by R K Close
On the side of the building, there was an alley and a set of old wooden stairs that led to a landing and a single door. There were more windows on the alley side of the building as well, but only the second floor..
I went up the stairs and knocked on the door that was as dated as the stairs. I began to wonder when the last time a building inspector had been around. The curtains on the window moved aside a few inches, then fluttered shut again.
Seconds passed, and I started to wonder if I was being ignored. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a bolt being released and maybe a chain lock as well. The door opened, and Zoey greeted me with a cautious look in her eyes. I was used to it. Most people were wary when approached by the press.
“Hi, Zoey. I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a confession to make and a couple questions I’m hoping you could answer for me.” I tried to give her my most disarming smile.
Zoey still looked at me as if I were dangerous but after leaning out the door to look both ways down the alley she invited me inside. She closed and locked the door behind us, which I thought was overly cautious, but maybe the old downtown area wasn’t as safe as I’d always assumed.
Her small apartment was bright and airy, even though the actual footprint might have fit in a two-car garage in the suburbs of Phoenix. Zoey’s apartment seemed to cover the entire front of the small building, and I wondered if there was another apartment behind hers.
I was dying to ask how much rent she paid, since I was paying through the nose for my tiny house, mostly because of its proximity to the college campus.
There was a strong scent of sage and other herbs in the apartment and I wondered if I’d interrupted her in the middle of cooking. She was wearing an apron over her jeans and t-shirt.
“Are you cooking?” I asked.
Zoey motioned for me to sit in an overstuffed pink chair. “Sort of. What can I do for you, Jessica?” she asked, getting right to the point.
“Oh, um—” I started.
“You said you had a confession and a question,” Zoey prompted. She sat on one of the metal chairs next to the small two-person kitchen table.
“Yes. Well, my confession is that I stole a glass from the bar the other night,” I said quickly. She said nothing, just watched me warily.
“You might be wondering why,” I said, trying to encourage some back and forth conversation but still, she gave me nothing, so I continued. “I took the glass the Italian man had used.”
There was a flicker of something in her bright green eyes, but it happened so quickly that I couldn’t tell if it was a surprise, fear, or something else.
“Why would you do that?” Zoey asked.
I blushed. “Because I wanted to know who he was. We had two unexplained deaths in town, and a guy nobody seemed to know, starting trouble with the McKenzie brothers. I guess I did it on a hunch,” I offered.
“And what would the glass tell you?”
“I had it dusted for prints,” I said.
Zoey didn’t try to hide her surprise this time. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but then thought better of it. “What did you find?”
“Well, that’s what I wanted to ask you about.” I toyed with the hem of my coat because the question I was asking was a long shot, but the only logical one I could come up with.
“What?” she said, and it came out as a whisper.
“Where did the wine glass come from?”
“The shelf, where all the wine glasses come from,” she said, with a little annoyance.
“Is there a chance that it came from someplace else in the bar? Like could it have been taken out of storage...really old storage and used by mistake? Or maybe the owner purchased some glassware from an estate sale or something like that?” I asked, knowing that I was grasping at straws, but it was also my last refuge of ordinary.
“No.” Zoey crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side to study me.
“Are you sure? Maybe someone else put an old glass up there and then you used it without knowing it was old,” I suggested.
“No, I cleaned all the glasses that day. The glasses on the shelf were the ones I personally cleaned and placed there,” she assured me.
I felt myself deflate. “Well, that was my last straw,” I said.
“Will you tell me what you found?” Zoey asked, leaning forward and resting her forearms on her knees.
“Would you believe the prints on the glass belonged to you, me, and a dead guy?” I asked, shrugging my shoulders.
Zoey stared at me for a long moment. I began to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
“What did you learn about me?” she asked.
That was an odd question, since I’d just told her she served wine to a dead guy. “Only that your name was in the system. I wasn’t interested in your prints. I knew your prints and mine were on the glass,” I lied.
Zoey watched me closely, and I don’t know if she believed me or not. “To answer your question, yes, I would believe you.” Zoey leaned back.
I blinked at her. “Really?”
A bell sounded from what I believed was the kitchen, and Zoey stood. “I’ll only be a moment. Want some tea or water?” she asked, as she headed into the kitchen.
“Some tea would be great, thanks.” While she was busy, I let my eyes wander around the apartment. It was an eclectic style with Native American art mixed with antique glassware and strands of dried flowers and other plants hanging upside down throughout the cozy home.
If I had to sum up Zoey’s space, I could do it with a few words. Old books, enough candles to open a shop, and dried flowers and herbs. Everything else seemed inconsequential in comparison. I wanted to know what she was cooking; the smell was strong and hung somewhere between inviting and maybe-not.
I picked up a book on the top of a stack piled on the floor next to me. It was leather bound, old, and smelled musty. I was almost afraid to open it, for fear of damaging the delicate pages within. Just as I was about to chance it, Zoey came out of the kitchen carrying two cups of hot tea. She noticed the book in my hand. My cheeks felt warm as I quickly replaced it, then took the mug she offered me.
“Thank you,” I said.
Zoey didn’t say anything about the book, but she didn’t look happy about my snooping either.
“So, you would believe that the fingerprint of a guy who’s been dead for twenty years just happened to be on a glass that only three people touched—you and I, being two of those people?” I asked, then raised the cup to my nose. It smelled of lemon and lavender.
“There are many things that can’t be explained away so easily,” Zoey said.
“Yeah, I’ve been hearing that a lot lately. But a dead guy walking into your bar and ordering a glass of wine doesn’t seem unreasonable?” I asked, wondering if Zoey was a nut-job or just open-minded to weird possibilities. And what did that say about me? I’d gone as far as researching vampires and zombie voodoo. The information ranged from laughable to downright horrifying.
“Let me ask you a question, Jessica.” I nodded, then took a sip of the tea, which was delicious. “Do you believe a dead man drank from that glass?”
There it was. This was the question that I’d struggled with since Lorie told me about the prints. Once I research how improbable it would have been for Lorenzo to fake his death all those years ago, this was my last rational explanation. I thought that the gangster could have touched that glass years ago when it made its way into a box and only recently made its way back into circulation. It was a long shot but, in my mind, a real possibility.
“It seems impossible, but the facts are lining up that way. Do you know anything that might help explain it?” I asked.
“I do, but I think you already know. You just don’t want to accept it, so you search for an explanation that is more to your liking,” Zoey raised her eyebrows knowingly and sipped her tea.
“Why do you accept this...the supernatural explanation so easily?” I countered.
“That’s my secret to keep. Not all secrets are bad, Jessica. Sometimes, we keep secrets for good reasons. Sometimes, secrets are kept to keep others safe. But most secrets are purely self-preservation.”
She didn’t mention Liam, but his name came to mind as if she’d said it out loud. Did she know his secret?
“Haven’t you ever had a secret that doesn’t affect anyone, except maybe you?” she asked.
I thought about it, but the only secret I held was my secret dream of being an artist. I guess it didn’t hurt anyone but me. Being a news anchor was not my first choice and that was my secret.
I nodded.
“Did you know that art is considered in some cultures to be a form of magic,” Zoey said, standing.
I blinked and sat up straight. Did I say that out loud?
Zoey smiled slyly.
“What made you say that?” I asked.
“I don’t know. You give off an artsy vibe, I guess.” Her smile, however, suggested a more profound knowledge. Now, I was looking for mysteries in everything. I had to be reading too much into her comment. I’d never told anyone but Daisy, and now Liam that I had any interest in art. Zoey couldn’t know about my love of art. Could she?
I thanked her for her time and the tea. As she showed me to the door, I stepped out of the apartment and turned around. “I have to ask, what are you cooking? It smells...interesting.” That was the politest word I could come up with, short of lying, and I didn’t want to do that with Zoey Espinoza. I had the distinct feeling that she’d know.
“It’s an old family recipe. I don’t think you’d like it much,” she said, winking. “When you’re ready to deal with the truth, come see me. I may be able to help.” She smiled and closed the door before I could reply.
20
Liam
Homecoming weekend meant people started celebrating on Wednesday and didn’t stop until Monday. It would make sense that the vampire would want to take advantage of the crowds. I felt the odds were good that we might spot him.
Cole, Seth, and I agreed to divide up and roam from one party spot to the next until we found the vampire. This time Seth was at the Moon, I was at the Weatherford hotel, and Cole was working the streets by following the college crowd from one house party to the next. He’d hit some bars if he had time.
That was the only way to protect Jessica and the community. I wasn’t looking forward to killing anyone again, even a vampire, but I’d do what I needed to do. I didn’t like this idea of vigilante justice, but what choice did we have?
We’d been at it all night with no sign of our target. I was tempted to call it off for the evening, but my sense of urgency prompted me to stick it out a while longer. It was all I could do not to stake out Jessica’s house, but if we didn’t catch this guy, she’d be walking around with a target on her back, and impossible for me to protect her.
It was a good thing that I stayed. Just before midnight, a couple walked into the hotel bar. Having been exposed to the scent, I knew right away what they were. Seeing two more vampires in town made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, and my wolf stirred restlessly.
The vampires must have been able to sense my kind in some way because they picked me out of the crowded bar immediately. The man and woman made their way to a table on the opposite end of the room.
They continued to steal cautious glances at me. The woman’s thin face was striking under a head of long white-gray hair. She didn’t look older than early thirties. Her high dark brows were a dramatic contrast. The she-vamp’s willowy figure moved with liquid grace, like a cat.
The male was notable in that he too made an impression. His dark brown, shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a ponytail, his features suggesting an Anglo-Saxon European heritage. He was equally as exotic as the woman.
The waitress went over and tried to offer them menus, but they refused them. She walked away, then returned with two glasses of red wine. The woman took a small object from within a beaded handbag that she’d placed on the table.
Curious, I watched as she opened the top and tapped a few drops of red liquid into the wine glass before returning it to her handbag. She noticed me watching and raised her glass toward me, then took a drink.
It only took seconds before I caught the scent of blood. I inhaled deeply, then raised my beer to her. Her face was difficult to read, so I wasn’t sure if her message was taunting or friendly. I only needed to know what her kind did to three innocent people to know I didn’t want them in my town.
Under these circumstances, they were guilty until proven innocent, and my money was on guilty.
I picked up my cell phone and sent Seth and Cole a warning about the two new vampires. My phone began to blow up with messages from both my brothers.
Seth: I got two vamps here at the moon. What do we do now?
Another message chilled me to the bone.
Cole: I just found three hanging around outside a college party, two men and one woman. What the hell?
I looked up from the phone to see the vamps were gone.
Liam: Meet at the moon. These vamps left. Any eyes on Lorenzo?
They both replied with no. That meant we had eight or more vampires on the loose in Flagstaff. It was like a damn vampire convention. Had Lorenzo called in reinforcements because he was seeking revenge on us?
I settled my bill and hurried down the street to the Moon. The streets and bars were crowded and would be for several more days. I spotted Seth but pulled up short. He was talking to two people, an attractive young brunette, and a well-built black man. Both could pass for college students—if they weren’t vampires.
I came to stand next to Seth and eyed the other two. Neither looked like they cared what we were, and they certainly didn’t seem threatened by us. “Liam. This is Olivia and Simon. They’re...new in town,” Seth said, looking around to see if anyone was listening.
Neither Simon or Olivia offered their hands, which was just as well. I wasn’t feeling friendly. “What’s the story?” I asked Seth.
“Olivia says her family just moved to town last week,” Seth said, raising his eyebrows. I got what he was saying.
Olivia had long brown hair, cut in soft layers. She was small and petite, like Zoey, but she radiated strength in her tiny frame. Her eyes were smudged with the dark shadow that made her light amber eyes more dramatic than they already were.
“Is that right? And how long will your family be visiting?” I asked, playing along for anyone who was listening.
“We’ve relocated here. The head of the household likes the fresh air and smell of pine trees,” Olivia said sarcastically.
For all of her bravado, I couldn’t help but notice that her eyes kept landing on Seth, and he seemed attentive to her every word. What the hell was going on here? Simon held silent, seemingly comfortable allowing Olivia to do the talking. His eyes were green, but just as light and somewhat iridescent as Olivia’s amber ones.
Cole walked up, pulling up short, as I had. “What the hell? Are we just one big happy fricken family now?” He sounded disgusted as he glared at the vampires.
“That’s right. We’re going to start howling at the moon and dancing naked around a bonfire soon. Want to be the virgin sacrifice? It could be fun,” she mocked. She winked at Cole and took a sip of beer.
Seth started chuckling, but Cole looked like he was about to lose it. I placed a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “Easy, Cole,” I said, close to his ear.
He was breathing hard, and I could sense his wolf was close to the surface.
“Down, boy,” Olivia teased. Cole started to lunge at her, but Seth and I held him in place. Olivia laughed. Simon had also moved, placing himself between Olivia and us.
Seth gave her a disapproving look over his shoulder. Surprisingly, she cast her eyes down as if maybe she felt bad for teasing Cole.
When Cole had himself under control, Simon moved back to his casual posture next to Olivia but kept his gaze on Cole. It wasn’t cle
ar what their relationship was. He was undoubtedly protective of her. That much was clear as crystal.
“Now that we’ve all settled down, the guy we’re looking for is part of Olivia and Simon’s...family, but Olivia here isn’t too fond of him, if you know what I mean,” Seth said, grinning at Olivia. She didn’t smile back—thank all that is holy.
Could Seth be flirting with a vampire? I’d always known he handed out the charm indiscriminately, but this took it to a whole new level.
“Why would you help us?” Cole demanded, still not liking our present company.
“Maybe I’m not helping you.” She finished the last of her beer. “Maybe I’m hurting him.” With that, she glanced at Simon. He nodded and followed closely behind her as she brushed roughly past us and out of the bar. We stared after them until they left.
“Damn, I think I’m in love,” Seth said, staring after her. Cole and I looked at him like he’d just lost his mind. And, apparently, he had.
“Are you crazy? Did you not get that she’s a vampire?” Cole said, heatedly. “What about Henry?”
Seth dropped the silly grin and turned to Cole. “She said that was Lorenzo, and that he would be punished for it,” Seth said. “She said they are out looking for him tonight.”
“And you believe her?” I asked, surprised.
“I do. Something in her words rang true. She didn’t have a beef with me, but she does seem to hate that Lorenzo guy,” Seth defended. “Olivia said that Lorenzo’s actions put them all in danger.”
“Then you’re dumber than you look,” Cole said harshly.
“Watch it, little brother,” Seth warned, all playfulness gone.
The last thing I needed was fighting amongst ourselves. I stepped in between them.
“That’s enough. We have bigger problems. I don’t need the two of you at each other's throats,” I said. “Same team, same pack, same family, remember?”