Mick started for him. I got myself between Ansel and Mick’s headlong rush, a frightening place to be. “Mick, no!”
“Let him come,” Ansel almost purred. “I’m hungry, and dragon blood would be delicious.”
“Mick,” I said in warning.
Mick stopped, but his eyes flashed fire. “Touch Janet again, Nightwalker, and I tear your head off.”
Ansel gave him a derisive look and turned away, only to have his attention arrested by Maya. Maya self-consciously tugged the hem of her skirt down her thighs.
“Ansel,” she said, not sounding pleased to see him.
“Maya.” Ansel gave her a smile full of teeth. “Want to raid the fridge with me?”
“No.” Maya looked away, a woman’s universal signal for “Get lost.”
“You go alone,” I said to Ansel. “Drink at least half that gallon jug of blood, and then come back in here and help us figure out how to break this hex.”
Ansel turned the smile on me. “Anything you say, mistress.”
Gods, he sounded like the mirror. Ansel finally went off to the kitchen. Fremont and Cassandra got out of his way as he went by, and no one followed him.
Coyote, still a coyote, growled at Mick. I planted myself in front of Coyote and raised my hand, palm out.
“Sit!” I commanded. “Stay!”
Coyote gave me a look that said “Fuck you” and then sauntered over to the sofa, climbed up next to Maya, and lay down.
I drew a long breath. “All right. It looks like the hex is working to bring out the worst in us—or at least release that part of us we try hardest to control. Ansel, bloodlust; me, my Beneath magic; Mick, his dragon instincts; Cassandra, it’s messing with her emotional control. Coyote—I don’t know what’s going on with Coyote.”
Coyote growled again. I was aware of Mick at my back, right against my back, pressed all the way along me. His arm stole around my waist, strong and possessive.
“It hasn’t affected me, Janet,” Fremont said. “I’m being strong for you. And I’m coming up with all kinds of ideas to enhance your plumbing.”
I had to love him. “I can honestly say, Fremont, that so far you are the only male here I haven’t wanted to strangle.”
Fremont winked at me. “I’ve got your back.”
“Janet.” Cassandra’s voice was weary. “I can’t keep letting this happen. I can try a summoning spell, bring the ununculous to me, and let him kill me. He won’t have orders to do anything to the rest of you.”
“Screw that,” I said. “You can’t know what this guy has in mind—he might decide that Mick, Coyote, Ansel, and I are a threat to him. Or he might kill us for the fun of it.”
Cassandra’s face crumpled as her tears came again. “I promise you that if I need to be sacrificed to save the rest of you, I’m willing. I’m the one who got you into this in the first place.”
“No one’s getting sacrificed.” Except maybe Coyote or Mick, if they continued to piss me off. “Besides, I have a few ideas up my sleeve—”
My words were cut off by a gut-wrenching moan from the kitchen, which wound quickly into a wail of anguish. I rushed past Cassandra and Fremont and into the kitchen, Mick hard on my heels.
Ansel was bent over the big stainless steel sink on the other side of the room, vomiting his guts out. The gallon jug of blood lay on its side on the floor, the remaining liquid spilling across the tiles. As we piled into the kitchen, Ansel looked at us over his shoulder, blood all over his mouth.
“It’s bad,” he snarled. “The blood is bad. Are you fucking trying to poison me?”
“No,” I said in surprise. “It was fresh yesterday, never out of the fridge.”
“It’s tainted, and it’s cow.”
“You always drink cow.”
Ansel dug his fingers into his mouth and scraped out more blood, which he flung into the sink. “Not tonight, I don’t. I need to feed, and I need to feed now. Either one of you volunteers, or I simply start biting.”
FIVE
MICK STEPPED IN FRONT OF ME, AND FOR once his overprotectiveness didn’t irritate me. “You touch anyone here, and I’ll kill you,” Mick said. His words were quiet, deep, and unshakable.
“Come on and have a go, then,” Ansel said. “I’d like some dragon blood.”
Fremont gaped. “Is he a vampire?”
Cassandra started to answer, then snatched paper towels from the counter and pressed them to her overflowing eyes. “Damn it, why can’t I stop crying?”
“Ansel is a Nightwalker,” I said crisply. “Much like a vampire, but a little different from ones in the movies. For one thing, he’s real.”
Ansel’s lip curled. “He’s real hungry.”
“I’m killing him,” Mick said. “Sorry, Janet, I know he’s your friend, but no one here should be a Nightwalker snack, and I’m certainly not letting him get his fangs into you.”
“It’s not his fault,” I countered. “I’m betting that the cow’s blood would have been perfectly fine if not for the curse.”
“It’s also not a demon’s fault it likes to devour human flesh,” Mick said. “That doesn’t mean I’d let one feast on you.”
“Ansel,” I said, trying to ignore Mick. “If I can give you fresh cow’s blood, will you drink it? It would take the edge off at least, right?”
Ansel gave me a grudging nod. “Possibly.” He wet his lips, then grimaced when his tongue touched a drying drop of the tainted blood. “I really need a human vein.”
“For me, Ansel.” I held his gaze with my own. Nightwalkers could mesmerize with their gazes, but none had ever been able to do that to me. “There’s another jug in the back of the refrigerator. Go get it, and drink it. If you don’t, and Mick tries to kill you, I won’t be able to stop him.”
Not without killing Mick in the process. If I had to choose between Mick and a Nightwalker ready to go on a rampage, sorry, Mick won.
Ansel sneered, fangs still long and nasty, but he headed for the fridge. I could tell he was trying to control himself, but he nearly ripped the handle off the refrigerator door when he opened it.
As soon as he stepped inside, I rushed the door. Mick caught on and got there first. He slammed the door just as Ansel realized what we were doing and turned around. Ansel hit the door from the inside, the boom rattling the kitchen windows. Mick fused the latch with a lance of dragon fire.
Ansel screeched, an unearthly, ear-shattering sound. He pounded on the door, and Mick stepped away from it, breathing hard.
“That should hold him,” Mick said. “For a while.”
“A while is all we need.” I wiped my brow. “The air in there is still cold enough to make him a little sluggish. By the time he breaks out, hopefully we’ll have this curse thing resolved.”
“Breaks out?” Fremont asked, his eyes wide. “What happens if he breaks out?”
Cassandra answered from behind her tear-dampened paper towels. “Then he’ll want more than a snack.”
Maya put one hand on her hip. “You do know that most of our food is in there.” Aside from the little pile of half-made sandwiches on the counter, dangerously close to spattered cow blood, she was right.
I gestured to the refrigerator, where Ansel was already denting the door from the inside. “Go on in, if you really want to. Pick something out for me, too. In the meantime, there’s something I need to do on the roof.”
“IS THIS SOME crazy Indian thing?” Maya asked me as she walked out onto the roof with me.
“No,” I answered. “Just some crazy desperation thing.”
Mick followed us, but Cassandra, Fremont, and Coyote remained below to make sure Ansel didn’t get out. Or at least Coyote and Fremont did. Cassandra had curled into a ball on a sofa, still weeping.
I was pleased to see, as we walked outside, that the emerging stars were being swallowed by thick clouds to the north and west. My skin prickled. A storm was coming, a big one, and my Stormwalker magic wanted to lick it all over.