Fangs for Nothing

by Laura Greenwood

  My fiancé ran his hand through his hair. “I had some business to attend to.”

  “Ahh, I see.”

  “Woah, time out,” I interjected, making the gesture. “You two know each other?”

  “Yes, we play golf together,” William replied.

  I turned to Watson. “You golf?”

  He flexed his biceps as he took a typical pitching position. “Just on the weekends.”

  I frowned. “Why? You hate golf.”

  “I’ve developed a taste for it.”

  William let out a deep chuckle. “He’s rather good at it too.”

  Annoyance coursed through me as I glared at my fiancé. “Hold up. Why did you never tell me you golf with Watson?”

  The man pulled a guilty face. “I thought it would make you uncomfortable. And it’s not a big deal.”

  “It wouldn’t have been… If you didn’t just make a big stink about me seeing guys behind your back. What would you call this?” I gestured to the two of them. They seemed thick as thieves, which was something I’d never have expected. Growing up, Watson always hated William and everything he stood for.

  “Wait, you’re seeing guys behind Will’s back?” Watt pulled a face, but I couldn’t figure out it he was hurt or just amused.

  “No, I’m not,” I corrected. “But apparently, William is seeing my childhood friend behind my back.”

  “I think I was a bit more than just a childhood ‘friend’,” the cheeky devil said, waggling his eyebrows as he suggested there had been more between us than an innocent kiss when we were six.

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  William tapped his chin. “From what I heard, I’d say he was.”

  My eyes widened at his response. “Really? You’re—You’re going to agree with him? Over me? Wooow… Okay, well, this clearly has nothing to do with me. I’m just going to step away so you two can enjoy your bromance.” I pulled the curtain open, ready to get back to mingling.

  “Wait!” the two shouted. They each grabbed an arm and pulled me back in the alcove.

  Chapter 13

  “What?” I huffed, glaring at the two faces hovering above me. How were those two friends when they were nothing alike? William grew up as a privileged and sheltered boy to one of the most powerful noble families. Watson was as common as it got. Where my fiancé was polished and brushed, my childhood friend was scruffy and rough around the edges.

  I wasn’t sure what William looked like without a suit and he wore them with such confidence, I could be convinced suits were invented just for him. Even if Watt looked handsome in his, the suit was wearing him.

  Light and dark, night and day. The two couldn’t be more different, and yet, they held the same mischievous twinkle in their eyes. Their lips were curled up in a similar smirk, one that told me they were up to no good.

  “What?” I sighed, admiring how they were each handsome in their own way. My childhood was laced with Watt’s green eyes. My adult life entwined with William’s soft and melodic voice.

  “You’re not mad at us, right?” William asked, his features softening as he captured me in his gaze.

  My previous annoyance melted away as I pressed myself into him. His embrace was comforting, his touch welcoming. He was my rock in the ocean, my safety in the sea. I could never stay mad at him for too long.

  “I’m not mad at you,” I whispered, reaching up to touch his face.

  “Good,” he breathed.

  “Good!” Watson chirped, a beat too high.

  “I am mad at you,” I pointed out, furrowing my brows to glare at him.

  “What? Why? What did I do?”

  I pressed myself harder into William, finding strength in his presence. “You meddled in my PI affairs.”

  My fiancé’s chuckle rumbled through his chest and vibrated my head that rested against it. “Oh, dear,” he said. “Never meddle in Lucinda’s business, Watson.”

  My childhood friend held up his hands. “Fine. But as I recall, you used to like working together. Remember our Holmes adventures when we were young? The mystery of the missing scarf? The forbidden house? The ghost of the porch?”

  I bit my lip as the memories washed over me. Even if it was a long time ago, they were crystal clear. The ridiculous hats we wore, the array of sticks and brushes that served as our utensils, and the laughter. There wasn’t a memory without Watt’s snickering and my own giggling.

  Everything was perfect, until Grandmother skipped Mother as her successor and made me her heir. Then everything changed. Gone were the days of playing outside on the streets or staying up late to look at the stars. It wasn’t proper and that was all Mother cared about.

  After some time, he stopped coming by and I stopped rebelling. And now, more than a hundred years later, things were different.

  “I don’t recall,” I lied, pushing the old memories away. That was then and this was now.

  “Sure, you do.”

  I twisted in William’s arms and burrowed my face into his suit. “No, I don’t.”

  “Liar, liar, veins on fire,” Watt sang. “You had a journal where you noted down our findings and a cigar made out of clay. You carried it around everywhere, it drove your mother crazy.”

  My fiancé chuckled. “You had a cigar?”

  “No, I didn’t,” I argued, my cheeks heating up. “It was a pipe.”

  “Aha! So you do remember!” Watson exclaimed.

  I had no idea what the right way to respond to Watson was. I thought about our past a lot. Maybe not him per say, but the fun we had. It was his fault I'd become a private investigator. Not that I was going to tell him that. I could almost see the smug expression on his face if I did. He'd be even more insufferable than he was the rest of the time. Something I really wasn't ready for.

  "Detective Lucinda Corentine and her sidekick, Doctor Watson," Watson said with a smile.

  "You let her make you the sidekick?" William's chuckle vibrated his entire body, sending a small thrill through me.

  "I had no choice." Watson shrugged. "Sherlock Holmes had his own Watson. She found it hilarious and started insisting I was her sidekick for solving the mystery of the missing petunias. I couldn't say no."

  "Did you discover what happened to them?" William asked, not doing a good job at hiding his amusement.

  "Mother had ordered the gardener to remove them," I muttered, hating her even more in that moment than I had when we'd discovered the truth.

  "That isn't what we told ourselves at the time, though," Watson put in. "It wasn't anywhere near dramatic enough. Lucy insisted that it was all some kind of plot to remove anything pretty from the gardens..."

  "Is that why petunias are your favourite flower?" William asked, looking down at me with so much affection in his eyes.

  It took all my strength not to look at Watson. That story was only part of the reason petunias were my favourite, and I wasn't sure how William would respond to learning the rest of it.

  "You still like petunias the most?" Watson put in.

  "Yes," I answered softly, still thinking of the thirteen-year-old Watson who'd climbed in my window and left a small plant on my dresser.

  "Huh. I'd never have thought that." There was a hint of hurt in his voice, but I didn't understand why.

  "So...where do we go from here?" I asked, diverting the conversation away from anything that could cause more friction between William and I. As far as I was concerned, we'd dealt with our argument for the year, and it would be twelve months until we fought again. Maybe that was idealistic of me, but it was something to cling on to.

  "You could come golfing with us?" William suggested.

  I snorted. "I don't think the golfing green is ready to deal with my poise and grace."

  Watson chuckled deeply. "She has a point there."

  "But I do suggest we leave the alcove before we're discovered and cause a scandal."

  "Is it really that
bad to be caught with two men?" Watson asked, the twinkle back in his eye. He was blowing hot and cold faster than a hairdryer on speed, I couldn't make any sense of it.

  "Have you met my mother?" I droled.

  "It strikes me as the kind of thing she'd be oddly proud of you for it," William suggested.

  "You might be right there," I admitted. "But then again, I'm the one doing it, that's automatic disapproval right there."

  "It sounds like she hasn't changed one bit," Watson muttered darkly.

  "If anything, she's gotten worse over the years," William told him.

  "I wouldn't have thought that possible, but then, I've met Lady Corentine."

  "Wait...are you two bonding over frustration at my mother?" I asked, stepping out of William's arms so I could look between the two of them.

  The curtain brushed against my back, reminding me just how close we were to the rest of the people at mother's soirée, and that we really shouldn't be caught here. I needed the doors in vampire society to be open to me, not closed because they thought I was doing the dirty with two men at their event. The where of that being the bigger deal.

  "Frustration is a little bit of an understatement." Watson was trying to repress the smile on his face, but was doing a ridiculously bad job of it. He clearly wanted to laugh, but knew better than to let it happen.

  "More like, outright hate and wish she'd leave you alone," William added.

  "William," I scolded. He'd never been so vocal about mother before, and while I agreed with him, I couldn't have him going around and actually saying it. That would just mean that I had to confront the truth myself.

  He shrugged. "It seems like today is a day for telling the truth."

  "It seems like it." I had no idea what had gotten into him today. William had never been the confrontational type, and yet now he was speaking up. It made no sense. "Is this because no one has seen my grandmother in three years?" I asked him.

  "What? No, of course not." He glanced away, not fast enough for me to miss the guilt in his eyes.

  "It is, isn't it? You think they're going to announce me as the head of the Corentine family at any moment, and you're freaking out about it." And in turn, was staking his claim so to speak.

  "I..."

  "You realise that's not going to happen any time soon, right?" I cut him off, not interested in whatever he was going to say next. And not because I was mad either. At the end of the day, I was my grandmother's official heir, it stood to reason that people would think I was about to take over when she hadn't been seen is so long.

  "Well, your grandmother hasn't been seen in a long time," Watson said.

  I glared at him. "You're not part of this conversation."

  "I'm standing a foot away from you, I think you'll find that I am."

  I scowled, mostly because he was kind of right. His presence did make it impossible to exclude him.

  "My grandmother is fine. She's just hanging in the basement back home."

  William frowned as Watson scoffed beside me.

  "Let's guess, she's chilling in a coffin surrounded by bats and only comes out at night." The laughter almost came through in my childhood friend's voice, but he just about managed to keep it under control.

  "Bats make too much of a mess, but yes to the rest of it," I admitted. It was a shame grandmother didn't like bats, having some around would be fun, though maybe Jester would spend his time chasing them instead of doing whatever it was cats normally did. Maybe not the best situation.

  "I've never seen her when I've been visiting," William said.

  "That's what happens when she only comes out at night."

  "And you thought you were a stereotype," he deadpanned.

  "It must be genetic," I threw back.

  He chuckled softly. “You’re truly something, Lucinda.”

  “Thanks?” My cheeks heated up, surely decorated with blushes. Whenever he looked at me like that, with such adoration in his eyes, I always wondered why we weren’t married yet.

  “Also, if you want to date Watson, then I’m on board with that.”

  I facepalmed my forehead. And that was why.

  “I’m not dating my childhood best friend,” I argued back, ignoring the smug grin appearing on said former friend.

  “Why not, Luce?” Watson asked, straightening his tie and stiffening his shoulders. “We could solve mysteries together, just like when we were young. I’ll let you touch my magnifying glass.”

  “No, thanks. You keep your magnifying glass out of my business,” I threw back, fake-gagging at the idea of touching Watt’s—

  Yuck.

  Nu-uh. I didn’t see him like that. He might’ve been my friend once, but that was no longer the case. Right now, he was just an annoying rival that kept intruding in my life and bragging about his own achievements.

  I wouldn’t touch his magnifying glass with gloves on.

  Watson chuckled, his laugh still the same boyish sound as when he was a teenager. “Ah, come on. I have a monocle that could use some polishing.”

  “Ewww, gross.”

  That was enough.

  I threw the curtain open and stepped out of the alcove, no longer caring who saw us and what they thought. I’d take the rumours over any more crude remarks.

  With a shallow curtsy, I excused myself. “Gentlemen, delightful talk, but unfortunately I have some business to attend to now. Please, try one of the crudités. They’re excellent this evening.”

  William pulled a bemused face. “Really?”

  “No, they’re awful. Steer away from all the bites. Not the point. Gentlemen.”

  Without waiting for another remark, I turned on my heels. My dress contoured my dramatic exit, swaying with the beat of my hips as I left William and Watt in the alcove.

  With me gone, maybe people would think those two were having a secret affair of their own. Now that would be a fun rumour and it would certainly make Mother dislike the two even more.

  But I wasn’t here for her disapproval.

  I pulled my phone from a hidden pocket in my dress and studied the picture Jonas sent me of his father. With any luck, he could steer me in the right direction and I’d be one step closer in closing this case.

  The sooner I got rid of Jonas, the better. Something wasn’t right about that guy. I just knew it.

  Chapter 14

  “Hors d’oeuvre?” a server asked, presenting a silver tray with slices of raw liver and a questionable looking paté.

  “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

  “Are you sure?” Mother’s voice sounded next to me. “Probably for the best. Your dress is already a little tight around the waist.”

  “Thanks, Mother.”

  She patted my face with her dry hand, the beady armbands clanking loudly. “Aw, don’t pull that face, darling. It’s not good for your wrinkles.”

  “Sorry.” Why was I apologising for the way my face looked? “Say, have you seen—”

  “Listen, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. He’s an acquaintance of Regina, my friend from bridge.”

  “Mother, I’m engaged.”

  “No, you’re not. You should really stop wearing that ring around your neck, it gives people the wrong impression.”

  “It doesn’t matter what others think.”

  Mother gasped and clutched her heart. “It most certainly does. Hush now.”

  She waved my arguments way as she ushered me through the crowd. Men and women in fancy, posh suits and dresses smiled as we passed, all in adoration of Mother. If only any of them knew how she treated me… They wouldn’t consider her a role model anymore.

  She tapped someone on his shoulder and an old man turned around. His white hair peeked out from underneath his hat and his bulging gut suggested one too many blood beers.

  “Henry, this is my daughter, Lucy. Lucy, Henry. He’s a doctor, very respectable in his field.”

  “Lucy, enchanté.” The man took hold of my hand and pressed a wet kiss on it.
r />   I repressed the shudder running down my spine and wished I hadn’t left William and Watson’s company. Their bickering was much preferred over Mother’s matchmaking.

  It didn’t even make any sense. She was the one that arranged my marriage to William. She didn’t even dislike him that much.

  “Henry, nice to meet you. I hope you’re having a good time?”

  “A splendid time, indeed. Your mother throws the best soirées. She’s got a real eye for it.”

  “Yes, she does,” I lied.

  The old doctor grabbed a cracker from a passing tray and sank his teeth into the goopy liver. Crumbs exploded onto his pristine shirt and into the grooves of his jacket.

  “Hmm-hmmm,” he moaned, licking his lips and smacking them loudly.

  Gross.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” I muttered, looking around for an excuse to walk away.

  “Yes, absolutely,” he smacked, grinning happily like a pig in the mud. “Hmmm, waiter!”

  He stopped another tray to grab a silver chalice and greedily slurped from the blood.

  “So, Lucy, why don’t you come to these events more often? Your mother would really love to see you more frequently.”

  I tightened. Why was he asking me those kind of things? That was none of his business.

  “I’ve been busy,” I said curtly.

  “My, my. Young ladies shouldn’t work too much. Better leave that up to the men, huh?”

  “I like having my own life.”

  He gobbled down another cracker. “The younger generation… Ahh… Luckily, your mother isn’t opposed to me spoiling her.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “She’s a woman that needs her luxury and my, oh my, I do like taking care of her.” He grunted as he tried to close his jacket, but there was no way the fabric would reach. “Oh, well. Looks like I’ve eaten one hors d’oeuvre too many. Well, that’s—”

  “What do you mean by… spoiling my mother?” I interrupted, glaring at the fat doctor.

  “Well, I don’t like to tell, but after the divorce, your mother and I got to talking. Now let me tell you, Georgina is one feisty lady, but I like it that way,” he chuckled.