by Amy Boyles
I completely ignored the warrior princess comment. “Dex,” I said by way of a flippant greeting. “Is Vordrid here?”
He shook his head. “He was earlier, but now he’s at the crime scene taking samples. Bruce picked him up a while ago.”
I didn’t say anything. I felt my face crumble. What was I doing here? Why come? To see Dex? To chastise Vordrid. To show how stupid and childish I could be?
“Is something wrong?” Dex asked quietly.
I nodded. “A lot is wrong.”
He threaded his fingers through his hair, giving me a glimpse at his taut tricep. “Come on. Let’s go talk in my office.”
I quirked a brow. “You have an office.”
“A lot’s changed in the past couple of years.”
I crossed my arms and leaned on one hip. “Tell me about it.”
He offered a friendly smile, which I didn’t return. “Come on.”
I followed him down a hall to a small, windowless room. He took one look inside and said, “On second thought, how about a refreshment fit for the finest of huntresses?”
I quirked a suspicious brow.
“By that, I mean the best coffee this side of the Mississippi.”
“I’d die for some.”
He flashed a dazzling smile full of perfect teeth. “Fitz makes a great cup. I’ll have him whip one up for you.”
We continued down until we reached a chef-grade European-style kitchen replete with granite counters, marble floors, some sort of ridiculously expensive Williams-Sonoma stove and a hood that made me drool.
“Wow,” I said. “Dex, where did you get all the money for this?”
He nodded as if he’d heard my question, but turned to Fitz and said, “Would you please make Andie your best midday coffee.”
“Would you like milk and chocolate?” Fitz asked me.
Of course I would like milk and chocolate.
Dex and I answered simultaneously.
“She most definitely would,” he said.
“Sounds heavenly,” I said.
We paused, aware of the tension. I felt his gaze brush over me, but I didn’t look at Dex. Instead I watched Fitz.
He started on a restaurant-grade copper espresso machine. The manservant ground beans, steamed milk and probably made the chocolate himself from cocoa that he grew in the backyard.
Hey, a girl could guess.
Dex led me to a circular booth cut into three bay windows that were of course shuttered.
“Nice kitchen,” I said. “Do you eat human food?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes I get a hankering for it. When I do, Fitz is kind enough to cook something up for me.”
I tapped my nails on the tabletop. “Like what?”
“Steak mostly. And brussels sprouts.”
I shot him a suspicious look. “You hate brussels sprouts.”
He clicked his tongue. “Somebody remembers.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
Dex leaned back onto the booth. “But I also have the kitchen for entertaining.”
Fitz delivered my coffee served in a glass goblet.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re very welcome.”
Dex glanced at the manservant. “Fitz, would you give us a few minutes?”
The manservant nodded and left.
I took a sip of the heaven that was my drink, letting the chocolate spread beautiful warmth across my tongue. Then I remembered why I’d come.
Enough of the niceties.
“What’s going on? How do you have all this? And how did you get a manservant?”
Dex smiled and glanced at the table as if slightly embarrassed. It was a look I hadn’t seen in years, and it came across as so human it made my heart stutter. Yes, stutter, skip a beat.
“Andie, I have plenty. If you need anything, it’s yours and Gabby’s.”
I showed him my palm. “We’re fine. I don’t need help.”
That was true. Dex and I had squirreled away money in our hunting days. That allowed me to own the house and the car. Not only did I have my preschool job, but interest from those accounts also trickled in every month as part of my income.
“But you can have it if you need it,” he said.
I shrugged.
Dex sighed. “I work for the supernatural tribunal. I’ve been sent here to help with things.”
I crossed my arms and leaned back into the really, really soft cushion of the booth. It sucked me in like it was tempting me to take a nap. “What things?”
“The transition. The supernaturals need a leader. That’s me. I’m here to oversee that the integration of the town is seamless.”
“Well, it’s not.”
He ignored my comment. “The tribunal pays me a good sum, and they supplied me with Fitz, who’s been working with them for years. He’s immortal, made that way eons ago by another vampire. He guards the house during the day if I’m asleep.”
“So the tribunal set all this up for you?”
“More or less. I bought the house.”
My eyes bulged. “Bought?”
Dex wrapped his knuckles on the table. He studied me. A shiver ran down my spine. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
“Well, I might have to.”
His brows pinched together. “Why?”
I raked my fingers over my scalp. “You haven’t heard? Some of the fairies in town played a nasty trick on me. They dropped slips of paper from the sky that read I’m a witch. I found out this morning I’ve been placed on administrative leave from work. Come Monday, I may not have a job. If I don’t have money coming in, no matter how measly it is, I can’t survive.”
I pushed the coffee aside, even though it was like drinking heaven on top of more heaven. “This is exactly what I didn’t want. Now the entire town knows what I am. I’ll be persecuted. My child will be persecuted. I’ll have to move, Dex. If you’re going to have me thrown in front of the tribunal for murder, might as well go ahead and do it. This day can’t get any worse.”
Dex sighed back onto the bench. He flexed his fingers and reached for me, but I pulled away.
I didn’t need the cold touch of a vampire to ease my mind.
His jaw clenched, and he withdrew his hand. “How’s the investigation going?”
I decided to omit the whole breaking-and-entering werewolf bit. “I need to talk to Cal’s family. See what they say. Of course, that assumes he has some.”
Dex nodded. “A couple of brothers. I’ll set something up for today. I don’t want you going over there alone, though. Word on the street is news has traveled fast about the murder.”
I laughed bitterly. “Yeah. Not only do the humans know what I am, but the supernaturals think I killed one of their own. This is a pretty crappy week, Dex.”
He nodded. “I’ll make some calls. As soon as the sun sets, we can go talk to them.”
I finished off the coffee with a few deep gulps. The sugar felt good in my system. “I don’t need your help to do that. I can take care of myself.”
His eyes widened in surprise. When we’d been married, I’d relied on Dex’s strength a lot. I was certainly capable, but if he wanted to take the lead on something, I let him. But I’d lived without him long enough that I was used to taking the lead, thank you very much.
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” Dex whispered.
“You sure about that? Seems somebody’s getting all hot and testosterone-y on me.”
He shook his head. His blue eyes darkened. I used to tell him they reminded me of a turbulent ocean right before a storm.
“You don’t understand,” he said.
I quirked a brow. “Don’t understand what? That you want to play pretend husband?”
He leaned one muscular forearm atop the table. “Andie, I don’t care what you think I’m trying to do.”
His harsh tone jolted me from my smart-alecky attitude. I’m pretty sure I winced, even though I tried to hide it by brushing my
bangs across my forehead. “And just what are you doing?”
He scowled, making him look dangerously handsome. “This is a safety issue, not a warrior-princess-with-her-big-girl-panties-on issue. I’m trying to keep you safe, which means I’m not letting you talk to the brothers by yourself, period. I’m going with you, whether you like it or not.”
TEN
I did not like that Dex was calling the shots. But what choice did I have? I didn’t know where these brothers lived, and truth be told, Dex’s point about safety was probably right. If I walked into a werewolf’s lair by myself, the likelihood I’d be attacked—or worse—was pretty high, if I did think so myself.
Which I did.
However, waiting for Dex to be able to step outside really stank monkey chunks since it was ten o’clock in the morning and I had to wait until sunset before we could go. Instead of spending all day in Dex’s lair, even though his manservant made one heck of a coffee, I decided to leave, do some investigating and then complete the last of my Thanksgiving grocery shopping. I still had to pick up the turkey, cornmeal to make corn bread dressing, and canned yams for the sweet potato casserole.
Yep, I know that technically yams and sweet potatoes are different, but when it comes to blending them up and adding marshmallows, they all ended up tasting the same to me.
I headed back to the Red Brick district where Stone and I had witnessed the possible werewolf. I tried to find the building we’d seen the creature scatter from.
I found the right one and traipsed to the front.
The business was a salon. Hmm. That was strange. Unless our said wolfie needed some shampoo and conditioner, why would he or she be breaking and entering a hair salon?
I swung open the door.
Reggae music played softly in the background. The place had the usual smells of chemicals, but also the faint scent of sage, as if someone had been smudging the corners to keep evil spirits away.
“Welcome,” came a male voice from the back.
I stepped around the glossed-up ivory tower of a front desk and saw several female stylists, all dressed in black clothes and wearing black heels. Wow. Heels. Were they kidding? They had to stand for hours on end, and they were cramming their feet into heels?
Call me crazy, but that did not seem like a good idea.
“Hello?”
My gaze swept to a man in a station near the back. He had thick dark hair that reached his waist, a black button-down shirt and eyeliner rimming his eyes.
“Hi,” I said, stepping closer. I thought I noticed something white in his hair. I squinted, trying to see if I was right.
Turned out, the man had seashells and bones woven into his tresses.
Well, if you don’t see something new every day.
“Hello?” he said. “Welcome to my salon. What can we do for you today, love? Like a bit of rum?”
I frowned. “Um. It’s a bit early for that. Are you the owner?”
He bowed with a flourish that startled me. “I am. Jacques Pinot.”
I had to tell you; he didn’t sound one bit French. Not even the slightest accent.
I held out my hand. “I’m Andie Taylor. I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time?”
Jacques took my hand between his fingers and brushed his lips over the back of my palm. A sliver of energy snaked up my arm. For all the weird voodoo vibe I got from this guy, he had sex appeal and he knew it. “For a woman with hair as beautiful as yours, you may have several minutes.”
“Okay, thanks.”
He clapped his hands together. “Christine, watch the front.”
Christine, a young brunette with doe eyes smiled. “Of course, Jacques. Whatever you need.”
Jacques led me into a waiting area that was completely empty. “Tell me, Andie Taylor, what can I do for you today? And might I suggest a little glaze over that hair of yours. Something to brighten your whites and make the honey shimmer like it’s never shimmered before.”
I smiled. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m not here for a consultation.”
Jacques’s eyes widened. “You’re not here to kill me, too, are you?”
I frowned. “Word travels fast.”
Jacques touched the tips of his fingers to his heart. “I may not look like all the supernaturals here, but I have Caribbean magic that’s part gypsy. News spreads very quickly in our little circle of people. Now, whether or not you’re guilty, I don’t really care. That Cal was horrible. A nasty creature.”
My brow quirked at that. “Yes? Tell me about it.”
“Only if you call me Voodoo Prince.”
I blinked. “What?”
Jacques smiled, revealing a gold canine. “It’s a name I like, and so few people will humor me.”
Okay. Whatever floats your boat. “Voodoo Prince, you seem to have known Cal.”
Jacques leaned in close. The smell of oil and incense drifted off him. “Yes. We had business dealings, him and I. I did a service for him, and he only partly paid.”
“Is that so?”
Jacques crossed one leg over the other and leaned back. “That’s absolutely so.”
“Might I ask what the deal was?”
“Ah, I gave him a body cut to end all body cuts.”
I frowned. “Body cut?”
Jacques swiped a finger over his nose. “What I like to call a werewolf trim.”
“Oh, I get it.” I licked the corner of my lip. “Last night I saw someone leaving this place. I think they may have been trying to break in. Did you find anything missing?”
Jacques scrubbed a hand down his cheek. “Not that I noticed.”
Bingo! “Mind if I do? Take a look around the back door?”
Jacques rose. “Not at all.”
He led me to the rear entrance. The lock on the knob had been broken. Someone had entered the store.
Jacques shook his head. “But I don’t understand. Nothing is missing. Everything is in place.”
I inspected the lock. It looked like someone with massive strength had simply squeezed the knob until it broke. The steel was misshapen and warped beyond repair.
“Know anybody with brute strength like this?” I said.
Jacques nodded. “Any werewolf worth their place at the dinner table could’ve managed it.”
I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s what I thought, too.”
I peered closer at the door. Stuck in the knob were two long hairs. “Do you have tweezers and a baggie?”
Jacques returned with the two items. I plucked the hairs from the door and dropped them in the bag. “I’ll see if your mayor wants to dust for prints. Until we know, stay away from the knob and tell all your employees the same.”
Jacques fingered the shells sewn into his ropes of hair. “And what are you going to do?”
I smiled. “I’m going to catch a werewolf.”
But first I needed Thanksgiving supplies. I headed over to Piggly Wiggly to stock up. I called Dot before I got out of the car.
“Is there anything you need from the store?”
“Hmmm. Perhaps some more toadstools. I’ve been working on a new potion for warts.”
“You don’t have any warts,” I said.
“Exactly. There’s nothing like being prepared, Andie.” I checked my reflection in the rearview and fluffed up my bangs. “You look wonderful, Andie. There’s no need to adjust your hair.”
I dropped the phone into the floorboard. “What? Are you spying on me?”
Dot’s voice drifted up. I felt around the dirt and grime until a metal edge brushed my fingers. “Of course I’m not spying on you. Not really. Sort of. Andie, you need someone watching over you.”
I put the phone back to my ear. “I’m doing okay on my own.”
“Yes, but sometimes you need me. Anyway, you’re asking about the store.”
I squinted at the mirror. “Do you always spy on me when I’m in my car?”
Dot’s voice sounded like I’d ruff
led her feathers. “If you’re asking if I know every time you pick your nose, no.”
“Okay. Not what I’m asking.” I sighed. “Listen, Dot. What do you need for Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Hmm. I need more of those crescent rolls in the tin. We’ve got a couple more guests, and I want to make sure there will be plenty.”
I tapped the steering wheel. “Who else is coming?”
“Dex.”
“What?” I choked on a ball of spit in the back of my throat. After a two-minute coughing fit, I was able to speak. “You invited Dex?”
“And that manservant of his, Fritz.”
“It’s Fitz.”
“Well, I see you’re old chums.”
“We are not old chums,” I nearly shouted. “I can’t believe you invited Dex. Well, you’re just going to have to un-invite him.”
“Andie, it’s Thanksgiving. You’re supposed to be kind to others and spread joy and happiness.”
“That’s Christmas. At Thanksgiving we give thanks for what we have.”
“Well, then be thankful your husband is alive and well.”
“He’s not alive. He’s undead.”
Dot sniffed. “Same thing.”
“It’s not the— Never mind. Fine. I’ll get you more rolls. Sheesh. But if you even think of inviting anyone else over, you’d better let me know first.”
I hung up and pressed my forehead into the steering wheel. Take deep breaths. Think happy thoughts. Lower your blood pressure.
This meant Dex would meet Gabby. Dex would see Gabby. Gabby would see Dex. Crap on the short end of a stick. I’d wanted to put this thing off between them, but I realized that I could only push off the inevitable for so long.
It would be fine. I had time to mentally prepare, and I would keep Gabby beside me and not let her get too close in case Dex had a hankering for baby blood.
Really? Why did I even have to think something so awful? I had loved Dex with such ferocity before he died. Because he knew what I was, that I was a witch, and Dex had wanted to protect me. I’d let him, but now Gabby needed my protection, and I no longer required the safety of anyone’s strong arms anymore.
At some point Dex and Gabby would meet. It was something I had to accept as inevitable.