the other, wary of any possible magical retaliation. His fingers waggled near his thighs, as if a gunslinger judging when best to draw. “The Nacht März.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Wow, you’re trying an evasive tactic with me? I know you better than your own twin brother, Jones. I can feel your lies on my skin like faulty spellcraft missing its mark.”
Grim was confident of his skills, and smart. He could read CJ, as CJ could read the warlock’s nervousness in his pacing.
“As a matter of fact, I do have it. I’m enacting the march tomorrow evening.”
Grim’s expression was a treat. Rarely could he surprise the man. And then his surprise turned to fury. “That should be my call! I was the one to discover its existence.”
“Only because of my father.”
“Indeed. Following in Daddy’s footsteps, eh? You’ll be warlock soon enough.”
“Never.”
CJ dodged the incoming blast of air magic. A simple cast that further detailed Grim’s lack of confidence at this moment. He was grasping for whatever was to hand, not thinking.
“You wanted the damned thing? My snatch,” CJ said. Keeping his left hand open and ready to repulse retaliatory magic, he stood calmly. “It’s always been first come, first served with us, yes? You did take the Sidon’s Eye right out of my hands.”
“Your lover’s fickle hands, you mean.”
CJ sighed. The winter of 1936. Sidon’s Eye would have granted the holder great power to see beyond this mortal veil and into the Edge, a place much more interesting and far less explored than Daemonia. Unfortunately, Certainly’s lover’s greed had been more vast than his curiosity over the object. That had been the last time he’d trusted a woman, or had the time for one.
“I’d like to invite you to witness the March,” CJ said, putting up his palm to block, this time, an arrow of vampire ash stirred up from the floor and aimed for his eyes. The ash dispersed about his palm and went around his head on both sides. “That is, if you stop acting the child and accept the fact I won this round.”
“How did you do it? In order to gain entrance to Daemonia, a man must consume a vampire heart a day, increasing in succession daily for a month.” Grim glanced aside to the bloody heart, still pulsing on the floor. “I’ve not the stomach for it. And I’m only on day twelve.”
CJ shook his head. Not about to divulge how he’d achieved that one. His father’s grimoire had revealed a dangerous secret entrance. “Tomorrow at midnight in the C tunnel beyond Val de Seine. Come alone. You can claim the Night March after I’ve summoned it.”
“And why would you give me that control? You’re up to something.”
“I most likely am.”
And Certainly drew up the cloak once again, turned and walked out of the building, confident Grim could not see or sense his departure. He chuckled when the warlock let out a frustrated shout and kicked at the ash pile. He’d won this round.
Regrettably, he could take no pride in such an accomplishment because it had dragged the woman he loved into the center, and it now threatened her very soul.
* * *
Libby held the flashlight while Vika fastened the prism before the bulb. She’d removed the glass and, after trying string and cord, found wire worked best, along with a bit of solder.
“You think this is necessary?” Libby asked. “A backup plan? Don’t you trust CJ?”
“Of course I trust him.”
“But we found the ward.” Libby nodded to the open grimoire on the spell table. The ward could be placed on an individual, unknowing, and would protect the person from malefic magic.
“The ward is against Grim. I don’t know why he went to talk to the warlock, but for whatever reason, I want to have that tool to my arsenal should it become necessary to use. This—” she studied the completed flashlight “—is to keep me safe.”
Libby’s eyes teared. “This is too big for you, Vika.”
It was, but she didn’t want to admit it. If CJ could handle it, she could. She touched her sister’s cheek, catching the teardrop and feeling its sadness enter her pores.
“Remember what you told me about love,” Libby said. “Don’t get lost in it.”
She was already lost. And she liked being there.
“We both ignored that sage wisdom,” she said. “Have you any regrets?”
Libby shook her head and couldn’t stop her swooning grin.
* * *
From the sixth-floor window, Vika tracked CJ’s race home from the café at the end of the street.