Enchanting Wilder

by Cassie Graham

  Wood huffs. “Something’s terrorizing families here in town. I just don’t know what it is.”

  “Details?”

  “Scratching on the window. They see dark shadows at night. They claim to smell rotten eggs.”

  “Demons?” I ask. It’s not uncommon to smell sulfur when they’re around. But lately, other monsters are getting smarter—they’re catching on to Pursuers’ methods. To try to lead us astray, they plant things out of the norm.

  “Or vamps. They like to play those games.”

  I check my watch. “Stakeout?”

  Wood nods. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  “We have a couple hours before sundown. I’m going to try and catch an hour of sleep. Wake me up when we have to leave.”

  Wood begins tapping on his computer without a word and I fall into the darkness the moment my head hits the pillow.

  “Maybe it’s nothing?” Wood says, as he removes his binoculars from his face.

  I take another bite of my truck-stop burrito and shrug a shoulder. “I don’t know. The house looks too quiet. Did you see any movement before?”

  “I saw them getting ready for bed. And they turned off the lights and went to bed about three hours ago.”

  I’m not convinced. “Let’s go check it out.”

  Wood stashes his things under the seat and we make our way to the house. Ringing the doorbell, we anxiously wait for someone to answer. After a few minutes no movement, I turn to Wood. “I’m going to go look around. Stay here. Don’t die.”

  “Not funny, Declan.”

  Hiding my smile, I pull out my flashlight from the inside of my jacket pocket and turn it on. Squinting my eyes, I search to find a window without blinds or at least sheer curtains, but come up short. Taking my chances, I flash my light into the window, hoping to see something.

  It must be the master bedroom. Two sets of feet, a woman and a man, are lying in bed. Stepping closer to the window, I scan the room, my light panning over a dresser and a television mounted on the wall. Nothing seems suspicious. It’s not until I move my light to the other side of the room, near the top of the headboard of the bed, that I realize we stumbled upon someone truly gruesome. Shocked by the scene before me, I run to the front of the house for Wood.

  “Wood. Blood. We have to get in there,” I urge, clicking my flashlight off.

  Wood, quick to jump into action, breaks out his lock pick kit and bends down to open the door.

  “Hurry up,” I tell him, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

  He gruffs. “I’m trying.”

  When the door swings open, we pull out our guns full of wooden bullets, turn on our flashlights and make our way into the house. I signal for Wood to take the guest bedrooms on the left while I take the master.

  A wave of unpleasant sulfur odor smacks me in the face as I enter the bedroom and I try not to cough. My eyes sting.

  Stepping lightly around the clothes on the carpet, my eyes find the couple in their bed, mouths open, throats ripped out. “Shit,” I mutter to myself, examining their wounds, taking note of the blatant savagery of it. “Wood!”

  When he walks in, he slaps his arm around his nose and, simultaneously, his eyes go wide as he takes in the scene. “Vampires.”

  “Looks like,” I agree.

  “But what’s with the sulfur smell?”

  I look at the couple, again. “I don’t know. Dad did say they were getting clever. Bastards. No kids, right?”

  “None. The guest rooms were empty, too. No pictures of children, either.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  A crash from the living room stirs us and we briskly rush out of the bedroom, guns ready. We step into the hallway, the coast clear. Wood walks ahead of me toward the noise and a flash of something circles us. I catch a glimpse of it and shoot, but the bullet ricochets off the wall. The window to our right explodes as the vamp escapes.

  “Dammit!” I yell, punching the air.

  “There has to be a nest here in town.”

  I blow air out of my nose and pull out my phone. “Let’s get out of there. I need to call this in.”

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “There’s been an accident,” I say, giving them the address.

  “And who am I speaking to?” the operator asks as I pull the door to The Sting open.

  “Yeah, my name is…” I hang up the phone before answering and slide in behind the wheel. “We have to find this nest before they hurt anyone else.”

  “I know. We will. I’ll get to work on it.” He pulls out his laptop and starts clicking away.

  My muscles rigid with anger and anxiety, I will myself to believe this is what we’re good at. And no matter what, we’ll find the bastards causing so much destruction.

  “Why don’t you go out for a bit?” Wood suggests the next night.

  My eyes have begun to cross, and I’m starting to feel like my brain might leak out of my ear. Thoughts of McKenna have been haunting my subconscious since I left her yesterday. It’s definitely not helping my ability to solve our vamp problem. Any time I allow myself to think about something other than the case, she creeps in. I’m beginning to think I’m losing it.

  We’ve been researching all day and I don’t see a pattern anywhere that will lead us to the nest of vampires.

  “I saw a pub down the street. Go get a drink and I’ll keep chipping away.”

  I rub my eyes and yawn, wrestling with the idea. “I can stay here.”

  “No,” Wood quips. “Go. I’m close to finding something. Just call me if you need anything.”

  I get up from my place at the desk and pick up my jacket, shoving my phone in my front pocket. “Okay, thanks, brother. Want anything?” I don’t think I’ll be too long, and he’ll be up way past closing anyway.

  He jots something down on his notebook. “A burger. Thanks.”

  Picking up my keys, I slap him on the back and head out. The Sting’s engine revs to life under my fingers and I grip the steering wheel tight, reveling in the sensation. I love the roar of this engine. There aren’t many things in this world I find happiness in, but driving this car, traveling around the country with it—it brings me a lot of pleasure. Probably more than it should—at least, that’s what Wood would say.

  I take the first spot I see in the parking lot and double check to make sure my gun is in the custom pocket in my jacket and hop out.

  The bar is old, musty and smoke filled. In other words, just how I prefer it. The empty peanut shells under my feet crunch and crack loud in the quiet area.

  “Hey.” I greet the pretty bartender with a smile. “Whiskey.”

  She winks, her blonde hair falling into her face. The sway in her step as she makes her way down the rows of liquor doesn’t go unnoticed. I cock an eyebrow and bite my lip as I watch her make a spectacle of simply walking.

  She slides me a thick glass and pours the dark liquid. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

  I take a sip, the harshness not fazing me. It doesn’t burn going down. It’s more like a welcome from an old friend. “Thanks.”

  The bartender’s attention is called and I’m left alone. There aren’t many people here tonight and I wonder if that’s because it really is a hole-in-the-wall or because they come later in the evening. It’s only ten o’clock, so by bar standards it’s still pretty early.

  Just as I’m thinking I’ll move to a booth in the back, a group of twenty walks through the door and another gaggle of people walk to the stage to begin setting up instruments.

  I eye them curiously as they laugh and stumble around, almost wishing I had a childhood that allowed me to have a fun college experience.

  I slam back the last of my drink, feeling oddly reminiscent of what I never had. Clearing my throat, I yell down to the bartender, “Hey, uh, sweetheart?” She turns to me, a sly smile playing on her face. Probably happy I just used the same endearment she used on me minutes ago. “Another?”

  She nods and w
alks toward me with the bottle in hand. “You can have anything you want.”

  My eyebrows shoot up and I can’t help but grin. If anything—or anyone—could get McKenna out of my head, it would certainly be this girl. This night is looking up.

  After she fills up my glass, she leans on the dark wood bar top, her long hair falling over her arms. “I close up at two. Feel free to hang around.”

  I raise my glass in thanks. “There going to be a show?” A few more groups of people have made their way into the small bar now.

  She looks over at the stage. “Yeah. The Ackalades play here every Saturday.”

  “Awesome.”

  “Here,” she says, taking her order notepad out of the front of her apron. She pulls a pen from the top of her ear and writes something down. “My number. Call me.”

  I gladly take the paper, slide off the barstool and make my way to the back of the bar for a seat in a booth closer to the stage.

  Slowly but surely, the bar begins to fill up and, by ten thirty, the place is packed.

  The Ackalades step onto the stage and the crowd roars to life. The lead singer steps up to the microphone and beams, the girls in particular going wild. He’s got longer brown hair that hangs past his ears and his black t-shirt doesn’t leave much to the imagination. He’s the typical rock guy and I have to give him credit, he does it well.

  “Welcome to The Nest! I’m Jared and we are The Ackalades.”

  More girls scream and one even throws a bra up at him, which he effortlessly catches. Jared winks and points at the now bra-less woman. “I’m here to have some fun. Are you beautiful people ready?” The place erupts and he chuckles, looking behind him to the rest of his bandmates. “Then let’s do this.”

  The entire bar goes dark and, after a few seconds, a spotlight hits the stage prompting Jared and The Ackalades to begin a popular rock song. As the crowd moves and sways to the music, I can’t help but enjoy their vibe. They’re soulful but also a little harsh. The lead singer’s vocals are something I’ve never heard before. Definitely not mainstream. It’s raspy and edgy. Something, I’m sure, gets him tons of women.

  When the band decides to take an intermission about an hour later, the music lovers on the floor below the stage stay put to save their spots. It’s not until my eyes skim the crowd more thoroughly that I see her. My glass clinks against the table as it falls from my hands. The dark liquid slaps out onto the table and I’m stunned silent.

  Her bright, curly red hair sticks out like a beautiful, mesmerizing sore thumb in a sea of boring. The music on the jukebox pumps through the speakers and she dances to the melody, looking like a big goofball. My smile stretches across my entire face. She bites her lip and combs her hand through her hair, moving her body to the rhythm. The girl she’s with dances in front of her and they laugh out loud every time they link hands, moving their hips back and forth.

  I’m struck by the thought I probably seem like a stalker—staring so intently, but quickly squash the thought. I’m not supposed to see her again, but I’m not going to lie and say I’m not a little excited.

  The dark haired woman McKenna is with leans into her, whispering into her ear and then makes her way toward the back of the bar. Left alone, McKenna stands awkwardly, holding her arm. When she turns around, with her elbows on the bar, she scans the room. She doesn’t see me, which is more than okay with me. I can watch from afar.

  Nestling myself into the booth, Jared and the band take the stage. Flashing a sultry smile I’ve been known to use, Jared begins his second set.

  I look back to where McKenna was sitting at the bar earlier, but she’s not anywhere to be found. My eyebrows downcast for the slightest second, but I don’t think too much of it.

  Toying with the bottle of beer in my hands, I’m preoccupied when someone stands next to me.

  “Are you stalking me?”

  My eyes look up to find a very feisty, very beautiful McKenna with her hand propped on her hip. Her lips are smiling, but her eyes are accusing.

  I sputter. “Umm, no?” It comes out as a question and I mentally want to junk punch myself. “I mean, no.” There, that seemed more certain.

  Her eyes narrow. “What are you doing here, Declan?”

  I gesture for her to sit. After a few seconds, her inner struggle written all over her face, she finally slides into the booth. She pulls her hands in front of her on the table and knits her fingers together. “Well?”

  “I just needed a break. Wood made me get out of the hotel and I found myself here.” I mentally give myself a high-five because if this isn’t luck, I don’t know what is.

  “Who’s Wood?”

  “My brother, Sherwood. I call him Wood, though.”

  Her one eye twitches as she smiles. “Wood? Like, whoooop?” She extends her pointer finger high, mimicking a boner.

  Laughter busts from my throat and I shake my head. She’s playful tonight. “No. Not like, whoooop.” I impersonate her. “It’s just a nickname.”

  She nods and moves her hands from the table, leaning closer to me. “What about you? Do you have a nickname?”

  “No. I’m too cool for a nickname.”

  This earns me an eye roll. “I’m sure.”

  “Why aren’t you out there?” I point to the pit where everyone else is.

  She shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know.”

  “Not crazy enough for you?”

  She laughs. “No. Too crazy. That’s probably why I’m sitting here.”

  “Are you not spontaneous, McKenna?”

  “Hardly.”

  “That’s a shame.” I adjust in my seat, setting my bottle of beer down. “There’s a lot of life in spontaneity.”

  She looks down, seeming embarrassed.

  I tilt my head. “You can’t do crazy, can you?” I challenge her.

  She sits up straight. “I can. I just don’t.”

  “Why?”

  Her eyes narrow. “Because.”

  “God, you’re just full of surprises.”

  “What?”

  “McKenna, you have an entire world in front of you.” I lower my voice. “You’re an all-knowing badass witch. Embrace that shit. Live a little.”

  “Well…” is all she says. She looks to the side and crosses her arms.

  I chuckle. “You’re stuck.”

  “I’m not stuck.” She says the word like it’s dirty. “I’m content.”

  Another song starts, this one louder than the others. The tempo is fast enough to dance to but slow enough that, if I want to, I can pull her to me. I move myself from behind my side of the table and stand. Offering her my hand, I say, “Come dance with me.”

  She stares at my hand with apprehension, her jaw set. She thinks for a couple of seconds and sets her hand in mine.

  Pulling her close to my body, I lock my hands behind her back, sure to keep her close. I silently groan and chew on the inside of my cheek, the close proximity to her already overwhelming all of my senses.

  I wasn’t supposed to talk to her, let alone bring her out on the dance floor. I’m setting us both up for disappointment, yet I can’t stop myself.

  She sighs contently and clasps her hands loosely around my neck, laying her head just below my shoulder. Her body shudders under mine, and I can feel her erratic heartbeat thumping against my chest.

  “You’ve never done anything like this,” I whisper loud enough for her to hear and she shakes her head, agreeing with me. “You’ve never danced with someone you’ve just met. It makes you nervous and you’re wondering if you’re going to get caught up in it—in me.” I’m tilling the line now. I know we don’t have a future—hell, or even a tomorrow. The moment I’m done with this case, Wood and I are out of here and it’s not likely for us to come back. But I want to show her what it’s like to let go, even for a night.

  “I want to let go,” she utters and I wonder if she intended for me to hear it.

  I keep silent as we dance and move to the song, the melodic m
elody lulling us farther into each other. Her scent engulfs me, her presence surrounds me, and her being holds mine. I’ve never felt such a thing. We cling to one another. Stuck—the good kind of stuck. The kind of stuck I never want to leave.

  When the song ends and the band exits the stage, the crowd disperses. But instead of going back to our booth, McKenna and I stay in our spot, listening to the music on the jukebox that now fills the air. I fight the urge to let her go. I should. I should tell her goodnight and go back to the hotel. But instead, I do something stupid. “We should do something.”

  She lifts her head, looking into my eyes with a glint of mischievous. “Do what?”

  I grip my hands harder around her and shrug both of my shoulders. “Something fun—something crazy.”

  She groans. “You’re using that word again—crazy. We’re in Summerson, Declan. This is the craziest it gets around here.” She pulls back to look at me.

  “Well, then let’s go somewhere else.”

  “It’s almost four in the morning. Where are we going to go?”

  I unlatch myself from her and pull out my phone, Googling a map of the world. “Close your eyes and point.”

  McKenna tilts her head and the corners of her mouth twitch. “You’re serious? I can’t just leave. I don’t have the money to go buy a plane ticket. Plus, I have to work tomorrow, and Declan…” She slaps my arm. “Aren’t you on a case?”

  I chuckle. “Aren’t you this all-knowing witch? Let’s blip there and come back. Two hours. Tops.” What in the hell am I doing?

  Her nostrils flare as she contemplates my offer. “I don’t blip.” She smiles and bites her thumbnail. “But we can Dissipate. But I’ve never done it with another person before.”

  I straighten my back. “Now is as good of a time as ever. Let’s do it. Point.”

  Her honey eyes widen when she sees my seriousness. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Do it. Let’s go.”

  She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, twirling her finger above my phone. After a few theatrics, she lands on a spot. Opening one eye, she squeaks.