Scarlet Heat Read online

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said when she opened the door. “What do you want this time of night?” Before I could speak she held up a hand to stop me. “Wait, you’re a vampire. Of course you’re up at night.” She yawned. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

  “Can I come in?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “If you make it quick. This is supposed to be my early night.” She opened the door wider and motioned at me.

  “I’m sorry to bother you—I can see you’re ready for bed,” I said, following her into the living room and sitting on the faded floral couch where Victor and I had sat together just a few weeks ago. Remembering that made a lump form in my throat and I had to swallow hard to keep from crying.

  “That’s okay.” She waved a hand at me. “I never go to bed much before one anyway. No big deal.”

  “You look, uh, different tonight,” I said. “I mean, than the last two times I’ve seen you.”

  “Oh, the wicked witch look?” She laughed. “Yeah, that’s mostly just for clients. They come to visit a witch, they want me to look like someone who could cook up the perfect revenge spell for their nosey neighbor or hex their pissy cubical mate at work.”

  “Or summon demons from the other side,” I offered, trying to smile.

  Gwendolyn shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I mean there are lines no witch should cross. If she wants to continue doing white magic, that is…”

  “So the whole ‘I’m an evil, scary witch’ routine is all an act?” I asked, frowning.

  “Yup. Even the piercing.” She pulled the tiny silver ring from her lush bottom lip and held it out in her palm. “See? Clip-on. But I know you didn’t come here to talk about my fabulous witchy fashion sense—you want to know who planted that trap on your man’s land, don’t you?”

  It had been so long since I even thought about the trap that it caught me off guard.

  “Uh, no,” I said. “That’s not actually why I’m here at all.”

  “Good,” Gwendolyn said. “Because I don’t know yet. Although I am very close to finding out. My discovery spell should be finished in a matter of hours.”

  “Speaking of the trap though,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I had an…experience tonight with something like it. A…a whip that had the same kind of feel about it.”

  She frowned. “You mean spelled? Cursed?”

  “Exactly.” I nodded. “There was that same feeling of…of evil intent. Malevolence almost. Do you think the same person who bought the trap also got the whip made? Because if so, I think I know who did it.”

  Gwendolyn nodded. “Sure. But they must have plenty of money to spend and a good reason to want to get you if they can afford to commission two cursed items in one month. Magic that dark doesn’t come cheap.”

  “She’s got plenty of money, all right,” I said, thinking of LeeAnn and her slutty designer clothes and cute little car. “And plenty of reason to hate me too.”

  “So you know who it is?” she demanded. “Then what am I running all these spells for?”

  “I only put it all together tonight,” I said, looking down at my hands. “She—the girl who did it—is probably really happy right now. She got what she wanted—for Victor and me to be apart.”

  “Oh, sweetie…” Gwendolyn, who had been in the worn armchair across from me, came to sit on the couch beside me. “What happened?” she asked, patting my arm. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.” I took a deep breath. “And I don’t want to cry about it anymore, either. I just want…I need to make it right.”

  “Make it right? How? You want me to work a reconciliation spell or something? Because I have to tell you, my Grams is way better at that kind of thing than I am and she’s out of town at a conference right now.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I want you to break it—break the blood-bond between Victor and me.”

  “What?” Gwendolyn sat back on the couch and frowned at me. “Breaking a blood-bond is serious business—dark magic. I don’t do that.”

  “Yes, you do,” I said levelly. “You made the stake for Corbin and you’re disposing of the trap for Victor. You’ll do it—for a price.”

  She put a hand on her hip, looking pissed. “So you think I’m for sale? Just like that?”

  “I think I have something you want.” I held out a wrist to her. “Blood. You asked for it last time but Victor wouldn’t let me give it. This time I’m here by myself. Please, Gwendolyn, I need to get this done. Victor and I…” I started to choke and forced myself to go on. “We…we can’t be together anymore.”

  “Well, crap…” She sighed. “Look, why don’t I pour us both a glass of wine and we’ll talk about it? You can drink a little bit—right?”

  “Yes, but I’m not really thirsty right now,” I said. Suddenly a craving hit me. “This may sound weird but do you have any pickles? Dill ones?”

  “What?” She gave me an incredulous look. “Uh, did you really just ask me for dill pickles?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded apologetically. “I’m sorry, I know that’s weird. I’ve been having these…cravings tonight.”

  “Okay, well actually, we do have some.” She motioned for me. “Come on into the kitchen.”

  I followed her through the house into a surprisingly large kitchen with yellow and white checkered curtains hanging in the windows. A green ceramic frog with a dish scrubber in his mouth sat on the side of the sink and a cheery red tea kettle was on the spotless white stove. All together it looked like a completely normal kitchen—there was nothing witchy about it at all except for a huge black pot hanging from the rack over the oven. Gwendolyn saw me eyeing it and grinned.

  “That’s Grams’ gumbo pot. She always says you can’t make good authentic roux in anything but cast iron.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I thought—”

  “That we were hunched over the cauldron cackling and brewing spells?” She arched an eyebrow at me.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I guess there’s a lot about witches I don’t know.”

  “That’s okay—apparently there’s a lot about vamps I don’t know,” she said, opening a spotless white refrigerator. She brought out a mason jar and held it up. “For instance, I didn’t know you guys could eat pickles.”

  “I didn’t either, until tonight,” I said, taking the jar from her. I unscrewed the metal ring and pried up the lid. The sharp scent of vinegar and dill assaulted my nostrils, making my mouth water. After all the fast food I’d had that night, I shouldn’t be hungry again for hours. But the smell of those pickles made my stomach growl like I hadn’t eaten in years. “These smell delicious,” I said.

  “They’re homemade. Grams still does her own canning,” Gwendolyn said, handing me a fork. “Dig in.”

  I speared a slice and stuck it in my mouth.

  “Mmmm…”

  “Glad you’re enjoying them,” Gwendolyn said dryly. “So…does your sudden new appetite have anything to do with why you want to leave your man?”

  I nearly choked on a pickle.

  “No,” I said, putting the jar down by the side of the sink. “It’s…a long story. But we need to get away from each other. I need to…need to set him free.”

  “Set him free?” She frowned. “Free of what?”

  “Of me.” I took a deep breath, feeling like I was going to cry. “I did something tonight…something I can never take back. Please don’t make me talk about it. I just…I need to break the bond. Can you help me or not?”

  “Well…” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at her feet. I noticed that she was wearing white Hello Kitty slippers with pink bows that matched her pajamas.

  “Please,” I said again. “I’ll give you as much of my blood as you want.”

  “I don’t need all that much but I do need some and I haven’t had any luck getting young vampire blood anywhere else.” She sighed. “All right, I’ll do it—I’ll try to anyway. But it won’t be