“Yeah, yeah,” Saintcrow muttered, as he bit into his wrist. “Why not take some home for your cat, too?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Luca’s head snapped up, the mixture in the cauldron momentarily forgotten in the face of the unexpected. The curse on Wyoming had been broken. A long string of vile oaths in every language he knew filled the air. How had the vampires managed it?
The witch, he thought. Of course. The black witch who had trapped him in that damn soul-catcher. He stared into the cauldron and swore again as he felt his outrage drain the magic from the spell he had been concocting. A month’s work ruined.
Rage rose within him. Lifting the cauldron, he hurled it across the room, swore again as the contents peeled the paint off the walls, set the throw rug on fire, and tainted the air with the stink of old blood and brimstone.
He had spent weeks searching occult and paranormal bookstores across the country searching for replacements for the books, ancient manuscripts, and magical implements he had lost when Kincaid destroyed the cellar in his old house. Books that had taken him years to find. He had spent decades learning to master the knowledge and wisdom contained in those ancient tomes. Starting over hadn’t been easy. True, some of his lesser magic was innate, but the more complicated spells and enchantments had taken an inordinate amount of time and practice to master.
He had needed a spell—a very particular spell—to settle his score with the vampires, and with the black witch, Izabela, who had trapped his soul in a box that had very nearly destroyed him. Now, in a moment of useless rage, he had destroyed it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Saintcrow called Kadie the next afternoon. He was pleased when he heard a faint smile in her voice. “Are you busy?”
“Not really,” she said. “Why?”
“You remember that town I told you about? Morgan Creek?”
“Sure. Don’t tell me it burned down?”
“No,” he said, with a laugh. “I’m gonna re-open it in a couple of weeks. I thought maybe you’d like to come and see it. Maybe stay for a few days.”
She didn’t answer right away. He could sense her hesitation. Letting his mind brush hers, he caught her arguing with herself, listing the reasons why she shouldn’t go. She barely knew him. They would be alone. There would be no one to call if she needed help. They might have been friends in the past, but he was a stranger now …
“It’s all right,” he said, not wanting to pressure her or spook her. “Maybe I’ll give you a call when we’re open again.”
“Yes,” she said, a note of relief in her voice. “I’d like that.”
“Have a good day, Kadie,” he said, and ended the call.
Kadie tapped her finger on her phone, then did a Google search for Morgan Creek. It was located in Wyoming and had once been a haven for people crossing the country on theirway West. Pioneers had used it as a resting place. Indians had watered their ponies there. Outlaws had used it as a hideout for several years. Then, as happened to so many Old West towns, other routes West had been found, gold mines had played out, saloons had dried up. It had been pretty much forgotten until an anonymous company bought up all the land at an auction and eventually turned it into a thriving getaway.
Kadie nodded as she finished reading, more certain than ever that Rylan Saintcrow was a millionaire, or darn close to it.
She ran into him several times in the next week—at the movies again, walking along Bourbon Street, in a club that played the blues. When she ran into him at a bookstore in the French Quarter, she began to wonder if he was stalking her.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” Saintcrow said, putting aside the book he had been thumbing through.
“Is it? I’m beginning to think you’re following me.”
“Excuse me, but I was here first. Perhapsyou’re followingme.” She was right, of course. Hewasfollowing her. He had only to read her mind to know where she was going.
Kadie felt her cheeks grow warm. Hehadbeen there first, and at the other places, as well. “Just a coincidence, I guess,” she said, not meeting his eyes. He didn’t need to stalk her. He knew where she was staying. He was paying for it, after all. And she fully intended to pay him back when she could. To that end, she kept a list of everything she charged on his credit card. One of these days, she needed to sit down and decide what she was going to do about her future. Was that even possible when she couldn’t remember her past? But that was a worry for another day.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he said.
When he turned and started toward the door, she called his name.
Saintcrow turned. “Did you need something?”
“I didn’t mean to be rude,” she said. “Maybe we could go have a cup of coffee or something.”
“I’d like that.” His smile threatened to steal her breath away, the look in his dark eyes almost mesmerizing. “Where would you like to go?”
Kadie shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”