Claire thought about that, still shaking her head. Then she frowned again. “And with all that money, why did you buy a brand-new pair of oh-so-expensive lingerie?” She didn’t bother hiding her suggestive grin as she folded her arms.
I scowled, pointedly punching Haven’s contact icon on my phone and lifting it to my ear. She shook her head, plopping down on the couch as she pulled her own phone out.
Haven picked up on the second ring. “Hello,” he said in a formal tone, even though he knew it was me from his caller ID. He wasn’t alone, then.
“Hello,” I said just as formally. “I had a few things to talk to you about if you’ve got a minute.”
There was a muffled conversation in the background and then I heard him lift the phone back to his ear. “You have my undivided attention, Miss Penrose.”
I caught him up to speed, then told him that he could probably expect news of a rogue vampire getting jumped in town. I didn’t offer the specific details, leaving it to his imagination. I hoped my delay in telling him wouldn’t cause future problems between us. Or between Haven and Roland, since he would be returning from Italy soon.
There was a long silence as if he was waiting to be sure I was finished. Or he was gearing up to threaten my life.
Then I heard a slow, dry chuckle, and instantly felt my body relax. I hadn’t wanted to add a pissed off Master Vampire to my plate. Maybe it was a sign that things were turning around. “I heard about that already. He will no longer wander the streets without a chaperone. He had the sudden inclination that he needs a family for protection. So, he’s undergoing our… new-hire program.”
I tried not to betray my relief. “He was that scared about our little confrontation?” I asked, smiling a little smugly.
Haven was silent for a breath too long. “Your confrontation?”
I frowned. Maybe he did need details. “Yeah. We had a disagreement. He and a few of his pals across supernatural families. Few shifters. Even a Fae…” I said carefully, not wanting to alarm him of the bigger conspiracy I believed was going on in town.
“That detail must have slipped his mind. He seemed more concerned about a gang of men.”
I scratched my chin, mildly ticked off that I hadn’t scared him as much as I thought. “Men. It’s always the men that get the credit. Claire and I whipped the shit out of them while they were breaking into some cars.”
“He just mentioned being jumped, and remembering a few men involved. He wouldn’t say who.” As I thought about it, it kind of made sense. The vampire had been taken out right at the beginning, and probably didn’t recall the details too clearly, and the last thing he had seen was probably the three men jumping over him, before a boot struck him in the head. “Maybe he was just trying to save face? Not wanting to admit that he was really jumped by two women?”
“Yeah. I guess.” Claire was pacing back and forth, muttering angrily under her breath, obviously eavesdropping. “Did he say who these guys were that scared him? He did have pretty bad luck. Maybe he ran into someone else that night…” I said, remembering how scared Faebio had been about the Templars. I needed to know if Haven knew anything about that. A test.
“I don’t know if it’s that important—”
“Haven…” I said in a warning tone.
He let out a breath. “Fine. He said they wear scarves—”
I didn’t hear the rest of what he said, anger suddenly making my ears pop. “The scarf had a red cross on it, right?” I growled over him. Claire had stopped pacing and was staring at me.
“Yes,” Haven said very slowly. “He was babbling about the Templars, but I’m pretty sure he’s just letting his fear of the bogeymen take over. Sees a cross and assumes the worst. They’re in Europe anyway.”
I was shaking my head. “No, Haven. They’re here. I’ve seen them, too. Different place. Ever heard of the Hellfire Club?” I asked, thinking back to the men I had seen chasing the woman. Had they been Templars? But none of them had worn scarves and they hadn’t worn similar clothing to the Templars at the Hellfire Club.
Haven paused hesitantly before speaking. “Perhaps…”
I rolled my eyes. “Relax. I just saved their lives. Half a dozen Templars showed up to harm them – kill or capture, I don’t know. But they’re safe, now.”
“That was you?” he hissed in disbelief. “You saved the Hellfire Club? Where are they? No one can find them, but I’ve fielded half a dozen calls in the last hour about it.”
“They’re safe,” I replied carefully. “Don’t worry about them.”
He grunted in disappointment at me not giving him their location. “Callie Penrose saving the lowest of the low. Isn’t that kind of, I don’t know, out of character for you, church-mouse?” he said in a lighter tone.
“I’m not prejudiced like some of the zealots in town. If a group of Templars want to attack a bunch of Freaks just trying to get their rocks off in an innocent, consensual gangbang, they’re going to find me right in the thick of it.”
Claire gasped and Haven roared with laughter. I flushed deep red, my cheeks heating.
“That’s not what I—” I took a calming breath. “What I meant, was that I’m not going to let them have their way.” Haven laughed even harder, and Claire just stared at me, shaking her head. “Dorian was there,” I said loudly, trying to change the topic. “Apparently, he’s on their Board of Directors.”
Haven chuckled. “The world’s first playboy. Or biggest playboy. The most notorious lecher.”
“A friend,” I said firmly. “The other stuff, too, but he’s a friend. And he did us a solid not too long ago. Wasn’t about to let some asshole Templars take him out. Without his help tonight, the body count would have been a lot higher.”
Haven breathed heavily into the phone. “Callie, the Templars are… like a rumor. A legend. I’ve heard horrifying tales about them… Maybe you should just let them pass through town. Who knows what kind of casualties a war like that would cause. Haven’t we all had enough of that? Maybe they’ll get what they want and leave us the hell alone.”
I shook my head. “We have history.” And by my count, they’d already acquired what they wanted. The Ring of Aandaleeb, also known as the Seal of Solomon. But Haven didn’t need to know about that. He sounded scared enough of them already. “And they’re actively hunting in our city. That’s not okay.”
He sighed his reluctant agreement. “Well, keep me posted. I don’t like having Roland so far from home, but since you’re like his daughter, let me know how I can help.”
I blinked. “That’s… unusually kind of you, Haven. You sure you don’t have a heartbeat?”
He hung up on me.
I set the phone on the table, thinking about the Templars. They had shown up at the Hellfire Club ready to kill a bunch of people in their search for one woman. But were the three men chasing the brown-haired girl from the alley Templars, too? Were they all hunting this brown-haired girl, or were there two women targeted at the Hellfire Club, and two groups of hunters? Maybe those three men were part of this mysterious Chancery – they hadn’t worn scarves while chasing a witch, and that seemed like a stupid action on their part. Templars would have worn their scarves if hunting a witch.
And Templars probably would have turned around to fight us when they saw us pursuing.
I grunted. But I also had a reputation. A reputation that could have convinced them – Templar or otherwise – that they shouldn’t confront me without solid backup.
I sighed wearily. At least the intended victims were now safe in St. Louis.
Which left me with the Templars hunting the Freaks of Kansas City. I needed to set a trap. Templars stood against magic. Basically, a militia of highly trained – but still human – soldiers. I could bait them, and then have Beckett round them up for carrying illegal weapons or something.
Claire interrupted my thoughts. “You should probably get going or you’re going to be late.”
I sighed. “I really don’t
want to do this.”
“Fight Templars? We’ll take care of them. Just like we did earlier—”
I shook my head. “No. See my dad with another woman,” I said in a soft voice.
Claire’s face crumpled into a sympathetic frown. Then she wrapped me up in a hug, careful not to mess up my hair.
“I want him to be happy. I really do,” I said. “But… it’s going to be hard to be nice to her. Hence me bringing a date. Someone to keep me focused.”
“Well, I hope you’re bringing a good conversationalist. Someone nice and sweet and charming who can get their attention away from you. Someone—”
“I’m bringing Cain,” I said, looking up at her.
She stared at me for a few seconds, mouth working, but no words coming out at first. “In the future, you should probably run these things by me first, Callie,” she sighed, running her fingers through her hair in a frustrated sweep.
“I’m sure he’ll be the perfect gentleman. He knows the situation.”
Claire just shook her head. “The world’s first murderer wouldn’t have even entered my maybe list for possible bachelors to take to a family double-date…”
I sighed, nodding. “Better than Dorian, though, right?”
Claire’s smile wasn’t reassuring.
Chapter 29
My dad watched us approach, looking both judgmental of my date and anxious he was about to be judged by me for his date. It was a unique look on the typically confident man.
I smiled, tugging Cain along behind me by the hand as I approached the table. I smiled politely, not really sure if I was supposed to—
My dad jumped to his feet and wrapped me up in a tight hug, his hands rubbing circles on my back. “I’ve missed you, Callie,” he said, and I could tell he was laughing.
“I’ve missed you too, dad.” I squeezed back before stepping away and holding out my hand to reveal Cain like a Vanna White impersonation.
Cain wore a white dress shirt, stylish jeans, and a pair of polished black boots. I could tell they were less fashionable and more practical, but he’d tried to make them look nice.
“This is Cain,” I said. My father studied him critically, not rudely, but in the time-honored tradition of fathers everywhere. You’re on thin ice, the look warned.
“You’ve raised a wonderful woman in Callie, Mr. Penrose,” the world’s first murderer said to my dad. He nodded succinctly, not entirely won over by the compliment, but appreciative.
“And this is Rai,” my dad said, holding out a hand to the woman at the table.
She was a raven-haired, buxom woman around my dad’s age, but to me she looked ripened by her years. She wasn’t overly pretty, didn’t wear overly flashy clothes, and wasn’t caked in a thousand pounds of make-up. She was just… beautifully normal.
She smiled at me with kind eyes, revealing faint wrinkles on her skin, and she wore a hopeful, but slightly hesitant smile on her face. I reached out on a subconscious level, assessing her for magic, and felt Cain stiffen slightly beside me. But she was utterly normal, a Regular. I let out an inward sigh of relief.
“It’s short for Raidia,” she admitted, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t get a vote on my birth name, but I’ve always preferred to go by Rai.” I knew what it was like to shorten a name, and I figured going through childhood as Raidia might have been rough, so I couldn’t blame her. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she said to me, smiling warmly. “You’re all Terry talks about.”
Terry looked suddenly flustered, motioning for us all to sit down.
“Raidia… like Radiant?” I asked.
She grimaced, giving me a weary look. Then lifted her hands as if to say what can you do?
Raidia sighed at something my father had asked Cain. “Seems we’re both guilty until proven innocent, tonight.” She winked at Cain, smiling at him conspiratorially.
Cain chuckled with an easy shrug. “I’m used to it. Gallows humor is like an old friend.”
My smile went slightly stiff, but I quickly relaxed as my dad turned to me with a thoughtful frown. “Cain is a therapist,” I blurted without thinking, immediately wishing I had picked something easier for him to lie about – like a nuclear scientist or chemical engineer.
“Oh?” Rai said interestedly, flashing her brilliant white teeth. “How delightful.” I subconsciously glanced at her purse, checking for the brand. You could tell a lot about a woman by her accessories. Was she a money-grubber? Not necessarily a gold digger, but familiar to a certain lifestyle, moving on from one man to the next, using each victim to get her just a little bit more, but never taking too much from one. The clever kind of black widow. Wrap them up in the excitement of fresh love, bleed them a little, and then move on.
But her purse was a plain black leather bag, no brand name. Just something that could be found in the clearance section of any department store – practical and frugal. She even had a pin in the strap that looked suspiciously like that clown that killed kids in the famous horror movie.
Which made sense. She and my dad had gone to a horror movie convention in Chicago for a long weekend as a pseudo-first date.
I wondered if she was a widow or not. Looking to reclaim a household.
Then I realized that instead of simply talking to her, I was trying to find something to pin on her, a reason she might be dirty. Which wasn’t a healthy outlook on life. With an effort, I smiled at my dad and turned to listen to her talking to Cain – who was doing surprisingly well for himself. As if he were a normal, plain-Joe Regular, and not the son of Adam and Eve.
Nor the hated Biblical icon who had murdered his brother, Abel.
“Do you have any family?” Rai asked him after taking a sip of her water.
Cain coughed, spluttering his own water – which I hadn’t realized had been sitting before us already. My dad must have ordered them ahead.
Cain wiped up the water with his napkin, face slightly flushed. “Sorry, wrong pipe…”
Rai nodded sadly, reading a deeper meaning into his reaction, and I began to hear alarm bells in my mind. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a sensitive subject, and you’re probably not used to people asking you questions,” she said, laughing lightly. “I have a jerk for a brother, myself. I know how annoying they can be.” She leaned forward with a playful smile. “Sometimes I could just strangle him!”
Cain nodded woodenly, his lips pale. “Sure. Brothers can be a handful. It’s entirely normal to want to kill them sometimes…” He shot me a veiled look. “And I’m a therapist, so…”
I tried not to wince. “Yes. Cain would know.” Sweet Baby Jesus. Where was the waiter? I opened my mouth to ask, shooting a sharp look at my dad, but he was obviously enjoying Rai’s innocent interrogation of my date, and would be of no use to me.
“What about your mom?” Rai asked instead. “What does she do?” My dad wrapped his arm behind her chair, and I saw the pleased inner smile in her eyes at the gesture of reassurance.
Cain grew visibly uncomfortable, unconsciously twisting his napkin into a ball. “She… likes apples,” he managed, as if latching onto the first thing that came to mind.
I wanted to suddenly end this date or find a way to turn the tables back on her. She was also under the threat of judgment. Callie’s guillotine.
“She… likes apples?” my dad asked, frowning. “Is she a gardener?” They were both frowning, now.
“You could say that,” Cain said in a low tone, failing to make his smile look anything but uncomfortable.
He needed a Knightess in shining armor to save him. I cleared my throat. “Orchards. His mom owns an apple orchard.”
Their unease vanished, and they nodded at the simple answer. I almost let out a sigh of relief.
“And your dad—”
A perky, pink and blue haired waitress breasted boobily up to our table. I say it that way because her chest seemed to lead the charge everywhere she went, like a marching band heralding her arrival. I could tell she’d
been a waitress for twenty years, and genuinely loved it. And if she used those assets to get better tips, I couldn’t blame her.
“Evenin’,” she said, flashing us with a dazzling smile, displaying a set of suspenders covered in buttons that only seemed to frame her chest like an art exhibit. At this point, I would have welcomed a streaker. “What can I get ya tonight?” she asked in a southern drawl, as sweet and thick as molasses.
Cain looked remarkably relieved at her arrival, taking a long sip of his drink as my dad and Rai began talking to each other as he held the menu, debating options. Cain shot me a desperate look behind his menu as he pretended to read it.
I grinned, squeezing his thigh with my hand. “You’re doing great,” I said, leaning closer and pretending to read the menu alongside him.
“Oh, don’t be so old-fashioned, Terry. Go ahead and order first,” Rai said with a light elbow to his ribs and a lilting laugh.
Terry sighed in defeat, rubbing his ribs to try and get sympathy. “On that note, I think I’ll take the ribs. Pretty sure this delicate flower just took one of mine,” my dad finally said.
The menu in Cain’s hands stiffened as his fingers clenched. My eyes widened in disbelief as I made sure Cain wasn’t about to run screaming. Was there no end to the irony of Biblical references? Maybe I should have asked Dorian to accompany me instead.
“Mmmm. That sounds delicious!” Rai grinned. “I actually may just steal one of yours for that. Would serve you right,” she teased, turning to Cain. “And I’ll have the apple and bacon salad, in tribute to your mother’s orchard.”
Cain gave her a painfully slow nod, attempting gratitude, but looking more like he had felt the first gurgle of an irritable bowel syndrome episode.
“Great choice, honey,” the waitress grinned. “And you?” she asked, turning to me.
“The cake. I’ll just have a slice of cake. Cain and I can’t stay long,” I said, picking the last thing I had glanced at. Christ, could this get any worse?
“Would that be the Original Sin Chocolate Delight?” the waitress asked me in an almost bedroom appropriate purr.
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