Page 61 of Twilight Destiny
Kincaid shook his head. “Like I said, he’s a decent guy and he’s scared shitless. Can you help him?”
“What is he willing to give me in return?”
“I don’t know. What do you want? The blood of his firstborn child?”
She laughed, although it was more of a cackle. “Not this time. Let me think on it. Who is the woman you’ve been with?”
“What? Why?”
“I have never known you to spend much time with the same woman. This one must be something special.”
Kincaid shrugged. “She amuses me.”
The witch gave him a look that told him she knew Rosa was far more important than just a passing fancy.
“So, can you make a talisman for this guy or not?”
“Of course I can!” she snapped. “Tell him I want something of Luca’s in return. Something personal. His wand. A dagger. An item of clothing. Something with his scent on it.”
“That won’t be easy,” Kincaid remarked.
“Neither is magicking a talisman that offers protection against such a powerful witch. And since you’re here … ” She left the room, returning with a small, glass vial. “You still owe me for the band you wear.”
Muttering an oath, Kincaid bit into his wrist and held it over the vial until it was full. He didn’t know what the witch did with his blood, but giving her his blood from time to time had been the price of the protective gold band he wore.
“I’ll summon you when the talisman is ready,” she said, capping the vial. “Don’t bother coming after it if your friend doesn’t have what I require.”
Kincaid stood and headed for the door.
He felt the witch’s power follow him. He had often wondered which of them was stronger—the vampire or the black witch.
The sun was rising when he reached his lair. His last thought before the Dark Sleep carried him away was of Rosa.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rosa went to church Sunday morning. Sitting there, gazing at the beautiful stained glass windows, the flowers on the altar, she wondered how vampires would be judged in the Hereafter. Would they be damned? How many times had Jake broken the Sixth Commandment—Thou shalt not kill?He could perhaps be forgiven for the lives he had taken to save his own, but what about the others? He had been born a slave in violent times and turned against his will. Was he responsible for all those deaths? Or did the guilt fall on the vampire who had turned him?
She had read somewhere that vampires had no soul, but she didn’t believe that. How could you live and breathe, love and laugh, if you had no soul?
Had Micah killed anyone? Had Sofia? Ethan? Kadie? She knew Saintcrow had taken many lives. Did he ever wonder about meeting his Maker? Did Jake?
Forcing the dark thoughts from her mind, she focused on the closing hymn being sung by the choir, finding comfort in the words of enduring love and mercy and forgiveness.
She was supposed to go to her parents’ house for dinner, she thought, as she pulled out of the church parking lot, but she felt a sudden need to be with them now. So, why wait? she thought. And made a quick turn onto the freeway.
Twenty minutes later, she pulled up in the driveway. For a moment, she sat in the car, remembering all the good times she and her siblings had had in this house—the pajama parties, picnics in the backyard, sneaking downstairs on Christmas Eve to peek into the gaily wrapped packages under the tree, hiding Easter eggs, going trick-or-treating around the neighborhood, pillow fights with her brothers and sisters, sharing secrets with Sofia.
Sighing, Rosa stepped out of the car and entered the house.
Her mother’s face lit up when she strolled into the living room. “Rosa,mia figlia,” Lena exclaimed, wrapping her daughter in a bear hug. “We didn’t expect you until later.”
“I hope you don’t mind my coming early.”
“Silly girl. Of course not.Papà, look who’s here.”
“I see her,” Luciano said irritably. “I’m old, not blind.”
Rosa grinned as she hugged her father. Taking a step back, she took a good look at him. Micah was right. He didn’t look well at all. Hopefully, the doctor would find out what was wrong and fix it. If not, maybe a little vampire blood would help. It had done wonders for him in the past.
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