic flowing. He also helped fill the shelves of two of the shops surrounding Enchanted Ink: Practical Magic and the Moonlight Mandrake. The first was a Bath and Body Works-type shop for supernatural beings and the magically inclined, along with some special, stronger potions in the back room. The second sold a variety of flowers, herbs, and plants—some straight from Oz’s garden. There were seven businesses in total, three on either side of the tattoo shop.
“What the hell is that?” Oz asked, eyeing the image in Luca’s hand.
“A big problem. For us all.”
Chapter
Five
Ash pulled up outside four-five-nine-six Parkland Avenue and viewed the comfortable-looking cottage. The longer he looked, the more he noted some wear. Paint peeled here and there. One shudder was slightly askew. A corner of one gutter hung too low. Things easily fixed if one understood what he was doing. The urge to go play handyman screamed in his veins.
Protect what was theirs.
He knew Luca would have his ass if he was caught sneaking a peek at their mate, but he’d been incapable of not digging. It was what he did, and not just because he was a detective. He was a squirrel-shifter, and rooting out the good stuff was in his DNA. Leaning back in his seat, he scanned the idyllic, tree-lined neighborhood. It would’ve been the perfect setting for a Norman Rockwell painting.
Dappled sunlight washed over kids playing farther down the sidewalk, running and screaming with abandon. A faint breeze caused the verdant leaves to flutter and dance. The distant scent of rain filled his unmarked police car as he surveyed the house.
From his vantage point, he didn’t see any movement inside.
Luca came to mind, and Ash realized his mate wouldn’t be pleased with him as it was. He’d be even more upset if Ash knocked on the front door, but he soon climbed from behind the wheel and did just that. No one answered his two attempts. He was ready to give in and go when the realization that Colby’s studio might be in the back tempted a peek. The backyard was neat, a small deck with a grill and table and chairs set rested there, close to a large garage—or what had once been one.
The garage doors had been replaced with a new wall and a wide set of windows. Glancing inside as he passed, he noted movement within. He sidled up to the glass door and lifted his hand to knock. I should wait. Let Fate run its course. Just like Luca said. What am I doing?
Unable to stop himself, he knocked on the door and heard shuffling from behind it. Colby approached, frowning as he spied Ash through the glass. He opened it, wiping his clay-covered hands with a rag, his eyes darting to Ash’s badge on his belt.
“Can I help you?”
A fine tremor raced up Ash’s spine at the same time his mate’s mark began to tingle and burn. Without looking, he felt the rest of the swirl was forming.
“Are you Colby Kennedy?”
“Yes, I a—” Colby paused, lifting his arm, and screaming bloody murder.
Ash startled. He recognized the mark’s creation hurt, but the pain wasn’t that intense. Although he was a shifter. Colby was human. He had no idea how a human would react to it. He moved closer to eye the mark—only there was no mate’s mark. There was another weird dark-glowing rune and, radiating from it, flesh rotted. It quickly spread all over Colby’s arm in an instant as he screamed.
Colby collapsed, and Ash caught him before he hit the ground. It was the melting man all over again—only this time, it wasn’t some random person. It was their mate.
Adrenaline shot through his veins, his own heartbeat deafening. He lifted Colby into his arms and rushed to his police car. Once he’d laid their mate on the backseat, he slid behind the wheel, turned on the engine, and floored it, before flipping on his sirens and speeding across town toward Enchanted Ink.
Luca can save him…
If I can get there in time…
Cars pulled out of his way as he careened down busy secondaries. Fishtailing around a corner, he nearly lost control—correcting at the last second before nearly slamming sideways into a brick wall. Colby grew silent in the backseat. Fearful of wasting a single second, he floored it again, praying to the powers of the universe that Colby had passed out and not died in his backseat.
He came to a screeching halt outside the shop, sirens still blaring, and screamed for help. Climbing into the backseat, he carefully checked for a pulse and nearly sobbed with gratitude when he found one. He carefully dragged Colby out, their human stiffening and moaning with every move. The rot had traveled nearly half his body and continued to grow, spreading like evil tentacles, spoiling his perfect skin.
He lifted Colby into his arms, continuing to scream outside the doors. Almost there, Cassius opened the door to Enchanted Ink and peered out. One glimpse, and Cassius shut the door, waved his hand, and reopened it. As Ash raced through the entryway portal, he reappeared in the fourth-floor lounge.
Cassius poked his head in. “Get him into one of the bedrooms. I’ll get Luca.”
Ash nodded before the door closed. He spun toward the closest bedroom, praying no one was sleeping or fucking inside it. He kicked the door in and luckily found it empty. Colby writhed, his mournful moans breaking Ash’s heart.
Colby’s amber gaze opened and pegged him with a glare. “Daniel. I… I need… Daniel…”
He let out a bloodcurdling scream before passing out again.
Luca rushed in and observed them both, eyes wide. “What in the…”
“It’s Colby… and he’s rotting away.” Ash stalked to the bed, gently laying their mate down. “What is this, Luc?”
Luca knelt on the bed, drawing on latex gloves before cutting Colby’s clothes away, noting the rune. “This like your melting man?”
“Exactly like my melting man,” Ash replied.
They shared a split-second glance before Eli rushed in with Luca’s tattoo equipment. Oz was right behind him with a large vial of healing ink and a cluster of herbs. Luca closed his eyes, whispering an incantation Ash had overheard him murmur before. When he was done, he reached for his tattoo gun and began work on a piece of skin far away from the rot.
Cassius walked in, eyeing the carnage. “Ash, this is likely demon activity. Luca and I just checked out a new tattoo shop in town. The place is called Dark Arts. Tattooing curses would be right up their alley.”
Ash turned his attention to Luca’s quickly sketched tattoo and the war between it and the curse. “You confronted demons? Without me?”
