Kiss at Your Own Risk (29 page)

Nigel set him down, and Blaine’s legs did a smashing imitation of a wet noodle and dropped him on his rubbery ass on the grass. He could almost sense the witch’s magic, but he was too watered-down to pinpoint it. He focused on his soggy tattoo, and drove all his energy into it. Not even a flicker of smoke. “This is getting really aggravating.”

“Watch out,” Jarvis yelled. “Incoming.”

He looked up in time to see a schnoodie dive-bombing him, water claws bared. Brilliant. Another enema and he’d be dancing with Death pronto.

Nigel took it out a split second from Blaine’s face, and the sparks cascaded all over Blaine, burning his skin. Energy prickled through him, and he sucked in the fire, gaining enough strength to stagger to his feet. And then, thirty feet away, he picked up the tingling of black magic. “Two o’clock,” he yelled. “It’s closing!”

Nigel grabbed him and threw him over his shoulder, and Blaine shouted for Jarvis, who laid out hard after them. “More sparks. Now!”

Jarvis didn’t bother to ask questions. He unleashed his sword into the air. Blaine looked up to see dozens of schnoodies circling way up above them. Jarvis’s blade hit them all, like a pinball on caffeine. The sparks showered down and Blaine held out his arms, maximizing body surface area. The burns seared his skin and he fed the fire into his mark as Jarvis caught up.

“The leap of faith,” Nigel yelled, and then he dove, Jarvis right beside him.

Blaine’s skin burned, the sky darkened, and then they were in a long, brightly colored tunnel.

Nigel dropped Blaine, and his legs were solid and strong as they landed. He didn’t know how long the fire from the schnoodie funeral would sustain him, but it was enough for now.

Hot pink poison dotted the rainbow-colored walls, the air was heavy with the scent of death, and the roses lining the hall were thick and cloying with their aroma.

“Welcome back to hell,” Nigel said.

Jarvis held his sword at the ready. “If we don’t find the girl, we’re completely screwed.”

Blaine jammed his hand into a light fixture and grinned as the electrical shock burned the hair right off his arms. Smoke began to rise from his tattoo, and then it ignited. Hot damn. “Nothing like being electrocuted to wake a man up.”

“Trio.” Nigel’s voice echoed as they sprinted down the darkened corridor. “You still need to kill Trinity, you know. With love and kindness, of course, but she still has to die. You do her no favors if you let the witch take over her body.”

Blaine swore under his breath. He knew it was true. There was no way out unless Angelica was dead. Not for any of them.

Which meant the woman who loved him had to die, by his hand.

“How are my two favorite darlings?” Angelica rushed into the dungeon. She’d changed into clean jeans and a fitted T-shirt and redone her makeup, but her face was worried and her body language tense.

She strode over to Christian. “You’re doing well, I see. Another couple of minutes and it will all be over.” She sat down next to him and took his hand.

Christian narrowed his gaze, but didn’t try to get away. Didn’t speak. Didn’t react. Just gave her a hard, impassive look. The look of a warrior who gave away nothing, a man who was looking for an out, even down to the wire.

Despite her story, her truth that Blaine wasn’t coming, Christian hadn’t given up hope. On the contrary, he had revived even more, and he looked pissed right now.

Angelica patted his hand. “I want you to know, my dear, that I highly admire your courage and your strength, and I’m deeply saddened to have our relationship end, but you’re the only choice I have right now. I don’t have time to manufacture an experiment with a man who doesn’t matter.” She leaned over and kissed Christian’s forehead. “May love and sensitivity follow you wherever you go,” she whispered.

Christian’s skin turned silver and shifted into metal scales.

The witch leapt back. Her lips were blackened and burning. “And thank you for that reminder about exactly why the world needs to be protected from men like you!” She stalked off toward the far side of the room and began to fiddle with a sparkly sphere about the size of the disco ball at the Jamming Jive, except of course that it was black. Magic cauldron?

“Christian,” Trinity hissed.

He turned his head, and his face shifted back to regular skin. “Why should I trust anything you tell me?”

“But it’s true! She’s going to—” Trinity suddenly found her mouth full of grapes again. Okay, so not really going to be digging fruit after this.

“Quiet, my darlings.” Angelica turned toward them and her hands were black and sparkly. “I don’t like to be distracted.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Mari raced inside, still covered in the muddy clothes she’d been in earlier. “Smutty is all set in his safe house. No one will be able to find him.” She lifted her chin. “And I gave him four girl poodles to keep him company. He’s nice, and a man without an outlet is dangerous.”

Excellent. Not only was Smutty alive, but he was so well hidden that no one would find him, and he was having his way with the girls.
Sorry, Dad.

Irritation flashed in Angelica’s eyes. “Didn’t I tell you no poodles?”

Mari set her hands on her hips. “He’s carrying my smut,” she said. “I’m not going to make him suffer abstinence on top of that.”

“He’s a bastard.”

“Not to me.”

Well, hooray for Mari standing up for the smut monster. That’s exactly what she’d been hoping for right now. Like having Death champion Smutty’s long and healthy life hadn’t been enough. Add a well-stacked protector with all the same powers as the witch to the equation? Fantastic.

“Oh, for the sake of whiskers and spicy cologne, we don’t have time for this.” Angelica waved at a plush armchair between Trinity and Christian’s beds. “Sit.”

Mari got a smug look on her face, like she’d just won a battle, and she sauntered toward the chair. Then she saw Christian strapped down, and her face paled. “What’s going on?”

“I’m going to give you a gift.”

Mari’s face brightened and she whirled toward the witch. “I knew he was worthy! You’re going to let us get married?”

Christian started gagging and had to roll over to get his breath back.

“Lovely, Christian,” Angelica said dryly. “After all I’ve taught you, that’s your stereotypical, commitment-phobic male reaction? Nice.”

Mari patted Christian’s back. “I said I was sorry, baby,” she whispered. “She promised you wouldn’t get hurt. You know I love you.”

Christian went scaly and she jerked her hand back just before his back turned to metal right where she was touching him.

“Oh, come on,” she protested. “I truly thought telling the witch about your escape was the best thing. I swear I didn’t know—”

“Enough!” Angelica walked over to the door, slid the dead bolt, and flicked her hand at it. The door turned black and began to glow, and the faint scent of lemon began to fill the room. “Christian isn’t the gift. I’m giving you power to never get hurt by a man again. Never again will you reach out for a man and have the testosterone factory reject your love and turn scaly on you.”

“Well…” Mari glanced at Christian. “It would be nice if he could be a little more understanding. I mean, it’s not like I meant to hurt him.”

Christian gave her a lethal look.

Mari turned away and looked at Angelica. “Is it going to cause him pain?”

“For heaven’s sake, Mari, the fact you can even ask that question is more evidence of why you need this gift. Sit.”

Mari hesitated, and for an instant, Trinity thought she was going to resist.
Just say no, Mari!

And then she sat between them.

The chair immediately wrapped around her body, trapping her in place. Mari sucked in her breath. “What are you doing?”

“It might hurt a bit, and I just want to make sure you don’t move.” Angelica smiled, and her eyes were glowing with delight. “This is so brilliant, Mari. We’re going to be so rich off this. Free. Independent.”

Mari looked a little more interested. “How rich?”

“Monumentally rich.” Angelica held up a small glass vial. “And Trinity is carrying it for us.”

Trinity tensed as Angelica turned toward her. She spat out the grapes, and this time no new ones showed up. “Blaine will kill you if you hurt me.”

Angelica snorted. “Blaine’s dead. You killed him.”

“No, he’s not. I’d know it if he was.” But she knew he was. She was just talking stupid smack… but whoa… wait a minute… If he really was dead, wouldn’t she be crazy murder woman? She didn’t feel any different than she had before. Oh, wow! She hadn’t thought of that! “Of course he’s alive.” She felt jubilant. “I’m not a crazy killer, which means I didn’t perform my last death. He’s coming, and together we’re going to kill you and—”

The grapes filled her mouth again, and Trinity started frantically spitting out the little green balls.

“First of all,” Angelica picked up a tulip made out of copper or something equally burnished, “you better hope no one kills me, because then I become you, and you lose your pretty little soul to me.”

Trinity tensed as Mari scowled. “She’s your Chosen? I thought I was!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Angelica snapped. “I need you in your own brain. If I take over your body, who becomes my right hand? Please.”

Uh, oh. That sounded like she meant it. Total bummer to learn that Blaine had been telling the truth about that little story.

“And as for your very charming hope that you didn’t trigger the curse with your assault of Blaine,” Angelica said to Trinity, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to deflate that little bubble.” She set the copper charm on Trinity’s palm.

Trinity instantly threw it onto the floor, and Angelica clapped with delight as she retrieved it. “I’m so proud of your spirit, my dear. I knew you’d be strong enough to survive the curse and take it to full maturity. You were such a good choice, and I so admire your strength.” Then she slapped the tulip in Trinity’s palm and forced her hand shut. “We’ll make a great team.”

Trinity’s hand began to grow warm, and she fought to uncurl her fingers, but they were locked. Out of her control. Panic began to build in her chest. She hated that feeling of being out of control. Of not having the ability to stop herself. “Get it off me!”

“No.” Angelica propped her chin up on her hands and gazed at her. “So, if you’ve truly triggered the curse, then this little charm is going to have a serious effect on you. If you’re right, that you didn’t kill Blaine, then it’ll do nothing.” She raised her brows. “How does it feel?

Tingling began crawling up her arm, exactly like how her skin felt when the curse was taking over her. Except it was much more intense. Almost painful. Like a thousand bugs with spiked heels dancing along her skin. “I can’t feel anything,” she managed. “Seems fine to me.” She grinned, fighting not to show her pain. “Blaine’s coming for you, and I’m going to help him take you out.”

“And then I become you.” Angelica shrugged. “You’re a little saggy, but I can whip that body into shape in no time.”

It felt like a million spiders beneath her skin, crawling right toward her heart. Up her biceps, an insidious approach.

Angelica leaned on the table and stroked Trinity’s hair. “I’m going to take the curse out.”

“Really?” As good as that sounded, Trinity had a bad feeling that she wasn’t going to be spared quite that easily. “You’re going to remove the curse? So I’ll be normal again?”

Angelica laughed. “No, my dear, you’ll be blessed with the curse forever. I’m just going to extract some of it, toss it in my mixer over there—” She pointed at the big black disco ball. “Do a little shake ’n’ stir and then start handing it out. First to Mari, and then to the others.” She smiled. “Thanks to you and your ability to survive this long, all the women of this planet are about to get a wonderful gift.”

“You think they
want
to be infected?” Trinity snorted. “You’re insane.”

Angelica rolled her eyes. “If I had a testicle for every time someone said that to me, I’d have to buy stock in the
Nutcracker
.”

The creepy crawlies hit Trinity’s right shoulder and began to move over her chest. Toward her heart. She coughed, felt her body heat begin to rise, the room begin to brighten. Shit! Angelica was trying to trigger the widow on command.

You can fight this, Trinity.
She had to. There was no way she could let this out into the world, to infect other women, kill men, so many innocents. She fisted her hands, willing every bit of strength she had to fight the agonizing march toward her heart. But it kept coming.

Angelica chuckled softly. “It’s exactly what I thought might happen,” she said. “The widow’s about to come to life, and it’s no longer about love. She’s a little trigger happy. I’m afraid you’re not going to be allowed to walk free any longer, my love. You’re a danger to—”

The blackness hit Trinity in the chest and she screamed, and she knew she was lost.

***

Damn water claw. Blaine was already starting to fade again when they rounded the corner and saw the wall of silver flames.

Jarvis and Nigel stopped, and Blaine splooshed to a slightly damp halt. He grinned. “I gotta say, I had no idea Angelica was that thoughtful. Leaving me presents.”

Jarvis flicked his sword at it. “Take it down, Trio.”

“The things I do for you guys.” Blaine leapt straight into the fire and the silver flames toasted him up like a marshmallow in hot lava. His hair caught fire, his clothes melted, and his skin began to bubble.

And it felt fantastic. “This is better than when I get my new cross-stitching floss in the mail.” He opened his pores and drank the fire in, so digging the feel of it making his blood boil, of it turning his cells to charcoal and his internal organs to ash. “This is what it’s supposed to be like.”

The fire wall began to fade, disappearing into his body. All dampness was gone, and his body felt dry and crackly. His tattoo was burning, and he knew he was good for a while. Silver flames were as hot as it got, and it felt great. Yeah, maybe he couldn’t generate fire anymore, but he sure as hell could harvest it. Nothing like a feast of fire to stave off impending death.

Nigel raised his brows. “Better than a woman’s body and a king-sized bed?”

Blaine thought of Trinity, and he scowled. “No chance.”

“Let’s go—” Jarvis was interrupted when a man burst out of the shadows and raced past them, disappearing down the tunnel before any of them had time to react. “Who the hell was that?”

Blaine would recognize that expensive cologne anywhere. “Napoleon. Angelica’s ex.”

“Well, damn, let’s hope he’s still on our side.” Jarvis broke into a dead sprint, and the three of them laid out down the passageway, deeper and deeper into the lair that had nearly broken them so many times.

They hit the next corner and saw Napoleon strung up on the ceiling. He was dangling from a net of dirty athletic socks and men’s underwear.

“Hey, that one’s mine.” Nigel leapt up and snagged a pair of boxer briefs that had a meadow scene painted on the fly. “I always wondered why my clothes disappeared whenever they got nice and ripe. You okay, man?”

Napoleon was beaming. “Is this not the most impressive booby trap ever? A thousand male undergarments so magicked even I can’t get out?”

Blaine caught a stench that reminded him of the gym on a really, really hot day. “Yeah, brilliant.”

“I taught her everything she knows.” Napoleon took a deep breath. “I swear this stench would be enough to knock me out if I didn’t have this jockstrap around my neck cutting off my air.”

Jarvis raised his sword to cut it, then hesitated. “You still want to kill her?”

“Oh, no.” Napoleon’s grin vanished. “I don’t want to harm her. I just wanted to toy with her smut monster so she came to my bed. I’m enjoying the chase. Very fun.” Then his face grew darker. “You men touch one nipple on her body and I’ll destroy you. I’m very good at it.”

“No chance you can hurt us.” Jarvis sheathed his sword. “Well, have fun hanging there.”

“Yeah, let’s leave him,” Nigel said. “He’s going to get in the way.”

Napoleon studied them. “You mean to cause harm to Angelica.”

“Yep.” Blaine saluted him. “Have a nice day.”

He and the others took off down the hall, as a thick smoke began to swirl around the black witch. “Taking bets on how long until he gets out.”

“Five minutes,” Jarvis said. “If that. If he taught Angelica, he’ll figure out her spell pretty fast.”

“Then let’s haul ass—”

Someone screamed and all the hairs on Blaine’s arms stood up at the bloodcurdling sound that sounded like an invasion of demon-tainted blood suckers closing down on their prey.

Nigel’s blades burst out of his fingers. “That sounds much worse than schnoodies.”