by Jane Hinchey
His nose wrinkled. “They are dead. I don’t drink dead blood. I’m not that uncouth.”
My eyebrows shot up. Didn’t know drinking dead blood was uncouth but there you go. You learn something new every day. Alfred looked to be one hundred years old, which probably meant he was closer to five hundred, if not more. Only the strongest of supernatural creatures could stop the aging process and eventually become immortal. Which meant everyone in the Bewildered Retirement Home was not particularly powerful. But were they powerful enough to cast a death-dealing spell?
“Are you responsible for their deaths, Alfred? Go on a bit of a binge drinking session and lose control, accidentally killing your friends?” It was a long shot, considering I’d found no evidence of Vampire bites. Alfred stiffened and ran his fingers down the lapels of his very fine suit.
“Absolutely not,” he sniffed. “I am adequately fed. The nutritionist visits daily.”
I glanced at Banks. Was the nutritionist feeding Alfred? As in, letting him bite her? Before I could ask, Alfred had spun on his heel and strode out of the room, his long legs moving impossibly fast for a man his age.
Making a mental note to ask Eva about the Vampire, I picked up Banks and left the Waiting Room, not wanting to hang around Claude, Irving, and Janet any longer than I had to. Their souls had already departed; there was nothing more to be gained here.
Back in the sitting room, I found Jax holding court once more, notebook and pen in hand as he made his way around the room, questioning the residents. Only I wasn’t sure he was getting any valuable intel, given the women were all flirting with him and the men wanted to make friends. Me? I just wanted to smack him in the head for ghosting me. Grinding my teeth, I deliberately turned my back. Spotting Daisy the Earth Sprite, along with Clarence the Wombat Shifter, Alfred the Vampire, and three other residents I’d yet to meet all huddled together around a table in the corner, I headed their way.
They lapsed into silence as I approached, and my spidey senses kicked off, a shiver running down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck standing upright. Something was amiss. Banks wriggled in my arms, and I placed him on the floor, thinking he’d approach the group and do some sleuthing of his own. Darn traitor turned tail and headed straight for Jax!
“Hey, everyone,” I greeted with fake enthusiasm. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have some questions if that’s okay?”
“We’ve already said everything we have to say to that other guy.” Daisy jerked her head in Jax’s direction.
“I’d prefer to ask my own questions,” I grumbled, snagging a chair and dragging it up to the table. “Starting with you, Daisy. I’ll need your name and species, please, and where you were between midnight and breakfast.”
Daisy rolled her eyes, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “Gah, I suppose if it’ll get you lot out of here faster, then sure, I’ll play. My name is Daisy McGubbins, I’m an Earth Sprite, and I was in bed asleep. Alone.”
I nodded and turned my attention to the stocky man next to her.
“Clarence, Wombat Shifter, and let me see, after storytime, I went to sleep.”
I nodded and looked to the woman next to him.
“Peggy, Fury Harpy. After storytime, I went to sleep too.”
“Elliot, Bog Dragon, I skipped storytime and went straight to sleep.”
“Eileen, Flaming Dwarf, after storytime, I went to sleep.”
“Alfred, Glacial Nightwalker, and as delightful as storytime is, I too abstained last night.”
“Dot the Slayer,” the woman who’d almost beamed me with the broom said. “I think I watched Gilligan’s Island re-runs all night.”
Daisy rolled her eyes again and shook her head. “You’re not Dot the Slayer. You’re an Elf.” Daisy looked at me, twirling her index finger by her temple. “Ignore Dot. She’s a little doo-lally.”
“You all seem to give yourself… colorful… titles. Dot the Slayer. A Fury Harpy. Bog Dragon. Flaming Dwarf. Glacial Nightwalker. Why not just say you’re a Vampire?”
“Storytime.” They all said in unison.
I was confused. “What does storytime have to do with anything?”
“Some residents partake of storytime, and others don’t. I, for one, do not.” Daisy sniffed and looked disdainfully around the table. “But Clarence likes to spend storytime with Eileen, while Peggy spent it with Irving.” She quickly crossed her chest at the mention of their dead friend.
I turned my attention to Peggy, who’d gone as white as her hair. “So, you spent storytime with Irving the night before he died? What was the story?”
A tide of red crept up her neck and over her face, so bright I feared she’d catch fire. The sniggers around the table had me puzzled. Folding my arms over my chest, I studied each of them in turn. “Okay. What gives?” I asked.
They howled with laughter. Sitting back in my chair, I waited. Eventually, they composed themselves, and it was Daisy who dropped the bombshell. Wiping away moisture from beneath her eyes, she chuckled. “Storytime isn’t storytime, if you know what I mean.”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t know what you mean. If storytime isn’t reading from a book, what is it?” And then I caught on. The furtive glances around the table, the flushed cheeks, cheeky grins, and giggles. “Oh my Goddess, do you mean sex?”
Clarence leaned toward Daisy and stage whispered loud enough for the entire room to hear, “She’s quick, ain’t she?”
I held up a hand. “Wait, wait, let me get this straight. So, you, Peggy,” I pointed at her, “were sleeping with Irving, the dead Warlock?”
She nodded.
“And what about the others? Was Claude spending storytime with anyone?”
“Oh, Janet was with Claude,” Dot piped up, head bobbing. “A Flaming Dwarf and a Water Sprite make for a steamy pairing.”
“Or a soggy one,” Alfred said, deadpan.
I looked around the table. “Who is with who?”
Clarence pointed to Eileen, who threw him a wink. I did not want to think about these old, wrinkled bodies having sex, but then again, a part of me was a little bit proud that they even had the energy and inclination. Who was I to disparage it? Hell, at least they were getting some. I was a big fat zero on that front.
“Let me make sure I have this straight. So, it’s Clarence and Eileen, Peggy and Irving, and Claude and Janet. Anyone else? Daisy, do you have a storytime partner?”
She snorted. “I have no need for storytime. I have my garden.”
“Don’t you mean Flora’s garden?” Dot jeered.
“It is not Flora’s garden.” Daisy bristled, shoulders back, sitting ramrod straight in her chair. “The committee agreed.”
Dot leaned toward me. “Despite what the committee says, it really is Flora’s garden,” she stage whispered.
Daisy crossed her arms and compressed her lips into a thin line, clearly unhappy with the idea of having to share the garden. I cocked my head and watched as she glared at Dot. Was she angry enough to sabotage the garden by planting residents in it? But then, as an Earth Sprite, I’d imagine that would be a blasphemous act.
“Who do you think killed your friends?” I asked, deciding I’d just throw it out there and see what stuck.
“Oh, that’s easy,” Dot said. “I did.”
There was a hushed silence, and then all hell broke loose, each of them confessing they were the killer. The noise attracted Jax, who hurried over.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Arrest them all,” I deadpanned. “They just confessed to murder.”
His brows shot up. “All of them?”
They were all nodding like bobbleheads and grinning manically like this was the best game in the world. I stood up, tucking my chair beneath the table.
“Dementia?” Jax asked.
I narrowed my eyes and surveyed the seven residents of the Bewildered Retirement Home. They all stared back at me with innocent expressions. I didn’t buy for a minute that they all had demen
tia, nor did I believe they were all guilty of murder. Which meant one thing. They were covering for the killer. Whoever he, or she, was.
4
“Midnight, wait!” Jax followed me out of the living area and down the corridor. I was on the search for coffee. Lots of it. Banks was a big hit with the oldies and had elected to stay behind and bask in the attention, which meant I was on my own. Or had been until Jax decided to follow me.
Of course, I ignored him and kept on walking. Goddess only knew why Bounty had sent both of us on this assignment. While the murders were definitely curious, I’d hardly put them in the category of dark magic. This case could easily have been handled by the SIA. The mere thought that I was being manipulated, yet again, and probably by Baba Yaga, had my blood boiling. I stomped down the hallway, my search for coffee becoming more desperate with each passing second. I was all turned around, the Bewildered Retirement Home a labyrinth of corridors and passageways.
“Midnight, please.” Jax caught up. No wonder, given his long legs. He matched those magnificent legs to my much shorter ones, keeping pace beside me, and for some reason, that made me mad too.
Grabbing my arm, he forced me to a halt. “Stop,” he demanded. With his fingers clamped around my upper arm, I did the only thing possible. I punched him in the face. Well, let’s just say I tried to. Be damned if he didn’t have moves of his own, and before I knew it, the two of us were tussling in the hallway. Punches were thrown and dodged, and kicks were deflected until I was hot and sweaty and not in a good way.
Air heaved in and out of my lungs as I struggled to catch my breath. Man, I was so unfit. Unlike Jax, who was dancing around on the balls of his feet like he could do this all day. A drop of sweat rolled into my eye, stinging. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and peered at Jax, who, much to my consternation, looked as fresh as a daisy. I was pretty sure I was a bright red, dripping sweaty mess. Exactly the look I was going for.
Sensing I was tiring, or more likely, seeing it, Jax took advantage, pushing me back against the wall with minimal effort and resting his forearm across my throat with precisely zero pressure.
“Are you done yet?” he asked, one brow raised. “Cos I can keep going.”
“I’m done,” I grunted, puffing to catch my breath. Jax removed his arm from across my throat and leaned against the wall, crowding me. My heart did a little somersault in my chest, but then that was hardly surprising given the cardio workout I’d just given it. Probably having a heart attack, and here I was, staring into the ever so green eyes of one Silver Fox and forgetting my own name. I sighed.
“I’m guessing this is about Rhalanise Bayou?” he asked.
“Why would you think that?” I schooled my features, shutting him out, hiding the hurt his rejection had caused. That he could stand here so casually as if it were nothing was yet another jab to my ego.
“I thought we’d left things on good terms, but the way you’re giving me the cold shoulder tells me I’m mistaken.”
“Good terms?” I choked on the words. “Good terms!” How on earth did he think ghosting someone meant you were on good terms?
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t make our rendezvous. I rang and left a message at the hotel that I couldn’t make it. You didn’t reach out, so I figured you’d decided it was a bad idea after all, and,” he shrugged, “I got on with things.”
“You left a message at the hotel?” I’d been staying at the Ruby Crescent Hotel and Spa at the time and had received no message from Jax. “Why not call me?”
“This is embarrassing,” he admitted, dropping his arm and taking a step back. I instantly missed his warmth, then mentally kicked myself for feeling that way. “My phone was compromised.”
I frowned. “Compromised? What does that mean?”
“It was stolen. And because it was a work phone, the NOPD shut it down. So, I lost your number. But I knew you were staying at the Ruby Crescent, so I called from another phone and left a message apologizing that I couldn’t make it but asking you to call me at my new number, so we could reschedule. You never called.”
“I didn’t get the message.” Relief that he hadn’t received the where are you text messages was the silver lining in this whole shit show. But something else about his story bothered me. “Explain to me how your phone being stolen—you can tell me exactly how that happened in a minute—automatically meant you couldn’t keep our date?”
He shifted from one foot to the other and ran a hand around the back of his neck, looking decidedly shifty and uncomfortable. My curiosity was more than piqued. He sucked in a deep breath, raised his head, and looked me dead in the eye. “I was car jacked. After leaving Rhalanise Bayou on the outskirts of New Orleans, there was a body on the road. I stopped to investigate.”
“It was a ruse?”
Lips clamped together, he nodded. My spidey senses had not settled, and I just knew there was more to this story than he was letting on.
“So, you got out of your car, approached the body, and… what? They jumped up and ran away while someone else jacked your car?”
“Not quite.”
I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. “What, then? Just tell me! Because all this time, I thought you ghosted me.”
He froze. “You thought I’d do that?”
I snorted. “You have to agree we hardly know each other. All I knew was that we’d agreed to meet up, and you didn’t show. I called. I texted. Nothing. I’m a big girl. I can take a hint, you weren’t interested. I got it.” You’d have to be deaf to miss the hurt in my voice, and I cursed myself up one side and down the other for revealing my vulnerability to him.
To my utter surprise, he cupped my face in his hands and brought his face in close, so close I could feel his breath on my lips as he spoke. “I would never, ever, stand you up.”
“But you did.” I pouted.
“Not intentionally. I thought you’d gotten my message.”
“Who did you speak to?”
“I don’t know. Some guy.”
Probably Rakim, the Dwarf bellboy who happened to be married to Elvira, the receptionist. But enough of that, what was done was done. Still, I filed it away in the back of my mind that if I ever revisited the Ruby Crescent, I’d be having a stern chat with Rakim about the importance of forwarding on messages.
“Tell me about the car-jacking. The truth.”
“It’s not important.” He was dancing around the subject, which told me it was juicy, and he didn’t want me to know the details. Of course, that just made me want to know all the more, and if there’s one thing that’s true about Midnight Alden, it’s that she’s one tenacious Witch.
“It is to me.” I ducked out from beneath his embrace and stood several feet away. “If you don’t want to tell me, I’ll just contact NOPD and get the story. Or you can tell me yourself. Either way, I’m going to find out.”
“Okay, fine. It was a Vampire attack.” I tried not to show my shock that he’d fallen for such an obvious ploy. “I was distracted, my mind on…other things… and yes, I know, it was a rookie mistake leaving my vehicle without a weapon. But there was a body in the road, so I stopped, and as I approached, she jumped up and went for my throat. While I was busy fighting her off, they took my vehicle.”
I cocked my head. “She bit you? You were hurt?”
“I was shot.”
His words echoed in my head. “Shot?” I squeaked. “Silver?”
He nodded.
“Jax,” I breathed, taking a step toward him, then stopping. “You could have died.”
“Almost did,” he said under his breath. But I heard. All this time, I’d hated on him for ghosting me, and he’d been fighting for his life. Now I felt awful. I swallowed, my throat tight. “You’re okay now, though?”
His smile was forced. “I’m one hundred percent okay, fully healed.”
“Is that why you joined Bounty? Because NOPD got mad that you’d been jacked?”
He shook his head. �
�I needed to disappear. It was a targeted attack. My role in the Paranormal Division of NOPD was untenable.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone had it in for me. When I survived the attack, they went after my friends.”
I clasped my hand over my mouth to stifle the gasp. “They killed your friends?”
“No, it didn’t get to that. Just threats, break-ins, that type of thing.”
I dropped my hand from my mouth and considered him. “You don’t strike me as the type of person who would run away from such a situation. You’re the type of guy who’d hunt those bastards down and put an end to it.” And then I realized that’s precisely why he’d left the New Orleans Police Department. He couldn’t do what he needed to do within the confines of the law. “Oh.”
His grin was sheepish. “Just so happens I’d recently run into a Magical Bounty Hunter, and I figured it could be a way for me to see her again.”
“You took the job so you could see me?” I blinked rapidly, struggling to come to terms with what he’d just said.
He shrugged. “Partly. And partly to find the vamps who’d targeted me.”
I cocked my head, considering him. “You asked to be put on this assignment, didn’t you? But how did you know I’d be assigned it?”
His smirk told me everything. “Baba Yaga,” I fumed. Conniving, interfering Witch.
“How about you and I solve this case, then maybe we can get back to that date?” Jax suggested.
“Yes, for solving the case. As for the date? We’ll see.” I’d spent weeks hating on him, and despite him having a perfectly reasonable excuse—getting shot was up there as one of the best—I found I couldn’t switch gears that easily. Plus, another niggly thought had intruded when Jax was telling me his story. He was in danger. Someone was after him, wanted to do him harm, had almost succeeded in killing him. Could I risk it all again? After my fiancé, Mason had died in a car accident with my mom three years ago, I wasn’t sure I could open my heart up and take another chance at love.
Then I laughed at myself. Who was even talking about love? How about a bit of fun between the sheets and leave the love stuff to the younger crowd? Having successfully talked myself out of that scenario, I beamed at him and waved my hand in a flourish. “Shall we?”
