Whiskey, Vamps, and Thieves (Southern Vampire Detective #1)

by Selene Charles

  Beautiful she might be, but there were few more deadly creatures alive.

  Dean shook his head. “Just enjoy the show, harpy.”

  She chuckled. “I always do. And Dean?”

  Frowning, he waited.

  “I have a good feeling about that vampire who’s not really a vampire at all.”

  He tried to grin and pretend that her words meant nothing, but her words shook him. A betraying flash of bone gave him away.

  She laid a hand on his shoulder. Pandora rarely touched him. The sting of Death was pleasant to no one.

  “I think she’s a lot like I was.”

  “Annoying?” he supplied with a careless chuckle, deliberately choosing to misunderstand.

  But Pandora wouldn’t be swayed. Shaking her head, she squeezed his bicep before dropping her hand.

  “Resilient. Whatever game you’ve got in play, you’ve got my word that should you ever need me, I’ll be here.”

  Serious as he only ever could be with her, he dropped his defensive shields and allowed her to see into his troubled heart. It was only a flash, but she trembled and gasped.

  “Dear gods, Dean.”

  Putting the mask back in place, he nodded grimly. “I know. And believe me, harpy, when I call, you damn well better answer.”

  Chapter 17

  Scarlett

  Getting to the junkyard was an easy thing. I’d often come out here at night to watch Hellmouth burn in the distance. But I’d never crossed onto the junker’s land, somehow sensing a demarcation here. Just as other Veilers sensed the Alpha’s claim on Silver Creek, so too I felt that same sort of claim on the graveyard full of rusted and withered metal scraps and old hollowed-out cars, trucks, and haunted mobile homes of yesteryear.

  A strange chill zipped down my spine. Half of fear, half of something more. A human lived here, and yet I’d never known a human to be so comfortable within the veil. Even the Goths and Emos of my day, who played at being dark and had had no idea what really lay beyond the shadows.

  The place was creepy. And the moment I got out of the truck and took that first step, I had the weirdest urge to tuck tail and run. Which, yeah...not good. I was the law in those parts...sort of. I was not allowed to feel fear.

  But I did. Right now I did. And the further I went into the blue-black night creeping with shadows, the more that oppressive feeling shrouded me.

  Up ahead, I finally caught my first glimpse of life in the form of an old clapboard house with wood stained a bluish-gray from years of sun damage. It was like a turn-of-the-century farmhouse that was old and gone to ruin. Odd as it was, there was something rather comforting about the golden glow pouring out from behind the glass windows.

  The place had a small porch attached. With it was a lone rocking chair, which a man currently inhabited. I sniffed, smelling human.

  I glanced around, and my brows drew up into my hairline as I noticed the artwork littering the grounds.

  Manufactured pieces of refurbished metal had been twisted and painted over to resemble strange and ghoulish-looking shapes. Some reminded me of bats in flight, others of deformed creatures just waiting for their unsuspecting prey to walk past so they could snatch them up and dine.

  Super homey.

  The place looked like what the entrance of hell must look like. I’d never been a particularly religious person in life, but with the burning scent of sulfur coming off of Hellmouth, coupled with that weird old place, I could almost believe it.

  The man in the rocker looked up at me as he clapped an old corncob pipe against his palm. I knew Harlen only by reputation. Never having laid eyes on him myself, I was still not ready for the man idly rocking on the chair before me.

  He was a man in his late fifties to early sixties, with a head of shocking snow-white hair. It was so pristinely white that it rivaled that of freshly fallen snow. He was strong. Stout. A man used to working with his hands all his life. He had purple eyes.

  Not neon purple. Not lavender purple. More like indigo, a violet so deep it bordered on blue. He sort of made me think of Morgan Freeman. Kind of lanky. He even had the freckles along the bridge of his nose and cheeks.

  Though he was old, I sensed his strength. He was dressed in coveralls coated in grease and grime, and there wasn’t a thing dandified about him. He was a salt-of-the-earth kind of man.

  I frowned.

  He continued to look at me, as though waiting on me to say something.

  “You don’t have dogs.”

  Yeah, it wasn’t the brightest thing to say. But the man confused me on a visceral level. Something about him was off, off, off.

  He chuckled, and the sound of it was pleasing to my ear.

  “Don’t think I have much here worth stealing, do you, Scarlett Smith?”

  I blinked, surprised by the fact that even his voice was a dead ringer for Morgan and also that he knew who I was.

  “Did Mercer call ahead?”

  His lips twitched. “Mercer who?”

  It was my turn to lift a brow, knowing he was playing with me. Harlen rocked slowly back and forth.

  “So why are you here, Vampire?”

  Again I blinked. “You’re human.”

  “You make that sound like a crime,” he said with an amused snort.

  I was babbling. I knew it. He knew it. Taking a deep breath, I tried again. “Look, I was told by two people that for some reason, I needed to come find you. Now I’m not exactly sure why. I’ve been having a hell of a week, though, and if we could just hurry up and get this—”

  “They’re in a better place, you know.”

  My mouth clamped shut, and I took a deep, startled breath. “Who?” I asked, though I suddenly couldn’t feel my tongue because I had a feeling I knew.

  “Your parents.” He nodded as though to himself. “Saw them not long past. They’re happy.”

  If my eyes could have popped out of my skull, they probably would have. Swallowing hard, my stomach somersaulting almost violently, I shook my head, denying his words.

  He shrugged. “Just thought you should know.”

  “They were old,” I said, almost defensively. “I knew death would come, eventually. And how exactly did you see them?”

  It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that a human had spotted a ghost. Some humans were actually sensitive to them. But I had a hard time picturing this man on Ghost Hunters.

  His lips twitched again, and my nostrils flared, because none of what I’d just said was funny. He tapped his eyes. “With my peepers.”

  “You’re hilarious, old man.”

  “Forgive me,” he said, his purple eyes twinkling, “I have a rather macabre sense of humor sometimes.”

  “You see ghosts?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I see lots of things, Scarlett Smith.”

  “You’re human.”

  I knew I wasn’t exactly making the best first impression, but I couldn’t get a handle on the man. He was human. If it quacked like a duck and walked like a duck, it was a damn duck.

  He smelled of human. There was no power bubbling up from inside him. No tingle of Veiler brushing up against me.

  And yet.

  And yet...there was definitely something.

  “Back to this again, are we?” He sat his pipe down on his lap. “Let’s just agree to move on past that little incident. Tell me, my dear, how are you, really?”

  I cocked my head, feeling as if I’d somehow been placed inside an awful nightmare with no beginning or end, just an eternity of weird that made me feel breathless and cold.

  “Small talk?” I shook my head. “Why am I here?”

  He shrugged. “You tell me.”

  “Oh God.” I pinched my brow.

  Harlen laughed, a rich, robust sound that tickled my ears and caused my own lips to twitch despite myself.

  “Let’s leave him out of this, shall we?”

  “Who, God?” I blinked and then snorted with laughter because I was going crazy. Having some s
ort of existential breakdown with someone who wasn’t actually here. “He’s real?”

  “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio.”

  Shakespeare? Now I knew I wasn’t going crazy. I’d never been much a fan of ye olde bard and would never have quoted him.

  “My God, you’re beautiful,” he said deeply. But not as if he was hitting on me or wanting to sex me up the way Talix had. More as though he was astonished and awed by me, which was just plain weird and uncomfortable. I had no idea how to take that, so I turned it into a joke.

  “Are you hitting on me, old man, ’cause I swear, you so don’t want to go there.”

  I hadn’t said anything particularly funny, but he tossed his head back and laughed to the night. The trees swayed, and the sky almost seemed to glow, as though nature itself had responded in kind.

  But then I blinked, and the sky was just the sky, and the wind continued to blow steadily, and I was totally losing my mind.

  “Follow your inner leadings, Scarlett. That’s where you’ll learn to grow.”

  “What?”

  He cupped his ear. “Be still and listen.”

  His entire body froze as though he were putting into practice what he’d told me. And I shook my head.

  “You’re entirely bonkers.”

  I hadn’t expected him to catch the reference. But he surprised me yet again.

  A Cheshire grin curled across his features. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, dear Alice. All the best of us are.”

  ~*~

  I returned home an hour later and angrily tossed my keys into the fishbowl.

  “Bad day at the office?”

  I jumped, startled and pissed because there was no way I shouldn’t have sensed James in my home, and yet I hadn’t. My mind had been consumed with thoughts of how wasted that visit had been.

  I didn’t need to flick on the lights, but I did it just to make the wolf squirm.

  “How the hell did you get in my house?” I snapped, curling my fists. “I didn’t invite you in.”

  He sat up straighter, cocking his head as he studied me. James was no idiot. He knew something was wrong with me, but I wasn’t in a sharing mood.

  “You let me in twice, Scar. I did no think—”

  “No. That’s exactly right, you didn’t think. You just barreled right into here like you belonged, just like you always do.”

  “Scarlett.” He jumped to his feet, grabbed me in his large palms, and I knew I was acting psycho, I just didn’t know how to stop it.

  Something about Harlen had really freaked me out, but I wasn’t sure if I was freaked out because it scared me. The fact was, I’d liked him. Liked being there. As though it was right. Fate.

  God. I groaned.

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. But why are you here, James? I told you to leave the other night, and I really meant it.”

  He was still and very serious for a moment. “I want to start over with you, Scarlett. I never lied when I told you that. There are certain things I canna speak about, because I simply can’t. But I’ve had time to think, and I think it’s time you heard some truth for once.”

  He couldn’t have said anything else that would have made me happier. Cautiously hopeful, I narrowed my eyes, planting my hands on my hips. “The truth? Like the real, honest to God truth?”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die,” he said, crossing his heart as he said so. “But before we do that, have you eaten?”

  “It’s always about food with you wolves, isn’t it?” My lips stretched into a grin despite my near-constant irritation at him.

  His eyes gleamed. Moving with the preternatural grace of his kind, he lifted his wrist to his mouth and bit.

  Even without transforming, most shifters kept their canine teeth. I smelled the blossom of that autumn peppery blood immediately, and my mouth watered with terrible hunger.

  I didn’t make noise as I yanked on his wrist and pulled him into my mouth.

  My fangs slid deep into the punctures he’d made. Gods, it was an explosion of flavors in my mouth. Deep and robust and so, so addictive.

  He shuddered, but not with pain or fear, and lifted me by my ass into his arms. I had to wrap my legs around him to stay on, but my grip on my food didn’t relent an inch.

  A second later, we were on my couch. And I couldn’t help whimpering. Blood was like sex to a vampire. And good blood was like really, really good sex.

  It’d been so long since I’d really allowed myself to let loose. What I’d done with the fae at Diane’s had merely been an appetizer. I was more than ready for the main course.

  And Mercer had been stoking a fire, a flame in me, for days. An unquenchable thirst for more.

  “Och, lassie,” James rumbled as I felt something thick and long rub against the back of my thigh.

  “Shh,” I snapped, not wanting to hear his brogue, not wanting to hear him talk. Because if I closed my eyes, I could imagine that it was Merc. And it hurt that I had to do that. I loved Jamie.

  A part of me always had. But a part of me resented him too. Resented him for the lies, for the deception, for the constant evasion. I’d sent him away the other night, told him to go to hell, and now here we were again, falling back into our same toxic routine.

  As good as the blood was, I was angry and annoyed.

  “Dammit,” I hissed, tossing his hand away and crawling off his lap before wiping my mouth off with the back of my hand.

  His hair was rumpled, and his face dazed with lust and need but also with growing confusion. “What the hell just happened, Scar?”

  “You tell me!” I snapped. “Why are you here, James? And no more bullshit. I’m so sick of all of you giving me just enough to keep me dangling.”

  The words came out low but full of so much honest to God raw truth that his eyes widened, as if he were hearing me for the first time. I was drawing a line in the sand right here, right now. He had a choice to make, and this time there’d be no going back. Either he let me all in or it was over. Period.

  “Why were you at Diane’s the other night?”

  The only sound I heard was the metrical ticking of a wall clock.

  His lips clamped shut, and I shook my head. Without saying a word, I walked to the door.

  “No. Wait. Stop.” He got up and chased me, then twirled me around by the elbow. “You want to know, fine. Fine, Scarlett. I’m tired of fighting with you all the damn time. I told you I came back here for you, and I meant it. But you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

  I narrowed my eyes, feeling hot and cold all over. “Just say it.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “I wasn’t called back, Scarlett. I was sent.”

  I frowned. “But Mercer said—”

  His lips thinned, and his hands flexed open and shut. “That’s because that’s what Clarence needed him to believe. I...I can’t tell you why exactly—”

  My nostrils flared. “Can’t? Or won’t?” I snapped, ready to turn back for that door, but he latched onto my elbow again, hanging on so hard that I felt my bones grind.

  “Canna, Scarlett. I canna. You have to trust me here, I have to know that you believe in me. The Alphas aren’t happy, Scar.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. When Jamie used the word in that way, he wasn’t simply referring to an alpha the way Mercer was an alpha.

  The meant the five.

  There were five major Alphas in the world. The McCarricks were only one of five main branches. If the other four had come together without Clarence’s knowledge, it was potentially bad and scary and bad.

  “Why?” I asked.

  He grimaced. “They suspect an unbreakable oath’s been broken.”

  My skin grew cold, colder than normal, and I shook. “What...what oath?”

  Any vow whispered to the sacred objects made it, by default, an unbreakable oath. It was no small thing to break faith; it was worth killing over.

  “I canna
say. My orders were to come and learn and to blend in as best I could.”

  I snarled. “So you didn’t come here for me at all, you lying bastard.”

  When I tried to make an escape, he grabbed my other arm, shaking me gently.

  “You blind little vampire. Of course I did. I volunteered. I don’t know everything that’s going on, Scarlett, but Clarence and Mercer are on their short list.”

  My blood ran cold. All that hot blood that’d gotten my rock to beating again turned painfully in my stomach.

  “Mercer?” I clutched at my gut. “Why him?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.”

  Then a truly terrible thought gripped me and I looked up at him. “Are you here to hurt him?”

  He shut his mouth. A thick muscle in his cheek twitched, and I exploded, shoving him violently against the wall.

  “Don’t you dare. Don’t you think it. You hear me? I’ll kill you. I’ll kill anything that comes against him.”

  My nerves were raw and strung out. All I kept hearing was Mercer telling me how they’d shut him out. Was it because of this? Did the Wolf Pack know something?

  “Damn it, Vampire, to be so tiny and yet so mighty...” James rubbed his chest as if I’d actually hurt him, and maybe I had. “I’m no to come against them. Not now.”

  “I don’t give a damn what you do to Clarence,” I snapped, leaving the rest of the words unspoken. I was so angry I could spit. “You’ve been using me, getting in close to get close to him.”

  It made a terrible sort of sense. I was closest to Mercer; everybody knew that. We’d never kept it a secret. If he’d broken oath, then naturally I would be the one to know it.

  Mercer had done a lot of things against his pack, but as far as I knew, he’d never broken an oath. My blood chilled, wondering if I’d be so quick to blindly defend him if he’d broken an oath.

  I blinked, clutching my hands to my chest. Yes, I would. Even against the Oathbreaker himself, I’d do anything to protect Mercer.

  James wet his lips, and I dropped my head into my hands.

  “Deny it, Jamie. Please tell me you wouldn’t stoop so low.”

  His breathing grew harsh. “I’m here, Scar. I’m here, and I’m being as honest with you as I dare. I’m throwing myself on your mercy, telling you things that would get me killed if anyone learned it. But you have to tell me now, has Mercer done something he shouldn’t have?”