Mrs. Morris and the Vampire

by Traci Wilton

  She covered her mouth with her hand. “Staked to death.”

  “Like a real vampire,” Jack said.

  “I don’t know the cause. Just that the man is dead. Can’t imagine anyone being able to do that to themselves.” Sam drank his coffee and bit into the baklava, then wiped his mouth.

  Murder.

  Alaric had been murdered. Charlene’s head spun.

  “You were there. What did you see? I’m especially interested in Serenity’s relationship with Alaric. Be honest with me, Charlene.”

  Charlene glanced at Jack, who nodded encouragement.

  She sipped the water she’d poured for herself. As Jack had surmised last night, if Alaric didn’t turn up, Serenity would be in trouble. “Sam, I don’t think—”

  “You can’t protect your friends.” Sam held her gaze fast. “The Flints are involved up to their witch brooms.”

  “Have you talked to them?”

  “I sent two officers out already.” Sam shrugged. “You didn’t mention last night that Dru Ormand had shown up, threatening to kill Alaric.”

  Blood drained from her face and she swallowed hard.

  Jack whooshed the embers of the fire. “He wants your help to solve this case.”

  Charlene focused on the detective. “It slipped my mind since Alaric had disappeared. You’re sure that the body is him . . .”

  “I want you to identify it.”

  “Oh!”

  Sam showed her a picture of a man, obviously dead, on his back. In a morgue? She nodded slowly. “Yes.” The man was beautiful even in death.

  “Serenity said the same. We’re waiting on his prints to come back to get his personal information.”

  Charlene bowed her head. “Poor Serenity.”

  “Poor Serenity? Charlene, she could be guilty.” Sam steepled his fingers and stared into the flames.

  “She isn’t!”

  “From all accounts, Alaric was coming on too strong.” Sam eyed her and sat back. “A sexual predator. What if she fought him?”

  Charlene had seen Alaric’s hold on Serenity for herself. Still, would Serenity have killed Alaric? Even in self-defense? Serenity said she loved him. “That can’t be right, Sam.”

  “Brandy, Evelyn, Dru . . .” Sam continued. “They’d all protect her if need be. But if she is guilty, I’ll find out.”

  Her stomach churned.

  Jack watched her from his position by the mantel. “We must discuss what happened. Find out how Alaric left the Hawthorne Hotel and ended up dead, washed up on shore, with a hole in his heart.”

  Sam polished off the baklava, took his water bottle in hand, and stood up. “I appreciate the information and Minnie’s cooking. Thank her for me.”

  “You can thank her yourself if you don’t run off.” Charlene gestured behind her. “She’s changing sheets upstairs.”

  “I will next time.” He gave her a long look that she couldn’t decipher.

  “I just don’t think that Serenity is guilty.”

  “We need facts. There are a lot of unanswered questions about this case.”

  “Sam needs to be on top of this,” Jack said.

  “I understand.” Charlene cleared her throat. “I hope you figure it out soon. You know he’s from New Orleans?”

  “Yes. Be careful. If you hear anything, call me.”

  “I will. And I’d appreciate it if you do the same.”

  Jack snorted.

  Sam opened his mouth, then slammed it shut. Straightening his shoulders, he appeared all of his six-foot-six self. He was a handsome devil. If only he could be a teensy bit more understanding.

  CHAPTER 4

  Around eleven, with her guests all out and the cleaning done, Charlene took her phone to her back porch and sat on the step. Jack had disappeared on her when she’d told him to be nice, so they hadn’t gone over what had happened since Sam left.

  She dialed Brandy’s cell phone number, concerned for Serenity and how she was taking the news of Alaric’s death.

  “Hello?” Brandy’s melodic voice held a hint of heat.

  “Hi, Brandy. It’s Charlene.”

  “I know.”

  Magic?

  “Caller ID.” Brandy scoffed. “You are so easy to read, even across the phone line.”

  Charlene shook her head and laughed. “Got me. You probably know why I’m calling, then.”

  “Serenity is devastated about Alaric,” Brandy confirmed. “She acts like her soul mate was murdered . . . and that can’t be right. They hardly knew each other.”

  Charlene understood losing the love of your life, but she and Jared had years together—not mere weeks. Still. “I’m sorry for her pain.”

  “I didn’t like him, but it’s killing me to hear her sobbing her heart out.”

  “Should we reschedule lunch?” She’d wanted to tell Brandy about Elisabeta and the lover’s triangle, but it didn’t matter now with Alaric dead.

  Brandy hesitated, then asked, “Would you like to come over to the house? I’ll put together some pasta.”

  Charlene had been to the winery a million times in the past year to pick up cases for her home and business, but she’d never been inside the historic mansion where Brandy and Evelyn lived. The place had been in the family for two hundred years.

  “Sure. You need a distraction?”

  “I was hoping you could help, actually.”

  Hair rose on her nape and she asked warily, “Help?”

  “The police have been here already to ask questions, hard questions, about my daughter’s relationship with Alaric. They took Serenity’s statement and warned her not to leave town.”

  “Oh no.” Should she still mention what she’d seen? It could be relevant. If their situations were reversed, she’d want to know. “I overheard Serenity and Alaric arguing last night.”

  “What about?”

  “Alaric wanted her to be one of many women; at least one other—the woman he was dancing with before he disappeared, Elisabeta.”

  “That sleazy bast—”

  “Serenity said no.”

  Brandy sucked in a breath. “That’s my girl.”

  “But then they were dancing . . .”

  “I saw. I saw. Light porn on the dance floor. He had her in thrall and I just don’t understand it. My daughter is strong and powerful in her own right. She doesn’t need a man, especially one so controlling.”

  “Have you asked her about it?”

  “I’m her mother. She’s not talking to me or her grandmother. That’s why I thought you could maybe reach her.”

  “I’d be happy to try.”

  “You’re a lifesaver. How soon can you be here? I’ll shove her in the shower—she’s been sobbing all morning. She didn’t have anything to do with Alaric’s death, but that officer suggested Serenity’s tears could be guilt, not pain. Took all I had not to spell him with herpes.”

  Charlene snapped her jaw shut before she questioned Brandy about whether she could really do that or not.

  She hung up and went to the living room. “Hey, Minnie. I’ll be out for a few hours. Call me if you need anything.”

  “We’ll be fine,” her housekeeper said, singing as she watered the plants.

  Charlene drove the fifteen minutes toward the winery, stopping at the two-story stone building before the shop. She was greeted by two large German shepherds on the stone porch and she scratched their heads. Brandy opened the door, in an emerald sweater and jeans, and ushered her inside.

  Breathing deep of the unusual scent, Charlene asked, “What’s that smell?”

  “Juniper candles and sprays. It’s part of the spiritual new year for Wiccans.”

  “It’s really nice—kind of piney. Did you say new year? But it’s November first.”

  “Samhain is the end of harvest, and today we celebrate the new year as well as honor the dead who have gone before us.” An opal glinted off her forefinger. “It’s known as the Day of the Dead.”

  “That’s wha
t Avery said, but I didn’t get it. Is it a day of reverence for you?”

  Brandy showed her into a living area with a fireplace, cozy couches in dark-brown leather, and assorted tables. A side table in dark wood held more sprays of juniper tied with forest-green bows. Short candles flickered before an array of photographs, some in old frames.

  “Yes. My grandmothers,” Brandy explained. “Each a talented witch and healer. Come meet them.”

  Charlene admired the rows of beautiful women, including the black-and-white pictures. How wonderful to be so connected to your ancestors.

  Brandy picked up a photo dated 1920. “This is Amara—she started the grapes for our pinot noir wine.”

  “She looks like you, or I guess, you look like her.”

  Brandy smiled, pleased, and replaced the photo.

  “Someday my picture will be there too,” Evelyn said, joining them. “And Brandy’s and Serenity’s, and so on.”

  “Not for a long time, Goddess willing. Where is the child?” Brandy asked her mother.

  “On her way down.” Evelyn clasped her hands together. Her ivory linen dress was loose, yet stylish. “Thanks for coming, Charlene.”

  Serenity entered the living room and plopped on the couch. The lovely young lady had splotchy cheeks and wore a robe over fluffy pajamas—dressed for bed despite the hour.

  “I’m going to make an altar for Alaric. Mom said you know what it’s like to lose your heart?” Serenity dabbed at her eyes with a paper tissue, her nose red.

  Charlene sat next to her and patted her arm. “I do. I was married to the love of my life, and then he was killed in a car accident. It isn’t fair.”

  Serenity peeked up at Charlene in sheer misery. “I can’t live without Alaric.”

  Her heart ached. “I remember how difficult it was to find a reason to get up in the morning. I think I spent an entire week in bed, not speaking to anyone.”

  “See?” Serenity glared at her mother.

  Brandy eyed the ceiling, her thick auburn braid over her shoulder.

  Evelyn took a chair across from the sofa. “Darling, we understand love and loss very much. We just don’t understand how you came to be so close in so short a time with Alaric. Help us.”

  Serenity clutched the tissue in her palm, fresh tears streaming from her eyes. “He said that we would be together for eternity.”

  Brandy gritted her teeth. “He was playing you.”

  “He was a real vampire, Mom.”

  “Did you do drugs together?” Brandy demanded.

  “No. Mom! You just don’t understand our connection.”

  Charlene stroked the girl’s forearm to keep her calm. Her emotions were dramatic, yes, but very real. She was only twenty-five and hadn’t yet learned the cruel twists of fate. “Tell me about him. I never got a chance to know him like you.”

  Serenity sniffed and sank back to the couch, drawing her feet up. Black polish dotted her bare toes. “Well, he was amazing, that’s all. Sexy, deep, a real heavy thinker. He loved to philosophize about the world. We were going to bring peace.”

  “Did you believe that he was a vampire right away?” Charlene couldn’t forget how he’d had Serenity under his thumb.

  “No.” She blushed. “We never went out in the day, since he sleeps, but even at night he kept his skin covered. One early morning he showed me the effect the sun had—his skin blistered in seconds. It was very painful for him. He needed blood to heal.”

  “You gave him your blood?” Brandy shrieked. “Do you know how much power is in your veins? You’re a witch that can trace her ancestry back to the 1600s! What were you thinking?”

  “Chill out, Mom! This is why I can’t talk to you.” Serenity buried her head against Charlene’s side.

  “Serenity, love, did you give him your blood?” Evelyn asked in a measured tone.

  “Only once.” Serenity lifted her sleeve to show a faint red line on her wrist. “We were saving it to be most potent, after midnight.”

  “When was this?” Evelyn sat forward.

  Serenity lifted her auburn head. “Yesterday—before the ball. To help with his immortality. He was going to make us all immortal.”

  “Who?” Brandy asked.

  “Me, his queen, and Elisabeta. There were supposed to be two others, but I never met them.” She cried fresh tears.

  Charlene rubbed Serenity’s back, angry on the girl’s behalf. Sam had been right to call Alaric a predator. “How was he going to do it? Did he drink from you?”

  Serenity turned beet red and clasped her wrist. “This was just a taste. I don’t know for sure how, but he said my blood was pure and would aid in the transition.”

  “Transition from human to vampire.” Evelyn’s posture exuded steel and it was a good thing for Alaric that he was already dead, or the Flint women might take matters into their own hands. Charlene would drive the getaway car.

  “He called you his necromancer,” Brandy said. “You planned on raising him from the dead—he was already supposed to be dead.”

  “Well, sort of. He’d been preparing his entire life for this moment, he said. He needed me.” Serenity brushed a tear from her cheek.

  Charlene recalled Alaric’s midnight performance. “What was he trying to prove by disappearing from the ball last night?”

  “I guess he wanted to show the doubters, like that Orpheus dude Mom was dancing with”—she curled her lip at her mother—“that he was a true vampire at the height of his powers.”

  “Why would Orpheus care?” Brandy asked.

  “He leads the vampire coven in New Orleans—he and Alaric had a big fight and Alaric left with hard feelings between them.”

  Brandy recoiled. “Orpheus is not a vampire.”

  Charlene sucked in a breath and stared at her friend. He’d wanted to get in touch with Brandy and Charlene was never more glad that she hadn’t given Orpheus any personal information.

  “Alaric agrees with you.” Serenity sniffed. “He thinks Orpheus was using him to gain power and knowledge.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Brandy crossed her arms. “I suppose Alaric had an aversion to garlic too?”

  Serenity lifted her chin, but the defiance was heartbreaking as a teardrop fell to her lap. “He said it made him physically ill.”

  “Well,” Charlene said in a nonjudgmental way, “his skin blisters in the sun and garlic makes him sick. Like the vampire lore we are familiar with. Did you ever see him drink blood, like, with fangs?”

  Serenity shook her head. “He licked my wrist.”

  “Oh.” Evelyn perched on the edge of her chair, ruddy-cheeked as she listened to her granddaughter.

  “He drank it from a cup.”

  “What?” Evelyn rose and stood next to Brandy, the ladies standing united.

  Charlene patted Serenity’s back. “Where did he get the blood?”

  “Don’t know. He stored it in the refrigerator and warmed it up on the stove, then drank from a mug.” Serenity smirked at her mom and grandmother. “He explained that it isn’t any different than bone broth.”

  “Human blood?” Brandy’s brow arched and her slender nostrils flared. “A great deal different and you know it.”

  “He said he has—had—willing donors.” Her chin wobbled. “Elisabeta for sure, and another guy.”

  Charlene shuddered. Dru had said that Alaric had a fridge full of blood too. “Did he eat any actual food?”

  “Not that I ever saw.” Serenity glanced at Charlene. “I understand that it sounds far-fetched, but I believed him.”

  “Shouldn’t his body have evaporated, then, once he’d been killed?” Evelyn asked. “Straight to ash.”

  “Mother!” Brandy said.

  “What? I happen to like a good horror movie.”

  Serenity burst into more tears. “Alaric was unique—he suffered his whole life, he said. He wanted to live in peace. We were going to travel the world and—”

  “Just you, Alaric, and his other woman?” Brandy j
abbed.

  Serenity winced. “Elisabeta. I didn’t want to share, but . . .”

  “He convinced you?”

  “He died, Mom. Alaric wanted to prove to everyone that he was exactly as he claimed by vanishing. He was supposed to be at his rental house at midnight, but he wasn’t there. Something went horribly wrong.”

  “Is that where you disappeared to after the ball? His house?” Brandy asked hotly. “We were worried sick about you.”

  Serenity tightened her lips and didn’t admit to anything.

  “Why midnight, exactly?” Evelyn asked in a calmer tone.

  “He was drawing the supernatural power from the Day of the Dead with me, a witch with exceptional skills in contacting the other side. I can raise the dead.”

  Charlene’s eyes widened at the young woman’s claim—she wasn’t boastful, just truthful and confident.

  Brandy bristled with emotion. “It is never good to toy with spirits, Serenity. That is Witchcraft 101.”

  “We were going to use my heightened magic and rise again—both of us immortal.”

  Brandy’s mouth was an angry red seam. “You realize that means he was going to kill you, to raise you up?”

  Charlene gasped.

  Serenity turned pale but nodded.

  “And you agreed to this?” Evelyn said.

  “He was going to make me immortal, Grandma. I was going to live forever with him, at his side. Bringing peace.”

  “If there was a spell for immortality, we would know about it. Longer life, yes, not eternal.” Brandy crossed the room to drop to her knees and grip Serenity’s hands. “Sweetheart, it scares me that you would even consider death.”

  “A momentary pain, then rebirth,” Serenity whispered, not looking at her mother.

  “According to Alaric, who is now dead. Dead-dead. Like you would have been, our angels have mercy.” Brandy tucked a lock of Serenity’s hair back. “Who else did you meet besides Elisabeta?”

  “I only met her a few times, Mom. Mostly it was just the two of us.”

  “So he could convince you to do his bidding without outside interference.” Brandy raged.

  “Did you have doubts?” Charlene asked.