Heir of the Dog (Liars and Vampires Book 6)

by Robert J. Crane

  “Hey, Derrick?” I asked as gently as I could, as I remembered why it always fell on me.

  Because somehow, the recovering liar had become the one who now had to bring the truth.

  “Cassie, what were you doing fighting with my dad?” he asked, wheeling on me as though the mere sound of my voice had set him off. “That was stupid. You don’t know what he’s capable of. He could —” he said, pausing, almost disgusted with himself for thinking about what he was about to say, “He could’ve hurt you, Cassie.”

  “Derrick, I have to tell you something about your dad,” I said, drawing a deep breath.

  He stopped. “I – what?”

  I sighed and looked to Xandra for support. She nodded at me.

  “No easy way to say this.” I kicked at the tangled St. Augustine grass beneath my shoe. “Your dad…” How could I say this without sounding like a complete loon? A moment's contemplation reminded me that really, there was no way to avoid that, so might as well just say it. “Your dad…is a werewolf.”

  I waited for him to reply.

  When he didn’t, I sighed.

  “…a formerly Amish werewolf,” I said, continuing on. Maybe the absurdity of the statement would cause a reaction, or at least a reply.

  Nope. Nothing.

  “Maybe you could’ve left out the part about the Amish?” Xandra asked. “It's such a weirdly irrelevant detail.”

  “Yeah, what does being Amish have to do with it?” Derrick asked. His voice was strained and it cracked a little at the end of his question. Easy there, fella. Pretty sure you went through puberty already.

  “There’s a hot bed of werewolves in their community,” I said, with a shrug.

  Derrick was moving his lips like he was trying to form words. “W...what?” he finally croaked out.

  “Trust her, she knows paranormal. She’s killed vampires,” Xandra said, as if she were my posse and we were in the middle of some smack-talk battle.

  “Ixnay on the ampire-vays,” I said to her.

  “Are you speaking Pig Latin?” Derrick's eyes were wide. “Do you really think I can't understand you?”

  “I thought it was a dead language.”

  “That would be actual Latin,” Derrick said.

  “Are you sure? I remember reading something about iGen not understanding – Never mind.” I shook my head.

  “Vampires? Seriously?” His voice was cracking again. “This isn’t funny. Not at all, Cassie.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny,” I said. “I realize this sounds ludicrous, but —”

  “No, it doesn’t sound that way. It is ludicrous!” he snapped. “Werewolves? Vampires? Did your fight with my dad knock a few screws loose?”

  Well, that was a new one.

  “No,” I said. “Look, I get that this is hard to digest, but it’s the truth, whether or not you agree with it.”

  “Now you sound like my dad,” Derrick said, folding his arms over his chest.

  “You said yourself that he looked crazy just a few minutes ago,” I said, gesturing to the spot on the sidewalk where he’d been standing. The gravel was all kicked up and smeared from where he had taken off back to the car. “You mentioned his eyes. And yeah, we saw it, too.”

  Derrick shook his head. “This is insane. I don’t even know you. Why would I believe your bizarre story about all this?”

  “I’m not asking you to trust me, exactly,” I said, but no, I guess I really was asking him to trust me. “I’m just telling you the truth about what’s going on. These are things that you need to know.”

  “How could my dad be a werewolf?” Derrick asked. “I’ve never seen him...transform or anything like that.”

  “You said he disappears a lot, right?” I said. “Could it be, oh, I don’t know…about every thirty days?”

  He glared at me. Finally a, “Maybe,” escaped him.

  “So, like…every full moon?” I asked.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Derrick said.

  “You also told me that he’d been acting wild lately, that it had pushed you all apart. You used that word specifically. Your mom is divorcing the guy, for crying out loud.”

  His face turned red, but he said nothing.

  “I’m not the enemy here, Derrick,” I said. “And honestly, I’m probably the only one in this entire state who can help you. Because I’m pretty sure you aren’t going to stumble upon someone else by accident who just happens to know about werewolves and vampires and faeries like I do.”

  “You know…I was just thinking the same thing,” he said darkly, his hands balling into fists. With a pivot of his shoes in the dirt, Derrick started up the sidewalk away from Xandra and I.

  “Wait, Derrick,” I shouted after him, hurrying to catch up to him.

  He held up his hand in the air. “No,” he said. “I think I'm good. I'm sure you feel sorry for me because of everything I have going on, but I don't need help from a crazy person.”

  “But you aren’t safe,” I said.

  Another wave of his hand, as he shoved the other into the pocket of his jeans. “And you can help how? I mean, seriously. Werewolves? Vampires? Do you even hear yourself?” He just shook his head, walking away and I did not bother to follow him.

  Chapter 12

  “Well, that could have gone better,” Xandra said, crossing her arms.

  I sighed, staring after Derrick, my heart a tangled mess in my chest. “Thanks for that helpful summation.” I turned to give her the stink eye.

  There was nothing we could do, save chasing after him, tying him up and dragging him along to meet Mill or Iona. Or maybe Lockwood. Any one of those three might be able to open his eyes to the truth of the improbable paranormal weirdness in our world. But then I’d probably get charged with kidnapping and how was I going to help him from juvie? Stupid non-paranormal world and its rules and laws.

  “What are you smirking about?” Xandra asked as we set off across the street, toward our own houses.

  “I was just thinking about the fact that no one would be able to take me if I went to prison,” I said. “I know too many ways to protect myself now. I mean, if I can take down vampires, then I don’t think I have much to fear from a big mama who wants to make me her girlfriend.”

  It was a credit to Xandra that she didn’t even ask why I was thinking about jail. “Well, yeah, you’d be making shivs out of pencils or something and you’d probably meet a gremlin that lived inside the wall of your cell or something inside. Then you’d force the whole prison into a riot, where you'd somehow miraculously escape and ride off into the sunset with Mill on the back of a Pegasus.” She wrinkled her nose. “Do those exist in this world?”

  “I don't think so.” She had become way too obsessed with my tales of Faerie.

  “In all seriousness,” she said as we turned the corner onto my street, both of us wilting from the summer heat and watery humidity in the air, “he took all that news about as well as I would have thought. Remember how we reacted when we saw what Byron could do.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said with a sigh. “It's a lot to take in. It'd be nice to be believed, though, especially given the stakes.”

  “Hey, I was on this vampire and weirdness train from the beginning,” she said.

  “I came around, though,” I said. “Byron got me there, it just took a little while.”

  We both mutually shivered at the thought of him and not for the first time I was grateful he was dead. The rental house came into view and I sighed. This place wasn't terrible, but it wasn't...home.

  “You wanna stay for dinner?” I asked. “I’m sure Mom won’t mind, especially since you aren’t Mill.”

  Xandra smirked at me. “You talk about him enough that your mom probably feels like he's there.”

  I gave her a jab with my elbow. “I promise not to bring up Mill...probably.”

  “So much for giving up lying,” she said with a quick and easy grin that faded fast. “What are you going to do about Derrick?”


  “I don't know,” I said as we turned onto the narrow, concrete slab path that led to the front door. A car whizzed by behind us, driving way too fast. We both turned, my heart skipping a beat and I relaxed when I realized it wasn’t Mr. Bauer.

  “The truth has not set you free,” she said. “Seriously, maybe you should’ve just kept lying to him, after all.”

  “Yeah, but trust me, that never ends well,” I said.

  We stopped just outside the door and I looked around.

  Life here wasn’t so bad. My favorite coffee shop was only a couple of blocks away. There was a large park across the street where a bunch of kids were kicking around a soccer ball, squealing at one another with delight. There was a wind in the trees that smelled strongly of the Gulf of Mexico, salty and warm and a few seagulls cawed at one another overhead.

  “Well, if we can’t get to Derrick,” I said, looking back at Xandra. “Maybe we can figure out what’s happened with his dad. Do some digging of our own.”

  “I like that look on your face.” Xandra’s eyes flashed with excitement. “It smacks of adventure.”

  “Adventure indeed.” I smirked and nodded. “I'm thinking we should pay a visit to our old friends...the Amish.”

  Chapter 13

  “Holy crow,” Xandra said as we stood outside PDQ scarfing chicken sandwiches we'd purchased in lieu of a home-cooked meal. Waiting around for Mom to get home had resulted in little more than a distracted frown and a vague suggestion we should fend for ourselves. Which we were now doing as a sleek black Maserati slid into the parking space in front of us, headlights, that blinding white variety, glaring off our eyelids and probably visible to aliens in another galaxy.

  “This is a really swanky town,” I said, trying to shield my eyes and failing. My chicken was sticking in my throat. I wondered if the industrial kitchen where they turned these things out had used extra grease today or what? “I never used to see cars like this back home in New York.”

  “Yeah,” Xandra said. “Our part of town isn't that swanky, though. I mean, my parents drive Toyotas. I rate the likelihood I ever ride in a Maserati as somewhere slightly below the chances of me...” She lowered her voice and mumbled something I didn't quite catch.

  The Maserati door opened and a tall, slim shape rose out in shadow behind the blinding lights. “Now why would any sane person,” a familiar voice said, “ever want to meet Adam Levine?”

  “Lockwood?” I blinked through the fierce glare. The shadow stepped forward, far enough outside of the beams that I could see that, indeed, it was Lockwood who'd emerged from the Maserati.

  “That car is lit, dude,” Xandra said, almost hooting, Lockwood's slight against her beloved Maroon 5 apparently forgiven in the wake of this Maserati revelation.

  “I think we're lit, actually,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Like a commercial building at night.”

  “Come on,” Lockwood said, waving us forward. “We can catch up on the way.”

  Xandra and I ditched the rest of our chicken by unspoken agreement and got in the Maserati. “Lockwood, holy cow,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat. It smelled like a brand-new car, with warm leather, car shampoo and a minty freshness from the tiny green inserts shoved into the air vents. “I’m afraid to touch anything in here.” Everything was trimmed in a pretty, soft wood and shiny almost chrome-like accents surrounded all of the tech and the stick shift. “When I asked if you'd be willing to drive us down to the Amish community, I figured you'd bring...y'know, a normal car.”

  He grinned at me. “Only the best for you, Lady Cassandra.”

  “It's like a drivable spacecraft...that probably costs more than my parents’ house,” Xandra said, tracing her finger along one of the intricate red stitches in the dark blue leather seat beside her.

  “I don’t know about that…” Lockwood said.

  “What happened to the Mercedes?” I asked.

  His smile dimmed. “Well, after everything that happened at Draven’s there were simply too many blood stains, both human and vampire, for any detailer to ever truly make that car whole again. So I decided it was time for something new. Something fresh.”

  “Something only a CEO, football player, or rapper would be able to afford,” Xandra said. “How does a driver afford this?”

  “There are ways,” Lockwood said quickly. “So...Sarasota?”

  “Yep.” I blinked at him. “The Amish place. I mean…I sort of assumed Mill would’ve told you.”

  “I haven’t spoken to him in a few days,” Lockwood said. “I had needed some time away, so I —”

  “Went back to Faerie?” Xandra asked, immediately leaning forward in her seat, her eyes wide. “Oh, come on, Lockwood. You have to take me next time.”

  “I didn’t go to Faerie,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I just…had some me time.”

  I suppressed the chuckle. “Oh? And what does that look like for you?”

  Lockwood’s shoulders tensed. “I —” he said. “I found a very nice spa that one of my fellow expatriates recommended. They —”

  Xandra and I both dissolved into laughter as he revved the engine up. “Sorry,” I said, between laughs, “it’s just really hard for me to imagine the valiant Lockwood getting his fingernails buffed and his eyes covered in little cucumbers.”

  He gave me a quizzical look. “Cucumbers? No, not at all. It was a fae spa. They work in the practice of magical renewal.”

  He proceeded to enthrall us the rest of the way to Sarasota with what a faerie spa was like exactly. Apparently, it involved drinking special teas, resting suspended in nets woven from the strands of unicorn tails and phoenix feathers and bathing in a spring of water from Faerie.

  “Well, this is the address,” Lockwood said, pulling up alongside the sidewalk.

  I peered out into the evening, the sun low in the sky. It was the right place, I thought and the same as I remembered. The whole town was as I remembered it, really – quiet, sleepy, the sort of thing you'd expect from the Amish. The little post office down the street was closed, but several of the houses had their lights in their windows, including Obadiah and Jedidiah’s. I wondered if those were candles or oil lamps or what, since they couldn't have been electric.

  “I haven’t been down here in years,” Xandra said. “I wonder if they still make that amazing peanut butter pie at that restaurant of theirs…what was it called? Yoders?” She licked her lips.

  “You just had a peanut butter milkshake,” I said, glancing at her empty cup in her hands.

  She shrugged. “Girl can have fat dreams, can’t she?”

  We stepped out of the car into the warm night air. Florida had really turned on the heat in the last few weeks and I was wondering if I had enough pairs of shorts to keep me going through the summer. I hadn’t worn jeans in weeks and it was still odd to me to not have to bring a sweatshirt for the evening. Even in the middle of summer, the temperatures dropped at night in New York.

  Lockwood locked his car and I chuckled.

  “You worried about the devilish Amish youth jacking your ride?” I asked.

  Lockwood looked a little sheepish but said nothing.

  I led the way up to the front door, knocked quickly on the white washed wood and stood back. Xandra and Lockwood waited on the path behind me.

  The sound of a lock being opened met my ears and I turned to see Jedediah staring at me from inside the house. He was a tall, skinny teenager with a babyish face and bright blue eyes.

  “Oh,” he said, his face splitting in a smile. “Cassie. How are —”

  The door was pulled open farther and I saw the hulking patriarch of the community, Obadiah, standing there beside him, glaring down at me.

  “Ah, it’s the little human, come back to ask us for a favor,” Obadiah said in his gravelly voice. “I thought that we had taken care of your vampire problem for you.”

  “You did and I am super grateful for that,” I said. “There was actually something I —”

 
But Obadiah’s eyes had narrowed as he looked past me at Xandra and Lockwood.

  A deep, guttural growl emanated from Obadiah’s chest, making the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  “Fae,” Obadiah breathed, but it was more like a snarl. “Get him gone.”

  “But —” I said.

  “Magic is magic, little human,” Obadiah said, his lip curling. ‘And we don’t like his magic any more than those witches we killed.”

  “He isn’t —” I said

  “It’s all right, Lady Cassandra,” Lockwood said, his face calm. “I’ll wait in the car.” He did, not too quickly, but at a comfortable gait. That was Lockwood. Always so diplomatic.

  Obadiah rolled his shoulders, allowing the tension to leave him. “Why did you bring him with you?”

  “I can't drive yet and...” I threw a glance at the Maserati. “I mean, come on. Look at that car.”

  Obadiah glanced at Jedediah and after a moment, they both nodded. “It's a nice car,” Obadiah conceded, opening the door for us. “What of your vampire friend, Iona? She was the one who had come on your behalf last time, was she not? Her Beetle is no Maserati, admittedly...”

  “I don’t know where she is,” I said. “I am not my vampire sister’s keeper, after all.” Xandra smirked like I'd just told the funniest joke of all time.

  Obadiah was not in the mood for jokes. Jed, on the other hand, was grinning at me like I was some cool kid who had graced him with my presence.

  “So what brings you and your Fae driver to our humble doors?” Obadiah asked, folding his massive arms across the great width that was his chest. He gestured toward the back of the house. “Walk and talk, though – chickens aren't going to feed themselves.”

  I fell into step beside him. “Not sure if you got the news down here – or at all, really, but a certain werewolf caused a lockdown at my school yesterday.”

  I saw an immediate stiffening in Obadiah’s shoulders and Jed, who was following behind us, was staring up at his dad with wide, round eyes when I turned to check his reaction.