The Slaughtered Lamb Bookstore and Bar (Sam Quinn Book 1)

by Seana Kelly

  Moving closer, I looked inside. Another chandelier, mirrors, built-in wooden shelves and drawers, as well as bars for hanging clothes, I was pretty sure the closet was bigger than my apartment. There were clothes in the closet, too.

  “Is this someone’s room?”

  “Yours. I thought I’d made that clear.” The mocking tone made me smile.

  Pointing to the clothes, I raised my eyebrows in question.

  “Again, yours.” It was there and gone in a minute, but I’d seen it. Clive was uncomfortable.

  “My clothes are stuffed in my backpack.” I’d agreed to come ten minutes before we arrived. How were there clothes for me in the closet?

  “Yes. These are just a few things. I wanted you to be comfortable, to have what you needed. That’s all.” He stuffed his hands in his perfectly draped trousers.

  “I can’t tell if this is sweet or super creepy. Are there panties in there?”

  He threw up his hands and walked out of the bathroom. “I have no idea. I asked that items be picked up for you, so you’d understand you were welcome. It isn’t as though I picked out your underthings.”

  “Whew, that’s a relief.” I followed him out, tickled by his discomfort.

  “I’ll leave you to bathe and prepare for bed.” He glanced around the room, as though checking to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be. “I have a meeting downstairs. If you need anything, use that phone by your bed. Dial 0. Someone should always be manning the phones. Ask for Russell. He’ll come help you.” He reached out and cupped my face with one hand, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “It makes me very happy to have you here.”

  Grinning, I squeezed his wrist. “Thanks.”

  He held my gaze a moment, expression unguarded, and then he left. I watched him go, and then grabbed my backpack and returned to the bathroom. After a ridiculously luxurious shower, with multiple shower heads and a steam bath, I opened my backpack and pulled out the sweats I slept in. They’d always seemed good enough before, but now, sitting on a marble counter, they looked sad.

  Tightening the bath sheet I’d wrapped around myself, fresh from the warming rack, I wandered into the closet. Telling myself I was only curious, I opened a drawer. Bras and panties in a rainbow of colors were lined up in neat rows. I wondered whose job that was. I checked the sizes and was disconcerted to see they were correct.

  “Okay, I guess I’m doing this.” I dried off and pulled on a pair of blue panties. When in Rome and all that. I opened another drawer and found a set of sea-green silk pajamas. I said an internal apology to my crappy sweats before donning them. I felt like an idiot playing dress up, but they were lovely and who would know?

  I locked the door because, well, vampires, turned out the light, and climbed into the sumptuous bed. I considered closing the draperies around the bed so my Hogwarts fantasy would be complete, but I couldn’t get past the thought of being pulled into a vision and no one knowing. If Clive stopped in after his meeting, I wanted him to know I was trapped, to see me slack-jawed and staring into space. Not that slack-jawed was a good look for me.

  The visions were horrific. I’d had some success veering from the path they wanted me on, but it wasn’t enough. If I couldn’t get myself out, I at least wanted some control over what happened to me in them. Clive had a huge library downstairs. Maybe he had something on lucid dreaming or strengthening the mind.

  Positive I could find the library again, I went to my door, unlocked it, and ducked my head out. Silence. I waited a few minutes just to make sure. I’d need to make it down two flights of stairs without anyone noticing. I wasn’t too optimistic. Checking to make sure my pajama top was buttoned up to the collar, I headed out.

  Barefoot, I padded silently down the hall to the top of the stairs. Nothing. I jogged down a flight and then stopped to assess again. Still nothing. Where the hell was everyone? Tiptoeing down the last flight, I slowed as the stairs opened to the foyer. That butler guy James was probably lurking somewhere close.

  Deciding sprinting was the better strategy, I ran for it. Down the last steps, around the corner, down the hall and through the double doors. I held my breath as I closed them quietly behind me. Waiting, I listened intently for any sound. Nothing.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned to the library. Moonlight illuminated much of the room, and I had excellent night vision, so even as I reached for the light switch, I thought better of it. I didn’t want to call attention to myself.

  I walked to the shelves, looking for books on psychology. I eventually found them on the second level. It was a huge section, which made sense considering how much vampires like to screw with people’s heads. I found two titles related to lucid dreaming. I grabbed both before descending the spiral staircase to the library’s main floor. There were chairs and a sofa, but I went straight back to the window seat. I found the copy of Jane Eyre lying right where I’d left it last time. Clive promised he’d leave her be. I couldn’t explain why, but it tightened my throat to find her waiting for me.

  Climbing into the window seat, I found a throw to snuggle under, and then I began to thumb through the books, looking for strategies on taking control while dreaming. Unfortunately, most of what was written didn’t apply to what was happening to me. I was skimming a chapter on mapping the mind when I heard the doorknob turn. Adjusting the curtain, I tucked my feet under me, effectively hiding myself. As long as no one walked over here, I wouldn’t be seen.

  “What room is she in?” The voice, a low, angry hiss, made me flinch.

  “Blue.” A different voice said.

  “Well, isn’t that cozy?” Disdain dripped from his words.

  “Why now, when we have guests? I overheard one of their nocturne talking with their human assistant about our Master’s dirty little secret.”

  “He’s obsessed with the dog.”

  Shit. Shivering in the sudden cold, I looked over my shoulder. The window at my back looked out over the moonlit garden. I peered into the night, searching for movement, and was distracted by the waxing moon. It was almost time.

  “He’ll make us a laughingstock.”

  “Worse. They’ll think we’re weak. Ripe for attack.”

  They were quiet for a moment, footsteps moving from the door. Moon at my back, enemies at the fore, I shivered, the feel of fur bristling under my skin. No, no, no. Changing would take time and make noise. I’d be vulnerable to the ones who wanted to hurt me. That was not an option. Hands fisted on my thighs, I pushed the wolf down.

  “We have to save him from himself.”

  The voices were closer now. Tucking the blanket and book behind me, I readied myself to fight.

  “He’s meeting with Santiago in the study. Do we do this here, when it’s obvious it was one of us?”

  “We stage it, so it doesn’t look like one of our kills.”

  “Why not just snatch her while he’s distracted. We can dump the body where no one will find it.”

  A cold sweat broke out across my chest. How easily they plotted my death, and for no other reason than the embarrassment of Clive caring for a werewolf.

  “I’m sick of thinking about the mongrel.”

  “We need to be seen going downstairs. No one was informed ahead of time that she was coming, so it’s plausible we didn’t know she was here. We make sure we’re seen going into our rooms, and then we take the servants’ stairs up. With the visitors to entertain, no one may even notice us.”

  Sharp pain in my palm. I unclenched my hands and watched my nails transform. Short, unvarnished nails were thickening and lengthening to points. Claws. I’d never transformed early, never. What was happening to me?

  “If he discovers it was us, it’ll mean our permanent death.”

  “Then we better not get caught.”

  The door opened and closed with a quiet snick. Staring at the claws shooting out from my hands, I felt revulsion. I was a human or I was a wolf, not both at the same time. Was this what it was going to be like witho
ut my mother’s necklace to dampen the wolf? Would I sprout fur when I got angry?

  Horrified, I felt shame as I hadn’t since I’d first turned, since my body had been taken out of my control. When I ran as a wolf, I made sure I was alone. I stalked deer and hunted rabbits alone. I hadn’t had to reconcile that part of me because I hadn’t had to share it. Everyone knew I was a werewolf, and yet I was still a secret.

  Now, in a nocturne of vampires, I had weapons to defend myself. I should feel powerful and ready to fight. I knew that. But staring at my claws, all I felt was stomach-nauseating shame, my otherness glaring. I didn’t want anyone—especially Clive—to see them, to see me as less than human.

  Twenty-Five

  Mind the Claws, Darling

  Where to go? What to do? I tapped my claws on the edge of the bench. The blue room was out of the question, unless I was looking to throw down with a couple of vampires. I could just walk out the front door and run for it, but I was barefoot in pajamas and I’d lost the protective cuff Coco had given me. My own mind wasn’t safe or fully my own.

  Moving silently across the darkened library, I opened the door, holding it ajar. I slowed my breathing and stilled my thoughts, listening intently. There. Clive’s voice, coming from down the hall. He’d told me to call for Russell if I’d needed help, but as there were at least two vampires in the house trying to kill me, it seemed wiser not to let them know where I was.

  Waiting, sure I was alone, I closed the library door after me and flew down the hall. Two seconds from door to door. I didn’t breathe until I was in the room where I’d heard Clive’s voice, my back against the door.

  There was a moment of charged silence and then, “Sam? Is something wrong?” Clive was sitting behind a desk, a blue-suited man across from him.

  The man turned. He had black hair and eyes, olive skin, and an arrogant set to his handsome face. “Well, who have we here?”

  Clive stood. “Sam is one of my people. If you’ll excuse me a moment. I’ll take care of this.” He glided around the desk and made straight for me.

  The other man stood, too. “Strange. She doesn’t smell like one of us.” His tone was smug as he looked me up and down.

  “I am Master of this city. They are all my people,” Clive said, his expression carved in stone.

  “Yes, of course.” The man walked toward us, clearly not intending to give us a private moment to talk. “Is this the scarred little wolf I’ve heard so much about? I must admit,” he added. “She’s more casually dressed than I would have expected for someone requesting an audience with the Master.” Smirking, he leaned against the wall next to me. “Love the jammies.”

  Standing stiffly, I ignored him, my gaze on Clive, my hands balled at my sides, claws hidden. “I apologize for interrupting, but it’s important.”

  The other man reached out a finger and ran it over my shoulder. “Silky,” he breathed.

  My jaw tightened, teeth elongating in my mouth. I slid my eyes to the vampire, assessing the threat. I wanted his blood between my teeth. I wanted it very much. A deep growl filled the room.

  “Santiago, I’d suggest you step back. I’d hate for a visitor to have his head severed from his body.” He looked down at the floor. “And I’m rather partial to this rug.”

  The vampire snapped to attention, his focus on Clive. “You dare to threaten me? Me?”

  Clive’s eyebrows lifted. “I’m not threatening anyone at the moment. I’m also not the one whose personal space you’ve invaded, nor the one you’re touching without consent. I would think, given the reputation you say you have, you’d have noticed the six-inch claws, the mouth distended by a wolf’s teeth, and the warning growl. Clearly, the one you should be worried about is the one in the silk jammies. Now, as Sam is at her breaking point, and I’d prefer you left the city alive, I’ll ask you again to please excuse us.”

  Santiago’s eyes flew to my hands. He stepped away with a forced laugh. “Fine. Fine. Take your time.” He pulled out a phone and dropped back into his chair.

  Clive ushered me out of the office and into the next door down the hall, which turned out to be a bathroom. I looked up. Yep, chandelier. His decorator really had a thing for them.

  “What’s happened?” Clive bent his head, trying to make eye contact but I was looking everywhere but at him, mortified he’d seen the claws, the misshaped jaw.

  “I—” The word came out slurred, my mouth contorted. Tears rushed to my eyes, and I turned away from him.

  He leaned in, his lips at my ear. “It’s okay. Talk to me.”

  I tried again, speaking as slowly and clearly as possible. “I was in the library. Two vampires came in. They didn’t see me. They started talking about which room I was in, how I was an embarrassment that made you look weak. They’re planning to attack me in the blue room, kidnap me while you talk to that vampire, and leave my dead body someplace you’ll never find.” There was spittle on my lip. Cringing, I raised a hand to wipe it away and then remembered the claws.

  “Sam.” He turned me around and took my hands in his, lifting them to his lips. “You’re beautiful, but more importantly, you’re strong.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “A fierce warrior.”

  I chuffed a laugh. “Right. A fierce warrior who hides in window seats and reads Brontë.”

  He leaned in and kissed my neck. “My favorite kind.”

  “So,” I breathed. “Are we just ignoring the death threats?”

  “No, indeed. Russell is taking care of them right now.” He kissed his way down my throat.

  “How? It just happened. How does he know?” It was becoming very difficult to concentrate on killer vamps.

  “I can communicate telepathically with my people.”

  I smacked his shoulders. “Get out!”

  “I won’t,” he said, before nibbling on an earlobe.

  “But then why the phone, the talking out loud?” Shit! Did that mean he could read my mind?

  Leaning away, he took off his charcoal gray suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. “It doesn’t do to show off.”

  Giggling, I shook him. “Tell me the truth. Can you really do that?”

  “Mind the claws, darling, and yes. When you told me what you’d overheard, I sent Russell up to your room to wait for them.”

  “Won’t he need help?” I didn’t want Russell getting hurt on my account.

  “The day my second can’t handle two vampires is the day I need a new second.” He kissed my cheek softly. “Please don’t worry.” He tipped his head to the side, his gaze drifting. “Anton and Michael. How very disappointing.”

  “They said you’d kill them if you caught them.” Please, let that have been hyperbole.

  “So, they’re not complete morons.” He caught my look. “I can’t allow two of my people to conspire against me. They not only disregarded my order to protect you, they actively tried to hurt you. No. I’m sorry if it causes you concern, but they will not survive this night.” A few minutes later, Clive leaned around me to open the bathroom door.

  “Sire. They are downstairs awaiting you.” Russell stood in the doorway.

  “Thank you.” He glanced at me, presumably to make sure I’d heard him say ‘thank you.’ I guess that racist twat comment really got to him. “Could you please escort Ms. Quinn back to the library to get a book and then to her room.” He sighed. “I’m afraid you would’ve been safer and enjoyed more sleep if we’d left you in your bookstore.”

  “That’s what I said!”

  Grinning, he kissed my forehead and stepped out of the bathroom. “Russell, I’m trusting you to protect her.”

  He nodded. “It would be my honor.”

  After Clive left, Russell and I walked down the hall to the library. He hit the lights as I went to retrieve the lucid dreaming books from the window seat. I detoured to the shelves before returning to Russell. I might look at that one on the power of the mind, as well.

  “This used to be a ballroom.
” His voice echoed in the large room.

  I grabbed the book I’d seen earlier, and then turned back to him. “A ballroom?” Looking around the grand library, I tried to picture it and couldn’t. “I thought this was original to the house.”

  His lip twitched. “No, indeed. It was quite the grand ballroom. Very impressive. When the Master—”

  “Quick question,” I interrupted. “Does it bother you to have to call him that?” Because it was making me super uncomfortable.

  A huge grin overtook Russell’s face. I’d never seen him relaxed enough to do that before. “It grated for a century or so.” Chuckling, he leaned back, his ear to the door. “I must admit, I heard you ask Clive if his turning his back on me while I bowed was some colonial racist bullshit and I laughed like hell. On the inside, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  He watched me for a moment, and then, seeming to come to a conclusion, spoke. “You’ve had a good influence on him.”

  Me? “He hardly ever spoke to me before all this let’s-kill-Sam stuff started.”

  Again, he was silent a moment. “Clive doesn’t personally visit the supernatural-owned businesses in town. That’s what he has people for, and they only visit when there’s a problem. Clive went to check on The Slaughtered Lamb.” He smiled. “You. Every month for seven years. He may not have spoken, may not have even appeared to be paying attention, but he was. You have—I don’t want to say soften, because he is every bit as ruthless and powerful as he ever was. He has, though, regained some humanity.”

  Looking around the library, he added, “So the very impressive ballroom was scrapped, and the library installed.” A brilliant smile split his handsome face. “He may not have realized why he’d done it, but it was always clear to me. He was hoping to lure you here with books.”

  I wasn’t sure what to do about that tickled feeling in my chest. “It’s a really good lure.”

  “Isn’t it, though? Come, let’s get you settled in a room not filled with killer vampires.”

  “Yes, please.”