Blood of the Sorceress. Maggie Shayne

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      “I’ll get to it in a minute. First, if my asking doesn’t piss you off too much, why so morose?”

      Demetrius averted his eyes.

      “You look like your puppy just died.”

      “I don’t have a puppy.”

      A burst of air escaped Sid’s lips. “It’s an expression. You take everything so literally.” He hurried to the opposite chair and sat down. “You might feel better if you talked about what’s bothering you.”

      By the Gods, Demetrius thought, he’d made a huge mistake in telling this one to relax and be himself and not behave so formally. Sid was acting like a confidant and best friend, even an advisor.

      Then again, what harm would it do to share his restlessness with the boy? “I feel as if I am … missing something.”

      “Ahh.” Sid nodded slowly, eyes falling closed. “The love of a good woman.”

      “Oh, hell no.” He’d borrowed that phrase from Gus. It was one of his favorites.

      “A good man? But you already told me you play for Team Straight.”

      Demetrius rolled his eyes, laid his head back and ignored Sid’s attempts to draw him into humor. “I’ll try to explain, though I’m not entirely sure myself what’s making me feel this way. But … take last night for example. Everyone was raving about those steaks that Gus grilled for us.”

      “They really were amazing, God protect my heart from my love of red meat.” Sid crossed himself, then looked at Demetrius again and tipped his head to one side. “You didn’t like them?”

      “I didn’t see what there was to like. They tasted just like everything else. No better, no worse. As far as I can see, the only real variations in food are the differences in texture. Some is mushy, some is chewy, some is crisp, some is crumbly. But it all tastes the same. Some is a little bit sweet, some a little salty, but that’s about it.” He looked at Sid, saw the absolute disbelief in his eyes, the way his mouth gaped open. “Isn’t it?”

      Sid snapped his jaw shut. “No, boss. It isn’t.”

      Demetrius sat up, put his feet down on either side of the chaise and rubbed his chin. “And what about the sex?”

      Sid coughed, reached for Demetrius’s glass and helped himself to a sip of soda liberally spiked with vodka. He made a face. “Gawd, that’s strong. How many of these have you had?”

      “Six. And I feel nothing. No different. I’ve seen the way others react to large quantities of alcohol, but not me. I have a feeling this is all connected. So tell me about the sex, Sid. And be honest. What does it … what does it feel like?”

      Sid set the glass down, his face going completely serious. “Haven’t you had sex, boss?”

      “Numerous times. I should have asked, what is it supposed to feel like?”

      “Amazing. Incredible. Like nothing else can feel, so there’s nothing to compare it to. It’s like …” Sid searched his mind for a comparison, then snapped his fingers when he got one. “It’s like an earthquake in your crotch. A really good earthquake. Isn’t it like that for you?”

      “No earthquake. More like a bump, like hitting a pot hole in the limo.”

      “Oh.”

      “I wanted a life of sheer pleasure,” Demetrius said, thinking aloud. “But I’m beginning to think there’s a price to be paid for the gifts I’ve already received. I think I might be incapable of experiencing the pleasure all around me. It’s as if the curse lives on.”

      “The curse?” Sid got up. “Come on, Mr. D. There’s no curse.”

      “I know perfectly well Gus told you about me. Where I come from.”

      Sid was silent for a long moment, which never happened. Then at last he admitted, “He told me where you said you come from.”

      “I was imprisoned in a dimension of darkness and sensory deprivation. By whom, or for what crime, I have no idea. I had no form, no shape, no physicality. Only consciousness, endless consciousness. And the knowledge that one day I would escape—”

      “With the help of three witches,” Sid whispered.

      Demetrius nodded.

      “Frankly, sir, I thought Gus was a little crazy. Harmless crazy, but still, completely nuts, you know?” Sid drew a circle around one ear with a forefinger. “If you believe it, too, though—well, that scares me.”

      Demetrius searched Sid’s face. “Why would my insanity be any more frightening than Gus’s?”

      “’Cause you’re not Gus.” Sid shrugged and averted his eyes.

      Demetrius heaved a deep sigh and got to his feet, noticing that Sid took a step closer to the French doors that led back inside the mansion. “What was it you came to tell me?”

      “Oh. Right. Well, there’s a man who keeps calling. A priest.”

      Demetrius felt a frisson of fury race up his spine, and the thought that accompanied it was, I detest priests. But he didn’t know why he should feel that way. “What does he want?”

      “He refuses to tell me. Says he can only talk to you, but that he has information you need.” Sid shrugged. “I figure he’s going to try to save your soul and change your sinful ways, or maybe he’s just looking for a hefty donation. But he’s been so persistent that I finally took his number and promised to pass it along. I sent it to your smartphone.”

      “Thank you, Sid.”

      Sid sighed, started to go back inside, then hesitated. “You probably shouldn’t mention all that Underworld stuff, or the three witches or the rest of it to anyone, okay, boss?”

      “Gus told me much the same thing when were in New York. Don’t worry, Sid. I’ll keep it to myself from now on.”

      “Okay. Good. Later, boss.”

      “Later, Sid.”

      He sat there for a long moment, thinking. He wondered why he hated priests, and why one was trying to contact him now. He wondered where the third witch had gone after she’d flashed into existence in that alley—for that was surely who she had to be. He hadn’t been able to shake her from his mind since. He saw her every time he closed his eyes and in the face of every woman he bedded. She haunted his dreams, dancing exotically in ribbons of sheer fabric on the desert sands. Seducing him with her eyes. What did she have in store for him? And what was she waiting for?

      And now there was a new player in this game of his earthbound existence. A priest. Demetrius wondered what information the priest had for him and realized there was only one way to find out. So he took out his smartphone, a device that frankly amazed him with its capabilities, pulled up the text message Sid had sent and then called the number.

      When a male voice answered, deep and raspy, another inexplicable shiver crept СКАЧАТЬ