Wicked Soul (Ancient Blood #1)(46)
Another shrug. “Make a couple poor fucking life choices. I owe him—he suggested this arrangement to work off my debt. Guess it could be worse. The vamper he bought my debt from was a nasty piece of work.”
I frowned as I considered this sliver of insight into Warin’s life. His “vampire life,” as I was starting to distinguish it. When he was with me, it wasn’t like I forgot what he was—the whole taking me out flying thing, or licking me down after ripping furry wolfmen apart, didn’t really leave much room for forgetting—but it just didn’t matter. At all. Didn’t matter he was a blood-drinking undead who apparently bought men’s debts and lorded over the city’s nightwalker population. And it didn’t matter that I was a serious fuckup with rampant commitment issues and more skeletons in my closet than most morticians.
When it was just the two of us, my past didn’t matter, and his undead-ness didn’t, either.
I had a sneaking suspicion that was why he liked spending time with me, too.
“What’s he like? To work for?” I asked, unable to rein in my curiosity.
Roy glanced at me out the corner of his eyes, and I held up a hand. “Not spying for him or anything—I’m just really curious. I haven’t really seen that part of his world yet.”
“Yet?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “D’you plan to?”
I grimaced. “Well, no. I’d rather not. But apparently there’s a thing, and I have to go because murderous skinwalkers and whatnot.”
Roy sighed. “I guess Mr. Waldlitch’s all right, for a vamper. Even provides dental and a pension fund. To be honest, I hardly ever see him. Up until he disappeared last summer, he stayed in his house most of the time, s’far as I know. And then you showed up.” He glanced at me again. “S’cuse me for saying, but you seem too smart to get mixed up with the undead.”
I shrugged. “Thanks? I’m not ‘getting mixed up with the undead,’ though. I’m just… hanging out with one.”
Roy shook his head, still keeping his eyes on the road, but he didn’t say anything.
I opened my mouth to ask him what he’d meant, but just then he swung the truck into the parking lot by my work, and I decided against it. Whatever his thoughts on girls who hung out with vampires, it didn’t matter to my friendship with Warin.
I did appreciate his concern, though. The instances of anyone caring about me had been few and far between for as far back as I could remember. Roy might not have said it in as many words, but I got the sense he worried for me and my involvement with his boss. Sad as it was, it made warmth bloom in my chest from sheer gratitude.
* * *
Raven was already there when I walked into the shop, Roy in tow, and so were a couple customers.
“Hey,” I said as I slipped behind the till. Behind me, Roy took up guard by the door, eying the two customers with suspicion. I grimaced, hoping he wouldn’t scare anyone away. Dennis was a pretty relaxed boss, but I doubted he’d look too favorably on my continued employment if my bodyguard scared away his source of income.
“Liv.” She nodded at me, then glanced at Roy from beneath her eyelashes—ensuring he wasn’t looking in our direction. “I’ve talked with my High Priestess. She’s agreed to meet with you. But, uh… there’s a catch.”
“A catch?” I arched an eyebrow at my colleague. “What sort of catch?”
“She wants to meet with you and the vampire. But only if you agree to, uh, have a spell placed on you. To ensure the safety of the coven.”
Something about the way she said “spell” made me narrow my eyes. “A spell?”
“It’s more of a curse,” she muttered.
“A curse?!” My outrage made the two customers and Roy look in our direction. I turned closer to Raven and lowered my voice, despite my temper. “Seriously? How’s that any better than dealing with skinwalkers on my lonesome?”
“It’s not like they show in the movies, Liv,” she sighed, though she at least had the decency to look somewhat guilty. “You won’t get hurt, as long as the vampire doesn’t harm our coven. I’m sorry, but it’s a non-negotiable. If you knew what his kind has done to us over the years, you’d understand why we need a safety precaution. We’d put it on him, but…”
“But?” I asked, arms folded across my chest.
“He’d never allow it.”
“That’s real nice,” I grumbled, but I guess I saw their point. Warin’s opinion on witches made it pretty clear he wasn’t about to offer some rando coven the chance to curse him. “What sort of curse?”
“It, uh… you won’t feel a thing as long as he doesn’t try to hurt any of us,” Raven said, avoiding my stare.
“And if he did?”
She grimaced. “You’d suffer. A lot. Look, I know it’s not exactly an ideal situation, but it’s really important, Liv. Those skinwalkers aren’t just causing trouble for you—if they get the vamps riled up enough, they’re going to exterminate all of us. We need a way to communicate with them, and… Well, you’re kind of the only one any of us knows who’s on friendly terms with one of them. We can help you, but we need your help in return.