One of the things my aunts had emphasized was to listen to my gut. They said now that I knew my history, and had used some of my witch skills, the more I used them, the more they’d grow. Intuition—known as gut instinct—was part of that.
Following my gut, I made the pie, and brought it into work. I cut it into eighths, and waited to see what happened. I couldn’t say how I knew something would happen, but I just did. It was my second official day of business. Which is when a call—the call I mentioned earlier—the one that started the road to Hell—came in from my past.
I had no idea as I answered the phone what was coming. Honestly, I was still focused on what the hell the pie and baking urge was all about. “Hello, Holliday Private Investigations, this is Deana, how can I help you?”
A silence and then, “Deana? It’s Kel.”
I nearly dropped the phone. Kel, formally known as Kelsey Grayson Worthington, was the best friend of my late fiancé, Derek Sinnful (Yes. He really did legally change his name). Derek was the lead singer in Copernicus, and Kel was the drummer. Before Derek died, they were on their way. Since then, they’d gone in a different direction.
So had I. I’d built a lot on being the future Mrs. Sinnful, and it was hard to let go of that. But I’d had to. Derek was gone. I’d lost him.
Derek had been out on a new bike, testing it up in Franklin Canyon park, and someone had hit him, and left him for dead. He hadn’t been found until later in the evening. I’d been the one to find him. The cops wouldn’t go looking for him, not deeming six hours long enough to be concerned. But I knew something was wrong. I’d known for five of the six hours since he’d left.
I’d just ignored it, telling myself I was worrying too much.
It was because of Derek I’d ended up with my PI license. I wanted to find out who had hit him. So far, nearly three years later, I hadn’t. There were no cameras, or any way to trace who’d been in the park that day.
“Kel. It’s been a long time. What’s up?” I kept my tone level. It was hard. I’d seen Kel every day of my life while Derek and I had been together. He was like family. But after Derek died—everyone fell apart, rather than coming together. Kel and me particularly. I had a particularly large beef with him, but I’d wait to see if I needed to bring that out.
“What kind of investigations do you do?” There was something off in his voice.
“All kinds. What are you looking for?”
His voice lowered to nearly a whisper. “Can I come and see you?”
“Sure. Are you okay?”
“No,” he said and hung up.
I sat back in my chair, the thread of worry that had begun when I heard his voice sprouting to full-on worry. I wouldn’t have long to wait. He’d be here soon, if he still lived where he had when we’d been friends.
Thirty minutes later, the door swung open, the soft chime I’d installed ringing. Kel came in. He looked at me, and then smiled. “Hey, Dee, how are you?”
I got up and came from around the desk to shake his hand. I wasn’t up for a hug. “I’m good.”
“This is good to see,” he said, gesturing around at my office. “Hey, is that cherry pie?”
Well, isn’t this interesting. “It is,” I agreed. “But let’s not waste time. What’s up? You sounded horrible. Have some pie and tell me about it.”
He sighed, the smile dropping from his face. He walked to my buffet table where I kept the coffee and today, the pie, put a piece on a paper plate, and sat in the chair in front of my desk. I went back to my chair. This felt bad.
“This is going to sound crazy.” He took a bite mechanically. “But thanks for making my favorite pie. I wouldn’t have thought you remembered. How did you know I was going to call you today?”
I shrugged. Internally, I thought, Well, shit. Now I know why I was compelled to bake this morning. I wondered if this was going to become a habit—a pie baking frenzy just before someone rolled into my life. I didn’t remember that his favorite pie was cherry, but why would I? I’d done my best to forget all about Kel.
“This is delicious, the extra spice or whatever.” He took another bite. “But about why I’m here—my situation—this is crazy,” he said again.
He had no idea what my crazy meter looked like these days. “I’ve seen some pretty strange shit. Just spit it out.”
“I went out with a witch,” he said.
“Really? A witch? That’s unusual?” I asked. I couldn’t help grinning.
He looked up and glared. “I’m serious.”
I wiped the grin off my face. “So am I. Like, a real witch? How do you know?” Since I’m part witch myself, I wondered how one told a boyfriend. I leaned forward, eager to know. Not that there was a boyfriend on the horizon. I was just interested.
“She told me, and well, after she told me, it was pretty obvious. She dealt with some… interesting characters.”
“Really?”
He shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “We dated for a while, and then we broke up, and I ran into someone I’d met coming in her place. That was even weirder,” Kel said, stopping to look over my head.
“How?”
He looked down, away from me. “It sounds crazy to even think it.” He seemed stuck as to his choice for words.
“No judgement, Kel. Just tell me.”
“Lavina was—is—a vampire.”
I sat back. I hadn’t been expecting that but given my summer so far, I wasn’t entirely surprised. Spending time in Deadwood, learning about my family history, meeting my too many times great-grandfather (Doc Holliday, the Doc Holliday, if you please!), and any number of other things that happened during the visit to Deadwood left me less ready to clutch my pearls about the unusual than I’d been earlier in the year.
“Okay,” I said. “Is that the bad thing that brings you here?”
Kel looked sheepish. “No, it’s great—really great, honestly. I like her a lot.” He stopped, taking another bite of the pie. “This is delicious,” he said again with his mouth full.
Good grief. I was going to have to pry this out of him. “So what’s the problem, Kel?” I asked.
“She got into an argument with another vampire, and now that vampire is dead.”
“I don’t know—”
“They think I did it!” Kel burst out, leaning forward. He set his plate on my desk. “They took Lavina away to talk to her two days ago, and then last night, three of them showed up at my door and told me I had a week to get my affairs in order and then I was coming with them to stand trial.”
“What?” This didn’t make sense. It was a huge leap to sleeping with a vampire to becoming a murderer. Not to mention, Kel was—used to be--one of the nicest guys I’d ever met. He was certainly the kindest guy in the band, and I’d been engaged to one of the other guys. Derek had been wonderful, but he wasn’t kind like Kel was. Well, like Kel had been. Once Derek died—well, people showed different sides of themselves in death.
“Why do they think you did it?” I asked.
“There’s a law against killing other vampires. If you’re found guilty, you end up put outside in the daytime, or something like that.”
Part of me was just astounded by the fact that I was having this conversation. The practical part of me said, “So they figure Lavina got you, through her feminine wiles, to do her dirty work?”
He nodded. “That’s the gist of it. I didn’t do this, Deana! You know me!” He picked up the plate again, angrily spearing the pie.
“I did,” I said quietly.
He had the grace to look up at me, the fork halfway to his mouth, ashamed. He didn’t say anything. What could he say? He was a dick to me when Derek died, and he knew it. He knew I knew it. The fact that I was sitting here talking to him was more of a testament to my feelings for Derek than it was for Kel.
“Look, Deana, I’m sorry—”
I held up a hand to cut off any statements of regret or repentance. They were forced by the situation and em
pty. “Please don’t insult either one of us. Tell me what you want me to do for you, and I’ll tell you if I can manage it, and what the price will be.”
He paled under his complexion, but he took a breath, and spoke. “I want you to find out who did this. It wasn’t me. I wasn’t doing anything other than dating a vampire who got into a dust up with another one. That’s the only thing I did. Lavina is hot, and sexy, and fun, and I really care about her, but I don’t want to die for going out with her.”
“Why do you think I can do anything with this?” I asked quietly.
“Because you’re the only person I know who does this kind of thing that I can tell the truth to. I’m desperate,” he said.
“I figured,” I shot back. “How did you know I did this? I’ve only just opened.”
“Look, if you can’t help me, just say so,” Kel got up. “I was hopeful when I saw your name online.”
“I can,” I said quietly.
“Are you just saying that? Because I didn’t have any idea all these kinds of, of people, existed until this year.” He took another bite of pie.
I nodded, thinking it was amazing that this guy was here in my office, and we were having this sort of conversation while he ate. He was telling me he didn’t want to die while he snarfed down my baked goods. “I have connections. But it’s going to cost you.”
His face took on a wary expression. “How much?”
“Just one 1948 Indian Chief motorcycle, formerly the property of Derek Sinnful. If you haven’t sold it for parts by now,” I said.
Kel sat down holding his plate tightly, his lips also tight.
Why he hadn’t expected that when he called me, much less walked in here was beyond me, but it wasn’t my problem. Derek had never gotten around to changing his will, and in the will, which was five years old at the time, he’d given Kel everything. But in anticipation of our wedding, he rebuilt the Indian Chief for me, and it had our initials on it. Kel knew this. All he had to do was give me the Indian as Derek had intended.
Instead, he told me that if Derek had wanted to change his will, he would have, and told me he wasn’t doing anything outside of what was specified in the will.
He was right. This was Derek’s fault. Derek could have changed it. But he got everything—Derek’s stuff, his shares in the band, his place—all I wanted was the bike.
And Kel, once the nicest guy I’d ever met, said no, and shut a door in my face. More than once.
“Deana—”
It was my turn to stand. “If you can’t manage the terms of what is agreeable to me, I’m sorry, Kel, but I won’t be able to take the job. I’ll wish you good luck.” I took a few steps around the desk.
“I could die.”
“My price is reasonable, given the market value,” I said, looking out the window. “And since the bike was personalized, that knocks down overall value.” These were all facts that Kel knew.
“I sold it for parts.”
“Then my fee will be one hundred thousand dollars, upfront,” I said.
“What the hell? No way, Deana! You’re out of your fucking mind!”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Sorry I can’t help you, Kel. And I am really sorry, because we were good friends at one point, and I don’t think you’re a horrible person. You’re just an asshole to me.” I crossed my arms and waited for him to leave. I could cry later. I wouldn’t do it in front of Kel Worthington. Not ever again.
He strode to the door and slammed it behind him as he left. I did notice he took the pie with him. Perhaps the baking was a warning sign of what would be walking into my place. Something to think about. Later.
Right now, I went to my desk and put my head down and cried like Derek had just died.
When I went home that night, I was restless, missing my mom and Gran. Tonight, I was wishing they were here. But I couldn’t call them, couldn’t add on to their burden. They were trying to save their own lives.
Well, I’d been willing to try and save a life, but he just wouldn’t let go of the bike. That was on Kel, no matter how guilty I was feeling. I stared at the television, not really watching it when the ring of the doorbell made me jump.
I padded silently to the door. I opened it to find Kel standing under the porch light, hands in pockets. He looked up and saw me, and without saying a word, stretched his right hand out toward me.
I held out my own hand, and he dropped a set of keys into it. “Meet me tomorrow at your office so I can give you all the information,” Kel said, his voice flat.
“Title,” I said.
He pulled an envelope from his back pocket and held it out to me. I took it.
“I’m sorry, Deana. Sorrier than you know.”
“So am I,” I said quietly.
We stared at one another, and then he turned and walked away. I waited until I heard his car leave to go out to the garage.
There in the light, was the Indian Chief. My Indian Chief. My bike, restored for me by Derek. Gleaming red, as it had been when Derek painted it. I walked over, and let my fingers trail along the leather seat, still stamped with the “DHS” that Derek had commissioned for it. For what would have been my initials after we married.
And on the gas tank, there it was. The bike was red, with black and chrome accents. But right there in pink and white and silver was a heart with two entwined ‘D’s’. For me and Derek.
Kel hadn’t sold it for parts, or painted over it, or done anything other than kept it. And now, it was with me. I cried a little more as I ran my finger over the initials and the heart, remembering watching Derek paint it. It wasn’t perfect, but he wanted to do this one thing that made my bike special, as his gift to me. I’d loved it.
I opened the garage and wheeled the bike in next to my FJ Toyota Land Cruiser, affectionately known as Baby. Now I had Baby and the Chief. As I closed the door, I watched as both of my babies disappeared from view.
Then I went in and went to bed, dreaming of fangs gleaming in the dark all night long.
Dark Pact is the first book in the Mostly Open Paranormal Investigative Agency series. Deana is the niece of Desdemona, Deirdre, and Daniella Nightingale. To read more of her story, click HERE.
About the Author
Lisa Manifold is a USA Today Bestselling Author of fantasy, paranormal, and romance stories. She moved to Colorado as an adult and has no plans of living anywhere else. She is a consummate reader, often running late because "Just one more page!" She is a fan of all things Con, and has an entire room devoted to the costumes created for Cons.
Lisa is the author of many flavors of paranormal series, including The Realm, Djinn Everlasting, Dragon Thief, The Aumahnee Prophecy, Tales from the Veil, Sisters of the Curse, the books from The Midnight Coven collective, the Deadwood Sisters and The Mostly Open Paranormal Investigative Agency.
She lives as close to the mountains as possible with her husband, children, and four red rescue dogs.
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Lisa
Also by Lisa Manifold
Vampire Mates
(with The Midnight Coven)
Immortal Darkness
The Mostly Open Paranormal
Investigative Agency
Dark Pact
Dark Night (Nov 2019)
Vampire Brides
(with The Midnight Coven)
Forever Blood
Deadwood Sisters
Hellborn: The Unlucky Book 1
Hellfire: The Unlucky Book 2
Dragon Thief
Dragon Lost
Dragon Found
The Realm Series
Heart of the Goblin King
To Wed the Goblin King
Realms of the Goblin King
Rise of the Dragon King
The Companion Tales, Volume I
The Companion Tales,
Volume II
The Aumahnee Prophecy
with Corinne O’Flynn
Eamonn’s Tale
Marigold’s Tale
Watchers of the Veil
Defenders of the Realm
Tales From The Veil
with Corinne O’Flynn
The Portal Keepers
The Gimcrackers
Djinn Everlasting
Three Wishes
Forgotten Wishes
Hidden Wishes
Sisters of the Curse
Thea’s Tale
One Night at the Ball
Casimir’s Journey
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