by Ann Denton
Bella speaks. “Your Honor, the DA’s office would like to approach the bench.”
Wait, what? My suspicious eval of Hot Vamp halts. This is an arraignment. A quick calendar court hearing. Why could she possibly want to approach?
Bella smiles at me and continues. “Exculpatory evidence has come to light. Our chief investigator, Bennett French, is available to speak to you about this evidence in chambers.”
Sheila insists. “Your Honor, I would like to be a part of this conversation, particularly as my client was held without being read her rights or formally charged.” She’s total sweetness and composure. But she had been on a tear when I ate her donuts. Something about habeas corpus and rights. Junk that I don’t even know about as a paralegal. By the time it gets to me, a case is already filed and moving. I hope she goes up there and gives them an earful. But I watch her approach, meek as a mouse.
Ruddy eyes her and Bennett. Then he jerks his head to a black door on the back wall. He exits the bench, and he, Sheila, and Bennett disappear behind the door for a few minutes.
My eyes stay glued to that door. I don’t know if my heart even beats. The rest of me is frozen in anticipation. I feel like my heart is too.
Ruddy comes back. He takes the bench. I’m so nervous I could wet myself.
“In light of new evidence this mornin’, I’m releasin’ Ms. Fox on her own recognizance. Ms. Fox, your arraignment is delayed two weeks. You must appear in court for your new arraignment. In the meantime, you canna’ leave town, lass.”
I exhale and have to grab the little wooden wall of the pen as my knees give out.
Jerry smiles and opens the gate to the main courtroom. I rush out of the pen.
I hug Sheila. She lets me, despite the smell, which just makes me like her a little more. I run to hug Bennett but Bella steps into my path and glances meaningfully at Ruddy and Hot Vamp. I mean Luke. Luke Hawkins. Now my prime suspect. The man who wanted to pay for a supposed killer to walk free.
Bella’s meaning is clear. (Which is crazy because I don’t have that pack-mind talky thing.) Her eyes say, ‘Talk to Luke.’ She just delayed the case against me. I guess I owe her. A little. I turn and saunter over to Luke.
“Thanks for having my back.”
“Not a problem. I was kind of looking forward to seeing you in a jumpsuit.”
I look down, remembering I haven’t showered. Gross. Ew. Dammit. In my elation, I forgot how disgusting I am. I mean, he can probably smell my breath! I quickly back up a few steps. “Sorry. Guess us big-time criminals don’t get the same posh treatment as you little guys.”
He laughs. Damn. That’s a nice sound. Especially to my newly free ears.
“Why don’t you shower at home, and then I’ll pick you up and take you to breakfast somewhere. Since, you know, I couldn’t bond you out.”
I smile and bite my lip, glancing surreptitiously at Bennett. He gives a tiny nod. He wants me to go on a date with a hot suspect? A hot murder suspect. Isn’t he afraid for me? Gah! Jerk.
Chapter 7
I give Luke my address and tell him to meet me there in an hour. Because I don’t want to subject some poor witch to smelling me, I walk home. It takes about ten minutes to get to my front door. I’m slipping the key into the lock when the knob turns and the door is jerked open from the inside.
JR pulls me in to a monster hug. Then she pushes me inside where Jacob and Saffron are waiting.
“Oh my stars. You smell worse than that burnt meatloaf Arnold brought to work last week!” JR exclaims.
“Thanks.”
Saffron wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, go hop in the shower.”
“Wait a second, Ms. Bossy. How come none of you were at the courthouse crying and wringing your hands over me? I’m very offended. This wasn’t like some were-barking violation or something. They accused me of murder!”
Jacob steps in to take the brunt of my ire. Which is brave. Because there’s a lot. These are supposed to be my peeps. “Look. Bennett told us it would be best if we all came here—”
“Why is everyone in the world listening to Bennett? Like he’s some master of the universe? I was knocked out and I was his best suspect for murder.”
“Not my best,” a gravelly voice said from behind.
I whirled around to see my ex in my doorway. “What are you doing here? Stalker. Ruddy let me out on OR. And Sheila’s gonna eat Bella’s booty for unlawful holding. Maybe yours too. It’s over.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not. There’s still a murder investigation open.”
“Okay.” I tilt my head and raise my eyebrows, wondering why the heck he’s still here.
“I’d also like to clarify, for everyone else’s benefit, I’m not a stalker.”
I roll my eyes. JR giggles until I death-glare her into silence. Best friends are supposed to back a girl up. “Your friend card is in serious jeopardy right now,” I tell her.
“So’s yours.” She jerks her head at the myriad of dead plants around my living room.
“Fine. We’re even. But only if you kick the stalker out while I shower.”
I stomp to my bedroom like a five-year-old.
“Did you mean kick him out of the living room into your bedroom?” JR crows after me. “Cause I can do that.”
Everyone dissolves into laughter behind me. I flip them all off.
After a shower, three rounds of brushing my teeth, and life-reaffirming hot cocoa from Jacob, I feel alive again. I’m sitting on my couch, dressed for my date with Luke in a cute little black tank and skirt, and listening to—of all people—Bennett. Because JR did not kick him out.
“Just listen, he’s got a plan,” she says.
Saffron and Jacob back her up. So basically, I’m peer-pressured into listening to the plan of the man who arrested me.
Bennett’s brilliant plan is for me to wear the spelled version of a wire while I talk to Hot Vamp.
“Because a guy I just met yesterday is gonna trip all over himself to confess murder to me.”
Bennett frowns. “He was tripping all over himself to bond you out. You should have seen him running around the courthouse.”
That makes me pause. I picture the image. Hot muscled vamp running from courtroom to courtroom, desperate to save his beloved. Sweat dripping down his brow, fear etched on his face. He gasps out in a southern accent, ‘Is she here? The beautiful girl they want for murder?’ Because somehow my melodramatic fantasies always make people have southern accents.
Bennett is snapping his fingers in front of my face to bring me back to reality.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go to breakfast.”
I wave his hand away like a pesky fly. “Maybe you should give me a break. I got hit on the head, drank, and accused of murder.”
JR rolls her eyes. “How long are you gonna use that one as an excuse?”
“Forever.”
“You get two weeks. Tops. Then I’m gonna sing the not-listening song whenever you pull that.”
“Noted.”
“Ladies, can we focus?”
Bennett looks like he wants to pull his hair out. That makes me happy. I want to pull his hair out. But then that thought makes me think about pulling his hair. Which makes me horny. Oh no. “I am having problems thinking straight right now.” I’m a little giddy. Can that be an after-effect of shock? Or is it an after-effect of three donuts, two coffees, and a hot cocoa? Or an after-effect of being charged with murder and then getting out of jail? Or a fore-effect of having a spy-date with a possible murderer? See … my brain cells are really fried.
Bennett’s in my face, pleading baby boy look in full force. “He’ll be here in five minutes, okay? Five minutes. I just need you to last an hour after that. I’ve got this spelled necklace for you to wear. It’ll record everything you say, play it for me back at the office. Okay?”
I take the necklace from him. It’s a dingy-looking old penny with a hole drilled into it and a crap chain that will probably leave a green trail on my ski
n. I look at JR. “I told you this guy’s a stalker.”
“I’m not—”
JR nods, playing along. It’s why we’re besties. “Totally a stalker.”
“He wants to hear me make out with a vamp.”
“You said you’d never touch—” Bennett’s tone gets terse. His mouth crinkles to one side. He’s totally got a pout face.
I laugh. “OMG. I won’t. But you got all riled up.”
“I’m not riled up.”
“You seem a little upset.” JR chimes in. Jacob and Saffron work to control their smiles.
I turn to JR. “But not like murderous stalker upset, right?”
She pretends to evaluate him. “I dunno.”
“Are you gonna wear the damn necklace or not?”
I roll my eyes and slip it over my head. Spoilsport. Bennett always has to take things so seriously. “He’s gonna notice. Or suspect. If he’s such a bad guy that you’re supposedly stalking him, not me, then he probably has a dozen runes in those tattoos that will render this worthless.”
But, that gives me an idea. “One sec.” I scurry to my bedroom and pull out a tiny hairclip spy-cam I got a few years back from Jacob. Picture quality sucks, so I’ve never used it. But it’ll grab audio and some kind of video. I put the clip in my hair. Kinda cheesy. But not spelled. A lot of people in the magic world don’t think about human gadgets. So maybe this backup will work.
There’s a knock at my door. Shit. He’s here.
“Everyone into my bedroom. Now!” I stage-whisper, tripping over my own feet as I go to the door.
I wait until they’re hidden. Then I pull open the door with a staged grin. Luke Hawkins, hot vamp extraordinaire, is wearing a yummy leather jacket and tight black jeans and standing on my stoop. I mentally curse the number of people huddled in my bedroom. Not that I could drag him in there. But if I could … okay brain. Cooperate. Words. Job. Evidence. Go.
I hold the door open for Luke to enter. “Hey! Come in—one-time invitation only.”
He grins. “Someone’s read the vamp manual.”
“Yeah well, I have a problem with ex-boyfriends turning into stalkers,” I say loudly. There Bennett. Take that. In fact, that gives me an idea. I think I know how to get Luke to open up and bug Bennett at the same time. Ha ha. My brain might not be so far gone after all.
“Let me grab a jacket and purse and we can get outta here.” I get a grey cropped jacket from the hall closet but forget the contents of my purse were dumped into an evidence envelope. “Sorry. One sec.” I dump the envelope onto my counter. I pick out the essentials and toss them into a clutch.
I turn to see Luke staring at the dead plants. “What—” he gestures.
“I like dead things.” I wink and twirl, letting my skirt ride up a little. I mean, can’t hurt to loosen his tongue with a little flirting right?
He trails behind me like a puppy. I smile and lock my door.
“What about your rule about touching?”
I bite my lip and give him a naughty grin. “There’s an exception to every rule, you know. You wanna be my exception?” I start down the stairs. I glance up. He’s practically salivating. Good. Yay. Oh my. His face. Those burning blue eyes. I better be careful, or I’ll be salivating too and this fake date will turn into a very real date. A very dangerous date. For both of us.
I turn away to catch my breath. Damn. It’s been way too long since I played the field if I can’t control myself around murder suspects. “Where are we headed?” I gesture down the street, where streetlights outshine the stars. A couple of neighbors, gremlins with a crying kid, wave as they walk by.
“You’re fae, yeah?” Luke gestures to the blue jewel on my chin.
I nod.
“I thought we’d do something for that sweet tooth, then. Wendel’s is supposed to have—”
“Cinnamon rolls!” Mmm. I could kiss him. That sounds perfect. Bennett used to take me to Wendels whenever I was having a bad day. It’s the world’s cutest fifties diner.
“You know them?”
“They are the epitome of drenched-in-butter happiness! I think you chose well, fang boy.”
He smiles.
I smile. Shit. Focus. You’re a spy. A spy. I take a deep breath, then take his arm as we start to walk to our destination. I have to tell my vamp panic-meter to calm down. It’s not really touching. It’s through leather. It’s fine. We’re on a busy street. I need him comfortable. I’m pretending to be normal. Deep breath. Deep deep breath.
“Rule one. I touch you only.”
He nods. “Whatever you want.” He opens his mouth to ask, but I cut him off.
“Not ready to talk about it yet.” Not eager to share that my blood could humanize him in case he happens to be a crazy killer who has a wish list of victims in his sock drawer. Don’t want him draining me in order to make that job easier. I want him to think whatever happened to Georgina was a pure freak-of-nature accident.
“Okay, need a fun fact about you.” It’s my fave first date game.
"What's a fun fact?"
"Okay I'll start. Fun fact: when I was fifteen my mom hired a witch to curse me so that I cannot actually ever curse out loud. She thought it wasn't ladylike."
"Seriously? That sounds pretty awful."
"Oh it was. Imagine being a teenager with all that pent-up rage and all I could call my mother was son of a beached whale. So not cool when everybody's laughing at you and you're really ticked and then it just makes you wanna laugh. Which makes you even more mad."
“Did you ever get the curse lifted?”
I shake my head. “Tried. Can’t. I have a little arsenal of newbie curses. I can say things like mofo. Eff. All the texty acronyms. But the closest I can get to some are shizzle.”
"I don’t know how I can top that. Okay… Fun fact about me. I've been a vamp for eighty years, I've lived in Tres Lunas for sixty-five of those years, I worked down at the shipyard—"
I interrupt. "No no no. Those are not fun facts. Those are the opposite of fun facts. Those are boring facts. Try again."
"You want something embarrassing, don't you?"
I stop walking and wait until he reluctantly stops and turns to face me. My grin is the size of Montana. "Oh, yes I do. And by the look on your face, it's going to be a good one."
Luke bites his lip and looks totally delicious. He sighs. "Alright. I like ... smelling food."
I shrug. "Who doesn't?"
He turns so we start walking again. "Most vamps try to shed as much of their humanity as possible. You know, embrace the power, get rid of human weakness."
“Wow. Wait. So, like guilty pleasure scale, how bad are you?” I glance over. If a vamp could blush, I think Luke would be blushing. “OMG.” I lean in. “Is it like a fetish?”
“No. Not. Not quite.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“I said no.”
“You’re lying!”
“Your turn,” he’s gruff.
“Specific foods or any food? Like standard drizzled chocolate or more crazy? Like if I covered myself in cookie dough?”
His shakes his head and won’t maintain eye contact. “Your turn,” I said.
I giggle. “This is by far the best game of fun facts I’ve ever played. And I had someone confess to me once that he went through a streaking phase. Like he loved half-shifting and flying naked past the neighbors.”
“Frat bat-shifter?”
I laugh. “Something like that.” I hope Bennett’s listening in with his co-workers right now. And I hope that made him really uncomfortable. It still doesn’t make up for what he did to me. Not by a long shot. I decide he needs to be a little more uncomfortable, since Luke and I are still a block away from the restaurant.
“So, I have a problem and I need some male advice.”
“The problem you had earlier this evening?”
“Georgina Knight’s murder?” I gauge his face carefully as I say this. I’m not an expert, but I think he looks sad. “N
o. Not that. I don’t even know where to start with that.”
He sighs. “Me either.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Did you know her?”
He nods. “We dated a while ago.”
“Oh.” Well, that’s a way more honest answer than I expected. But then, you can’t exactly hide dating someone can you? “I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “We weren’t a match.”
I lean in and whisper, “She wasn’t a foodie?”
He gives a half-laugh. “Definitely not.”
I wink. “Lucky thing I am.”
His eyes glint in the moonlight. “I hope so. So, what’s your problem?”
“An ex problem.”
Luke’s eyebrows shoot up.
“This guy is stalking me.”
“Have you called the police?”
I sigh. “Not like provable stalking.”
We turn a corner and Wendel’s is there. You can smell the deliciousness from outside. It doesn’t even need a sign. In a town full of were animals with keen noses, the smells coming from this place are better than flashing neon. Cinnamon rolls early. Barbeque later. And strawberries if you get there just before dawn and they’re making homemade jam. Sometimes I sit out on the curb and just inhale. (For a minute. Before I go in to stuff my face.)
We walk in. It’s not midnight yet so there’s no lunch crowd. The typical fifties black and white tiles decorate the floor. Red booths line the room. A giant glass-faced bakery display tempts everyone in line to add four hundred calories to their order.
But my favorite are the posters. Wendels has posters of all the monster movies that came out in the fifties. Dracula. Creature from the Black Lagoon. The Mole People. There’s nothing funnier than seeing what humans think we look like. Edging the posters are polaroids of customers mocking the poses. Vamps pretending to be Dracula … you get the idea.
Luke and I are silent while we’re in line. But it’s not awkward. Which in itself is weird. Shouldn’t I feel more uncomfortable? I just met this guy. Bennett thinks he might be a murderer. I should be on edge, right? But it feels like we’re old friends. Do I have broken bad-guy radar? Or is he so hot that the wires in my brain have literally short circuited? I have no idea but staring at him out of the corner of my eye is so frickin’ enjoyable.
