The Undead Detective Bites: Book 1

by Jennifer Hilt

  “So you need more subjects,” Elsbeth said.

  “Theoretically yes but this was an aberration. Triana was purposefully bringing Glytr in for revenge. The community here shuns outsiders to stay safe. The casino may have the occasional user but like I said, they will be gone before it becomes a problem here. There’s no purpose to studying it.”

  “I disagree.” Elsbeth said. “You spend your time and energy studying Glytr in humans. Why should your own kind get less attention?”

  “Because it’s not a problem with my own kind. Three users does not an epidemic make.”

  “But if there were an epidemic, we should have an antidote.”

  “There’s no antidote to addiction.”

  “It does make you wonder though,” Idris said. “Humans take Glytr to feel powerful but why do paranormals take Glytr?”

  I’d been wondering the same thing. I didn’t want to share that line of thinking with Elsbeth.

  “We’d need information on that too. Right now we have nothing on the behavioral side,” I conceded.

  “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Silverthorne. And you, Idris. I was mistaken to think you two were the ones to do something about this.”

  “I’m disappointed. I’m betting Idris feels the same way. This kind of thing could be a real career maker.” I pulled the sheet over Junior. We’d sampled and measured everything but his hair. Too bad. He had a great head of hair.

  “You’ll be leaving soon, I trust?” Elsbeth asked. She was petulant now but that was her problem. She could seek her fortune some other way, not that I thought she was hurting for riches.

  “Tomorrow, my human needs some rest.”

  “They are such fragile things.” Elsbeth turned to Idris. “We should go. We could drive some before sunrise.”

  And then they were gone.

  I took a deep breath and exhaled.

  Thank the Goddess.

  All alone in the morgue, just how I liked it.

  There’d been no time to process any of the previous night’s events.

  Murder. Suicide. Glytr. Fang.

  Fang.

  It was time to leave. My reason for being here was done.

  No coming back for any reason.

  Probably he and Wendy would settle down sooner than I wanted to admit.

  Fang was a man made for loving. Why should he be alone because I chose a solitary life?

  I cleaned up the morgue after our autopsies. A job I would be loath to do in LA and never expected to do but tonight I appreciated the closure.

  Ben would send the specimens on their way tomorrow. Life would return to normal for Nowhere. They might have an uptick in crime with the new casino, but I seriously doubted it would be anything significant.

  I would go back to LA, focusing on getting my tenure. Maybe plan a trip to Hawaii for Ben, myself and Mr. Figgles to ring in the New Year.

  It’d be a surprise. I didn’t have any interest in the actual details of the trip. I’d leave that to Ben. I would pour all my energies into work, resetting my life as it was before returning to Nowhere.

  I was busy writing up some paperwork to accompany the slides at my desk when I noticed the overhead lights flickering. I ignored them. I wanted to finish what I’d started. Besides, this place was so outdated, I couldn’t even imagine all the building code violations.

  Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

  What the fuck? This was doing nothing for my Zen aspirations.

  I snarled, pushing back from my desk.

  Ben waved frantically outside the morgue through the small window in the door.

  Now what? He was supposed to be asleep.

  I left my office, passed through the open morgue room and to the outer door. “I’m still working,” I greeted him.

  “The motel is on fire! A passerby called it in to the sheriff’s office while we were there. Fang already left. We need to take your car.”

  “Where’s Mr. Figgles?”

  “He’s still in the sheriff’s office. But the witches!”

  Oh fuck. The witches.

  They were due to check in today. And they must have, which I blissfully chose to ignore.

  I hurried back to grab my car keys, casting a last look back at the unfinished work.

  So much for closure.

  17

  The night was clear. I smelled the smoke before I saw it. The acrid scent filled my nose, choking out the sweet clean scent of the Ponderosa pines. Black billowing clouds blotted out the stars and moon. Hell had come to Nowhere.

  There was no fire department in this community mainly because everyone was spread far apart. The shifter packs acted like an emergency services for each other. Tough luck if you didn’t belong to a pack.

  I pulled off the side of the road within a quarter mile of the fire.

  “Get closer!” Ben exclaimed.

  “Not with the way the wind is blowing. We go on foot. If it’s too bad we’ll have to run back for the car.” I could outrun a fire. My human could not.

  Ben stared at me. “We can’t just let it burn.”

  “There’s no volunteer fire department here. “

  “Fuck this.” He leapt out of the car before slamming the door shut.

  I sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy. Just when I thought things were looking up.

  This was all the fault of those damned witches. One of them must’ve accidentally started a fire. I knew they’d be trouble. Fang and Ben would be devastated by the damage. I was sorry we’d not already left town. Hopefully Griz maintained his insurance, but I wouldn’t place any bets on it.

  The closer I got, the more my fears were realized. The fire burned hot. Thick smoke blew sparks and cinders across the mostly bare landscape. The only good news was with snow on the ground, it likely wouldn’t spread beyond the motel grounds.

  I hoped the crazy ass witches hadn’t bespelled whatever was burning. I realized how stupid this was. Of course it was enchanted.

  We were talking about witches.

  Ben ran ahead but I moved more cautiously. Some humans have aversions to snakes or spiders.

  There wasn’t a living thing I was afraid of but fire was its own beast.

  I climbed the small hill to the burning motel, tucking my chin down in my turtleneck to stifle the smell.

  Flames licked the roofline of the casitas. Windows exploded in the heat. Behind me, the office set apart from the casitas was unscathed, until the wind changed direction.

  The witches clumped in the driveway. I could smell the incense from here. They were a motley crew of sizes and shapes wearing traditional black robes.

  I scanned the group for Fang’s tall form, checking twice. His hat usually gave him away.

  I inhaled deeply, trying to catch scent of him.

  Only ugly black smoke coated my nose.

  No Fang.

  Fuck.

  I sped up.

  Ben and another witch were at the front of the crowd bent over a prostrate elderly woman who was a crone if I ever saw one.

  “Where’s Fang?” I grabbed Ben by the arm, spinning him toward me.

  “He’s in there, looking for Wendy.” He gestured toward the inferno behind me.

  The blaze behind me was hot, I was pretty sure my hair would singe from here.

  “Are you sure Wendy is in there?”

  “One of their elders was stuck inside. Wendy went in for her. The elder flew out in her raven form but no Wendy. Fang ran in when he found out she was still inside.” Ben’s eyes were red. Tears rolled down his cheeks from the smoke.

  I put my hand on his shoulder. I needed to steady myself. The contact with him helped calm me.

  Fang was roasting alive.

  For a witch.

  I wanted to scream. Vampires are not screamers—it’s not necessary when ripping someone apart is an option.

  Witches were big on noise. Second to the roar of fires and exploding glass, was the moaning and crying.

  Anger coursed t
hrough me.

  Do something. Don’t stand around and cry about it.

  “I won’t have it.” I kicked a smoldering pile of charred rubble.

  “What?” Ben asked, half turning from the injured old woman.

  Another window blew out, sending glass raining down on us. With that came another thick billow of smoke that smelled rancid. Whatever the fuck these witches were up to, I was pretty sure they’d violated Ben’s motel guest rules.

  Scents of magic swirled in the smoky air.

  I grabbed the nearest witch. She was carrying a pail of water and making a poor job of it. Most of it splashed on the ground. Such a shame they couldn’t control inanimate things. That would make putting out this fire a snap.

  “What’s your name?” I jerked her closer to me.

  “Who are you?” Her eyes widened. She was Ben’s age. And meeting her first vamp. Her mouth dropped open, revealing her pierced tongue.

  I would never understand young humans.

  “Your name.” I gave her a little shake. With all the chaos around us, no one noticed a vampire shaking down an apprentice.

  “Gretel.”

  “That’s unfortunate.” With that name, life as a witch had to be challenging.

  “Tell me about it,” she said bitterly. Her round face was streaked with soot along with her UNLV baggy sweatshirt and jeans. In vampire terms she was pleasingly plump.

  “Call Fang and Wendy out, using your witch language,” I ordered. “And unlike your namesake, try not to kill them.”

  The witch wore thick glasses. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. Half her head was shaved with tattoos on her scalp.

  “I’m only a novice,” she stammered when I increased my fingers pressure on her arm.

  “Do it now.” I didn’t have time to quiz every witch in this place and rate their skill. What did I look like, Yelp? Fang could be long dead by then.

  “Fang! Wendy!” Gretel called.

  I couldn’t make out the rest of her speech.

  The wind carried her voice away in the smoke.

  “Again. And this time with feeling,” I said, adding a growl.

  “Fang! Wendy!” Gretel glanced at me. I gave her an encouraging shove. “Come out!”

  Nothing but smoke and stink roared forth from the casita.

  Stupid heroic Fang.

  Out of the smoke inside, I heard a growl so fierce the hair on the back of my neck prickled. Gretel turned to me, her eyes wide.

  “Look after this human.” I said, tucking my long hair down inside the back of my turtleneck. “As if your life depends on it, because it does.”

  Fang was in there, probably burning alive.

  I did not want to live in a world without Fang.

  I tucked my head down, rushing in before I could overthink it.

  Behind me, the witches moaned and wailed. They are big on drama but less helpful in an actual emergency. Most paranormals don’t like uncontrolled fire for a reason. History is full of examples of our kind being burned alive. Sure, sometimes we’d eaten the village virgins but most of the time it was because humans feared us for being different.

  It’s more difficult to run into a burning building than you’d think. Survival instinct takes over. Soon you’re fighting your brain and body to push forward, not run back to safety.

  But fuck safety. Fang was in there.

  “Fang, hold on!” I shouted. I held my forearm before my face, trying to shield more from the smoke than fire.

  It was useless. It was like being thrown in an inferno. I kicked out with my left leg, trying to make sure I didn’t walk into a door or window. Glass crunched under my feet. Through the boot soles I could feel the ground was hot. Flames licked everything. Any substance with a drop of moisture left sizzled.

  I’d stepped over the blown-out doorframe. I could tell that much. I crouched, going forward in a crab walk.

  There.

  That was better. Down here it was slightly less smoky.

  Beside me, the beds burned.

  I caught a whiff of Fang’s woodsy scent in the swirling air.

  And there was a witch in here for sure. The whole place stank of incense.

  My leather jacket sleeve caught fire.

  I slapped my burning right arm on the floor, grinding out the flames. I killed the fire but my jacket provided no protection now. Plus my forearm was covered in glass.

  Picking those pieces out was the least of my problems.

  “Fang! Fang!” I croaked. My eyes watered. Not a good sign with a vamp. We don’t have much moisture to spare.

  Soft whining straight ahead.

  I reached out, touching the bathroom door.

  Fang and the witch were trapped in a bathroom with shoebox-size windows. None of us were escaping that way.

  Using my non-injured hand, I pulled my sweater sleeve down to cover the door handle.

  Hot. Hot. Hot.

  I twisted it anyway, nudging the door. It opened a few inches and then stopped.

  The fire’s heat warped the doorframe.

  “Stand back. The door is stuck. I’ve gotta push it open,” I said. I coughed so much I doubted my voice was heard.

  I was worried how much oxygen was left for them in the bathroom.

  Standing up, I was wracked in more coughing spasms. Must get lower.

  I crouched again, putting my left shoulder into pushing the door open.

  The door cracked and splintered under me.

  Besides sunlight and fire, vampires do not like shards of wood.

  Oh irony if I accidentally staked myself. If I saved Fang it would be worth it but if this was all for a witch, I was going to be seriously pissed.

  “Fuck!”

  Fang’s wolf barked in alarm.

  “I’m coming.” I coughed before crawling forward to pick my way through the door. The smoke rushed out of the bathroom greedily gulping up more air. I wasn’t yet sure if Fang and I could get back out alive.

  I squinted, gingerly feeling around on the ground. A wolf’s rough tongue licked my hand.

  Fang, in his wolf form, crouched over a witch lying unconscious on the floor. He raised on his haunches slightly so I could see Wendy.

  Shifters can’t change form without moving, and Fang was so big he barely fit in here let alone being able to move around.

  I had to carry Wendy out of here. That was going to hurt.

  “Go on, Fang. We’ll be right behind you.”

  A wolf takes up a lot of space in a motel bathroom. Add in a witch and vampire and it becomes cramped.

  “Go on, I don’t have enough room to grab her.”

  Fang whined but reluctantly and rather elegantly leapt over my crouched form. I grabbed the witch, throwing her over my good shoulder, which wasn’t feeling great. She wasn’t a featherweight and my skin was feeling crispy.

  Squatting, I carried the witch out. Fang’s tail swished before me. This had the dual effect of slightly stirring the air before me and the feathery brush of his tail provided guidance going forward.

  The witch was heavy but the smoke was making it hard to breathe. The colder wind outside mingled with the fire working through the casita. Behind us, the fire engulfed the bathroom. The Spanish tile cracked and popped.

  I collapsed outside. The cold air smacked me in the face. Taking a fresh breath of air was impossible when all I could do was cough.

  “Silverthorne!” Ben rushed to meet me with Gretel when we exited the motel. We were barely on the gravel when they reached us, pulling us farther away from the inferno behind us.

  I relinquished Wendy. I had no idea if she were dead or alive. Honestly I didn’t really care.

  It was Fang that mattered. He lived.

  Ben looped my less burned arm around his shoulder, steering me to safety. The wind had changed direction as I predicted but it had not claimed the office.

  I squinted. The witches made themselves useful, heaping snow onto the fire both by magic and a bucket briga
de.

  There was a triage unit over by the motel office. Ben carefully lowered me into a borrowed chair from the front office.

  Fang lay his massive head in my lap. He stared up at me with his gray eyes. I loved the color of his eyes. They reminded me of a mountain lake we’d visited long ago. My tears fell on his pelt, and I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. The awkward embarrassment of expressing so much emotion left me feeling shaky and exhausted.

  I stroked Fang’s head, trying to pack my feelings back away into something more tidy.

  I failed.

  Tears rolled down my cheeks faster than I could wipe them away. I combed my fingers through Fang’s fur. He was no longer the silver wolf I’d seen on the road when I first came into town. Now his fur was sooty black.

  He lay down next to me. His paws bled from the glass, nails and wood splinters. His massive size meant I could still stroke his fur without moving.

  Dear Fang. So loyal and true.

  “You’re in shock. You need to keep warm.”

  Ben tucked a blanket around my shoulders. He handed me a mug of water, and I took a sip. The coolness of the water soothed my aching throat, but my nose stung with every breath.

  I set my mug down for Fang. With his long tongue, he lapped at the water, making quick work of it.

  Ben returned with another blanket for me plus a witch who could’ve doubled for an Amazon. This female was over six feet tall. She dressed in long black robes which somehow were still immaculate.

  “Let this witch examine you, Silverthorne. Then you can feed. I’m ready when you are.”

  I felt a spurt of pride at my spunky little human. The only non-paranormal in the bunch and he was barking out orders like he owned the place. Or at least like the manager.

  And him telling me I needed to feed was very sweet.

  “Wendy?” My throat was abraded with soot.

  “She survived,” the Amazon witch said. Her dark skin was a deep brown. Her eyes snapped with amber fire. A witch who dealt in demonic possession, I’d not met one in a hundred years. “I’m Serena. I’m charged with healing. May I examine you?”

  I picked ash and glass from the topside of Fang’s coat. It doesn’t matter whether paranormal or human, physicians don’t like needing care for themselves.