She was well known throughout the town of Everlasting as being something of a matchmaker. Jake had learned that every pair she’d ever put together had ended up mated and married. And Jake was her newest mark.
It all stemmed from Jake helping Jolene’s nephew about a month prior. Sigmund Bails had suffered through his supernatural transition, which had occurred later than it did with most shifter males. Apparently, the new allergy meds he’d switched to had triggered the change. It had left him shifting into a were-kraken while he slept and then basically doing a shifter’s version of sleepwalking.
Though in Sigmund’s case, it had been sleep-protecting which led to sleep-attacking. The end result being that Sigmund had killed two people.
Of course, the men he’d killed were evil and part of the Collective—an organization full of zealots. Their beliefs seemed to change on a whim. The pair had been in Everlasting on the hunt for a centaur to sell at auction to the highest bidder. They didn’t care if the centaur was alive or dead.
Centaurs were rare.
Jake would know.
He was one.
And he’d been the centaur they were after. Had Sigmund not lost control of his kraken side and killed the men, they might have been able to get the jump on Jake. It wasn’t as though Jake walked around Everlasting with his guard up. No. He’d gotten used to the town being relatively harmless—unless you were a bad guy. They seemed to drop like flies.
Everlasting really needed a billboard at its entrance points warning would-be villains that death was more than likely a given.
Things could have turned out very differently had Sigmund not unwittingly intervened. Jake’s kind had been hunted to near extinction. Their numbers were low, but thankfully rising. The centaur race couldn’t afford another loss. Fortunately, Sigmund had prevented it from happening.
Jake owed Sigmund his life, so he’d taken him down to Louisiana to stay with some friends. They specialized in helping shifters and supernaturals through their changes. Mostly they dealt with kids going through their version of supernatural puberty, but every once in a while, they got a case like Sigmund’s, and they’d welcomed him with open arms.
Sigmund was thriving and still down south. He hadn’t needed Jake there hovering, so Jake had headed back to Everlasting. Since then, Jolene had been making it her mission in life to see him happy and dating. It was her way of thanking Jake for not arresting Sigmund and for covering up what the man had done. Jake couldn’t take all the credit for protecting Sigmund. The town of Everlasting had seen to it he was shielded from harm in regards to the bad men. In fact, the official reports listed a boating accident as the cause of their deaths.
Not death by way of kraken.
It didn’t matter that Jake hadn’t been the only one to protect Sigmund’s secret. Jolene had singled him out, and had even enlisted Sheriff Bull, having the sheriff pump Jake for questions about what he found attractive and what he didn’t. The entire conversation had been incredibly awkward—for Jake.
Bull got a kick out of it.
The minute Sheriff Bull had left on vacation, Jake had nearly jumped with joy. But then he’d gotten a call telling him that he had to take his SUV over to Jolene’s. He knew then the sheriff had woven a web and Jolene was the matchmaking spider at the center of it.
There were days he really wondered why he’d bothered to leave the city, as a homicide detective, to start work in Everlasting. Gossip and busybodies simply hadn’t been an issue for him in the city. No one had ever once tried to fix him up on any dates while he was there.
In many ways, he’d lived a solitary life in a sea of people. Unlike Everlasting. He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure why he’d made the change. Jake didn’t need the money the job provided. He’d been alive for hundreds of years and had enough money tucked away to live comfortably for hundreds more. But he liked the job. He liked the law. It was in his blood.
And Francine Bull was nice, but tough as nails and a no-nonsense kind of woman. She also had a thing for men of a certain age group. She liked the look of them. That was how Jake had gotten roped into posing for a charity calendar without his shirt on, wearing a pair of jeans, holding handcuffs and a badge.
From that point forward, he was known as Deputy March around town.
He nearly groaned thinking about it.
He was not a sex symbol. Not that he was some sort of prude, because he wasn’t. Wearing his alpha on his sleeve just wasn’t something he felt he had to do. Long ago, he’d learned to be comfortable in his own skin. As a shifter male, nudity wasn’t something he shied away from. Then again, he didn’t exactly run around town in the buff either.
Keeping a low profile was all he’d ever strived for in Everlasting. It had seemed like it would be easy enough. He wasn’t so sure anymore. He was just a guy who had wanted to get as far away from his problems as he could. He’d ended up in Everlasting and hadn’t looked back.
Though, if the Collective was onto him, his time in the town would be limited. He’d have to move on again or risk a local getting caught in the crossfire. That wasn’t something he’d ever do. And if the Collective got their hands on him, it wouldn’t end well. He knew he’d fetch a pretty penny at auction, and end up stuffed in some crazy guy’s den or held captive in a cage to be shown off for the rest of his immortal life.
No thanks.
“Did you hear me?” asked Jolene, drawing Jake from his thoughts.
“Sorry, ma’am, no.” He’d drowned her out somewhere around the twenty-minute mark of the dating interrogation.
“I said you can’t be putting this long between oil changes again,” she scolded.
“Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t plan to bring the SUV back for any maintenance ever again. Not if it would involve being subjected to matchmaking. He’d make someone else at the department do it. Though with as tenacious as Jolene was, she’d merely hunt him down—probably with photos of possible women in hand.
He cringed.
She kept working, and Jake found himself fidgeting, wanting to get away before the woman started in again on finding him a date.
“So, do you like blondes then? Because there’s a sweet young woman who works out at the truck stop on the edge of town. She’s newer to town, and just a peach. Since she started working there, the food has been delicious. I could fix you up with her,” said Jolene, her voice partially muffled as she continued to tinker with something in the SUV.
“Ma’am, I’m fine. Really. I don’t need to be set up on a date. I can find women on my own,” he returned evenly, though he wanted to shout as much. But, he strongly suspected she’d pretend she couldn’t hear him. Her hearing seemed to be very selective as of late.
He tried to keep his cool. It was harder than it appeared. He found himself adjusting his gun belt, which was something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. Both of which tended to only happen when the topic of dating came up. Sure, he liked women. And there had been a point in his life when he’d been all about them, with little thought for anything else. But he’d matured, and the times had changed. Life had taught him there was so much more than sowing wild oats.
He put his head back against a column, careful to avoid going down a mental memory lane that would haunt him for days. Instead, he focused on the service station. Vintage oil cans lined a shelf high in the garage area, and Jake knew similar ones were in the office as well. Someone had once told him that Jolene’s father had been the one to build the service station, and that he’d collected the cans. To Jake, they were junk, but to another they were a treasure.
Jolene poked her head out from under the hood, a smear of grease on her cheek. She lifted a brow. “You’ve been in Everlasting for a spell now. Seems to me you’ve not dated anyone. Guess you have more trouble than you know when it comes to the opposite sex, Deputy March.”
Jake let out a long, slow breath through his teeth. She meant well. He knew as much, but she was driving him mad with the need to find him a woman
. He didn’t need anyone in his life at the moment. He’d finally been able to settle down and adjust to life in a small town. He didn’t need any complications. And a girlfriend would most certainly be a complication.
“Ms. Bails, the Collective still has a price on my head,” he said, hoping that by reminding Jolene the crazy zealots wanted to capture him, she’d stop pushing.
She snorted and waved a hand with a red handkerchief in it in the air. “Oh please. We can all handle them. It’s finding your perfect mate that’s the real challenge.”
At the word “mate,” Jake stiffened. He narrowed his gaze. “I thought we were discussing me going on a date?”
“We are.”
“Then why bring up a mate?” he asked, the topic a sensitive one for him, like many supernatural males who had been alive hundreds of years. There came a point in every immortal’s long life when they had to resign themselves to the fact they would never find their mate—that one special person made just for them.
Jake had come to that realization nearly a century ago.
While he looked no older than his late twenties or early thirties, he was in fact nearly five hundred years old. That was a long time to roam the Earth alone. It wasn’t as if his own kind had welcomed him with open arms—the bastard son of a human and centaur pairing.
Jolene stepped back and closed the hood of the SUV. Her gaze found him, and she grinned. “Go big or go home. Isn’t that the saying?”
He gulped and nodded.
She chuckled. “Well then, now that we have that cleared up, let’s talk about redheads.”
Jake tossed his hands in the air in defeat. “I surrender.”
Jolene chuckled. “You lasted longer than most when I get my mind set on fixing them up. That was Mrs. Mays on the phone just a bit ago. She said she saw a lovely young lady getting off the bus. She’s a brunette. Do those get your motor running? I don’t know much about her yet, but I intend to. Maybe she’ll be a great fit for you.”
Jake gave up trying to talk her out of fixing him up. “Yeah, maybe.”
“I can tell by your tone you don’t believe me,” said Jolene, looping her arm through Jake’s as she steered him in the direction of the office. “You’ll owe me a thank you if it turns out she’s the one for you.”
“Tell you what, if she’s the one for me, I’ll buy you some goodies from the bakery. I heard you have a sweet tooth,” said Jake, grinning down at the woman.
She perked. “Oh, I do. And I’ll hold you to it.”
FOUR
KELSEY STARED at the photo on her phone of the picture-perfect small vacation rental in Maine, nestled in the woods. The cabin in the photo was not only well-maintained, but it had every element one could desire: great weather, a huge front porch with rocking chairs, and wildlife.
To really drive home just how fantastic the rental was, the photo included a deer out front and several small bunnies. All looked happy to be there, as if they too called the cabin home. In addition to that, there was a rainbow in the sky above it, really driving home the tranquility and peacefulness of the cabin and its location. What was pictured was exactly what she needed.
Unfortunately, the picture and reality were two very different things. Polar opposites even. In fact, the picture that had called to her, leading to her taking a long bus ride and seemingly endless walk, looked nothing like what stood before her.
Had she made a wrong turn? Did she have the wrong address? She held up the phone, staring at the serene photo and the address listed just beneath it.
“No wrong turn,” she said softly as she rechecked the faded numbers on the mailbox at the end of the dirt drive leading up to the cabin. “You’re at the right address.”
Unfortunately.
Lowering the phone, she looked at the real-life version of the rental property. It was a far cry from the picture-perfect one featured in the photo. The run-down, barely standing cabin before her couldn’t possibly be the same one featured in the ad, could it? Was the picture thirty years old?
“Photoshop,” she said with a groan.
Her heart sank as she realized her luck was still terrible. Somehow, she’d managed to convince herself that perhaps her fate had taken a turn for the better.
It is going to get better. Focus on the positive.
It’s a place to stay for now.
The cabin would be fine. Despite the fact that it looked as if it might tip over should a leaf fall on it.
Boards covered the front windows and a discarded board that looked to be the same size as the front door lay on its side despite a front door being on the cabin. “No trespassing” signs littered the front lawn and the small dirt lane leading up to the cabin. Nature had begun to claim the signs, with vines and grass covering portions of them. A red bird landed on one of the signs that warned of loaded weapons on site. The bird didn’t look too worried.
There was one sign that was nailed to a tree that read “Trespassers Won’t Be Seen Again.” Rust from the nail had dripped down the sign, making it look as if it were streaked with blood, and giving it an ominous vibe. Not that it needed any help in the creepy department. The whole place screamed serial killer’s paradise.
Another of the signs that was staked into the yard read “Trespassers Will Be Dealt with Accordingly.”
She half expected someone with a shotgun to come out and start shooting.
She glanced again at the picture on her phone, and the lovely write-up that had accompanied the photo. The description spoke of a babbling brook, a tranquil retreat, a place Mother Nature’s creatures called sanctuary, and more. No mention of threatening signs, of boarded-over windows, or the fact that it looked like it was barely standing. She’d fallen for the ad’s promises, all the while knowing they were too good to be true. Desperation had clouded her better judgment.
“You’re smarter than that,” she chastised herself, wishing she could turn back the hands of time and not bother coming all this way. Then again, she’d had nowhere else to go.
The price had been unbelievably cheap. Looking back, she realized it had been far too good of a price. And the man on the phone—who had insisted she call him Captain Petey, and who had a thick New England accent—had been far too accommodating. When she’d spotted the ad and had called, never giving any thought to the hour (which had been ungodly early), the man had been cheerful and helpful. He’d even told her she didn’t have to worry about having no credit card to secure the reservation. Cash would be just fine, and she could pay him after she’d arrived.
As she stared at the cabin that looked as if it had been used as a prop in various horror movies, and possibly the inspiration for countless more, she started to wonder if Petey was up to no good and luring her to her death. With the week she’d been having, it wouldn’t have shocked her any.
She didn’t have a place anymore in Boston. And she had no job there. Nothing to go back to. Blowing out a long breath, Kelsey adjusted her backpack over her shoulder and took a step toward the cabin.
The front door opened and out walked an older man. He wore a pair of yellow fishing waders, black boots, a red sweater, and a black knit cap. His salt-and-pepper hair stuck out from under his knit cap in all directions, looking unruly at best.
He smiled wide and moved with a quickness that surprised her. He was down the front steps of the cabin and to her in seconds, extending his hand. The smell of fish and whiskey poured off him. “You must be Kelsey. Folks around here call me Captain Petey. Wait. I told you that already on the phone, didn’t I? Sorry. I get a little mixed up sometimes. It is what it is, I suppose.”
He didn’t look like a serial killer. He looked like a kind older man who’d leaped out of a Hollywood advertisement for fishermen.
She relaxed.
He didn’t give her a choice as he took hold of her hand (the one holding the phone) and began to shake vigorously. “Nice to meet you. Do you love the cabin? It’s everything I said it was, isn’t it? She’s a beauty, isn’t she?�
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Kelsey stood there, letting the man continue to shake her hand as she stared past him at the cabin. He thought the place was a beauty? “Um, it’s something all right.”
“I told Wilber the cabin was special, not to let it sit empty,” said Petey, still shaking her hand. “I told him I’d get the right person in to rent it. I asked Polly to help me with the ad. She swore it would attract the one who needed to be here. Wilber didn’t believe me and told me I couldn’t do it.” He rubbed his wiry chin. “Wait. Maybe he said I wasn’t allowed to do it. I don’t really remember now. I should have spent less time eating special brownies in the sixties and seventies. Bet my memory would be better then.”
“Wilber?” asked Kelsey, wanting her hand and arm back. “Special brownies?”
Petey didn’t seem as if he would be letting go anytime soon. He looked her over and then stepped back, pulling her with him. “You’re very pretty.”
She tensed.
Petey grinned wider. “I’m going to put a call in to Jolene and see who we can get you paired up with. She’s the best at matchmaking and fixin’ cars. She’s a real Jill-of-all-trades. I bet you’d be perfect with Sigmund. Well, that is, whenever he gets back from where we had to send him. Was it Mississippi? No. North Carolina? No. Canada? No. Oh, Louisiana! I think. And only if he’s done killing people.”
“I’m sorry, what?” asked Kelsey. She didn’t want to be paired up with anyone.
“I thought you’d be in earlier, and for a minute thought the kraken got you. Then I remembered Sigmund isn’t here right now. Heard the bus was running a bit late today.” Petey released her hand, and Kelsey yanked it back quickly, hoping the feeling returned to it before too long.
Kraken?
Total Eclipse of The Hunt: A Cozy Paranormal Mystery (The Happily Everlasting Series Book 5) Page 3