Flesh and Blood Read online

  I grunted as if I were listening, but I’d already tuned him out in favor of watching the telly. On it loomed a familiar building, a pitch-black skyscraper in West Hollywood scheduled for demolition in a few days. A sphere of pain tightened around my heart, squeezing and choking the life out of me.

  “What is it?” Stefan turned around in his seat to look at the screen. “Do you know the place?”

  I licked my lips and forced myself to breathe. “Penthouse number one. Christian Lenore. Everything happened right there. Jesus, and they’re just going to tear the whole bloody thing down?”

  “Wouldn’t you want it torn down after everything that happened to you there?”

  My head started pounding. The news moved on to another topic but I stayed stuck, unable to form a coherent thought. I’d heard what Stefan said, and it made sense from a certain point of view. Evette had died there. I had betrayed Danny on that very rooftop. Blood, tears, and sweat had all been shed in that building to make me who I became, but there were also happy moments. Lazy summer afternoons spent on the rooftop getting high and laughing about stupid shit. Dancing like a coupla idiots whenever a particular song came on. And the laughter…so much laughter.

  That penthouse was more than just four walls and a roof. In so many ways, it was the home I always went back to in my mind. The one place in the world that felt familiar and safe when everywhere else was so strange. If I hadn’t seen the broadcast, hadn’t known they were going to tear it all down, maybe I could’ve gone on pretending it was still that place, but now that I knew…

  I pushed myself up from the table. “I need a smoke. Do ya mind settling the bill, mate?”

  Stefan knitted his eyebrows and nodded. “Of course. I’ll be right out.”

  To call the outside air cool would be generous, but it was cooler than inside, and the breeze did a lot of good, even if it did make the alley smell like a rat’s hemorrhoid. I sucked down the first cigarette desperately and was halfway through the second before I felt any relief. The nicotine wave hit me and the temperature seemed to drop, the smog-ridden air suddenly more tolerable.

  But there was another scent on the wind, one of death and decay. I took another drag on the ciggy before glancing over my shoulder. “Careful there, mate. You don’t want a taste of this. The last time one of you fuckwits tried to make a snack of me, she nearly died.”

  The vampire stepped out from behind the dumpster, his gaunt face the picture of the hunger driving him. “When I heard the wizard who slew the three sisters was in town, I had to come and see for myself. They said it was you. I said you’d never be stupid enough to overstay your welcome in my city again.”

  I let the smoke out through my nose and flicked the butt off into the street. “G’day to you too, Spyder. I see you’re still living up to your name. Doesn’t it ever get old, being such a bald cunt?”

  Spyder ventured to the edge of the streetlight, his long, gangly arms hanging limply at his sides. “Doesn’t it ever get old, running away from your problems? Any of them catch you yet?”

  “A few.” I tucked my hands into my pockets and turned my back to the road so I could face him. “I’m here on a job.”

  “Bullshit. Your heart rate jumped.”

  Fucking Spyder. Always could sniff out a lie from a mile away. “Fine, then. I’m here on personal business. One of the few people I give a shit about called me and asked for my help. Now she’s missing. Name’s Maggie O’Dale. You know her?”

  “Don’t go trying to squeeze information out of me, Josiah,” he snarled, showing his fangs. “I wouldn’t help you if you were the last sack of blood in the city. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t have my people blow your head clean off right now.”

  I skimmed the nearby rooftops, picking out six vampires I hadn’t seen before. A brief flash off the rooftop across the street told me where his sniper was sitting. He’d brought the whole crew. It was almost touching. I lit another ciggy and pocketed the lighter before answering, “Reseda. Valentine’s Day, 1996.”

  Spyder ground his teeth and raised a fist. Six hungry vampires retreated into the night. “Reseda buys you three days of grace. If you’re here Monday night, it’s open season.” He turned as if to walk off.

  “Hey, Spyder.”

  The vampire paused, looking back at me.

  “They’re tearing down the old Nevada Terrace building.”

  “That why you’re in town?” he asked. “Nostalgia for the good old days?”

  “Nah, mate. I told you. Personal business.”

  He grunted. “Well, good fucking riddance. That piece-of-shit building was an eyesore. Too bad they didn’t blow it with the rest of you assholes in it.”

  “Something wrong?” Stefan asked from behind me.

  I turned my back to Spyder as Stefan tried to lean around me for a look at who I was talking to, but Spyder was already gone. “Nothing’s wrong. Come on. I know where we’re spending the night.”

  Chapter Four

  Josiah

  The Hollywood Sunset had been a run-down motel in 1995, and the passage of twenty years hadn’t done it any favors. It was a single-floor family-owned shithole with twenty-three rooms that rented by the day, month, or hour. I grabbed the key for twenty from the tired teenager manning the desk and opened the room, my heart in my throat.

  All that time and it had barely changed. Same simple bed with an ugly floral-print duvet. Same framed circular mirror on the wall. They’d upgraded the television to a flat screen and added HBO to their channel lineup for a premium, but everything else was exactly as it had been when Christian brought me there in ’95. Even the smell was the same: cigarette ash and a faint trace of mold.

  Stefan frowned, stepping in and rolling his eyes over every inch of the place. “We can afford better, Josiah. This place is probably infested with bugs.” He lifted the paper-thin comforter and cringed. “Why’d you bring me here?”

  I wanted to tell him, but I barely knew. I set my bag on the table and popped the collar on my shirt to undo the buttons. “This could be an extended engagement. You want to go drop three hundred bucks a night for the Hilton, be my guest.”

  He turned, fluffing himself up like an irritated peacock. “Josiah, I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but I’m not going to sleep here. It doesn’t even look like they’ve changed the sheets. If this is some sort of self-flagellation—”

  “I said, go if you don’t like it, Stefan. I’m too fuckin’ tired to fight with you. Christ, don’t you think I’ve got enough on my fuckin’ mind?” I pushed past him and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me with a hollow thud.

  In the bathroom, I gripped the sides of the chipped porcelain sink and stared down into the mysterious streaks of discoloration, waiting. Gentle footsteps approached the door. Shadow shifted, darkening the space between the door and floor. He stood there for a moment before walking away. The door to the parking lot opened, closed. My heart sank into the bottom of my stomach.

  You’ve done it again, Josiah. You bastard. You scared away another one.

  “Good riddance.” I spun the handle for cold water. The faucet spat murky lukewarm water instead. I didn’t trust the shower enough to use it, but I dampened the hand towel and ran it over my face, neck, and chest, wiping away the day and avoiding my reflection.

  When I could no longer postpone the inevitable, I left the loo and went back into the empty room to rest my fingers atop the bedspread. It didn’t feel real, coming back here. What the fuck am I doing here? This should be the last place I wanted to be.

  Fifteen. It was an awkward age for anyone, but my situation was different, or so I told myself. Christian had found me on Skid Row and taken me in. In a strange turn of events, I’d found myself in bed with his wife the very first night I spent in his apartment. She was lovely, a traveler like me, with a deep appreciation of magic, music, and MDMA. I thought I was hot shit for bedding a woman five years my senior.

  Evette was her name. Coal
-black hair, dark, exotic eyes, and a laugh that would make the world stop spinning on its axis to appreciate it.

  When Christian discovered us, I thought he would be furious and kick me back to the curb. Instead, he offered me a place at his side, made me his prized pupil, and gave me unfettered access to Evette. For the first few weeks, at least.

  Then she was suddenly busy every time I tried to get her alone. Christian had ramped up her studies unexpectedly or saddled her with some extra errand. I suspected he was trying to keep us apart.

  It was a Thursday night when he had the driver bring us to the Hollywood Sunset. Rain streaked the windows of the back seat, blurring the neon Vacancy sign into streaks of hot pink and electric blue. Trepidation knotted in my gut like bad Chinese. “What are we doing here?”

  Christian smirked. “Magic. What else?”

  The driver opened the door for him, and he stepped out under the shelter of a black umbrella. He buttoned his long coat as if it were armor against the rain. I knew something was wrong when he took the umbrella from the driver. Christian was obscenely wealthy. He’d used his magic to con and cajole all manner of people to fund his lavish lifestyle. He didn’t carry his own umbrella.

  He exchanged a few short words with his driver and came to retrieve me. There was just enough room under the umbrella for both of us, and only if I stayed close enough to touch him.

  “Where are the others?” I asked. Up until that point, we’d only done group exercises. Three was the smallest group of wizards I had worked in. I scanned the parking lot for Spyder, Danny, Jones, or Coop, but none of them seemed to be there.

  “This is a private session.” He started walking.

  To stay out of the rain, I walked, too.

  He took me to Room Twenty without going to the office. Christian had a key on his ring, the same ring he kept the apartment key on. It struck me as strange, even at the moment, but I didn’t dare speak. Part of me was excited, butterflies in my stomach at the prospect of a private lesson with the most powerful wizard in Los Angeles. The rudimentary exercises we’d been doing as a group had barely pushed my skills beyond where I had begun.

  The other half of me wanted to throw up. With all his money, Christian should’ve been able to afford better accommodations. He could’ve rented a ballroom, or a whole gallery if he wanted. Why this shithole?

  In the room, he shook out the umbrella while I stood there awkwardly looking around. “Leave it to LA to rain on a Thursday,” he muttered. “And here everyone thinks Southern California is always sunny.”

  “Nowhere can be sunny all the time,” I said.

  “Well said.” Christian shrugged off his coat and hung it over the back of a dodgy-looking chair. He switched on the air conditioner, which blew musty air into the room.

  I shivered. It wasn’t nearly warm enough to warrant putting it on full blast.

  Christian sighed and gestured to me with slight irritation. “Look at you. I give you an umbrella, and you still manage to drench yourself. You’ve got mud up to your ankles. What’s the first rule of proper spellcasting, Josiah?”

  “Cleanliness,” I repeated. Always eager to please, I was.

  “Go and get yourself cleaned up. Shower’s through there. I’ll get us all set up.”

  I almost relaxed in the shower, despite how dirty the place was. It gave me a moment to myself, and perspective. How was I to learn and become a great wizard if I didn’t spend time alone with other great wizards? I told myself my fear was unfounded. What was the worst he could do to me?

  Cast me out, I answered. Send me back to Skid Row, where I belonged, or turn me over to the authorities. I was in the country on an expired visa. One word from him and I could be deported, although it wasn’t the deportation I feared. I didn’t want to be alone, not now that I had found where I should be.

  After a long shower, I slid aside the curtain to find my clothes gone. The only stitch of fabric remaining in the bathroom was a thin white towel. I fought with myself over what to do. Christian must’ve come in while I was showering and removed my clothes. Just knowing he’d been in there made me feel awkward about seeing him again, but I had no explanation for why he’d taken all my clothes. I had no choice but to wrap the towel around my waist and go out to confront him.

  I gripped the door handle, my heart pounding in my throat. Maybe this was magic that needed to be done in the nude. I’d read books that talked about it, although Christian had called most of them bullshit. What the hell am I afraid of? Being naked in front of Christian? What’s wrong with that? Come on, Josiah. Don’t be such a pussy.

  With a deep breath, I pushed the door open.

  The carpet around the bed was gone, pulled up to reveal a circle carved into the wood beneath. He’d moved the bed, too, positioning it so that there was no clear path from the bathroom to the door. No escape.

  I knew what he intended as soon as I saw him lying in bed, stroking himself. He stopped. We spoke. I don’t remember what it was about, what words he used to convince me. The words didn’t matter. I’d have done it anyway because I didn’t want to be on the street. I would’ve paid any price for the magic he could teach me. What was being used on the occasional Thursday night for his pleasure?

  He made it seem consensual. He made my body agree, but my heart was sick.

  As it turns out, I wasn’t the only boy. Danny, Spyder, Jones, Coop—he was taking them all to the Hollywood, each a different night of the week. The bastard never even touched his wife. That was just for show. Couldn’t have anyone finding out he was not only in the closet but also a pedophile.

  But as long as I gave him what he wanted, I got to keep Evette and Danny both.

  I pulled my hand away from the floral comforter as if it’d stung me. A ball of energy had wound itself up tight in my chest. It didn’t abate, not even as I shakily lit a cigarette and bent to pull up the carpet. It’d been replaced since ’95, but the old circle was still there, ready to be awoken with the right ingredients.

  The bed moved easily enough, but the only way to position it so that it didn’t fuck up the circle was either to block the bathroom or tip it on its side. The damn thing made a loud bang when I tipped it over, but that wasn’t unusual. There were people moaning and screaming in all the other rooms.

  Before proceeding, I went to retrieve Milly from my bag. The old girl must’ve been itching to get out because she sprang out of the container to cling to my shirt. If spiders could purr like cats, she might’ve. Then again, Milly would never sink to a cat’s level.

  “Evening, love.” I gave her a gentle pat.

  Why are we here, Josiah?

  “Need the circle.”

  But you could’ve made a circle anywhere.

  “Not just any circle can hold Eosyn. Has to be a black circle, first off, and I haven’t got the time to make one of those, or the wherewithal for a goat sacrifice.”

  Are you certain you need Eosyn? You know the payment she’ll demand.

  “Maggie’s missing.” I flicked open my pocketknife and drew it over my thumb. “Remiel is out there. He could have her already, for all I know. I can’t afford for her to be lost. I’ve got leads, but I can’t put shite together based on what I’ve got. I need more information, a name. A face. A place. Anything.”

  Desperation isn’t a justification. Be careful.

  “Why d’ya think I got you out? If she takes more than she’s owed, do us a favor and bite her arse.” I popped open the vent near the ceiling and let her crawl into it. “Until then, stay hidden.”

  Eyes closed, I worked through a basic exercise, moving power around the circle, flexing and withdrawing from all corners to make sure it was still solid after all this time. It was, so I proceeded with the summoning.

  Dark energy swirled in the circle, a miasma of painful electricity on the back of a sensual kiss of power. Tantalizing, it rose, pulling me toward the center like fingers in smoke. I fought, digging in my heels until sweat dampened my chest and back. To b
e taken in now would be surrendering control over the magic that was rightfully mine. Silken threads wrapped delicately around my throat. I pulled them away, their magic no more substantial than a spiderweb, yet as powerful as a tiger’s roar. The ground shook, and the lights flickered.

  “Come on, you kinky bitch. Show your fucking face!” I gritted my teeth and forced more energy into the spell. It struck the edges of the circle, flowing like water around me. I felt the barrier weaken. Any more and the circle would shatter.

  Feminine, velvety laughter floated through the air. A single blue spark struck the floor, igniting as if it were fire and burning Eosyn into existence.

  To call Eosyn beautiful would be doing her a disservice. The word would melt away and bow to the raw carnal beauty of the demon Eosyn. Poets, painters, and sculptors throughout the ages had attempted to capture even a shred of her beauty, and all of them had failed. Hers wasn’t a beauty of the flesh, nor was it a beauty of the heart or soul. Eosyn’s soul was as black and hateful as they came.

  Eosyn appeared before me, her skin a perfect deep bronze, black eyes peering down her shapely nose as she strode out of nothingness, arms crossed. “Josiah Quinn. What a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Before I say anything more, I need your binding word that you’ll say nothing of this to anyone.”

  She tipped her chin up and laughed again. My flesh prickled at the sound. “What’s the matter? Don’t want your lover finding out? He could’ve stayed, you know. I don’t mind an audience.”

  “Eosyn, your word,” I growled. I couldn’t proceed without admitting who Maggie was to me, and I couldn’t have her running off to tell everyone I had a daughter. It’d make Maggie a target.