by Karen Greco
He slid a business card across the table to me. The name on it was Lincoln Davis, and it included a cellphone number. "Next time you come into town, we'd like to know about it before you cross the border. Just a consideration."
"You guys are like your own little supernatural vigilante group," I said. "How cute."
He grinned, and I caught sight of his sharp canine teeth. He was definitely the alpha. "Now Ms....?"
"Martinez," I offered.
He cocked an eyebrow. "Martinez?" he asked.
I nodded.
"You wouldn't happen to have had a run in with a pack in Connecticut a few months back?"
Darcy and Casper both exchanged glances before leveling their stares at me. I took a breath, mostly out of habit since I didn't technically breathe anymore. Honesty was probably the best policy with this guy.
But I kept it short and sweet. "Yes."
"Hm," he said. He leaned back in his chair and took a long pull on his bottle of Bud, his eyes never leaving my own. "That's my cousin's crew."
I nodded, sipped at my own drink, and kept my mouth shut.
"He's a real son-a-bitch. Asked us to come down and help control the vampire population." He gave that a little snort. "Seems you had an infestation."
"Beta-Vamps," I said. "Harmless creatures, just want to be left to themselves."
"I told him that," he said, chuckling. "Then you handed him his ass."
"Well, I wouldn't quite characterize it as that," I said. "He got in bed with the wrong lady, is all."
Leila had his cousin by the balls. She spelled his little girl to turn wolf before she went through puberty. Turning into a werewolf is bone-breaking work, literally. A small child can't handle that sort of trauma. Leila essentially held this little girl hostage so that the pack would feed the Beta-Vamps a bad blood supply, effectively decimating the vampire population using the undead equivalent of HIV.
"Your mother," he said. My poker face melted away, revealing my surprise. "Yup, I know that women running the show over there is your mother."
"She gave birth to me, but she's not my mother," I said, swallowing the remainder of my drink. The burn of the liquor took away the sting of the word mother.
"Fair enough," he said. "And I agree, he did get in bed with the wrong lady. Should've got into bed with you."
I ignored the wolfish grins coming from his pack members. "You talk to your cousin lately?"
"Nope," he said. "We don't get along that great. He's still pissed I wasn't willing to help him out with your ma's diabolical plan. Why would I?"
"Indeed," Darcy chimed in. "Sounds like you have a good thing going here. Why complicate that?"
"It'd only call attention, right?" I added.
He nodded. "I like the way you ladies think." He glanced over at Casper again. "But I still can't figure out what the hell you are."
"I like being mysterious," Casper said, casting his sad eyes at his untouched drink. Knocking it back would have added a touch of drama.
"Ain't that the truth," Darcy mumbled.
"So," I said a little too loud. His pair of lackeys turned their heads towards us to make sure we were still behaving. I needed Lincoln’s undivided attention. "Has your cousin's pack gone missing?"
Lincoln narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean ‘missing’?"
Darcy kicked me under the table again. I ignored her.
"Exactly that," I said. I pointed to the cellphone case attached to his belt buckle. "You may want to call his wife, assuming they didn't snatch her up, too."
Lincoln pushed himself up from the table, glaring at me while he pulled out his phone. He crossed the room in three long strides, phone in one ear, finger in the other.
"What are you doing?" Darcy hissed. "You're going to piss them off."
"They have an air of simmering anger," Casper agreed. "What if this boils it?"
I rolled my eyes. "A risk we've got to take. If we want to liberate the supernats from Steele City — wolves included — it couldn't hurt to have a pack on our side."
"Okay, but let's reverse the roles for a second," Darcy said. "Would they help us?'
"Normally? No," I said.
“Why not?” Casper asked.
“Wolves are pack animals,” I explained. “They keep to themselves, lived in remote areas, and keep as much of their business as they can within their pack. They would never liberate any non-werewolf caught up in any penal system, fair or otherwise. They look out for their own.”
“So why are we even talking to them?” Darcy asked.
“That behavior may have saved them in the past, but now it’s a huge liability for the entire supernatural community to close ranks. The fact that this alpha found a way to work with witches, vampires and whomever else tells me that he recognizes this. This guy’s asshole cousin not withstanding, he’s someone I want on our side.”
“Fair enough,” said Darcy. “Just tread carefully please.”
While we waited for Lincoln to return, Casper and Darcy continued to press me for details on the Frankie incident. Their questions were met with one-word answers and I squirmed in my seat even giving those. By the time he got back, I wished I could ghost out like Casper.
"You nailed it, lady," he said, settling back down into his seat, a new bottle of Bud in hand. "Cousin's gone missing, plus a bunch from his crew. You got any idea where his ass is holed up?"
I prepared to explain the situation at Steele City when Lincoln pushed his chair back and leapt to his feet. "Charlie!"
Lincoln sprinted across to the room to his two fellow pack members. The chubby one, Charlie, took a knife in the gut, the silver hilt still stuck in his torso as the blood spread across his flannel shirt. The alpha and the pockmarked one were surrounded by four humans who held various silver-coated weapons. I assumed the sawed-off shotgun that one guy pulled from under his duster was loaded with silver shells.
"Crap," I muttered. So much for a night off. I nodded at Casper to get behind Darcy, silently wishing he was still invisible. Then I got to my feet and shielded both of them.
"Boys, you are in the wrong state for this shit," Lincoln growled. I took a second to marvel at the control he had over his body. His nails grew out razor sharp, and his canine teeth gleamed in the bar neon. It wasn't a full moon, so an all out turn wasn't in the cards, but I was impressed that he controlled his deadliest parts.
"You're harboring fugitives from our state," one of the men responded, jerking his head in our direction. "We just came to take what's ours."
"By stabbing one of my boys?" Lincoln asked. He flexed his fingers, itching to lash out.
"You were awfully hospitable to them," one of the lackeys said. He spit on the floor for good measure.
"Kurt!" Charlie cried out, leaving a bloody handprint on the pockmarked werewolf's shoulder. "It burns. It burns, man!" The smell of charred flesh seared my nose. The knife was doused in holy water.
"So who's next?" the one with the shotgun asked. A grin spread across his face. He leveled the gun at me. "Whatcha gonna do about it, witch?"
This time, it was my turn to smile. No one knew I was no longer living, so they didn't bother bringing a stake to the party. I looked at Lincoln. At his nod, we both dove into action.
I went after the one with the gun first. My teeth sank into his flesh and blood rushed into my mouth, overwhelming me briefly before I found my rhythm. Warm and salty, the blood didn't sate my hunger. To the contrary, it made me crave more. I drew on his neck harder, draining the life out of him as I reached the 10-pint mark in seconds. I tossed the limp body aside and moved to the next man, who was now scrambling to get away from me and Lincoln, whose claws were in the man who knifed Charlie. Lincoln ripped out an internal organ.
I took a second to appreciate skinny Kurt, who was knocking some serious sense into guy number three. With Kurt fighting like a professional bantamweight, I turned to my attention to the fourth guy, who brandished a straight edge blade. Before I could lunge for him, he snatched Darcy and
held it to her throat.
"Don't come any closer!" he shouted. The tremble in his voice betrayed his fear. I wiped the blood off my mouth with the back of my hand and stalked around him.
"I can see your blood moving under your skin," I said, licking my lips.
He pressed the blade to her throat. "I mean it, I'll cut her. You come any closer."
Casper slipped behind me like a wisp. "Nina, he'll kill Darcy."
I stopped and blinked a few times, staring at Darcy's panicked face. All she needed to do was wail to end this. But with living werewolves in the room, she wouldn't risk it. I forced myself to ignore my hunger. The man relaxed his grip on the blade. I tamped my hunger down, which was not easy. And now we were in a pickle.
"Tell your friend to stop, too" he ordered. I nodded at Kurt, who let the guy he was fighting sink to the floor.
But instead of relaxing, he pressed the blade back into Darcy’s neck. “The other one, too,” he said, panic rising in his voice.
A quick glance behind me told me that Lincoln was stalking toward the man like he was prey.
"Lincoln," I said, shocked at how normal I sounded, "let this guy be."
"You kidding me?" he asked, his voice throaty and canine.
Leila's henchman yanked Darcy toward the door. "You're letting us walk out of here." He pointed the blade at me before turning it back on Darcy. "And you're coming with us. No funny stuff or your friend here..." He grinned.
Right. There was no way I was letting them go. Leila had no idea I turned. The element of surprise was on my side. Or it was. Until I ate one of her guys. And I didn't want these fools tattling.
Darcy cleared her throat. "Let's go, Nina," she said. "Now." Her long eyelashes fluttered as she blinked in quick succession. A single tear slipped down her cheek. Oh. Shit. She was going for it.
"Yup, right now," I said.
"But—" Lincoln started.
"It was great to meet you," I said, snatching my leather jacket off the back of the chair. "I'll be in touch."
"You'll be in prison," he said. He glared at the guy holding Darcy hostage.
I winked at him. "You'll be my one phone call."
"Just be sure to turn up the music after we go," Darcy said, leveling a serious look at Lincoln. "Real loud, okay?"
The thug with the blade to Darcy's throat dragged her to the door. I raised my hands in mock surrender as Kurt’s victim, his face bloody and eyes puffing up, got to his feet. He gave me a weak shove and then, still unsteady from the beatdown, held onto me for balance. I practically carried him out the door.
A dark blue van was parked just outside. Darcy was shoved in the back, and I followed behind her.
The guys jumped in the front seats and slammed their doors. While they were high fiving each other for a job more or less well done, "Sweet Home Alabama" cranked up on the bar's sound system. Darcy's sniffles turned into a sob.
"Goddammit," one of them swore. "Are we going have to listen to her boo-hoo all the way back to Providence?"
"Knock her ass out," the other one said.
Just as he turned to do exactly that, Darcy burst into her wail. I pressed my fingers into my ears while her high-pitched sobs threatened to shatter my eardrums.
Since there was always a threat of death, I'd never heard Darcy wail before. The cry was more musical than I imagined, almost beautiful in a haunting way. Regardless of her melodic harmonies, the ear-piercing shrieks were deadly.
The two men moved in slow motion as the dire circumstances of their situation dawned on them. One tried to dial up assistance on his cellphone, a perilous mistake for whoever was on the receiving end of the call. Both men’s eyes widened and blood oozed out of their ears, dripping onto their shoulders. Their own cries of agony were no match for Darcy's lethal ones.
When their twitching stopped, Darcy shut her scream off, just like cutting out the radio. She looked up at me, her mascara formed raccoon circles under her eyes, which she wiped at with the back of her hand.
"Well done," I said, surveying the dead bodies slumped the front seats. The sudden quiet felt strange.
She sniffled. "Thanks. Not bad for the first time on command."
"You've been working on it?"
She nodded. "With Matty."
"That practice paid off."
Casper floated through the closed door of the bar. If the werewolves didn't figure out he was a ghost before, they did now.
I pushed the van door open and climbed out. "How's Charlie?"
Casper peered into the front seat. "Doing better than these two meatheads."
"That's a relief," Darcy said, jumping on to the pavement.
"So we like werewolves now?" Casper asked. I crossed my arms and shot him my best disappointed-in-you look. "What? It's hard to keep track!"
"Lincoln's a good man," I said. "And it's all about the alpha."
"Ain't that the truth," Darcy said.
Lincoln barreled through the door and stopped abruptly when he saw the three of us outside of the van. He looked into the front and gave a low whistle. "I heard y’all were good," he said. "But this is some next level shit."
"You guys have a way of disappearing bodies?" I asked. He nodded. "You comfortable with me owing you one?"
"We might be able to work something out," he said, crossing his arms. "How about you explain what happened to my kin?"
"She's got them all."
"What do you mean, got them?" he asked.
While I explained what we saw in the prison, his anger rose. His pupils dilated and his eye color changed from brown to yellow. I told him about the experiments, the way she was attempting to separate the wolf from the human, and a low growl shook his entire body.
"You going in to get your people out?" he asked, after I explained that she was doing the same to the witches, and Dr. O.
"I'm planning on getting all of them out," I said. "Witches, wolves and my boss."
"You call on us when you're ready," he said. "And all the better if it can happen on the full moon."
My hand was dwarfed by his enormous one when we shook on it. Energy flowed from his palm into mine, driving its way into my body. The strength of it bolstered my confidence. Werewolves storming the barricades with us? Leila wouldn't know what hit her.
19
"You made a deal with werewolves?"
Someone wasn't exactly thrilled about our girls-and-ghost night out.
"And somehow that's worse than killing me?" I asked Gramps, grinding my teeth together to keep from biting him. "You killed me. You. Killed. Me. That's so not okay."
"Had to, I told you," he said, running a hand through his silver hair.
"I still don't get it," Darcy chimed in.
"Let me make it simple for you," Gramps said, shaking his head. "The witch and the bloodsucker were at war in her body. Once she learned dark magic, and to control it, it was a death sentence. Rather than make her suffer through it, I did the humane thing..."
"And shoved a knife into my throat," I said with an involuntary shudder. "Between you and Leila, Christmas is gonna be a blast this year." Busy in the kitchen creating some sort of potion, he ignored me, so I continued. "You could have at least warned me. Or let me make up my own damn mind on how to deal with it."
He slammed his knife down on the butcher block. The herbs he was chopping flew up and spread all over the counter and the floor. "What would you have done? Die an unspeakable death? What was happening to you was akin to the worst kind of cancer, that kind that kills you slow and painful like. I put you out of your misery. Quick and easy."
"You call getting your throat cut and bleeding out quick and easy?"
He turned back to his herbs. "What's done is done."
"Well, he's right about that," Darcy said around a yawn. Now that she was keeping Matty's hours, it was getting close to her bedtime. "What's done is done. You're a vampire now."
"And a witch," Gramps added.
I crossed my arms and glared. "Like I wa
nt to throw another spell after all this?"
"You have no choice," he said. "You want to beat Leila, you have to work both your magic and your...you know. The other part."
The urge to kill that rooted in my belly as soon as I became a full-fledged member of the bloodsucker team spread through my body as my anger rose. I stared at my grandfather’s skin, watching the blood move in near-microscopic waves through it. "Vampire," I said, digging my nails into my arms to keep from vamping out. "You turned me, so you say it. Vampire. V-A-M-P-I-R-E."
Frankie stormed into the kitchen from the backdoor, dragging a skinny dude by the neck. Before he slammed the door, I caught sight of the red-yellow glow of dawn growing along the skyline.
"Found this skulking around the trash bins," he said, tossing him into the living room. The man slammed against the wall and then sunk to the floor, his expression of fear mixed with defiance.
"I know what you are," the stranger said. "I can see past whatever it is you're pretending to be. I know that your bar's not burned. I see it. I can see."
"How's that possible?" Darcy asked Gramps, her voice on edge. "This building was supposed to be spelled. Is it wearing off?"
"Pfftt, wearing off," Gramps said. "Of course it's not wearing off." He turned towards the skinny man, who cowered at Gramps' death stare. "Boy's a witch."
"I'm no witch!" The young man mustered the courage to respond, although he tacked on a hasty "sir" at the end.
Gramps left the kitchen to hover over the cowering man. He bent over and sniffed. "That's the stench of a nervous witch," he said, straightening up.
"I'm no witch," the skinny guy repeated, louder. "And I'm going to tell the authorities about you. All of you."
His brown eyes turned green for just less than a split second. If I was still human, that quick flicker of color wouldn't have registered. But my heightened senses caught him in his lie. Green eyes are witch eyes, and while the gene may be recessive in some witches, heightened emotions can change iris color, even if only for a brief moment. He was a witch and he was lying about it.
"Why'd she send you?" I asked, watching his Adam's apple wobble in his throat as he swallowed.