OTHER TITLES BY H.P. MALLORY
THE DULCIE O’NEIL SERIES:
TO KILL A WARLOCK
A TALE OF TWO GOBLINS
GREAT HEXPECTATIONS
WUTHERING FRIGHTS
MALICE IN WONDERLAND
FOR WHOM THE SPELL TOLLS
H.P. MALLORY
ELEVEN SNIPERS SNIPING
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2013 H.P. Mallory
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eISBN: 9781477869802
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CONTENTS
ELEVEN SNIPERS SNIPING
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ELEVEN SNIPERS SNIPING
There were only a couple of weeks until Christmas.
Ordinarily, I don’t care much about the holidays, but this year was a little different. This year would mark the first time I wouldn’t be spending the holidays alone. Instead, I intended to ring in the yuletide with a hot, little, and very sexy number. This hot, little, and very sexy number, otherwise known as fairy and law enforcement agent Dulcie O’Neil, has been screwing with my heart for at least the last year and a half. So you can imagine my relief when I finally was able to call her my own—well, call her my own as much as she’d allow for, anyway. Dulcie has, in one word, trust issues. Guess that’s two words.
“How about this scent, sir?” the lady behind the perfume counter cooed up at me. She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously and held up a glass bottle next to her face. She smiled vacantly at me for a few seconds and then pumped the spritzer into the air, nearly blinding herself in the process while choking me with a stream of what smelled like cotton candy. I coughed, then cleared my throat and took a few steps away, swiping the air with my hand. Thinking I ought to give the perfume one more chance to impress me, I leaned over and inhaled just as the woman took a few steps toward me. Less than three inches of heavily perfumed air separated us. Not wanting to give her the idea that I was interested in her, because frankly, I wasn’t, I backed up and crossed my arms over my chest, hoping she was good at reading body language. It was beyond obvious that she was interested in me—she was about as subtle as an unspayed cat in heat.
I shook my head. “It’s too sweet, and she’s not exactly the sweet type,” I finished with a laugh as Dulcie’s piercing green eyes came to mind. They were usually narrowed at me, into some form of suspicious expression. Dulcie definitely wasn’t the sweet type—more of the nail-your-ass-to-the-wall type, but you’d undoubtedly enjoy every second of the nailing.
“She’s not the sweet type?” the woman crooned up at me, wetting her fuchsia-colored lips with her tongue. “I hope she’s sweet to such a handsome…” She looked me up and down, grinning salaciously, and was apparently pleased with what she saw. “To such a handsome man as you,” she finished.
I chuckled and shook my head. “I can’t say she’s ever been exactly sweet to me.” But Dulcie’s passionate nature was one of the reasons I loved her so much. Well, really, it was one of a long list of reasons. As far as I was concerned, Dulcie O’Neil was the perfect woman.
I watched the woman raise her flawlessly stenciled eyebrows in obvious disapproval while her mouth twitched as if she wanted to say something more but didn’t want to offend me. With her hair pulled back into a tight bun, her milk-white skin, and her black smock, she looked like an animated corpse. And even though I’m a creature of the Netherworld myself (I’m a Loki, soldier of the Netherworld, and forged from the fires of Hades), I never could develop a taste for the undead.
“Your girlfriend isn’t even sweet to you?” the woman continued, batting her eyelashes so rapidly, they looked like they might drop off her face and fly away.
“Nope, and that’s exactly the way I like her,” I interrupted, the smile vanishing from my lips. And it was the goddamned truth. Dulcie was anything but sweet, and anything but typical. She was strong, opinionated, confident, loyal, and incredibly good at her job. I would know, given that I’d been her boss—well, in a manner of speaking, I still was. Truthfully, Dulcie was everything I’d ever wanted in a woman and then some, which was why I had to have her.
“Okay, so if she isn’t sweet,” the woman started, shaking her head as if becoming annoyed with our conversation, “what is she?”
“Sexy,” I answered immediately as the woman frowned. “The sexiest woman I’ve ever met,” I continued, before my phone started vibrating in my pocket. Glancing at the caller ID, I recognized Headquarters (otherwise known as the Association of Netherworld Creatures, or the ANC). Damn it all! As head of the ANC here in Splendor, California, I found it impossible to step outside the office without someone needing me.
“Knightley Vander,” I said into the receiver. I nodded to the woman just to let her know I needed to take the call.
“It’s me,” came Dulcie’s irritated voice on the other line. At first, I wondered why she hadn’t just called me on her own phone, but then I remembered how I insisted that she own and use a company phone for work. I had to admit that part of me was surprised she’d even listened to my advice.
The woman behind the counter immediately broke into a smile as she studied me from head to toe. She tapped her index finger against her lips seductively. “Knightley Vander…What a fitting name for you, sir.”
I just smiled at what I figured was a compliment before Dulcie interrupted my attempts at common courtesy. “Where the hell are you?”
“Well, hello to you too, oh love of my life,” I answered, unable to conceal my smile. Truth be told, one of the things I enjoyed most about Dulcie was her fiery personality. Talk about ruffling a man’s feathers…
“Don’t get all lovey-dovey with me,” she responded, and I knew she was standing with one hip jutted out to the side, like she did whenever she gave me attitude. “You know how much it bugs me.”
I chuckled because she was right; I did know how much displays of over-the-top affection annoyed her, which was exactly the reason I encouraged them so much. “Noted, smalls. What can I do you for?”
She sighed, sounding exasperated. “Why aren’t you checking your phone? I’ve texted you probably four times and called you twice.”
I shook my head, still unable to pry the smile off my lips. I didn’t know exactly what it was about this woman, but she always knew how to push all of my buttons. In a good way. “If you really want to know, my love, I was Christmas shopping…for you, and I wanted to be left alone, so I turned my ringer off.”
She grumbled something unintelligible, but then cleared her throat. “Anyway…we have a situation developing, so you need to get your ass down here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I started, figuring the situation couldn’t have been that important; otherwise, I would have been notified by more people than just Dulcie. Or maybe she was just the first on the scene…“What’s going on?”
“Looks like the Christmas sniper’s been at it again,” she said with a sigh. I could hear the heels of her boots against the concrete as she paced in frustration.
&n
bsp; “Shit,” I said as I glanced back at the perfume lady and shook my head, mouthing, “Thank you” to let her know I had bigger fish to fry, or snipers to catch, as the case might be. The woman puffed out her lower lip in obvious disappointment, but I didn’t wait to find out what other pouty tricks she had up her sleeve. I was already heading for my black Yukon Denali, which was parked just outside of Macy’s. “I’m on my way, Dulcie. Where are you?”
“At No Regrets,” she said before taking a deep breath. “Well, where No Regrets used to be, before it closed down.” I tried not to read into her dejection. No Regrets, which had been a very popular dance club, used to be run by a vampire, Bram. It was more than apparent that Bram had harbored affections for Dulcie, although she’d never returned them. They did share some form of friendship, though. However, any friendship between them was strained when we all found out Bram was involved in the illegal-potions industry. After that discovery, he skipped town; a week or so later, No Regrets was No Entry—as in all its windows and doors were boarded up. I couldn’t say I mourned the loss. As far as Bram was concerned, I considered him a royal pain in my ass, partly because he walked the fence between law abiding and not, but mostly because I didn’t appreciate his constant advances toward Dulcie.
“Roger that, baby,” I said, unlocking the driver’s door with my remote.
“Knight, we’ve talked about this a zillion times,” Dulcie started, and I could tell her teeth were gritting. “Don’t call me baby.”
I took a seat behind the wheel, closed the door, and started the truck, smiling all the while. I could tell I was going to be in for a heap of shit from Dulcie, but I couldn’t say I really cared. For as much as she ruffled my feathers, I enjoyed ruffling hers…“I’ll be there momentarily,” I answered.
“Come around the back; that’s where everyone is,” she finished. “And for Hades’s sake, step on the gas!”
I chuckled and backed out of my parking spot, peeling through the parking lot until I hit the street. Taking a right, I stepped on the gas and took the truck up to sixty in a forty-five-mile-per-hour zone. Sometimes it was good to be the law. “Tell me you love me.”
“Knight, I don’t have time for this crap. There’re a million people here, and I’m still in the process of finding out what the hell is going on,” she answered before her voice sounded echoey and she seemed to be answering someone’s question.
“I wanna hear it, Dulcie,” I said with a smile. Her voice alone had a pronounced effect on me. I was instantly turned on at the same time that I was ready and eager for verbal sparring.
“I’m going to hang up on you.”
I sighed and shook my head, enjoying every second of her discomfort. “Damn, what a shame…Guess I’m gonna have to slow down to forty-five. Don’t want to speed.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “You have no idea how irritating you can be.”
“But you can’t seem to stop yourself from being incredibly attracted to and turned on by me—just admit it.”
She was quiet for a few seconds and sounded muffled again as she apparently answered someone else’s question. “Knight, I don’t have time for this,” she insisted.
“Admit it,” I persevered.
“You know, sometimes I’m amazed that you’re head of this branch!” she faux-yelled at me. “I should report you for failing to take your position seriously.”
“You could,” I responded, then paused for dramatic effect. “But then you’d run the risk of some other asshole becoming your boss.”
“You’re not my boss,” she barked.
I smiled triumphantly. “Last I checked, I was the head of the Splendor branch and you were the lead regulator.” A regulator was basically Netherworld jargon for cop. “And the time before last that I checked, regulators all reported to the head.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Don’t do it, Dulcie…,” I teased with a smile. “I might have to write you up.”
The suddenness of the dial tone droned in my ears as my grin widened.
When I pulled into the parking lot at the rear of No Regrets, I immediately noticed the swarm of people. The coroner’s white Ford van was the first vehicle to catch my attention, and also answered one of my lingering questions—had anyone been killed in the attack? Apparently, at least one person had. A group of three human detectives entered my line of sight—they were busily discussing what I could only assume was the case with four of my own guys.
Even though Netherworld creatures were out of the proverbial closet, and humans knew of our existence, human and Netherworld law enforcement units were kept strictly separate. Usually, human cops left us the hell alone because they were ill equipped to deal with the speed of a vampire, the strength of a werewolf, or the many other abilities of the various creatures that inhabit the Netherworld. As to why these human cops were involving themselves in this case, I didn’t know. That was, of course, unless the victim was of human persuasion. Hopefully, that wasn’t the case, because it wouldn’t bode well for us. It was best to keep humans out of our business; as long as we avoided humans and vice versa, we could continue to live under their radar. Or so I hoped.
I opened my door and pulled the key from the ignition as soon as its persistent beeping reminded me that it was still there.
“Took you long enough to get here!” Dulcie announced as I turned toward her, smiling all the while. She did nothing but frown. “What? Did you stop for coffee along the way?”
“I forgot if you wanted sugar or cream,” I answered with a smug smile as I couldn’t stop my eyes from raking her up and down. Just as I anticipated, she was standing there with her hips cocked and her hands on either side of them, scowling at me. She was every ounce as sexy as she was irritated. When it came to height, Dulcie missed the boat. She was short—maybe five foot or so, which to my six foot five appears almost miniature. But even though she was little, she more than made up for it with her tempestuous personality.
“I’m not amused,” she answered, jutting her chin out. “Are you ready to play the role of detective now?”
I looked her up and down and shook my head. “Give me a couple more minutes to enjoy the view.”
She shook her head and exhaled, which only made her ample breasts stick out even farther. She was dressed in her uniform of dark navy blue, fitted pants, and an equally fitted white button-up blouse that did nothing to hide her curves. She held a clipboard with papers and a pen tucked underneath the clasp and her cell phone in her other hand. With her golden hair cascading over her shoulders and falling to her elbows, her plump lips, a barbed tongue, and a body lethal to any straight man, she always had been my dream woman…and then some. Luckily for me, I knew how to tame the lioness.
“When you feel like earning your keep, lemme know,” she answered with narrowed eyes. She turned on her heel and marched away, allowing me to feast on her round, but very firm butt. Hmm, maybe I hadn’t tamed the lioness quite as much as I’d originally thought.
With another smile, I jogged until I caught up with her and allowed her to lead me to the crime scene, now delineated by yellow tape surrounding the perimeter of the parking lot of No Regrets. Intended to keep the public away from the area, the tape was stretched across both entrances to the parking lot. It was tied from a telephone pole at the corner of the lot to a tree at the far end and then wrapped around the side mirror of a car parked between the pole and the tree. “So what’s the deal with the human cops I saw earlier?” I asked, figuring it was time to act the position of head of the ANC Splendor.
Dulcie didn’t even bother glancing back at me but answered over her shoulder. “They just happened to be in the area, so they came to inquire what the hell happened.”
“Then the victim wasn’t human?” I double-checked.
“No,” she answered, and added an extra sashay to her hips as she walked. I wasn’t sure if her little hip sway was intentional or not, but I found my line of sight fixed on her nether regions.
; “Do we know who the victim is?” I asked, forcing my attention from her shapely backside as she stopped walking and turned around to fully face me. She crossed her arms over her breasts and regarded me suspiciously.
“No,” she responded, throwing me a snide look before dropping her arms to her sides, which made her breasts bounce enthusiastically. Damn it all! The woman had no idea what she did to me…“We don’t have a read on her yet. She had no identification on her—no wallet, no phone, which could mean the attacker stripped her of anything identifiable. We’re running her fingerprints at any rate.”
“Why do you think this is the work of the Christmas sniper?” I asked. The “Christmas sniper” was the name we’d given to a killer who, as of yet, still remained anonymous. The Christmas cards left at each scene were the only detail connecting the nine killings.
“We found this,” she said as she pulled something free from the clasp of her clipboard and handed it to me. It was a Christmas card. On the cover was a picture of a cartoon Christmas tree with various cartoon men dressed in German-looking short shorts with suspenders and red pointy hats while they clutched what looked like red megaphones in their hands. “Eleven pipers piping,” Dulcie said.
“Ah,” I answered as I nodded, the weird German cartoon characters now making sense. “Pipes, that’s what those things are supposed to be?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as I shook my head and glanced over at her. “Looks like eleven Germans megaphoning.”
“Germans megaphoning?” Dulcie laughed. “What does that even mean?”
I shrugged. “Hey, I’m not the one who drew the damned thing!”
“Anyway,” Dulcie started, and then shook her head, but I could tell she was still amused. “We do have a case to work on, or have you already forgotten?” She then raised a brow at me as if I were an unruly child and she my incredibly hot teacher. And, yes, as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I had to let it continue to cross my mind…
“Hello, Knight. Are you in there?” she insisted, and even waved her hand in front of my eyes. “Earth to Knightley Vander!”
Eleven Snipers Sniping (A Short Story) (12 Days of Christmas series Book 11) Page 1