The Hex Files Box Set

by Gina LaManna

  “Yeah, I am,” he said shifting. “I’m Drew. What do you need? My dad okay?”

  I exhaled and was hit by the familiar despair that came with notifying a family member’s loved ones of a death. As I shared the awful news with Drew, I realized this part had never, would never, get any easier. My time away from the precinct only seemed to make this part worse.

  Drew invited us inside, stunned and speechless like any shocked, grieving son would be. But there was an underlying current of something resembling frustration that had me wondering what he knew. Or suspected.

  Matthew and I sat on a threadbare couch and waited as Drew lit a cigarette and began to puff on it.

  “If you’re detectives,” Drew said between huffs, “that probably means something wasn’t right. How did he die?”

  Matthew glanced at me. “I’m sorry to share that we believe your father was murdered. The carriage he was driving was stolen.”

  “It wasn’t his carriage—it was mine,” Drew said. “My dad quit yesterday. Stupid decision, but probably smarter than the other decisions he’s been making lately.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I think he was taking some off-the-books fares.”

  I frowned. “For who?”

  Drew shook his head. “I don’t know any details; I don’t even know if that’s what he was up to exactly, but I warned him against breaking the rules. Our company has a strict, above-the-table policy. We’re reliable and honest, and that’s why we charge big prices.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I said. “You started working for Castle Caravans a year ago?”

  “Yeah. My dad raved about it, and I’ve never amounted to all that much.” Drew sat back and lowered the cigarette. Smoke curled upward like a lazy cat unfurling from a window seat. “I worked in some of the bars on Silver Street, but I’m not a huge fan of crowds. I’m not much of a people person, but there’s not much besides a few manners when driving a carriage. The hours suit me. I’m a night owl. I like the cash tips. It works for me, and it made my dad a solid career. I figured why couldn’t it do the same for me?”

  “Then why’d you lend him your carriage? You risked your job. Did he at least tell you why he needed it?”

  “He’s my dad,” Drew said, and then cleared his throat. “He was my dad. I figured, I dunno... he’d already quit. Maybe he had gotten wrapped up in something and was trying to get out. Maybe he needed one last run or whatever. I told him it would be a one-time thing, and he seemed fine with that.”

  “Why didn’t you report it?” I said. “Or at least report your father missing when he didn’t return last night?”

  “I saw my dad yesterday. I live by myself. Why would I have assumed him missing?”

  “Your carriage—”

  “It must have been returned before morning inspections,” Drew said. “Otherwise, I would have gotten a call, and yeah, I might have turned my dad in then. I don’t know.”

  I glanced at Matthew, but he gave a slight shake of his head. We both stood on cue, and I waited as Matthew handed over his card to Drew.

  “Let us know if you remember anything else,” Matthew said. “We’re going to do our best to bring your father’s murderer to justice. You never know what might be helpful.”

  Drew took the card, glanced at it. Then he ran a hand over his face and stuck the cigarette back between his lips. “I told him this would happen.”

  My ears perked up. “Told him what?”

  Drew looked exhausted. “I told my dad if he didn’t stop what he was doing, it’d get him killed.”

  Chapter 21

  “I think we need to head back to Dust,” Dani said once they’d left Drew’s apartment and found themselves strolling toward Silver Street. “Find Damien and Bran, put a little pressure on them. We know something’s not right about that place. It’s a hunting ground.”

  Matthew’s gaze flicked over at her choice of words, but he didn’t comment. She looked far too exhausted to be standing, let alone working.

  “Maybe Jim was involved in this somehow,” she mused. “Our first kidnapper scouts for women, then pays off the deejay and ushers them outside during the dust storm to Jim’s waiting carriage. Then he drives the girls to a hidden location while the first kidnapper returns to the club and gives himself a big, fat alibi for times of kidnapping.”

  “Do you think Drew is in on it?”

  Dani glanced over at Matthew. “What makes you say that?”

  “He did lend his father the carriage, knowing Jim was running some off-the-books fares,” Matthew pointed out. “He might know more than he’s letting on.”

  Matthew glanced down as his Comm buzzed. “Marcus,” he said in explanation. “Hold that thought.”

  Dani tried not to eavesdrop, but Matthew didn’t move away, and Marcus’s voice carried, so she was able to make out the gist of the call. It was harder not to grit her teeth at the very sound of Marcus’s voice, but she kept silent. It wouldn’t help if Marcus knew Matthew was letting Dani listen in to the Comm.

  “Sir, I think there’s something you need to know about the Jim Geronimo murder,” Marcus said. “You’re notifying Drew Geronimo?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, turns out Jim has two sons,” Marcus said. “Take a wild guess what his other son’s name might be.”

  “I’m stumped, Detective.”

  “Damien.”

  Danielle’s eyebrows shot up.

  Matthew did a better job of hiding his surprise. “Why didn’t that come up right away?”

  “Damien changed his last name a few years back to his mother’s maiden name. He wasn’t hard to find, but the initial ping took longer than Drew’s.”

  “Well, that can’t be a coincidence,” Matthew said. “Thanks, Prey. I’ll check it out.”

  “I’m happy to do it for you, sir.”

  “That’s alright,” Matthew said. “We can handle it. Keep digging and let me know if you find anything else.”

  Matthew hung up the Comm and glanced at Dani, who had her eyes squeezed shut.

  “Something the matter?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Marcus hates that we’re working together.”

  “Prey can take orders. This is not special treatment,” Matthew said firmly. “We have to get to Dust. If we didn’t have a reason before, we do now.”

  “You don’t think Damien killed his own father, do you?” Dani asked. “He doesn’t seem like he’s got enough backbone to follow through on something of that nature.”

  “Are you suggesting a third person might be involved?”

  “Bran would make sense,” Dani said. “They both work in the club. What Damien lacks in charisma, Bran makes up for in cockiness and arrogance.”

  “And they are related,” Matthew said thoughtfully. “That’s the whole reason they opened the club together.”

  “A family business turned murderous.” Dani’s eyes darkened. “They’d better hope we’re wrong.”

  Matthew watched Dani’s eyes as determination set in. “We’ll get to the bottom of it soon. We’re close.”

  “Maybe, but we’ve gotta be faster,” Dani said. “We’ve got to find Linsey and Lisa before they end up like Lillie and Maybelline. We need to find Damien, and my gut is telling me he might not be as easy to find this time around.”

  Matthew considered. “I’ll get Marcus back on the Comm and have him sent over to Dust. You can join him or head to the precinct and wait for Damien to be brought in. I’ll meet you there to question him.”

  “Why aren’t we going ourselves?” Dani asked, her eyes narrowing on Matthew’s. It took her a moment to study him, and then she understood. “You need to feed.”

  Matthew’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “I don’t suppose you’d care to join?”

  “Seeing as I’d rather drill a hole in my head than see Marcus, I’ll take you up on that offer,” Dani said. “I’ll check with Felix to see about updates, and then we’ll meet Damien at the sta
tion once Marcus tracks him down.”

  “I need to stop by my place,” Matthew said. “I won’t be long. If you’re uncomfortable, you can meet me at the lab.”

  Dani raised her chin in defiance. “I’m fine if you are.”

  “This way, then,” he said, and strode away without waiting.

  Matthew had been so caught up in the crime scene and whirlwinds of the last few days that he’d let himself go too long between synthetic blood feedings. Normally, he could control himself quite well, and he’d had no issues at the station this morning.

  But standing next to Danielle—alone—here in a back alley outside of the Goblin Grid, Matthew was having the hardest time focusing on anything but the sweet scent of Dani and the steady pulse of her heart. He felt his own body react toward hers, his skin tingling at the prospect of a single taste. He yearned for her in ways that had his mind shutting down and his primal, protective nature rising to the surface.

  If he didn’t move fast, there’d be more innocent blood spilled.

  And Matthew wouldn’t—couldn’t—let that happen again.

  “IT WON’T BE LONG,” Matthew said as they reached his house. “Would you prefer to wait outside?”

  “No.” Dani swept past him through the open door, and Matthew felt himself forcing back a smile as she stopped dead in the entryway. “I forgot how rich this place is.”

  She wrinkled her nose in distaste, and Matthew laughed, delighted to have the blunt detective working by his side again.

  “It smells expensive,” she said, giving him a sly glance. “Sort of like you.”

  “There are worse things to smell like, I suppose,” Matthew said, passing through the sterile, modernized kitchen that was entirely useless in a vampire’s residence. “I’ll take expensive if that’s all the compliment you’re willing to give.”

  Dani snorted as she followed him along. “Why do you keep your fridge stocked anyway?” she asked, pulling open the doors and retrieving a can of diet soda. “How many visitors have you had here?”

  “One,” Matthew said. “Hence the reason it’s stocked only with your favorites.”

  Dani took a long moment scanning the fridge, then slammed it shut with impatience.

  “I’ll be in the living room,” she said. “Waiting. Make it quick—I’m going to Comm Felix.”

  Dani retreated from the kitchen, admiring it with a forlorn look on her face, probably mourning its lack of use in Matthew’s home. Once she was gone, Matthew continued through the house to a storage space in the back designated explicitly for his supplies. Synthetic blood and the like.

  He unfastened it, wondering why he kept his supplies hidden from the rest of the household. He rarely had visitors. Dani knew as well as he did that synthetic blood kept him alive, so why didn’t he leave it on a shelf in the fridge next to her sodas?

  Matthew knew the answer to that as well.

  As he pierced a full bag with a long, talon-like nail and raised it to his lips, he closed his eyes and drank. And like always, he knew, he realized that his very species was a barrier to him and Dani ever truly coming together. While Dani never made him feel ashamed for what he was, the guilt was built into Matthew’s very essence.

  He could never provide a normal life for Dani. Marriage, children, a life together—all of that looked different with a vampire. If normalcy was something Danielle wanted, she’d have to find it elsewhere.

  Though Matthew hated to admit it, even Grey could offer a more normal life than Matthew ever could. Grey might transform now and again into a big furry beast, but that was an isolated case. The rest of the time, Grey was a warm-blooded, heart-pounding person.

  Matthew would never be that.

  He drank, finishing the bag with a flourish and reaching for another. Normally, one bag was more than enough to do the trick, but he felt on fire today, his thirst burning a hole through him. Despite the fact Dani was in the house, tucked back through several closed doors, Matthew could smell her scent, and he hungered for her. Thirsted. Desired.

  He drank and drank, and still his thirst wasn’t quenched.

  He reached for a third bag before realizing that this synthetic substitute would never be enough to fill the gaping hole inside of him. Only one person could do that, and she was sitting just across the house.

  He dropped the third bag back where he’d found it and returned inside. He flew through the kitchen, aware his body felt revitalized by the large infusion of blood—and simultaneously aware that the hole in his chest was larger than ever. Matthew stormed into the sitting room downstairs and came to a dead stop at the sight of Dani there on the couch.

  She was out cold, dead to the world, her heart beating a slow, sensual tune while her breath came in even waves. Her hair spread in a halo around her face, and her body—clothed in tough, dark leathers and spiky studs—looked small and unbearably fragile. The poor thing was exhausted.

  Matthew could practically feel her energy replenishing from her much-needed rest. She’d be much more useful after a half hour’s nap than she would if he woke her now. So, with painstaking gentleness, he lifted her in his arms and climbed the stairs to the second level.

  Matthew had purchased the property—one of the oldest in the city—because it brought back memories of easier times. Times before Dani, times when he’d had only to focus on himself.

  Then, for a brief flash in time, Dani had swept through these hallways and made this place warm and real. It was the first time it had become a home.

  Matthew knew Dani hated this place with its grand stairways, oversized four-poster bed, and window seat that boasted views across all of Wicked—and he knew if they were to ever come together, he’d sell this place in a heartbeat and find a new one that pleased her. Meanwhile, he was only resting here temporarily and biding his time.

  He laid Dani on the bed and covered her gently with a comforter. Then he moved to the window seat and stretched out, folded his hands in his lap, and waited.

  Chapter 22

  I woke to the feel of a whisper of skin against mine.

  My eyes flickered open, and for a moment, I panicked. The first thought to race through my mind was that I’d been kidnapped, but that notion blew away like a piece of errant lint. I was much too comfortable to have been kidnapped. It felt like someone had laid me to rest on clouds and covered me with silken sheets made for royalty.

  As my eyes focused, the reality of my surroundings sank in. The exquisite bed linens. The magnificent, lofted ceilings with a sparkling chandelier and tilted skylights that gave views to the borough beyond. And the eyes—the gorgeous, complex, dangerous pools of dark—of Matthew King staring back at me.

  “I’m sorry to wake you,” he murmured. “But you’ve been asleep for half an hour, and I knew you’d stake me if I let you sleep longer than that.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to move. I was dazed and all-too-comfortable, and I wasn’t sure which had me glued to the bed. It was then that I realized Matthew’s fingers brushing hair back from my forehead was the whisper of skin that had caused me to wake. The only thing I could manage was a husky sort of question that somewhat translated to a garbled, “What?”

  “While I was...” Matthew cleared his throat. “While I was outside, you sat on the couch and dozed off.”

  “More like fell into a black hole,” I said. “I don’t remember anything after I hit the couch.”

  “You were so exhausted, I thought I’d let you rest for a moment,” Matthew said. “Felix hasn’t Commed yet and neither has Marcus. It was imperative you rested.”

  “I guess—well, I didn’t sleep much,” I said, dragging a hand across my eyes. “Late night, early morning, you know the drill.”

  “Indeed,” Matthew said, though it’d been a long time since he’d needed rest. “Danielle, there’s something—”

  “Matthew, I need to get moving,” I said. “We both do. It’s been too long since I checked in with—”

  Matthew’s demeanor changed
, and though he didn’t outright speak, it was enough to draw silence around us both. Another flicker of something passed across his face, a nervous, almost tender sort of expression in which he watched me carefully, seeming to argue with himself. Whatever it was, I could see when he made the decision, the moment his mind changed, and he acted.

  Leaning forward, he pressed my hair back from my forehead with a softness impossible to replicate. He hesitated, meeting my gaze as he waited for the meaning to sink in. I knew this was his way of asking permission, of warning me that in the next moments, something would change that couldn’t be reversed.

  I closed my eyes, felt my lips part, and leaned into him.

  Matthew’s arms wrapped around me, held me to his chest as his mouth met mine in a whirlwind of pent-up longing, of wordless desire, of a fate that was meant to be and couldn’t quite come to pass. His hands caressed my cheeks, down my neck, over my back, and then his lips followed.

  The quick, sharp touch of fang sent an erotic jolt down my spine, and I arched toward him, letting him hold me, pull me, roll onto the bed in one graceful tumble. I wasn’t sure who reached for my shirt, but I pulled it over my head, and he tossed it aside. I tugged at his shirt next, saw the pale glint of his gorgeous torso, and pressed a trail of kisses along it.

  Dragging me back to him, our chests naked and pressed together in a symphony of hot and cold, he broke our kiss and forced my gaze to meet his.

  “I’ve waited too long to do this, Danielle, and now I simply can’t wait any longer,” he said in a low, husky murmur. “I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I know that you are mine. Of course, that’s only if you want to be, but I can’t take the risk of waiting any longer.”

  “Matthew—”

  He stole my argument with a kiss. “I was created to love you, to be one with you, and if fate pulls us apart, it won’t be because I didn’t make my feelings clear.”

  “I know, Matthew, and I love you, too.”