Industrial Magic Page 100


I shivered and hugged myself tighter. It wasn’t such a bad idea, I told myself. Beyond the obvious debilitating effect of blood-draining, a vampire’s initial bite, if done properly, knocked its victim unconscious, so the blood would flow freely. Cassandra’s bite would guarantee the artist would be out cold for a few hours. And she did need to eat. But still…

“I told you to stay where you were, Paige.”

I turned to see Cassandra at the corner of the cabin. There wasn’t so much as a blood smear on her lips, but her color was high and her eyes had lost their usual glitter, lids half closed with the lazy, sated look of someone who’s just had a very good meal…or very good sex.

“I—backup—wanted—” I managed.

“Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but you should have listened to me. Now come on. We need to check out that basement.”

Instead of marching off in the lead, she prodded me forward. When I turned the corner, I saw the artist slumped on the ground. I couldn’t suppress a shiver.

“He’ll be fine, Paige,” Cassandra said, her tone gentler than usual.

“I know.”

“You may not like it, but I could argue that some people would feel the same about the chicken you ate for dinner last night.”

“I know.”

A soft chuckle. “You aren’t going to argue the point? Quelle surprise.” She patted my back. “Let’s get to that secret room. I can’t wait to see what they’ve stashed down there.”

Before we went back into the cabin, I cast another perimeter spell. If anyone arrived before Lucas and Aaron, we needed enough advance warning to move the unconscious artist. It may have seemed wiser to move him immediately, but with a vampire bite, the safest way to hide what happened is not to hide it at all. Better for the artist to wake up on the ground by his chair, thinking he’d suffered a blackout.

With Cassandra following, I climbed down the ladder. Then I stood at the bottom and cast my light-ball around four walls, each with a floor-to-ceiling canning shelf. Every shelf was empty.

I slumped against the ladder. “It really is a cold cellar.”

“Don’t be so hasty,” Cassandra said, moving her hands along the far shelving unit. “Here, this one seems looser than the others. Grab the other end.”

I took hold of the shelf and, on the count of three, pulled. The shelf didn’t move. I walked to the nearest shelf and began examining it, the first wave of disappointment having given way to resolution. Maybe I had been mistaken about this room, but I wasn’t leaving until I was certain of that.

I poked and pried at the shelf but it didn’t budge. On to the next one.

“That one’s firmly fastened,” Cassandra said as she inspected the remaining shelf. “It doesn’t so muchas quiver.”

I stopped yanking on the shelf and instead ran my fingers along both sides, where the unit fastened to the wall. It was rammed so tight against the wall that I couldn’t even squeeze a fingernail into the gap. I crouched to examine the underside of the lower shelves.

On the second-to-bottom shelf, I found a nail sticking out near the corner. I prodded it. The nail slid into the wood and the shelf snapped hard against my hands.

“A catch,” Cassandra said. “Well done again.”

Before I could pull it open, my vision clouded.

“Not again,” I muttered. “My perimeter spell, with flawless timing.”

Cassandra checked her watch. “Aaron and Lucas.”

“Or so I hope. I’ll check. You go on in.”

I scooted up the ladder and out the cabin door. Lucas and Aaron were picking their way through the brambles. I hailed them with a shout.

“Hear you found Edward’s hidey-hole,” Aaron called as they drew closer. “Way to go.”

“We haven’t had a chance to look inside yet,” I said. “We ran into a few complications.”

When they caught up, Lucas’s hand brushed mine, then gave it a squeeze.

“Oooh, would that be one of those complications?” Aaron said, jerking his chin toward the fallen artist. “Or just a late-afternoon snack?”

“Both, I think,” I said.

“Is she in a better mood now?”

“Actually, now that I think about it, a much better mood.”

Aaron’s laugh rang out through the quiet meadow. “Oh, yeah, same old Cassandra. I thought that might be the problem. She gets pretty damned testy when she hasn’t eaten. That’s one big drawback to socializing with nonvamps. Nobody wants to hear you say, ‘I’m just popping out for a bite.’ If she ever gets bitchier than usual, that’s a good time to send her out on a late-night coffee run. Best way to cheer her up.” He grinned. “Well, there are other ways, but you don’t want to hear about those.”

We circled past the artist and headed into the cabin.

A Strange Place to Take a Bath

I LED LUCAS AND AARON TO THE SECRET ROOM. AS I looked around, my first thought was, “That makes sense, and that makes sense, and…what the hell is that for?”

The room was just slightly larger than the fake cold cellar, maybe eight feet square. Along one wall was a bookcase, filled with ancient reference books and experimentation journals. The shelves on the opposite wall held vials, beakers, jars, and other scientific equipment. All this was exactly what I expected to see in a quester’s laboratory. What I couldn’t understand, though, was the claw-footed bathtub that took up a quarter of the floor space.

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