“You know, I probably could do better. Let’s have us a little drink and talk it over.”
“I don’t really have time tonight,” I said, starting to stand up. He grabbed my arm and squeezed.
“Now, don’t be like that. Sit yourself down.” He yanked on me so that I fell onto the couch and him.
“Earl James Stanton, you take your hands off me this minute, or I will tell your momma about this.”
He laughed, leaning to give me a kiss while he held me down.
“Stop it!” I yelled.
Mercutio landed right on Earl’s neck and did his signature swipe. Earl hollered and flung me to the floor. He reached for Mercutio, who darted away. Earl’s face was purple with rage. “I’m gonna kill that cat.”
Earl stumbled to the gun case.
“Run, Mercutio!” I screamed as Earl yanked the glass door open. Mercutio leapt over the couch as Earl swung the shotgun around.
Boom. I blinked. Earl had blown a huge hole in his living room wall, missing Mercutio by at least five feet. Merc raced through the room, and Earl swiveled the gun after him. I hopped up and grabbed the brass lion lamp from the sideboard table.
The second shot rang out just as loud as the first. Me clocking Earl with the lamp was real quiet in comparison. Earl staggered and fell to his knees and then passed out face down on the rug. I bent over and checked his pulse.
Mercutio poked his head around the corner.
“Bad news, Merc. He’s alive.”
Mercutio sneezed and then I swear he smiled at me. I laughed nervously and then put a hand to my forehead and sighed.
“I need money. He offered us two hundred dollars.” I dug into Earl’s pocket and pulled out his wallet. I took out four hundred. “But two hundred wasn’t really a fair price. I’m sure he’ll see that when he sobers up in the morning. Now, you know what else we need to borrow?”
Mercutio purred.
“Darn straight,” I said, opening the gun case and pulling out a .38 special that was lying on the bottom. “This sure is convenient. Almost like it’s a sign. Pretty sure it is a sign,” I said, popping the revolver open and dumping out the regular bullets. “I’m definitely going to church this Sunday to tell God how much I appreciate His help this week,” I said, loading the chambers with the silver bullets that were rolling around the bottom of my purse. “You remind me Saturday night, Merc. The way things are going, I might be distracted and forget.” I slapped the revolver shut and tucked it in my purse.
I grabbed the throw blanket off the couch and laid it over Earl.
To Mercutio, I said, “All set.”
Chapter 17
Mercutio and I trotted back out to the car and drove over to Bryn Lyons’s house. I wanted to try to get him to sell me a spellbook or the spells I needed. If he did, it would save me a trip to Austin and all that time spent driving that I didn’t have. Also, I needed some answers from him.
I buzzed the security man. “It’s Tammy Jo Trask. I’d like to see Mr. Bryn Lyons, please.”
“Just a minute, Ms. Trask,” came the deep voice through the speaker. A few moments later the gate swung open. I pressed the buzzer again.
“Ma’am?”
“It doesn’t seem too polite that I don’t even know your name.”
There was a pause. “Steve.”
“Good evening, Steve. Where do you sit, by the way? Last time I was here, I was wondering that.”
“I have an office in the house, ma’am. On the first floor.”
“Oh, right. Well, I’ll probably see you in there then. If I don’t, have a good night, Steve.”
I heard him chuckle softly, and then he said, “You, too.”
“Oh, Steve?”
“Yes?”
“My cat’s with me, so could you tell your boss to put his serial killer dog outside?”
“Already taken care of, ma’am.”
“Steve, you can call me Tammy Jo. Everyone does.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I swung the car up the drive and parked it right in front. You never know when you’re going to have to make a quick getaway. And I could hopefully trust Steve to help me out with the gate now that we were on a first-name basis.
The front door opened, and Bryn leaned against the frame with a coffee cup in his hand.
Merc and I got out and walked up, and I realized that he was as dressed down as I’d ever seen him. Faded jeans and a black T-shirt that had white lettering that read, “Sarcasm is just one more service we offer free.”
I nodded to the shirt. “That your firm’s new marketing slogan?”
“You got it.”
“I’m surprised you own that shirt. I’ve never seen you wearing anything like that around town.”
“There are one or two things about me that you don’t know.”
“Such as?”
He closed the front door behind us.
“How’s Zach?”
“Out hunting werewolves.”
“I wish him well.”
“So what do you know about them?”
“That’s a very broad question,” he said, waving for me to follow him.
“I’d like a very broad answer, as quick as you can give it.”
We went down a wide hallway with lots of big impressive paintings and ended up in a kitchen that most chefs only dream about. I walked directly to the double oven and ran my hand over it longingly. I took another minute to admire his stainless steel appliances.
Bryn moved past me and opened the fridge. He pulled out a Tupperware dish and opened it. There was a perfectly arranged meal. Roast beef in gravy, green beans with slivered almonds, broccoli in butter. My mouth watered.
“Sit,” he said, nodding toward the round granite-topped table.
“Who cooks here?” I asked, looking around reverently.
“A chef-for-hire during the workweek. On the weekends, it’s generally empty.”
“That sure is a shame.”
He popped the food in the microwave and hit the start button.
“You’re free to come over and use it anytime you like.”
I bit my lip at the temptation and shook my head. He’s on the damn list. Get ahold of yourself! “So you were going to talk about these werewolves.”
“There’s not much I can tell you.”
“Why are they after me?”
“You stabbed one of them.”
“But the wolf-man tonight said I was their enemy before that. Why?”
He leaned against the counter, as sexy as the stainless steel. “You tell me.”
“How should I know? I’m a pastry chef.”
“You never cast any spells before you got fired?”
“Never. Never ever!”
Bryn shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“That’s it? You’re supposed to be a brilliant lawyer.”
He grinned. “And when they sue you, I’ll have an answer for every question and a plan for every courtroom eventuality.”
“I don’t need courtroom help. I need to know how to stop them from coming after me. Have you got a plan for that?”
The microwave beeped.
“It happens that I might,” he said, and I heard that faint Irish lilt again.
He took the food out and set it in front of me with a beautifully polished silver knife and fork and a navy blue linen napkin. He got me a glass of water and a glass of red wine.
“So, are you going to tell me?” I asked impatiently as I placed the napkin on my lap.
He sat down at the table across from me. “We’ll need to strike a bargain. I don’t offer preternatural services gratis.”
I chewed the delicious roast beef silently. “I’m broke. I have four hundred dollars left to my name.” Which is kind of stolen, and which I’ll need to return eventually to get the family jewels back. “But if you’ll sell me a protection spell, that’d be a good use of what I have.”
“I can’t do that. It’s illegal for me to sell spells.”
“How come there are stores that can sell spellbooks then?”
“The books’ former owners are dead. The spells are sort of public domain, waiting for a new witch or wizard to claim the compilation and make it his or her own.”
“But you gave me spells.”
He smiled. “I did. It was supposed to be a one-time occurrence . . . because there were special circumstances.”
“Well, right, but some more special circumstances have come up.”
“They always do,” he said, laughing softly. “No one with power ever stops with one spell.”
“Hey, I’m gonna stop. Just as soon as I get a chance to.” I ate my vegetables and took a gulp of wine. “So. What do you want in exchange for help with the werewolves?”
“I want you to apprentice yourself to me.”
“Not going to happen.”
“You do realize that your life is at stake?”
“Of course, I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know that.”
Suddenly a disembodied voice boomed overhead, startling me. “Mr. Lyons, pick up. We have a situation.”
Bryn stood and walked over to a wall phone. He picked it up and asked, “What’s going on, Steve?” Bryn listened and frowned. “Detain them at the front.”
There was suddenly a pounding on the back door to the kitchen. I jumped up and yanked the gun from my purse, pointing it.
Bryn raised his eyebrows. “It’s not the werewolves. You can put that away.”
I ignored him. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“Why don’t you wait in the foyer?”
“No way.”
“This doesn’t concern you. Wait in the foyer.”
Whoever was outside pounded again.
“And I won’t need a gun?”
“Not unless you’re planning to shoot the flower arrangement in the foyer. Go, now.”
I grabbed my purse and spun on my heel. I left the kitchen and walked about five feet down the hall. One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one thousand. I stopped counting when a young guy in a security uniform started coming down the hall toward me.
“Steve?” I asked.
“Ms. Trask, can I show you the front hall?”
“Sure,” I said with a smile, then I turned and darted back to the kitchen.
As a chef, I’ve seen plenty of disasters in the kitchen, but in all my days, I’ve never seen any thing that shocked me so much as the scene in Bryn’s.
Georgia Sue lay unconscious on the table where I’d just had dinner. She looked like she’d been carved from ivory; she was that white. Bryn and Lennox Lyons leaned over her.
“What? What?” I yelled, rushing to her. There were a few drops of blood on the collar of her white Jammers work shirt. Then I saw the two tiny bite marks.
“You’re vampires!” I screamed, yanking my gun back out.
“No,” Bryn said holding his arms out.
Suddenly, Lennox Lyons looking so pale and ill made sense. He was a vampire, and he hadn’t been letting himself feed.
“You get away from her, right now.” They backed up.
“She has been bitten, but I didn’t bite her,” Lennox said. “She was in Magnolia Park.”
“Liar! She wouldn’t have been in the park alone. She’s married, and she got married so she’d never have to go anywhere alone, unless it was the hairdresser or the spa, which the park at night sure isn’t. Now pick up that phone and call nine-one-one.”
“She’ll be dead before they get here. She needs blood right now,” Lennox said. He still had his arms in the air.
“We have blood here. We can save her, if you put down your gun,” Bryn said.
“I don’t need to put down my gun for you to save her. Go ahead.”
Lennox walked over to a small stand-alone cupboard and took out a stash of medical supplies. “Steve, go to the small fridge and get two packets of blood.”
Steve looked unhappy, but he turned and hurried down the hall.
I stared incredulously as Lennox pushed up Georgia’s sleeve and expertly started an IV. A minute later, Steve was back with a packet of blood that was labeled like it had been stolen from a blood bank or hospital.
“Can you just give her that? Doesn’t it have to be, what do you call it, checked to be sure it matches her blood?”
“This blood is type O negative. It can safely be given to anyone,” Lennox said.
The gun in my hand shook as Lennox connected the blood to the IV and it started to drip into Georgia’s arm. Bryn lunged forward as the gun dropped to the floor and caught me just before I hit the ground.
The room spun around me for a few moments, and I felt distinctly sick as sweat popped out on my forehead.
“You’re all right,” Bryn said soothingly. “Steve, a wet cloth.”
A moment later, a cool rag was lying across my eyes, and I did feel better.
“How does he know how to start an IV?”
“He’s been sick. He’s had to take transfusions himself. He doesn’t like hospitals.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“A blood disease.”
Like vampirism? I’d heard that some vampires who were too weak to drink blood had it poured right into their veins by others in their covens.
“He found her vein pretty darn easy,” I mumbled.
Lennox cleared his throat. “I had a small drug habit in the early eighties. Fortunately for your friend, I can always find a vein.”
I pushed the washrag up from my right eye and looked at him. “A small drug habit?”
He inclined his head. “Heroin.”
A real-live heroin addict in Duvall? And everyone said we couldn’t get any of the big drugs so far from the big cities. “You’re still using?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. And why exactly are you here?” Lennox asked. “Aren’t you banned from fraternizing with us?” His tone was like he was talking down to a half-wit.
I glared at him. “What do you know about it?” I asked, noticing that Bryn was watching him intently.
Lennox shrugged. “What could I know about it? When the second bag goes in, she may regain consciousness, Bryn. We’ll need to get her out of here.”
I sat up slowly. “We’ll call an ambulance.”
Lennox ignored me. “I’ll take her back to the park and call an ambulance from the pay phone a block away. She’ll survive long enough for them to arrive.”
“You could have called the ambulance when you found her,” Bryn said.
“The ambulances don’t carry blood, and the house was closer.” Neither Bryn nor I said anything, and Lennox added softly, “And I owed her husband a favor. Debt settled.”
I noticed then that Lennox looked a little pale and sweaty himself. Did he need the blood he’d given Georgia Sue? What would happen to him without it?
“Bryn, put Georgia back in the car,” Lennox said.
“I’ll take her to the park,” Bryn said.
“No, my contact may still be in the vicinity. I’ll have a look around.”
“I’ll take care of it—”
“I want to keep you out of it.”
“That gets less and less possible,” Bryn observed, shifting so that I was sitting on my own. He stood and walked to Georgia Sue as Lennox hung the second bag of blood. It ran into her quickly, and she looked pinker.
“I’m going to the park. I’ll wait with her until the ambulance comes,” I said.
“No,” Lennox said.
I stood up, took Earl’s gun from the table where Bryn had put it, and dropped it into my purse. “She’s my best friend. I’m going.”
The phone rang, and Bryn walked over and picked it up. “Hello?” He paused. “Astrid, it’s not a good time.”
I chewed on my lip, glancing anxiously at Georgia Sue.
“I understand that, but you can’t come to the house tonight. In the morning if you like, but not tonight.” He paused again. “Cast a Garner-Stills. T
hat should put them off.” He paused again. “No, he’s not here. He’s out. I’ll speak to you in the morning.” Bryn hung up the phone.
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