Page 36 of Accidental Blood Lust
“My silly boys,” Auri says. “Losing a vampire in the underworld. That’s a new one even for me.”
“We’ll find him,” Roman grunts.
“See that you do. I don’t need it getting out that I run a loose ship. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yes, boss,” Roman mutters.
Auri vanishes as quickly as he appeared, the dog chasing his shadow down the hall.
“Back to work,” Rune says, continuing his walk.
“Auri isn’t mad?” I ask Roman quietly.
“No. He will be if we don’t get this sorted though. His reputation is important. It’s how he keeps his rank and why we exist as a group at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Long story short, he collects artifacts and we help him. The more he has, the more his power and reputation rise in the underworld and the more benefits and amenities he gets.”
“I see.” I have more questions but now is not the time. We’ve never talked much about what Roman and the guys do. I’m not sure it’s entirely ethical, and I try very hard to only use my magic for good. Not that I’m above a little trouble, but I’ve seen too many of my peers get into danger by dabbling on the dark side.
Rune opens the door to a room filled with shelves and tables. As we enter, the heady, earthy scent of his magic swirls around me, drawing mine to the surface. Rune’s skin lights up with intricate symbols, and I quickly realize he’s a legacy mage, born from multiple generations of magic users. I don’t know anything about my own bloodline except that my mentor explained to me that the simplicity of my markings indicates that I likely only inherited my mage lineage from my mother and that she was probably only first or second in the bloodline to have it. I preen a little knowing my illusions were still capable of disabling the powerful mage, even if only briefly.
He rubs his hands together. “Okay, boys, let’s find ourselves a vampire.”
TWELVE
ROMAN
We all crowd into the room behind Rune and Jareth. My nose twitches with the multitude of scents, herbs, and magic lingering heavily in the air. I sneeze and so does Mac, a little burst of flames sparking in the air in front of him.
“Damn, how can you breathe in here?” he asks before sneezing again.
“Quiet in the peanut gallery, please.” Rune grabs a wooden bowl off of one of the shelves and fills it with a mysterious blue liquid from one of his many vials.
Jareth watches with interest, his gaze occasionally going to the numerous jars and bundles of dried herbs lining the shelves, along with dozens of leather-bound notebooks that I’m sure are filled with spells and rituals Rune has recorded over the years. I’m also sure that all of the notebooks will curse anyone who touches them.
Rune sets the bowl on the table in the center of the room and beckons Jare over. The rest of us try to stay out of the way, lingering near the door and staying quiet. I know we have bigger problems to deal with first, but guilt is still simmering in my gut over my brief exchange with Jareth. Even if I haven’t confirmed anything, he knows. He can tell that something is going onbetween Loch and me, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to actually say the words out loud that Loch is my fated mate.
I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. First, we have to find him before some demon snatches him up and decides to drain him dry for a ritual or sell him to the highest bidder. He’s been a vampire for, what, a few weeks? Andtwicehe’s been closer to death than he ever was when he was mortal. Only Lochlan, I swear to all the gods.
Rune and Jareth join hands and start to chant under their breath in tandem. Rune’s tattoos glow brighter and brighter until it’s almost painful to look at him. Jareth’s tattoos are far less showy than the other mage’s, and they may not glow quite as brightly, but they’re utterly stunning, if you ask me. I can’t take my eyes off of him. Even knowing that Lochlan is fated for me doesn’t stop the fantasy I’ve held on to for years of stripping Jareth naked and tracing each of his tattoos with my tongue.
The bowl rattles on the table between them and they both stare into it. I can’t see what they’re looking at from over here, and even if I could, without magic, I’m not sure I’d see anything other than swirling blue goo.
Jareth gasps.
“Fuck a duck,” Rune mutters.
My pulse spikes and I rush forward, fur rippling across my arms and my wolf vibrating violently inside me with the need to protect our mate.
“What?” I growl. “What is it? Can you see him? Where is he?”
“He’s in the fae realm,” Rune says darkly.
An anguished howl tears from my throat before I can stop it, and my muscles start to strain and ripple. I couldn’t fight my wolf right now if I wanted to, and I don’t have it in me to try. I whine and growl as my body twists and contorts into its other shape. My wolf is a simple creature. He’s all about action and basic needs. Our mate is in danger, and we need to go gethim.Now. Since I can’t say any of that with my canine mouth and vocal cords, I growl again and turn to snap my teeth at the nearest person, which happens to be Cassius, who is trying to get them all moving.
He yanks his hand back and glares at me.
