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

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  "Not for long. My informant told me the GOJ is on it. They'll catch him." He wanted to lean down and press his lips to hers and tell her everything would be all right. He clenched his teeth and willed himself not to react on the impulse. "You can go home with a clear conscience. You took care of business."

  Her brows drew together once more as she stared at him. Most likely wondering why he was pushing her away when he'd made the cockamamie suggestion they should go on a date after they closed the case. However, almost losing her tonight, put things in perspective. Cassandra Hayes needed to go home. It was for the best…for both of them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Once in her hotel room, Cassandra retrieved her spare phone from her suitcase. In her line of work, she never knew when she'd have to replace the device and always packed two for emergencies. Tonight's unintentional swim proved her point.

  With one quick call to her brother Axel, all her calls from the old phone were forwarded to the new one. She headed for the bathroom to take a long hot shower. She placed the phone on the sink and plugged in the charger, then proceeded to strip out of her damp clothes, tossing them in a pile on the floor. While she waited for the water to warm in the shower, she glanced in the mirror and grimaced at her reflection. She looked a sight with her hair plastered to her face in disarray. Her mascara had smeared and she had the starting of a bruise on her cheek too. She gingerly touched the area and winced.

  She turned away with a tired sigh and pulled back the shower curtain and stepped in, letting the warmth of the water sooth her sore limbs. She had nothing to complain about when she still lived and breathed due to Tremayne's bravery. He didn't have to dive in after her when the Lamia dragged her into the water, but he had without a thought for his own safety. He'd been a damn good partner despite her first reservations.

  Buzzzzz…Buzzzz…

  The annoying sound of her cell phone reached her ears. She willed it to stop, but no such luck. She pulled back the shower curtain and glanced at the number on the screen. What were the chances it was simply a wrong number? "Should have set up the voicemail," she grumbled and reached for a hand-towel to dry her hand before she slid a finger over the accept button. She put the caller on speaker.

  "Hello?" she said and waited.

  "Miss Hayes?" She recognized the voice as the detective's she'd spoken to at the marina.

  "Yes." She'd given him her number but hadn't really expected him to need to call her.

  "I just wanted to verify something with you."

  "Sure." She reached for one of the larger towels on the shelf to dry off. "Shoot." She dressed as she talked.

  "You stated Lorelei Rivers used an explosive at the hotel, but was still able to escape your capture by taking the fire escape stairs."

  "That's right," she said slowly. Sure she'd made up the story, but there was no reason to question it.

  "Miss Hayes, there were no fire escape stairs."

  "They must have fallen after she used them," she said.

  "You misunderstand," the detective said. "There aren't any stairs because there never were any."

  She'd slipped a sweatshirt over her head and stared at the phone. What did he mean there never were any stairs? There had to be. Tremayne used them to come through the window when they attempted to capture Lorelei in her hotel room.

  "Miss Hayes?"

  "I guess I'd assumed there were stairs. How else could she manage to get down three stories?" She chuckled. "She couldn't have jumped without seriously hurting herself. Could she have used a rope?" She threw the question back to him and hoped he bought the lie.

  "Perhaps," he said after a moment. There was a long pause again.

  "Is there anything else, detective?"

  "No, sorry to disturb you. If I have any other questions, I'll give you a call."

  "Sure." The detective had ended the call but she just stood there with her hair dripping down her back. "There were no stairs," she murmured. No stairs meant Tremayne had to scale the side of the building or… "He leapt," she voiced out loud. Leapt three stories high like an Otherworldly creature. "No." She shook her head, but she'd had her doubts in the beginning.

  He only met her in the evenings.

  "Because he worked…undercover at the pub," she murmured and remembered when he met her before the sun had fully set. "He wore a hoodie."

  At the apartment tonight, Tremayne had pulled her back to safety before she'd made a fatal mistake in pursuing Lorelei. Not because the flooring was falling away… "Because he knew there hadn't been any stairs," she said and pursed her lips.

  She shivered but not from being cold, but from what she suspected. "What creature are you, Mr. Green?" Was that even his true name? He wanted to be called Tremayne. Then another thought crossed her mind. What if Tremayne had taken on Mr. Green's identity? And if so what happened to the real Mr. Green?

  All good questions and she had every intention of finding out the answers.

  She reached for the hair dryer attached to the wall. She blasted her wet strands, but all the while her mind kept coming up with scenarios about Tremayne and she didn't like any of them.

  Sleep no longer an option, she chose to dress in a clean pair of jeans and a sweater. She grabbed her cell phone as it rang. It was her brother Derek. "What's up? I'm just on my way out."

  "We had a hunters' meeting last night at the lodge. I have some interesting info on Gerard Green."

  This halted her steps. "Yeah?"

  "His sister has been trying to reach him. Says he hasn't called in a while, nor has he answered her texts. Has he been too busy to pick up the phone?" He let the question hang there with meaning.

  She debated on revealing her suspicions. If she did, she knew Derek or one of her other brothers would be on the next flight out. "I'm sure I don't know what you're hinting at. We've been working a case. I'll let Trem…Gerard know about his sister's concern."

  Derek chuckled. "You do that. I guess I was wrong about him. If he has family that's worried about him, he can't be all that bad. By the way, how goes the case?"

  "The Lamia is sea foam. The vamp will soon be with the GOJ. It's all good. Just a few more loose ends to take care of, that's all."

  Derek sighed. "I usually like to take care of the vamps quick and clean. GOJ might want to rehabilitate the vamp."

  She grabbed her jean jacket draped over the chair and slipped it on. "I doubt it. The vamp was a serial killer."

  "They're all killers," Derek said.

  "Maybe, but this one took it to the next level and kept trophies of his kills. I'm pretty sure he didn't pick his victims to feed upon. He enjoyed killing them."

  "Sick bastard. Stake and dust is too good for him."

  "I'd say." She picked up her keys on the table.

  "When are you heading home," Derek asked. "Or should I ask?" She heard the humor behind his words. He believed she had a thing going with Tremayne, and she didn't correct him.

  "I won't be much longer. Just want to enjoy the Hamptons. It's not everyday I have the opportunity to vacation."

  "Don't I know it? I'll see you at Christmas, right?"

  That was in a few weeks. "Sure." She should be able to wrap up things by then – no matter what that may entail.

  Chapter Twenty

  A knock at the pub's front door made Tremayne frown. The place had been closed for over an hour, long after he ushered the last patrons out the door. Only a sparse crew remained to clean up and ready the pub to reopen at eleven today for the lunch crowd. "We're closed," he shouted.

  "Tremayne, it's Cassandra." Her voice was warm and seductive or maybe that was simply wishful thinking on his part. Georgina then Morris poked their head in from the back room to peer at him with curiosity. "Don't you have dishes to put away," he grumbled.

  Morris laughed. "Sure thing, Boss."

  Georgina suppressed a giggle behind her hand before disappearing into the kitchen once more.

  He strode over to the door and opened it. Her
green eyes met his. She'd showered and changed, and even though her cheek appeared bruised from her fight earlier, it didn't take away from her stark beauty.

  "Are you going to invite me in?" she asked and her lips curved.

  For a moment he wondered at her choice of words, but then he stepped aside and she strode in and waited for him to close the door and lock it once more.

  "I thought you'd be in bed," he said and questioned why he'd chosen those words, especially since she turned and stared at him with a quizzical gaze. "You had a tough evening," he added and cleared his throat. "Thought you were tired." She said she'd be by later today after she slept a few hours or more. She couldn't have managed any shuteye if she was standing here in his pub with her hair slightly damp from a recent shower. So why exactly was she here?

  "I could say the same for you," she said, "That you should be tired and in bed, but here you are…" She let the sentence hang between them.

  The clanking of dishes from the kitchen had Cassandra going for one of her concealed weapons.

  "Whoa." He lifted his hands. "It's only my employees. I run a business here. Remember? We're cleaning up."

  She lowered her hand. "Sorry. Still a little jumpy."

  "I can see that. Are you interested in a drink?" He pointed with a jab of his thumb toward the bar.

  "Sure. Lead the way."

  He headed toward the bar and she followed, no doubt still fingering her weapon. He had the distinct feeling of being stalked, and it wasn't often that he was the prey. Kind of turned him on. Yep, no one ever told him he was smart when it came to choosing his women, and he didn't see the point in changing now.

  "I enjoy a good ale," she said casually, but there was nothing casual about this hunter. He could hear her heart beating loud and clear, a bit faster than normal. She was on edge and he didn't believe for a moment it had anything to do with what went down earlier. Something was wrong.

  He reached for a bottle and poured the ale into a glass before sliding it toward her. She took her seat at the bar.

  He then poured himself a glass.

  "To a job well done," she toasted and lifted her glass to clink with his before indulging.

  "Are you heading back home today?" he asked as he took a sip of his drink.

  "Thought I'd hang around until the end of the week," she said. "Make sure the GOJ finds Gunthorn, and take in the sights."

  He lifted a brow. "Oh?"

  "I'm in no rush to go home." She leaned her elbow on the counter and rested her chin on her palm. "So what do you do for fun, Tremayne Greer?" Cassandra asked. "Do you still want me to call you Tremayne or should we go back to your real name… Gerard Green?" She drew out the name.

  Again, he had a distinct inkling something wasn't quite right. Did she suspect he wasn't Gerard Green? What had changed since taking down the Lamia and her going back to the hotel to wash up? "I'm still undercover as long as I reside here," he told her. He in no way wanted to be called by the dead hunter's name.

  "Are you here permanently then?" she asked and took another sip of her drink.

  "Until they say otherwise, I suppose. You know… someone's has to keep the preternatural world in check in the Hamptons, aye?"

  "Right. You've put down roots here, made friends… Do you have a…"

  "…girlfriend," he finished for her, believing this is where her line of questioning was heading.

  "I was going to say: Do you have any family? Pets? But by all means, do tell. Do you have a girlfriend?" She batted her long lashes, making him chuckle.

  "Family…it's a long story. I have a dog though."

  "You do?" Her voice hitched and her eyebrows furrowed as if she couldn't believe he told the truth.

  "Well, don't act so surprised."

  She sat back on the stool. "So tell me about this mutt."

  "Shakespeare is his name. I rescued him from the pound a few years ago." He went on to tell her about his faithful hound and he found himself relaxing. She wanted to know more about him. Perhaps this was what he had sensed different about her. She was flirting with him, and he found himself flirting right back.

  "So…? Do you?" she asked.

  He frowned, not sure where her train of thought had landed now.

  "You never did say if you had a girlfriend or not."

  He leaned on the counter. "That would be no." This won him a radiant smile that shot straight to his heart.

  "Well then, as I recall, you promised me a date after we took care of business."

  "I did." He'd wondered if she'd call him on it. Hope she wouldn't and at the same time prayed she did.

  "Do you know how to show a girl a good time or what?"

  He cleared his throat. "That Miss Hayes is a loaded question. Are you sure you want me to answer it?"

  "Only if you're up to it," she added with a sweet twitch of her lips, but he was in no way fooled.

  Yep, he'd been right after all. He was being hunted, but in a more seductive way. As much as he'd like to be Cassandra Hayes' prey, he really should back down. The case was over. She needed to go back to her hunter family, and he had to stop pretending to belong to her world.

  He opened his mouth to say…something…but she had stood and leaned forward, gripping his T-shirt as she drew him near. All coherent words fled his mind as the temptress planted her lips on his.

  What could he do? He kissed her back. She tasted of ale and sweet temptation all rolled into one. When she came up for air those lushes lips curved ever so slightly.

  Her index finger slid over his lips as she said, "I want to see him."

  His eyes riveted to hers. "Huh? What?"

  "Your doggy won't eat me, will he?" she teased.

  He laughed as he realized she wanted to see his dog. Not exactly the words he hoped for.

  "Shakespeare won't bite, but I might. Are you willing to take the chance?" he teased.

  She shrugged her shoulders as she sat back down on the stool. "I'm willing. Besides I bite back."

  Man the woman drove him to distraction.

  He took a well-needed step away from her just so he could focus on the dangerous game they were playing.

  His gaze slid over her with lust, but she didn't shy away as he met her eyes. "Sure," he said. "Why not? Shakespeare loves the ladies." He grabbed his keys sitting by the cash register then remembered the sun was probably rearing its glorious head by now, and ready to fry him the moment he stepped outside. This was why he'd come back to the pub instead of going home. It had been closer than trying to make a run to his house. He planned on waiting out the day in the pub where the light didn't reach.

  "Is something wrong?" she asked innocently. He had a hunch it was an act, some ploy to see if he'd head outside with her. Just what did she suspect? He'd been foolish to believe she wanted him as in wanted to take him to bed. Oh, she was attracted to him. He'd seen her looks, the way her eyes dilated when he kissed her, but right now, she was testing him.

  "Wait here," he told her and lifted his index finger. "I'll just be a moment." He didn't wait for her to respond, but turned on his heels and headed to his office and shut the door. He threw open the top drawer of his desk and grabbed the vial Sheerin had given him. Thank the heavens he hadn't lost it when he dove into the marina. He gripped the vial. The liquid would allow him to walk in the sun. God he hoped it really worked or this would be a short courtship.

  He removed the stopper and drank it all in one gulp. He stood there waiting for something miraculous to happen. Some kind of sensation would have sufficed too, but he felt nothing out of the ordinary. He stared at the vial and wondered if Sheerin had given him a bad batch.

  "Are you coming?"

  He turned at the sound of Cassandra's voice. She'd opened the door and peeked in. He hid the vial behind his back and nonchalantly dropped it into the desk drawer before sliding it closed. "Yep. Just wanted to grab my coat," he added as his gaze caught sight of the leather jacket he had hanging on the coat rack. He strode over to it and re
trieved the item in question. "Let's go," he said as he slipped it on. He then grabbed the scarf and hat. The more skin he covered the better.

  "One more sec," he told Cassandra and headed for the kitchen to peek his head in. "I'm heading out." Georgina gave him two thumbs up, but Morris raised his brows as his gaze shifted toward the small window above the sink where the light of day peeked through.

  "Are you sure about this, Boss?" Morris asked. "Heard it was going to be a sunny day."

  Tremayne rolled his eyes and hoped he appeared more confident than he felt. "Don't forget to lock up."

  Morris appeared like he wanted to say more, but then he nodded. "Sure thing, Boss," Morris said.

  Tremayne let the swinging door shut behind him, but it didn't stifle Georgina's comment. "Who do you think the woman is?"

  "I don't know," Morris answered, "but she's a looker."

  "It's about time our Boss had himself a date," Georgina added.

  Truly, had it been that long?

  "Now I'm ready," he told Cassandra, who stood there waiting for him. "After you, milady." He waved his hand in front of him.

  "Milady, is it?" She chuckled and shook her head.

  Why had he addressed her in such a fashion? "I figured ma'am would get me a swift kick in the you know what."

  She laughed again. "You know me so well."

  Not yet, he thought, but against his better judgment, he'd like to. He opened the door for her and she stepped over the threshold, the morning sun shining bright on her face and making her hair glimmer with dark reddish hues.

  Here goes nothing, he said to himself with a heavy sigh and followed her. He turned away to lock the pub's door...or duck inside if the sun's rays decided to scorch his Irish vampire hide. As seconds ticked by and there was no sizzling, no smell of burnt flesh… By the heavens, Sheerin had really come through. The sun beating down on his hand didn't burn.

  "Tremayne?" Cassandra asked with concern.

  He locked the door and slipped the key into his pocket before turning around to face her with a full on smile. "I'm ready. Do you want to ride with me or do you want to follow in your own vehicle?"