“Sonfabitch,” Garrett muttered, shaking his head. “I just left the Cherry woman’s place. I was about to ask her some questions about her boss when I got the call.” He took out his phone and began snapping shots of the body. “Cause of death?”
Denopoulos shone a penlight and frowned. “Bite marks on her neck. Big surprise. From the width and placement, I’d say another vampire killing. From the rate of decomposition, it looks like she’s been dead for more than twenty-four hours.”
“Based on the position of the body and the dirt all over her clothing, I’d say she was killed somewhere else and dragged here. Any witnesses?” Garrett turned his head to glance at the people walking through the park going about their day, and his jaw clenched. This hit too close to home.
“Not so far,” Teague muttered, pulling out a glass slide. “We could get lucky and find a passerby.”
“It could be a copycat murder or one of Lawrence’s thugs.” Garrett’s gaze roamed over the vic’s clothing. She was dressed in a short skirt and a leather jacket. One high heel still dangled from her foot. “It looks like she was clubbing. The killer could’ve met her at a bar.” He moved the light around to check for any clues on the body. He pushed his gloved hand inside her jacket pocket and removed a matchbook with the word Birch emblazoned across the front. He knew the nightclub on River Street well. “One of us needs to get over there and talk to the staff.”
The only thing he could think about was making sure Gillian was safe. Anger and duty warred inside of him, forcing him to his feet. Garrett needed to get the hell out of there and see her in the flesh. “Keep me in the loop. I’m sorry, but I need to go.” He removed his mask, booties, and gloves and threw them in a nearby trash can. God help him, there was only one place he wanted to be. I need to warn Gillian.
Between the steady flow of customers in the store and handling their online orders, the day should’ve flown by, but every few minutes Gillian nervously glanced at her phone, hoping to get some kind of update on Brooke. The moment someone would walk through the door, her heart would bang in her chest. And the churning in her gut never seemed to go away, no matter how many crystals she touched. She felt like she might be sick at any moment. By the time she managed to break free from a group of witches discussing the merits of essential oil in spells, she was a walking bundle of nervous energy. She grabbed her laptop and a few sets of tarot decks on her way to the storeroom. It was time for her podcast.
After she shut the door, she set her laptop on a card table, booted it up, and spread out her tarot decks. She grabbed three crystals from a shelf and set them around the cards. Then, she closed her eyes and tried to wipe the dark images from her mind. She took several deep breaths to calm her nerves and find her center. Scrolling through her email, she pulled up her questions for the podcast and pressed record on her computer. She hoped whatever she needed might unfold in the cards.
“Welcome to Eat, Tarot, Love. I’m psychic Gillian, and um, I’m here to, to chat on all things vegan, and I give advice on love and relationships.” Her voice sounded shaky and hollow. She shook her head, trying to clear the agonizing fear and worry from her mind. But it was no use. She couldn’t stay focused on anything for long. “Okay, let’s get started. This email is from Nancy. I’m going to read it out loud.
“I’ve been doing online dating for a while now, but after a certain point, the guys I meet won’t commit. It’s almost like they’re looking around the corner for the next best thing. I guess everyone figures they can just swipe right. What can I do to attract the kind of person who wants a real relationship?
“Thanks for your question, Nancy.” When it came time to give her advice, her mind blanked. All she could think about was Brooke, and what she’d say if she were here. She’d probably tell Nancy something to help her move forward. Trying to channel strength from Brooke, Gillian sucked in a sharp breath and continued. “You bring up an excellent point. Some men develop narcissistic tendencies, always looking for that perfect person when it’s actually a fear of intimacy. Let’s see what the cards have to say.”
Gillian cut the deck and shuffled the cards. Her hands shook as she pulled the next one. “The Death card. Don’t be alarmed. This is good because it means the start of something new and letting go of what no longer serves you. In your case, it’s all of those bad relationships. You seem to have no trouble attracting people into your life. Your job now is to recognize the ones who aren’t worthy of your attention, and don’t waste time on them.”
Gillian flipped another one. “The Lovers card. I do see someone special coming into your life. This man is your twin flame, your soul mate. The exciting part is that you already know him. He might be a friend or an acquaintance. But first, you need to heal some things inside yourself before I see the relationship moving forward into love. Good luck, Nancy, and please let us know what happens.”
There was no name attached to the next email.
What’s the best way to silence a witch? Think about it and get back to me. Remember, the Devil makes work for idle hands. Stop the tweets, or you’ll end up like your cat.
She felt the blood drain from her face in a rush, and her stomach threatened to revolt. Gillian put her hand over her mouth to swallow her scream. Thankfully, she hadn’t read the email out loud. When she could string words together, she ended her podcast quickly. Her excuse, she was “having an off day.” Tears clogged in her throat. The rush of adrenaline through her veins forced her to push her head between her legs. She took long, deep breaths to stop hyperventilating. Finally, after a few minutes, when her breathing became normal again, she picked up a crystal and held it to the center of her forehead and continued to breathe. With every breath, her focus became clearer. She could continue to fall apart or fight back. She decided on the latter, refusing to let a slimeball like Kurt Lawrence have power over her.
She dried her eyes on her sleeve and glanced at her watch. It was already after five, which meant Garrett was probably waiting for her in the shop. She remembered what he’d said about his heightened senses being able to pick up on a dozen conversations at once even from far away.
Had he heard her podcast? She seriously hoped not. The thought made her flush with embarrassment on top of everything else. She caught a glimpse of her reflection from the mirror on the wall. Today she wore a maroon fuzzy sweater that she’d picked up at a vintage shop, dark skinny jeans, and her favorite black, suede boots. The outfit was simple, but considering how distracted she felt, it seemed like a huge accomplishment.
Trying to smooth down her hair, which tended to frizz, she eventually gave up and pulled a hair tie from around her wrist. She twisted it back in a ponytail. After she cleaned up and gathered her things, she walked out of the storeroom. She spotted Garrett by the copper bowl section. It was hard not to with his tall, broad frame. His dark hair fell over one eye, and some delicious scruff darkened his jaw. He truly was sexy…a sight to behold. He must have sensed her in the room because he looked up, and their gazes locked and held. Her breath came out in a rush. Saje’s words flashed through her mind. You can’t fight that kind of chemistry.
He was exactly the type of male she avoided—the kind who would rip out her heart and crush it to smithereens. So why couldn’t she ignore the attraction between them? If she was honest with herself, she’d admit what she felt for him was more than just attraction. She’d told him personal things—things she rarely told anyone. She’d even confided in him about her mom’s death. The craziest part? He listened and seemed to genuinely care. Once again she wondered if she’d been wrong about him. Now everything seemed to point in that direction. She bit down on her lip, not sure what to believe anymore. Before she became overwhelmed, she crossed the room to where he stood.
Saje walked up to him at the same time with a huge, shit-eating grin plastered across her face. “Fancy seeing you here, Detective Mulroney. I hear it’s not on official business for a change.”
He cleared his throat, and if he was
uncomfortable, he didn’t let it show. “No. I’m here to pick up Gillian. Under the circumstances, I think you should call me Garrett.”
“Well, Garrett, I hear you two are a thing. I’m happy for both of you, but if you do anything to hurt her, you’ll have to answer to a coven full of angry witches,” Saje said, playing along with the ruse. “And we’re not above using magick on you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” His blue eyes flicked back to Gillian, and he closed the distance between them. He shocked her by placing a kiss on her temple. “I missed you today, baby.” Gillian’s cheeks burned at the endearment. “I’m keeping up with appearances,” he whispered close to her ear.
“No need. I told Saje everything,” Gillian whispered back. “She swore not to say a word to the others for Brooke’s safety. I think she was just having a little fun with you.”
“Oh.” He took a step back, shoved his hands in his pockets, and turned his attention on Saje. “Please don’t say a word to anyone about this for the sake of Brooke and the investigation.”
Saje nodded and placed her hand over her heart. “Witches’ Honor.”
Gillian waited for Saje to walk back across the store to help a customer. Then, Gillian’s gaze darted to his. “What’s going on? I’m picking up on your stress vibes.”
“Let’s go somewhere quiet. We need to talk.” He pulled her off to the side and swallowed hard, his eyes glittering with unleashed fury. “I’m afraid there’s been another murder.”
Hearing the gory news became too much. Her whole body shook from head to toe, and before she could stop them, the flood gates opened up.
“Jesus, I’m sorry for just blurting it out.” He stroked her arm and pulled her into a hug.
At first, the strength and heat from his body took her by surprise. Slowly, the tension began to drain, and when her tears finally subsided, she sighed, turning languid in his arms. The intoxicating scent of his cologne comforted and aroused her all at once. With his strong arms wrapped around her, she became painfully aware of the solid muscle beneath his shirt. He rubbed her back, his warmth surrounding her, and her senses went into overload. She wanted to stay wrapped in this cocoon for the rest of the day. But when Saje cleared her throat, she jolted in surprise.
Mulroney dropped his hands and took a step back. This time when he looked into her eyes, his features stretched tight with discomfort. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay.” Breathless from his touch, Gillian shivered, instantly feeling cold. “There’s something else.” After she filled him in on the threatening email Lawrence had sent to her, she shrugged, trying to unknot some of the tension in her shoulders.
“Make sure you forward me that email. We have reason to believe that the murders aren’t being committed by Lawrence himself, but someone in his organization. Don’t let the bastard scare you. That’s what he wants. You have round the clock protection.”
Gillian nodded her head, refusing to let the threat rub her raw. She needed to change the subject. “What does this mean for Brooke? Any luck finding a house with a dragon gate in your database? I know it’s a serious long shot.”
“I’m afraid not. I’m still checking.” He stared at her long and hard. “We have people working day-and-night to find her. I know it’s easier said than done, but you need to be patient.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you. I appreciate you keeping me in the loop.” The news gave her a glimmer hope. “I have a question. When we do find her, what am I supposed to tell everyone after our fake relationship comes to an abrupt end?”
He shrugged. “Simple, I freaked out over commitment issues. We got serious too fast and rushed into things.” For reasons she couldn’t explain, his words left a hollow feeling deep inside her chest. He angled his head to the door. “Are you ready to go?”
“Let me get my coat, and then, I’m all yours.” Saying the words sent a ripple of cold fear coursing through Gillian’s veins because the more time she spent with Garrett, the more she wished this relationship could be real.
Chapter 15
Garrett walked up to Gillian and handed her a glass of water. The second they’d walked through the doors of his apartment, she plopped down at the dining room table and spread out her crystals. She pivoted between her tarot cards and the pendulum trick in what he guessed was an attempt to tune into her cousin once again. By the anguished look on her face, she wasn’t having much luck. He hated seeing her so tense and stressed. “Why don’t you take a break?”
She nodded, looking exhausted. “I suppose you’re right. I need to replenish my magick anyway.” She got up to stretch, and her phone pinged. She picked it up and glanced at the screen, her eyes flaring wide. “One of my followers spotted Kurt Lawrence in a black Range Rover at a gas station in Darien, Connecticut. Somewhere off of Boston Post Road. She posted it on social media.”
“I’m calling the captain.” Garrett picked up his phone and relayed the message to his boss. He ended the call and turned his head to find Gillian pacing the room. “He’s putting out an APB on the vehicle. For now, we do something to calm your nerves before you burn a hole into the rug.”
A half-hour later, Gillian nodded toward the TV, looking visibly relaxed. “Let me get this straight, the plot of this movie revolves around a Romanian knight who curses his soul and becomes a vampire to reunite with his lost love? It seems rather extreme don’t you think?” Gillian asked, taking a sip of her wine.
In pink PJ pants and a crème oversized sweatshirt—one side slipped off of her smooth bare shoulder showing a tantalizing glimpse of a black lace bra strap—she exuded softness and femininity. Even her damn feet were cute, encased in white fluffy slippers.
“It certainly runs contrary to the dating advice you give on your podcast,” Garrett pointed out, setting the open bottle of Bâtard Montrachet on the table.
After he checked all the windows and doors in his apartment, they retreated to the basement. They reclined back in theater chairs, surrounded by the glow of candlelight, cartons of Chinese takeout, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn, and a couple of glasses of crisp chardonnay while the opening credits for Bram Stokers’ Dracula rolled.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed spending time with a woman more. “Some might even accuse you of being a hopeless romantic.”
Her face flushed. “I guess you caught some of my podcast before I totally lost it?”
“I didn’t know why at the time, but you acted like a pro. I’m sorry for listening in. I admit I was curious. I found your advice quite interesting.” He wanted so much to tell her that despite the current trend to keep swiping right, any male who didn’t spoil her or cater to her every whim was a complete moron. He took a long pull of his wine instead. “Back to the film, in terms of Dracula, much like other besotted males who came before him, he became tortured when the woman he loved perished. Taking his grief to the extreme, he cursed his soul to avenge her death.”
Swirling the contents in her glass, Gillian motioned to the screen before her eyes latched onto his. “I’m guessing there’s no happily ever after for those two.”
“I’m afraid not. Their love ended in tragedy like most relationships between humans and the undead do.” Saying it brought Garrett back to the moment he relinquished his humanity all those years ago. The memory would stay with him forever, burned into his soul like a brand. She needed to hear the truth because he was starting to like this woman, and no matter how much he wished it wasn’t so, Garrett had nothing to offer her long term. But not now. He couldn’t ruin this perfect mood, couldn’t erase the smile from her lips. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen this movie. I don’t watch much TV. I favor the classics, and this is one of the best in my humble opinion,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.
She pressed pause on the remote and swallowed. “There’s a question I’ve been dying to ask. I feel like you know so much about me, and yet I know very little about your past. If we’re g
oing to pull off this charade successfully without raising suspicion, you should probably tell me how you became a vampire. I mean, it’s not something we’ve talked about, and if you feel uncomfortable, or if the subject’s too painful, I understand.”
The question turned his mood dark. His shoulders slumped forward. Living an immortal life meant forever moving forward, and yet, there were some things he’d rather forget. “No, it’s okay.” If he ever hoped to forge any sort of relationship with her, even if it could only be ephemeral, he’d have to come clean about his past. After what she’d been through with Lawrence, she deserved the truth. Although once she heard it, she might be repulsed by his misdeeds, at least he’d know where things stood.
“I grew up in Viscri, a small village outside of Transylvania with my family. It was a simple life for the most part. My parents loved each other deeply and my younger sister, Sadie, was the apple of my eye. She was the kindest, gentlest soul I’ve ever known, and by the same token, she possessed this fire inside of her, a vivaciousness to live life. Nothing scared her. You remind me a lot of her.” The words were out of his mouth before he could take them back. He only wished his voice didn’t sound so pained.
“I remind you of her?” Gillian repeated, surprise lacing her voice.
He nodded. “It was a happy home filled with laughter and love.”
Her face broke out into a beautiful smile. “You were lucky. Not all kids can say the same, myself included. It’s the main reason I moved into the coven after my mom died. I never had any siblings and it was a chance to have a family.” Her voice took on a wistful tone. “I’m sorry. Please go on.”
His fingers brushed the back of her hand, and she drew in a breath. An ache of deep longing filled his chest. “Don’t be sorry. Vlad Tepes was from Wachovia, a village not far from where I grew up. The year was 1850 and a disease known as Porphyria began to spread.” He gulped the rest of his wine and set the glass on the table. “When a person became infected, they grew sensitive to sunlight, and their gums receded, making their teeth appear fang-like. There was no cure and many were found half dead with blood seeping from their mouths. Death was everywhere, and the villagers couldn’t keep up with the bodies. They buried many in shallow graves. When some would wake up, dig themselves out and come back to town, they were labeled dracules, or devils. Gruesome tales of vampirism began to spread, and people lived in fear.”
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