Calling the Blood Page 5

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have-"

  "My fault," she said, wiping at the moisture on her face. "I do know better than to ask about such things."

  "You have every right-"

  "I don't. Not really and it certainly is not polite to pry into what was an intensely personal experience."

  "You miss it," he said softly. "I knew you were cut off from most of your power, thought you'd deserved it, but I understand now."

  With a deep breath, Christopher let his senses open to the magic again. His breath caught and tears streamed down is face when he saw her.

  Chapter 11

  "Maybe we're thinking about this wrong," Civig said, watching Dan pace back and forth across the living room. "You're coming into your power and that's good. But human power is still limited on this side."

  "How limited?" Dan asked.

  "It's hardly there at all. I know you don't remember much about your time in Faerie but magic was everywhere. Kinda like living in the middle of the ocean. Compared to that, the magic here is a leaky faucet."

  "So you're saying, what, even if bigger powers come across to this world, they won't have much power?"

  "Well... they'll have more than the humans have, because most of them will be made out of it. But that's good! Because they won't have the magic to stay big and strong, they'll have to diminish to stay or be forced to go back home."

  "How much damage could they do before they were forced to go home?"

  Civig suddenly found the fabric pattern on the couch very interesting.

  "That's what I thought. Dammit, Civig, how am I supposed to fix this?"

  "You don't know that there's anything to fix!" Civig protested. "You're probably worrying for nothing. I haven't seen any evidence that something has crossed the borders and I've been looking."

  "Really?" Dan asked, turning to stare at Civig. "Why?"

  "We didn't know if the portal to your fridge would work. And then we didn't know if you'd remember, which you obviously didn't, but we needed to keep in touch with you. Trying to find places to cross was the best we could do until you let me come through the portal."

  "What do you mean I let you come through the portal?"

  Civig sighed. "You made the portal on our side, before you came back. When you went through it, you closed it behind you but you had to leave part of the tunnel."

  "I put a portal to Faerie in my refrigerator?" It made a twisted kind of sense to him.

  "You had to anchor it to some kind of door but you wanted to put it where someone wouldn't open it on accident."

  "Was I high when I had this idea?" Dan asked.

  "No, but you'd told us about what you used to do when you were high. It's what gave me the idea to leave you the note."

  "I thought you were leaving me a shopping list?" Dan said with a raised eyebrow.

  "Well, if all you'd done was stop buying milk and bought some of those cakes, that wouldn't have been the worst outcome."

  "Okay," Dan said, bringing his mind back to the problem at hand. "So I made a portal, that I closed, but that I let you through. How did I let you through?"

  "Well, with most gates, there's usually a ritual but you're a bard. I suspect just wanting something was enough to trigger magic you made."

  "That makes a horrible kind of sense. Where else have you been checking to see if you could get through?"

  "All the old gates, which remain sealed tight, and the known weak spots, rings, haunts, those kinds of things."

  "And?"

  "And most are either sealed or don't have enough power to let more than a will 'o wisp through. And those were as much of your world as ours, anyway, so they get some sort of pass."

  "That's oddly reassuring. So, it's not as bad as it could be. I've kinda stretched the fabric between the worlds a little bit but I haven't actually damaged anything."

  "Right, and I can get through because you let me through and there's just enough extra magic for me to survive but you don't have to worry about the bigger fae right now."

  "So now I just have to put everything back the way it was." Dan's heart began to race with panic.

  "How do you plan to do that?"

  "I have no idea," Dan said. "I don't even know where to start."

  "Maybe Samireal can help?" Civig offered hopefully. "She's the one who figured out how to talk to you? And how to send you back."

  "Okay, I'll go back to the circle tomorrow. I should be able to summon her again like that, right? It's not a once every few years kind of thing?"

  "No, I don't think so. But Dan, you don't have to go back to the circle. She sent you the pipe so she could talk to you."

  Dan hadn't looked at the pipe on his kitchen table since the first time he'd seen it. The shape of it still haunted him, reminded him of things and places he didn't want to remember.

  "I'd rather see her in person," he started but Civig cut him off.

  "Of course you would but how much talking will you get done if you're able to touch her?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Look, Dan, I might be small and weak for a Fae, but I have eyes. And ears."

  "You saw us?" Dan felt vaguely horrified.

  "Everybody saw you, Dan. Everybody. Quite frankly, Samireal allowing you to leave the court shocked most of them. They expected her to keep you until it was impossible to send you back."

  "I had to come home," Dan protested.

  "Yeah, and you wanted to, but that's never really mattered much when the Fae talk about keeping a human. Samireal adored you, it was obvious to everybody, and wept for days after you left. And then you stayed gone without a word."

  Dan sighed and ran his hand over his face. "I didn't know. I couldn't remember."

  "That's what she thought and why she sent the pipe. It took her years to figure out how to get it through the portal with the magic attached."

  Running a hand through his shaggy hair, he absently pulled it back into a short ponytail and reached for a hair tie. Not finding one near to hand, he let it go and it sprang back to a wild halo of curls.

  "Do you know how it works?" Dan asked.

  "Yes," Civig nodded. "In theory."

  Chapter 12

  Nate made Winifred take the first shower. They were both covered in blood but he wanted to see where hers was coming from. Healing cuts and holes from her fingers were the worst of it, and none of them looked less than several hours old. He watched her clawed fingers cut the soft skin of her belly as she tried to fasten her jeans and his heart skipped a beat. The cut healed almost before it started bleeding. He reached out to wipe the few drops of blood away and heat flowed up his arm and spread through his body.

  "Your hat's bleeding again," Winifred said softly, reaching out with a knuckle to wipe the blood away from his cheek. "Does it hurt?"

  He shook his head, his gaze still focused on her belly. The scratch was turning into a scar as he watched, the raised skin a slightly darker shade of pink.

  "What's happening to us, Winnie?"

  "I don't know?" she said quietly. The blood on her finger dried and flaked away. Looking closer at the blood on his skin, she realized that the rest of it had done the same. All that was left was a few dried flecks of blood on his skin.

  "I'm going to take a shower," he told her. "I can't take the damn hat off to wash my hair but the rest of me needs a good rinse and you told the others to come up and see us. I don't want to be in the shower for that."

  "No, that makes sense," Winifred said. "I don't think I'm going to manage pants today."

  Nate stroked her cheek and she looked up to meet his eyes. "You don't have to manage pants today. If you wait until I get out, I'll help with your bra so you don't have to worry about putting holes in it."

  Tears pricking at her eyes, Winifred nodded.

  "I'll be quick," he said, giving her a quick kiss. The tears ate at him, tore him up inside, because there was nothing he could do to fix them. He didn't know what was cha
nging them, didn't know how to fix her hands, couldn't fight anyone to make it better.

  The bathroom was warm and humid, the condensation on the mirror from Winifred's shower was just starting to clear. The humidity clung to him, soaking into his hat and making the blood run as though it were fresh.

  It didn't take long for the water to warm up enough for comfort and the spray of the hot water felt good on his back. He leaned back into the water, reaching up to stretch his shoulders, and felt a burning on the back of his head. The hot water had hit his cap was was rinsing the blood out and down the drain.

  The scream of pain had Winifred throwing open the shower curtains and reaching in to pull him out. Her claws punctured his bicep and blood ran freely down his arm, leaving burned flesh in its wake. The back of his had was sizzling, white smoke rising from it as the blood ran down his back.

  "Nate, Nate!" Winifred pulled her claws out of his arm, shocked at the reaction he was having and unsure what to do.

  He collapsed on the floor, deep, sobbing breaths the only things letting her know he was alive.

  She grabbed a towel and started patting him dry, working tenderly around the cap on the back of his head, and clenching her teeth at the black flakes that came away. The water had burned him, almost as badly as a fire.

  Gnawing on her lower lip, she let the last few days run through her head. Blood, it seemed, was the key. He could smell it, he and the girl with the scary teeth downstairs liked the taste of it, she had a knack for drawing it forth. Gritting her teeth, she held her arm over the back of his head, and scratched herself. A few drops of blood fell before scabs then scars formed over her forearm. The smoke cleared where those drops fell and she knew what she needed to do.

  With a deep breath, Winifred plunged her claws into her forearm, trying desperately not to hit something vital, and watched her blood flow over her claws and onto the back of Nate's head.

  His cap stopped smoking and his breathing became less labored. When he started struggling to sit up, she removed her claws and sat back, leaning against the open door and watching him with tired eyes.

  "Winnie?" Nate asked, his voice hoarse. "What did you do?"

  "Saved you," she said, pain threading through her voice. "At least, I think so. And I think I know what you are."

  "What do you mean, you think you know what I am?"

  "Blood, Nate," she said, closing her eyes in exhaustion. "You need blood. You're attracted to it, your cap soaks it up, washing it out seems like a bad idea."

  He rolled over and looked at her, sitting up still difficult. "Tell me what you did, Winnie."

  "I replaced some of the blood. Not enough, clearly, and you're probably going to need more soon. The legends say that if a red caps hat dries out, they die. I think it's the same if they wash out. I think I remember some aversion to running water, though that might have been territory markers as much as something that can harm them."

  Nate stared at her and she gave him a weak smile.

  A rapping sound came from their front door and a cheerful voice called out, "Knock, knock! It's Izzy and Kujo from downstairs! It smells really good in here, are you baking?"

  Chapter 13

  Christopher insisted on paying for the cab Listrial ordered to get him home from the restaurant. When she'd slipped into the seat beside him rather than opening a portal and disappearing wherever it was she disappeared to after they fought, he was startled for a moment then slipped an arm around her waist to pull her close.

  That she leaned her head against his shoulder felt like the most natural thing in the world.

  "I feel a little drunk," he murmured before pressing a kiss into the top of her head.

  "Mmm," she purred, sliding one hand behind him and another up his chest.

  "Is this normal?"

  "Yes," she said, the smile he couldn't see coming through in her voice.

  "I didn't even really drink tonight."

  "You drank other things," she reminded him. "And those other things tend to be stronger than wine."

  "I did, didn't I?" Christopher knew he sounded smug but he couldn't help it.

  "How do you feel?" She asked softly. "Besides drunk."

  "Amazing," he sighed. "And tired. I don't know that I've ever been this exhausted before in my life."

  "It gets easier with practice," she told him. "Like many things. As long as you take care to improve each time, it will soon come as naturally as breathing."

  "It will not," he snorted.

  She laughed. "As easily as making love, then. And just as worth the effort to do it right."

  His breathing hitched and his heart began to race. "Listrial-"

  "No," she stopped him. "No more questions for tonight. You are fed and tired and I would see you home before you collapse."

  He stopped talking for several long, deep breaths. "Alright. I'll let it go. You did say you wanted something from me with all of this and you haven't really gotten much except a slightly tipsy dinner companion."

  "Drunk on magic," she said softly. "That in itself was enough for tonight. You were also charming and wonderful, something I didn't dare hope for when I came to see you."

  "Was I not charming on our first date?" he asked, his eyebrow arched. He realized she couldn't see his face moments before she laughed.

  "You had an altogether different agenda for our first date than being a pleasant dinner companion," she told him. "Not that I was trying for much at the time, either. I think we've both come a very long way since then."

  "It's only been a couple days," he said.

  "Yes, and your manners have improved considerably in that time," she teased him gently.

  He sighed and kissed the top of her head. "There's so much I don't know. I don't even know where to begin."

  "I thought you'd made an excellent start already."

  "I've barely made a dent in the basic spells much less found a way to track the two people I told you about. And I got so lost in the magic today, I spent hours watching colors change and move. I've never done drugs but I imagine that's what it feels like. There's so much-"

  She reached up and put her fingers across his lips and he looked down at her. With a smile, she leaned up and kissed him gently. "You asked me," she murmured against his lips. "You asked for my help and I have decided to grant it."

  "What have I done to earn such a boon?"

  "No more questions tonight, remember?" She kissed him again, her lips a tease against his, her hand still against his chest.

  "I remember. Doesn't mean I don't have anymore."

  "There will be time for all your questions. Have patience, mortal, and all shall be revealed to you."

  "That's not cryptic at all," Christopher said with a smile.

  "What, I thought you'd like the wise immortal bit," she said, and dropped a kiss at the curve of his smile.

  "I'd like straight answers," he told her and kissed the tip of her nose. "Something I don't think you've ever given in the centuries my family has been keeping records."

  "Oh, but the cryptic ones were much more fun." She bumped his nose with hers and kissed him again. "And most of your ancestors were pests."

  "They were doing their duty."

  "As I was mine. It's much nicer when our duties align, isn't it."

  "And what-" he got out before she stopped his mouth with a kiss.

  "No questions," she whispered when they separated.

  "You are the most maddening woman I've ever met," he whispered back, his voice low.

  "But the most reasonable fairy queen," she countered. "It's just a matter of perspective."

  He pulled her hard against him and kissed her with an urgency he'd never felt before. Nothing was more important than touching her, tasting her, and she responded in kind.

  The driver cleared his throat when they pulled up to the gate on his driveway. Christopher leaned across Listrial, who continued to kiss any body part that came close enough, and fumbled with the window until he could lean out
and enter the code to unlock the gate. He spent the drive to the front door adjusting his clothes while Listrial checked her makeup in a mirror she pulled from her purse.

  She paid for the cab before he could reach for his wallet and let herself out of the car. Her expression was one of mischief for all that she waited patiently for him to let them into the house.

  "I think I'm going to refuse to wonder what he thought about us," Christopher said, refusing to look her in the eye.

  "If he thought of us at all, which I very much doubt, he saw a couple coming home from a date and proceeding as though the date had been very successful so far. And he'd be right."

  "And I'm not allowed any more questions so I can't ask what made it a successful date."

  "I could volunteer the information," she told him.

  "You could indeed," he agreed.

  They stood staring at each other for several long moments before she started to giggle. His answering chuckle sounded shortly after and he crossed the distance between them to lift her up in his arms and kiss her.

  "I have so many questions," he told her while she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  "I will answer them all," she answered, kissing her way across his cheek to his neck. With a nibble on his earlobe, she rubbed herself against him.

  "But not tonight," he said.

  "Not tonight," she agreed.

  When she kissed him again, he could feel the tingle of magic in her lips.

  Chapter 14

  Dan sat on his couch, the glass pipe in his hand, a sick feeling swirling through the pit of his stomach. This wasn't the only solution to his problem, he knew. It couldn't be. He'd already summoned Samireal once, twice if Civig was to be believed and there was no reason why he wasn't.

  This was just the most expedient answer.

  So why did he feel like he was breaking a promise.

  "I don't want to do this," he told the little gnome sitting next to him. "I haven't gotten high since I got home."

  "You didn't get high while you were in Fairy, either," Civig told him gently. "And this shouldn't get you high, either. It's just a way to create enough smoke close enough to your face that she can talk to you."