“Okay,” I said, nodding and keeping a straight face. “How is he going to help?”
Kelly shrugged. “Not sure. But he always does.”
I looked down at the cat and tried not to wrinkle my nose in disgust. He was truly ugly, with an underbite and a tear in his ear. His fur had even grown in at different lengths, making him look scragglier than he would otherwise.
“Kelly, I’m trying to respect your opinion, but I hardly think this blight on the feline evolutionary strand is going to help us.”
“Well, he certainly won’t help if you keep offending him. Why does this amazing animal hate you? Because you’re acting like an arse every time you interact with him. Call him by his proper name and show him some respect, and he’ll help.”
I sighed. “Okay, Your...Lordship King Bumplesnuggles—”
“King Snugglebumpkins,” Kelly corrected.
“Your Lordship King Snugglebumpkins,” I said, looking from the cat to her to make sure I’d gotten it right.
Kelly nodded, and the freaking cat inclined his head toward me.
“Can you please help us?” I asked.
The cat darted off. I looked at Kelly, ready to complain that her plan hadn’t worked, when the cat meowed at us and paused at the end of the building, as if waiting for us to follow. Kelly raised a single dark eyebrow. “He’s a veritable Lassie, but far superior.”
Shrugging, I ran after the cat.
His Lordship dodged into the alley behind Marla’s shop. Right back to where I’d started. But instead of going to the parlor’s back door, the cat went to another step beneath an overhang, where a crate sat nestled underneath some cardboard. A ratty piece of fabric formed a little nest inside.
“I wonder why he would sleep here when he’s usually in Marla’s place,” I said.
“Because he doesn’t sleep here,” Kelly said. “It’s his stash.”
Sure enough, the cat grabbed the corner of the fabric with one of the misshapen fangs of his underbite and dragged it away, revealing a hoard of junk.
An iridescent black rectangle caught my eye. “My credit card!” I said.
At this point, the cat could have it, because I’d already called to report it missing. But still. I knew the ugly fucker had stolen it.
The cat went into the crate and batted out something small and metallic.
This was turning into a monumental waste of time. Marla was out there somewhere, probably scared or hurt, and this cat wanted to play with its junk pile?
“I hate to say you’re right,” Kelly said, sounding depressed as the cat’s “treasure” clanked a few feet away and the cat quickly chased it, “but you might’ve been right about His Lordship this time—”
“Wait,” I said.
His Lordship smacked the metallic piece of junk again, and it skidded to the toe of my shoe. I bent down and picked it up.
“It’s a bottle opener,” I said, then turned it over and held it out to Kelly to examine.
“For The Watering Hole,” she said. Bending at the waist, she looked His Lordship in the eye. “Is this a clue?”
The cat gave her a look of pure disdain, as if to say “duh.” Then he rolled to his side, flung one of his hind legs in the air, and began licking his nuts.
“Ugh,” Kelly said.
“Come on,” I said, already turning and running toward the end of the alley.
“Wait, where are you going?” Kelly asked.
“To rescue my mate. Are you coming or not?”
“We can’t just barge in there.” She tugged on my arm. “We need a plan.”
“My plan is to find her. I’m going to save her, Kelly. I have to. You don’t understand. I can’t wait for anything else.”
Kelly’s face softened and she nodded. “Okay. We’ll do it your way and wing it.”
I pulled out my phone and pulled up Declan’s number as we ran. This time, he answered.
“What’s up, Grayson?”
“Bad things. You didn’t get my message?”
“No, just got in from dinner with Daphne.”
“Well, get ready to leave again,” I said. “We’re going to need some help.”
17
Marla
My head felt full of bouncing rocks. I cringed at the sensation and opened my eyes, trying not to move more than I had to. My vision was blurry. No, it was just dark and there was nothing to see. An unfamiliar stone wall loomed in front of me. Where was I?
A light flicked on.
It didn’t come from a bulb on the ceiling, but from a tiny lantern on the floor.
My body was stiff and sore. I tried to move, but found myself bound to a slab of wood. I wiggled my shoulders to test my restraints. The wire tightened, and sharp barbs cut into my flesh.
I cringed at the tiny stabs of pain. Best not to try that again.
I tried to think. I’d been in my tattoo parlor when something smacked me in the head. Given the damp air and dirt floor, it seemed I was now in an old basement.
Well, this felt familiar. At least I could tell, from the lack of art supplies, that this wasn’t the Collector’s basement.
The light flickered. It was inching across the dirt floor by a small broken plastic leg. Apparently it just had the one, giving it kind of a sad limp.
Animated objects meant Andy was nearby.
The lamp stopped in front of me and slowly turned its clear plastic top, so a huge crack faced me.
The leg twitched, almost like a little arm waving hello.
Slowly, so I didn’t agitate my head, I craned my neck to get a better look at the rest of the room. A stack of metal chairs leaned against the corner. Red vinyl covered the seats. This was the same style as the ones in The Watering Hole. I had to be in the basement below the bar. Would someone hear me if I screamed? The idea didn’t stay with me for long, because if anyone else came around to help me, Andy would probably kill them.
A little farther to the right was a door with one of the chairs stretched tall and standing guard. It held its front legs up and to the sides like it had its hands on its square hips. With the gash through the vinyl, it looked like it was a sad stick diva who’d been on the wrong end of a knife fight.
“Cry for me.” A dark, wet voice came from way closer than I thought possible.
“Hi, Andy,” I said, ignoring the shiver that carried up my spine.
“Your fear’s delicious.”
“I’m not afraid.” It might have been a half-truth. In fact, I wasn’t completely confident of my chances of escape at the moment.
“You should be.”
The lantern on the floor brandished a knife and jostled itself closer. It was even slower moving than before now that its one leg had a knife in it.
“I should be afraid of your junkyard version of Beauty and the Beast?” I snorted. “To go with the sad little Lumiere, are you going to throw in some dancing plates? Maybe a whistling tea pot?”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Andy appeared beside me. Time had not been kind to him. His black make-up had run, making him look like a sad excuse for a sorority girl on a bender. He pulled handfuls of his scraggly black hair.
“With a power like yours, you could take over the world,” I said, sadistically enjoying getting under his skin. “Instead you’re here, in a dank basement acting as the attack dog for a monster.”
“Shut your stupid face!”
He hit me with an open hand, right across the cheek. I didn’t need to breathe, but air came out of me in a whoosh of surprise. I hadn’t expected that. Given the wild look in Andy’s sunken eyes and the flush of gray that carried up his pale neck, I should have. My cheek stung, but I clenched my teeth and did my best not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt me.
I met his crazed gaze with steel resolve. “Which part offends you more—the fact that you’re still under the Collector’s sick influence, or the fact that your power is wasted by helping a slimy worm like him?”
This time Andy didn’
t hit me. This time, he backed away, a wicked grin on his lips.
Lumiere bounded forward. Knife swishing wildly, the busted lamp sliced up my shoe.
I couldn’t help but cringe.
“Neither,” Andy said.
I flicked my ankle, knocking the knife from the lamp’s grasp. Then I put my weight down on top of the blade, so it couldn’t pick it back up.
“What bothers me,” Andy said, “is you.”
“No reason to be jealous,” I told him through gritted teeth. “Just don’t go back. Walk away and you can be free too.”
“Jealous?” He spat the word, and waved his arms. “You think I’m jealous that you threw away the life our sire gifted us? I pity you. You had it all. You were his fucking favorite!”
So he was jealous, just not of my freedom. He was jealous that our demented sire picked me as his favorite. I said, “He made me a trophy to trot around on a leash.”
“It was supposed to be me! It was always me, until you came around.”
“Great,” I said. “You can have him.”
“He doesn’t want me!” Andy paced, running his hands through his hair. “He won’t until you’re gone. Gone forever.”
“Wait,” I told Andy. “You don’t have to—”
“I’ll collect the other two, and return them to our sire. But first...there was an accident.”
Lumiere struggled to wiggle the knife hilt from under my shoe. I kicked the little lamp bastard with my good foot.
The lamp shook itself off and tried to stand back up.
Staring me right in the eye, Andy stomped on Lumiere.
The glass shattered and the wood on the floor caught fire. Andy reached down and touched a cloth napkin to the flames, then blew it like a kiss toward me.
The flaming napkin flew through the air like a bird on the breeze and brushed against the wooden table I was strapped to. The spark ignited. Fire. I pulled to fight against my bindings, but the barbs dug into my flesh. All I had to do was free one hand, just one, and I’d be able to get out of this. But I had to hurry.
Andy crossed his arms with a smug grin and backed toward the door.
“You’ll burn the whole building down,” I told him.
“And? You think I care?” He laughed.
The door cracked open. The chair turned its headrest like it was looking to see who was there.
A ball of shaggy black fur dove through the air and landed on Andy’s head. His Lordship to the rescue!
Andy screamed as the giant cat bit and scratched him.
It would have been a hell of a lot more satisfying if I wasn’t a ball of terror with my hair on fire.
18
Grayson
As soon as we reached The Watering Hole, I smelled the smoke. Kelly must have, too, because she went quiet and focused.
“Are you certain you don’t want a plan for this?” Kelly asked.
“No more plans,” I said. “We go in there and get her, to hell with anyone or anything that gets in our way.”
“Let’s get to it, then.”
Kelly and I could work together, after all. At some point during our race to get here, we’d lost His Lordship. I wondered if he had continued his butt-licking somewhere else, or if he was more invested in Marla’s fate and working behind the scenes. Hard to say with that cat.
The Watering Hole wasn’t crowded, but there were a few people drinking and eating dinner. They hadn’t smelled the smoke, yet. What worried me was I couldn’t pick up Marla’s scent.
I hurried to the bartender. “Where’s your back room?”
She pointed over her shoulder, and I leaped over the bar.
“Hey!” she called.
“Don’t worry, luv,” Kelly said to the bartender, her voice getting quieter as I ran to the back. “We’re on a rescue mission.”
The back room was full of cardboard boxes, silver kegs, and shelves full of three-ring binders. It had many things in it, but it did not have Marla.
“Where else could she be?” I called.
“Um, basement?” the woman at the bar said, pointing toward the back of the building.
Kelly was already moving.
“Get everyone out,” I said to the bartender, “and call the fire department.”
“Fire department?” she asked.
“I smell smoke, and I heard reports there would be trouble here tonight.”
She paled. “Oh—okay.”
As I hurried after Kelly, I spotted a fire alarm on the wall and pulled that, too, for good measure. It blared, hurting my ears, but people immediately got up and began exiting the building.
Kelly darted through a door at the back and I followed her into a dark hallway.
“Anaphora,” she muttered. “Anaconda.”
“Are you still on about the A word?” I asked.
“It’s driving me crazy!”
“You have a phone,” I said, “look it up!”
She growled over her shoulder as we raced down the hall. “I can’t look up a word I don’t know. Also, we’re sort of in the middle of a rescue, here! Alabama. Amtrak.”
I resisted the urge to yell in frustration and focused on finding my mate. This building was made in a similar way to Marla’s, all brick and old beams, with apartments and office spaces upstairs. Kelly pointed to a door at the end that had a broken handle.
“In there,” she said.
Sure enough, the scent of smoke was stronger the closer we got to the end of the hall.
A high-pitched wailing reached my ears, loud even with the fire alarm blaring in the background.
“What is that?” I asked.
Kelly laughed. “Sounds to me like Andy’s getting his animator ass handed to him.”
I kicked open the door and smoke pooled around us. Kelly charged forward, lucky because she didn’t need to breathe. I covered my nose and mouth with my sleeve and hurried after her.
The sight that greeted me stole my breath even more than the smoke could. Marla was tied to an upended wooden table, and her hair was on fire. As Kelly had predicted, Andy was the source of the screaming, and a giant ball of black fur covered his face, hissing and scratching.
His Lordship had come to Marla’s rescue.
Before I could move toward Marla, a coil of electrical cord swung from the wall and wrapped itself around my neck. I reached up to free myself, but another cord swung around my arms and held them down.
“Kelly!” I shouted.
She was fighting something else—a small army of folding metal chairs that surrounded her. Every time she kicked at one, another would come up behind her and try to knock her over.
Marla met my gaze. Her eyes were wide and frightened. Even though Andy was currently fighting His Lordship, the rest of us were still being defeated by his animated agents.
“I love you,” Marla mouthed.
This wasn’t over yet.
“I love you too,” I said, before reaching deep inside me and calling forth my wolf.
The cords couldn’t hold me, not as I changed form and slipped through their grasp. I landed on the basement floor on all fours, then rushed to my mate. I’d hoped to chew or tear through whatever ropes bound her, but I stopped short when I saw she was restrained with barbed wire. It pricked her beautiful skin, leaving welts and punctures. Andy was a sick asshole, and as soon as Marla was free, I would tear him apart.
But first I had to free her.
Her hair was still burning. I had no water, nothing to use to douse it. No time to shift again—it would take too long.
Frantically looking around, I spied a rusted toolbox on the floor. I rushed over to it and knocked it over with my nose. There. A set of wire cutters. They looked to be a better size for jewelry making than for cutting fencing, but I didn’t have time to find anything better. Picking them up with my mouth, I carried them back to Marla. I made sure she saw them, and then placed them in her hand.
“Good thinking,” she said, twisting her arm around. It made her
bleed more, but she worked through the pain.
“Grayson, look out!” she said.
One of the metal folding chairs slammed into my side, knocking me down. I scrambled to my feet and faced it. Behind me, Kelly was yelling—whether with pain or triumph, I couldn’t tell. The chair faced me. I could beat a chair. I had beaten several at the tattoo parlor, and those had held vibrating needles.
I didn’t need to beat the chair, though. I needed to beat Andy.
With a growl, I leaped past the chair and to the stinky vampire currently wearing His Lordship as a growling, spitting hat. Andy was still howling, and I jumped on him, biting his leg until he fell to the ground.
The flames were picking up, igniting some nearby boxes.
“I’m free!” Marla called, and ran to my side. She shouted, “Off, King Snugglebumpkins!” and the cat jumped off of Andy’s head.
Marla gave a fierce kick to Andy’s side and he flew into the flaming boxes. Apparently he’d never learned the stop, drop, and roll rules, because he instead flailed and got himself more tangled in the boxes.
Something flew out of one of the boxes and danced toward me.
No way.
It was one of the plush coffee beans, and it was on fire.
Marla stomped on it and the flaming turd went out.
But Andy didn’t. He cried and hissed and popped, tangling himself in a fiery mess of cardboard. He flopped like a fish out of water, with gasoline for skin. The stink of him changed from hot, dead garbage to burnt fish.
With a final whimper, Andy went still and quiet. Dead.
The fire continued to rage on the charred corpse. The four of us watched, me for signs of undead life, my companions likely in relief. The flames danced in Kelly and Marla’s eyes, while His Lordship licked his claws clean as if this was just another day for a monster cat.
It was over.
“Good riddance,” Marla said, looking at the pile of dead vampire.
Fire engine sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer, but I spotted a fire extinguisher on the nearest wall. After shifting back to my human form, I grabbed it and squirted the foam over the flaming boxes and the table Marla had been tied to.
Billionaires and Bodybags: Forbidden Fangs, Book 1 Page 13