Good, the Bad, and the Vampire

by Sara Humphreys

  Why wasn’t he here? They’d shared the dreamscape once before. It didn’t make sense that he wouldn’t be dreaming with her now, especially after everything that had happened.

  Dakota? Trixie shouted and looked around her frantically. Can you hear me? Where are you?

  He’s not here.

  A woman’s voice, one Trixie had never heard before, piped up from behind her, scaring the hell out of her. Fangs bared, she spun around to find herself face-to-face with an elderly woman. A tanned face, shriveled by age, was framed by gray hair that hung in twin braids all the way to her waist. She wore a long white nightgown, and a blanket with an Aztec design was draped over her narrow hunched shoulders. Her feet were bare, and her arthritic-looking hands were curled around a crooked wooden walking stick.

  Put your fangs away, girlie. The old woman laughed and pounded her walking stick in the dirt before leaning on it with both hands. They won’t do you no good in the dreamscape. Besides, I’m the one who brought you here. I’m Isadora.

  Isadora? Trixie sheathed her fangs and folded her arms over her breasts, feeling like anything other than a tough girl in her David Cassidy shirt. Pete’s friend?

  Well, his daddy’s friend. A cheeky grin cracked the old woman’s face and she winked. Me and Asmodeus used to knock boots back in the day. He ain’t the Demon of Lust for nothing! Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. From what I hear, you have some witch’s blood running through your veins, and Asmodeus’s boy thought maybe I could help you sort it out.

  She moved slowly but steadily toward Trixie, her frame stooped over and her gaze curious. Without saying a word, the old witch walked a full circle around Trixie, inspecting her like some kind of science experiment. Isadora said nothing but nodded as though she was confirming something before finally stopping and standing right in front of Trixie.

  I like your hair. Isadora placed one hand on the small of her own back and arched a bit, as though stretching out her stiff muscles. I might have to try something like that the next time I step into my younger self.

  Your younger self? Trixie asked.

  It’s a spell I use to make me look like I used to. Isadora winked. It’s easier to get laid that way. I’d teach it to you but seeing how you’re a vampire, you don’t need it. Anyway, they’re right. You have witch in you.

  Okay, Trixie said slowly. Great. What’s the deal with gargoyles? Why can witches sense them, or whatever?

  How can you not? They stink. Isadora wrinkled her nose. But not all witches can detect them the way that you can. Only witches who are descended from the Rathbone family line have that particular gift. We thought that line had died out. Isadora sniffed and pursed her lips while giving Trixie the once-over. Guess not.

  Why? Trixie narrowed her eyes and let out a growl of frustration. I mean, why do the Rathbone witches or me or whatever feel pain when the gargoyles come around?

  Pilar Rathbone, the last full-blooded witch of your line, got involved with a couple of gargoyles. She loved to mix it up with the menfolk: human, vamp, gargoyle. You name it. She liked a good time. According to the story, she did her gargoyle lover a favor, cast a spell for him, and then he jilted her. Left her high and dry.

  Isadora shrugged and adjusted her stance with the cane. All of us witches have different gifts, passed down through the generations. The Rathbone family line was able to detect the presence of gargoyles. But since you aren’t a pureblood and you have no training…your gift is diluted.

  That’s it? Trixie let out a curt laugh and set her hands on her hips. I can’t learn to control it or anything? The pain keeps getting worse, and the last time I turned into a useless heap.

  That’s because you let your fear take over. Isadora thumped her cane on the ground, a ferocious glint flickering in her pale gray eyes. That is your worst enemy, girl. Fear. We fear what we don’t know, what we don’t understand. But now you know the truth. That feeling you get when the gargoyles show up is just a warning bell. That’s it. It ain’t gonna hurt you unless you let it. She grabbed Trixie’s bicep with one gnarled hand and squeezed. You’re a strong little thing. Tough as steel, I bet. You can handle those gargoyles, girlie. They can’t take you down—not unless you allow them to. You’re a vampire, for goodness’ sake. The fear…that is your undoing.

  Trixie swallowed any argument she might have had because Isadora was absolutely right. Fear was holding her back—and not just with the gargoyles.

  If you want to learn about casting spells and brewing potions, that I can help you with. But not the Rathbone curse. The old witch walked over to a small round boulder and groaned as she sat down. Like the gargoyles, we thought that family line was gone. I don’t know more than the story I told you.

  Curse? Trixie added quickly. You didn’t say anything about a curse.

  Relax, girlie. Isadora laughed, a dry raspy sound like leaves rustling on pavement. It’s just a saying, an expression.

  Then why did you come here? Trixie asked. Feeling completely defeated she sat down on the rock next to the old woman. Why even bother?

  You ever dream like this since you turned vamp or when you were human? You ever do any lucid dreaming?

  No. Trixie let out a sigh and folded her hands in front of her. An armadillo skittered past before vanishing in some brush. Just the one shared dream with Dakota. But we’re bloodmates, so that’s supposed to happen. I’m actually surprised he’s not here.

  He’s not here because I’m keeping him out. I wanted to work with you in private, which is why we aren’t meeting in town like we were supposed to. She looked sidelong at Trixie. Besides, I don’t make a habit of hanging around vampires in the flesh. My blood is too powerful and I wouldn’t want anyone to be tempted to—

  We would never—

  Save it. Isadora held up one hand and shook her head firmly. Don’t take it personal. Anyway, like I was saying, as a witch, you also have the ability to manipulate your dreams. You can use them to help you remember things that you may have shut away, or you can come here to solve a riddle that you can’t quite figure out. The dreamscape allows us to see the world more completely: a fuller picture than on the earthly plane, where you only see through your eyes. Here, you can see the full picture. She started to rise to her feet and Trixie gently grabbed her elbow, helping the old witch regain her footing. My connecting with you here was a way to help you unlock that part of your magic. I uncorked it, so to speak. The rest is up to you.

  Thank you but how do I do it? Trixie looked around and stuck her hands in her pockets. I mean, how do I get back here?

  Your mind and imagination are a witch’s most powerful gifts. Like anything else you want to be good at, you have to practice. Set aside your insecurities and don’t allow yourself to be intimidated by your own power, Trixie. Isadora patted her cheek gently. Anytime you want to come back to the dreamscape, all you have to do is think about it…and here you’ll be. Not only that but your mind and imagination can aid you in times of trouble. They are the source of a witch’s power.

  What about Dakota?

  What about him? Isadora laughed and started walking away. You want him here and he’ll be here. If you don’t, then he won’t. Remember what I said, girlie. Your worst enemy, and the one thing that will keep you from fulfilling your destiny, is fear. Fear is the killer of dreams.

  Wait. Trixie called after Isadora but her image began to fade. What if I need your help?

  Don’t worry, girlie. She laughed. I’ll be around.

  Isadora’s words lingered on the warm Texas breeze as she vanished in the distance. The old woman was absolutely right. Fear had kept Trixie from fighting back against the gargoyles. It had stopped her from being involved in Chelsea’s life. Fear was what held a human being a prisoner of addiction. And it was the only barrier preventing her from taking the final step with Dakota.

  No more. After this craziness was over and the
y found her granddaughter, Trixie would shove all that fear aside and complete the bloodmate bond with Dakota.

  Fear had ruled her life and stolen her past, but she would not let it hijack her future.

  Chapter 14

  They’d made love twice more last night but Trixie never drank from Dakota. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to ask her why—but he didn’t. He had promised her that he’d give her time, and that’s exactly what he planned on doing.

  No matter how crazy it was making him.

  He’d seen her blood memories a few times now, but they had gotten fuzzier instead of clearer. He had a hunch it was because of her witch bloodline. Shane had told him that Maya had a similar issue due to her unusual family history. That answer should have satisfied Dakota, but it didn’t. He had fully expected to walk in the dream realm with her when they slept.

  Yet, they didn’t.

  Instead of dreamwalking with him, she was with Isadora. Dakota frowned and scanned the area below as they flew toward town. He wasn’t exactly thrilled that some old witch had invaded Trixie’s dreams and kept him out, but at least Trixie had remembered the area where she’d found the gold. A small comfort, but he’d have to settle for that—for now.

  Trixie was still hiding from him and from herself. He knew she’d been a drug addict when she was human, and she carried a huge amount of guilt for giving up her daughter. But why would that keep her from bonding with him?

  It was frustrating as hell.

  They landed just outside the center of Fredricksville and walked the rest of the way into town. Luckily the sun went down a bit earlier this time of year, which gave them a bit more time to poke around town. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed being back home until he got here, and nothing made him feel more at ease than wearing his own duds instead of a sentry uniform. He’d reclaimed his favorite plaid shirt, his faded Levi’s, and the brown-and-yellow snakeskin cowboy boots. Definitely not the usual sentry gear, but he didn’t miss the sidelong glance Trixie gave him as she looked him up and down.

  “I like it.” Trixie walked next to him, matching his stride. “It suits you.”

  “What does?” Dakota continued scanning the area around them. He’d felt uneasy ever since he woke up.

  “The hat, the clothes, the boots.” She smirked at him as they rounded the corner onto Main Street. “You are definitely in your element.”

  “Thank you kindly.” He tipped his hat to her and skimmed his gaze over her from head to toe. She was clad in her usual T-shirt and jeans ensemble, topped off by a black leather jacket. Her blond-and-blue-highlighted hair was slicked back, showing off her stellar bone structure. High cheekbones, an upturned nose, and a strong chin came together to form her beautiful face. “We may be on the hunt but I figured my sentry uniform might make us look out of place.”

  “Don’t worry, cowboy.” Trixie slapped him on the arm. “I’ve got the whole looking-out-of-place thing covered.”

  “If you ask me, you’re lookin’ beautiful as usual,” Dakota said with a wink. He pointed up ahead. “The town has grown a bunch over the past couple of years. Gatlin’s address is here on Main Street but I don’t recall any apartment buildings. It’s mostly retail space and restaurants. It’s number 640A, and if I’m rememberin’ right, then it should be just up here on the left.”

  “Maybe it’s an apartment above a store or—”

  “Shit.” Dakota came to an abrupt halt, almost bumping into a young couple as they strolled past, hand in hand. “It’s a dead end. That’s what it is.”

  Trixie was about to ask him what he was talking about when she saw the business they were standing in front of. “A UPS store?”

  “Looks like our boy Gatlin had a post office box. These places give you a regular-lookin’ address but really all you get is a box.” Dakota adjusted his hat and peered in the window of the small shipping store. “Damn. So much for him havin’ a home here.”

  “Now what?” Trixie cracked her knuckles and her voice wavered barely above a whisper. “Where the hell did he take her?”

  “Hey. We’ll find him.” He settled both hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him. “We knew this was a long shot. Even if he had an actual home here, we knew it was unlikely that he’d still be here.”

  “Yeah, but we thought at least we’d find another clue or something.”

  “We still can.” He pointed to the sign in the door and kept his voice low, not wanting any passing humans to hear him. “There are too many folks in there now, but they close in about an hour. We’ll come by and have a little chat with that young lady behind the counter. We’ll glamour her and get a peek at whatever might be in his mailbox. Or maybe she knows him or where to find him. Just because he doesn’t have a place here in town doesn’t mean he isn’t around. He could live on the outskirts or in another town nearby.”

  “Great.” Trixie slipped her fingers around the chain and curled her hand around the coin. “What are we supposed to do for the next hour?”

  “You said you remembered a landmark last night when you were with Isadora, right?”

  “Yes.” Trixie nodded. “Sorry about that, by the way. I mean, about you not being there.”

  He wanted to grab her and tell her she damn well should be sorry, but they had more pressing matters at hand than his wounded ego.

  “That’s not important right now,” he said curtly. “Anyway, I have an idea how we might be able to find your landmark. Come on.”

  Dakota spun on his heels and strode along the sidewalk, not waiting for Trixie to respond. Anger and frustration were starting to take hold, and that only made him more pissed at himself. This wasn’t him. He didn’t let emotional crap get to him. He’d left emotions and love and all that other stuff behind in his human life.

  What the hell was he doing?

  “Where are we going?” She caught up right away and fell in step alongside him. “You said it yourself—that park is over a thousand acres. How the hell are we going find the spot in an hour?”

  “The Internet.” Dakota gestured to the tiny brick building at the end of Main Street. “We’ll hit the library and see if an online search comes up with any pictures of the rock pyramid you remembered.”

  Unlike the center of town, the library was deserted. Besides the one young lady behind the counter, Trixie and Dakota were the only other people in the building. It didn’t take long to pull up the information on the park, but none of the images that scrolled across the screen matched the rock formation Trixie described.

  “We’re closin’ in five minutes.” The young woman from the front desk kept her voice at librarian-appropriate levels and gave them a shy smile. She flicked a glance at Trixie’s hair but looked away quickly, making her way around to check the computer screen. “I’m Mary, by the way. Did you folks find what you were lookin’ for?”

  “Not really,” Trixie said with a sigh. She pulled the necklace out and started fiddling with it again. “And all these rocks are starting to look the same.”

  “Oh!” The librarian adjusted the stack of books in her arms and settled them onto her hip. “You’re here to visit Enchanted Rock State Park! I should’ve known a couple of city folks like you were here to see that.”

  “She’s the city folk.” Dakota winked and jutted his thumb at Trixie, who was sitting next to him and glaring at the screen. “I’m a little more local, Mary.”

  “Are you familiar with the park at all?” Trixie pressed the chain to her lips and clicked the mouse, looking for more pictures. “I went camping here when I was little, and there was this one spot that was really cool. It was a cluster of boulders that looked kinda like a pyramid. Maybe ten feet high?”

  “Oh sure, that’s on the west side of the Dome, I think. You know, that huge gray mountain?” Mary said casually. When Dakota and Trixie snapped their heads up eagerly, the poor girl actu
ally took a step back. “Jeez, you folks sure are excited to find it.” Her shoulders sagged and she rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you aren’t more of those silly people who are runnin’ out there lookin’ for gold.”

  Dakota stilled and caught Trixie’s eye before turning his attention back to the librarian.

  “Gold?” Trixie asked in an almost inaudible tone as she casually made sure the coin was still hidden beneath her shirt. “Y-you know about the gold?”

  “Oh please.” Mary giggled and waved her free hand before adjusting the pile of books again. “Everyone around here knows that silly old story.”

  “Apparently not,” Trixie murmured. She arched one eyebrow and glared briefly at Dakota. “What story did you hear?”

  “Our town has quite a scandalous history, you know. There was this gang of outlaws who hid their loot somewhere in the area, but when they went to get it, it was gone. Each one accused the other of takin’ it.” She plopped the books on the table and tugged her brown sweater tighter around her before rushing away. She kept talking as she vanished into the book stacks. “I have a book all about the town that’ll tell you the whole story. A local fella, he was kind of our unofficial town historian, he self-published it last year. Poor guy. He passed on about a month after it came out. It was his life’s work, that book.”

  As she moved deeper into the stacks, Dakota and Trixie slowly turned to face each other, and she looked no less surprised than he did.

  “This gets weirder by the second. Too bad the guy is dead. We could’ve talked to him,” Trixie murmured. “She knows about the gold but obviously not the gargoyles.” Her brow furrowed as she rose from the chair, keeping an eye out for the librarian. “Why didn’t you know about this story? I thought you said that you grew up around here.”

  “Beats the hell outta me.” Dakota stood next to her with his hat both literally and figuratively in hand. “Hang on, now. I do remember hearin’ a story about some bank robbers or somethin’ like that.”

  “And you didn’t think the two could be connected?” Trixie asked with waning patience. “Maybe Hector and Addie know something. We could glamour them if we had to.”