Page 119 of Castings & Curses

“If you’re done chatting we should find the others.”

“All done.” She shot a look over her shoulder. Levi’s murderer continued backing away, all the while flicking his eyes between her and the vampire. “Let’s go.”

The vampire led her up the alley and away from the gray sandstone building. Shivering, not from the piercing cold but from an avalanche of terrifying what-ifs, she appreciated his steadying hand on her low back. The itchy sensation of being watched chased her until they turned onto a through street.

As she walked beneath an oval of light from a street pole, she fumbled her glove off and shut down her flashlight app, then tucked her phone into her pocket. She eased away from the vampire once her feet hit the sidewalk.

With every step, she felt a smidgeon calmer, even though her heart still raced. “Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but what are you doing here?”

“Coming to your rescue. Miles Garner. At your service, milady.”

“Priya Carmichael. Thank you. Were you … following me?”

“No. Merely going the same direction as you.”

“Really?” She looked up at him and arched a brow. “You were going in the opposite direction of me when I bumped into you.”

“Yes, well.” Miles played with the zipper on his down jacket. “Maybe I followed you for a little while. You’re a beautiful woman and I hoped I’d get a second chance to invite you for a cup of coffee or cocoa and talk.”

Hearing herself described as beautiful sent a giddy thrill through Priya. “Just talk?”

A few blocks ahead of them, she saw a stream of pedestrian traffic. A few minutes ago the bustle of holiday shoppers felt a million miles away. The sight was both comforting and a tiny bit overwhelming. She drifted closer to Miles.

“Yes, talk,” he said in an aggrieved tone. “Just because I’m a vampire doesn’t mean I drink the blood of every intriguing woman I encounter.”

Although the blood-drinking was unsettling, she found herself blushing at the compliment.

“What were you doing there?” Miles demanded. “On the ground. In front of that window?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.” He graced her with a fangless smile.

“Trying to help someone. I need to go back there.”

Miles gripped her elbow, propelling her toward the rush of traffic ahead. “That is a bad idea. I don’t think that Santa was about to ask you what you wanted for Christmas.”

The basement window tugged at her. Miles didn’t seem inclined to release her. If she told him exactly why she needed to go back, would he think her mad? Or would he believe her? It would be handy to have him along as reinforcement.

“You were talking with someone,” he said. “At first I thought you were on your phone, then I realized you weren’t. Are you wearing a wire? Are you a private investigator working on a case? Shouldn’t you have backup?”

“No. I’m not a private investigator. Or wearing a wire.” She hesitated, chewing on her lip for a moment before blurting out, “I see ghosts.” Priya steeled herself for his laughter. The muscles in her shoulders and belly tightened as if expecting a blow.

Miles didn’t laugh nor did he loosen his grip, but he did stop walking. “Ghosts. There are actually ghosts?”

“Yes.”

“You were talking with a ghost.” He angled his head, studying her intently.

Did he think she was a necromancer? Most supernaturals held contempt for those black-magic practitioners who controlled the dead. What was she thinking, admitting to a vampire she talked with the dead? A strong current of tension hummed through her. Were vampires dead? Certain religious zealots claimed they were. Plenty of horror movies portrayed them as the undead, rising from their graves after their mortal death, and sleeping in coffins. The truth was no one outside the vampire community knew how they became vampires. The governing Primes kept their secrets close. Priya swallowed hard, wishing with all her might she could rewind time, and ignored Belinda Hawthorne’s call. If Miles thought she could control him, or any vampire, she imagined her life would be forfeit.

“Are you a medium?” he asked. “Like the woman on that television show.”

Plenty of non-magics claimed to be mediums. Priya couldn’t suppress her shudder of relief. The wind whistled around them. She hoped he’d attribute her reaction to just being cold. “Something like that.”

His dark eyes traveled over her face. “You talk to ghosts. Huh. Fascinating.”

Not the reaction she expected, typically people scoffed at the suggestion she could communicate with ghosts or were downright afraid of her.

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