by Tracy Wolff
Which must do the trick, because she answers. “To strip a paranormal of their powers requires the magical consent of all five ruling factions, by covenant. But simply bringing him back as a vampire, since he’s already crossed into the mortal coil again, requires only power. Enormous power. And that power can be found in magical objects.”
Jaxon nods. “Every faction has magical objects that hold the most power, so we’ll need at least four from the different factions to have enough power.” But then his eyebrows shoot up, and he pivots to the Bloodletter. “Wait. How can we have an item from all five factions if Grace is the only gargoyle in existence?”
As though she’d been expecting this question, she continues. “The four items needed to bring him back are the eyetooth of an alpha werewolf. The moonstone from a powerful warlock. The bloodstone from a born vampire. And the full bone of a dragon. Which combined should have enough power.” The Bloodletter’s eyes take on that eerie electric-green glow as she mentions the last item we need. “But you’ll need the heartstone a mythical Unkillable Beast protects to have enough power to break the covenant and strip Hudson of his powers.”
Jaxon doesn’t seem to notice the change in his mentor. “We can get some of the items at school,” he insists. “A couple of the other ones we’ll have to travel to find, though.”
“And I can ensure the bloodstone comes to you,” the Bloodletter promises.
“How are you going to do that?” Jaxon turns to her and asks. “Bloodstones are incredibly rare.”
The Bloodletter shrugs. “People owe me favors.”
“That’s not an answer,” Jaxon insists. Her only response is an attempt to stare him down, holding his gaze with the green ice of hers. Somehow, Jaxon doesn’t flinch under her glacial stare.
“Looks like they’re going to be at that for a while,” Hudson says with an exaggerated eye roll. “I say we make a break for it.”
“Yes, because the only thing worse than having you trapped in my head is having you trapped in my head while I wander the Alaskan wilderness, freezing and alone.” The thanks but no thanks is implied.
“No pain, no gain.” He chuckles.
“Easy for you to say when you’ll be getting all the gain and none of the pain.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” There’s an inflection in his voice that has me wondering what’s up. But when I glance back at him, his face is as blank as the snow Jaxon and I traversed to get here.
Still, Hudson has a point about what looks to be turning into the world’s longest staring contest between the world’s two most stubborn people. If I don’t break it up soon, I’m pretty sure we’ll be here all night.
“So this wall thing I need to build,” I say into the tense silence that blankets the cavern. “How exactly do I do that? Because I am more than ready to take a break from Hudson Vega.”
36
DIY Exorcism
“You already started,” the Bloodletter tells me, “before I put you to sleep. You started laying the groundwork instinctively.”
“But how did I do that? How do I build this mythical, mystical wall? And what makes you think I’ve already started?” I ask, more confused than ever.
“I knew you’d started the minute you began hearing Hudson’s voice. Because he didn’t talk to you when he was free to take control of you. It’s only after you started to impede that freedom that he had something to say.”
“That’s not true!” Hudson throws his hands up. “I’ve been trying to get your attention all along. You just couldn’t listen until Yoda here taught you how to make an illusion real.”
“Wait a minute.” I turn to the Bloodletter in horror. “You mean I’ll still be able to hear him, even after I wall him up?” Just the idea turns my stomach. “I thought the whole point was to get rid of him.”
“The whole point is to make sure he can’t take you over anymore. The wall will prevent that, at least for a while. But now that he’s figured out how to get your attention…” She shakes her head. “I don’t think we’ll be able to do anything about that.”
Jaxon balls his fists at this statement, but he doesn’t say a word.
I sigh. “Well, this day just got a whole lot worse, didn’t it?”
Hudson shakes his head. “You really think it’s any better for me? At least you haven’t been able to hear me for the last two days. I’ve heard every thought you’ve had, and let me tell you, they weren’t all gems. Especially the hours you spend thinking about my dreamy baby brother,” Hudson tells me. “Not fun. Not fun at all.”
“Then do us both a favor and get out!” I turn and yell at him, not caring that Jaxon and the Bloodletter hear me. I’m more than a little embarrassed at the idea of Hudson being privy to all my thoughts, especially the ones about Jaxon.
“What the everlasting bloody hell do you think I’ve been trying to do?” he answers. “You think I decided to pick a fight with an alpha werewolf just for fun? Believe me, there are better ways for me to get my kicks—even when I’m locked up with you.”
Hudson keeps talking about how miserable it is to be locked up inside me—like I don’t know that already—but I stop listening as I try to work through everything he just said about the fight with Cole.
None of it makes sense, unless— “Jaxon? What are the five things the spell says we need to get Hudson out of my body for good again?”
“Four,” Hudson snaps. “You need four things. One, two, three, four. Even a kindergartener can count that high.”
“Temper tantrums are so unbecoming,” I throw at him over my shoulder without taking my eyes off Jaxon.
“Yeah, well, so is ignorance, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping you.”
That gets my attention, and I turn to Hudson and smile. “Maybe I can sew up your mouth while I’m walling you away. Surely there’s a spell for that somewhere.” I keep my voice saccharin sweet.
“Yeah, because I’m totally the one with the temper here.” He rolls his eyes.
Jaxon’s gaze darts between me and roughly the direction I’ve been looking in for a few seconds before he decides to settle back on me. “The first thing we need is a vampire’s bloodstone,” he tells me. “That’s a stone that’s formed when droplets of a vampire’s blood are put under extreme pressure. Like how a diamond is made.”
Wow. If that doesn’t give a whole new kind of horrific meaning to the term “blood diamond,” then I don’t know what does. “So there are a lot of these stones out there, just floating around?”
“That’s the thing. There aren’t that many of them at all. It’s a really difficult process to get right, so very few vampires have them. I mean, my family has several—including the ones in the king’s and queen’s crowns—but they’re very closely guarded. Which is why I’m worried about getting my hands on one to—”
“I already told you that I’ll find a way for one to come within your grasp,” the Bloodletter interjects. “We’re vampires, for God’s sake. Getting a bloodstone is the least of your problems.”
“So what’s the worst of our problems, then?” I ask, because I’d rather have the bad news first. And I’m tired of hearing everything piecemeal. For once, I’d like the whole picture up front.
“Dragon bone,” Hudson and Jaxon both say at the exact same time.
“Dragon bone?” I repeat, mind boggled. “Like a real, live dragon bone?”
“Actually, a real, dead dragon bone,” Hudson answers, poker-faced. “Considering most live dragons tend to be using their bones, and nobody likes a grumpy dragon.”
“Where would we find dead dragon bone?”
Jaxon gives me a weird look at my emphasis on the word “dead,” but he answers, “Dragon Boneyard,” at the exact same time that Hudson does—again.
“Dragon Boneyard?” I repeat. “That doesn’t sound terrifying at all.”
> “You have no idea,” Hudson says. “I keep trying to figure out how we’ll navigate the boneyard. It’s going to be a disaster.”
“I don’t think I even want to know yet. One problem at a—” I freeze as something occurs to me. “Hey, wait. You really do know what we need to perform the spell.”
“Nothing gets by you.” Hudson gives me a fake, wide-eyed look, then growls, “No shit, Sherlock.”
“You know, you really don’t have to be so intolerable all the time,” I admonish.
“And here I thought you liked intolerable guys. You are dating Jaxy-Waxy, after all.”
“Your brother’s not intolerable,” I tell him, a little offended on Jaxon’s behalf.
“Says the girl who’s known him less than two weeks.”
I ignore him—not because there’s a part of me that thinks he might be right but because I don’t have time for this right now. We have things that need to get done, and they have nothing to do with my and Jaxon’s relationship.
“So we need a bone from a dead dragon and a bloodstone from the vampires,” I tell Jaxon. “We already have something from the alpha werewolf. And the athame of a powerful warlock, courtesy of Hudson, although actually, not sure why we needed that. Wasn’t the warlock thing supposed to be a stone?”
Jaxon’s eyes widen as he realizes where I’m going. “You think that’s what Hudson was doing when he…” He trails off, like even saying the word is too much.
“Body snatched me? It would seem so.”
“The spell only calls for a tooth, though,” Jaxon says. “Why all the excess blood?”
“I already told you Cole’s got an attitude problem,” Hudson answers. “And apparently a chip on his shoulder a mile wide when it comes to you, Grace.”
“Hudson says Cole freaked out and the extra blood was an accident.” I pause, unsure if this next bit sounds like I’m defending him. “Cole and I haven’t exactly had the best relationship since I got to Katmere.”
Jaxon nods. “That’s an understatement. Although did Hudson really have to nearly kill him?”
“Tomato, to-mah-to,” Hudson answers with a negligible little shrug that does nothing to hide the satisfied gleam in his eyes, one that reminds me an awful lot of Jaxon after he, too, nearly drained Cole dry.
I wonder what Hudson—what either of them—would do if I told them that they have way more in common than they could possibly imagine.
Probably scream at the messenger, and who’s got time for that? Especially when Jaxon already looks so tense that I fear he might start shaking the ground at any moment.
So instead, I content myself with saying, “You’re terrible, you know that?” to Hudson before turning back to Jaxon. “So does the athame help?”
“Actually, no,” Jaxon answers, a contemplative look on his face. “The fourth item is a talisman from one of the seven main covens. I’m not sure why he took the athame.”
“Because at the center of the athame’s hilt is a talisman—a moonstone,” Hudson answers in a voice that clearly says how he thinks Jaxon is a child. “You’re welcome.”
“Which you’re going to share the location of immediately.” I don’t even bother to make it a question.
“Of course, Grace.” He gives me the most condescending smile in existence. “How can I resist when you ask so nicely?”
I relay what he said about the talisman to Jaxon and pretend I don’t notice the way my boyfriend’s eyes narrow at the in-his-face knowledge that I’m carrying on a full-blown conversation with Hudson at the same time I’m talking to him.
“The fifth item is near the North Pole,” Jaxon continues with a deliberate sneer on his mouth as he says it—definitely rubbing in the whole “we’re going to make you human and you have no say in it” thing to Hudson. Which, not going to lie, is totally well deserved after everything Hudson did.
“The North Pole? What’s there? I mean, besides Santa’s workshop?”
Jaxon and the Bloodletter both kind of raise eyebrows at that, so I give them a sheepish smile. “Not the right time for levity, huh?”
“I thought it was funny,” Hudson says. “Besides, I bet you’d look cute in one of those tiny little elf costumes with the bells on the toes.”
“Excuse me?” I say, not sure if he’s making fun of how short I am or if he’s implying something lascivious and inappropriate. Either way, I’m really not okay with it.
For once, Hudson is mysteriously silent. The jerk.
“The Unkillable Beast,” the Bloodletter finally answers, and there’s something in the way she says it that has me looking at her more closely. Something that has the hair on the back of my neck standing up and the rest of me trying to figure out just what feels so off about the voice she used.
But her face is impassive, her eyes placid pools of green, so I decide I must have imagined it. And focus instead on what she said and not how she said it. “Unkillable?” I repeat. “That sounds very…not good.”
“You have no idea,” the Bloodletter agrees. “But it’s the only way to break the covenant and take Hudson’s power away for good.”
I expect Hudson to protest the idea—maybe something snarky about no reason to get ourselves killed on his account when he’s quite happy keeping his power—but he doesn’t say a word. He just stares at the Bloodletter with his sharp, watchful gaze.
When I turn back to Jaxon, it’s to find him and the Bloodletter watching me expectantly. “I’m sorry, did I miss something?” I lift my brows in question.
“I asked if you wanted to try the wall thing,” Jaxon says.
I don’t even pause to give Hudson a chance to react. “Good God, yes.”
Because a thought is starting to take form in my head that has dread pooling in my stomach. If Hudson already knew how to get out and was taking control of my body to make that happen… What was he planning on doing once he was out? Kill them all?
“There’s that mean streak in you again, Grace.”
It’s only after Hudson walks into the shadows and disappears that I realize he never answered my question.
37
Sweet Dreams Are
Made of Anything
But This
Turns out, building a mental wall isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. Just placing individual bricks around a part of my mind. And the Bloodletter was right: my own defense mechanisms had gotten started all on their own, so the only thing I had to do was finish piling them higher and mortar them in place with sheer grit and determination.
Several hours later, after the Bloodletter had satisfied herself that the wall would hold, she lowers the bars and sets me free again.
I all but run out of the room and throw myself into Jaxon’s arms. No offense to the Bloodletter and her ice cave, but I can’t get back to school soon enough. Something about being trapped in a frozen cage and having no control over my life or my fate just does that to me. Shocking, I know.
Turns out, leaving isn’t quite possible yet, though, not when Jaxon has gone to the trouble of setting out the meal Uncle Finn had insisted we pack for me.
“Thank you so much,” I tell him as I all but devour the turkey sandwich and chips he’s arranged on a napkin beside a thermos of water. “This might be my new favorite food in the world.”
Jaxon raises one eyebrow. “And what would your old favorite food have been?”
I laugh. “I’m from San Diego. Tacos, of course.”
Now that I’ve eaten, I can feel, maybe, a little bit more hospitable to the woman who kept me locked in a cage all night. Maybe. So I force myself to smile and say, “Thank you for all your help.”
She waves in the general direction of the cave entrance. “It’s time for you two to be leaving.”
And just like that, we’ve been dismissed. Which is fine with me. I’m more than eager to finally say goodb
ye to these caves and this strange, ancient vampire who seems to have more secrets than I ever want to know.
The trip back isn’t quite as exhilarating as the trip to the Bloodletter’s cave—partly because we’re both so tired and partly because Hudson keeps up a running commentary in my head that makes it hard to concentrate on anything Jaxon has to say. I know I’m going to have to figure out what to do about that sooner rather than later, but for now I just concentrate on keeping the peace.
Because wrangling what amounts to a shit ton of testosterone with fangs is not exactly easy.
I’m completely exhausted by the time we make it back to Katmere. Hudson seems to have fallen asleep again, thank God, and I know Jaxon wants me to come to his room for a while, but all I want is my bed and about twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. But since we have class tomorrow, I’ll settle for eight.
And Jaxon looks plenty fatigued himself, with dark circles under his eyes I’d only ever seen on him once before, when he first showed up in Uncle Finn’s office. I don’t know why I ever assumed Jaxon’s power was infinite. Of course it isn’t.
Still, he walks me to my room—of course he does—and once we get there, I go up on tiptoes and hug him as hard as I can.
The embrace startles him. Maybe because more often than not, lately, I’m backing away from him. Still, it takes only a second for him to wrap his arms around me and lift me off the ground in return.
As he does, he buries his face in my neck and just breathes me in. I recognize the move, because I’m doing the exact same thing to him. Even after hours of fading, he smells so good—all fresh water and oranges and Jaxon.
Then, just as suddenly, he’s several feet away, walking backward down the hallway while his eyes blaze with a dark fire that has my breath evaporating in my lungs. “Get some sleep,” he orders, “and I’ll meet you in the cafeteria tomorrow for breakfast.”
I nod and force my brain to work just long enough to string two words together. “What time?”