shadows of salem 01 - shadow born

by hamilton, rebecca

  I’d always figured that sweeping was some kind of vampire talent, but considering the number of other supernaturals here, I wasn’t so sure now. Just how did it work, anyway? I’d thought that sweeping meant the memories were literally being swept away from the surface, but with the number of patrons frequenting this space, I was pretty sure that was impossible. Maybe the furniture was spelled to keep memories from imprinting on it, which was why I wasn’t getting any flashes. Or maybe there was something else about this that I just didn’t understand.

  I snorted at that. There was a lot about the supernatural world that I didn’t understand, which was something I planned to remedy as quickly as possible. I might not be able to use my talent on the club itself, but I was reasonably sure it would still work on the people. And the thing about clubs was that you could brush against numerous bodies and no one would ever know you were secretly looking into their pasts.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of dark blond hair—Vox, heading up the wraparound staircase that led to the mezzanine.

  I followed, giving him a little bit of a lead so that he didn’t notice me. I suppose I could have just grabbed him, but I didn’t want to cause a scene in a place like this. Besides, I was curious to see where he was headed.

  The mezzanine was a kind of lounge-slash-gaming area, with several pool tables set up as well as two dart boards, all of which were in full use. Green lamps suspended from the ceiling shed soft light over round dark wooden tables, and at these sat patrons, sipping drinks and talking quietly.

  I spotted Vance in a corner, his head bent low as he discussed something with a woman in a silver dress whose skin turned the color and texture of bark when I looked at her out of the corner of my eye.

  Despite the pool tables and dart boards, I had a feeling this section of the club was where supernaturals came to talk business. But as much as I wanted to strain my ears and listen to their conversations, I couldn’t, because Vox was continuing down a shadowed corridor.

  Casting one last glance at the tables, I hurried after Vox. The dance music receded as I headed deeper into the dark hall with velvet tufted walls the color of wine. The whole place was a bit much, but I guess it was standard for a fancy club.

  Vox had already disappeared, presumably through one of the many brass doors lining the walls. Rather than try each one, I headed for the one that was cracked open and spilling soft light into the hall that was otherwise only illuminated by the faintly lit wall sconces.

  “I see,” a deep, Scottish voice said as I peered in through the crack.

  I could make out the silhouette of Vox bowing before a man seated behind a grand mahogany desk. The man wore a dark suit with a blood-red tie, and judging by the breadth of his shoulders, I didn’t think he was small. Thick, inky hair framed his face, and while the angle and the lack of light made it hard to get more specific details, I got the impression of aristocratic and handsome features.

  “And so you’ve come to beg another boon of me?” the man continued.

  “Please, Lord Tremaine.” Vox seemed to bow even lower. A visible tremor went through his spine, something I found interesting because he didn’t seem like the type of man to cower. Whoever this “Lord Tremaine” was, he was powerful. “It’s my only hope.”

  I leaned in a little closer, pushing the crack infinitesimally wider so that I could try to hear more. But just as Tremaine opened his mouth to speak again, a vice-like grip clamped around my arm and yanked me away.

  “Hey!” I yelped as my assailant swung me around. I reached for my badge instinctively, then swallowed hard at the sight of another Mountain Man. This one had white hair cropped close to his skull and eerie eyes the color of winter frost. There was something ancient and alien in those eyes that sent a shiver crawling up my spine.

  “We don’t take kindly to eavesdroppers,” the Mountain Man growled as he spun me around. He secured my wrists behind my back with a zip-tie, then grabbed them with one hand while clamping down on my shoulder with his other hand.

  “Let me go!” I stomped on his foot, hoping to dislodge his grip. Unfortunately, my attack was about as effective as, well, stomping on a mountain, and only resulted in a bolt of pain shooting up my ankle.

  “Not a chance. You’re coming with me, and if you even think about screaming, I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to the selkies.”

  CHAPTER 5

  I kept my mouth shut and gritted my teeth as the security guard perp-walked me to the end of the hall as if I was the fucking criminal. The audacity of it set my teeth on edge, but even if I didn’t believe his threat to cut out my tongue, I doubted that saying anything would do any good in a place like this. In fact, it might just draw a couple of vampires up here, and that was the last thing I wanted to deal with.

  As we came to a stop, the guard released my shoulder, then used his free hand to wrench open a door to my left. He confiscated my glock, then shoved me unceremoniously into the room and slammed the door behind me.

  I twisted to the side, saving myself from the oncoming face-plant and smashing my shoulder into the cement floor instead. Pain radiated through my body, and I grunted, shoving myself up onto my knees just as the door bolt slid home with a loud click.

  Fuck.

  I glanced around, trying to determine if there was any means of escape, or at least a weapon I could use to free my wrists or defend myself. But the room was completely empty and devoid of windows. All I had was a lone caged lightbulb flickering overhead. I was in a concrete cage, and with my hands tied behind my back, I couldn’t even reach for my cellphone to call for help or grab for the vampire gun pressing unhelpfully up against my rib cage.

  My heartbeat ratcheted up, and I had to take deep breaths to calm myself. Think, Brooke, think. I had to keep my mind occupied, or I was going to lose it in here. What new information could I glean from my latest predicament?

  The empty room was one thing, I mused, glancing around the space. Aside from the overhead light, there wasn’t a single thing in the space. And from my experience, businesses rarely had empty rooms in their buildings. A good business used every inch of available space as efficiently as possible, so if this room was being kept empty, it was for a reason.

  With the thick cement walls and reinforced door, I was beginning to suspect that this was exactly that reason: a holding cell for people like me who they caught snooping around where they shouldn’t be.

  What the hell kind of club needs a holding cell, though? Then again, this kind of club catered to a unique clientele. I could all too easily see security needing a place to temporarily hold a supernatural that got too out of control or broke the club rules in some way. I mean, the logical thing to do would be to toss them out on their asses, but maybe there were circumstances where that would be unwise.

  Speaking of supernaturals, the guard had threatened to feed my tongue to a selkie. Did that mean selkies were a thing, or was that some kind of joke? After what I’d seen tonight, it wouldn’t surprise me if selkies did exist.

  I was dying to know what kinds of supernaturals did exist. I’d tried to learn when I was younger. As a teen, I’d picked up a dusty tome in a thrift store once about mythical beasts and took it home to study, but Uncle Oscar burned it the second he caught wind of it. Of course, I’d gotten to glimpse a couple of the pages inside first, and they spoke of shapeshifters and witches and elementals and all sorts of things—but that was just a book.

  Right?

  And nothing in that book that I’d gotten around to reading had spoken of large men with limbs as hard as rock. What kind of supernatural were the security guards here? If World of Warcraft could be considered a source for supernatural creatures, their hulking forms and eerie eyes would indicate they were giants or orcs or trolls.

  But that was video game, and this was the world I lived in. I needed a way to separate fantasy from reality. A way to know just as much as the creatures who frequented this club knew. Somehow, I had a feeling I couldn’t ju
st up and ask the security guards when they came back.

  If they came back…

  Focus, Brooke. You’re trying not to die.

  Right. The reason I was in this whole mess in the first place was because they’d caught me snooping around. Of course they weren’t going to take kindly to my questions. If I wanted answers, I was going to have to survive this place.

  There was a jangle of keys, and I turned my head back to the door just in time to see it open. My heart stopped as Tremaine stepped into the room, along with the guard who’d manhandled me earlier as well as a second one. The two hulking men flanked him, and though they were a good foot taller, there was something about the aura radiating off Tremaine’s tall, muscular frame that told me he was the most dangerous of the three.

  A moment later, as he stepped into the light and I got my first real look at his face, my heart stuttered back to life.

  If God and Satan got together on a sunny day to create something, I imagine they would have come up with something similar to the savage perfection that was Lord Tremaine’s face. My gaze traveled across high, broad cheekbones that looked as though they could slice steel, down the length of a straight, Roman nose, and paused at cruel, sensual lips that were pressed into a straight line. His triangular jaw was strong, his skin tanned and glowing ever so slightly in the lamplight.

  He was, in a word, otherworldly, but it was his eyes that captured my attention most. They were a brilliant green, the color of new leaves, and though they appeared human at a glance, there was something more ancient and alien about them than even the arctic stares of his security guards. Those eyes, framed by thick black lashes, widened as green fire sprang to life inside them.

  “It’s you again!” he growled, his Scottish burr growing thick with anger. I stumbled back instinctively as he took an angry step toward me.

  “Me again?” I dug my heels into the ground to keep myself from scurrying away from Tremaine’s menacing presence. Sure, he might be scary enough to send the monsters beneath my bed running for cover, but that didn’t mean I had to let him see it.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I pressed.

  “Dinnae give me that,” he snarled, his Italian leather dress shoes clicking across the concrete as he closed the distance between us. “I’d recognize yer silver hair and witchy eyes from ten thousand leagues away. I dinnae know why ye’ve come back again, but I wilna let ye sink your meddling claws into my affairs anymore.”

  “Dude.” It took a lot of effort for me to keep my voice even—Tremaine was less than a foot away, and the anger radiating from his big body was so palpable I swore it was singeing the tip of my nose. “I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, but I’ve never laid eyes on you in my life. Believe me, I would know if I’d run across someone like you before.”

  Heat suffused my cheeks at that little slip, and I straightened as best I could with my hands still zip-tied behind my back.

  Some of the anger left Tremaine’s eyes, and his green glare grew cold, calculating. “Yer telling the truth, or at least you believe yerself to be.” His gaze raked me up and down, sending a tremor through my spine, and his eyes lingered at the detective’s shield winking at my belt. “A cop now, are ya?” he asked, disbelief ringing in his voice.

  “Yes, I am,” I said tightly. “And with the way your man over there manhandled me and took my gun, I’m well within my rights to charge him for assaulting an officer.” I glared at the guard in question, but if he was the least bit intimidated by my threat, he didn’t let it show.

  “I know all of the police in this town,” Tremaine murmured, his eyes still studying me as though I were a particularly vexing puzzle. “I would know if you’d been hiding under my nose as a member of the force.”

  “I’m a new transfer,” I snapped, scowling. Not exactly the truth, but he didn’t need to know that. “Not that I need to explain myself to you. Now why don’t you untie me and give me my damned gun back? I came in here after a suspect, but if you don’t let me loose now, I sure as hell will come back here with a task force and a warrant to scour this place top to bottom. I’m sure we’ll be able to find something dirty enough to get your panties in a twist.”

  Tremaine laughed. “The police dinnae scare me.” He scoffed. The sparkle of amusement in his eye sent a flush through my body, and I gritted my teeth against his asinine response. “But while we’re on the subject, who’s yer suspect? I cannae imagine it’s me, or ye would have said so already, aye? Yet, that’s the logical conclusion since ye were eavesdropping outside my door.”

  “That’s none of your damn business.”

  “It is if yer in my club,” Tremaine said, his voice softly menacing.

  I was going in circles here. “Fine, then. Remy Vox,” I snapped. “My partner and I are looking into an alleged drug-dealing operation he’s got on the side. Now I gave you something. Tell me something.”

  Tremaine’s eyes narrowed, and he turned away. I watched as he spoke quietly to one of the guards, and though I strained my ears to catch what they were saying, I couldn’t hear a single word. Dammit. Why couldn’t I have been born with super-hearing?

  “Yes, sir,” the guard said. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Good.” Tremaine straightened. “Take care of her, too.”

  He turned and headed toward the exit.

  “Wait…what?” I cried as fear ballooned in my chest. “You can’t kill me. I’m a fucking police officer!”

  Tremaine didn’t even bother to glance my way, and as the guard who’d originally brought me here closed in on me, I lost sight of Tremaine’s retreating back. Cursing, I tried to fight against the guard as he grabbed my shoulder and wrists, but it was impossible with my hands tied behind my back. Besides, if the kick I’d given him earlier was any indication, I doubt that I’d be able to make a dent in him with brute force. I wondered if either of my guns would work on any of these guys.

  “Your boss is gonna land your ass in jail,” I warned. “You would be better served to let me go and return my firearm.”

  No response.

  I growled as the guard dragged me down the stairs and past the dancing and drinking patrons. A few of them glanced my way as we passed, but for the most part, we were largely ignored. Was this a fairly normal sight for them? Ugh. That thought didn’t make me feel at all better.

  “You’re gonna end up with a whole police force snooping around here, and you can’t disappear them all,” I tried again. “Don’t take the fall for this one. Jail isn’t a pretty place, even for a tough guy like you.”

  “Not worried about it,” he said, voice void of any emotion.

  He dragged me through the kitchen, a large area behind the bar full of stainless steel appliances and white tile. The air was heavy with the smell of fried food and the sound of sizzling meat; my stomach would have growled had the situation not been so dire. Despite my struggling and shouts, the kitchen staff didn’t spare more than a cursory glance our way.

  The guard shoved me through the back door, and I stumbled into the dimly lit back alley. I would have tripped over the cobblestones if the guard hadn’t snagged me by the arm…not that I was thanking him or anything, since they clearly meant to kill me.

  “Let me go!” I shrieked as loudly as I could, hoping that someone outside the club—someone who might give a damn—would hear me and come running.

  Except my screams seemed to die as they fell off my lips. No echoing off the walls, nothing. The alley was eerily silent; I couldn’t even hear traffic whizzing by in the distance. It was like we were in a bubble.

  And yet, I tried again, because it was all I could do at this point.

  “Scream all you want, love. Nobody’s going to hear you back here.” A nasally voice caught my attention, and the guard hauled me around, bringing me face to face with a short, bald man sitting on a trash can. He looked me up and down, his mud-brown eyes gleaming with interest as he swung his short legs back and forth over the edge of the can. T
he guy focused his gaze on my assailant. “Another one, eh?” he asked. “You guys sure seem to be into ‘taking care of business’ lately.”

  “Just shut up and deal with her already,” the guard growled.

  The guy lifted a stubby hand, and wild fear raced through me as I realized that this little man was somehow going to kill me. Something icy burned around my wrists, and a loud crack split the air as my restraints fell away. The guard holding me startled, and he loosened his grip just enough for me to tear myself away.

  “Don’t move!” I shouted, pulling my vampire gun from its holster. I backed away, alternating the barrel of my gun between both men. “I’ll shoot!”

  The guard looked at me as though I were a mild annoyance, and the bald man laughed. “Just what do you think you’re gonna do with that, kid?”

  I hesitated, thrown off by how blasé the two of them were about my gun. Would my bullets even affect them? “You’re both under arrest for assaulting a police officer. Put your hands up.”

  The bald guy shook his head. “It’s no wonder the bossman wants you taken care of,” he said ruefully. “If you’re stupid enough to think that prison cells can hold us, then you don’t belong here.”

  He lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers in my direction. Glowing green sparks drifted from his fingers, and I squeezed the trigger reflexively against the attack. Not exactly the reaction I would have to a human suspect wiggling fingers at me, but I learned a long time ago that you don’t give supernaturals the same courtesy if you want to live.

  “Oww!” The bald man cried as the wooden bullet ripped through his shoulder. His mud-brown eyes flashed an eerie yellow as he slapped his hand against the wound, and I gaped as golden liquid, rather than blood, stained his fingers. “Damn, lady, just what are you?”

  “I’m pissed, and if you guys don’t give me back my other gun, I’m going to—”