Page 5 of The Witches Catalogue of Wanderlust Essentials (Natural Magic #2)
Chapter 2
Chapter Two: Zani the Vampire Slayer
Z anfira hummed to herself as she kicked the castle door open.
Zani banani, pudding, and pie, kissed a vamp and made him die.
Barely two hours had passed since she’d met Cosimo in the alley. Her breath poured steam in the air. It was cold out. Far colder than when she’d left the boarding house. But the cold didn’t seem to touch her. Her blood ran hot, and she was invigorated by her success. Victory coursed through her unharmed veins like a potent drug. She felt strong and incredibly alive as she strode away from the scene, twelve pounds lighter than when she’d arrived. She still had the one spare stake strapped to her thigh.
It had been easy. Almost too easy.
“Let me tell you, these Carpathian leeches are notoriously slow moving and yet they’re so cocky, they don’t even bother to ward their colonies,” Zani had cockily said to her friend Maida when describing the mission. “I swear they all have a touch of age-related dementia, along with serious iron deficiencies.”
But more realistically speaking, she’d known there were a thousand things that could go wrong, starting with the greedy Madame. She might have been canny enough to bite one of the coins, checking its veracity.
But the Madame had marked her for a fool and, ?Zani suspected, was expecting richer rewards from her wealthier patrons. Surely the gentlemen paid her well for her help in finding them suitable dining “companions.”
Plus, there was always the chance that the Madame was not their only resource for sourcing their prey. Cosimo had urged her not to dally for good reasons. This was not a party one should arrive fashionably late for. Not only was it poor manners, which wouldn’t sit well with such old-fashioned types, but faux pas aside, the gentleman might have invited someone else at the last minute. If she had arrived late, the party might have started without her. She had needed to be the center of their attention. She didn’t want to vie with pretty appetizers.
There had been four of them. Far older than she expected, and far less handsome than advertised. Their nest reeked of dust, death, and mothballs. Everything beyond the grand reception area was filthy and decayed, shrouded in cobwebs and neglect.
Why bother with decorating the place when so few guests made it past the mesmerizing entry?
Who wouldn’t be dazzled by a chandelier that was the size of a compact car? The wallpaper was an optical illusion, a series of crescent moon shapes that inexplicably alternated between concave and convex the longer you stared at them. She’d kept her eyes averted. Had she not plugged her ears, she might have heard the music being played on the grand piano. Something classical, she suspected. A lullaby? Off to the side was a cloakroom full of far, far too many coats.
She shuddered at the memory, hoping it wouldn’t be one to haunt her dreams. Zani was not usually squeamish, but it would be as hard to forget the coats as it would be to forget the piles of bones that littered the ballroom floor.
It would all be dust by morning. When the sun shone on the sills and the wind blew through the doors and windows she’d left open, daylight would reclaim what was stolen by darkness. This was the best she could do for them.
Zani crept stealthily past the shuttered homes full of somnolent villagers. Part of her hated them for sleeping so soundly with such monsters in their midst. But they were Ordinary folk and accustomed to turning a blind eye. Particularly when their monsters served a purpose. Parasites on parasites. Everyone in this town had a role to play.
“Ordinary issues are none of your business!” Zani’s great-aunt Minodaura liked to say. Rather hypocritical for a witch who lived in and ran a lighthouse that saved Ordinary ships daily, but Zani hated to quibble with the old grand dame of her family. Minodaura would be furious if she knew the true extent of Zani’s extracurricular activities. Conspiring with vampires? The horror!
“You want to hunt artifacts, Zani?” Minodaura had said. “You want to chase down cursed objects? Fine. I can’t stop you. But I will not approve of your disgraceful harum-scarum ways! Your rightful and responsible place is here in the lighthouse with your family, working the wards that have kept us safe for generations.”
Like her rebellious parents, who perished during an archaeological mission in South America, Zani had never been great at following orders. And she’d never seen eye to eye with her outspoken, overprotective aunt who was the matriarch of the family. Growing up in a lighthouse full of opinionated witches, she’d rarely had the time or space to hear herself think. It was why she’d done the unthinkable: attended an Ordinary university before pursuing an advanced degree in Arcane Artifacts.
Zani had left the light on in her room at the boarding house. As she passed the building again on the way to the gate, she considered ducking back in to retrieve her boots. Nobody was awake to see her, save the spirits. But she didn’t dare. She knew better than to believe the adage that dead men tell no tales. In her experience, there was no greater gossip than ghosts. What other amusements did they have besides bavardage, messing with mirrors, and the occasional relocation of household items?
Still, she wanted to keep the boots. Carefully, she withdrew her wand and traced a shape in the air. Moments later, the boots appeared in the window, toes pressed to the glass like the noses of kittens. With a subtle flick of Zani’s wand, the window slid open. She held out her arms and nodded encouragingly. Almost playfully, the boots leapt down into her arms. Zani closed the window with her wand before walking away. She didn’t want the manager to wake up before dawn with a chill.
Knotting the laces together, she draped the boots around her shoulders and turned toward the gate, stepping up her pace. The night was still young. She knew Cosimo would already wait for her. She relished the thought of surprising him with her speed and efficiency.
She could feel the bloodstone amulet in her pocket, warm and heavy. It thumped against her hipbone.
Cosimo would be pleased, she knew. He might even be impressed. She pulled out her compact and checked to be sure there were no remnants of the potion. Just in case he tried to kiss her? The thought of this made her even warmer, and more aware of her desire. She wanted to impress Cosimo. She wanted him to kiss her.
If and when he did, she didn’t want him to be stupefied by a simple potion she’d made to confuse his lesser peers.
“Thank goodness you’re here!” Cosimo exclaimed as she reached the gate. “Do you have it?”
“I do.” Zani nodded. Where was the praise? “Hope you didn’t have to wait too long.” She raised her eyebrows and pretended to check her watch.
“I will confess that I was worrying when you weren’t back in an hour. Those three are notoriously slow and stupid.”
“There were four of them!” Zani’s voice cracked as she defended herself.
“Pardon me. I forgot about the fourth. Is he even mobile?” Cosimo wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“One of them had a cane, but I assure you, they were all perfectly mobile.” Zani scowled. She rested her hands on the boots hanging by her armpits. “And now they are all dust.”
“Well then, mission accomplished. We should get out of here quickly before anyone awakens.”
Zani nodded, then lowered her head and pressed her lips together. Cosimo was the opposite of impressed. Why wasn’t he elated that she’d retrieved the stone that he claimed had caused him so much trouble? Instead, he seemed even more on edge than usual. She reached into her pocket.
“Don’t,” Cosimo whispered. “I don’t need to see it. I can feel it.” He cupped a hand around her hip bone, pulling her in closer.
Zani held her breath. Cosimo leaned in. His lips were just a fraction of an inch from hers. She could see herself reflected in his odd silver and gold-toned eyes.
He really wasn’t like other vampires.
When he brushed a chaste kiss across her forehead, she felt the sharp pinch of her own disappointment.
“It’s just my stupid ego,” she thought. “I am not mesmerized by him.”
But she knew her Auntie Minodaura would not agree.