It was the home of a black witch with a veritable arsenal of nasty items. The client wanted one of them: a set of slaver rings. They would be delivered, but unfortunately were defunct. No more than trinkets, the mark must have kept them for their historical value. Terrible, really, but the original intel from the client had made no indication as to their functionality, and the job acceptance had come with no guarantees. These things happen over a couple thousand years. So sorry.
The place was a metaphysical Fort Knox. I would be going in with just my knife, splat gun, lock picks, rope coiled on my belt, and the usual cosmetic charm to change my appearance slightly. I wasn't even bringing my bag in case I needed to move quickly, so no street clothes. Also less chances of leaving focusing items behind that way.
No street clothes meant no public transit. Cabbies couldn't be trusted long enough to make it to the first vampire flight out to the West Coast, and a bright yellow car wasn't exactly stealthy. So this meant boosting a car since I didn't have one here in Houston.
The fool actually had a state of the art security system, complete with cameras. I'd already bribed the pixies living in the park across the street with a jar of imported gourmet honey to mess with their system in a cascading failure. If all went according to plan, the security team would be split between tracking down the issue and patrolling the perimeters in order to make up for the weakness, thus leaving the interior relatively unprotected.
Two flashes of faint blue sparkles from the bushes edging the park. Go time. Getting a running start, I leapt as high on the stone wall as I could, grabbing the rope that I already had anchored. The moron actually had decorative wrought iron spikes at the top, which were perfect for throwing a slip knot over, as long as the cameras aimed at them weren't working. Crouching over the metal, I retrieved the rope before tumbling to the garden.
The greenery here was small, but not too small for me to hide while waiting for my window of opportunity. A small flash of green over the far wall. Coast is clear for thirty seconds. I sprinted for the house, although 'mansion' was perhaps a better word. I aimed for the low, decorative bushes ringing the foundations and ducked down as low as possible until the approaching footsteps passed. Single guard with a spell detecting amulet and a gun. Don't get caught, don't get dead.
Once he was gone, I broke out the glass of a basement window with a quick kick. At least those were interspersed with the bushes so they weren't hidden from view. I just had to rely on their divided attention to keep it unnoticed. Slipping in through the window, I listened for the sound of patrols on that level. Nothing. I crept from the mechanical room into the short hallway, resisting the urge to cut the phones and power. That would not only alert them that I was there, but where I was.
At the end of the hallway were the stairs leading to the kitchen, and from there, another set to the second floor. I hesitated at the top, the lights were off, save for a small one over the sink. Passing through, I couldn't help but compare it to Al's. While this one was bigger, grander, shinier, his was more casual and sized for one or two people. This kitchen I thought I could get lost in, which was a possibility considering my crash pads tend to have little more than beer fridges and microwaves. Focus, idiot.
The second flight of narrow stairs was really more of an access way for staff. It was well lit and had blind corners. I kept my breath shallow and paused every other step to listen, the splat gun sweaty in my grip. My heart nearly stopped when the back door to the kitchen opened and shut. Instead of coming up the stairs, they continued on to the front of the house on their sweep.
A ward served as the door to the display room. Holding my breath, I checked for any other nasty surprises. Nothing on the hallway side at least. Concentrating, stilling even the part of me that was always listening for something coming up from behind, I slowly exerted my will on the sheet of ever after. A moment later and it flashed to my blood and sunlight, allowing me to pass through.
Once I entered, alarms both magical and digital sounded. An honest to god portcullis dropped down behind me. Well, fuck me three ways from Sunday. A trap. It looked like my double dealings had caught up with me. I smashed a display case to grab the rings. They looked so innocuous, but when I shoved them down the neck of my suit they felt cold and slimy as they slipped into my cleavage.
The window at the far end of the room was reinforced, but it should go down with an acid ball. The first one started to eat through, but unless I wanted to squeeze through the small acid lined hole… I was just working on the next one when the footsteps on the stairs became footsteps in the hallway.
Vibrant green goo splattered on the glass, but was not working near as fast as I would have liked. I circled myself just as the iron gate receded to allow the security team to enter. Just as the hole was getting big enough for me to jump through, they opened fire. Though the circle was undrawn, I managed to just barely hold it. My concentration was entirely absorbed with maintaining and left no room for planning, running, or defense. All I could do was crouch on the carpet and flinch with each deafening pop.
They were smart. And good. Only one fired at a time, aiming at an angle that the inevitable ricochet either landed in the ceiling or cracked the window further. Someone took up the onslaught while the other reloaded. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck and harsh gunpowder filled the air till I choked on it. Then more people joined the party. While the gunmen were earth witches, the new arrivals were the ley line witches. Judging by the way they began setting a net to take down my bubble and trap me at the same time.
I thumbed the safety off my splat gun and fired up an energy ball in my off hand. It was my undoing. The fraction of my attention that creating the sphere took was just enough to weaken the circle so that when the next bullet hit my protection dropped. The one who just fired took the crackling orb and his buddy took a sleepy time ball to the chest. As they fell, I ran for the window.
But I wasn't fast enough. Something hit me in my back and sucked the breath out of me. Tendrils of searing pain twined throughout me, like dark tentacles to devour my lifeforce. I hit the floor hard and my only thought was that I was grateful that the carpet was thick, even though I barely registered the impact. My vision was dimming. Not a good sign. The rough pile was warm against my cheek, but I was cold. Feet were coming towards me. "Algaliarept, help," I whispered.
A loud pop of displaced air and the scent of musk sent the tears that had been threatening to spilling over. The heel of a black boot stood inches from my face. A couple of loud thuds shook the floor under me. Strong arms cradled me to a firm chest and the tears flowed in earnest. The last thing I saw were fiery red eyes.
Seeing her small broken body unleashed a fury in me that I thought I'd left behind in the old ever after. I had ripped into the puny runts to splatter the walls with their blood. My only regret was that I couldn't spare the time to destroy them slowly. Apparently we can't truly change our natures. I was just grateful that she hadn't seen the carnage. The physical damage was readily healed, a bullet had grazed her thigh, without a scar to show for it. But her aura had been stripped away to almost nothing.
"Stupid little witch," I muttered at her ashen face as I picked her up from the floor. She felt too light and cold in my arms.
Simply saying my name wouldn't summon me, but under the right conditions it could catch my attention. Such as if I had a scrying spell tuned to her via a focusing object. She had been careful to not leave any hair behind, and to burn the toothbrush, but in the aftermath her used dishes, silverware, and the robe had been forgotten. I would have to think of a suitably evasive response for when she inevitably asked how I found her. She would not thank me for that invasion of her privacy, not even if it had saved her life.
She was going to need some place to recover. I didn't know any of her safehouses safe the most recent one and that was most likely compromised. My place was currently crawling with construction crews during the day. Rachel's was the best option, but I had promised. Technically I had promised not to take her to Cincinnati until she was ready, and her current state could be construed as ready to go to Trenton's hidden facility for care. Yet she would see it as a violation of trust. There was only one option.
Once we rematerialized in my room, I tucked her into bed and changed her out of her catsuit into a nightgown with a curse. I sank into an armchair and rested my chin on a fist as I wondered what to do with her when she woke, or rather what she would do. She looked even more pallid in the moonlight against the white linens. It was just my luck that the first woman in this bed was an comatose, damaged, temperamental pain in my ass. I contemplated the chances that the pattern of demon-witches costing me my home would continue.
A faint whimper pulled me from my half-asleep reverie. She began to thrash as the nightmares set in. They would be worse without her aura. With a sigh, I changed into green silk pajamas and slipped in beside her. When I wrapped my arms around her, I felt a hard lump under her nightgown on her stomach. Frowning, I carefully reached up under the fabric to find two metal pieces. Air hissed sharply between my clenched as I recognized the vile bands that must have been tucked inside of her spandex bodysuit. I flung them onto the armchair to properly destroy later.
I settled back onto the mattress and cradled her body into mine. She relaxed once my aura enveloped her. While I could not nurture hers in the same way that a female could, it was better than nothing, which was pretty much what she currently had.
I marveled at how well she fit against my chest, the contour of her ass matched my hips, the curve of her waist seemed made for my arms. The silky plait of her hair under my nose filled me with her intoxicating spice. She wriggled into me until every possible inch of us was in contact and relaxed with a contented little mewl. I wanted her very much at that moment, but even though I had just murdered several people in a blind rage before torching the house to destroy any evidence, I was not a monster.
There had been many women, and a few men, over the centuries, but very few of them had ever managed to draw out my better side, if I could be said to have one, whilst simultaneously provoking such lust. If she knew of the rising hunger I felt, she would run. And yet if it were purely physical, then why did I want to protect her? She just looked so vulnerable that the instinct arose. Although she would likely stab my family jewels for certain with that letter opener of hers for insinuating that she was incapable of taking care of herself.
A different ache, higher and in my chest, grew sharper. I tightened my hold on her and whispered in her ear, "You are safe." She sighed happily and the pain and fear that had been threading through her smell finally eased. My last thought as I fell asleep was that I could breathe in her scent forever.