Page 2 of Magic Pussy

They tolerated each other, at best.

Nola was a strange city. It had believed in the monsters under the bed well before they’d come out of the darkness and announced their existence. They’d celebrated them.

In the old days, there had been an understanding between all paranormals; they might have their differences, but when it came down to hiding from mortals, they had each other's backs. Vampires had helped witches, witches had returned the favor.

After the age of blood, they’d ceased to need each other. Vampires had declared their presence loud and clear to the entire world. And they’d taken power, just like that. Humans had freaked at the time, but not nearly as much as the witches had.

In the past, the witches had believed that they knew vampires. Their strengths, their limitations, their powers. But when it had come down to it, the vampires had revealed that all they'd believed about them was wrong.

They were stronger than they’d previously let on, and harder to kill.

The witches had taken the side of the innocents, of the regular mortals, as was their way, and across the world, the vampires had defeated them.

In Nola, they overthrew the seventy-three clans with barely any effort. Rain hadn’t seen the age of blood, but she’d been told that her uncle, head of the clans at the time, had been killed by Charles. He’d snapped his neck like a twig for opposing him. Charles had been given Nola by the king of vampires. He’d ruled it with an iron fist.

By the time Rain was born, the vampires had grown bored of having so much admin or something, because they’d given the reins of the world back to regular humans, after making it clear that any open war against supernatural creatures would result in reprisals. The vampires said they’d return and wipe regulars out this time. After all, they could survive on any mortal blood, shifters and witches included. They didn’t need regulars.

The warning had been efficient; decades passed without conflicts. Charles, like other vampire lords, had said that all was back to normal. He’d shaken hands with the new head of the clan, Rain’s mother.

Most young witches never saw him, only heard of him in whispered tales of untold horrors. Rain had been the exception, because she’d had a tendency to skip past witch territory and hang out in the wrong places from the moment she’d found someone to make her a decent fake ID.

She remembered the first time she’d met Charles at one of his clubs. Probably during her third or fourth night out. She’d tried not to appear nervous as she passed her ID to the security guy, but her eyes had darted left and right. And there he had been, coming out of the loud, crowded club, a beautiful, model-worthy woman under each arm. She remembered his eyes, which shone a little too much in the darkness. His slow movements. The way he strode, like a predator.

He'd freaked her out; she'd known right away that he was someone, something else. Another woman might have developed a crush. Instead, Rain saw a rival. An enemy.

He’d looked at her for a moment that had seemed to stretch indefinitely, and then he’d smiled.

“Let her pass,” he’d told his bouncer. “This little lady is welcome at any of my clubs.”

She’d been, what, seventeen? And he must have known it. Why he’d extended his welcome that way, she couldn’t say. He probably just helped out sups to collect favors. They’d seen each other in passing every other week, but that was the extent of their relationship. She wouldn’t call it friendship.

There was no reason why he should have been in her kitchen, naked.

“Acquaintance,” he amended with a shrug, like the words were interchangeable in his opinion.

“You haven’t answered my question. Why are you here? How did you even find me?”

She was cloaked and shielded. Not very well: she had no enemy to worry about, and she wanted to remain findable by some of her actual friends, but still, someone with no belongings from her, and no conception of the nature of her magic, shouldn't have been able to locate her.

“Easy, little witch. I come in peace. I bear a message that could not have been sent by any other means.”

One hand on her hip, and glaring, Rain wondered if Iris was rubbing off on her.

“Sara needed me to talk to you.”

Oh. Her demeanor immediately changed. “Is she okay? Has anything happened to her?”

Sara had her phone number, but when she called, there was always someone within earshot, so she stayed on safe topics. Messaging her wasn’t safe: the clan was paying for her phone and monitored what she did. Rain knew the drill. If she wanted a real chat with her little sister, they had to meet in person.

“Not yet.” Charles tilted his head. “I’m glad to see you care.”

She was back to glaring now. “Of course I fucking care. She’s my sister.”

He had a point, though. If he’d talked about Michelle, her other sister, she would have been far less concerned.

“What do you mean, not yet?”

“I mean,” Charles said slowly, “it’s not solstice yet.”

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