by Altas Opal
"I have 10 emails from new clients. What am I going to do?"
"I would emails l them back stating that you are not accepting new clients at the time and that you will put them on your waiting list. You don't want to piss them off. Just lay low until I get back with information okay?"
"Okay."
Shay had already made a mess, and the best thing to do would be to hole up until Jason got back.
She grabbed her tablet and headed back to the house with Jason. He gave her a quick hug and headed towards his house. She had some emails to write.
Shay tossed and turned all night. She'd made the wrong decision to check her emails during the day and there had been 10 polite but angry letters from the vamps she had put on a waiting list, and 10 new ones she would have to piss off.
She had big blue shadows under her eye from lack of sleep and the gnawing guilt just wouldn't stop. She deserved to suffer if Sunrose had anything to do with Emma's disappearance. She just couldn't sit on her hands. She had to do something. She called Jason and got his answering machine and left a message that she was going to visit Mark to see if there was any news.
She took a quick shower and put on her favorite blue jeans, a long-sleeved peach blouse and her worn-in cowboy boots. She slipped a knife in the the holster in her boot, one into her belt, and two underneath her sleeves. She normally only carried one knife but with her new career, she figured it never hurt to be careful. Maisie was already up and cooking, which was a nice surprise. In addition to being a beauty, Maisie could cook. She still remembered the first time she had made her French toast. It was a shame that they so rarely had the ingredients for her sister to practice her cooking skills. The buttery smell of pancakes hit her nose as she walked into the kitchen.
"Please tell me those are pancakes."
"Yep, sit down, and I'll make you a plate."
A fridge and pantry full of food and a big breakfast had set an easy tone in the house yesterday. Shay had scrubbed the house from top to bottom, and Maisie had made cinnamon rolls, oatmeal honey bread, and an apple pie from scratch. The house and the kitchen had hummed with happiness even with the tension she was feeling. Maisie had gone all out made pasta with lemon butter and capers for dinner. Afterwards, they had crashed on the couch and watched old movies. It had been so lovely that Shay wished she could have enjoyed it. However, until Emma was found, she was in limbo.
Maisie put down a plate heaping with pancakes and apple butter. Her stomach growled as she dug in and reveled in the taste of happiness. The taste that would not have been possible without Sunrose's money.
"Maisie, I'm going to be running a bunch of errands today for Ms. Smarter. I'll have my cell phone if you need anything. What are you you up to?"
Her sister's pale cheeks flushed with color as she described how she was going to try making sourdough bread. She also had some homework to catch up on. It was amazing the change in her sister when she was in her element of cooking and creating in the kitchen. Gone was the prickly, abrasive teen and in her place was the kitchen goddess. She also wondered if Jason's earrings had anything to do with the transformation in her behavior.
Shay stood up and placed her cleaned plate in the sink. "Do you mind if I take some cinnamon rolls to Ms. Smarter?"
"No, no. I can make more."
She believed it. Her sister was a baking fool and already cleaning dishes to get ready to start her new cooking adventure.
She wrapped some cinnamon rolls and stuck them in her large purse. She hadn't checked her email, and she wasn't going to until all this had been sorted out.
She made her way out to the car and started her up to head to Mark's house.
Drive
Mark had bought a piece of land 30 minutes from Benton. It was bucolic with a lake and enough old growth trees to make it seem like a private mountain retreat. He had built a 4000 square foot home with gleaming hardwood floors, granite counters and all the pretty amenities that money could buy. She'd heard about all this through Jason, who'd always made their big holiday party every year. Shay, on the other hand, would stay home and roast marshmallows with her sister.
When she drove into view of the home, she could see why Jason never turned down an invitation. The house was gorgeous. From the stone accents and clear cedar siding, it screamed of quiet wealth. The driveway was limestone cobblestone, and as she turned off her car, she prayed it wouldn't leave it a big oil mark for someone to clean up.
She stepped out and saw that Mark had opened up the door of his home and she steeled herself. He still looked good. At 6'2, he was built like a linebacker. Broad shoulder complemented his lean waist. His chestnut brown hair only made his sky blue eyes more vivid. From the way her pulse picked up, you would never have thought that 11 years had passed.
"Shay?" He'd walked down the steps of the porch towards her.
"Hey Mark. I saw your mother yesterday at Peterson's, and I wanted to see if Emma had turned up? I brought you some cinnamon rolls too. Maisie made them. So I guarantee they taste wonderful."
She thrust the warm package into his hands.
With his free hand, he ran his fingers through his hair and pulled his ear. It was a nervous habit that she remembered. His face was tired so she didn't expect the news to be good. "We still haven't heard from her. I talked the sheriff this morning to put out a missing person's alert. And I'm going up to drive up to Portland to see if I can learn anything more."
"What about your girls?" Her gut clenched at the thought at Abby and Samantha losing their mother.
"My mom has them and will watch them until I get back. We haven't told them that she's missing."
"They don't think it’s strange that their mother hasn’t been home for the last two day?" Oh God, she wished she could have taken that back.
He coughed and looked at her strangely for a moment. "Not everyone knows this, but Emma and I haven't been seeing eye to eye for the last year. She's been distant and going to the city at least once a week for girl weekends with some friends from college. Things seemed to getting better though." He trailed off and looked to the house.
She was ashamed but grabbed at the tiniest spark of hope that she wasn't responsible for Emma's disappearance.
"Did you want to come in? I was just making some coffee, and we could have a cup."
"Yes." She blurted it out before her brain kicked in. What the hell? She wasn't some amazing investigator who was going to gain any clues from going inside the house. She was curious, and she knew where that would lead. Maybe she would see something she could share with Jason that would help find Emma?
She followed him up the steps, walked inside the house and immediately felt small. Her house was pit compared to this, and Jason's descriptions hadn't done the house any justice. The walls were a soothing beige color and furniture new and polished. It felt like a home right out of the magazines. Emma's soft touches were everywhere - the green silk curtains, the fresh flowers on the mantle. Family photos were everywhere and an overflowing toy box was a quick reminder of the family that was missing.
She had smelled the coffee when she entered the door and hoped she could make this quick. He was already getting two mugs out of the cupboard and had started to pour.
"Do you want any cream or sugar?”
"No, I like it black."
He handed her the mug, and she took a sip. It was dark and bitter just like she loved.
"If you don't mind me saying, I'm surprised that you're here. We've sent you an invitation to our holiday party every year, but you've never come." He paused and again had that look. "What happened 11 years ago is water under the bridge. We were young. It was wrong of me to cheat on you, but trust me, I learned my lesson." He flashed that brilliant smile when he said that.
She almost spit out her drink. She was sure she was bright red, and she felt like crawling under a rock. She had admitted to herself two years ago that she was nurturing an unhealthy flame for him. It was easy to blame the fact that there were only
a handful of of attractive men in town, but the truth was she had never really gotten over him. He was the first person who ever wanted her. He didn't care that she was poor and her mother was a train wreck. He loved her that summer, and she could never forget how that felt.
She stared at the dark circles under his eyes, and she knew she should tell him. Perhaps Emma's disappearance was as innocent as a mother running away could be, or he could be following the path of a killer?
"Um, I'm not sure how to tell you this."
"You still love me, right?"
She stammered. Any other time she would have made a smart ass retort but this time she chose to ignore it.
"No. But there is a chance that Vampires are involved."
"Vampires? You don't believe in that nonsense do you?" The oven beeped, and she realized he had set the cinnamon rolls in the oven to warm up. He opened the oven door, and the cinnamon sweet smell filled the room.
"Yes. I know for a fact there are vampires. I started a company to work with them, and I had my first client two nights ago."
He handed her a plate with a cinnamon roll on it. The sugar had slid down and created a white puddle on the red rim of the plate. She watched as he took his first bite and groaned. His lips and chin became glazed with white as he finished it under a minute.
"You sister is amazing cook. When she's old enough, send her to Peterson's because she has a job."
"I don't understand how you can be so calm."
"Well, I think that you're making this up. I think that Emma has left town, and you see an opening to get back with me. Again, what we had was great but we were kids. I'm flattered Shay, but I love my wife."
She couldn't believe it. She'd fessed up, and he thought she was low enough to make a pass for him when his wife was missing. Whatever feelings she had for him vanished.
"Mark, listen closely. I worked with a vampire. Yes, a vampire two nights ago. The night of your wife's disappearance. If Emma had the unfortunate chance of running into him, then she is dead. Hopefully, that's worst that he did because he was fucking psychopath. Believe me or don't believe me, but I recommend that on your trip up to Portland that you bring whatever silver you have and pray to God that I'm wrong because that's what I'm doing."
She turned on her heel and started for the door. She’d dodged a bullet with that one. She was out the front door and near her car when his hand grabbed her arm. She turned and pulled a knife.
"I should have known that you would have a knife." He stepped out of her reach.
"Don't ever touch me."
"I hear you loud and clear." He looked at his hands when he next spoke.
"Emma was big into the vampires. It's the reason I moved back home when we got married. I wanted her away from the city and the scene. I know of a couple of places to search for her." His eyes were sad. Whatever problems that Mark and Emma had were their own to figure out. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I haven't slept and that tends to bring out the worst in me." He was rubbing his ear again. "I have to get out of here by noon if I'm going to make it to town before dark. Would you do me a favor? Can you check on my mom and daughters when I'm gone?"
"Sure." She pulled her cell phone from her bag and navigated to the contacts.
"Thank you. My number is 555-1888. Can I get yours?"
She hesitated. She didn't want to give it to him, but she did with the cravat that he call her if he found Emma. She glanced at the clock on her phone and was shocked to see that it was almost 3pm. She needed to get home and see if Jason had turned up.
"I hope you find her. I can't imagine what your family is going through but be careful. If my client, Sunrose, is involved, I fear for the worst."
"Thanks and, again, I'm sorry. I needed to lash out at someone and, unfortunately, you were the one to get the brunt of it."
She got into her car and, thankfully, it started up on the first try. The drive home was a blur. She was still angry at Mark's barb. “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will always hurt you” was a mantra she learned growing up with Vivian as a mother. Mark had been a small shining moment in her life and now she realized she had turned him into a great fiction that even he couldn't live up to.
When she pulled up to the house, it was brightly lit. The smell of onions and roasting chicken hit her nose when she opened her car door. She walked into the house and could hear her sister bumping around in the kitchen so she headed over in the hopes that Jason has called or shown up. She was disappointed to find her sister alone.
"Has Jason called or stopped by?"
"No. You missed lunch, but I can warm it up for you. Dinner won't be ready until 6." Her sister walked to the fridge and pulled out a plate covered in tin foil.
Damn. Double Damn. She didn't want to but she knew she should check her email. She was stuck until she heard from Jason. Yes, she was freakishly good with a knife. But all her skills had gotten her was a pissed off vampire with a knife in his hand when she was aiming for his throat.
"Thanks, sis. I'm going to grab my tablet so I can check my email. I'll be right back."
She walked through the back door and headed down the four steps to the shed. She turned the corner and a tall blond woman was leaning against the door. She didn't look familiar so Shay slowed to a near stop. Truthfully, she wanted to turn and run into the house but that would only bring Maisie into the situation. She fingered her knives and moved towards the woman with a forced smile.
"Hi. Can I help you? Are you lost?" She didn't see a car but the road was a good 200 yards from the house, and she may have broken down.
"Are you Shay Moon? "
"I am."
"Lovely. I'm Lacey, and I'm here for a tan."
Combs House
Ethan Abraham Combs was perfectly satiated. Pamela stirred underneath his hand as he caressed her thigh. He could still feel her blood burning in his veins. They had an agreement that every decade, they would come together and revel in their in the warmth of their bodies and blood.
He remembered the first time they had met in a park in the 1920s. She'd been waiting underneath a steam lamp with her strawberry blond hair curly and pinned up. She was wearing a black velvet dress and smoking a cigarette She didn't wait long and a brown haired man in thick black wool coat joined her. He'd followed them as they walked through the park. When they embraced, he knew she was feeding from him and it had made his teeth ache. She'd know he was there, of course. When she pulled the man's body into a copse of trees, she had walked right up to him and smiled. He had lost himself for a moment.
Now, 90 years later, she was still one of his favorite distractions. He had be born a vampire in the 1511. His wife had been burned at the stake, but he had run. Afraid through the dark forest only to land in the hands of something more sinister, Simone, his maker and master for 400 years, before he successfully killed the bitch. He'd been 32, ancient in those days, but considered the prime of youth today. His warm brown eyes and chin length brown hair had been bleached from the sun from working the land day after day. Farm work had left his body toned and chiseled. He'd learned over the years that having a pretty face made his life so much easier that he couldn't help but smile how much he had cursed their old mule, the never ending monotony of working the land for food and shelter and the calluses that were still on his hands today, which were the last visible remnants of his human life.
Pamela had stirred to life and was leaving a trail of bite marks along his inner thigh. Her mouth left wet red marks small like butterflies along his skin. She was wicked and mean in bed, and he loved every moment of it. She took him in her mouth, and he groaned.
Thought left him as the heat of her mouth surrounded him. He should give into the lust that filled his body, but they had spent the last week naked and entwined in one orgasmic moment after another. It was always like this for the first week, and then slowly and surely, it started to seem like a chore to kiss her mouth or even be polite. He grabbed her by her hair and pushed her off.
“What’s wrong?” She moved back and her breasts bounced enticingly.
“I have work to do darling. You know how it goes.”
“Tell them to wait. We only have a few more days together so shouldn’t we just enjoy each other?” Her hands already reaching for him.
“Pamela, I have to work. You can wait here, if you’d like, but I have a full night ahead of me.”
Again, she moved towards him, but he evaded her.
“Ethan, we’ve been doing this for decades. I love our time together and I want... I want something more.”
He had known this was coming, but he had hoped it would not come to this.
“Pamela, what we have is perfect. I’m not looking for anything more than this. Do you understand?”
“Why are you still so cold after all this this time?” Her voice lowered as she turned away her face.
“Darling, we both made a promise that this was nothing more than fun. If you want something more, you are welcome to look elsewhere.”
Ethan stood up, walked into the master bath and turned on the shower. As the warm water hit his skin, he had already pushed Pamela out of his mind. A part of him knew this was not the end of it, but she would have to deal with it if she still wanted what he could offer her.
His mind began to churn with what he needed to get done that day. He needed to catch up on the housekeeping of being a Lord of the Circle. He'd been a head member ever since he killed Simone and taken her spot. He was good at what he did. The Circle was responsible for the creating rules for and policing the vampire population. He was the youngest on the council, and it was no mistake that he was there as truly on the most ruthless could hold the position. When you took away mortality, the only deciding factors for who would rule was by determined by stealth, knowledge, viciousness and power. As vampires aged, they gained more powers, which would have been a disadvantage since he was so young if he hadn’t been made by Simone. She was made during the crusade and her blood had been considered pure. Her maker was the originator of the curse, and she rarely shared her blood. Two other members sat on the council, Anders and Devi. Anders was 1000 years old and fit the stereotype of what people expected a vampire to look like. Jet black hair brushed back to his shoulders, and his ruthless brown eyes sized up everyone who came into his presence. Devi was pure ice with white blond hair and pale lavender eyes. At just over 600 years old, it was rumored she was responsible for over 10,000 deaths. Ethan spent a fortune every month tracking their every movement. Only a death would open up a spot on the council, Thus, it was wise to keep an eye on anyone who would benefit from his demise.