Page 44 of Toadstools and Vampire Kisses

Growling, I adjust my wings around Fran to cover as much of her as possible. Her chest is plastered against mine before I turn and face the male intruding on our intimacy. I know that he is merely doing as I asked, but the blistering wave of hostility that surges through me is the exact reason that mated vampires dwell away from the coven residence. My entire body vibrates with barely contained violence. Fran’s hands soothingly stroking my chest help me regain a sense of stability.

“I trust this means that it is done.”

He inclines his head. “It is done.”

“Good. I will fly us back to the house. Proceed ahead of us and search the ballroom for any trace of lingering spores. Fran is certain that there should be some. Collect what you can and wait for me.”

Ulrek raises a brow but nods. “I suspect that this all has something to do with a conjuring? I felt the blast of magic as I was winging my way toward you, and it nearly knocked me out of the air.”

“Yes,” Fran says, twisting slightly in my grasp so that she can peer over her shoulder at the other male. Although this makes my blood boil even more knowing that my naked mate is looking at another, her calm continues to steady me. All the same, I am immensely grateful that she does not argue with my orders. “Meet us at the attic. I’m going to change into something more comfortable for work and get the supplies I need from my room first, but will head up there directly to begin the casting.”

“And you need the spores for this?” He gives her a curious look, something too close akin to admiration for my peace of mind.

“Yes. They are necessary to create a defensive perimeter around the household until this is all resolved, just in case whoever is attacking us tries to use the same trick twice.”

“Unlikely, but that is sensible,” he agrees. “Very well. I shall await you.”

Ulrek turns away, his entire body turning shadowy before reforming into a large black bird. A raven. He gives us one final look before leaping into the sky with a furious snap of his wings.

Relieved that he is finally gone, I carefully lower Fran to her feet once more and unfurl the restrictive binding of wings from around her. She gives me a smile but hurriedly begins to pull on her clothes again while I tug up and refasten my trousers. The front of them bears traces of our mingled scent where her slick rubbed before I stood and allowed my pants to drop down around my ankles, but it is a small enough amount that I do not think it will prime my instinctive jealousy.

Thank the gods that she did not suggest that he meet us at her bedroom. I have no idea what I might have done.

Scooping Fran once more into my arms, I carry her back through the air to the Durmont house and directly up to her room. I do not set her down until we are behind her closed door. The moment I release my mate, I watch her, trying not to hover as she quickly strips off her dirty garments and digs out a fresh, loose robe. She pulls on over her nude body as she hurries over to her hidden cupboards. Picking a basket up from the floor, she proceeds to fill it with various jars, one of which indeed carries long, thin bones. She notes the direction of my gaze and smiles.

“Fox bacula,” she says quickly, a flush spreading up her cheeks. I stare at it, discomforted. “I have quite a bit of fox bones since there are a lot out in these woods as well as near my cabin where I live. I come across their remains every now and then.”

“Butthatpart,” I protest weakly, and my mate laughs.

She pats my chest as she passes. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t miss it any more than he misses the other bits and pieces I harvested. It’s just a happy coincidence that the magic was started by another fox,” she says, giving me a bawdy wink. “The baculum will feed the generative part of the spell so that the toadstools grow quickly and reproduce around our home. This fellow, should he be agreeable to serve, shall be a protector of our home like he would his own den full of kits. A good warning system against anything that crosses the barrier.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Do you always prepare secondary measures into your spells?”

She nods. “When I can. I don’t go overboard, since clarity is preferred for the strength of the spell, but when a secondary measure can be added in cooperation with the first, I find it useful.”

Plucking her cellphone off her nightstand, I watch as her finger swipes across it before touching a symbol on its screen. A chart opens up and she scrolls down on it, her eyes flicking only once to the time at the upper corner.

“Perfect, we’re coming into the hour of Saturn. That will do,” she mumbles to herself.

I know little of witchery or mage craft, depending on my own innate abilities alone, but I follow her with as much curiosity as to fulfill the needs of my every protective instinct roaring to the fore. Ulrek meets us just outside the stairs to the attic, and I am grateful when he simply passes a vial over without a word and leaves as she proceeds into the attic ahead of me.

Following her up, I hand off the vial and watch as she begins to set up her workspace on a low table. Naturally, I do not recognize anything on it and keep a respectful distance so that I do not get in her way. After everything is arranged to her liking, she empties the contents of the vial into a small cauldron with what appears to be water set in the center of the altar and steps back, her eyes fluttering closed in a trance-like state.

A hum of power itches beneath my skin as it fills the air as it seems to draw in toward Fran. Her hands rise in response to it like a maestro helming a performance, and this time I am afforded the ability to watch as they weave gracefully through the air, her whispered incantation causing the air around us to spark as energies redirect and align. Every so often, she reaches down to pluck an ingredient from her basket to toss into the cauldron, the energy flaring higher and with more complicated patterns of her will, setting the work it weaves morphing in those flares. When it at last flares with a green glow that hovers over the top of the cauldron, Fran’s shoulders relax.

“We will need to release this to sow in the early hours beneath the light of the moon as it’s nearing its fullness. My estimation, and this handy little app,” she glances over at the phone she carried up with her, “the best time seems to be at five. We have a few hours that we can rest until then.”

“I did not realize that there were apps for magic,” I reply drolly as I watch her take a ladle and transfer the contents of the cauldron into a bottle that glows and pulses with its spell.

She grins over at me. “Pretty nifty, huh? Saves me so many hours of hateful math. I can’t imagine how witches even got much done without them.” She laughs. “Now let’s get out of here, handsome. I’ll handle the clean up later. Right now, I can’t think of a better place to be than snuggled in bed with you for what hours we have left tonight.”

A slow smile spread across my face as she passes, my entire body subtly vibrating with interest as I catch another whiff of her sweet scent. We shall sleep, yes… eventually. I had not nearly had enough of my mate yet. The interruption needs righting. My smile widening, I stalk after my mate eagerly, more than ready to pick back up where we left off.

ChapterTwenty-Six

FRAN

The spores were simple to spread. Since rings of fungi are formed from a larger mass beneath the ground, I picked a spot near the house to plant my spell so that it can begin its work beneath the ground. By sunrise I could feel the mass of toadstools encircling our home and knew that throughout the day they would only grow thicker as they formed the impenetrable barrier. This is not the first time a witch has formed a barrier spell, but it has been ages since any have been maintained, the spells allowed to crumble without any direct dangers to the coven. With the way that our world has changed, we should have thought of renewing our wards sooner as new dangers have been introduced to us that we never knew were there.

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