Candy Houses

by Shiloh Walker

  “No. Oh, no.”

  Her already bruised heart began to shatter. Her voice was thick with tears as she spoke. “Hey, sugar. Listen, we don’t have much time. I can help you—if you want to live, I can help. It can be weird, and may not be a lot of fun, especially at first. But I can help. You have to tell me you want to go. Do you want it?”

  It was law. No Hunter was allowed to bring another over unless the person wanted it. No, this woman didn’t entirely understand what Dakota was offering her, but if she wanted to live and if she was willing that was enough. Focusing, she waited.

  Hello. Screw acceptance—it was a demand.

  You help me, damn it. Now…

  From the roof, Bo saw the cop coming. Although he wasn’t surprised, he sure as hell was irritated. “Don’t need this mess.”

  There was a reason he preferred to leave the Hunters to themselves. They got involved in things they shouldn’t. They tried to save those they shouldn’t. They tried to help every damn body and half of them couldn’t even help themselves.

  Like Dakota, for instance. Poor girl, down there doing her best to save the cop’s girlfriend. Yeah, Bo knew who was in the apartment building. The woman didn’t live here, but her scent was all over the place. She was here, and she was here often. And because she was, he also smelled the cop.

  Dakota wasn’t to blame for a couple of ferals making a snack out of the pretty lady. She’d done her job, dealt with them. They wouldn’t kill another woman, another child.

  He was pissed off, and yeah, he did feel guilty some poor human had suffered for it. But that was the way of the world. Monsters preyed on the weak. Dakota would let the guilt eat her up, and because she had a connection to this victim, it would be that much worse.

  And here comes the cop. “I do not need this.” Leaping off the roof, Bo landed lightly on the fire escape on the floor below.

  Sighing, he ignored the sarcastic voice in his head reminding him that he didn’t have to be here. Yeah, he did. Dakota was a friend. She had trouble coming her way, trouble with a capital T. He didn’t leave friends hanging.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Hurry, hurry, hurry.

  It was a scream in his head, a song in his blood. Drew lived by his instincts. Like the time he had first seen Dakota— sauntering down the street, all sexy curves, feline smile and attitude. Instinct had demanded he follow, just as his instincts had screamed mine.

  Right now, his instincts screamed danger. They screamed death.

  Everything looked normal as he tore into the Hendersons’ apartment building. Nothing looked off. Nothing sounded off. But something was—the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, adrenaline crashed through him and every muscle inside him was loose, ready for action. His phone was silent. He had called Nicole twice on the way over. She always answered, at least when she wasn’t working.

  He knew this apartment building too well. One of the elevators never worked. The other was slower than smart, and it broke down often. He took the stairs. Five floors up—it only took him minutes, but it felt like years.

  Nic…

  The Hendersons lived at the very end, the two-bedroom apartment housing a family of four. Up until past fall, it had been a family of five. The oldest had run away and gotten involved with a criminal type. When she had tried to leave, the bastard that killed her. The family had proof of their daughter’s innocence, though, and they had gone to the cops.

  Was that why Nicole was here? He didn’t know. All he could think was…Be safe, please be safe. And because he didn’t trust that to be enough, he prayed silently, please, God, keep her safe.

  If any of those thugs had gotten to her, Drew was going to tear this town apart. He wouldn’t rest until every last one of them had been arrested and put behind bars.

  He reached the door, hesitating.

  He couldn’t wait. He knew that. He couldn’t wait… and neither could Nicole.

  Dakota heard the footsteps. More than that, she knew she wasn’t alone. Recognizing his scent, she ignored him. She couldn’t lose focus right now.

  “Come on, sweetheart. You need to take more.” She held her wrist to the woman’s mouth and when she fought to turn her head away, Dakota held it in a merciless grip. She hadn’t done this much to lose her now. The problem was that Dakota wasn’t overflowing with blood of her own.

  A master of the obvious, Bo decided to emerge from the shadows and point that out. “Baby, you know you haven’t fed enough to be doing this. You barely have enough blood to walk out of here.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Staring at the blonde’s face, she thought she saw a bit more response, some animation there. A split second later, she felt the response as the wounded woman started to draw on her wrist.

  Behind her, Bo sighed. A second later, the rich tang of shape-shifter blood filled the air and Bo’s wrist appeared in the center of her field of vision. “Feed, Dakota. You and me got about three minutes before we have company. And trust me, they aren’t bringing us tea and cookies, either.”

  “What…?” She scowled, but she wasn’t looking at him. Staring at the door, she narrowed her eyes.

  “Feed. Now. Her cop is on the way and what do you think he’s going to do when he sees this mess? I’ll deal with the bodies and I’ll handle the blood—throw enough chemical shit on it that no lab in the world is going to be able to get anything useful out of it, especially not vampire DNA. But you and her, you have to be gone…”

  She didn’t wait another second. As the woman fed from her, Dakota seized Bo’s wrist with her free hand and closed her mouth around the wound there. It was already healing, but that didn’t matter. Her fangs pierced his skin and the rich, ripe taste of his blood flooded her mouth.

  It wasn’t even a minute before Bo rested his other hand on her scalp. “Enough, baby. We didn’t have three minutes. Our time is up—that cop of yours is fast. And damn quiet for a human. He’s already on almost on this floor.”

  In under sixty seconds, Bo had scattered the chemicals needed to break down the vamp DNA. Another ten seconds wasted as he gathered the bodies of the dead vamps. In another fifteen seconds, he was out the window. Dakota gingerly pulled her wrist from the woman’s mouth, grimacing as she fought to continue feeding. Already hungry—that was a good sign, Dakota supposed. Showed strength.

  As she gathered the woman in her arms, she looked up and as Bo looked back through the window. “Go on. You need to be out of sight more than I do. I don’t have anything here to come back to, in the end. Your life is here, though.”

  He nodded. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  He was gone in another blink.

  Dakota started toward the door, cradling the whimpering woman in her arms. Soon, she’d fall into the deep, dark slumber that would dominate the next few hours. It would give them some time to get safe—and they needed to be safe—

  Shit.

  She heard the footsteps. And she could smell him.

  Don’t look, don’t look dontlookdontlook!

  Lunging through the window, she peered downward. Five stories. She could jump that. The door behind her opened. Foolishly, she glanced backward. Her heart leaped into her throat as she saw Drew. Their gazes locked.

  Then he looked down and saw the woman clutched in Dakota’s arms.

  As he pulled his gun, the shattered pieces of Dakota’s heart shriveled. There wasn’t anything even left to heal now. “Don’t move,” he warned.

  She shifted to the side, using her body to protect the woman she carried. And then she leaped.

  Still unable to believe what he’d seen, Drew took off running for the window. This wasn’t happening—

  He wasn’t going to find Dakota crouched on the fire escape, carrying a bloodied Nicole around like a ragdoll. It wasn’t happening—wasn’t, couldn’t be. He was seeing things…

  The fire escape was empty.

  Scrubbing a hand over his face, he turned and looked around. Maybe he was seeing things…?

  Exce
pt the Hendersons’ apartment was a bloody mess—very, very bloody. There was a faint, odd smell in the air—something like bleach, but not quite. Remaining by the window, he reached for his phone.

  He’d call this in. Then he’d call Nicole again.

  He hadn’t seen what he thought he’d seen.

  He hadn’t.

  If Dakota had been here, she’d either still be on the fire escape or if she’d been able to haul Nicole down the fire escape, he would have either seen her climbing down, or seen them both…no. He couldn’t even make himself think of that image.

  There was a logical explanation for all of this. There had to be. Nicole was at home, or she was out with a friend, or something…Dakota wouldn’t hurt anybody. She didn’t even know who Nicole was, right?

  There was a logical explanation, and he’d find it.

  Except there wasn’t one. And he couldn’t.

  Twenty-four hours passed and as those hours ticked by, Drew was aware of too many fucking weird things.

  All of the Hendersons were dead. The children had been killed in their sleep, the father’s head had been all but ripped off, and the mother had been raped, her throat practically torn open.

  Nicole was missing. Her phone, her coat, her keys, all of them had been found at the Hendersons’ apartment. Her car was parked outside, just down the block. When he tried to track down Dakota at her ‘security firm’ he’d been told she’d turned in her resignation early that morning, as well as relinquishing the key to the apartment they had furnished for her. They were terribly sorry but she hadn’t left a forwarding address, promising she’d come by to pick up any needed paperwork in a few weeks—was there any way they could take a message? Naturally, they told him, they’d cooperate in any way they could.

  Warning sirens were already screaming in his head.

  What in the hell is going on?

  Eyes gritty, head pounding, Drew pored over the lab reports, trying to understand what he was seeing. It was just a rough preliminary and it was likely about as conclusive as anything he was going to get, too.

  The blood that had been found in the living room was messed up. Contaminated with something, the techs had told him. Something similar to bleach—that made him think of what he’d smelled.

  But they couldn’t identify the compound. They also didn’t think they’d be able to process the blood. It was breaking down on them—it’s like sludge, Detective. We can’t even get a blood type—never seen anything like it.

  “You know, you can’t work this case.”

  Looking up, he met his lieutenant’s eyes. Then he looked back down at the reports. “I’m not working this case. I’m reading these reports. That’s not the same as working this case.”

  “Just like you calling and hassling the lab techs isn’t the same. Just like you going door to door isn’t investigating?” Anna Reid lifted a graying brow as she studied him. Sighing, she settled herself on the seat in front of his desk. “Drew, I know this is hard. But you can’t work this. And you need to take a few days off. Go home. Clear your head.”

  “I can’t.” He couldn’t clear his head…every time he even closed his eyes, he’d seen Nicole. Suffering—screaming. Shit, earlier, he’d dozed for maybe twenty minutes and had the most fucked-up nightmare. Dakota had been torturing her. Holding Nicole down on a bed—

  “I can’t.”

  “You don’t have a choice.” She rose from the chair, lingering for a moment. “Go home. Take a few days. I promise, if there’s anything new, I’ll call you.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Go home.

  Yeah. She could make him go home, all right.

  But the lieutenant couldn’t make him stay. After another one of those fucked up dreams hit him, Drew left. Driving around aimlessly. Until he wasn’t—until he realized he had a direction. On a road heading north out of North Carolina.

  Drew didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he had to go somewhere. He stayed off the highway, sticking to the smaller roads. When he came across a small town, he figured he’d stop and get some gas, maybe grab a bite to eat although he wasn’t hungry.

  But instead of searching for a gas station, he found himself slowing down in front of the small hotel. He wasn’t sure why.

  It didn’t look like much. The units were set up in groups of twos or threes.

  The beds would be rock hard, the water pressure would suck, but it would be cheap.

  “What in the hell am I doing here?” What he needed to be doing was calling his lieutenant, seeing if there was any progress. Or maybe heading back to town and doing his own investigating. He could stay out of the way. Nobody had to know what he was doing.

  Instead of doing any of that, he turned into the parking lot of the little hotel.

  Because he knew he needed to, though, as he parked his car, he grabbed his phone. A quick call to his boss, Anna Reid would only take a couple minutes. And he suspected if he didn’t call, it would make her suspicious. He didn’t want that.

  “Lieutenant.” He climbed out of the car and shut the door, leaning against it as he studied the hotel. It looked even more humble up close. “Has there been anything new? Have we found Nicole yet?”

  “Sorry, Quentin…there’s nothing new. She hasn’t been seen or heard from. You know I would call you if I had news.”

  “Yeah. You know I can’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs either, waiting for you to call me. I had to at least check.”

  “Yeah. I was surprised you hadn’t already called. I was getting kind of worried—thinking you were out doing something stupid.” She paused. “You don’t plan on doing something stupid, do you, Drew?”

  He ran his tongue along his teeth. Something stupid? Hell. He just might be getting ready to do that. He didn’t know. His skin was itching something awful and his instincts were screaming.

  “Nah, I want to keep my badge. Keep in touch.”

  He ended the call and tucked the phone in his pocket. Blowing out a breath, he started toward the office. Although he had no clue what he was going to say once he got in there. Hello… I’m a cop. I live a few hours away from here and the night before last, I broke up with my sort-of-girlfriend and less than an hour later I saw her hauling my other sort-of-girlfriend’s body out of the window of an apartment. They disappeared right in front of me. Nobody has seen them almost forty-eight hours. Now I don’t know why I’m here. But I feel like I’m supposed to be. Any idea why?

  Yeah, that would get somebody’s attention. Just not the kind he needed.

  Okay, so he wouldn’t mention the fact that Dakota had disappeared from a five-story building carrying a woman who had weighed almost as much as she had. She hadn’t fallen, because they would’ve found bodies. He kept that fact quiet from his fellow officers—he would keep it quiet now. He would just go with some official line, investigating a missing persons case… yadda yadda yadda—seen anything suspicious?

  No reason to get descriptive at all.

  As he stepped inside the office, the stale stink of cigarette smoke wrapped around him like a cloying, embrace. It was going to cling to him, too. Sighing, he moved to stand at the desk.

  As the older man ambled through a door behind the counter, Drew rested his hands on the old, stained wood. It was clean, though, cleaned and polished to a mirror shine. There was a smudged fingerprint there. Absently he brushed his thumb across the small smear. When he did, his elbow bumped into a cup of pens, knocking them over.

  “Sorry.” He shot the owner an apologetic glance and scooped up the pens on the counter. Then he crouched down and gathered the pens that had rolled onto the floor. That was when he saw it. If he hadn’t bent down on his knees, he never would have.

  A piece of paper, maybe a receipt. Folded into a neat triangle, roughly the size of the end joint of his thumb.

  She could never be still. For some reason, it had always charmed him. That wild, crazy energy she had inside her.

  The little folded triangle lying on t
he floor could have been left there by anybody. Logically, Drew knew that. But as he picked it up, that itch along his spine got worse, and his blood roared in his ears.

  Slowly, he stood. The hotel manager was at the counter now, a friendly smile on his face. But it faded when Drew pulled out his shield and laid it on the counter.

  “Officer. Can I help you?”

  “Detective.” His hands were sweating, he realized. His hands were sweating, his heart was racing, and he felt more than a little sick. Dakota…was she here? How could she have hurt Nicole? How did Dakota even know about her? “I’m looking for a woman who might be one of your guests. She’s about 5’3, mid-thirties, long, dark brown hair. She would have checked in yesterday or today. Have you seen her?”

  Something flickered in the man’s eyes. He was good—very good. But Drew saw it, that flash, there and then gone again.

  With a smile, the man said, “Naturally, Detective, I want to help. But I have a responsibility to my guests as well. You’ll need to give me some sort of warrant before I can tell you anything.”

  Still gripping that small piece of paper, Drew returned the man’s smile. Then, without a word, he left the hotel’s office. The man had already told Drew everything he needed to know. The rest, Drew figured he’d just take a look around and see if he couldn’t find those answers for himself.

  Sick at heart, tired and hungry, Dakota rose from the floor. Nicole was sleeping on the bed, if her restlessness could be called sleep. The fever had come on her yesterday, the Change hitting hard and fast.

  As hungry as Dakota was, Nicole needed to feed. Drawing her knees to her chest, Dakota pressed her face against them. “I’m not equipped to handle this.”

  She had never brought anybody over. She knew the basics. After all, she had gone through this herself, and all of the Hunters were taught—they had to be, in case they ever had to make a choice like this. Ideally, this would’ve been done in a better place. A more controlled environment. Too bad life didn’t happen under ideal circumstances.