Page 22

I zabela looked out the front window, her brow furrowing when she saw Saintcrow and Kincaid standing on the porch, along with a tall, slender woman with flawless skin and long blonde hair. Another vampire, she mused. But not one she would invite into her house.

She moved to the front door when Kincaid knocked again and opened it a mere crack.

“What do you want?”

Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he said, “We need you to come to Saintcrow’s lair.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Saintcrow’s sire has the Methuselah Stone.”

Izabela’s brows shot up to her hairline when she took a closer look at the heavy gold medallion hanging from a thick gold chain around the female vampire’s neck. “So she does.”

“We need your help to exorcise Luca’s curse from Kadie.”

“Do you?”

“Dammit, don’t play games with us,” Kincaid snapped. “Not now.”

“I will not have that female in my house. Her heart is blacker than Satan’s soul.”

Eleni scowled at the witch, but said nothing.

Saintcrow pushed Kincaid out of the way. “I need your help, dammit. And I need it now. After all the blood I’ve given you, it’s the least you can do.”

“You think so, do you? I will not have that woman near me. And since she is your sire, you cannot keep her out of your house.”

It might be wiser to bring Kadie here, Saintcrow thought. Better to cure her in New Orleans than Morgan Creek. For all they knew, the curse was still active in Wyoming.

“What if I bring Kadie here? Will you help me, then?” Saintcrow went still as the witch’s gaze moved over him. He felt it physically, like a cold hand against his skin.

“And if I agree, what will you give me?”

“What do you want?” It was a foolish question, he thought.

“A pint of blood.”

“Dammit, woman …”

“Do not swear at me!”

Saintcrow took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’ve been under a lot of stress, as you can well imagine.”

“Very well. Bring your woman here. But your sire remains outside.”

Saintcrow glanced at Eleni. “Do you agree?”

“Do you intend to fulfill your part of our bargain?”

He nodded curtly.

“And if I wish more than one night?”

Saintcrow swore under his breath. He had seen that coming. Unfortunately, he didn’t know what else he could do except agree. He glanced at Kincaid, who shook his head, and then back at Eleni. “How many more?”

“A week.”

Jaw clenched to stem the angry flow of words that rose in his throat, Saintcrow nodded.

“Very well.” Reaching behind her neck, she unclasped the chain and dropped the medallion in Saintcrow’s hand. “Remember, I know where you live,” she murmured, and vanished from the porch.

“I’ll go get Kadie,” Saintcrow said, handing the medallion to Kincaid. “Don’t go inside until I get back.”

It took only minutes to lift Kadie into his arms and transport them to the witch’s house. Kincaid was waiting for him on the porch.

Izabela’s gaze ran over the woman in Saintcrow’s arms. She looked more dead than alive. Thin. Pale. Barely breathing. With her hand on the screen door’s lock, the witch asked, “Do you mean me any harm?”

“No. Not you or anyone within your house.”

“And you, Kincaid?”

“I mean you no harm.”

“Very well,” she said, unlocking the screen door. “You may enter.”

Once they were inside, Izabela led the way into what Saintcrow figured was a guestroom.

It was furnished with a twin bed covered with a fringed, yellow spread the same color as the curtains that fluttered at the half-open single window.

A small ebony chest of drawers and a matching rocker filled the rest of the room.

Izabela gestured at the bed and Saintcrow laid Kadie there. “Are you sure you wish for me to do this?” the witch asked.

“Of course.”

“Do not answer so quickly,” Izabela admonished.

“There are no guarantees that this will work. There are always risks involved when one unlocks dark magic. There could be unknown complications. The Methuselah Stone is notoriously fickle and there have been instances where the cure was worse than the enchantment it was meant to undo.”

“Well, damn,” Saintcrow muttered. “Don’t you think you might have mentioned that before?”

Izabela shrugged. “It slipped my mind.”

Saintcrow took Kadie’s cold hands in both of his. Kadie, Kadie, what do you want me to do?

“Nothing is certain in the world of magic,” Izabela said quietly, “but I promise you I will do my best. The decision is yours.”

Kincaid glanced at Saintcrow, waiting for his affirmative nod before he passed the medallion to Izabela.

There was a rush of icy cold wind as Izabela’s fingers closed around the artifact.

Chanting softly, she reached into one of her skirt pockets and withdrew a small bowl to which she added several ingredients that looked like herbs.

Reaching into another pocket, she pulled out a small knife.

Still chanting, Izabela cut a small X in Kadie’s left palm and dipped her fingers in the blood that oozed from the wound.

Her chanting changed, her voice deepening, as she smeared the blood over the medallion.

The metal hissed and then began to glow with a cold yellow flame.

Saintcrow frowned as Izabela pried the small vial from the center of the medallion and removed the tiny cork. Still chanting, the witch lifted Kadie’s head, opened Kadie’s mouth and poured the contents down her throat.

The room shook violently as another blast of icy wind swirled around the room. A low moan rose from Kadie’s throat and she began to thrash about on the bed, her face contorted with pain, her hands knotting into fists.

“Dammit, what have you done?” Saintcrow exclaimed. “You’re killing her!”

“Be quiet, vampire!” Izabela commanded.

Still watching Kadie, he fell silent, his gaze intent upon the witch.

Laying her hand over Kadie’s heart, Izabela spoke a few words in a language he had never heard before.

Gradually, the ghost wind died away and an eerie silence prevailed.

Saintcrow let out an exultant cry when Kadie’s eyelids fluttered open. Whispering her name, he sat on the edge of the bed and gathered her into his arms. “Kadie, sweetheart, thank heaven.”

She blinked up at him through the beautiful golden-brown eyes he had not seen in months. Then, looking confused, her voice raw with disuse, she said, “Who are you?”

Saintcrow stared at her in stunned disbelief. What the hell? He heard Izabela’s voice in the back of his mind, warning that there could be complications. But he had never imagined anything like this.

Izabela tugged on Kincaid’s arm. “I think these two need to be alone.”

“She’s right, Jake,” Saintcrow said. “Why don’t you go tell the family the curse is broken, more or less.”

“Are you going back to Morgan Creek?”

“Not until I’m sure it’s safe. I’ll let you know where we go from here.”

Izabella cleaned up the bowl, herbs and knife. Then, with a nod, Kincaid followed the witch out of the room, and shut the door behind him.

When they were alone, Kadie wriggled out Saintcrow’s arms and scooted to the far side of the bed. He was trying to think of a way to explain what had just happened when Kadie again asked, “Who are you?” in a raspy voice.

A dozen answers ran through his mind but all he said was, “Rylan Saintcrow.”

She stared at him blankly. The name meant nothing to her. Folding her arms over her chest, she said, “Who am I? Where am I?”

Saintcrow swore softly. Damn . The medallion had cured her body but had erased her memories. Leaning forward a little so as not to spook her, he drew a deep breath.

Not only were her memories gone, but she was human again.