Rush of Pleasure. Rhyannon Byrd

it’s foolish to take chances. You should make full use of its protection. Now lean down here so that I can reach you.” He shot a worried glance toward Will, who seemed to be enjoying his discomfort, then did as Jessie said and leaned forward a little. She lifted a small leather pouch dangling from a black cord and slipped it over his head. “If you’re smart,” she told him, “you’ll keep that on. It’s a special charm of mine that should prevent Calder from getting inside you.”

      Holy shit. Noah wondered if he looked as floored as he felt. “Can you give me some to send to my brothers?”

      “Of course.”

      He swallowed, and somehow managed to force out an awkward “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome,” she murmured, patting his shoulder in a gesture that was almost … comforting. “Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’m going to step back into my office. I need to have some time alone with these papers you’ve brought me.”

      Noah watched her glide from the room and shook his head, wondering if he’d slipped into some kind of alternate dimension. Rubbing his thumb over the strange pouch now hanging around his neck, he lifted it to his nose and sniffed. He could pick up traces of sandalwood and something … richer. Something strangely exotic. God only knew what it was, but at least it smelled good.

      “I must be out of my mind,” he whispered under his breath, cutting his gaze toward Will. “Am I crazy for thinking this thing might work?”

      “You should listen to her, Noah. Jessie’s an amazing woman.”

      His laugh was soft and rough. “It just seems kinda strange, putting faith in a woman who’s wearing a rabbit on her head.”

      Willow clucked her tongue. “Are you really that judgmental? Because you know what they say about people who live in glass houses …”

      He brushed that off with a grunt and turned toward her, locking her in his hooded stare. For one dangerous moment, he had to fight the driving impulse to reach out and pull her close, locking her against his body, as well. But somehow he fought it down. “What’s going on with Sienna?” he asked quietly. “You can talk to me, Will. I want to help.”

      “I … can’t. It’s too much.” Something tragic and aching flashed in her eyes, twisting his insides, as if the pain were his own. It was strange, how badly he wanted her to trust in him enough to share her secrets. There was no basis for the feeling. No logic, either.

      “Have you had any contact with her?”

      She shook her head. “I’ve been searching for her ever since she disappeared. That was late last year. But there’s been nothing. I’m starting to think she just doesn’t want to be found.” Her lower lip trembled with emotion, but she took a deep breath and hardened her expression. “After what you’ve told us, I guess I was right.”

      He wanted to ask more, but knew she wouldn’t give him the answers he wanted. Not yet. The creak of floorboards announced Jessie’s return, and she came back into the room with a somewhat stunned look on her face, her odd gaze settling on Willow for a charged moment, before moving to Noah. She still held the papers in her hand, but they now looked singed around the edges.

      “Have you ever asked yourself why that particular passage is written in a language that’s different from the rest of the journal?” The question was obviously rhetorical, since she didn’t wait for a response. “It’s because it’s a spell.”

      “A spell?” That wasn’t what he’d expected. “A spell for what?”

      “For a weapon.”

      Okay. That was more like it. “And it will kill the Death-Walkers?”

      She raised her brows. “From what I can tell, this spell will kill anything.”

      Whoa. He definitely hadn’t expected that. “What do you mean by anything?” he rasped, his eyes narrowed on her smiling face.

      “Mortal. Immortal. From heaven and hell and everything in between.”

      Noah’s pulse roared in his ears, his heart hammering so hard he was sure the two women would hear it. Yeah, he had the Marker he could use against Calder, but that meant getting close to the bastard. And getting close meant giving the Casus the chance to get inside him. If there was another way to kill him, he wanted it. Badly.

      “Can you write the spell down for me?” he asked, his voice sharp with excitement. “Is it one that can be used by anyone? Or do you need to be a witch?”

      Jessie held up one slender hand in a sign for him to slow down. “There’s something I need to tell you, and it’s going to be a bit … well, surprising.”

      Dread punched into his stomach with the force of a kick, knocking the air from his lungs. “What is it?”

      “I was able to translate the main catalyst for the spell.”

      “And?”

      She slid a quick look toward her niece, then said, “You’re going to need a virgin’s blood.”

      “Come again?” he rasped, while Willow started to choke and cough.

      “A virgin’s blood,” Jessie repeated, resuming her place in the rocker. “And not just any virgin’s. It must be from an adult warrior. Not human, but of the clans.”

      “Jesus Christ.” He took a deep breath and scrubbed his hand over his eyes. “This has to be some kind of sick joke.”

      “Come on, Noah.” Willow’s voice sounded odd, like a strange cross between horror and amusement. “You didn’t actually think it would be something easy, did you?”

      He scowled as he looked at her. “Easy, no. But a little sanity wouldn’t hurt. I mean, call me a pessimist, but I don’t think a nonhuman, adult, warrior virgin is going to be all that easy to find these days. Whoever came up with it must have had some screwed-up mind!”

      She shrugged, still looking as if she was struggling with her own reaction to the bizarre news. “The spell is obviously old magic, and virgins were considered sacred.”

      Sacred. Right. Not to mention extremely rare in the twenty-first century.

      God, he was tired of this war.

      Blowing out a rough breath, he said, “What exactly is the spell, Jessie?” He had a bad moment where he imagined himself lurking over a boiling cauldron, reenacting the scene with the witches from Macbeth, but Jessie just frowned.

      “I’m sorry, Noah, but I’m afraid that’s where my expertise ends.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “The passage is incredibly difficult, and I could only grasp bits and pieces. You’re going to need a demon to fully translate it.”

      “A demon?” Willow gave a low whistle. “Must be one helluva spell.”

      “This just keeps getting better and better,” he growled. “Where the hell am I going to find a demon?”

      “Hell would be a good place to start,” Jessie offered helpfully, as if she’d just suggested he run down to the corner store and grab a gallon of milk.

      Noah pinched the bridge of his nose and struggled for patience. “I know this might come as a shock to you, Jessie, but I don’t travel into hell all that often.”

      “Hmm.” She pursed her lips, lost in thought, then clapped her hands together. “You could try finding an earthbound demon.”

      An earthbound demon? Christ. Noah had heard of them. They were demons who had either escaped from hell and were now on the run, or who had been forced out for one reason or another. The hell dynamic was so complicated, he’d never gotten a good understanding of it when his mother had tried to explain the hierarchy to him. He’d never thought he’d need to … until now.