Antique Instincts Book Four

By Odette C. Bell

Everything has to end, right? From trouble, to stories, to the world, apparently.
If Sonia can’t cut through the Devil’s plan, she won’t just lose the city – she’ll lose Rushford.
Never have the stakes been higher. But never has her power been greater. Sonia knows how to dig deep, right through her heart, if she must.
She’ll fight until the end. She’ll even battle the Devil, and regardless of his power and bitter intentions, she’ll be ready.
Will he?
...
A light-romance urban fantasy, Antique Instincts follows a plucky witch fighting to win back the heart of her one true love. If you crave your urban fantasy with charm, danger, and a dash of romance, grab Antique Instincts Book Four and soar free with an Odette C. Bell series today.
Antique Instincts is the 5th Your True Vampire series. In a world where vampires know their true love at first sight, love brings trouble. Packed with action, wit, humor, and a dash of romance, you can read them separately, so plunge in today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Odette C. Bell
• Release date: Jan 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005399771

Book preview

Chapter 1

Sonia landed down in her store. She expected Rushford to stay with her, but he didn’t. As soon as they escaped, it was like somebody flicked their fingers in front of his face and turned him off like a robot. He slid down onto the dusty floorboards.

Rushford, she screamed.

She immediately heard hurtling footfall. Bethany streaked into view. She looked pale already, frankly, but as soon as she saw Rushford on death’s door – or further – it looked like she’d lost all of her blood.

What happened? You didn’t let him get killed, did you? Because if you did, everything is over, Bethany spat. Her lips wouldn’t move right, nor would her cheeks, nor would her neck. Her whole body was crumpled in on itself, this knot of fear and tension.

He was attacked by demons, Sonia said, spluttering through every word until she shook like crazy.

Her one true mate was right there, right in front of her, possibly taking his last breath. And what the Hell could she do?

Store? Store? she spluttered.

She thought the pen would race up out of her pocket, but it didn’t. The dust came to her aid, instead. It picked itself up off every single shelf, off every single magical item, and even out of the air. It shot toward her. It formed words right in front of her face. He needs immediate medical attention.

Sonia lifted her fingers, ready to create a portal. Then I’ll take him to the hospital.

The Devil will be waiting, her store pointed out.

Then what do I do? she asked desperately. She didn’t think she’d ever spoken like this. Spoken like she was carving the words out of her heart. If they didn’t find Rushford medical attention soon, then….

Her eyes scissored back to him, her brow compressing. She couldn’t see this. Couldn’t watch as Bethany crumpled over Rushford, shook his shoulders, then cried once. Sonia knew there was no love lost between them. But that wasn’t the point. Bethany had now made it clear that she needed Rushford. Without him, everything she’d ever worked for would be for naught.

She still had to have some compassion for the man. That would account for the fact that another tear streaked down her cheek and splashed onto his gaunt face.

Do something, Bethany suddenly snarled at Sonia. You did this to him.

Sonia could’ve come to her own defense, but there was no point. There was also no point in standing there uselessly, staring at the two of them, mind like an empty desert plain.

What could she do?

Rely on her dust, give in to her store, and walk side-by-side with it, just as she’d already promised to do.

Her dust shot off. It looked at her over its shoulder, not of course that it had one, indicating she should follow.

She raced off after it. She shouldn’t race. She was covered in blood – and mostly it was her own. She’d been through Hell, remember? Or at least the baby version thereof. She could count her injuries. It would take a long time, however, and she would need quite a few pads of paper to track them all.

What are we doing? She pushed on faster after the dust, following it through the winding stacks until they reached the second floor.

There was technically some important stuff up here. But none of that would help him. There was magical paraphernalia that usually appealed to collectors. Lamps that would stay on when you wanted them to stay on, for they had a mental connection to you a little bit like a modern lamp might have a Wi-Fi connection to a user’s phone. Then there were couches, beds, and other pieces of furniture. All had their own little magical quirks. And not a single one of them would be useful right now.

You need to access one of the secret rooms. There is a clinic in this antique store.

There is? Her brow twitched down. She shook her head. Open it for me, then.

I cannot. You must open it yourself.

I don’t have time for this, she spluttered, knowing every single second that was wasted was a second Rushford would never get back. He’s on death’s door, dammit. Do something.

You must open the door yourself.

This is no time to test me. Because we have no time at all. Rushford—

Sonia stiffened when she thought she heard Bethany screaming from below. Either it was for help, or a lament because Rushford had finally succumbed.

We would open this door for you if we could. But we can’t. It is not about proving yourself. It is about sufficiently connecting to the store to share your magic. We cannot access it without you. You are our master now. You must show us the way.

Sonia didn’t understand how any of this worked. She also didn’t have the time to sort through it. The store would not be playing around with her. She trusted it now implicitly. So if it didn’t have the power to open the door, it didn’t have the power. Sonia fell down to her knees. It was not a moment of surrender. She placed her shaking hands on her stomach and chest. She breathed, fruitlessly trying to calm her mind. It was like attempting to waggle your finger at an unruly gale and getting it to turn down its rage.

It wouldn’t work. It shouldn’t work. But desperation is a funny thing, especially when it is combined with the undiluted will to save someone.

Her mind focused, sharpened, pushed down into her body, and shoved away every other distraction.

I give you my power, she said, spreading her arms out wide, lifting them higher toward the ceiling. Take as much as you want. Please.

You need to locate the room, too.

Sonia opened her lips to object. Surely this was enough? It was torture getting her to do more. She had to get back down to Rushford to check that he was alive. And if he wasn’t… she needed to cry over his corpse. This terrible situation had taken so much from her. The least it could do was give her this. But here’s the thing. The situation wasn’t designed to give her anything. It was designed to release only what she was brave enough to take.

She concentrated harder on her breath, using it now like a searching torch beam. She didn’t demand that the store tell her where the door was. She connected to it through every mote of dust, through every floorboard, and through every single object in the room.

She couldn’t feel a door in this room – other than the ones that were already well known to her. But there had to be one.

The mind can be a funny thing. Sometimes it’s a repository. Sometimes it’s the exact opposite – a sponge that has been bled dry as every single thought and belief you used to have is swallowed away by age and time. Sometimes, however, the mind is a path. A little track that invites you to follow it, somewhat like a mini destiny itself. Every belief that you have ever validated, every path you have ever walked upon – they all sum to create a corridor of consciousness. Follow it, learn to follow it without distraction, and who knows where it might take you?

Sonia followed her own mind now. Once upon a time, she would’ve thought that was a fruitless task. For what a pathetic individual she’d been, right? Incapable of saving herself when it mattered most, incapable of finding her own direction in life, and incapable, when she had it, of making a difference.

Sonia saw now what she’d probably recognized back then but had been too angry to accept.

Life has its ups and downs. You will be weak one day. You might be strong the next. But there is no guarantee that strength will follow again. So you will have to build another strength in its wake. Not the power of muscles. Not the force of money and privilege. But the force of continuity. A mind that always takes another breath, that thinks another thought, that hammers down another belief.

Such continuity under hardship is true power. And in true power lies real magic.

Sonia settled into her own weakness, finally accepting it for what it was – a permanent aspect of her life and a fundamental tenet of the human condition – and she started to feel the shop in a different way. It was… so much larger than she’d previously thought. Back in the second lab when she’d fought Harley's monster, she’d done something similar. She’d connected to what felt like a blueprint of this place. But it had been smaller then, the corridors narrower, the rooms much tamer. Now it felt… as if it was so large it was a city of its own. There were so many rooms, so many damn rooms, you could explore them for the rest of your days. Each single one of them was filled with magical objects the likes of which modern life had mostly forgotten.

It wasn’t the objects she needed. It was… there.

Sonia burst up onto her feet like someone appearing on stage in a swirl of smoke. She could feel the doorway. It was just to her left. She rolled right over the back of a couch, landed with a thump, and reached the correct section of wall. And she practically buried her hands down in the old wood. She concentrated until her teeth ground back and forth. Open, she said. She did not repeat herself. With her fingers splaying over the wood, a few splinters picking up and piercing her flesh, she gave it all of her magic. And the store took it.

Energy swirled around her. It suddenly pushed up a meter above, then twisted around and plunged into the wall. She heard a door being created. It was just as Bethany let out another lamenting cry below. Sonia had to keep telling herself that she wasn’t too late. Even if… even if Rushford had died, this clinic would be unlike any modern medical facility. It would have access to truly old and truly powerful medicaments. And they would be enough. Because Sonia would make them enough. She was not going to lose her true mate today. With one last guttural cry, the door opened. And there in front of Sonia she saw a clinic. It was rather old school. It even had a white nurse’s uniform with a little hat and a cross on the top next to the door. Critically, there was a medical bed, and there were cupboards upon cupboards of glass cases full of potions.

Bethany, Sonia roared, about to tell her to bring Rushford. But there would be a better way.

Sonia clicked her fingers. Most of the dust broke away and shot down the stairs. In a matter of seconds, Rushford appeared, carried on the demon spell.

Bethany was standing behind him, her face streaked with tears and pale from weakness. What? Her gaze darted to the side, and she stared through the open door. You had a clinic all along?

Apparently, Sonia said. Come. Though I imagine the store knows what it needs to do, you’re the real scientist here.

Bethany soon picked herself up properly and threw herself in after Rushford’s floating form. Sonia didn’t want to look at him. She couldn’t help herself. Her true-mate response kindled in her heart, forcing her to lock her attention on him. He was… not dead. That was the first thing that came out and snapped at her attention like somebody cracking a dry twig right under her nose. But he could be dead very soon unless he received the medical attention he so desperately needed.

On the bed, Sonia instructed like she was a seasoned doctor. She did not, however, rush over and put the nurse’s outfit on. That was until a few specks of dust shot over, paused in front of her face, and formed an arrow pointing toward it.

Sonia shook her head. I’m not a nurse.

That should go without saying. But the dust reformed and created words. The nurse’s outfit comes with a nurse’s personality and knowledge. You will know what to do.

… Sonia did not know what that meant, but she was running out of time. Bethany had pulled herself together to get in here, but she was still shaking. Sonia could appreciate why. She’d pretty much lost her true mate today, too. And now she was about to lose her legal husband – the only man who could ever make her lifelong struggles worthwhile. She just stared at Rushford, cheeks pale, shoulders shaking, mind about as responsive as a computer that had been hit by a meteorite then thrown in ice.

Sonia quickly dressed in the nurse’s outfit, though she didn’t bother to pull off the rest of her clothes. As soon as she yanked that white dress over her neck, it squeezed itself down over her body, taking her measurements and expanding until it was just right.

She stared down at herself then up at the hat. Blinking, she thrust it onto her head. And that’s where pointless blinking stopped. She felt… like she knew exactly what to do. Information – and critically a cool and calm demeanor under stress – flowed through her.

She snapped over to one of the cupboards, opened it quickly, and grabbed up the correct potions – one red and one so deep blue, it belonged in a tropical ocean. She thrust over to Rushford, never missing one step, uncorking the bottles by the time she got to him. She placed one hand on his frozen bare chest. She could feel his heart weakly beating beneath her palm. Time to wake it up.

She went for the red potion first, gently parting his lips and pouring it down.

It did nothing. She didn’t freak out. It was just a prepping potion. The blue one would seal the deal.

Bethany suddenly roused enough to splutter. Do you even know what you’re doing? You can’t keep pouring potions down his throat if you don’t know what they are—

Sonia didn’t bother to say a word and rather brought up a finger in a strict motion.

Gently, she returned her attention to Rushford, and, tipping his neck back slowly, she poured the blue potion down his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open. It happened in a gush like the wind blasting open a previously closed door. Then they fluttered closed once more.

It gave Bethany hope, and she lurched over. Rushford? Rushford? You’re not about to go back on our vow, are you? You told me that if I married you, we’d finally find a cure. Rushford? She played with her rings, moving them around and around her fingers, pulling them off, holding them, and occasionally dropping them to the floor with clangs.

It wasn’t helping. But Sonia had this in the bag.

Now she’d made Rushford respond, she knew she was on the right path.

She freely gave in to the nurse costume. It wasn’t her knowledge, and she was aware of that. She also knew it wouldn’t last. The second she took off this ridiculous costume would be the second she returned to knowing nothing whatsoever about medicine.

She went with it. She worked in a flurry, gathering up more potions, even seeing to his injuries. It took a good half hour. Sonia was so thankful for the calm personality that came along with this outfit. On the inside, she was freaking out, recoiling, trying to draw back into the confines of her mind so she could protect herself from the distress of seeing Rushford like this. But on the outside, she never missed a beat.

After half an hour, Rushford’s eyes finally opened, and this time it felt as if they were opening for good.

Sonia had found Bethany a chair and commanded her to sit. She was not just distraught – she’d clearly used a lot of magic trying to save