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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Stop squirming,” the healer muttered.

“I’m not squirming,” Vlad grumbled. He was lying face down on an examination table in the New York coven’s infirmary, butt exposed to the elements and dignity in tatters. “I’m expressing my discomfort in a manly way.”

“You’re squirming,” Delphine drawled from where she leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

Though her expression remained solemn, Vlad could tell she was grinning inside.

He scowled. “I got shot in the ass. I think I’m entitled to some squirming.”

Tarang made a worried sound next to the table.

The healer, a middle-aged witch with steel-gray hair and zero patience for his complaints, prodded the wound with glowing green fingers. “The bullet went clean through. You’re lucky the guy didn’t aim any lower or it would have—you know.”

“Emasculated him?” Cortes contributed, struggling to keep a straight face.

Popo snickered on his shoulder.

“I was gonna say blow one of his balls clean off, but that works too,” the witch grunted. Her familiar, a stoat, squealed softly on her shoulder.

Vlad cut his eyes to Cortes. “How about you step outside? I’m barely hanging on to the shreds of my modesty as it is.”

“Heck no,” Cortes chuckled. “I need to immortalize this moment for Mae and Nikolai.”

To Vlad’s relief, the familiar twinge that should have clenched his heart failed to manifest at the mention of the Witch Queen’s name.

“If you dare take a picture, I’ll tell Anya what happened in that strip club we went to for that Christmas party with the Black Devils ,” he growled at Cortes.

The Colombian’s expression fell. “Dude, that’s low even for you.”

“What’d you do?” Delphine asked.

Cortes sighed. “Something no man should ever do to a dancing pole. In my defense, I was exceptionally drunk that night.”

“You were fabulous, my Enrique,” Popo gushed. “No one could look as good as you sliding and grinding?—”

“Shut up, Bird Brain,” Cortes snapped.

“How much longer?” Vlad asked the healer between gritted teeth.

“There, all done,” the witch said brightly. “I’d suggest you avoid sitting for the next few hours.”

“Great,” Vlad said sourly, yanking his trousers up. “I’ll just hover.”

“We have a doughnut ring somewhere,” the witch said helpfully. “Would you like me to fetch?—?”

“No!”

“Is he always this cranky?” the witch asked Delphine and Cortes.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of the super soldier’s mouth. “He has his moments.”

Vlad knew from the way her gaze skimmed his body exactly what she was thinking about. Heat coiled through his gut despite himself.

The infirmary door opened. Bryony swept in, her familiar Penley at her heels. The High Priestess stopped and watched as Vlad carefully slid off the couch.

She raised an eyebrow. “You really got shot in the ass?”

“No comment.” The incubus adjusted his outfit with as much dignity as he could muster. “Have you heard from Mae? We’ve been trying to ring her.”

Bryony’s face clouded over. “You can’t reach her either?”

Vlad’s heart sank at her words. He could tell she wasn’t lying.

If anything, the High Priestess looked worried.

“That’s not like her.” Cortes furrowed his brow. “Did something happen in Europe?”

“Not that we know of.” Bryony hesitated. “Although, Abraham does have a theory.”

Abraham Whitworth, Bryony’s aide, elaborated on his speculation in the High Priestess’s office minutes later.

“They’re probably shacked up somewhere,” the sorcerer said with an utter lack of concern as he served them tea.

“Ah.” Cortes made a face.

Vlad scowled.

Abraham shrugged at his expression. “They’re a young couple in love. They’re visiting another country. It’s bound to happen.” He waved a hand. “One minute you’re admiring St. Peter’s Basilica, the next minute you’re getting hot and heavy in the gardens of the Colosseum.”

Bryony pursed her lips. “Mae did say Nikolai’s stamina was something else.”

Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something rude under his breath.

“By the way, who’s your lady friend?” Abraham jerked his head at Delphine where she stood to attention next to the door.

“She’s my new bodyguard,” the incubus said reluctantly.

“What happened to Ilya and Milo?” Bryony asked.

Vlad sighed. “It’s a long story.” He made the introductions.

Bryony brightened. “You’re a friend of Serena’s?”

“Yes, I am,” Delphine replied carefully.

“Don’t just stand there.” The High Priestess waved her over. “Come, sit with us.”

The super soldier hesitated before crossing the room and taking the seat that would give her first sight of anyone approaching the office, a move no one commented on. A crunching sound had her looking around.

Tarang was munching happily on the platter of steak the coven chef had sent up for him.

“The tiger looks like he’s made himself right at home,” Delphine remarked.

Abraham grimaced. “At least Tarang has manners. If Brimstone and Hellreaver were here, I’d been scraping flecks of meat off the bookshelves for days.”

Tarang huffed smugly.

“Why are you looking for Mae?” Bryony asked Vlad curiously. “It sounds like it’s something serious.”

Vlad and Cortes exchanged a guarded glance before telling the witch and her aide about the incident at the Oro Divino and what Mrs. Son-Ha had revealed to them in Glendale that afternoon.

“Wait.” Bryony stared. “You’re under a voodoo curse ?!”

“And you have less than forty-eight hours to break it?” Abraham said, pale-faced.

“Yeah.” Vlad ran a hand tiredly through his hair, the events of the day finally catching up to him. “Although I would rather not rely on Mae, I was hoping she might be able to undo it.”

A strained hush descended on the room.

Bryony drummed her fingers on her arm rest, her expression focused. “Since we can’t get in touch with her, we’ll have to find another solution.”

Vlad blinked. “Are you sure you want to get involved in this?”

Bryony scowled. “Of course we do. You are one of our people.”

Warmth filled Vlad’s chest at the witch’s words. He’d always assumed the only people he could count on were Yuliy and the Black Devils . Now he had Mae, Nikolai, Cortes, and a whole other bunch of witches and sorcerers he could rely upon.

And a super soldier or two. Vlad’s gaze flicked to Delphine.

“Abraham, see if any of our contacts can shed some light on that curse,” Bryony said briskly. She studied Vlad with a frown. “In the meantime, I might know a thing or two that can help you track down the sorcerer who did this to you.”

Vlad’s pulse accelerated. Delphine straightened in her seat.

“The kind of voodoo magic Mrs. Son-Ha described requires three things: the sorcerer’s blood, dolls of the targets of the curse, and proximity.”

Delphine narrowed her eyes. “Proximity?”

Bryony dipped her head. “For this particular curse to work, the dolls have to be near the victim. And the caster needs to be close by when he invokes the curse.”

“How close?” Delphine asked in a deadly voice.

Bryony’s mouth flattened to a thin line. “From the accounts I recall, within thirty to forty feet.”

Vlad clenched his jaw. He looked at Cortes. “So he was either in the room with us or?—”

“Somewhere in the building,” Cortes finished with a dark look. “There’s something we haven’t talked about. The Kingston connections Wei Chen mentioned. Voodoo is popular in that part of the world.”

Vlad’s fists tightened on his lap. He’s right.

“We should go take a look at the restaurant,” Delphine told Vlad curtly. “And I’ll need a copy of that leaked video footage and any other security recordings you have of the building in the past month. They’ve been planning this for some time.”