Reap the Wind (Cassandra Palmer 7)

But seiðr had. And after Mom put the spell on me and then forgot to mention it, I’d made a couple of random connections. One to Mircea, during that little episode in the shower, and one when I sat next to Jules, horrified and speechless and not knowing how to help him.

Until he told me.

On the plus side, de-aging him had gotten rid of the malicious spell, so that was something. But on the other . . . it had gotten rid of everything else, too. All the other spells, that was. Including the one that made him a vampire.

The guy who slowly raised his head, belatedly registering our existence, was still young, blond, and attractive.

But he was also very, very human.

Which I guess is why he flushed bright red as soon as his eyes fell on me. Well, that and the seiðr link that let him see me at all. I grabbed for my towel, thinking maybe it had come loose, but no. For once, I was actually decent.

And then I looked up—

Only to be tackled by a human dynamo who literally knocked me off my feet.

“Cassie!”

“Ow,” I said, because my back had just hit the wall, and despite the fact I wasn’t actually here, it had hurt. And so did the fingers sinking into my arms. And the rapid-fire shaking that commenced immediately thereafter until Mircea pulled him off.

“Cassie!” Jules said again, staring at me out of huge eyes and a flushed face and a weird-looking mouth that, well, frankly I didn’t know what that expression was, because he could love me or hate me right now, and both would be perfectly fair.

And then he burst into tears and grabbed for me again, and, okay, maybe he wasn’t mad? I still couldn’t tell. But I went into his arms anyway, ’cause if ever anybody looked like he needed a hug . . .

“They wouldn’t tell me—I asked and asked, and they wouldn’t tell me anything!” he said, drawing back. And grinning. And then crying some more, even while still grinning, and can you blame me for being confused?

“Are . . . you okay?” I eventually said, because I still wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know!” he told me. And laughed.

I looked at Mircea.

“We’ve been keeping him sedated,” Mircea said wryly. “But that sort of thing is hard on a human’s physiology.”

“Hear that? Hard on a human’s,” Jules repeated, his face filled with a strange mix of things, which kept making his mouth go all weird. Wonder and fear and elation and sorrow and joy and confusi

on—I finally realized that I didn’t know what he felt because he didn’t.

Which, yeah.

“So . . . you’re all right?” I repeated. “More or less?”

“More or less!” he said, shaking his head.

I decided that he really didn’t know, and that maybe I should find another question.

A vamp appeared in the doorway, one who actually looked like the stereotype: tall and gaunt, with creepy red eyes. And then just stood there until Mircea deigned to acknowledge his existence. “Yes, Lawrence?”

“Louis-Cesare has arrived, my lord. He wishes a word.”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Mircea told me.

They went off somewhere, and I sat down on the bed. I needed to go, too, to check out those cabinets and see if they held what I hoped they did, to finagle some Tears out of Mircea if so, and to get some sleep. But it was really hard with Jules’ shining face staring at me like that.

“When are we leaving?” he asked, grabbing a duffel from the end of the bed.

“What?”

“You’re taking me back with you. That’s why you came, isn’t it?”