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Desert Flame

Page 10

by Nicole R. Taylor


  He couldn’t help it. He swallowed and his stomach rolled, but the man grinned triumphantly, letting him go.

  “What have you given me?” Hardy managed to ask through ragged gasps.

  “Blood,” the man replied. “It takes some getting used to, I’m afraid, but tell me…do you feel better?”

  Hardy wiped his sticky face and hesitated. His back… It didn’t hurt anymore. He sat up and grasped at the bandages.

  “Oh no, don’t take them off just yet. We’ll need those for a little while longer. Just until that charming overseer comes back to fetch you.”

  Hardy didn’t understand what was happening to him. “Who are you?”

  “Me?” The man smiled, his lips pulling back to reveal a row of pointed teeth, with two elongated fangs. “I am Darius.”

  Hardy didn’t have time to recoil as the man struck. The last sound he heard was the snap of his neck breaking.

  Chapter 11

  The pub was silent that night—a rather odd thing considering Blue always blasted his Aussie pub rock mixed CDs.

  The Exiles sat around their usual table, but in place of their usual rowdy conversations was a hell of a lot of nothing. No one spoke. He reckoned not one of them knew what to say after the day they’d had.

  Maybe Eloise had tapped into something a little more prophetic when she asked to come back to town. She was worried about Hardy, but their timing had been impeccable to the minute. It felt a little creepy, if he was being honest. Her dreams, even her arrival, were starting to become bigger than all of Solace’s supernatural powers combined.

  He glanced at her, hoping the potion Vera had given her had helped calm her hyped-up powers.

  Kyne sighed and rubbed his eyes. He’d rather be out at his claim going after that black opal.

  Finn lounged beside him, playing with a single blue dreadlock. “I think I’m going to get a new snake,” he stated, breaking the heavy silence. “I think I’m ready.” Everyone turned to glare at him, and he screwed up his nose. “What? You don’t think I can handle it?”

  “If you want a snake, then go charm yourself one,” Drew told him. “We don’t care.”

  “Drew,” Vera scolded.

  “Just trying to make some conversation,” the fae drawled. “You lot look like you’ve just been to a funeral. Look around.” He spread his arms wide. “We aren’t dead yet… Oh, wait.”

  “Speaking of…” Vera said. “Where is Hardy?”

  “I don’t think he’s coming,” Blue murmured, looking at the beaten-up black digital watch around his wrist. “Hardy’s never late.”

  “Do you think something happened to him?” Eloise asked. “He did go out to spy on EarthBore.”

  “Nah.” Drew shook his head. “Coen has been watching the land to the north. If something was up with Hardy, he would’ve seen it.”

  Kyne’s gaze dropped to the book sitting on the table in front of the shifter. It was a hefty tome on mineral exploration and the spine had been cracked in several places. Either Drew had gotten it secondhand, or he’d read that thing cover to cover.

  “What?” the shifter asked. “Ain’t seen a dog with a book before?”

  “No need to get testy,” Kyne fired back. “I’m impressed. Learn anything?”

  Drew faltered for a second, then replied, “I know what auriferous means.”

  “Congratulations!” Finn clapped, drawing more glares for his efforts.

  “Stop antagonising each other,” Kyne warned. “We’ve got enough going on without you two reigniting old feuds.”

  Finn snorted and picked up his wine glass. Drew said nothing, he just leaned back in his chair and nursed his beer.

  “Where is EarthBore?” Vera wondered. “They haven’t come into town, only driven through. They have to be somewhere.”

  Kyne frowned. She was right. Wherever they were staying, it wasn’t in Solace.

  “They’re probably camping out there,” Wally said. “Crazy buggers.”

  “No one in their right mind would camp in this weather,” Blue told him. “It hit forty today and won’t dip below thirty tonight.”

  Eloise squirmed beside Kyne. She’d been uncharacteristically silent, even for her.

  “What?” he asked, sliding his hand onto her leg.

  “That 4WD…” she murmured. “I know who was in it…and so did Hardy.”

  Silence fell in the pub as all eyes turned to Eloise.

  “Who was it, then?” Finn drawled. “Don’t leave us in suspense.”

  “It was cold,” Eloise began with a shiver, “like death. Then, when I went into the workshop and saw Hardy… I, uh…I felt the same thing.”

  “A vampire?” Blue jerked upright. “Working with EarthBore?”

  Vera pursed her lips and glanced at Drew.

  “Do you think…?” the dingo asked.

  “Think what?” Kyne butted in.

  “That guy,” the witch replied. “The one who bought the party poppers.”

  “You think he has something to do with them?” Wally asked.

  “He did buy a hi-vis vest,” Drew said with a shrug. “Maybe he was the scouting party.”

  Kyne screwed up his face. “Big mining doesn’t have scouting parties. This isn’t a hunt. An army isn’t on the march.”

  The dingo narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t they?”

  The elemental sighed, wondering what exactly Coen had been teaching the shifter out there. They’d been going into the outback together a lot lately.

  “Hardy can look after himself,” Kyne said. “We can’t wait for him.”

  “And what are we supposed to do, fearless leader?” Finn asked, swirling red wine around in his glass.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “Well, that’s helpful,” the fae stated.

  “At least he’s got the balls to admit it,” Vera snapped. “I don’t see you coming up with any ideas.”

  “That’s because he’s always day-drunk,” Drew said.

  “Shut your face! You have no idea what I went through in that tank!” Finn cried.

  “Of course, we do,” the shifter retorted. “You haven’t stopped moaning about it since Eloise dragged you out.”

  “Stop it!” Eloise shouted, jerking to her feet. “Just…stop it.” She balled her hands into tight fists. “Arguing won’t help any of us. Something’s happening with Hardy and he needs our help. He can’t always handle himself…none of us can.” Her glare intensified. “We’re a family. A dysfunctional one, but that’s what we are. Family.”

  Vera coughed and lifted her hand, her silver rings clacking together. “If Hardy’s not back by morning, I can cast a locator spell.”

  Eloise blinked, the tension easing in her shoulders. “You can do that?”

  “Yeah. It’s been a while, but I can give it a go.”

  “I’ll go check his dugout,” Kyne said. “But we should give him some time to come back on his own.”

  “Maybe he just wants to be alone,” Finn declared, his nonchalant tone raising Kyne’s ire. “Did you ever stop to think that? No everyone needs therapy, especially the kind that’s forced on them.”

  “Finn,” Kyne warned. “If you know something, now’s the time to spit it out.”

  The fae rolled his eyes. “And why would I do that?”

  “Finn, please,” Eloise murmured, sitting back down.

  He sighed. “I know he’s going through something, desert pea, but he’s a musty, old undead man. He’s been around the bush a couple more times than all of you combined, and he won’t talk until he’s ready. The sooner you get it through your pretty little skull, the sooner we can all focus on the real villain here.”

  “And who’s that?” Drew prodded.

  The fae grinned and held up his glass. “Blue, because I’m out of wine.”

  The publican sighed and got up to get another bottle.

  “EarthBore,” Kyne said, slouching. “They can’t dig or the vibrations will crack open the seal or worse.�
��

  “Sounds like doomsday to me,” Finn said. “I reckon it calls for more wine, don’t you?”

  A lone dingo padded along a remote ridge in the lonely desert north of Solace, the stars guiding his meandering path northwards.

  Drew sniffed, studying the currents in the air and all the scents that came with them. Warm eucalyptus and earthy baked dirt that hadn’t been disturbed in a long time. Wild, untouched land that was now being eyed by EarthBore.

  He followed his nose and focused his eyes, the night welcoming him as he passed through the outback.

  Drew’s sight changed while he was in his dingo state and the world opened up in more ways than were obvious. Thanks to Coen and his bizarre way of teaching, his eyes were opening to his true abilities as a shapeshifter. Changing his shape was only the beginning of what he was capable of, and the Indigenous man was determined to guide him towards the path he should have been walking from birth—from before his pack was massacred by the Dust Dogs.

  Drew snorted, his nostrils flaring. Sometimes it still angered him, knowing what could have been if only… He couldn’t change it now, but at least he had someone to learn from.

  Ahead, the night sky blurred with the glow of floodlights. The dig site lay hidden beyond the rise, so he approached, setting his feet as lightly as he could manage.

  Drew wasn’t sure what he would find, let alone what he was looking for, so he moved carefully, using all his senses to lay out the path before him.

  He thought about what Eloise said at the pub earlier. Cold death, the same she felt when she looked at Hardy. Vampire.

  Through Coen’s teaching, he’d managed to work out the difference between the supernaturals living in Solace. The coldness of Hardy, the warmth of Kyne, the metallic tang of Wally’s werewolf curse, and Eloise’s… Well, she felt like the sun, which was just another star in one of the great arms of the Milky Way. He could see why Coen liked her; he was always prattling on about the stars.

  And then there was Vera, who was just as precious to him. Her magic reminded him of static electricity—all prickly and volatile like her personality—but after she’d severed her contact with the Nightshade, he felt what he suspected was the manifestation of the raging ocean in her. Whatever magic she wielded, Vera Walsh would always be a little wild.

  Drew’s inner human sighed. Wherever their future took them with the seal, he knew her magic would be needed. Apparently, they lived on top of the heart of the ocean itself.

  Finally, he topped the rise and looked down on the scene below.

  The EarthBore workers had set up a camp consisting of three massive khaki canvas tents pitched in a horseshoe formation. Floodlights burned impossibly bright, shining white light on the clearing and machinery, which was still positioned around the hole they’d been digging with the Caldweld drill. A campfire sat in the middle of the tents, and he saw several men sitting around it, drinking and laughing.

  It wasn’t the full industrial set up Drew had been picturing, but they seemed keen to break ground. He’d learned a bit from the books he’d been reading, and from Kyne’s prattling at the pub, and nothing he saw looked like they were core sampling.

  What were they doing, then?

  He kept to the trees, even though he knew they couldn’t see much beyond the ring of artificial light. If something supernatural was down there, there was a chance he could be spotted, not just by sight, but by scent, too.

  The men around the campfire were human, their presence bland compared to the Exiles. They reminded him of the way Blue looked through his dingo eyes, though the publican’s spirit had taken on a little of the company he kept without him knowing. It was a roundabout way of saying their magic had rubbed off on the bloke.

  As Drew studied at the workers, he saw a little of the same taint, but it wasn’t the rich earthy warmth he saw in his friend. It was something else and it didn’t feel friendly to him.

  Suddenly, he wished Coen was here to help explain it.

  The flap on the centre tent flung open and the movement drew his gaze away from the workers. His hackles rose as he watched a newcomer emerge and stride across the clearing towards the fire.

  Narrowing his eyes, Drew sunk back into the cover of the tree, a clump of spinifex grass pricking his backside.

  Eloise was right. There was a vampire down there…and it wasn’t Hardy. Wherever the opal buyer had gone to, it wasn’t here. Probably a good thing.

  Strangely, the man below didn’t look anything like Hardy did through his dingo eyes. This bloke carried a power that’d stained his soul blacker than the finality of death itself.

  He was the beginning, but he wasn’t the first.

  The strange thought bounced around in Drew’s mind, and he shook his head as his ears buzzed. The hell… The only thing he understood about what he was seeing, was that there was a vampire working with EarthBore and that meant trouble for the seal.

  Coen had asked him to watch, so that’s what he was going to do.

  Drew nestled into place along the ridge and peered down at the camp. It was going to be a long night.

  The next morning, Eloise hurried down the hill with Kyne hot on her heels.

  “Slow down,” Kyne complained. “You’ll trip and break your arm if you’re not careful.”

  “I won’t,” she called over her shoulder.

  When the miner had gone over to Hardy’s dugout after dinner, his door had gone unanswered, and now Eloise was one big knot of worry.

  “You will, and the nearest hospital is hundreds of kilometres away.” He failed to mention that vampire blood could heal broken bones, but it would only wound her up more.

  “You go see Vera,” she said, ignoring him. “I’ll check the workshop.”

  “I’m starting to get jealous.”

  Eloise turned and pressed her hand to his chest. “Oh, don’t pout. It doesn’t suit you.”

  Kyne smirked and planted a kiss on her lips. “Go on.” He nodded towards the opal shop. “I’ll be at Vera’s.”

  “Thanks.”

  Eloise jogged across the road and fished her key out of her pocket. She hoped she’d see Hardy sitting at his bench as he always did, sorting through a Ziplock bag of rough opal, and all this worry would have been for nothing.

  Darting into the shade, she shoved the key into the workshop lock and jiggled the handle. Her overtaxed power was just playing tricks, right?

  Wrenching open the door, relief washed over her as she saw the vampire sitting right where she hoped he’d be…but he wasn’t working on his usual bag of opal.

  At her abrupt appearance, he’d looked up from the pile of paperwork on the bench. “Now that’s an entrance.” It was a lame joke and one that she didn’t appreciate.

  “Bloody hell,” Eloise said, slamming the door behind her. “Where have you been?”

  “Not far,” he told her, his brow creasing. “You were that worried about me?”

  “Kyne went to see Vera about a locator spell,” she told him with a roll of her eyes. “I better let her know not to worry.”

  “Leave it,” he replied. “She needs the practice. I have a feeling her magic is going to be useful before long.”

  “Why?”

  The vampire said nothing for a moment. He picked up a stack of papers from the bench in front him and paused, his brow furrowed. “Eloise… I need to ask you a favour, but you have to promise that you won’t ask questions.”

  Her uneasiness grew. “What kind of favour…?”

  “Nothing bad,” he reassured. “I just need your signature on something.”

  Eloise curled her nose. Signatures could get people into a whole lot of trouble, so to her, it wasn’t just a little thing. Legally binding contracts could be more deadly than a knife in the dark.

  “A signature for what?”

  “These are papers for the shop,” Hardy explained. “They say I sold it to you for the sum of one dollar. I had them drawn up after all that business with Vera and the Nightshad
e. All you have to do is sign and the deed will be in your name.”

  “Why?” She stared at the papers and the little yellow tags that showed where she was supposed to sign her life away.

  He thrust the contracts at her. “You promised.”

  She took them and shook her head. “Hardy… I… What could you possibly get out of this?”

  He held out a pen and clicked the end. “Please.”

  There was a moment where a sharp ball of turmoil bounced around in her chest, but the look in his eyes forced her to crumble.

  Eloise plucked the pen from his fingers. “Okay…but know I’m not entirely convinced.”

  Hardy nodded and nudged the papers.

  Eloise bent over the desk and signed on the line where the first yellow tab pointed. Flipping the page, she found the second. The pen scratched over the paper and her worry grew. She’d get a stomach ulcer if she wasn’t careful. Honestly, she probably already had one.

  “That’s the last one,” she said, clicking the pen and folding the papers back over.

  “Invite me in,” Hardy said, grimacing.

  Her gaze rose and her breath caught. He looked like he was in pain—the frozen kind of rigidness people got when they were trying to hold themselves together.

  “Hardy.” She jerked to her feet and the pen fell to the floor.

  “Eloise, invite me in.”

  “Uh… Come in?”

  He visibly relaxed and drew in a deep breath. There was even a thin sheen of sweat across his brow. Whatever had just happened to him, it’d been bad.

  “What in the bloody hell was that?”

  “I hoped it would work,” he murmured. “You’re still mostly human, despite your elemental powers.”

  Eloise scowled. “Uh, thanks?”

  “Vampires can’t enter a dwelling occupied by a human,” he explained. “They have to be invited, otherwise they cannot cross the threshold.”

  “That’s crazy. Why?”

  Hardy shrugged. “It’s probably something to do with how the first vampires were created. I don’t really know.”

  Eloise looked down at the contract. “And a little signature did all that?”

 

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