OIL OF PEPPERMINT, a shaker filled with salt. A small glass jar held bat wings, another container was labeled DRAGONSBLOOD. A third had no label. And when she removed the lid, no odor. Puzzled, she replaced the cap and put it aside.
A small wooden box held a silver pentacle on a lovely chain. A black velvet bag contained an exquisite golden chalice etched with mystical symbols and runes.
When Callie ran her fingers over the pentacle, she was overcome by the feeling that her grandmother was standing behind her, that the air held a whiff of Ava’s favorite perfume. Holding her breath, Callie glanced over her shoulder, let out a shaky laugh when there was no one there.
“What’s all this?”
Callie whirled around, one hand at her throat at the sound of Quill’s voice. “Oh, my gosh! You scared me half to death!”
He lifted one brow. “You look as pale as if you’d seen a ghost instead of an ordinary, run-of-the-mill vampire.”
She shrugged one shoulder, feeling suddenly foolish. “You’re going to think it’s silly, but when I touched my grandmother’s pentacle, I felt as if she was standing behind me. I’d swear I could smell her perfume.”
Quill nodded. As he recalled, Ava had always worn lily of the valley. It had clung to her hair, her skin, her clothes. Even now, he caught a faint scent of it emanating from the black velvet bag on the table. “It’s not silly at all. You’re a witch, Callie. If you open your senses, you’ll be able to detect things others can’t.”
She blinked up at him. “But she wasn’t really here.”
“No. But this was her home. These things connected her to her magic, which you inherited from her. It’s a powerful bond, sweet Callie. I’ve no doubt your abilities are as strong as hers, if not stronger.”
She thought that over a moment and then frowned. “How do you know so much about my grandmother?”
Damn. Was now the time to tell her the truth?
“Quill?”
“I just know a lot about witches,” he said. Which was partly true. He knew a lot about one particular witch. “I can sense the magic lying dormant within you. For it to be so strong, your grandmother must have been a powerful witch. And from the number of books she left you, it’s obvious she studied her craft.”
Callie nodded slowly.
“Why don’t you pack these things and whatever else you’ll need and bring them with you? There’s a lot of empty space where we’re going. A perfect place to practice your magic without hurting anyone.”
She smiled at him. “That’s a good idea.” Suddenly excited at the prospect of being able to experiment with her powers, she said, “Why don’t we leave tomorrow instead of Monday? I’ll call Vivian and let her know we’re leaving early.”
“Sounds good to me.” Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her. “I’m going back to my place to pack. I won’t be back until after dark.”
“Why so long?”
His gaze drifted to her throat. “I need to feed.”
“What’s it like?” she asked. “Feeding on people?”
Releasing her, he dragged his hand over his jaw. What was it like? “I don’t know how to explain it. It comes naturally to me.”
“Does it hurt the people you prey on?”
“Does it hurt when I drink from you?”
“No. It feels wonderful.” She looked up at him, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Does it feel that way for everyone?”
He stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “If I choose to make it so.”
“Do you?”
He smiled at her. “Yes.”
She was glad he didn’t hurt anyone. At the same time, she felt a sharp stab of jealousy knowing other women felt the same way she did. “Do you feed on men, too?”
“Occasionally.”
“Do they feel the same sensual pleasure I do?”
Quill chuckled, amused by her questions. “No.”
She cocked her head to the side, her expression thoughtful. “Does all blood taste the same?”
“No, my curious one. Yours is the sweetest of all.” Pulling her into his arms again, he brushed a kiss across her lips, her cheek, the tip of her nose. “Don’t forget to lock the door after me.”
* * *
While packing her grandmother’s things, Callie tried to imagine what it would be like to be a vampire, to go out into the night and prey on unsuspecting men and women. To drink their blood. Try as she might, she just couldn’t imagine it. It seemed so bizarre, so primal.
She tossed the last of the things she had decided to take with her into the navy-blue suitcase, then called Vivian