Primal Kill (The Order of Vampires #5)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

T he following days were spent resting, researching, and putting out fires—literally.

“Try it now,” Adriel yelled from the foot of the stairs.

Juniper released the pendant necklace over a sketched blueprint that crudely depicted the floorplan of Ruth’s house and concentrated, holding the chain in her fingers several inches above the paper. The pendant swung chaotically at first but then settled into a rhythm that pulled toward the drawing of the kitchen.

“It’s somewhere in the kitchen,” she yelled.

“Where? You have to be more specific.”

Juniper shuffled through her drawings, locating the one that included a layout of the counters and appliances. They had been practicing locator spells all morning.

Juniper had a hunch Dane left the farm, which would have been smart, but Adriel had concerns. Apparently, Dane and Juniper’s similarities didn’t stop at being half-breeds. He also had no family, money, or place to call home.

As soon as Juniper learned this, she insisted they find him. If he was still at the farm, they would leave him be. But if he wasn’t, he might need help.

Stationed on the second floor, utterly blind to what Adriel did below, Juniper had only her instincts to guide her through the spell. They spent the morning making a game of the practice. Somewhere in the house, Adriel hid a tiny crystal bird that belonged to Ruth, and then Juniper had to use her instincts to find it.

The pendant pulled toward the corner of the blueprint where the oven was drawn. Then it veered left. “It’s in the refrigerator!”

“Where in the refrigerator?”

This was the tricky part. Juniper shut her eyes and visualized the crystal bird. She recalled the weight of it in her hands and the smoothness of the glass. Various distracting thoughts tried to intrude, but she pushed them all away, allowing only intuition to guide her.

“The butter dish!” she yelled, jumping up from the floor to run to the steps in the hall. “It’s next to the butter dish!”

Adriel’s laughter validated her accuracy.

Racing footsteps moved swiftly through the house as Adriel bolted onto the second floor with immortal speed. She triumphantly held the crystal bird in her hand and smiled. “That was incredible! Your accuracy has improved greatly!”

Lowering back onto the hardwood floor with her legs crossed and her feet tucked under her knees, Juniper smiled. “The visions are coming easier now. I hardly had to put any effort into it that time.”

“Should we try something bigger?”

“Like what?”

Adriel chewed her lower lip, something Juniper often caught her doing when she had to make a decision. “What about me?”

It made sense to practice on a person since they were essentially trying to locate Dane. “Okay. But this time, I’m not using the pendant.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally. I think I know you well enough to trace your presence.” She studied Adriel one last time to be sure, memorizing every feature from her delicate elfin bone structure to the feathered cowlick of her short copper hair. “I’m ready.”

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the soft scent of her skin and the way her voice shifted from throaty to dulcet when she laughed and ran out of the room.

Juniper whispered the location spell, her brow pinched in concentration and her mind’s eye fully visualizing Adriel.

After finding a small bookshop selling occult books in town, she at least understood how these things worked. The texts were nowhere near as intense as the grimoire her aunts had owned— there was a lot of pop-culture nonsense—but Juniper knew enough to piece some spells together.

So far, so good. Confidence, she realized, played a large part in her success, so every time a spell worked, her power seemed to amplify.

But what they really needed was a computer. Ruth wasn’t wired for the internet, and Adriel generally viewed technology as unnecessary because, as an Amish female, she couldn’t fully grasp its abilities. Juniper was working on it.

“…ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one-hundred, ready or not, here I come!” Juniper channeled all of her energy toward Adriel and a sharp but painless zap of awareness buzzed through her.

She smiled, sensing Adriel smothering a laugh as she hid somewhere dark and cramped. The odorous hydrocarbon odor of mothballs blended with the woody scent of cedar when she closed her eyes. Where would she find mothballs and cedar?

“A closet!” But which one?

She sprung to her feet and rushed out the door. In her mind, she saw loose hangers and a wool coat. She had an idea and paused in the hall, which was essentially the center of the house. “ Veni ad me suaviter.”

A muffled clatter came from the den, followed by a startled shriek.

“Gotchya!” Juniper rushed down the steps, past Ruth, and wrenched open the closet. “I did it!”

“You cheated. The hat box fell on my head.” Adriel held out a pillbox hat that could have belonged to Jackie Onassis herself.

Juniper snatched the vintage accessory and perched it on Adriel’s head. “Lovely.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do I look ridiculous?”

“No. You look like you should wear hats more often. I can’t believe I made the box move.”

“I’m grateful it wasn’t a bowling bag.”

She pulled her out of the closet and glanced over her shoulder. “A few hours ago, you didn’t even know what a bowling ball was.”

“We’re both learning so much.”

They took a break to help Ruth make turkey sandwiches and decided to eat out back while the autumn weather held out. Adriel was incredibly kind and patient with the older woman, always asking if she needed anything or was warm enough.

Juniper liked Ruth but lacked Adriel's nurturing instincts. Perhaps she was that way because she was also older, or maybe it came from being a mother.

While the two women discussed the weather, Juniper thought of convincing arguments that might help her get online. If she had a phone or a computer—anything that gave her access to the Internet—she could find more witches and enhance her skills.

A trustworthy coven could teach her some basic skills. But it wasn’t like witches were broadcasting their existence for the world to see. Most still lived in the broom closet .

The following day, when Danny stopped by, Adriel sent him home without feeding. Juniper looked up from the newest book she studied and raised a brow. “Not hungry?”

Adriel shrugged. “It didn’t feel necessary.”

Juniper had reached a point of acceptance with Danny acting as a blood donor, but she was nowhere near the point of encouraging the act, so she didn’t mind when Adriel skipped a meal. But Adriel appeared withdrawn and preoccupied.

“This waiting game can get annoying. Not that I want him to find us. We’re far from ready. But some days, it feels like we’re just wasting time.”

Adriel turned her attention to the window, but Juniper kept talking. She’d been reading for days, and sometimes her brain needed a break. But no matter what she said, Adriel had little response.

“I guess that’s where the saying sitting ducks comes from. While we have this time, we need to use it wisely. I need to get online. There’s a store in town that sells phones. We would just need Ruth’s ID and some cash to set it up.” Still no response. “Or I could take a dune buggy to the moon, bang a few astronauts, and have a shopping spree on Mars.”

“It won’t be much longer.”

“Ade, are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry. What?” She turned away from the window .

“I said we could probably get a smartphone under Ruth’s name so our data use would be more discrete. That way the IP address wouldn’t be linked to the house.”

“I told you I don’t understand such things, June. What’s wrong with a library?”

“Libraries are limited, and there’s the risk of exposure. If we buy a smartphone, we’ll have everything we need at our fingertips.”

“What is everything?”

“Every book ever written, forums, community groups, search engines, videos, social media. The internet is an unfathomable web of information right in the palm of your hand.”

“A whole book?” she asked, voice full of skepticism.

“Not just a book. All of them. Millions.”

“That doesn’t seem possible.”

“Trust me, it is.”

Adriel chewed her plump lower lip. “I don’t know. I’m not comfortable taking money from Ruth.”

Juniper glanced over at Ruth, who slept silently in her chair. “I’ll never understand how you immortals pick and choose your ethics. We aren’t taking advantage of her if she offers. We could just ask her for the money and see that she got it back eventually.”

Adriel’s stare returned to the dark window.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?”

Her brows pulled together. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just hungry. ”

“So, get Danny back here.”

Her lips twisted and pursed. “No. I think I’m just nervous.”

She understood how anxiety was sometimes comforted with snacking. “What about a snack? Maybe something sweet or salty?”

Her green eyes turned upward. “I love tomatoes.”

She scrunched her nose. “Tomatoes? Not chips or chocolate or a cookie?”

“Well, I wouldn’t turn away a cookie, but I really love fresh tomatoes. I had an entire garden of them at home. I love the earthy way my fingers smell when I prune them. Maybe I’m just homesick.”

“I’ll add tomatoes to the grocery list.”

“The store-bought ones taste like pesticides.”

“You’re picky.”

“Maybe, but only because I’ve had better and see no reason to settle for less.”

Juniper smirked, liking when Adriel flashed that sort of queen energy. “It’s a shame all Ruth’s potted plants are dead.”

Glancing out the window, she sighed, her animated expression fading. “As good as a tomato sounds, I don’t think that’s what I want.”

“So, call Danny.”

She shook her head. “Last time I drank from him he…”

Juniper waited for her to finish. “He…?”

Adriel waved a hand. “You know. He…” She gestured toward her lap .

“Ohh! Ew! Seriously? ” Juniper gagged. “Is that normal?”

“Feeding can be quite erotic for males.”

“What about for the females?”

“I’ve never found it to equal the male experience.”

“So much for my theories that God’s a woman.”

“I’d argue she is not.”

Juniper curled her lip. “So, you guys just feel nothing while they…finish?”

“It’s not that we feel nothing . It’s complicated. And they don’t necessarily finish. But the urge is there. The males can get…rowdy.”

“Gross.”

Adriel’s soft laugh cleared the air. “Is the thought so repulsive to you?”

“I can handle blood. But the thought of drinking it…” She stuck out her tongue. “And something about letting some random dude grind into you while you feed—No, thank you.”

“You might be surprised by how much you enjoy it if you stop thinking of it like a mortal. Dane was a half-breed, and he developed quite the taste for it.”

“Dane’s a guy.”

“Most females love it as much as the males.”

“Do you?”

She looked away. “Not the way most do.”

“Well, maybe we’re alike in that department. I doubt I’m that sort of female.”

“You should lean more into your supernatural side. You might discover more than a taste for blood once you start feeding properly.”

“Don’t judge me.” Juniper rolled her eyes. “You’ve never even had a taco. How does someone live five hundred years without tacos? They’re little corn envelopes of heaven.”

She sighed. “Every time we have conversations like this, I become more aware of how sheltered I was on the farm.”

Juniper turned to a blank page in her notebook. “I’m going to keep a list of all the things you need to try. All the pleasant firsts you missed. Tacos are at the top.”

Adriel half smiled and turned her attention back to the window. Her despondency was starting to worry her. It was like watching a wild animal struggle to survive after too many years in captivity.

“Ade, talk to me.”

She sighed. “The sensory overload of this place is draining. The traffic never stops, and the constant drilling and hammering of construction wears on my nerves.”

Juniper frowned, hardly able to hear anything beyond the chirrup of the night bugs and the wind in the trees. She could only hear the soft chatter from the TV. They were basically in the country. “You must have really good hearing.”

“I’m not used to all this noise and stimulation. It’s making me feel…separated.”

“Separated from what?”

“I don’t know. My faith, maybe. ”

“Oh.” She struggled to understand how something so oppressive could be missed. “Maybe you just need sleep.”

“Perhaps.”

After the nightly news, Ruth went to bed, and Adriel followed. Left alone with her books, Juniper made a cup of tea and took advantage of the quiet time to study. She’d finished the first book on occult practices sometime after midnight and moved on to the thick book full of herbalist spells next. The subject matter was so interesting that she couldn’t put it down, and soon, the sun was peeking through the curtains again.

“Did you sleep?”

Juniper’s head lifted at Adriel’s voice, a guilty sense of embarrassment rushing through her as she noted the sun had come up. “Maybe?”

“Juniper, your body needs rest.”

“I know, but I got really into this book. Check this out.” She spun the book and turned the page. “Remember how you said there was magick in the gorges?”

“Yes.”

“You’re totally right. This explains how magick is basically divided into three groups—fundamental craft, intermediate alchemy, and high sorcery, which deal in both dark and light magick. Each sector is divided by the elements and then split into branches. For instance, high-air sorcery can manipulate the air through auras, gas, molecules, and weather energy. High-earth sorcery uses the strength of gravity and the earth's magnetic pull to lock structures into place. Water, however, is a thief of minerals and carries power from all over the globe. It’s a huge energy source, and I’m not talking about the kind we get from the electric company.”

Adriel blinked at her. “My brain hasn’t awakened enough for this conversation.”

Manic excitement had Juniper urgently explaining why this realization was so important. “It’s like kinetic energy, the kind you guys probably used for milling on the farm, but this is actual magick. Think about ice, snow, vapor, brine, poison, blood, steam—they all contain water. It’s an incredible carrier agent! And if I manipulate with water, I could probably manipulate blood.”

Adriel frowned. “I’m not following.”

Keeping in mind that most Amish women receive minimal formal education, she broke it down to the simplest terms. “Human blood is made of something like eighty percent water. I imagine an immortal’s blood is similar.”

“ Human blood and immortal blood functions very differently.”

“But you guys live off the stuff. Are you going to tell me there’s no water in your blood? We humans are hydrated by vegetables that absorb water from the earth. Our food is responsible for a lot of the water in our system. And if we’re your food source…” She held out her hands. “Do you get where I’m going with this?”

“You need to stop categorizing yourself as mortal. We don’t fully know what’s in your blood. And I wouldn’t know what’s in mine.”

“I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about immortals who drink blood. Adriel, they’re full of water and water is a powerful agent of magick. There are spells for controlling water. If I learn them, I can apply them to more than lakes and puddles. I can use that sort of magick on asshole exes who are basically flesh sacks of water, organs, and blood.”

“You can’t underestimate his power, Juniper. You’re far from a mage?—”

“I can do this. I know I can. I just need to do more research and understand the science. Remember how you sensed the energy of the gorges? That’s because, over time, the water charges with passing energy like a conductor of magick. It gathers sediment in the minerals, and minerals are full of power. The mist coming from those waterfalls could date back to the Paleozoic era. Dinosaurs, Adriel! Do you know what kind of power I could pull from something so ancient?”

“I don’t.”

She lifted the heavy text she’d been reading and shook the book at her. “Neither do I, but according to this, it’s a fucking lot.”

“I think you need sleep.”

“I think I need more books. I’m almost finished with this one, and I only have two small ones left to read. We need better resources.” She stacked the texts in a haphazard pile with her scattered notes. “I’m taking Ruth to town today so we can get a cell phone?—”

“June, we agreed?—”

“Amish time is over, Adriel. We need to look toward the future, and the future has Wi-Fi.”

“Juniper, consider how you got here. You’re young. Your magic is still developing. Think of what happened when you tried to cast a spell on Jonas.”

“That was different. I had no idea what I was doing. My aunt harnessed my power.” Which was why she had no clue how to reverse the spell on Jonas. “Water is a major element. My power can’t compare. If I learn to harness the energy of the gorges, I can practice my craft in ways my aunts never imagined. It’s an unlimited power source.” She could still sense her skepticism. “I’ll show you.”

Juniper removed a drinking glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. Setting it on the table, she opened her palms over it and whispered, “Celeriter cum sole per hanc aquam Mater Terrae opus est.”

Adriel stared at the cup, unimpressed. “And?”

“Come with me.” She led Adriel to the back porch where dried-up flower pots sat full of parched dirt and dead, shriveled vines. She dumped the water into a pot. “Now, we wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“You’ll see. It shouldn’t be long.”

Adriel rolled her eyes. “You need sleep.”

“Maybe. But I’m still right. ”

Adriel moved back inside and filled the kettle with water. In the time it took for the water to boil and the tea to steep, Juniper recorded more notes. Adriel gathered the trash from the bin and tied the bag.

“I suppose I’m the only one around here who knows how to empty the rubbish.”

“Huh?” Juniper hardly looked up from her notes as Adriel took out the trash.

The door snapped shut then quickly opened. “Juniper!”

Her head jerked up and, seeing the look on Adriel’s face, she rushed to the porch. A wide smile spreading across her face as she spotted the tiny, green sprout pushing through the soil.

“How did you do that? The plants were dead.”

“I told you!” Juniper laughed triumphantly. “Water magick is amazing!”

Adriel’s lips parted as she moved closer. “Impossible.”

“Not impossible. Magick.”

“It can work that quickly?”

“Faster even. This is why I need the internet. If I can find a seasoned witch, I can figure out the stuff not printed in books. We lost my aunt’s grimoire in the fire, but hers wasn’t the only one in existence.” She smiled and pointed at the planter. “Look.”

The sprout was now several inches tall and had slender green leaves. Adriel gasped and softly brushed her fingers over the delicate leaves, bringing them to her nose. Breathing in the strong, unique scent of the vine, she smiled. “It smells just like my gardens at home.”

“I told you I’d get you some tomatoes.”

Adriel looked at her with amused shock and laughed. “You are a witch.”

Juniper nodded. “Yeah, I fucking am.”