by H. M Reilly
CHAPTER 13
Patrick could feel something had changed since before finding Thalia murdered. It wasn’t just the hunter in town; Patrick could feel some shift of energies in the air. With all the years of experience behind him, he could feel the slightest change, even if he couldn’t always pinpoint it. Something or someone of an inhuman influence was nearby. He knew it was not Ramsey, his oldest rival, a vampire who had not appeared anywhere Sequoia or Hollow’s Creek in years. He would recognize Ramsey, and his energy would be much more powerful. No, this supernatural energy felt familiar yet foreign all at once.
He still didn’t understand what it was that had been making his darker side so aggressive. After lifetimes of dealing with the demon, centuries even, he had an idea. Every supernatural he met influenced him, but when there were other demons in his presence, his aggression grew wild. Fortunately, he hadn’t crossed many demons. At least none other than his own mother and a small handful who had clawed their way from the pits of hell. And dear Lucifer didn’t just let his slaves escape easily. There was no other demon as powerful as himself, and he knew there never would be unless the day came when he finally crossed paths with the father of lies himself.
He confided in Lana, seeking solace, and she too felt the shift, but it was much too faint for her to identify. The energy was, however, strong enough to affect Patrick’s own supernatural balance. Most of the time, he felt in control of the darkness he held hidden beneath the surface, but now he felt more unpredictable. Being the incubus he was, there was one of two ways was he could settle that unpredictability.
He started with a bottle of Irish whiskey, but the alcohol was only so effective against the darkness buzzing in his veins. The more he consumed, the stronger his darkened mood grew. He needed another way to clear the jumbled thoughts and energy from his mind, but first, he needed to make a quick stop at the Cavern.
By the time Patrick arrived at the Viper's Cavern, he still felt restless in a way he wasn’t familiar with, and with that feeling came the difficulty to control his darkness. As a demon, he would never be completely able to handle most of his emotions – not that he experienced many. The thoughts and energies of others around him fed his own energy, especially those with supernatural blood. For a moment, right after he walked through the door, he could feel the remnants of something or someone in the Cavern. He felt this on other nights in the past week, but tonight he was fully aware of whatever this creature left behind. But he still couldn’t place it.
Pulsing heartbeats, steady breathing, and magical energies hovered through the air. He caught the eye of his silver-haired bartender and looked into her violet eyes. A crooked grin appeared across her lips when she caught a glimpse of him.
“Lana,” he said, passing by the bar. He went toward the small storage room hiding just a few feet away and ducked inside. Lana stepped away and followed Patrick, the click of her heels drowned out by the bumping music flowing from the speakers through the club.
“Patrick…always a pleasure to see you in,” she said. She leaned against the door frame, watching him search the shelves of the dimly lit storage room. He grabbed a clipboard and flipped on the light switch. Maybe all he needed was to busy his buzzing mind, even if it wouldn’t settle his dark feelings.
“It has been a while since I’ve been here to grace you with my presence.” He lifted his dark amber gaze briefly, a ghost of a grin appearing across his lips. He went back to his search, finding a box sitting in the corner. His stock of Irish whiskey. Lana rolled her eyes, turning when her name floated through the room.
“Only you, Patrick.”
Lana went back to tending bar, pouring another whiskey sour for the man sitting atop the nearest stool. When Patrick emerged from the storage room, he held a bottle of top-shelf Irish whiskey in one hand and the clipboard in the other.
“Only me? Now whatever could ya be referring to, love?”
“You already know, boss.”
“Ooo…so formal. Calling me boss,” he said. He glanced over the papers in front of him, setting the bottle of whiskey down. He twisted the cap off the bottle and brought it to his lips for a drink.
“You are my boss, Patrick.”
“Ya know I can’t stand all the formalities, Lana. Make sure you get the inventory completed tonight. I want this on my desk tomorrow night.”
“Of course. Julio is coming in to help me with that tonight,” she said. He could have done all that work himself, but he still felt unsettled and restless, even after killing that woman from the bar. He had much on his mind, and being at the bar would not help.
“Been busy tonight?”
“The usual, you could say.”
“I’m heading out for the night. Is there anything you need from me?”
The young female looked in his direction with a quirked brow. “Already? It’s still early.”
“I’m aware of the time, Lana.”
“Um. No. I’m good, but I’ll call if anything comes up, boss,” she said with a final glance in Patrick’s direction.
Patrick exited from behind the bar with his bottle of whiskey clutched close. He glanced over the rest of the large room. Music flowed through the crowd as they moved on the dance floor. He took in a deep breath; the scents of copper and lust tainted the room. A brief look of satisfaction appeared across his lips. It felt like any other night as those around him danced, drank, and otherwise indulged in their chosen pleasures.
He cracked open his bottle and turned down the corridor toward the back of the building. Patrick took a detour into his office and opened the safe, taking the bank deposit with him. He then slipped the bottle of whiskey into one of the pockets and headed out the back door, climbing into his car. His eyes darkened with a flickering lash of crimson in his eyes.
He drove across down with the windows rolled down, letting the cool night air into his car. The air felt good against his skin, which was always warm with the fire inside his veins. He drove with no particular place in mind, taking another drink from the bottle of whiskey he’d placed on the passenger’s seat.
His mind buzzed with alcohol. The sounds of a local club floated into the night when he pulled up to a red light. The loud music grasped his attention as he sat waiting to move, and once the light flashed green, he sped forward and flipped a bitch to head to the bar. Maybe he could stir up some trouble and cause a little chaos.
The parking was heavy with trucks, any of them were decorated with mud splatters across the sides. When he made it to the front door and peeked through the window, he found many people seated at tables laughing, enjoying each other’s company. A small bar stood in the far corner. He took a glance down at himself with his black button-down shirt, slacks, and boots. With a shrug, he went inside.
Human bars weren’t what they used to be. In the past, he was greeted with clouds of cigarette smoke hanging in the room. Now, smoking indoors was prohibited just about everywhere, leaving the air clean. He didn’t understand it himself, but he didn’t need to smoke to cause trouble. He made his way across the room to the bar, where he found a few people enjoying their drinks. He could almost smell the intoxication oozing from their pores, but that isn’t what he was looking for.
He found that in a beautiful woman. Patrick knew from the moment he laid eyes on her that she was feeling alone and unwanted tonight, but by reading her thoughts, he knew she was not alone. Her boyfriend was somewhere else in the bar. He didn’t care, but she was, however, exactly what Patrick needed to soothe the darkness that lay deep within him. He smiled to himself and approached.
“Well, hello, love,” he said. She gave him a smile in greeting. His eyes lowered to the clear drink sitting in the glass close to her chest. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but you seem to have one already.”
She laughed and glanced at her drink. “I do, but I could always use another. This is almost empty.”
Patrick caught the attention of the bartender and ordered himself a whiskey, letting the wom
an choose what she wanted. A fruity sex on the beach. He grabbed a stool and sat beside her while they waited.
“I’ve never seen you around here before,” she said. The bartender set down their drinks a moment later, and the woman played with the little red straw before lifting the glass for a sip.
“I’m not much for the bar scene since I manage my own,” he said, lifting his own glass to his lips.
The following moments flashed by in a manner of seconds.
“What are you doing with my woman?” A strong human hand landed on his shoulder, and the woman squealed what sounded like a name, but the sound passed too quickly. Patrick turned to see a large man standing there, a fist coming straight for him, but ducked. He then returned the favor, landing his own fist square against his attacker’s nose. Blood splattered across Patrick’s face and on the bar. The force of the punch caught the attacker off guard, and he stumbled.
The second time, the attacker successfully punched Patrick in the face, but he wasn’t standing long. Patrick threw another punch and hit his attacker square in the jaw. Yells came from across the room as the attacker fell to the floorboards. He lifted a hand to his bloodied nose, finding dark blood on his fingertips as the bouncer came running towards the fight. Patrick felt satisfied by the night’s events so far, but the best part for him was the woman who followed him out the front door.
“I can’t believe you did that! He’s such a pig,” she said. “I’m sure he was screwing another woman in the bathroom.”
“It was nothing. You don’t deserve that kind of treatment, and he shouldn’t have attacked me.” He spit blood on the pavement. Sirens sounded down the street, and with a quick glance around, Patrick took the woman’s hand, quickly leading her away. It would be too late to find him once the bouncers realized he was gone.
Patrick sped away in his black convertible, taking the highway up the mountains towards his home in Sequoia. He didn’t even mind the woman’s hand laying over his as he drove. Full of alcohol and lust, tonight, the only thing that would sate his darkness was the feeling inside a warm human female.
“Don’t be afraid. It’ll only hurt for a moment.” His voice was only a whisper. The brogue coloring his speech rolled over his tongue and crawled down her spine. He let out a quick gasp of air, resembling something like the hiss of a cat. However, the hiss passing his lips was much more preternatural than anything of this world. His mouth widened, and a row of razor-sharp teeth extended into place.
Patrick’s eyes were pitch black, soulless voids. The attractive man that the demon hid within was now unrecognizable. That red flame flashed momentarily across his eyes as he lifted his hand, which was now deformed into a set of inhuman claws. He dug his claws into her flesh as he gripped her torso. He dug his claws deeper into her hips, pulling her in closer. She let out a frightened cry. He whispered in her ear, his voice hardly more than a growl.
“I’m not going to kill you. Not now. I’m not done with you yet.”
A scream shattered the silence of the night. Crimson spilled across the sheets as another muffled scream rumbled through the woman beneath him.
Patrick left her nearly lifeless on the bed when he reached for the bottle of whiskey on the bedside table and left the room, shutting the door behind him. The façade of a man he presented slowly reappeared as he lifted the bottle to his lips. John would be back in the morning to clean his mess.
CHAPTER 14
Charlotte glanced up from her desk to look out the window. A bundle of scattered clouds floated through the bright blue sky, but the wind slithered through the air, rattling the branches of the apple tree standing outside her window. Most of the leaves had fallen from the branches, and the colors of the remaining leaves had faded from yellow to bright oranges and reds; autumn had finally settled into Hollow's Creek. She hoped the weather would stay this nice for an enjoyable day off.
She set down the tube of mascara in her hand and grabbed her cell phone, glancing at Leila. With only a couple of weeks before Charlotte's birthday, she and Adriana were making plans. Adriana and Rob were planning to drive up the weekend of Halloween to celebrate. As she backed out of her text messages, she hesitated when she saw Michael's name and set her phone back down. “Are you almost ready, Leila?”
“Yes,” Leila mumbled, focused on lining her lips a bright pink color. Charlotte turned her attention back to her makeup bag and traded her mascara for a bottle of foundation, moving on to finish her makeup. They didn't have too much longer before they needed to leave for their tattoo appointment.
The late morning air wasn't nearly as cold as the blowing wind sounded, but the two girls grabbed their hoodies before heading out the door. Charlotte cranked up the stereo, cruising down the highway. They only stopped once to fill the truck up. The cashier waiting at the front sat on a stool near the cigarette shelves. She held an unfamiliar book in her hands, yet another smutty romance novel with a long-haired beau hunk and a woman clinging to him on the cover.
Leila set her snack down on the counter beside her sister's, and the older woman put her book face down on the counter, moving over to the register. A tiger's eye necklace hung around her neck. “Let me get ten on pump five.”
"Your eyes," the cashier whispered.
How many times had Charlotte heard someone make a comment about her eyes? Even distant relatives seemed caught off guard by the unique color of her eyes, but most of the time, she brushed off the comment. She never knew how to respond.
She stepped away from the counter, telling the cashier to keep the change, then headed out the door, leaving Leila to grab their bag of snacks and drinks. When she glanced over at her younger sister, Leila was unwrapping her cinnamon bear claw.
When they arrived in town, she parked her truck a few blocks away from the shop. Despite the gentle breeze blowing through the streets, the weather appeared much nicer than back up in Hollow’s Creek. A handful of people strolled the streets with their shopping bags in one hand and fancy coffees in the other.
She and Leila walked up the sidewalk, taking their time window shopping since they would still be arriving early. They even stopped in the coffee shop, sitting on the corner for cold drinks. They passed a shoe store, and Leila pointed out a pair of red pumps she liked, although she would prefer them in pink. Charlotte could see them in a black.
Charlotte’s attention was focused on a leather purse in another shop when she turned away. Her mind still wondering what the price tag was when she bumped into someone on the sidewalk, almost spilling her drink. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean t—Michael.”
“Charlotte. What are you doing in town? Figured you’d be at work.”
“Who's this?” Leila said. Charlotte glanced at her, shaking her head.
“No. I’m off today,” she said. “Not that it's your business.”
“Well, maybe I missed you," he said. Leila made an unamused sound and stepped aside, making her way into the nearby clothing store. Charlotte was thankful her sister left. She didn't want Leila hearing about a secret piece of her personal life.
“Yeah. Sure, Michael,” she said. He only shrugged in response. “Anyways. I have plans with my sister.”
“That was your sister? I didn't know.”
“That's none of your business either,” she said. She stepped to the side and walked around him, getting Leila's attention as she tried to avoid Michael. Leila exited the shop, and the two of them made their way up the sidewalk.
“What plans? Maybe I can join?” he said. Traffic cleared, and the girls made their way across the street with Michael following close behind. When they stepped through the front door of the tattoo shop, a younger man with bright green hair greeted them at the counter. The buzzing needle of a tattoo machine vibrated over the calm instrumental music floating in the air. Leila stepped over to the nearby coffee table, opening one of the portfolios. “What can I do for ya?”
“I’m here to see Judd. Me and my sister have an appointment.”
“
Sure thing.” He turned away from the counter and disappeared to the other end of the shop. Charlotte turned her attention to her sister just as Michael had a seat on the couch. Leila scooted down and called her sister over to join her. "Do you know what you're gonna get, Charlie?"
"I was gonna get a rose. Probably just black and gray."
"Black rose? Why?" Michael asked. “You do know what a black rose means, right?”
"It's just a tattoo. Don't you have something better to do than bother me?"
“Come on, babe.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said. A moment later, a man with a full dirty blond beard dressed in jeans and an old band shirt walked out to the lobby area. Charlotte rose from the couch and introduced herself and her sister.
“Of course. Did you know what you want to start today? Or did you want to talk about some ideas first?”
“No, I think I know what I wanted. We can start today.”
“I have my other artist available, Steve.” He gestured towards the man with the green hair. “If one of you wanted to get done by him.”
“I'd be cool with that.”
“Cool. Lemme get you to both to sign some paperwork, then we can head back to my chair. I'm going to need to see your licenses,” he said. The girls handed them over as Judd went to grab a couple of papers and pens for them. “Okay. I'll be in the back when you two are ready.”
As Charlotte and Leila went to the coffee table to finish their paperwork, Judd handed back their licenses. Michael sat nearby, playing on his phone. Charlotte glanced over at him after handing in her paper. “Don’t you have something better to do?”