Scarlet Heat (Born to Darkness) by Evangeline Anderson Page B

of supernatural creature has a
magical scent—completely different from the scent their bodies make,” Gwendolyn
explained. “So don’t worry, sweetie, I wasn’t trying to dis your man’s personal
hygiene. I was just saying his magic stinks—to me, anyway. I can tell he went
furry recently—smells kind of like wet dog.”
    Victor laughed. “Thanks. Real nice.”
    Gwendolyn shrugged. “I call them like I smell
them.” She looked at me more closely. “You know, witches aren’t the only ones
with a magical scent detector—it’s just more developed in us. A lot of the reason
why supernaturals don’t like each other has to do with scent—they smell
different, smell wrong to each other.
It’s hard to like someone who stinks, even if you don’t realize it on a
conscious level.”
    “She’s right.” Victor nodded. “That’s the reason
weres don’t like vamps—part of it, anyway.”
    I was horrified. “You mean we…we stink to you?” And here I had been laying
all over him when I was taking his blood. Had he been holding his breath the
entire time, trying not to smell me? When he told me I smelled good before, was
he lying?
    Victor must have seen the look on my face because
he reached over and grabbed my hand at once.
    “No, baby—it’s not like that. Not with you,” he
protested. “I mean, most vamps smell like the snake cage at the zoo. But not
you, you smell like…like…”
    “Like what?” I asked, pulling my hand away and
frowning at him. “You don’t have to lie to me, Victor. If you think I stink—”
    “You don’t
stink!” he growled, obviously frustrated. “You smell good— too Goddamned good.”
    I crossed my arms over my chest. “What is that supposed to mean?”
    “It means you smell like a female wolf. Like a
wolf going into—” He stopped abruptly and shook his head.
    “Go on.” Gwendolyn looked amused. “Finish your
sentence, big guy. This is getting interesting.”
    “We’re not here to talk about who stinks and who
doesn’t.” Victor’s eyes flashed gold with irritation. “We just want to know
what you can tell us about the fucking trap.”
    Gwendolyn spread her hands—she had bright silver
nail polish on with little designs drawn in gold.
    “Like I told you, that’s going to take a while.
There are spells I can do—identity spells, truth revealing spells—but they’re
not instantaneous. Magic— real magic—takes time. I can’t just wave my fairy wand and sing bibbity-bobbity-boo
or some shit like that.”
    “How long?” Victor asked tersely.
    Gwendolyn shrugged. “A couple of weeks at
least—maybe more.”
    “Fine. Call me when you know.” Victor rose to go
but Gwendolyn gave him a frown.
    “Not so fast, wolf. Aren’t you forgetting
something? Like the little matter of disposal and payment?”
    Victor sank back down. “All right, what do I owe
you? And what do you mean by disposal?”
    She nodded at the trap. “What I mean is that this thing is going to follow you and keep
popping up on your land and in your house unless someone who knows what they’re
doing gets rid of it.”
    “Ugh!” I exclaimed involuntarily. I couldn’t help
thinking of how the trap had reset itself and moved around the kitchen without
Victor or I seeing it, even though it was right in plain sight.
    “Ugh is right, sweetie,” Gwendolyn said calmly. “After
I finish testing it, this is going to have to go back to the Shadow Lands where
it came from—which means I have to go right to the edge myself. And that kind
of disposal doesn’t come cheap.”
    “Okay, we get it—the fucking thing is toxic. So
how much do you want to get rid of it?” Victor was clearly near the end of his
patience.
    Gwendolyn looked at me speculatively. “How long
have you been a vampire? It’s been under ten years, right?”
    I nodded, mystified. “Well, yeah. I was turned
about six years ago. Why?”
    “Because I’m casting a spell and I need blood
from a young vamp to make it