Bitten At Daybreak

by Deanna Chase

  “So lucky me.” Dax continued on his rant. “I’ve been here, indentured to Clio, because that bitch can’t just give a person a job. No, she needed control, and I had to sign a magical contract just for the privilege of working in this shithole. And it’s all because eight years ago I loved you too much to let you rot here. I thought for sure you’d try to do something to break her spell once you were free, but I’m betting Allcot wouldn’t let you. He doesn’t like the competition. And it appears the only reason Clio is gone is because your old friend Willow got tangled up with that witch when she ended up owing her too much. Isn’t it funny how only three months after she checked into the Red Door, your husband and his band of vamp assholes tore this place to shreds?”

  “And you’re still indentured,” I finished for him.

  “That’s right.” He pierced me with his dark eyes. “And now here you are, delighting me with your presence, and I know that if Allcot finds out, he’ll either kill me or torture me. Yet I don’t seem to care because I’m enjoying the hell out of visiting with the girl I fell in love with when I was fifteen years old. Do me a favor, will you?”

  “Anything,” I said instantly, still stunned by the revelation of his life.

  “Go back into the club and leave me the hell alone.”

  Our gazes locked, and I saw all the pain that loving my doppelgänger had caused him. He was torn up inside, doing his best to hold it together. But in that moment, I knew if I didn’t find a way to free him, he’d be broken and there’d be no saving him. Eight years was a long time to be someone’s servant, but serving the man who was married to the woman he so clearly loved would be worse than torture. I wouldn’t let him endure it.

  “Listen, Dax—”

  “Just go, Phoebe,” he said softly. “It’s better for both of us.”

  The barely concealed pain in his voice made me nod and silently go back into the club.

  12

  “The pack killed your brother?” Dax asked Phoebe, shock rooting his feet to the floor. “When?”

  She didn’t answer as she retreated back into the house. It was a small cottage, but the inside was freshly painted and well-kept. “How did you find me?”

  “Good tracking skills,” he said and wrapped his arms around her.

  She stiffened, pressing her hands to his chest. “What are you doing?”

  “Hugging you.” He glanced down at her, frowned, and released her. She clearly didn’t want his embrace. “Sorry. I thought after your brother and… never mind.” Dax didn’t know what to say. She was… different. Cold and closed off. “Are you all right?”

  She shook her head. “I told you they killed my brother and are trying to kill me.”

  “Right.” Dax walked into the small kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He took a seat at the kitchen counter and eyed her. “Is there a reason you didn’t call me? I’ve been really worried, Phoebe.”

  “I…” She shook her head, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Shit.” He got up and wrapped his arms around her again. Phoebe wasn’t a crier. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have led with that. It’s all right. Tell me about your brother. How did you find out?”

  Her arms came around him, and for the first time in days, he felt whole again. When had he started feeling like half a person without her? He had no idea.

  “The other night when they came after me. They showed me pictures, told me he was dead and it was my turn. So I…” She choked on a sob and buried her head against his chest.

  They? Not just Maci? “Do you know who they are?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t recognize them. But… the girl, I…” Her voice trailed off and she looked a little panicked.

  “It was self-defense.” Relief rushed through him as he said the words, and he hugged her tighter. “It’s okay. You did what you had to do. I just don’t know why you’re out here on your own. You know I would’ve been here to help you track them down.”

  She blinked up at him, her black eyes bright with unshed tears. “I just… can we deal with all that later?”

  Damn. He was an asshole. Dax just wasn’t used to his partner falling apart right before his eyes. But she had just learned her brother was dead. Of course she was going to be messed up. She’d spent the past few months searching for him after finding out he was alive, and now she’d lost him again. “Sure, Phoebs. Anything you need. Let’s work on bringing these shifters in, and then we can deal with all of that later.”

  She nodded and pulled out of his embrace. “Have you heard of the Masterson pack?”

  “I hadn’t up until a few days ago. But I’ve been doing my homework and learned a little about them. How about you?”

  “Do you know where to find them?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Some of them.” Dax took another step back, unsettled. She was acting really strange. “Why don’t you fill me in on what exactly happened the day you left the infirmary so I can get an idea of what’s going on.”

  She glanced away and ran a hand through her dark hair. “You mean the day Maci Masterson attacked me?”

  “Yes.” Dax sat back down on the kitchen stool and waited.

  “Well, I’d been in the infirmary, right?” She said it as if she were asking Dax to confirm, so he nodded. “Right. Anyway, I wanted to stretch my legs. It was getting dark out, but I figured if I walked around the Garden District, it would be fine. But then she just came out of nowhere. We struggled, and in the end I had no choice. It was either me or her.”

  “I figured it had come down to that,” Dax said with a nod even though his gut told him something was seriously off. That wasn’t how Phoebe reported her interactions. Again, he reminded himself that she’d just learned of her brother’s death. It was entirely possible she was just in shock and not acting herself. “What happened after that? You didn’t call or report it to the Void office.”

  “I just… I don’t know.” She shook her head and stared straight ahead. “I just needed time to process, I guess.”

  “And to absorb the news of your brother?”

  She blew out a breath and nodded as if relieved. “Yes. I haven’t exactly been myself.”

  “I kind of noticed,” he said gently.

  “Right. Well…” She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. Then she backed up, putting distance between them. “Can you work on finding these members of the pack? They’re the ones involved with Seth’s death.”

  “Sure, but—”

  “I need to shower,” she said and took off into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  Dax stood there, stunned. That hadn’t been the reunion he’d imagined. The pipes groaned and he heard the rush of water as he moved to the couch and studied the paper she’d given him. It had a list of four names.

  Maci Masterson

  Gerry Coster

  Prim Masterson

  Lincoln Frost

  It took him a phone call to the Void and less than five minutes to get the background information on her targets. They were all cousins of Maci Masterson. They all worked in the city. None of them had a record. As far as he could tell, they’d put the pack trouble behind them years ago. But what about the attacks on Phoebe and her brother? Why now?

  An ache started to form above his eyes, and he pressed two fingers to his forehead, trying to ease the pressure. He downloaded the background reports of the four cousins from an email and scanned the sheets. After making no real connections, he started to make notes to see if a pattern would emerge.

  Names, family, known associates, employment, addresses.

  None of them worked together. They ran in different social circles. They weren’t even associated with any of the major paranormal players in the city like Allcot or the new shifter pack that had disbanded a few months ago. They had family in common, but that was about it. They didn’t even live near each other.

  There had to be something. Prior to this week, he certainly hadn’t kno
wn anything about the Masterson pack. He couldn’t imagine Phoebe had either. Had she stumbled on something while she’d been looking for her brother? If so, why hadn’t she said anything?

  His brain was whirling, and none of it made sense. He dropped the papers and got up to pace. Sometimes movement helped. Dax glanced at the clock. Phoebe had been in the bathroom for at least thirty minutes. He started to worry again and wondered if he should check on her. He turned his attention back to the papers and listened to the sound of the clock ticking on the wall.

  After a while, he lost his battle to leave her alone, and he reached for the bedroom doorknob and found it was locked. “What the fuck?” Since when did Phoebe feel the need to lock him out?

  There was no denying it. Phoebe wasn’t herself. She was either spelled or suffering some sort of mental break about her brother. He needed to know one way or another.

  “Phoebe?” He knocked on the door, but the water was still running. How long had it been? Forty-five minutes? An hour? Far too long. He knocked once more, and when she didn’t respond, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his trusty lockpick set. In less than thirty seconds, the door popped open.

  The room was dark, but there was a light under the bathroom door. He knocked once. “Phoebs? It’s me—I’m coming in.”

  Again, no response.

  Steeling himself for what he might find, he pushed the door open and scanned the empty bathroom. “Fuck!”

  He turned off the water, then rushed over to the open window and peeked out. Phoebe was long gone. His footsteps were loud on the old hardwood as he ran through the small house and outside, scanning the area for her. He wasn’t surprised to see the garage door open and her car gone. She’d completely made a run for it.

  Why? That was the million-dollar question. An ache formed in his gut. As far as he could tell, there was only one explanation. She was responsible for Maci’s death and had decided to go on the run… even from him. He walked slowly back into the house, his head down, almost unable to process what had happened.

  He’d been covering for her for days, and she’d taken off as if he was the enemy. Her betrayal was more than a flesh wound. It cut deep, and it made him question everything he thought he knew about his partner. With his jaw set in determination, he strode back into the house and started to search for answers.

  The place was stocked with necessities. The cupboards had canned food, packages of pasta and rice, canned milk, and other nonperishable provisions. There were also take-out containers in the refrigerator. It was obvious she hadn’t been grocery shopping. Dax moved from the kitchen into the bedroom. And that’s when he hit pay dirt.

  The duffel bag that was always in her Charger was sitting on the floor of the closet. Its contents of wigs and a variety of outfits that would allow her to pass as a tourist, a student, or even a businesswoman were tossed all over the place as if she’d been frantically searching for something. It was the bag she kept on her at all times for various emergency situations when she was in the field. Only she didn’t have it now, which would make finding her easier. He couldn’t help but wonder why she hadn’t taken it with her.

  Dax gathered the clothes and shoved them back into the bag and grabbed the handles. He wasn’t leaving it there. If she came back and got the disguises, it would only make it harder for him to find her.

  Fuming, he hefted the bag and was ready to storm out of the house when he spotted a notebook that had been underneath the bag. He crouched and recognized it immediately. It was Phoebe’s journal, the one she used for important information she didn’t want to forget, like spells she was working on or suspects in her various cases.

  He picked it up and flipped through it. A small, ripped piece of paper fell out. It had the address to the safe house scrawled across it in shaky handwriting. Frowning with confusion, he stuffed the paper back into the journal, tossed it into the bag, and strode out of the safe house, trying to ignore the ache in the middle of his chest.

  The woman he loved had just gone rogue.

  13

  “What’s going on up here?” Pandora poked her head into my herb studio. “I thought you were going to come help with dinner?”

  I’d just flopped down in my chair after checking for the third time for any herb or root that was used for breaking curses. There wasn’t one vial of bloodroot, nettles, pokeroot, or any of the other herbs I was accustomed to working with. “I was just trying to brew a new potion. Sorry.” I stood and walked over to her. “Are they back yet?”

  “Yep. Just arrived twenty minutes ago. Eadric is asking for you.” She glanced over at my workstation. “What kind of potion?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual. The kind for attracting good fortune.” It wasn’t a total lie. If I did manage to brew up something that would break Dax’s curse, it would be great fortune for him.

  “Don’t you usually work more with agates?”

  “Usually,” I said, careful to keep my tone light. “I was just trying something new.” I jerked my head toward the door. “Ready? I’ll help you finish up dinner.”

  “Phoebe,” she started and glanced over her shoulder at my workstation. “You’re not working on anything you shouldn’t be, right?”

  I wanted to scream at her. How could she live in this world and act like everything was fine? Maybe because her life seemed perfect. Allcot didn’t control her. She seemed happy with Seth and her child. Was it really that easy to just turn a blind eye? It wasn’t worth fighting about though. I had a plan, and with any luck, I was going to free Dax of his curse to work for Allcot and find a way back to my own reality. “It’s nothing to worry about, Pandora. It’s a harmless potion. Come on.”

  Garlic and basil wafted up the stairs, hitting my senses as I sailed out of my studio. “What did you make? Lasagna?”

  “Yes.” She smiled, joy lighting her blue eyes. “You know it’s Seth’s favorite. I wanted something special to welcome him home.”

  I did know. Seth had always been partial to Italian food. A tingle of happiness skated through my heart. Even though I was stuck in this strange reality, it was nice to be able to share in these simple pleasures again with my brother and his family. “It smells wonderful. Thank you. I should’ve helped.”

  “It was nothing. I was happy to do it,” she said, following me down the stairs.

  I guessed it was good that she was happy to do it. But frankly, it ticked me off that she was the only one who seemed to be in charge of the domestic tasks in Allcot’s plantation home. The women in this world were treated as property, and I wanted no part in perpetuating that gross gender role. If I had my way, the men would each take on a night of cooking, while the women hung out in the office and discussed something more interesting that cooking temperatures. We strolled into the kitchen, and Pandora immediately made a beeline for her lasagna that was resting on the counter. I headed for the wine. Lots of it.

  Once I had the table set, Pandora called the men. Allcot and Seth emerged from Allcot’s office, their heads bent together in discussion. Whatever they were talking about, they were too engrossed to notice me. Or so I thought.

  “Phoebe, what the hell are you wearing?” Allcot snapped.

  I glanced down at my jeans and the T-shirt I’d fished out of Seth’s wardrobe. My closet was full of June Cleaver dresses that I’d rather burn than wear again. “What does it look like I’m wearing?”

  Seth cringed at my tone, but I kept my shoulders straight and didn’t back down.

  “Go upstairs and change,” Allcot ordered. “That isn’t appropriate dinner attire.”

  I glanced around and let out a chuckle. “For who? Are we having a dinner party no one told us about?”

  “For me,” Allcot said, his voice low but commanding. It was clear he didn’t like to be challenged in front of Seth.

  Well, too fucking bad. “I think I look fine.”

  He started to walk toward me, but Seth cut him off and got to me first. “Excuse us for a second,” Seth said. �
�I need a word with my sister.”

  Normally I would’ve balked about being manhandled by my brother, but the fact was, I wanted a private moment with him too. So I let him lead me all the way upstairs and back to my studio that doubled as my bedroom.

  “What are you doing? Are you trying to rock the boat?” he asked, his voice wary.

  “Maybe,” I said, placing my hands on my hips. “I thought you were going to go back home and find you know who? Where have you been for the past four days?”

  “With Allcot. You know that,” he said, walking over to the small closet. I’d moved some clothes into the room just so I wouldn’t have to run into Allcot every morning while getting dressed. Seth pulled out the one decent dress in my closet. “Put this on. He likes this one.”

  “Of course he does. The V goes almost to my belly button,” I said dryly.

  “It doesn’t go that far. If it did, Allcot would never let you wear it.”

  I rolled my eyes. It showed off plenty, but whatever. This was a sexy dress and wasn’t worth arguing over. But if someone tried to make me wear polka dots and saddle shoes, I was going to snap. I took the dress from him and said, “Turn around.”

  My brother did as I said and I got to work on changing.

  “Now, what were you doing in Baton Rouge?” I asked again.

  “Some research on another pleasure club,” he finally said. “It’s a similar situation to the Red Door. A few women got caught up in the wrong mess and I asked Allcot to see if we can add it to the company portfolio.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing instantly that there was more to the story. “Why that club? Don’t they all have ethics problems?”

  “Probably.” He stared at his feet, and for a second I was convinced he wasn’t going to tell me the whole truth. But then he blurted, “I found Heather. She’s working there.”