Stake and Dust (Stake and Dust series, Book I)

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  "Thank you for your cooperation," she told the demon.

  "Sure. Whatever," he said and turned away from them.

  Tremayne and Cassandra backed away from the bar, but only managed to get halfway toward the front door when the Fae flitted over to them, but Cassandra had her dagger in hand before the Fae could make a move against them. "Don't even blink, or you'll feel the sting," she warned. Her blade glinted with lethal intent.

  The Fae lifted his hands in mock surrender as he took a step back.

  Tremayne opened the door and let Cassandra exit first, while he kept vigil. Any sudden movement from anyone and he'd take them down.

  The scent of sea and salt never smelled so heavenly as he let the door close behind him, shutting out the stale coffee and heated tension, but it didn't mean they were safe. A second later confirmed his suspicions.

  "You're either stupid or brave, but I can't tell which."

  They both turned toward the voice in unison. The werewolf, who had been seated in the pub when they first arrived, now leaned against the establishment's façade in a nonchalant manner, casually smoking a cigar. With his smoke between his lips, he realized why the werewolf had reminded him of someone. He looked like a young Hugh Jackman as Wolverine. Maybe it was the look the werewolf was going for or perhaps Hugh knew this werewolf personally and had fashioned his look from him.

  Cassandra didn't lower her weapon. "Do you have something to say?" she asked.

  The Hugh-lookalike puffed on his cigar then gave her a quick nod. "If you're looking for the Lamia and her vamp lover, their boat makes its home in slot 53. But the duo's been bragging about how they enjoy living it up at Eternal Bliss. If you asked me, they seemed too eager to drop the pub's name." The werewolf met Tremayne's gaze and held it with meaning.

  Cassandra peered at him too. "You did tell me the vamp was expected to show at your place. Maybe he'll bring his girlfriend the next time he visits."

  At first he didn't know what she was talking about, but then he remembered the real Gerard Green had texted her, stating the vamp was going to be at Eternal Bliss. He'd been killed in the alleyway behind his pub because of this knowledge, or perhaps it had been all a set up. Green's death could have been part of the plan all along.

  "We could head back to Eternal Bliss now and see if we spot anyone on the prowl," Tremayne said, and then glanced to where the werewolf had been standing, but he had already disappeared into the night. Probably a wise choice on his part.

  Realizing they were relatively safe now, Cassandra sheathed her dagger. "Let's head over to slip 53 first before we head back to the pub. We could scope out their cozy little place. See if anyone is at home."

  "Right behind you." God, he hoped no one was there. Both beings were lethal and he didn't fancy being in close quarters with either one of the preternatural beings when Cassandra was with him. Not that he doubted her capabilities, but he didn't want to expose his secret either. A fight would surely reveal he was not a human hunter.

  They strode over to the wharf with minimal small talk. She was all business tonight dressed in her cargo pants, T-shirt, jacket and boots. He wondered where she hid all her weapons. He knew without her flashing them in his face, she had more than one hidden on her person.

  "I see it," she said and strode ahead of him toward the slot. The boat was actually a small yacht, a cabin cruiser no more than 13.7 meters in length. The name on the side, printed in dark blue script, spelled La Belle Dame. All that was missing was Sans Merci to quote the title of Keats' ballad regarding a Lamia. The name of the yacht definitely reminded him of Lorelei's sense of humor.

  Cassandra palmed her gun, a model he didn't recognize, but he would bet it held bullets meant to eliminate preternatural beings. He didn't show up empty handed either. He had a dagger, which he gripped in his hand also.

  The water lapped against the haul and the scent of seawater hit his nostrils, but no other sounds or scents overwhelmed his senses, indicating no one would be there to greet them as they stepped aboard.

  The cruiser proved spacious with a galley, small dining area, and a cabin in the rear of the cockpit. The room sported a double bed and it appeared well slept in or well used with the sheets rumpled in a disarray of dark blue silk.

  "No one's here," he spoke the obvious.

  Cassandra stashed her weapon in the side pocket of her pants, making him curious to know what other handy-dandy weaponry rested in the other pockets, and at the same time, he hoped he'd never ended up on the receiving end to find out.

  "What exactly are we looking for?" he asked her.

  "I don't know, but we'll know when we find it."

  Not much of a plan, he thought, but it didn't stop him from following her lead to snoop through the drawers. He'd just opened the third one, of a built in dresser situated beside the bed, when a noise pricked his ears. He waved to Cassandra and placed a finger over his lips. They weren't alone.

  She halted her search and like magic a dagger appeared in her hand.

  Hiding proved a problem and the bedroom didn't offer a back exit. It appeared fighting there way out would be their only option. He palmed his weapon once more.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cassandra glanced at her surroundings and cursed softly. Of course there was no way out, and coming face to face with the enemy, on their turf, didn't strike her as the best strategy.

  Since there had been no conversation, she'd bet they were dealing with only one preternatural being. They needed to get the jump on this guy...or gal, depending who had arrived home.

  Her gaze landed on the door to the bathroom. She scrambled over the bed and grabbed Tremayne's arm as she dragged him toward their designated hideout.

  Once inside, she slid the door closed and not a second too soon. Her ears picked up someone entering the room they'd just vacated. The bathroom proved cramp for one person, even worse when there were two, and especially when one of the occupants happened to be a man with broad shoulders. They stood very close, her hips and chest were getting to know him really well.

  She tilted her chin and met his gaze. She'd swear his eyes were a shade darker than she remembered them to be, but the light was minimal from the door being cracked open just a tad. She should glance away, but where could she rest her gaze when he filled her line of vision?

  She loved the shape of his mouth, and the man knew how to kiss and she could imagine other things he could do with that mouth. Rugged jaw with just a hint of a five o'clock shadow met her eyes next. Glancing lower, she stared at broad shoulders. She wondered if he sported hair on his chest or if he was one of those guys who waxed. Was it hot in here? And, did he have to smell so damn delicious. Was that aftershave or was it just his scent…earthy and alluring?

  She shook her head to clear her muddled thoughts. There stood a good chance they would have to fight their way out of this situation. She didn't have time to fantasize about her partner and the way he felt flushed against her. She and Tremayne would make a nice welcome home prize, if the Lamia or the vamp happened to open the bathroom door. She'd like it better if she weren't all starry-eyed and breathless when she met the enemy face to face.

  She took shallow breaths and prayed the preternatural being present didn't pick up on their scent. She chanced a glance at Tremayne, who seemed to be handling their close quarters rather well. Calm and collected, came to mind. Covert missions must have been his specialty, and didn't that just make him even more attractive.

  She shifted her attention and slid the door open just enough to peer out. Tremayne didn't seem to approve of her curiosity. His hand snaked out to stop her, but she brushed it away. She had to see what was going on. Since there still hadn't been any conversation, she could conclude the being out there was truly alone. In the next second, a male appeared in her line of vision, most likely Gunthorn.

  He looked like what she'd imagined a Viking to look like with his light hair pulled back in a ponytail. He had thick thighs and he was tall, maybe even taller
than Tremayne, but then he was from the Draugr sept, and original vampires were always larger than hybrids. Still, all the vampire needed to prove her point would be to conjure a wooden shield and sword, but fortunately at this moment, weapons weren't on his mind. He held what appeared to be a dark gray scarf. He slid the fabric between his fingers, staring at it before he closed his eyes and lifted it to his nose. He breathed in with a sigh. She frowned at his odd behavior, but the weird vibe just kept getting better. He strode over to the tall dresser stationed against the wall near the bed. He crouched down and shoved his hand beneath the furniture. She heard a click then the wall opened to reveal a hidden space behind it.

  What the hell? she thought, and glanced at Tremayne, who scooted closer to have a look.

  His brows furrowed and he shifted his weight, making her even more acutely aware of how close they stood together. His hands gripped her waist and lifted her so she sat on the sink, with her straddling him so he could move closer. It gave them breathing room, but the position seemed even more intimate than when they were standing close together.

  She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and forced herself to concentrate on the perp. She frowned wondering why the vamp hadn't sensed them yet, but then he seemed preoccupied with the scent of the scarf and what lay hidden behind the door. Once he secreted the scarf away in the compartment, he secured it again before walking over to the bed and plopping down as if he were ready to take a nap. He fluffed the pillows then stuffed it behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling with a satisfied smirk.

  Just flippin' fantastic. They would have to make a move before his lover returned home and decided to join him. Dealing with one preternatural being was better than having to deal with two. She met Tremayne's gaze and knew he felt the same as she did.

  He mouthed, "On three." He lifted the hand that wasn't resting on her thigh, and began counting off the seconds by using his digits. One, two…three!

  He threw open the door and she catapulted out of the bathroom after him.

  Gunthorn flew from the bed with a curse as Tremayne let his dagger fly, hitting the vamp in the shoulder. The vamp hissed, and his fangs elongated like sharp razors ready to slice and dice into someone's flesh. Right now she had a pretty good idea it was Tremayne's flesh he'd like to tear into. He went after Tremayne, but she anticipated the move as she let her dagger sail through the air, hitting the vamp in the throat. He grabbed at the weapon as he fell to the floor. As the blood hit the iron-fashioned blade, it sizzled and popped sounding like water hitting hot oil. The vamp gripped the weapon's hilt, but the iron blade had already weakened him and he couldn't pull the offensive weapon from his flesh.

  Tremayne crouched down on his haunches beside Gunthorn. "Questioning him might take a while since he'll need to heal so he can talk." He chanced a look at Cassandra.

  "Would you have preferred I let him attack you?" she said with a raised brow.

  He pursed his lips and didn't answer. He stared at the vamp and then reached for the dagger and yanked it out. More blood spurted out like a fountain.

  "Jaysus." Tremayne jumped back and away from the fountain of foul.

  "Must have hit an artery," she said and strode over to the bed and grabbed a pillow. Removing the pillowcase, she tossed it to Tremayne.

  Even injured, Gunthorn tried to make a run for it, but Tremayne slammed him down to the floor. "Stay still, boyo, or you'll bleed out," Tremayne warned him. "Smothering might come later, but right now we need to have us a nice chat." The vamp clutched Tremayne's hands, but made no attempt to escape as he glared his hatred. "Check out his secret compartment," Tremayne ordered as he worked to stop the vampire from bleeding out before they could question him.

  "Already on it," she said as she used the bed to hop around Tremayne and the vampire.

  It took her a few minutes to find the release button and pop the door open, but once she did, she stood back to take it all in at once. Scarves, necklaces, earrings, buttons, and other trinkets were situated either on small shelves or hanging from nails on the door. It took her a moment, but then she understood what she viewed. "Holy mother," she whispered. These were keepsakes of his victims. "Sick bastard." She glanced over her shoulder at Tremayne. "Is he dead? 'Cause I'm thinking I'd like to slit his throat."

  Tremayne glanced at her and then at the hidden compartment. He swore under his breath. "He'll live. So you'll have to stand in line for the next throat slashing. I think I'd like to have my turn first."

  Gunthorn made an attempt to scramble away again, but Tremayne held him in place. "Let's bind him." She pulled out cuffs from her back pocket and he lifted his eyebrows. "You do come prepared, don't you?"

  "You never know when you might need these. For business or...for fun."

  He choked on a laugh. "Fun? Didn't picture you for the kinky kind of lass." His gaze shifted over her in a new light and she found it all kinds of sexy the way his eyes took her in. Maybe she shouldn't have teased, but it seemed she couldn't help it where he was concerned.

  "Never tried it," she said with a shrug, "but it could be fun with the right person."

  This made him laugh even harder. "I do love a woman with a sense of humor." He flipped Gunthorn over as soon as he realized the bleeding at the vamp's neck had nearly stopped. The vamp must have known there was no escape, but it didn't stop him from squirming and hissing to get away as Tremayne secured the cuffs. The vamp's skin burned from the iron and his bellows of pain followed. Tremayne ignored his outburst and yanked the vamp up by the scuff of his shirt and sat him down on his rump. "Stay," he ordered.

  The vamp may be subdued due to the iron in the cuffs, but Tremayne still had to handle the being with super strength compared to a human. She was impressed even more with Tremayne's capabilities, but then he rubbed his hands together and grimaced. She wondered if he had hurt himself.

  "Are you all right?" she asked.

  He nodded. "I'm good." Then he leveled his gaze on Gunthorn. "Now that we're nice and comfortable," he said, "how about you tell us where your girlfriend is?"

  "Bite me," the vamp sneered.

  "You'd like that wouldn't you, fang boy," Cassandra scoffed as she retrieved her discarded dagger from the floor. She approached the vamp and purposely ran the blade across the vamps neck. The skin sizzled at the touch, making the vamp screech in pain all over again. "You are a whiny one, aren't you?"

  "Bitch!" he screamed at her.

  Tremayne backhanded him across the face. "Watch your language."

  Gunthorn then eyed Tremayne with interest. "I know you from Eternal Bliss. Yeah, you're the owner, aren't you? What are you doing with a hunter?" He inclined his head toward Cassandra. "If you know what's good for you, you'd stick to serving drinks."

  "We're asking the questions," Tremayne said. "If the hunter doesn't finish you off, I'm sure the Guards of Judgment would love to get their hands on you." Tremayne's threat to bring in the Otherworldly assassins seemed to sober the vamp – at least for the moment. "Now, where is your partner?" Tremayne asked.

  "Lorelei is out and about," he spat and then met Tremayne's gaze with a glint in his eye.

  Was it her imagination or had Tremayne blanched when he heard the Lamia's name? Before she could decipher the truth, Tremayne lunged at the vampire, gripping the guy's shirt and bringing the vampire up close and personal.

  "We can see that you limy bastard. Where is she?"

  Gunthorn pursed his lips and Tremayne backhanded him again and let him fall hard against the wall.

  "All right already." He spat out blood to the side. I have no intentions of letting you beat the information out of me."

  So much for loyalty to Lorelei, Cassandra thought, but she wouldn't argue if Gunthorn wanted to spill his guts. Made their job a whole lot easier.

  "She's with a pretty boy I picked up for her." He eyed Tremayne. "Be forewarned, Lorelei don't like you, man." He chuckled then, slow and with meaning. "No, not one bit. Wants to make sure you're the on
e the Guards of Judgment look at when they come calling."

  Cassandra frowned. The GOJ didn't interfere with hunter business. Even if Tremayne had somehow been involved with the kidnappings and murder, the hunters took care of their own. Tremayne was one of them. Then again the vamp didn't strike her as being very smart. He gave them information without even trying to make a bargain with them first.

  The vamp laughed even harder. "Where do you get off, Tremayne? Cavorting with hunters and acting as if you're one of them."

  "I'm one for order," Tremayne said. "Hunter, vamp… we all have to follow rules to survive."

  Gunthorn peered at Cassandra. "She don't strike me as one to compromise. Stake and dust most likely."

  She glanced at the vamp before she leveled her sights on Tremayne. "What exactly is he getting at?"

  "She don't know, does she?" The vamp snickered. "Oh, how rich. She don't know you're not so upstanding as you appear." He looked at Cassandra then. "He's just like me when it comes to justice."

  Tremayne lifted Gunthorn by his lapels. "Let's get one thing straight here. I am nothing like you. Nothing!" He shoved him away. The vamp remained quiet but the smirk seemed to be a permanent expression.

  Cassandra would like to question Tremayne about Gunthorn's accusations, but she'd deal with that later. "I'd be a little less concerned about Tremayne and more concerned with your well being," she said and was glad her statement had wiped the smile off Gunthorn's face. "Now," she continued, "where does Lorelei take her victims?"

  Gunthorn pursed his lips as if he were finished talking now.

  "Answer her," Tremayne barked.

  "You two are–" Gunthorn didn't finish his response since Tremayne's fist prevented it. "Crap, man," Gunthorn screeched. "Whatcha do that for?"

  "I could do this all night," Tremayne said with a shrug.