The Vampire’s Mail Order Bride

by Kristen Painter

  “You think Rastinelli got a new crew in town that fast?”

  “I don’t know. I just know she’s gone.”

  Merrow squeezed the button on the walkie-talkie pinned to his shoulder. “Be advised we have a 10-57, Caucasian female, medium build, brown hair, wearing—” He looked at Hugh.

  “A blue T-shirt and jeans.”

  Merrow added that information. “Give me her 20 when found. Do not detain.” He released the button. “If you two were having a spat, she probably went back to the house. She know how to find her way from town?”

  Hugh nodded. “We’ve walked it.”

  “Get in your car, drive the route, then call me when you get home and tell me if she’s there. I hear anything I’ll call you.”

  “All right.” The sheriff had a point. Delaney had probably just gone home. He thought about phoning Stanhill, but she wouldn’t have made it back yet. He gave Merrow a nod, then took a side street to avoid the crowd and raced back to where he’d parked.

  He maneuvered the Jag out of the spot and drove toward home, following the route they’d walked. Hopeful he’d see her.

  But that hope was gone by the time he pulled into his driveway. He stormed into the house. “Stanhill? Bloody hell, where are you?”

  The rook yelled back at him from far end of the house. “In my room. What do you need?”

  Hugh stood just outside the living room. “Is Delaney here?”

  “No.” Stanhill came around the corner to stand on the other side of the room. “Why isn’t she with you?”

  “She was. We got separated.”

  Stanhill frowned. “Is that so?”

  “She got mad at me and disappeared. Happy?”

  “Of course not. But I told you so.” He rushed forward. “Where do you think she is?”

  “No bloody clue. I already let Merrow know.” Hugh could feel his heart racing, the panic building, the anger at his own stupidity churning his insides like a washing machine.

  A car screeched into the drive and even in the middle of the day, the flashing blue and red lights spilled through the front windows and washed the foyer. He turned to see Merrow jump out of the car and head to the front door.

  Hugh met him there, throwing the door wide. “What is it?”

  “Did Delaney drink anything today?”

  “Alcoholic? No. Why?”

  “One of the deputies was with Nick Hardwin when I called the 10-57 in so Nick helped search the crowd.”

  “And?”

  “The gargoyle spotted her with two largish men. She looked like she was being supported by them. Possibly under the influence of something. They helped her into a black SUV and took off before Hardwin could follow. He got a partial plate, though.”

  “He can bloody fly, damn it. Why didn’t he take to the air?”

  Merrow’s eyes narrowed. “Because we have rules about that sort of thing. Rules your grandmother put into place.”

  “Rules that should be broken when a life is at stake.” Hugh swore again. “Where were they headed?”

  “North most likely. Into the mountains past the park. There are hundreds of cabins and hideaways up there. They could be anywhere.”

  That area started directly behind Hugh’s backyard. It was one of the reasons he’d built here, to have that buffer of forest between him and the rest of the town. Hugh’s hands tightened into fists, his body tensing with the anticipation of what was to come. “Mobilize everyone you can think of. We need to search the area.”

  Delaney woke with her head hanging down and her body strapped to a hard wooden chair. She tugged at her hands, but they were bound behind her with zip ties. Her ankles were secured the same way to the legs of the chair.

  Duct tape covered her mouth. She lifted her head a few inches and pain radiated from her shoulder. She remembered being stabbed with a needle. That explained how they’d knocked her out and dragged her off the street.

  Crap on a cracker, she’d been abducted. Panic shot through her, making her gulp air but there was no air to be had, not with duct tape sealing her mouth. She had to calm down.

  Approximately 400 cacao beans make one pound of chocolate.

  People who feel depressed eat about 55% more chocolate than non-depressed people.

  July 20th was National Lollipop Day.

  Her breathing was back to normal, and although she was still scared out of her mind, she knew she needed to do whatever she could to keep herself alive long enough to be rescued. That meant clues.

  The room had stairs leading upstairs, and judging by the lack of windows, she guessed it was a basement of a cabin. Oaky paneling covered the walls, and varnished lengths of light, knotted wood that looked like branches stripped of bark made up the stair handrail. Where was she? The smell of mildew and coffee didn’t give her much insight.

  Footsteps and muted voices sounded from upstairs. Maybe from the two men who had grabbed her. Thinking about them made her shiver in fear. Not a good direction for her mind to wander in.

  She went back to assessing the room. It was a typical basement—big-screen TV, worn plaid couch from an era best forgotten, an old recliner and a few knickknacks. An open door across from her led into a small bathroom.

  She tried inching the chair forward and almost fell over. She growled in frustration. Above her, a door opened and a light over the stairs flicked on. “Hey. She’s awake.”

  At the sound of the Brooklyn accent, she went still. These had to be more of Rastinelli’s crew. Crap. She was in all kinds of trouble.

  Panic made her breathe harder, which caused her to suck in against the duct tape. It made a faint whistling sound. Calm down.

  Why had she walked away from Hugh? She knew why. He’d been giving her the cold shoulder and her fear of confrontation had made her leave. In retrospect, facing off with Hugh would have been a much better decision.

  She could have at least told him off like she had her father at his wedding. Heavy, plodding footsteps started down the stairs. Now she’d probably never get that chance.

  She turned her head to see who was coming. One of the guys from the street. At least it looked like one of the guys. It had all happened so fast.

  He stood in front of her, his black Adidas track suit and gold chain with the Italian horn not that familiar after all. A get up like that she would have remembered. He jerked his head at her, one hand resting on his protruding gut. A gold ring with the Masons symbol set onto a red stone was wedged onto his fat sausage of a pinky. “Hello there. You’re Delaney, right?”

  She grunted at him, her fear giving way to anger. What did he expect her to do with duct tape over her mouth? Sing him an aria?

  “Oh yeah.” He reached down and ripped the duct tape off.

  She said a very unladylike word, followed by, “Ow.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that, but you know.” He shrugged.

  “No, I don’t know.” He looked like a guy who’d be named something like Fat Eddie or Tommy Two Fingers. Except he had all his fingers. Fat Eddie it was. She glared at him. “Why did you kidnap me?”

  “Kidnap? Whoa, that’s a loaded word there, girly. We’s just wanted to talk to you. That’s all.”

  “We who? You and that other goon that dragged me off the street?” She glared at him. “People are already looking for me. Dangerous people.”

  He laughed. “Sweetheart, I’m about as dangerous as they get. I don’t think your little friends are gonna be much of a threat.”

  “You’re dangerous, are you? And why’s that?”

  His jovial nature went icy in a split second. “Because my boss and your boss are the same man, but I do a very different kinda job for him, if you get my drift.”

  She got it all right. “You mean you kill people.”

  He jerked back like he was shocked by her plain language. “You got a mouth on you, you know that?”

  “Am I wrong?”

  He slapped the duct tape back over her mouth, but she grimaced, giving herself som
e wiggle room behind the tape. He stomped back upstairs.

  More muted tones. Some not as muted. Then more footsteps.

  She poked at the tape with her tongue and managed to separate it from her skin enough so she could breathe better. How was she going to get out of here alive?

  She tried to think, but her head was still thick with the drug they’d given her. She also wasn’t exactly boned up on the latest survival training. Did Hugh have an idea about what had happened to her? He’d probably think she’d just stormed off.

  If he’d even noticed she was gone. He must have, right? She had no idea what time it was, no idea how long she’d been here and no real hope for getting out.

  She was going to have to figure this out herself. A ping of sadness echoed through her, followed by a sharp stab of fear. They were probably going to kill her. Like, any second. That sent a burst of angry motivation through her. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Footsteps on the stairs again. She craned her neck, ignoring the bruise from where she’d been jabbed. Fat Eddie again.

  He walked up to her, tore the duct tape off again, then plopped down on the couch. “My compatriots and I need to know what you know. If you know what I mean.”

  “Speak English, not Brooklynese.” She bit her tongue to keep from calling him a name that would only make him want to kill her sooner.

  He leaned forward, causing the zipper on the jacket of his track suit to panic. The gleam in his eyes made her think of a great white checking out a baby seal. “What did you see that night at the restaurant?”

  “Which night?”

  He frowned. “The last night youse was there.”

  “I saw a bartender pouring weak drinks. I saw a woman stuff one of the oregano shakers in her purse. I even saw a kid grind half a fried cheese stick into the carpeting. It’s a crazy world, the restaurant biz.”

  He stood, hiking up his track pants. “You think you’re funny?”

  “Sometimes, yes.” She was being a smartass, and she didn’t care. If she was going to die, she was going on her terms. Not that she wanted to go at all.

  He walked over to her, glowering. “It doesn’t matter. The boss says the word and you’re done. You get what I’m saying?”

  So they were going to kill her regardless. “Melting chocolate led to the invention of the microwave.”

  He screwed up his face. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Breathe. She had to come up with a reason for them not to kill her. A way to buy some time. Think think think. “If anything happens to me—”

  “What?” he sneered. “Your boyfriend is gonna come looking for you?”

  Maybe. Probably not. “I have an email scheduled to send if I don’t log into my laptop every twenty-four hours.”

  “So?”

  “That email is set to go to the police, the FBI, Facebook and a whole bunch of media.”

  “And I should care about this why?”

  “Because attached to that email is the video I took that night in the restaurant along with a message that says if the email’s been received, I’ve been murdered by Anthony Rastinelli.” Sure, Sheriff Merrow already had that video, but Fat Eddie didn’t need to know that.

  He laughed. “Sure, kid. You got a video.”

  “Get my phone. I’ll show you.”

  He thought for a second, then shook a finger at her. “If you’re lying to me…” But he marched upstairs, coming back down a few minutes later with her phone.

  “Okay,” he said. “How do I get in?”

  “Connect the dots in an L shape starting at the top corner.”

  He squinted at the screen, his fat fingers tracing the pattern. It took him three tries. “Here.” He showed her it was unlocked. “Now what?”

  “Gallery. Then videos. It’s the first one.”

  He watched it while she listened and mentally replayed the scene in her head. When it was over, he stared at the screen for a second, then his fingers started tapping away like he was playing Angry Birds.

  “There. I deleted it.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Really? You think that’s all you had to do? I already downloaded it to my computer, you numb nut. You think I wouldn’t make a copy? Multiple copies?” She blew out an exasperated breath.

  Fat Eddie’s expression flattened. “You little piece of—”

  He backhanded her, splitting her lip and filling her mouth with the taste of blood. Pain radiated through her face. She spit the blood out. “You feel manly hitting a woman tied to a chair? Punk. You’re going down so hard when my friends get here.” If they got there. Before she was dead.

  He leaned in, his face so close to hers she could smell his garlicky breath. “Where’s the laptop?”

  “19 Hitchcock Lane.” Maybe if she sent them to Hugh’s, he’d figure out what happened and come after her. It could be her only chance.

  Fat Eddie pointed one of his sausage fingers at her. “If you’re lying about this, I’m gonna kill you myself.”

  Hugh stripped the pillow case off Delaney’s pillow. He paused and gave Captain a scratch on the head. “I’m going to find her, don’t worry.”

  He was talking to a cat. That’s how insane Delaney’s disappearance had made him. Shaking his head, Hugh marched downstairs to where Stanhill, Merrow, his deputies and a few others had gathered, including Nick the gargoyle and Merrow’s fire chief brother, Titus.

  Julian and Sebastian met him as he hit the landing. “I didn’t expect to see you two here.”

  Sebastian’s appraising gaze held less judgment than Hugh would have expected. “You love her?”

  “I do.”

  “Then we’re here to help.”

  Julian nodded, oddly serious. “We understand she might be in real danger.”

  “Yes.” Hugh explained about Rastinelli and the confrontation with his men outside of Howlers.

  “Mafia? They still exist?” Julian rubbed his hands together. “This might actually be fun.

  Sebastian pointed to the pillow case. “Merrow going to track her?”

  “All the shifters are.” Hugh nodded. “And that needs to happen now.” He left his brothers behind and went to Merrow, handing him the pillow case. “This will have her scent.”

  He sniffed it and grimaced. “Is she a shifter?”

  “No, she’s human.” Hugh frowned. “Why?”

  Merrow sniffed the linen again. “I smell cat.”

  “That’s Captain. He sleeps with her.”

  “That explains it.” Merrow nodded. “I can find her. Provided they’re in one of those cabins.”

  “And if they’re not?”

  “I’ve already put a BOLO out on the black SUV with the partial plate Nick was able to get.”

  “Good. Let’s go.” Hugh was leaving on his own if things didn’t get underway in the next sixty seconds. Because if Rastinelli’s men had her…there was no telling what was happening to Delaney right now. If they hurt her, he would kill them.

  Hell, he was going to kill them if they left one little bruise on her.

  Merrow held his hand up. “We’re going in three teams. Hugh, Stanhill and I will be the first. We’ll handle the east side.” Merrow tossed the pillow case to Titus, who’d left the fire station to help. “Titus, you’ve got a radio? “

  Titus nodded and held the two-way up. “Right here.”

  “Good. You take Julian and Sebastian and go west. Give the pillow case to Alex and Nick after you’ve locked on to her scent.”

  Titus passed the pillow case to Merrow’s deputy Alex Cruz, a panther shifter. He took a good whiff, then passed it to Nick. Both men nodded. They were ready to go.

  Merrow pointed to Nick, who was standing by Merrow’s other deputy, Jenna Blythe, a Valkyrie. “You, Jenna and Alex go straight north. Alex will lead as tracker.”

  Alex nodded. “We’ll find her.”

  Merrow hooked his hands on his gun belt. “If we haven’t accomplished that by dark, Nick, you go airborne. Search tha
t way.”

  “You got it.” Nick shot a questioning glance at Hugh.

  Hugh shook his head, already knowing what the man was thinking. “I’ll handle my grandmother if it comes to that. Which it won’t. Night flights are permissible by any flying supernatural so long as they happen after twilight.” They were already going to have two wolves and a black panther running through the woods. Having a gargoyle in the air after dark was the least of their worries. He looked at Merrow. “Can we go already?”

  Merrow nodded. “Let’s shift and move out.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Hugh and Stanhill were deep into the woods following Merrow in wolf form as he rustled through the undergrowth searching for Delaney’s scent.

  Fifteen minutes after that, Merrow came to a stop beside the stream where Hugh had stopped Delaney from running off the night she’d found out he was a vampire. Merrow lifted his big wolf head and whuffed at Hugh.

  “It’s nothing,” Hugh said. “She and I were here. Out for a walk a few nights back.”

  Merrow went back to sniffing the ground and pawing through leaves.

  Hugh carried Merrow’s walkie-talkie and gun belt, but the weight of that was nothing compared to the burden of worry pressing on his nerves. They were stretched thin. Ready to snap at the first opportunity. Which seemed like it might never come. All because he’d been a jerk and shut Delaney out. He had a habit of putting the women he loved in danger. But he could not let Delaney suffer the same fate as Juliette. “We’re getting nowhere,” he snapped.

  “Patience,” Stanhill muttered.

  “When her life could be in danger? How the hell am I supposed to be patient?”

  Before Stanhill could respond, the walkie-talkie crackled with an incoming call. “Sheriff, this is Jenna. Alex picked something up along Carraway Lane, near the old Miller house. We’re doing a wide sweep and—”

  Merrow flashed back into human form, his pelt turning into his uniform once again, and grabbed the radio. “We’re on our way. Locate Delaney but stand down until we get there.”

  He took his gun belt back from Hugh and strapped it around his waist. “Faster to drive.”