Monster (A Cassidy Edwards Novel - Book 1) (13 page)

I returned to my bed, unsettled.

How did Dorian have access to my mind? This situation was getting hairy. Every instinct told me to run away from it.

But I couldn’t. Could I?

I had my own game. Revenge. Revenge on Emilio.

My thoughts swirled in my head for a bit, but soon I had made up my mind. It was time for me to leave. I’d helped Lucian out at the dig; my contract was finished, really. It was time that I got my pay and hopefully, some useful information about Emilio.

I didn’t really have a choice. If I stayed, I had no doubt that Dorian would try to make me his puppet—and I already knew that I didn’t want to be involved in whatever he was masterminding.

The Terzi Hex Net

I woke up late. It was well after lunch by the time I dragged myself out of bed, quickly showered, dumped Ricky out of my boot, and headed toward the kitchen.

“It’s on the news,” I heard Heath say as I paused at the door. “Gnarly.”

“What is?” Tabitha asked.

I opened the kitchen door enough to peek through the crack.

“Two bodies,” Heath provided in a near whisper. “The police found two bodies, drained of blood.”

Tabitha slapped her hands on the counter. “And you still lost his trail!” she snapped. “What kind of werewolf are you? Why does Lucian only hire misfits? You’re all brawn and no brain!”

Heath’s shoulders drooped. “Hey, man, I did track him,” he defended himself. “He just disappeared. Vanished. Like he could fly or something.”

There was a hint of a hound-dog whine in his voice. It made me smile. I pushed the kitchen door back with a bang.

They both looked up at me, startled.

“Lucian’s meeting the client,” Tabitha informed me coolly. She was dressed in another evening gown—a silver spangled concoction. Her heels were at least eight inches tall. “He’ll be gone for a few days.”

It was my turn to be surprised. “Days?” I repeated, a tad annoyed. So much for ending my contract and getting my information today.

Tabitha didn’t respond.

Heath just stood there by the counter, hovering over a big platter of scrambled eggs. He wore another Hawaiian shirt, a green one with white palm trees this time. Clearly, he didn’t possess any other kind.

An awkward silence fell.

Tabitha merely watched me as Heath bolted down his eggs. Once, he shoved the platter my way in silent invitation, but I politely declined.

When it was apparent that nothing else was going to happen, I dusted my hands and announced, “Well then, guess I’ll go see the sights.” Also, watching Heath eat had made me hungry.

“Have fun,” the werewolf offered with a cheerful smile.

Tabitha didn’t say a word. But then, I hadn’t expected her to.

I detoured to my room to collect Ricky. He was still snoring on the carpet where I’d dumped him. I scooped him back into the spice bottle without him so much as opening an eye.

The day was bright. The few clouds dotting the sky were big, white, and puffy. I leaned against a bridge railing for a bit and just watched them as they piled into different shapes. But then I started to feel my need to feed, so I headed for the crowded piazzas for lunch.

My mood perked up. The sun was up, and that meant that vampires weren’t going to be running around. I could relax and enjoy Venice some.

It didn’t take long to settle into my role of tourist—well, a mana-sucking tourist, anyway. I passed the hours partaking of a variety of mana and appreciating the sights of historical Venice with Ricky snoring in my pocket.

By the time late afternoon arrived, I was full and ready to return to the villa before the sun set and I risked finding myself face-to-face with Dorian. My thoughts wandered as I trudged back through the narrow alleys. The room filled with marionettes suddenly came to mind. Did Lucian really have that many voodoo dolls? Perhaps, I could just sneak up there and see what the imp was talking about. After all, it was Ricky and he was drunk at the time—not the most reliable source of information in either case.

Flirting with the idea of snooping, I hurried back and found—much to my delight—that the villa was deserted. But I’d just placed a foot on the first step of the staircase when I heard voices outside of the front door and both Tabitha and Heath entered.

Neither looked inclined to chitchat—so, I gave them a friendly wave and closeted myself in my room.

I could wait. I’d check out the marionettes later.

With a yawn, I sprawled out on my bed. My stomach was pleasantly full. And deciding that a little extra sleep was just the thing I needed, I closed my eyes.

But this time, the night was a restless one.

Several times, I woke with the distinct feeling I was being watched. Twice, I could have sworn something hovered on the ceiling, but it darted away before I could be sure.

Sometime past midnight, I heard my name.

Cassidy
.

The soft burr of a Scottish accent couldn’t be missed.

Dorian.

I buried my head in my pillows, but of course, it made little difference.

Again, I saw the suitcase of voodoo dolls with my mind’s eye. It was pretty obvious what he wanted. But even though I didn’t feel inclined to betray Dorian to the others, I didn’t feel particularly motivated to help him, either.

His whispering lasted for a few hours. Persistent. Continuous. After a bit, I got up and swore out the window at him, but he only chuckled in response.

Finally, dawn broke and he was gone.

Dark circles ringed my eyes the next morning. After such a night, I wanted mana, and I wanted it badly. I didn’t even bother telling Heath and Tabitha goodbye. I just stalked out the front door.

The day passed in much the same manner as the day before.

At first, anyway.

Lunchtime found me wandering around Piazza San Marco—illegally feeding bread to the pigeons behind the backs of the 
poliziotti
—when I noticed the flash of a red cloak. It tuned me into the fact that Tabitha was following me. I mean, really? Tailing in a red cloak? She obviously didn’t care if I discovered her

Now aware that I was being shadowed, it didn’t take long for me to catch Heath at it, too. He was more discreet than Tabitha, but he was still pretty bad at it.

They trailed me the entire day. And when I returned to the villa, they arrived a few minutes later, just like before.

So, they’d probably done it the day before as well.

I wondered why; were they bored? No, most likely they had orders from Lucian to do it because he thought I was a Terzi mole.

Irritated, I retired to my room without even speaking.

As I entered the lavender room, it suddenly dawned on me that I probably 
had
 been watched last night.

No doubt, Tabitha had hung there on the ceiling, her little beady lizard eyes glued to me the entire night. Or, perhaps she’d used her 
invis
-ability on me. The thought was disturbing, to say the least.

The following night was even worse than the previous one. I never saw Tabitha hunched on the ceiling—but I did hear Dorian yammering my name in my head all night, along with more vivid and zoomed-in images of the suitcase. I guess he figured I was dense. He kept at it with repeated urgency, but I only ignored him.

As the first rays of sun broke the horizon, I donned a pair of ripped jean shorts and a tank top. Dumping Ricky out of my boot, I stomped into the kitchen, ragged with exhaustion and determined to confront my amateur snoops.

A moment later, Tabitha and Heath entered the kitchen behind me. Cripes, they were really bad at this.

“Where’s Lord Rowle? Is he back yet?” Smiling at their lack of awareness, I feigned blissful ignorance. “It’s really crucial I speak with him about something.”

Tabitha shrugged. “We’re merely supposed to wait,” she replied unhelpfully.

“And do what?” I asked pointedly. “Continue to take in the Venetian sights while you both spy on me all day long? Yes, I’m well aware that I’m your suspicious little pet project.”

They both looked at me in mild astonishment. I didn’t wait for them to explain themselves. I just rolled my eyes and left the villa.

I was done. 
Finito
.

After grabbing breakfast, I’d pack my suitcase and head to the airport. I’d demand my payment from Lucian via email or something, because I was done hanging around in Venice just to be used as a pawn or thought of as a traitor. With every day that passed, it became clearer to me that I had no business getting mixed up in a vendetta centuries old. Obviously, it wasn’t going to be resolved anytime soon.

It was still morning, but it was already getting hot. At times, I found the stench from the canals almost eye-wateringly unbearable.

I was halfway to Rialto Bridge before I remembered I’d left Ricky in my room. Oh well, I was going to leave, anyway. He could take dust baths in turmeric all day long if he wanted.

The tourists were out in force that day.

I stood there for a moment, simply recovering from the horrendous night and inhaling the delectable mana scents floating my way.

A young couple. I headed towards them before I realized they were hungover. My face fell in disappointment. I never partook of subpar mana. It would only make me sick. I chose the next best thing to honeymooners: A backpacker. I consumed a bit and then closed my eyes in momentary bliss as I turned away.

Right into Lucian.

A moment of acute anxiety flooded me. Had he just seen me?

Feigning surprise, I was about to make some snarky comment when he gave a rough laugh and breathed in my ear. “And what are you up to—rendezvousing with your Terzi handlers?”

I scowled and stepped back.

But then all hell broke loose.

Pain coursed through me. I was glued to the spot just like I’d grabbed some high-voltage—and then some—line that cemented my fate to be burnt into a crisp. I couldn’t move. Even my vampire-like strength failed me. Burning pain overwhelmed me. I couldn’t even cry tears of agony.

I was helpless.

A strong arm snagged me by the waist, and I was yanked away so hard that for several long moments, I couldn’t breathe.

Finally, I managed to suck in a huge, wavering gasp of air.

Dark hair brushed my cheek. Lucian. Lucian had rescued me. I hung there like a limp doll in his arms, incapable of moving and utterly confused.

His face registered shocked confusion as well, but for an entirely different reason. “You really aren’t working for them,” he said in a tone of outright astonishment.

I could hardly understand him. My brain felt numb, along with my entire body.

“Hey, need some help?” A few concerned tourists headed our way.

With an easy laugh, Lucian brushed them aside. “She’s had just a bit too much,” he called back with a reassuring smile.

Their concern turned into disgust. One of them muttered it wasn’t even lunchtime yet, but they obligingly moved away.

Lucian took the opportunity to seize me by the waist and toss me over his shoulder, quickly navigating through the crowds and into a relatively deserted alley. Finding a covered porch, he set me down and knelt by my side.

“A moment,” he promised in a soft murmur. “You’ll feel better in a moment.”

Feel? I wanted to shout at him that the fact I couldn’t feel 
was
 the problem, but I couldn’t move my lips.

A faint blue light glowed between his cupped hands. It grew into the size of a golf ball before he reached over and dropped it on my forehead.

At once, the numbness disappeared only to be replaced by cramping pain, ringing ears, and blurred vision. I gasped. What had he 
done
? Numbness was far superior to the horrendous pain I felt 
now
.

It took a few moments, but the symptoms passed, leaving me feeling weak and drained. Shaking, I glanced down at myself. My palms were blistered and my knees bloodied. I looked exactly like I felt.

Rattled, I turned on Lucian but pulled up short. He had collapsed against the iron porch railing, agony written upon his handsome face.

“Are you ok?” I asked, grabbing his arm. “What is it? What happened?”

He opened his eyes. After several steadying breaths, he appeared to regain control. “It’s a Terzi hex net,” he informed me in a hiss, pressing a finger against his carved lips for silence. “It’s broken, for now.”

I frowned. A hex net? He looked as drained as I felt. Who knew curses were such painful business. No wonder he had rock-hard abs. I opened my mouth to ask more about the hex net when he rose to his feet.

“We have to get out of here,” he warned in a low voice. “It’s coming again.”

I struggled to my feet, still overwhelmed by fatigue. There was no doubt what he meant by 
it.
 And I, for one, wasn’t too keen to experience the Terzi hex net again.

He grabbed my hand and, pulling me after him, set off down the cobbled street at a rapid pace.

Several times, he suddenly reeled back or turned at a sharp angle. I suppose anyone watching us would have thought us both intoxicated, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be caught.

Suddenly, he whirled into an arched door and scooped me against his chest. Weaving his hand rapidly in the air in some kind of spell, he ordered, “Hold still. Don’t move. 
Not one sound. Your life depends upon it.”

I didn’t even ask. I saw it this time.

I 
smelled
 it.

Fingers of light—almost invisible—washing over the ground we’d just covered. It was mana, but it was mixed, infused with a thousand scents. I hadn’t been able to distinguish it from the mix of the crowd around me the first time, but I knew that I’d never be able to forget that particular combination of scents ever again.

The fingers formed a web as they moved, sliding up the walls, slinking our way. I scarcely dared to breathe. It was all I could do to keep from screaming bloody murder as the fingers of light slipped up my leg and inched slowly up my back to entwine in my hair before migrating over to do the same to Lucian.

I stood as still as a statue. I could feel a bead of sweat roll down my forehead.

Seeking and wriggling in all directions, the fingers poked and prodded, but whatever spell Lucian had cast held. Apparently, he’d rendered them blind.