Mac snatched air in a quick, surprised breath. With glacial slowness he released her. "I used to be better at self-denial."
"What's happened to you?"
"My id got an upgrade." Then he grabbed for her knife hand faster than she could lash out. Hot before, now his touch was clammy as his fingers closed around her wrist. Holly tried to wrench free, but his grip was as strong as a vampire's. Feeling drained from her fingers, and the knife dropped from her hand, spinning under the table.
"Mac, don't do this! I don't want to have to hurt you!" Trapped against the counter, she stayed still as a hunted rabbit, but coiled her power inside, ready.
"You wouldn't."
"I would," she replied hoarsely, fear knotting her throat. "I don't want to, but I'll get the job done. I'm not as nice as you think."
"I'm not as bad as you think, either."
"Prove it."
For a long time Mac held his eyes closed, mastering himself. Holly's skin grew cold as the heat between them soured into a chill, damp terror. Finally he opened his eyes and released Holly's wrist. "There, you see?"
She wormed out from beneath him, edging down the side of the counter. His eyes were still wide and dark with need. She could see carnal desire trumping reason even as he spoke.
"Holly, admit you want me. We want each other. I can taste it." His lips curled back from his teeth as he leaned closer again.
She raised her hand to hold him back. "Perhaps," she said, "but I'm invoking my right to be coy."
"But I need you." His nostrils flared, an ember of temper flaring somewhere beneath layers of charm.
Goddess, I hate bad dates. The air in the house was growing heavy, the many amulets hidden in Holly's clothes humming against her skin, releasing their charge. Memories were flooding back: Mac sick, the ambulance, the hospital, the blonde in the red hoodie. She blocked my memories. There was nothing wrong with my magic at all!
"That demon got to you, didn't she? What did you call her? Jenny?"
"Geneva." His mouth twisted as he said it, as if the name were a delightful wound. "You'll come to know her when it's time. She wants me to take you to her, Holly. She made me strong to do her bidding. And through me she's tasted you. You'll bow to her when she calls. I did. I couldn't help myself."
Holly's heart seemed to judder with shock. He's Turned. This Geneva made him into a demon. I've failed him so badly. "So was that what the little shindig in the graveyard was all about? A retrieval team?"
"I tried force. Now I've tried persuasion."
"Try making yourself go away."
"You may be hard to catch, Holly, but I've kissed you."
"So? Do I need shots?"
Mac squeezed his eyes shut. "There's no vaccine against the Dark Larceny."
"What?" Fear and revulsion lurched in her gut.
"You'll forgive me," he said, casting a glance from under his long lashes. "Eventually."
Holly narrowed her eyes. "Not today, sweetheart." She jerked her hand, snapping the reservoir of her power into play. A searing burn ran up her spine as the magic surged through her body. She staggered, grabbing the counter.
Stay with it. The pain will pass.
The kitchen door flew open, slamming against the wall.
A shudder rattled the dishes in the cupboards and toppled a magazine from the table to the floor. Rain smell began to sweep away the odor of onions and cheese.
The atmosphere of the house began to concentrate around Mac, growing thicker, shimmering like oil. Pushing his hands through the thick, resistant air, he gaped wildly around him. "What's happening?"
Holly blinked hard, clearing her pain-blurred vision. "You're leaving. It's an old hex against unwanted suitors. The house still has it in its bag of tricks."
Mac looked stunned. "Your suitor? Who has suitors these days?"
Holly gave a lean smile. "You asked if I was available. You qualified for the free ride."
The air around Mac turned hard as glass, an invisible shield that pushed him toward the door. Arms flailing, he glided across the kitchen tile, his stockinged feet offering little resistance. He groped for purchase, grabbing at the handle of the fridge door, the cupboards, tipping over one of the chairs.
"What's happening to me?" he cried.
"Bye." Holly waved.
Inexorably Mac slid toward the open door. A whirlwind churned at the back entry, scattering a stack of old newspapers. Mac clutched at the door frame, arms and legs stiff with resistance. "Holly, help me! How do I stop what she's done to me?"
Pain. Desperation. Fear. In those words she had heard Mac the man. Shocked, she took a step forward. His cry rang with confusion, the shreds of a soul clinging to life. He'd said it. I'm not as bad as you think. Some part of him had not yet been devoured. But what can I do? It would take more than her pity to save him from Geneva.
He had stopped himself once, but that restraint had lasted mere seconds. If she let him back in the house, he was going to kill her, or worse.
The moment she realized it, the house's power peeled him away without mercy, tossing him over the side of the back deck.
The door slammed.
The locks turned.
The bolt shot tight.
A ragged scream. The garden would have its fun next. It wouldn't kill a demon, but it would make him darned reluctant to return.
Holly rushed to peer out the window. The backyard was clogged with shadows, the heavy rain bringing on an early dusk. Still, she could see it was empty. No Mac. Where did he go? Did he get away already? Is it the kiss that starts the Dark Larceny off and running?
The kitchen seemed suddenly gloomy and strange, as if the shadows had seeped in around her. What's going to happen to me now?
She flipped on the light, blinking as her eyes adjusted. I need help. We both need help.
Alessandro. She grabbed the phone and dialed his house, praying the early darkness meant he was up by now. It rang once. Twice.
"Hello? Caravelli residence."
The voice was sultry as a dirty martini, and clearly female. It struck Holly like a two-by-four to the gut.
Holly gaped at the phone. What the hell?
This was the hour when vampires were getting out of bed.
Who was Alessandro entertaining?
Chapter 23
"Give me that." Alessandro stormed into the room and wrenched the phone out of Omara's grip, not caring that she was his queen. "That's Holly's voice."
He had heard it from the next room. At the other end of the phone line. Vampire hearing, yes, but it was the sound that mattered most to his cold, dead heart. He would hear it if she called his name from the other side of the continent.
Omara laughed, letting go of the handset one second before it succumbed to their tug-of-war. "I think your little witch hung up. What, could she be jealous?"
Alessandro put the phone to his ear, but there was only a dial tone. He slammed the handset down, imagining Holly in her kitchen, staring at her own phone and thinking the worst of him.
After his visit to Sinsation, he had thought he and Holly had a measure of hope on their side. Now he could see there was a dark force working against even the smallest spark of sanity, and her name was Omara. An anger close to nausea rolled through his gut. "Why did you do that?"
"Do what? The phone rang; I picked it up. I was merely being courteous."
He flipped clammy hair out of his eyes. He had been drying off from the shower, and now wore only a pair of sweat-pants. "You don't merely do anything. You do nothing without cause."