Blue-Blooded Vamp by Jaye Wells Read Free Book Online Page B

crossing my arms. “What gives?”
    He looked better than he had the night before, in that he was sober, but the scowl on his face said someone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning.
    “For the record,” he said, “I tried Abel’s cell last night after you left. He didn’t answer.”
    “Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” Adam said.
    “So?” I said.
    “So, I called him five times this morning, too. Voice mail, every time.”
    “Hey, Erron!” Giguhl called, rushing across the shop to high-five the Recreant. Erron lifted his hand halfheartedly to receive the demon’s claw, but his eyes were on me.
    “Well?” he said.
    “Well, what?”
    Erron raised his hands. “Doesn’t it worry you that the mage you’re seeking isn’t answering his phone?”
    Despite the fact I shared Erron’s concerns about the status of Abel’s existence, I wasn’t about to indulge in hand wringing. “There’s only one way to find out for sure, which we can finally do now that you’ve graced us with your presence.”
    Erron raised his eyebrows. “You sure you want to do this?”
    I sighed. “I believe we’ve already covered this.”
    “I know, just want to be sure you know there’s no shame in backing out.”
    I looked him directly in the eye. “Yes, there is. But no one’s stopping you from running if that’s what this is really about.”
    “How would you find Abel then?”
    “We’ll manage. Between Adam, Giguhl, and me, we’ve made it through all sorts of impossible situations. Granted, this is the most impossible, but still. There’s too much riding on this for any of us to lack commitment. I don’t blame you for being scared, but I don’t have that luxury. So if you want to walk away, say so now.”
    He fell silent, his gaze locked with mine. “You sure know how to put a man’s balls in a vise, Mixed-Blood.”
    I smirked. “This isn’t about your balls.”
    “Bullshit.” He blew out a breath. “All right. I’m in.”
    “Yes!” Giguhl said, pumping a fist in the air.
    I smiled at the Recreant. “Grab whatever supplies you need.”
    He hefted his backpack and the guitar case in his right hand. “This is all I need.”
    I didn’t comment that his light load clearly indicated he wasn’t planning on an extended visit in Italy. But I’d take whatever help he was willing to give as long as he was willing to give it. “Okay, then, help Adam and Giguhl load the rest of the stuff. We head out in five.”
    He nodded and turned to talk to Adam. While they discussed logistics, Zen waved me over to the counter. A few amulets lay on a black cloth she’d spread out. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll make this quick. This”—she picked up the first item, a small bag that smelled like gym socks—“this is a vexing gris-gris. Throw it at an enemy and they’ll be so busy scratching you can make a quick getaway.”
    “How long does the spell last?”
    “Not long. A few minutes. But it’s long enough to give yourself a head start.”
    “Got it,” I said with a nod. I tucked the gris-gris into my jacket pocket. “What’s next?”
    “This is a gris-gris of protection for travelers.” She held up a black bag tied with a small metal charm and an evil eye protection bead. I sniffed the bag and was surprised to smell the pleasing scents of rosemary and sage. “That’s a St. Christopher medal,” she explained, touching the charm. “He’s the patron saint of travelers.”
    I grimaced. As much as I appreciated the effort, I didn’t put much stock in any spell that invoked mortal saints. Smacked too much of superstition to me to be useful.
    “Now, don’t give me that look, Mixed-Blood. My saints and the Loa are every bit as real and powerful as your deities.” She shoved the bag into my hand. “Go on, now.”
    “Thanks, Zen,” I said. The black gris-gris went in my other pocket.
    “Finally, there’s this.” She picked up an amulet hanging from a long leather cord. The amulet