Blood Curse (DarkWorld: A Soul Tracker Novel Book 3) Page 4

  I’d heard of Kitsune, but having never seen one I had to admit I was enthralled. The man was elegant, tall, well-built, his pointed nose and hollow cheekbones making him look very . . . foxy.

  And he wore a salmon-pink tailored suit.

  The only thing setting him apart from any normal human was the fox-tail that swung from the base of his spine.

  Though well-glamored from human eyes, it wasn’t hidden from me.

  I stared at the tail, then back up at the man’s knowing eyes.

  “You know what I am?” A canine caught the light and glinted as he smiled.

  I nodded. What was the point in lying?

  “Do you know who I am?” he asked, leaning forward to undo the zip ties.

  I braced myself for the jump when cool blade of a knife grazed my ankles. “I do hope you will forgive my useless staff.”

  The man leaned closer, sawing the zip ties, then smiled as they gave a small snap. I steeled against the urge to back away from his teeth—I dealt with shifters all the time but this one set me on edge. Maybe it was the whole abduction thing that made me wary.

  Only the twinkle in his eye made me wonder if he was just playing with me.

  "So? Who are you?" I lifted a brow as he tucked the plastic ties into his jacket pocket and stood.

  He scowled, then straightened, tugging at the lapels of his jacket. "My name is Jon Tanaka."

  I nodded, my bare feet having made me aware that I’d been caught unarmed as well, my daggers and gun all still inside my hotel room. "Hello, Jon Tanaka. I'd like to say that it's a pleasure to meet you, but I also pride myself in being honest."

  He grinned. "Ah. A sense of humor,” the kitsune began to pace in front of me, "I apologize if you were frightened. You were not meant to be harmed in any way, physically or emotionally. My employer will be very unhappy if you were unhappy."

  "I feel sorry for your employer, because I am unhappy," I glared at him.

  He grinned again and I was beginning to tire of his cheerful smile.

  Then Tanaka inhaled sharply, as if remembering something, then met my gaze head on. "My employer will be along shortly." He bowed low. "Again, I apologize for any discomfort. My men will ensure you have something to eat in the interim."

  Then he left in a flurry of orange dust. I raised an eyebrow at the empty spot. Then glance around me. One of the guards, the smaller one this time, stood beside the door, arms folded, shades hiding his eyes.

  I gave him a thin smile then got to my feet and massaged my wrists. Walking over to the window, I stared out at the Hong Kong skyline. The building was across the city from the Garner hotel.

  Did Garner know what had happened to me?

  Or perhaps she was the one who'd set me up. Was her son real, or were all those articles just a fiction created using internet search engines?

  I shook my head and folded my arms, feeling the bulge of my cellphone in the pocket of my pajama shirt.

  Facing the window, I retrieved the phone, set it on silent and sent a message to Steph telling her where I was and what had happened. She replied within seconds saying she was already tapping into the hotel’s security feed.

  Then I shut the phone and glanced over my shoulder.

  “I thought there was food,” I asked with a thin smile.

  He gave a short nod, opened the door, spoke a few words to someone outside and then returned to his original position.

  Great. That meant he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

  I should be grateful they'd removed the zip ties. I still wore the cuffs though, which prevented me from teleporting right out of there.

  A few minutes later, a tray arrived with coffee, a fruit salad, yoghurt and toast—breakfast in the middle of the night. How nice.

  I sat at the table and ate quickly, drinking the dark coffee while watching both the guard in the reflection of the window, and the view beyond it. The sky remained a murky black, thick clouds of pollution marring the city skyline.

  The long length of metal chain that attached each of the silver cuffs, allowed me to move comfortably and I began to accept that I wasn't here as a captive.

  Not technically, anyway.

  Or was I just lying to myself? I was, after all, not allowed to leave.

  The door glided open so slowly that I didn’t even notice until the shape of a man moved on the threshold. I rose to my feet, watching Tanaka enter, his expression broadcasting that something big was about to happen.

  He turned on his heel and looked at someone beyond my line of sight, bowed repeatedly and walked backward as his boss entered the room.

  Nothing changed around me and yet everything changed.

  The air felt lighter, against my cheek, and in my lungs as I inhaled.

  A man entered, form and features swathed within a white hooded cloak. The stranger was thin and tall, even taller than his fox lackey. From the shadowed depths of his cowl, his eyes glittered silver.

  Then he stepped closer and I blinked hard.

  He watched me with an unnatural yet non-intrusive intensity, his face a pale as alabaster. Long silver hair flowed from beneath the hood and I gave a short nod as it hit me.

  I was looking at an Immortal Ancient.

  Chapter 6

  Within the supernatural world, the Ancients were designated as Immortals. Made up of Titans, Ancients, Angel and Gods, as well as human-origin immortals, the Immortals were the most long-lived and the most glorified of beings.

  Of the four main categories, the Ancients were named so because they were the oldest of beings, rumored to be even older than the gods. Where gods rose and fell, the ancients were ever existent.

  Ancients were hardly ever known to reveal themselves to mortals.

  And if they did, nobody talked about it.

  So, the fact that I was shocked into silence was completely understandable. But this particular ancient took my silence the wrong way.

  The ancient tilted his head, his hood slipping from his brow, then falling to his shoulders to reveal aquiline features, and intense silver eyes which pierced the kitsune.

  “Jon? What happened?” His voice, though soft, held a strong note of disappointment, lashing out at Tanaka with such intensity that he flinched.

  “I’m sorry, my Lord, I didn’t mean for her to be hurt,” Tanaka said, his face turning red. I almost felt sorry for him. He hesitated, then glanced at me for a moment before focusing on the ancient again. “The boys got a little rough with her while they were retrieving her. I did tell them not to hurt her.”

  My chin rose an inch. “I don’t particularly fancy being abducted,” I said pointedly, watching the neutrality of the ancient’s expression.

  His composure made me wonder if Elise Garner had something to do with this.

  The ancient’s silver gaze shifted to my face, and he tipped his head, his expression faraway as he considered my words.

  Draped in a calm, stillness, he exuded peace, as if silence was his way, and speech was not required unless completely necessary.

  Then he took a breath and stepped toward the kitsune. Tanaka’s lips quivered as words I didn’t understand fell from his lips—a whispered mantra of apologies. He lowered his head, baring his neck as if offering it on a chopping block.

  Woah.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m fine, though. They didn’t hurt me.”

  Both ancient and kitsune glanced sharply at me. But neither was as surprised as I myself was at coming to Chau’s defense—too late to take it back now. When he snapped a grateful glance at me, his lips curving again into his annoyingly cheerful smile, I let out a tense breath.

  The ancient straightened, folded his long pale fingers in front of his waist and watched my face, contemplative, and serene again. “You do not need to defend him, Melisande. He must take responsibility for his own actions.”

  “I understand. But I didn’t give them much choice. I fought them pretty hard. Maybe . . . if I’d come quietly . . . they would not have needed to subd
ue me?”

  I was thinking about my foot, and the solid contact it had made with the man’s family jewels and almost winced at the memory of his high-pitched squeal.

  The ancient took a step closer and the air around me hummed, electric energy enveloping me. “You would defend these men?” He didn’t hide the curiosity in his voice.

  I swallowed hard. “If you are going to hurt them, then yes. I so don’t need anyone hurt in my name. I don’t think I could live with the Karma.”

  The ancient smiled—likely his version of bursting into laughter at my stunning wit—and beckoned me toward the dining table beside the floor-to-ceiling window. My answer must have satisfied him, considering the lack of maiming inflicted on the kitsune.

  Oddly enough, I found myself so very relieved.

  “Come, Melisande. We need to speak. We have wasted enough time already.”

  I obeyed, figuring I couldn’t refuse an ancient, and I was far too curious not to play along. I slid into the chair and laid my cuffed wrists on the table in front of me.

  The ancient’s silvery eyebrows curved, and he looked over at Tanaka, his eyes darkening in disappointment.

  “I’m sorry, my Lord. We couldn’t be sure she wouldn't just teleport away if we didn’t bind her.”

  Tanaka bowed and scurried forward, pulling keys from his pocket and rattling the chain far harder than was necessary. The cuffs clicked open, and I felt a rush of magic against my skin, as if a ward had just been lifted away. Tanaka straightened and pocketed the cuffs, I rubbed the tender skin at my wrists.

  I sent him a dark glare. “All you had to do was ask me.”

  Tanaka met my eyes, his cheerful smile toned down somewhat. “If I had told you that an ancient wished your attendance, would you really have listened and come with me?”

  Pausing, I opened my mouth to respond, then discovered I didn’t have an appropriate answer. I clamped my jaw shut, trying hard not to smile. “Point taken.”

  The room was silent now, so quiet that I could hear the air entering and leaving my nostrils.

  Long moments later, the ancient said, “I do apologize for the subterfuge in obtaining your attention.” I shrugged. “My name is Darius. And I need your help.”

  I sucked in a shocked breath as slowly as I could, positive now that I was dreaming.

  Darius smiled. “I know it’s a little hard to absorb, but I tracked you down a few days ago and have made every attempt to gain access to you, but something was blocking me.”

  I frowned. “My wards?”

  He shook his head. “Your white witch is powerful, but she can’t keep an ancient out.”

  Pasting on a polite smile, I found I felt a lot less comfortable knowing the ancients could come and go as they pleased—even into my home. And I couldn’t stop them.

  Ignoring his all-knowing words, I asked, “How may I help you?”

  He offered a short nod, “We’ve been looking for someone . . . for a long time. Centuries, if I were to be honest. And I believe we have finally found her.”

  “Me?” My heart slammed against my ribs, a strange amalgamation of fear and worry surging up into my throat, a drowning sensation I didn’t much enjoy.

  The corners of his mouth lifted in a soft smile. “No, my dear. The one we seek is of great danger to the existence of all the planes.”

  What did I have to do with it? I wanted to ask, but my gut said that impatience wouldn’t go down well with Darius.

  He got to his feet and began to pace, long sweeps back and forth in front of the glass window, the fabric of his pure white cloak swishing around his knees.

  The darkness beyond turned the glass into a mirror and and I watched his face as he stopped and turned to stare out at the Hong Kong night.

  His silver eyes, shining from the depths of his shadowed sockets, gave him a corpse-like appearance.

  How old was Darius, the Ancient?

  His voice broke through my thoughts. “Centuries ago a child was born, a child so filled with darkness that everyone, even the Immortals were afraid. They set a curse upon the soul, binding it so that it would die within years of its birth.

  “We lost track of this Black Soul until a few weeks ago. It began as blips on our radar. Our sorcerers are excellent trackers and they sensed the energy of the Dark One. I tracked it to Reykjavik a few weeks ago.”

  He stopped and watched my shocked gaze in the window’s reflection. “Samuel?” I asked softly. It simply isn’t possible. Samuel was my mentor and he had a heart of gold.

  “No,” Darius sighed and turned to face me, “but when he opened the way to access your mind, he allowed our trackers to see through the gap in the curtain of the Veil. The Dark one lives there, where Samuel is. If we could only access it through him we would, but we are well aware of his . . . health situation.”

  More than just a situation.

  “It could kill him. He’s barely holding on as it is,” I leaned forward on my seat, “What can I do to help you?”

  “Not a single thing until we solve your predicament.”

  Confusion clouded my mind. What was he talking about?

  He chuckled. “You are feeling well today, are you not?”

  Oh, that.

  I nodded stiffly, rubbing the spot on my wrist that had been chafed by my silver jewelry. “Yeah. Since I arrived in Hong Kong. I suspect it’s those wards I’m seeing everywhere I go. Is it Chinese magic?”

  As I spoke I scanned the room, nodding at the red symbols painted onto the walls on either side of the entrance to the room.

  Darius shook his head. “It’s ancient magic. A ward against the evil dead.”

  I let out a huff. “So it’s still with me?”

  He gave a sad smile. “Unfortunately, yes. The ward keeps it blocked. Almost as if it’s asleep. While you are within the wards, it won’t trouble you as much.”

  “Like a magical sedative?” I rubbed my forehead automatically, then paused. I didn’t have a headache. Not one caused by the tokolosje anyway. “What do I do to get rid of it?”

  “You need to find the one who put the spell on you.”

  I sighed and sat back. “Needle in a haystack.” I stared out at the skyline. “I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure out who it could be.” My voice was soft, almost as if I was speaking to myself, but I knew he’d heard me.

  “Perhaps the perpetrator is closer that you think.” His suggestion had my head snapping up so fast, the bones in my neck gave a loud crack.

  “You’re saying one of my friends did this to me?” My head grew hot and my ears began to ring.

  Darius raised a hand. “Hush, child. Remain calm.” After I took a few deep breaths, he returned to his seat. “What I am saying is . . . it could be a stranger, an enemy, or a friend. But finding the spellcaster is the key.”

  “This is African magic,” I shook my head, “I don’t even know anyone who performs such spells.”

  “You don’t have to know someone.”

  Defeated, I sighed and sat back. “So what happens when I find this person?”

  “Then we use his, or her, life to break the spell.”

  I stared aghast at the Ancient. “You mean we have to kill the one responsible?”

  Darius didn’t answer. He just watched me as my brain turned the whole problem over, looking for the solution.

  At last, I snapped my fingers. “We need their blood.” A short nod.

  “Which means we need to find them first, and contain them long enough to obtain some blood.”

  Another nod.

  “Is blood the only thing that will work?” He squinted at me. “What other biological samples could we use?” I asked.

  It only made sense since I tracked people using anything containing DNA, or even a micro sample of blood.

  I tracked their essence, found in abundance within living tissue, blood, hair, nails, and even bone marrow. Although, I usually steered clear of the last option.

  He sat forward, elbows on the tab
le now. “This is true. I do believe that any living part of the spellcaster will be sufficient to help break the curse.”

  I got to my feet. It was my turn to pace.

  Then I stopped as an idea hit me. “You have a plan?” asked Darius with a gentle smile.

  Do ancients read minds?

  I struggled to recall, but then put it aside and focused, “If I can discreetly obtain biological samples from each of the people I come in contact with on a regular basis, we can use that to rule them out at a time?”

  Darius was already nodding, looking at me the way a proud parent would a child prodigy.

  “I like your plan. Discrete. It will not destroy your relationships, and will allow you to eliminate the innocent without alerting the guilty party to your distrust.”

  I snorted. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound like the best of plans anymore.”

  Folding my arms, I stared at him. I was suffocating beneath an avalanche of crazy. What the hell was happening to my life, anyway?

  One moment I had a handful of regular problems, social or emotional shit, to deal with. Now there’s a Dark One—who sounded like deep trouble—and the impending total destruction of the world—even deeper trouble—on the line.

  And now I had to sneak around and steal blood and hair from my friends and loved ones, just so I could rule them out as the traitor who wants me dead.

  You just couldn’t make this shit up.

  Chapter 7

  Tanaka had delivered me back to my hotel with profuse apologies, his cheerful smile distinctly absent.

  He left me with his and Darius’s email addresses and cell numbers, as well as a drop location for the DNA samples I was meant to begin collecting them as soon as I got home.

  The kitsune had promised to also provide me with anything I needed; information, arms, backup and more.

  He’d left in a hurry, still subdued in the wake of Darius’s disapproval. Tanaka, with his departure, seemed to have taken my energy with him.

  Perhaps it was my adrenalin crashing, but I could do nothing other than crawl beneath the covers, my limbs telling me in no uncertain terms that I was done.