Red nodded, gratitude tightening her throat, wordlessly trying to thank Stace again with her eyes. Sinking into the chair in front of the three-ring binder, she heard the door close behind her but couldn’t look away from the thick dossier.
Gina McGregor had been a Bard worthy of mentoring a Hero. Red wasn’t surprised that the report had a table of contents for its stuffed contents. Sections had names like The Fire on Sycamore Row, Coroner’s Report, and Who was Brooke Peters? There was even a bibliography and index. She flipped to the first page.
I wanted to begin my opening summary with the bittersweet celebration of discovering the evildoer and avenging my dearly missed friends. This dossier will be a testament to futile efforts and unverified hunches.
Some facts have been corroborated, however.
On July 22nd, 2010 at 8:54pm, the Peters home was engulfed in flames. Firemen battled the inferno to pull out the remains of Brooke Peters, 41 years old, at 9:27pm. It took two days to collect 13 bone fragments identified as Emma Peters, 17 years old. All the concrete evidence indicates the mundane—a gas line breaking in an old house soon ignited by candles in the attic. In the beginning, I expected it to be a riftquake or even retaliation for defeating the Alaric Order as Zach insisted. As of this writing, I am still left wondering why the Peterses died and, moreover, who they were.
Hands shaking, she turned the page. She had picked up enough to wonder about her mother arriving to town a widow, leaving her own past behind. Cautious enough to put a glamour on her daughter, but still allowing her to be mentored by a Bard. The two facts clashed in her head. Red had come to Charm to find out about Emma, but the real question mark seemed to be around Brooke.
Continuing the summary, she learned her father’s name—Russell. She told herself not to tear up again. What did he look like? He hadn’t come up when she had searched her mom on the internet. She supposed family photos were another casualty of the fire.
Exhaustively detailed witness accounts and records filled the section on the housefire. She itched to go get her own journal to take notes but couldn’t force herself to move. Then she reached the coroner’s photos.
A charred skeletal face stared back at her.
Red slapped the binder shut, steadying herself on the table even though she was sitting. The torched bones, seen only for a second, were imprinted on her eyeballs. She saw them even with her eyes closed. Chest hurting, she gagged on the bile in her throat and pushed away from the table. She slipped out of the study into the hall and to the bathroom. Later, mopping her sweating face, she gargled mouth wash and trod shakily back to Aunt Gina’s dossier.
She hadn’t been physically sick at the sight of a corpse in a long time. A stranger was world’s away from seeing her mother. She couldn’t make herself sit and open the binder.
Stace opened the door, peering tentatively inside. “Hey, its sunset. I can leave you here, but I thought that I’d ask if you want to come ghoul hunting?”
“Yeah, I could use a fight.” Eyes watering, Red sniffed and nodded. Her mind still swam with the sight of the coroner’s photos. The thick report of an expert Bard’s failure to fully explain her mother’s death conjured helpless outrage like a hex. Gearing up in silence, she accepted the rising anger; it was easier than the grief.
She took bagged ghoul hexes, ghostflowers mixed with graveyard dirt, from Stace and set them in her hunter’s kit. Gripping an axe, she trotted down the back steps and into the backyard, following the others through a back gate. They tramped through the meadow separating the lonely strip of old houses from the Charm cemetery. Sunset was thirty minutes before, giving the ghouls enough time to wake and smell their fallen brethren. The heads were left out as a lure for the colony which should swarm, drawn to the rotted meat. Even if it was their own kind.
In a black and gray houndstooth-patterned coat and a small fascinator hat pinned amid her luxurious dark curls, Stace could have been mistaken for an Instagram street fashion influencer. Except for the katana in her hand.
Bow and quiver on his back, Zach held a black-painted super soaker filled with ghostflower-infused water. He stalked through the field like a marine through no-man’s land, leading them toward the narrow strip of woodland fringing the boneyard. He’d be the first assault to soften by the colony.
A figure darted from the trees, then another.
Red only had a moment to lift the axe, wondering how ghouls had gotten faster, when they stopped.
Skin unblemished, suits immaculate, they were far from decayed. It was the Novak Brothers. Two dozen vampires in black camouflage with sheathed swords at their sides followed at a distance. Kristoff’s reserved expression, tinged with arrogance, cracked at the sight of her. He recovered in a beat, raising his fist lazily. The warriors behind him halted. A bat flew overhead before it transformed into a pale man who joined the squad.
Dark haired Arno had the easy Novak confidence and cleft chin. Turned in his early twenties, he looked fresh faced in undeath, but had been Kristoff’s right hand for the last century. He whispered to his brother, gaping at her. Red had only met him briefly in LA. He had been the one to let her inside Club Vltava, vetoing the bouncer’s call to deny them entry, because “his brother liked redheads.” She wondered if he ever regretted that decision.
Zach glanced between her and the vampires, stepping closer.
Kristoff approached Stace, hands clasped behind his back. “The Prince of Portland sends his regards and warriors to take out this pesky infestation.”
“You didn’t need to bring the whole gang.” Stace peeked around him at the waiting cronies. “We had this covered.”
“Yes, you have quite the illustrious hunting party.” Arno chuckled sardonically, scanning the hunters. His gaze lingered on Red. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. Even if you did ruin my Halloween Ball.” At Kristoff’s frown, he crossed his arms as if it to say well, she did.
Red matched his body language. “That coup wasn’t my fault.”
Glaring at the vampires, Zach stepped to block her from their view. For an empath, he wasn’t hiding his feelings well—he wanted to drop his water gun to grab the bow on his back.
Kristoff shot his brother a side eye.
“I’ll go do the hard work then. Again.” Arno sprinted back to his men, disappearing into the cemetery.
Zach stepped back to Red. “You know them?”
“Long story.” She looked away from Kristoff’s grin, cheeks warming as the archer analyzed them.
“Who else is watching us, Novak?” Stace glanced at the others behind him. Without the more conspicuous soldier vamps, the few in civilian clothes stood out in the shadows of the trees. One male vampire perched in the high branches apart from the rest. The weak moonlight caught the icy blond of his hair. At her look, he disappeared as if becoming one with the gloom.
“Locals wanting to see their tax dollars at work on this ghoul colony. Mainly Yuki and his nest. They aren’t too fond of you, Bonner.” Kristoff reached into his pocket for a phone. “It’s a good thing my Prince is.”
Prince Marek appeared on the screen, seemingly a ten-year-old dressed as an undertaker. His dark hair was parted and smoothed over as if ready for church. No supernatural would have overlooked him, even in a video call. Red couldn’t imagine how an unsuspecting human could have taken him for a child with the centuries haunting his eyes. Unlike at the tribunal in LA, he didn’t have a glass of wine with him. “Has it been a year, Bonner? I expect that we can keep up our little agreement without a physical handshake.”
Stace crossed her arms. “Tax season again? You usually don’t send troops along with your enforcer.”
“I earn my tributes. Ghoul hunts are under a supreme master’s duties. I am cleaning up our community for the sake of the Dark Veil. In the spirit of neighborliness, what else can we improve in in this fair little village?”
“Besides the ghoul infestation, nothing that concerns you.”
Ignoring the bite in the woman’s
tone, the Prince smiled, showing fangs. “Don’t look glum. I know you prefer a supreme master keeping the local vampires in line from afar, and I prefer a sensible Hero who stays at their post, defending the good people of Charm against portal hoppers. It was hell on the Dark Veil Assurance muting the paranormal rumors without you.”
“I’m staying put if that’s what you’re asking. See you again in a year.” She twisted her shoulders to go.
“I am sorry about Hamsterdam. I do so love a good pun.”
Stace stiffened, glaring back at the video. “I bet. Chuckles all around.”
“Don’t be sore.” Prince Marek paused, the glow of the screen on his eyeballs as he leaned closer to his camera. Even pixelated from the lagging connection, Red couldn’t look away. His presence could fill a room even without in him it. “My man Novak here will leave once the tithes are fully collected. Of course, that is if he can tear himself away from his claimed hunter.”
She stiffened, locking eyes with Kristoff who uncharacteristically fumbled with the phone as he said goodbye.
“This is the one who claimed you?” Zach dropped his water gun to his side, flinging the other hand toward Kristoff. “The enforcer?”
Regaining his trademark cool, the vampire shrugged. “Guilty as charged.”
“I didn’t realize it would be relevant,” Red said quietly, shifting on her feet, setting the axe in a loop on her hunter’s hit. “Put the weapons away, okay guys?”
Stace gripped her katana handle, unsheathing two inches of the blade. “We have two ways of going about this, Novak. You leave my friend alone and enjoy immortality or… well, you can fill in the blanks.”
Red stepped between Kristoff and the others. “No fighting. He’s a friend.”
He looked surprised, a soft smile at his lips.
“The friend you stayed over with last night instead of us?” Zach asked. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier? We talked about everything.”
Stace looked away, too slow to hide the shock and worry crinkling at her eyes. “It’s a plot twist, but it’s totally cool and we can talk about it later. Alone.”
“Whoa, we’re all jumping to conclusions. I didn’t sleep over like that.” Red put up her hands. “Don’t freak out over, essentially, a hunting buddy. We worked together in LA, and he helped me out with the assassins in Vegas.”
“Vampires, cops, who else do you work with?” Zach winced as Stace slapped his arm for the comment.
Kristoff rolled his eyes. “She’s not a double agent. The Prince doesn’t care enough to infiltrate you.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, dead man. What do you have on her? I know how you operate.”
Red looked away, the implication still stinging. “Nothing. I take allies as they come to get the job done.”
“We’re not doing this here.” Stace nudged Zach’s shoulder, whispering into his ear.
Hugging her arms around her, Red wished she could go back in time and break the news her own way. It wasn’t like she could blame them for jumping to conclusions. Most humans claimed by a unsouled vampire died horribly. She had seen what happened with Trey and Donal firsthand. An honesty policy and boundaries weren’t exactly common. In their shoes, she’d have already been planning on how to vanquish Kristoff and get away with it. She had staked the previous dead man who had claimed her, after all.
Stace tugged Zach away from the vampire. “We’re going to go, and you’re going to take care of this ghoul thing.”
Kristoff ignored her, waiting for Red. His bearing was as straight as usual, but the remote arrogance slipped, revealing the uncertainty.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, repressing the strange desire to smooth the tension in his brow. “Just go. I’ll text you later.”
He straightened his cuffs, casting an unimpressed askew glance at her companions. The next second, he disappeared in that peculiar vampire way. Red wished he could have jogged a bit instead of underscoring his abilities.
“Does he make you check in with him?” Stace whispered as if afraid he could hear, worry lines appearing around her mouth.
“It’s not what you think. I’m not his servant. I barely see him. I hold more of the cards than you’d guess,” Red reassured. It was a hard sell because they weren’t wrong to be worried. Unsouled vampires did terrible things to girls like her. She knew from experience. They hadn’t been there to see Kristoff earn karma points helping the good guys. Nor were they privy to the leverage she had over him. “The claim has come in handy since he’s an ambassador. Scares most supes off.”
“Is that what he said he was?” Stace asked, mouth cringing in sympathy like she was preparing herself to break bad news as if Kristoff had a baby mama.
Zach beat her to the punch. “He’s one of the top Capos in Marek’s mafia. The tithing is a shakedown. He’s here to collect cash or pull out fangs. We don’t stop him because he usually stakes one or two of them. Don’t be naïve.”
Gritting her teeth, Red balled up her fists. “I’ve read the Brotherhood reports. I know what he is.”
Sweat beading on his forehead, paler than usual, Zach gestured back toward the cemetery. “I know men and their feelings. I don’t like what I’m reading off Novak. He doesn’t want to stay in the friendzone!”
Annoyance and embarrassment heated her cheeks. The empath was a little too perceptive. “It’s a work relationship. But even if it weren’t, its none of your business.”
Stace squeezed his shoulder. “Hey…”
“I don’t want to bury Emma again.” Shrugging away the touch, Zach stomped away. “I can’t.”
Red watched him go, shaking her head. “I’m lost. What’s up with the blaze of protectiveness? You guys talked to Chuck, so you know I can handle a master vampire when I want to.”
“We know Novak differently, I guess. It’s a bit of a shock.” Stace took off her little hat and frowned at it. “I was going to tell you to think about it from Zach’s point of view, but that’s not fair. You weren’t there. How could you know what it was like after you disappeared?”
“It must have been hard.”
“We stopped being kids that night. Neither of us handled it well. After spending most of high school saving people and solving mysteries, we couldn’t do either for our best friend. Demon hunting was like a game before that. We were a trio chopped down to two, but it was different for him. You were his oldest friend, the only one for a long time. He never gave up on you. Everyone else did. The cops, the Bards, me, but not him. He kept watch for a sign that you were alive.”
“I didn’t know,” Red said, searching for Zach’s retreating back in the gloom of the cemetery. When they had swapped life stories earlier, she wasn’t the only one who had left out the darker times.
“We didn’t want to dump on you. I guess it was mutual. I was just so happy to see you. This is what we always wanted, but it wasn’t an easy road back home, I can see. It makes me want to cry when I think of what you might have suffered.”
Forcing herself not to tear up, she hugged Stace, squeezing tight before releasing her.
“Your amnesia makes you vulnerable in a town like this. Even if he didn’t work for the Prince, Novak is unsouled. You hung around with Quinn. They aren’t all like that.”
“I’m not saying he’s a boy scout, but killing me would rock his boss’s truce with you. Even if he wanted me dead, he’ll keep the peace because it fits his agenda.”
“You two looked comfortable with each other,” Stace said delicately.
“There’s a lot of reasons for that which have nothing to do with sleeping together,” Red said before sighing. She sounded defensive. “He’s earned the benefit of the doubt with me.
“Why didn’t you tell us about him?”
“You describe Emma as being a fantastic witch and hero. I’m just some chick trying to survive, in over my head half the time. In this life and others, I’ve done things I’m not proud of, and it’s not due to him. It’s more like he’s adjac
ent to it.”
“We’ve all done stuff. Neither of us expect you to be angel.”
“Before I learned about Emma Peters, I discovered Juniper St. James. It’s a saga so we might as well walk back as I tell it.”
After catching up with Zach, Red took a deep breath to explain the past life that had caused so much trouble in her present. She laid out the good (helped Father Matthew with the soul curse), the bad (vampire’s courtesan), and the ugly (homicidal vendetta). There were details too intimate to share like the warlock’s revelations about Juniper’s aborted destiny, but she told the truth of her past life, even adding a few of her own slides into the moral ambiguity. The story didn’t end until they were on their third cup of tea in the kitchen. “I told you the good first, to ease you into it before the evil past life stuff and the credit card fraud in this one.”
Cocoa Puff on his shoulder, Zach fed a pellet thoughtfully to the hamster. “Don’t you realize that in two different lives, you struck a blow against the Alaric Order? If the Blood Alliance knew…”
“They all assumed that I killed Alaric.” Stace swirled her teacup. Sorrow lay heavy over her delicate features. “We got a confusing vision and didn’t know who was destined to get him, so we killed him together. I felt bad to take all the responsibility.”
“It might have kept me safe for a bit.”
Stace sighed. “Zach, I think I’m a believer. You might have been right about that Blood Realm theory.”
“I didn’t want to be right.” He leaned forward, voice fervent. The hamster skittered on his arm to the tabletop.
“You think I was wrenched into another dimension?” Red strained to reconcile the idea with what she thought she knew.
“Alaric wanted to release the originals from the Blood Realm. The door was open when you killed him. The vampires in our world might not have seen, but what about the ones on the other side?”
“I don’t understand.” Muttering, Red leaned back in the chair. Vic had half-joked once that she had been kidnapped by dark fairies, but the idea of another dimension had been too fantastic to consider.
Small Town Witch: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 5) Page 8