Dead-tective Box Set (Vampire Mystery-Romance)

by Flynn, Mac

  Simone gave a nod. "She said she gave the other half to another friend, and if I ever wanted to find her I'd have to consult a medium."

  "A medium what?" I asked her.

  Simone rolled her eyes. "A medium is one who consults the dead. Whoever has the other piece is dead."

  I glanced at Vince. "Tim?" I suggested to him.

  He pursed his lips and pocketed the clue. "We must hope not, or Ruthven will have a hold of it," he pointed out.

  "If that's all you need me from then I better get going," Simone spoke up. "It's a long ride to where I have to go."

  "What if we need to find you again?" I asked her.

  She shrugged. "I don't have anything else to give you, so it doesn't matter. Anyway, good luck on finding the other half. Oh, and if you see Ruthven, give him a black eye for me, will you? He deserves more for killing Hilda, but I'm not keeping my fingers crossed that anyone can do anymore than that to him."

  "We will try our best," Vince promised.

  "Good." Simone turned away from us and flew down the lonely road toward the horizon.

  I turned my attention to Vince and lowered my voice. "You think we should stop her?"

  He shook his head. "No. She is telling the truth."

  I sighed and nodded at his pocket. "So through all this trouble that's all we have to go on? A half a piece of a card?"

  "If it were easy Ruthven would have solved the puzzle," he pointed out.

  I shifted and winced when my aching body protested the movement. "I wouldn't call anything we've done these last few nights 'easy.' How'd we get out of that Underground, anyway?"

  "There was a nearby manhole in the alley, and we escaped through there. Field ordered his werewolves to follow, and you saw them dispatched by me," he explained.

  My jaw dropped to the ground. "That Field guy's still alive?"

  Vince nodded. "Very much so."

  I glared down at my ring. "This thing isn't very good against the real tough guys, is it?"

  "You were near death, and were fortunate your powers knocked him back as far as you did," Vince argued.

  I slyly grinned at him. "It was a good swing, though, wasn't it?" Vince surprised me when sat beside me. His red eyes swept over my face with unnerving seriousness. "What? What'd I do now?"

  "You risked your life to save me," he pointed out.

  I turned away to hide my blushing cheeks and shrugged. "You did the same for me at Hilda's place," I reminded him.

  "Thank you."

  I whipped my head back to him and blinked. He stared back with a softness to his eyes I'd never seen before. "Did you. . .did you just thank me again?"

  Vince straightened and turned away. "But it was very unwise of you to use your ring while in such a weakened position."

  I snorted. "I figured if this old man was going to get himself killed trying to save me I could at least do the same for him." My eyes flickered to his temples, and I reached up and brushed my hand against the remaining gray hairs. Vince winced and turned to me with a snarl. I grinned back at him. "You should keep this new look. It makes you look more dashing."

  Vince raised an eyebrow, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. "I am stuck with the color, but I am glad to hear it doesn't affect my features too greatly."

  "Yeah, it makes you look like a hero instead of a brooding vampire. Speaking of brooding, you think Ruthven's pretty mad at us right now?" I wondered.

  "Perhaps, but he is a patient man and he won't allow anger to cloud his judgment," Vince told me.

  "So we should find out what's in that card pretty quick?" I guessed.

  "Yes, but after a rest," Vince replied.

  "And seeing Bat. He's probably pretty worried about us," I added.

  "No doubt," Vince agreed. He stood and I tried to follow suit, but my legs felt like jello and I lowered myself back to the ground.

  "Um, how far is it to the car?" I asked him.

  "Roughly fifteen miles."

  I cringed. "This night just got a lot longer," I mused. Vince stooped and scooped me into his arms. I hid my blushing in my fury. "Put me down! You know I don't like this!"

  "I would rather not turn to dust at the coming sunrise waiting for your strength to return," he commented.

  "I hate-" I paused in my usual hatred pronouncement as I recalled what I'd said to him earlier. "I'm really angry at you!" I rephrased.

  Vince grinned. "I will risk it." He sped off down the lane to our left and the city lights and countryside flew by.

  I scowled at him, but on the inside I felt a warm glow flow through me. I would only admit to myself that Vince and I had a truce of sorts now. With the clue in Vince's pocket and strength back in our-well, at least his body, I felt like we could take on the whole supernatural world. I was ready for our next adventure as we dove into the supernatural world of medium-rare seances and ghastly ghouls.

  Ghost of A Chance (Dead-tective #4)

  Chapter 1

  It was a gloriously sunny day, and I slept through all of it. Every little bit of sunlight was gone by the time I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was an unforgiving hand. When I tried to roll away from it, the hand rolled me back and shook harder. It also had a voice.

  "You must arise," came the voice.

  I creaked open an eyelid and glared at the vampire who stood over me. It was Vincent the Vampire, and I still lay on my comfortable bed long after the sun had set. "Just five more minutes, Mom," I muttered. I tried to roll over, but he still held my shoulder in his tight, demonic grip.

  "We don't have time to waste if we're to find the answer to the card," he reminded me.

  I glared at him with the power of both eyes. "Card? What card?"

  He pulled a half of a card from inside his long coat. It was the queen of hearts from a deck of playing cards. "This card."

  Seeing the card made all the horrible and not-so-horrible memories come back to me. There was our little adventure with Simone and her hexing Vince, and our near-deaths in the lair of the Underground undead. Ah, fun times.

  I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "But how are we supposed to find out something about that? Didn't Simone say we'd need to do a seaman or something to find someone?"

  "Seance, and there are people capable of making the connection for us, but not if we do not hurry," Vince insisted.

  "All right, I'm-" I stifled a yawn and swung my legs over the bed, "-up, or close to it. Where are we going to find this professional seance person, anyway?"

  "There are many mediums located in the city. The one I had in mind is located at the edge of the blighted area," he told me.

  I furrowed my brow and tapped a finger on my chin. "Blighted area? Oh yeah, that's the place where Ruthven shows off his work on the city, right?" I asked him.

  "That is correct, but we don't have time for a history lesson." He turned and walked toward the door.

  "Hey, Vince," I called to him. He paused and half turned to me. I grinned at him and nodded at his temples. They were still gray from his experience as an old geezer. "I still like the hairstyle."

  He bowed his head and left without a word. I took that as his accepting the compliment, and prepared for our visit to the medium. That involved pressing my wrinkled clothes with my hands and tying my hair back because Vince wasn't going to give me enough time to wash it. In a minute I was ready, and I met Vince at the front door. We traveled to the car and he drove us through the ruined neighborhoods to the ones wrecked by Ruthven. Run-down buildings were replaced by rotting ones, and litter-filled alleys changed to weed-infested lawns. Flickering streetlights disappeared, and the darkness of the night covered everything.

  "Why don't our adventures ever take us some place more cheerful? Like a cemetery?" I quipped as I watched the depressing world fly by.

  "It may before the night is over," Vince warned me.

  I snorted. "I can hardly wait."

  Our new adventure led us to the edge of the blight where there was actual grass in the l
awns, but weeds and darkness still covered much of the area. The houses were large Victorian mansions, most in disrepair but a few inhabited by stubborn owners. Tall oak trees grew along the road and draped their branches over the road like a dark, endless tunnel. Eight-foot tall shrubs and skeletal decorative trees dotted the yards.

  I noticed a large Victorian house ahead of us on the next corner with its shutters painted a bright firetruck red. The porch looked stable and the front room window shone with light. A few cars sat on the grassy curb, and Vince parked us behind one of the vehicles. We got out and I tilted my head back to get a good look at the gable roof, bay windows, and fish-scale shingles on the walls. A crow sat on the highest peak of the roof and glared down at us with its beady yellow eyes.

  It was all so delightfully scary that I shuddered and flickered my eyes to Vince. "About that cemetery. It's looking pretty good right now," I mused.

  "Perhaps later. The medium we wish to meet resides here," he informed me.

  "Why are we seeing this one?" I asked him.

  "She honors her client's privacy," he explained. He strode forward to the steps that led onto the covered porch.

  "Medium-client privilege, eh?" I quipped as I followed behind him.

  "Something of that nature," he agreed.

  We reached the wooden front door and Vince knocked. The entrance creaked open on hinges that needed oiling thirty years ago. There was so much chunky rust on them I could have graveled the road with it. Our greeter turned out to be a young woman of about twenty with beautiful gray eyes and no legs. That probably had something to do with the bottom half of her being transparent, and her upper body floating two feet off the ground. I let out a small 'eep' and slipped behind Vince.

  The ghost girl smiled at us. "What can I do for you?" she inquired.

  "We wish to see Madam Mim," Vince replied.

  I snorted. "Madam Mim?"

  "Do you have an appointment?" the ghost wondered.

  "No, but I have been a client in the past," he revealed.

  "Your name?"

  "Vincent."

  "One moment, please." The ghost closed the door and I whipped my head to Vince.

  "Are we going to be seeing a lot of those types of people on this adventure?" I asked him.

  "Undoubtedly," he replied.

  My shoulders drooped and I returned to his side. "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to this paranormal society. Just when I think I can handle anything that's thrown at me a ghost comes and throws a transparent monkey wrench into the machinery." I stood at attention when the door opened and the ghost woman smiled at us.

  She stepped aside and gestured down the hall that ran down the center of the house. "If you would care to take a seat in the parlor behind the first door on the right then Madam Mim will be with you in a moment."

  "Well, at least we don't have to take a number," I muttered beneath my breath as Vince led the way down the hall.

  The old house had peeling flowered wallpaper, but the floor was clean and there was no smell of damp. Vince turned us into the right-hand room and I saw it was a small, square room. The windows were covered in black lace, as were the lamp shades, and plain chairs lined the walls to our right and in front of us. To our left and a little away from the wall was a doorway with thick black curtains. Black wallpaper with dark gold stripes covered the walls, and the carpet was also black.

  The atmosphere was made all the more depressing by the inhabitants. A man sat opposite where we stood, and in his hands was a small fire engine. He stared morosely at the toy and occasionally let out a heaving sigh. To our right and close to the wall sat an old woman with a younger one, and the younger one tried to console her sniffling companion.

  "I'm sure she'll be able to find Grandpa," the younger one whispered to the older woman.

  The older woman sighed and shook her head. She spoke with a thick Eastern European accent. "It is of no use. He is lost to me forever."

  Vince led us to a pair of chairs in the corner of the room and we took a seat. My eyes lingered on the man with the toy until I decided the gloomy wallpaper was much more cheerful. After ten minutes of depressing agony the heavy curtains in front of the other doorway parted and a middle-aged woman stepped out. The woman was in tears and blew loudly on a handkerchief.

  Behind her was a tiny old woman of seventy who wore a black shawl over her hunched shoulders and a soft, kind smile on her wizened face. She patted the younger woman's shoulder with her wrinkled hand. "I am sure it will be all right now for you and your brother."

  The other woman smiled and nodded. "Yes, but I don't know how to thank you enough, Madam Mim."

  "My assistant will tell you my bill. That will be thanks enough," the older woman returned.

  The client left, and Madam Mim swept her eyes over the small room. The man caught her eye and stood, but she waved him down in his seat. "In a moment, sir. I can sense there is some urgency with these other clients. Come into my parlor, please." She gestured to us, and Vince stood.

  Chapter 2

  Madam Mim slipped into the other room, and we followed. The second room was completely shrouded in darkness. No natural light permeated its windows, and heavy curtains hung from the ceiling and almost forced Vince to stoop. A round table sat in the center of the small room, and on its blood-red tablecloth was a deck of cards and a small crystal ball on a pedestal. On the opposite side to us sat a single chair, and close to us were two more seats. Madam Mim took her position opposite us and gestured to the other chairs.

  "It's not often the dead visit me without me calling for them. What can I do for you?" she asked us.

  Vince walked up to the table and took a seat. I followed his example. He pulled forth the card from his coat and tossed it to the medium. "We need you to find who holds the other half of the card. We were told we would need a medium to do so," he explained.

  She picked up the folded card and studied it for a moment before she set the card face-up on the table and raised an eyebrow. "That isn't much to go on. Got a name or a face?" she asked us.

  Vince shook his head. "Nothing."

  Madam Mim frowned and set the card face-up in front of her. "All right, I'll try, but it'll cost you extra because this isn't going to be easy."

  "Isn't there some sort of impression from the person we want to talk to?" I wondered.

  She snorted and tapped the face of the card. "There isn't even many fingerprints on this card, much less an impression. This will be like dialing a phone number with only one digit."

  Vince reached for the card. "If you are unable to perform the task then we may find others to-"

  Mim set her palm on the card and glared at him. "I will find this person, but like I said, it will cost extra and you won't find the rates of the others any cheaper. Do we have a deal or what?"

  Vince retracted his hand and nodded. "We have a deal."

  "Good. Now be quiet and let me concentrate." The woman set the tips of her fingers of one of her hands on the card and closed her eyes.

  "Shouldn't we join hands or something?" I wondered.

  Madam Mim opened one eye and frowned at me. "That is a bunch of hogwash, now hush." She closed her eyes and tilted her head back so her chin pointed upward. "Oh spirits of the other side, please help me find one who knows the meaning of this card and holds the other half."

  "Or maybe just call Hilda so we can ask her about it," I muttered.

  The medium opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. "Remain still. I'm getting something," she whispered.

  Movement over the table caught my eyes, and I tilted my head back to gaze at the ceiling. A wispy white fog appeared out of thin air four feet above the table. The fog glowed with an unearthly light, which was pretty fitting considering this wasn't earthly, and the whiteness slowly formed itself into the shape of an older woman. She was, or had been, about sixty-five with wrinkles on her thin face. Her grayish hair was permed, and she wore a flowered dress that hugged her skinny frame. The
bottom half of her slipped into a smoky point like a genie chained to a magic lamp.

  The ghost's sharp eyes swept over us and her tight mouth curled down in a deep scowl. "What the hell do you want?" she growled in a raspy voice that could have startled a deaf man.

  The medium frowned and tapped the card with one finger. "These nice people wish to know if you hold the other half of this card."

  The ghost floated closer to the table, and I felt the temperature of the room lower with her ghostly body. She squinted her eyes, and after a moment gave a nod. "Yes, I do."

  "We wish to know what Hilda told or gave to you," Vince spoke up.

  The ghost's eyes flickered to us and she scrutinized our faces. "Hilda told me someone would be snooping around for it, but I'm not telling anything until I get some help from you."

  I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Madam Mim. "Is this how it usually works?" I spoke up.

  The medium snorted. "Not usually, but the pushier ghosts may demand many things," she told me.

  The ghost whipped her head to medium and glared at her. "What I demand is not because I am 'pushy,' but because I am restless, and I'm not helping anyone until my body is found."

  "Have you checked your other spook outfit?" I asked her.

  She crossed her arms and floated closer to the ceiling. Her outline dimmed and her voice sounded farther away as though she spoke through a long tunnel. "Fine. We'll see how long it takes you to find what Hilda gave me on your own."

  Vince stood so fast his chair tumbled back onto the ground. "What did Hilda give to you?" he questioned her.

  She stopped her disappearing act and shrugged. "If you want to know then you have to find my body."

  "Why do you think we can find your body?" I asked her.

  She sighed and gestured to Vince. "Every spook in the city knows about the vampire detective agency, and if he's a vampire then he's then he's the detective. Besides, Hilda told me he might come snooping around looking for the card and what she gave me. Now will you help me or must I take my problem elsewhere?"