“You’re not casters,” I finished.
“Your ad didn’t say we had to be casters.” Adam sounded truculent.
Gideon still smiled. “We’ll get the job done. There’s an ancient feud between our people and the undead. Vampires are supposed to be confined to cities, while we live in the country. It’s true the world over. A tiny town like Midway City is hardly urban sprawl. If they’re here, they’re breaking the truce and must be stopped.”
“We’ll mash those varmints like fleas.” There was a growl in Adam’s voice. He pounded his left fist into the palm of his right hand. “Chew up the whole blood bank and burn it to ash. That’s the only way. Stake them and burn them.”
“All well and good but this is not about vampires.” I frowned. “There are vampires in Midway City. Many through the old Civil War battlefields—and this was a hotbed of activity. But my goal is broader cleansing, banishing malevolent spirits, driving out demons, plus destroying vampires we might find along the way. I’d have stipulated casters in the ad if I’d thought… Well, I didn’t realize people like—”
Adam was bristling, leaning forward so the licorice smell came in clear. “You didn’t reckon Spellman allowed trash to sign up for their newsletters?”
Gideon gave him a shove. “Our silver in the Smoke Pack subscribes. She passed it along. If you’re not sure we can help, at least offer us a trial.”
“You … right…” I batted at a mosquito. “I didn’t realize there were shifters in the Smoky Mountains.”
“Only our pack,” Gideon started.
“Doesn’t matter that we’re not mages.” Adam still sounded angry. “You take care of spirits. We’re not yellow. Moon, we’ll distract them. Then let us take out blood-sucking vermin.”
“This isn’t a vampire hunt,” I repeated.
“Are you aware that shifters are immune to their venom?” Gideon asked.
Honestly, I wasn’t aware of much about werewolves. Shifters were supposed to be out West. Vampire lore I knew from my parents, and a werewolf/vampire feud sounded familiar. One hid from humans, one preyed on humans. Beyond that…?
“So, you can’t be turned into vampires?” I asked, beginning to wonder for the first time. Two casters and two muscles? I could be worse off. Alone, for example.
“If they snap those knitting needles at us I’ll rip them out and shove them down their Moon-cursed throats,” Adam said.
“We’ll keep them off you,” Gideon said, all smiles and white teeth, less pointed than knitting needles. “And you keep phantasms off us. We can take the bites, you can’t. You can find ghosts, we can’t.”
I used to find them…
Adam grinned. “We’re like Moon and stars, ice and sweet tea, cats and fleas, cake and—”
“We get it,” Gideon cut him off. “Point is, we’re made for each other. Just tell us where to be and when.”
“We have to work at night, when they’re active,” I started.
“No problem,” Adam said. “We’ve better lamps than you anyway.”
“Lamps…?”
“Eyes,” Gideon said. “Better low-light vision than humans.”
“And I can’t pay you much,” I said. “This is—” A mission? Vengeance? Do or die? Often illegal? “This is a service to the town. I’m just trying to … help.”
“What a coincidence.” Gideon beamed. “Now, since we have hours of daylight still, supper? I smell burgers east and barbecue west.”
“Gonna like this town,” Adam said with Gideon still talking.
“Which would you enjoy while my friend lopes along after his doe?”
“So you are friends?” I asked. “You look like brothers.”
“Our families are interrelated,” Gideon said. “We aren’t many. It makes us odd.” With a sad gesture at Adam. “Case in point. But we don’t all stalk roadkill or hunt crawfish with our tails.”
Adam snorted. “That wasn’t you, then, throwing the opossum on the grill? Flat as a plug nickel and been out in the sun—”
“If we’ll be up all night we’ll want supper,” Gideon continued, both talking at once, “and to get to know each other. Just point the way.”
“I’m not going to eat with you,” I said. “This is an interview, not a first date.” Why was I having to explain that twice in one day? “But, if you do want to give the work a try … I guess you can come along tonight. As far as I know, there are no vampires around this first house, though it’s hard to tell from superficial detection spells. We’ll know when we get in. Meet me at sunset. I’ll text you the address.”
“How?” Adam asked.
“No phones,” Gideon said. “But if you tell us we’ll find our way.”
“What do you mean no phones?” I frowned.
“We have no phones.” Gideon added more words, like this would settle everything.
I waited.
“Do you play backgammon?” Adam asked. “I’m the best backgammon player in the pack. If you aim to be a dandy player, talk to me.” Jabbing himself in the chest with his left thumb.
“He is,” Gideon conceded. “And chess. You wouldn’t think it, would you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t you trouble yourself.” With a chuckle, Gideon gave him a playful shove that knocked Adam into the next parking space.
“You think I’m stupid?” Adam demanded. “Think I shouldn’t be able to tell a bishop from a pawn?”
“You’re a pawn.” Gideon turned his grin on Adam. “The way you’ve been tracking Maggie like a pup in spring? Come running at a wag?”
“Do you have something to say about Mags?” Adam moved into his face.
“Sniff after any trail you want. Your hunt.” Gideon shrugged. He smiled at me again. “She’s his first cousin—and there wasn’t a bushel of diversity in their parents either. I, on the other hand, don’t curl up with anyone at the moment.”
“Nothing happening with me and Mags,” Adam snapped. “You turn a worm into a crocodile every damn chance you get, Gideon. Splash of rain on your whiskers and next thing we know you’re singing how the sky’s falling.”
“I stay alert. That’s hardly—”
“Wait,” I said. “You seriously have no phones?”
They glanced at me, then each other, tense muscles relaxing some.
“I called you on a landline,” Gideon said.
Cicadas sang. Adam shifted his weight with a slight creak in his leather boots. A station wagon drove past on Jefferson Street beyond the parking lot, rustling scorched leaves of an elm.
Gideon opened his mouth, charming smile returning, ready for a new proposal.
“Okay,” I said. “Whatever. I have to get ready for tonight. I’ll be back here, this spot, in two hours. You can follow me to the place. You better be here when I arrive because I’m not waiting again.”
3
I checked my phone as last rays of the sun slipped beyond the smooth curve of hillside and green sycamores. The two werewolves had followed, on time, to the big, dilapidated white house at the end of a long drive beside barn, peach grove, and unmown hayfield. Only the mage was missing.
While the two vampire-hunters climbed off their bikes, removed bundles of wooden stakes from saddlebags, and sniffed around the long gravel drive, I opened the Volvo’s trunk. Here sprawled paper plates and bowls, paper towels and trash bags, plastic grocery bags, a spoon, gallons of water, a case of Wellness chicken pâté 16-ounce cans, a bag of grain-free cat food, a cat carrier, a live trap, slip leashes, old towels, a box of dog biscuits, a squeaky toy, and a small sack of dog kibble. I needed a new box of parasite tablets. Ticks, fleas, worms, heart worm—we had it all.
With the sun just set, I dropped sunglasses back into the car and put on my regular prescriptions. This made me remember I’d broken one of Mom’s golden rules. No glasses at a house. Always wear contacts.
I grit my teeth, suddenly furious at her. If she was still here, I wouldn’t be making mista
kes as I tried to do her job for her. But no. I’d put on jeans just to humor her in this blaze, hadn’t I? Contacts next time.
I let out a breath and started with the bags. An initial trip around to the back of the barn revealed nothing but bird calls, ants, and mosquitoes around the overgrown ground and apple trees. These were not ready, but the peaches had come in this year, the grove still bursting with fruit despite locals knowing the property was abandoned. Fifty yards from the barn this grove was surrounded by a rail fence so old the white paint remained only in a few chips and flakes.
Scattered in a rough line away from holes at the base of the barn wall rested previous paper plates and bowls. Ants still swarmed and floated in the water moats. I dumped everything into the plastic bag and tied it up tight while talking at the barn.
“Evening, Mil-Mil. Hey, kit-kit-kits. How’s everyone this evening? Keeping cool, Bramble?”
Back at the Volvo, I found a couple of werewolves with their noses hovering over my trunk.
“What are you doing?”
They looked up and each took a step back.
“What are you doing?” Gideon asked while Adam said, “Smells good. Peanut butter?”
“The dog biscuits?” I grabbed one of the real trash bags and tied this around the first small one, ensuring no ants swarmed my car. “You can smell that when you’re … you know…?” Glancing sideways at them while I worked.
“In skin?” Gideon asked. “Oh, yes. Nothing like as well as we can scent in fur. But don’t worry about us. We ate.”
“Worry? I wasn’t about to offer you my dog biscuits.” Had they really gone back to eat that deer? If so, how? Raw? Cooked on a banned fire off the road? Did they change shape to eat? Could they do that? Change at will whenever they wanted? Or did they need certain conditions like a ritual to change?
I went about my business while they stared. Exactly like dogs while their supper was being prepared. Which was unnerving when it was two hulking, disconcertingly attractive guys I’d just met. I wasn’t going to make conversation, though. I only needed help for my mission to succeed. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Who’s all that for?” Adam asked while I separated a can into two paper bowls.
“My cousin Alice.” Hands sweaty, I kept working.
“She lives here? Then wouldn’t she know if there are vampires?”
I looked up from the prep station in the trunk and focused on Adam through crimson hair falling in my face.
“For real? It’s for cats. Feral cats who live on the property.”
They looked from the aromatic pâté to scan the vicinity, glanced at each other, then walked away, heading for the barn on the same path I’d followed.
“Hold on—what are you doing? Those cats are wild. They won’t let you approach.”
They hesitated.
“They’re not … out?” Gideon asked casually.
“Running around?” Adam added.
“Well, sometimes they’re—wait. You can’t go after those cats.”
The pair seemed to be considering this. Gideon gazed toward the peach grove while Adam looked longingly down the path.
“If you chase, scare, or in any way traumatize those cats, I will hex you,” I said. “You’re not even—you’re on two feet!”
Adam glanced down at himself. He smiled at what he saw.
Gideon nodded vaguely. He wandered off toward the peach grove as if that had been his plan all along. “Sure thing. Just … let us know whenever you’re ready to proceed. Lightning bugs coming out, Adam.”
Adam followed him.
What had I gotten myself into?
I made sure they were picking peaches before I resumed my work, soon carrying plates and bowls around the barn with twilight settling.
I set each bowl into a paper plate filled with water. This helped to stop the flow of ants into the food. Then one full bowl of water for the cats.
By the time I had everything set out, talking all the while, Bramble and several of that spring’s kittens were eating. A black tom slunk through the long grass, waiting for me to move on. Mil-Mil wouldn’t show herself. I had to catch that girl. All the local toms were neutered and re-released, but what good did it do if I couldn’t get my hands on the tortoiseshell kitten machine? All it took was one roaming tom to visit the territory and she was knocked up again.
Mom and Dad had caught each of this new generation. There weren’t enough homes and rescues for all the feral cats in the area, but we could at least halt the spread. If only something could be done about that slippery Mil-Mil. Mom had been able to catch any cat with enough time and a live trap. Any besides Mil-Mil.
Maybe send a wolf after her?
I sighed as I started back. “I’ll catch her. Before another litter. I promise.” One more matter of unfinished business. One more thing that seemed the least I could do for my parents who, eleven days ago, had all the time in the world.
The fireflies were indeed out, tiny pops of yellow light through purple dusk. Time for Wade to arrive. Wade with his smartphone and ability to map an address.
I wasn’t even finished cleaning up, watching for headlights on the county road, when I heard shouting.
Dammit, I should have made my threat more specific.
I raced for the grove. “Don’t you dare hurt those cats!”
4
Gideon and Adam were throwing peaches and sprinting through the trees. Even on my long legs I hadn’t a chance but stopped at the fence.
“Hey! Leave those cats alone!”
“Not a cat!” Adam called back.
I felt a chill. But vampires wouldn’t face sunlight, they wouldn’t be out yet. While less solid evil spirits lurking on the property wouldn’t be visible to them.
At the far end up the grove, the two imposing figures stopped, gazing out through the field. They were muttering but I couldn’t distinguish words from here. In fact … I’m not sure they were speaking English.
A firefly blinked by my face and I waved it away. “What do you mean not a cat? What is it?”
Gideon turned and started back through the gloomy trees, still lit by a pink and indigo sky.
“Nothing.” Tone now calm. “Just a fox.”
“A fox…?” Was a fox taking some of the cat food? I’d never seen one around, yet that didn’t mean anything. We had red and gray foxes here, both as elusive as rainbows in a snowstorm.
Mom could have scried and known if a fox was taking the food. I couldn’t scry my way around a corner, hardly even perform basic detection spells for infested houses. This, for the first time, seemed like a serious problem. It shouldn’t have mattered because I shouldn’t be doing this.
In a week’s time I was supposed to have been starting college, immersed in the natural world, mastering grades to keep options open. A lot can change overnight. Including realizing that you actually need to master detecting and dealing with infestation and cleansing old houses. I had much to study, all right. But it wasn’t going to be in school. Not this year.
“Ugly little sucker eating peaches,” Gideon said as he came through the grove, pausing to pick one at arm’s reach. He brushed it off and brought it to me.
“So what? You were eating peaches.”
“Scared the scrawny bastard,” Adam called happily, also heading for us. “They think they’re so sharp.”
“Superiority complex.” Gideon nodded. “Have to keep them in their place.”
“It was a fox. I don’t think he’s thinking he’s anything in particular.” Taking the peach from Gideon, I refrained from rolling my eyes. Still, I couldn’t complain about their apparent fox-loathing when I was glad they’d run it off just now, so the cats had first dibs.
Not wormy, this was one of the good, high up peaches he’d brought me. Almost too ripe. Also, strangely enough, the first thing I’d eaten in ten days that tasted good. I was starting on the peach as I walked, and headlights turned in at the drive. Lateness was a group theme already.
/> Wade offered a wave as he climbed from his car. Mechanical expertise had been no exaggeration if the vintage vehicle was any indication. A classic blue Corvette of a bygone era, obviously loved and refurbished.
His smiling attention was drawn from me to the two motorcycles even as he shut his door.
Juice of the peach was running down my palm, then arm, before I could stop it—bending forward, struggling to keep drops from my V-neck. A dribble splatted to my walking shoes. Despite heat that lasted through the evening, held in by humidity, I’d had to change into lace-ups along with jeans for the job ahead.
I almost missed Wade’s comment. Something about the motorcycles, asking if I’d put together a team. That peach was so damn good. A flood of sweet, hint of tang, soft, warm flesh that seemed to melt in my mouth while the skin was a pleasant, chewy fuzz. Why was this particular peach insanely delicious? Possibly the best thing I’d ever eaten?
Had Gideon done something to it? An enchantment? No, shifters weren’t spellcasters. Their magic was within their own bodies. Only humans were casters.
Somehow, though, that peach was a magical gift.
Wade was walking over, all smiles, fireflies blinking around his tousled hair in the gloom. He gave me a bow, holding out a long-stemmed, yellow carnation. The flower itself also had a hint of glow to it.
“Maybe not for firsts, but a gift on a third date wouldn’t come amiss.” Wade grinned.
That night at The Silk Door…
He’d sat with a flourish that could have been bravado, or nerves. Someone in the speed dating pool had given him the flower. I’d only asked if it was for me for something to lead, a joke. Wade had at once handed it over. Slaying a plant to give to someone for no better purpose than for that person to look at it had never made sense to me. Mom was the type to talk to her garden. On the other hand, yellow and blue were my favorite colors together. When that pale young man had handed me the flower over the table between us, there had been a moment when it formed a triangle with his eyes. The feeling I’d had right then…
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