Belladonna's Curse

by E. M. Whittaker

  He grabbed her shoulders. “Quit acting like a spoiled pussycat.”

  “I’m not the guy who’s afraid to play dead to catch a psychopathic killing machine.” She adopted a teasing tone. “Or digging on hot mamas. I mean, if that’s your thing, then—”

  He seized her chin, scraping his nails along her jaw. “How do you hope to best Sanderson and finish your assignments if you can’t even keep your mouth in check?”

  “I’ll manage. I have so far.”

  “Your luck won’t last forever.”

  Okay. He had a point. Her luck would run out eventually. However, no one else shouldered the burden of finding out about her dead mother or about her missing husband.

  Deities help her, no one would look for Gunther. Everyone turned their backs on her. Well, almost everyone. Her friends tolerated her little crusade. Lim and Reese distanced themselves from the situation, claiming she made a big deal over nothing.

  If they wouldn’t help her, fine.

  She’d look for him.

  Alone.

  “You’re just like your mother, dear.” His expression hardened. “You’re too headstrong for your own good. It’s a nice change from dealing with Sanderson’s cronies, though. Dealing with them almost gives me ulcers.”

  “Imagine hearing them full-time.”

  He put a finger to her lips. “Instead of retaliating with smartass remarks, learn how to sharpen your claws and hide your trump cards. You won’t find out anything about Gunther this way.”

  She scrunched her nose with a hiss. “Don’t patronize me.”

  “Then focus on fixing one problem at a time.” He ruffled her hair. “Fixing Gunther and Limere’s mistakes aren’t your burden to bear.”

  Yes, they were. No one else would fix them.

  Mye opened the door then stepped out of the Chevy Cobalt, holding back her retort. He wouldn’t agree with her, so why bother telling him?

  She grabbed her purse, then cleared her throat. “Fine. What would you like me to do first?”

  “Interview your potential candidate.” He reached for a glass container in his cupholder. “Adding a fresh face to your roster might hone your poor leadership skills.”

  Mye huffed, then slammed his door.

  He could choke on his bloody drink for all she cared.

  She leaned against the Cobalt, adjusting her top until it covered her stomach. Karyn wouldn’t help her team. She’d kill it. Her work ethic sucked. Plus, she skipped out on Joe at Trickster’s whenever she felt like it.

  Not a girl she wanted on her team.

  Still, Armandi had a point. She had to honor her part of her sponsorship sometime. Without the racing money, she’d be strapped for cash on making her own medicines. Their bills and Lim’s attorney ate most of her first paycheck.

  Somehow, she had to make this work.

  Her target leaned against the dented Stingray, cussing out someone over the phone. Her arms jerked while she flung herself forward, yelling at the poor person on the other line. Her boobs nearly bounced out of her navy-blue tank top the longer she paced around her car.

  Mye’s right eye twitched.

  What a classy lady.

  “Karyn.” She headed over to the athletically built woman, plastering a tight-lipped smile on her lips. “It’s nice to see you. Glad you could make it tonight.”

  She checked her bright pink watch. “You’re late. We were supposed to meet in East Baltimore, not on Ritchie Highway.”

  “Yeah, I know.” The smile died from Mye’s lips. “Something came up. I apologize.”

  “Yeah, no shit. You could have called, you know.”

  What an uptight bitch. Next time, she’d dump the little princess on Joe.

  “Well, since you’re here…” Miss Priss took on a snobbish stance. “I suppose I’ll meet with you. I don’t have anything else to do.”

  Mye pointed to her vehicle. “You could fix your car. In fact, you might want to get a new one. There’s enough dents to scrap it for parts.”

  “I like my car.” Karyn rubbed her window. “I don’t have money like your family. I do the best I can. Some of us have to fix our cars in between paychecks. Do you remember when

  I installed my new radio before the preliminaries? You know … where I couldn’t get a clear connection.”

  Oh, yeah. She did.

  Her attitude got snarkier since then.

  “Oh, I did cosmetic work last weekend, too.” The chatterbox pointed toward her trunk. “I buffed out the bumper. Gave Speedy a paint job. I still need tinted windows, shocks, and new tires, though.”

  “Look, I’ll be real with you.” Mye clasped her leather gloved hands together. “I’m not sure if I want you. You’re one step away from being fired at Tricksters because you skip out all the time. Whatever money you make goes into that MMO obsession of yours.”

  Karyn put her hands behind her head. “What I play is none of your business.”

  “You’re missing the point.” Her voice turned heated. “You’re not showing anyone you’re reliable. If you weren’t family, Joe would’ve canned your ass by now.”

  “Yeah, about that.” Shame colored her face. “I’ve been showing up to work.” Her shoe squeaked against the metal frame. “I don’t need lectures from a woman who’s always getting herself into trouble. Why were you late, anyway?”

  For the second time that night, heat flooded Mye’s cheeks. This little upstart would drive her nuts.

  For one, she had no respect for her vehicle. No self-respecting racer would scrape their dingy shoes against their car. She’d seen her do it before. They’d cringe, yell, or try breaking her limbs. A few of them would try making her pay for repairs because of the custom paint job.

  Second, her attendance record—even with improvement—left Mye with serious doubts. Her bestie wouldn’t lie to her about Karyn’s MMO addiction. Otherwise he’d find something else to complain about.

  So far, Joe stayed consistent.

  Finally, her pretty-pretty princess attitude conflicted with hers, yet she won Lim and Maurice’s approval somehow. Maybe she smoked with Lim and Cel on the weekends when she visited them. She hung out with them enough.

  Either way, she was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

  Armandi would pay for this later.

  “If you want respect in this community, invest in your vehicle.” A little freebie wouldn’t hurt the princess. “I get the whole paycheck-to-paycheck thing, but abusing your vehicle won’t earn brownie points with me. You’re a goddamn mechanic. There’s no excuse for your behavior.”

  “Oh lordy.” She tapped her foot at a hurried pace. “You’re a real tight-ass, just like Jem said. I wonder if I made a mistake meeting you.”

  That made two of them.

  The deities saddled her with a problem child.

  Actually, Karyn was Joe and Jem’s problem child. After Reggie’s death, she became depressed and went into a downward spiral. First, she quit college. Then she gave up the racing circuit, but Mye wouldn’t have noticed with how she eased back into the community a month ago.

  Tonight, she raced like she hadn’t missed practice at all.

  Okay, she exaggerated a little. Anyone could outrace a fledging like Travis. But Karyn’s techniques—while a bit sloppy—worked well while racing them on Ritchie Highway. The little bet she placed with Travis earlier that week worked wonders. It gave him motivation.

  The next time she needed something done right, she’d give Travis a beater car and let him chase suspects. He learned better when he could do things himself.

  Until then, she had no choice. She’d tolerate her.

  For now.

  “Look, I didn’t want to come.” Karyn splayed her arm across the driver’s side door. “We’re not fond of each other. But your brother thought I’d be a good fit here. He’s tired of hearing Cel and Jem fight about me.”

  Goddammit. Now she knew who put Armandi up to this asinine idea.

  She’d hide Lim’s
stash later or sell it. Either option would get her point across.

  He overstepped his boundaries again.

  “Fine.” Irritation oozed from her voice. “If Lim suggested you, I’ll consider it. Your performance wasn’t the worst I’ve seen. That’s why I ran late. I got to watch you with my driver.”

  She thumbed to the sooty black Cobalt behind her.

  Karyn grumbled. “Bitch.”

  “You impressed me.” Mye clapped her hands together. “You almost got rid of two federal agents tailing you in a beater vehicle. Drifting works well for you. However, you need practice. You’re too reliant on a single technique.”

  “Humph. Speedy’s the best car I’ve had.”

  She brushed her hair off her shoulders. Time to kick their meeting up a notch.

  “Why would federal agents be tailing you?”

  Karyn straightened when she slid into her driver’s seat. “If you know who they are, you’ll know what they asked me.”

  “I don’t. They haven’t told me anything.” Mye walked up to her car, then leaned against the dented frame. “In fact, I tried telling them questioning you was pointless, but you know how men are. They wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “Next time, tell them to do their research.” Karyn’s ice-blue eyes softened. “They asked about a few things they could’ve found out themselves. For example, I don’t know about drug dealers anymore. I’m not with the in crowd, so I can’t help you there. If you wait a minute, I’ll give you my cell number. I’d rather talk to you or your family about Reggie than those guys. They…they wouldn’t understand.”

  “What did they ask you?”

  “Something about a cartel.” Part of Miss Priss’s confidence returned while she scrawled something on a Post-It note and handed it to her. “Look, I referred them to Lim. He’d be able to help them better. He’s still into the drug dealing, right?”

  She let out a shuddering breath. Goddamn her.

  The pretty princess just made this situation worse.

  “Okay.” Mye breathed out the word while snatching the note. “I’ll talk to them about it. Don’t tell them anything else.”

  “I don’t know why you’re worried.” Karyn’s voice rose like a valley girl. “He didn’t say he’d arrest him. Cel says he’s clean. If he’s only doing weed or making meds, why worry about what these agents think?”

  “Because I have to work with Tweedledee and Tweedledum tomorrow morning.” Mye made her voice sweet while clenching her teeth. “And Cel could be lying for him. She’s done it before.”

  A spark of magic came to Karyn’s eyes. “She wouldn’t lie to me.”

  Mye backed away. “Okay.”

  “We’re tight.” Karyn crossed her fingers. “Tighter than when Reggie was alive. Her family helped me when no one else did. Oh, your brothers, too. Not that I expect you to understand.”

  Not when she teased Maurice, no.

  “I’ll have Lim call you about practice.” She shoved the note in her pocket. “Let me know if those agents tail you again. Travis isn’t the most conventional agent but I don’t think he meant to upset you.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Karyn started her car. Katy Perry’s “Roar” came to life on the radio.

  She sung a lyric or two before driving off.

  Mye shook her head and shoved her hands in her pockets. She waited until the other woman was gone before heading back to the Cobalt, crooking a finger against her pointy chin. Tomorrow morning, she’d meet with Travis. Of course, he’d interrogate her, but whatever. He never looked at anything before talking with anyone.

  Well, except her when they met. Maybe she was an exception.

  Headlights flashed her quickly in succession three times.

  Damn. Armandi grew impatient. The deities needed to give her a breather occasionally.

  She seized her peridot necklace, shuddering at dealing with those lowlifes inside the Zodiac Cartel. Evan Donahue—the man who stole her territory years ago—forced her brother to create this monstrosity. While he made a killing on the black market, he lost his morals, viewing her as an expensive medical problem akin to cancer.

  The rift between them was almost irreparable.

  If Lim rebuilt his precious cartel, she’d disown him.

  She opened the car door, pursing her lips while she fastened her seatbelt. “We’ll discuss the meeting later. Travis asked her some emotional questions regarding the Zodiac Cartel.”

  The Cobalt sped through the parking lot, then turned onto Ritchie Highway.

  She pouted, shifted her body, and leaned against the passenger’s window. The chilled glass soothed her flushed face since his erratic driving made her stomach heave.

  Mye clenched her fist, ignoring the blurry scenery around her.

  They wouldn’t tear her family apart a second time.

  Twenty-five minutes passed before Mye spoke to Armandi again.

  She crossed her arms, growling at the darkened road. Curse her horrible luck. Karyn would cause her nothing but trouble with her jaded attitude and reckless behavior. Why did she pawn Lim off on Travis, anyway?

  Something didn’t add up.

  Lim hadn’t spoken to his cursed cartel in years—not since he’d been granted parole five and a half years ago. He had kept his promise about keeping himself clean and not selling hardcore drugs again. Weed didn’t count. Not anymore.

  If other states could legally tolerate stoners, so could she.

  Still, investigating the cartel could lead her down a dangerous rabbit hole. If her brother heard about it, he might relapse again.

  She nibbled on her lip.

  Lim wouldn’t find out about this case.

  Mye shuffled in her seat, happy to come across a familiar parking lot. The Tethered Mistress stood proud, almost majestic in its underground confines. Clean air hit her nostrils when she opened the door.

  A scarred Italian bouncer guarded the double glass doors. The top of his head shone underneath the lights near the bar.

  Cute.

  Marco shaved his head.

  Guess another woman dumped him.

  Armandi pulled into a parking spot near the back of the lot and stopped.

  She grabbed her handbag and unbuckled her seatbelt, taking a deep breath. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t help her.

  He’d answer her questions before she left tonight.

  “Wait.”

  Mye moved her shaky hand to the door. “Why?”

  “Collect yourself first.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Please.”

  She recoiled. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Why? Because I’m—”

  “Well, that.” She’d forgotten about his half-dead self. “But you know the truth about me. Anyway, you’re changing the subject. Answer my question.”

  “Which one?”

  “You know.” Mye stepped out of the car. “The cartel. What do you know about them?”

  “Discussing your family’s downfall—”

  “I said my trigger-happy partner asked Karyn about them. Mentioned them by name. He’ll interrogate me tomorrow, so I’d appreciate any information.” Her voice softened. “I’m not asking about this because of my brother. She said he’s stayed clean.”

  “Don’t believe everything you hear, dear. He’s better at keeping secrets than you.”

  The lighthearted jab shattered her confidence.

  Her big brother had turned dark when he became a big earner in the drug market. He disregarded anything she said and turned to his nefarious ex to help him solve his problems. Her solution involved experimenting with acid and coke. Bad combination. Coke became his best friend for years, though.

  It also changed him. His unbearable paranoia and delusions overwhelmed him.

  “Maybe.” She held her necklace, trying to stop her gloved hands from trembling. “He’s better now, though.”

  “You’re right.” His grip loosened. “If he started dealing again, I’d tell you. I checked out everything before arranging tonigh
t’s meeting.”

  She nodded.

  “Still, they’ve been pushing near the Mistress for about a week.” His voice took on a dark undertone. “No one’s bought anything, but those two are trying to push drugs on children. Disgusting.”

  “Then why mention them at all?”

  Armandi pointed to two figures loitering by the side of the bar. “Two of his old associates are here.”

  A scream carried from the opened door, diverting their attention.

  Mye rushed out the door, baring her canines.

  Lim’s former associates—including his ex—hated her because of her reluctance to follow his footsteps. Not to mention the arguments about money and her medical problems. He had vented to them a lot.

  His ex wanted her sent to an assisted living home. His bestie wanted him to put her out of her misery. Harsh words from a vampire, but what did she expect? Summer masqueraded as a high schooler despite being around a hundred years old.

  Talk about creepy.

  Nonetheless, the vampire’s words influenced him and his dreaded associates. As time went on, he questioned her constant medical treatments, despite knowing how much she needed them. He straightened up after going through rehab. Jail helped him, too.

  Mye let out a low snarl.

  Chelsea would screw everything up again.

  Christ. Her shifter side awakened. I nap for two hours and the most insidious things happen to you. It’s nice to know some people don’t change, though.

  No kidding.

  By the time she arrived, a dirty blonde woman in a mix of Gothic and Lolita styled clothing restrained an Asian teen. She tried shoving a syringe into his arm.

  The boy kicked at her.

  Her companion came over, helping her restrain the squirming teen.

  The teenager squealed again, thrashing against her grip.

  Mye grabbed the woman’s ponytail, then yanked on it.

  Chelsea stumbled backward with a yell.

  Served her right.

  Meanwhile, the teen sprinted away, heading toward Armandi. When he reached the dhampir, Armandi escorted him inside the bar.

  Thank God. She could deal with these two properly.

  Blurry movement came from her right. She turned, facing the Goth’s partner.