Stakes Have Sword Envy

by Holly Ryan

  “There are two other Brotherhood members in this city,” Sawyer said, staring.

  “How near?” Eddie asked.

  Jacek blinked hard as if still blinded. “Who?”

  “And one Brotherhood member protected by the slayer,” I said.

  Three pairs of orange-yellow eyes shifted to me.

  “To the Brotherhood, I am the dark,” I said, pointing to Sawyer’s moon tattoo orbiting the sun. “I am the moon in the night, and the Brotherhood is the light.”

  Sawyer smiled. “And here I thought I was helping to protect you.”

  “You are. But I have this nasty habit of orbiting people.” I shrugged. “It’s what moons do.”

  “Who, besides that guy”—Eddie pointed to Tattoo Guy’s pic on the phone—“are those suns that want to kill my Sunshine?” He glanced at me. “Sorry, but you’re not a moon.”

  I winked at him. “Your favorite celestial object is fine by me.”

  “I don’t know,” Sawyer said, frowning. “There are two more Brotherhood members out there, and since they obviously don’t conduct themselves by the old rules, they could be anyone.”

  “Not vampires,” Jacek said. “But someone who knows witchcraft.”

  Sawyer nodded. “Maybe not even visibly tattooed. The tattoo grew over time when someone declared they’ll help the Brotherhood, which is why that baffles me.” He gestured to the tattoo pic. “His tattoos are only slightly smaller than mine and yet he’s clearly not affected by standing underneath a skylight. He’s not a vampire, but he’s been a member of the Brotherhood for almost as long as I have according to his tattoos. I obviously don’t know as much about the Brotherhood as I thought I did.”

  “Oh, wait,” I said and jumped up to head to my jacket by the front door. “I have Detective Appelt’s business card. I can ask him who this guy in the pic is.”

  “Do you trust Detective Appelt?” Sawyer called after me.

  “Uh...” Did I? I found his business card in one of my jacket pockets, having taken it with me patrolling in case anything happened at the mausoleum. “I mean he gave me my power back, so...” I’d been grateful that he’d trusted me back at the police station, but was that enough to warrant my trust in him? I came back to the table with the card. “I don’t know, honestly. Ours is a complicated relationship, but he does want to keep the trapdoor from opening, so he can’t be too bad.”

  As soon as I pressed send on my question to him, we all stared at my phone, expecting it to reveal the answer immediately like a magic eight ball.

  When nothing happened, Jacek leaned back in his seat. “So what now?”

  “I know what I’m doing.” I rose from my chair again, my tired eyelids threatening to buckle with the need for sleep, and started toward the cupboard to get a clean coffee cup.

  “We need more information,” Sawyer said. “Eddie, as soon as I undo the witch’s ladder at the graveyard and I’m done with my hotline shift, I need all the books on the Necron Brotherhood or anything mentioning them specifically after their destruction.”

  Eddie nodded. “You got it.”

  After filling the cup with blood from the refrigerator, I popped it in the microwave for forty-four seconds. I’d seen my vamps do it enough that I was sure that made it the optimal temperature.

  “Slayer...” Jacek said, coming up beside me and eyeing the microwave. “What are you up to?”

  The microwave beeped, and I pulled the warm mug out. “It’s time to go see a vampire about a sword.”

  I CARRIED SAID SWORD with me to the backyard in case Ronick had forgotten what I was talking about. Actually, I just liked lugging it around. The grooves in the hilt fit my fingers, similar to a well-used stake, and the way light shone on the black blade and the symbols etched there, how it pulsed as if in flight, mesmerized me. Plus, it was a bird-sword, and I’d had a severe lack of bird-swords in my life before now.

  My stakes had a serious case of sword envy. I could just tell.

  While juggling Night’s Fall and the mug of blood, I unlocked the door to the shed. The only light came from behind a glass window in the door of the cell in front of me, twin orange flames that narrowed and darkened to raging fire the longer Ronick glared at me. He was not my biggest fan, but I often wasn’t my biggest fan, either, so we had that in common.

  I flicked the light on by the door, blinking in the soft yellow glow, and moved closer. Then gasped. His face had paled considerably since I’d last seen him, a stark contrast to his facial scruff and his short dark hair. Not only were his eyes red, but the rims were too. Being confined was not a good look for him. Guilt surged in my gut, but I stamped that down real quick. I had nothing to feel guilty about. Yet.

  “I brought you some blood,” I said.

  He lifted an eyebrow, though it appeared like it took some effort. “You clearly have a lot to learn about torture.”

  “You’re right. What was I thinking? And I was just going to give it to you without any threats whatsoever. I guess I’ll just go.” I turned to leave, taking the sword with me, with little intent of actually leaving. A drink of blood might help to perk him up. Yeah, I was not good at this torture business.

  “Wait,” he said when I’d almost made it to the door. “Fuck, what is wrong with you?”

  Blanking my face, I turned. “You mean why was I just going to give you a drink? Are you not thirsty?”

  He hissed through his teeth, and I saw the answer written in his hollowed out cheekbones and the stark desperation behind his eyes.

  Sighing as if this were a huge inconvenience, I stepped closer. “I’m not like you or your brother, if you haven’t already guessed that. I’m not like anyone. I will do what I have to do to get you to transfer Night’s Fall’s power to me so I can find the Slayer Senate so I can find a way to defeat Paul, and I need you not blood-crazed to do that. Hence, the blood. It’s not complicated.”

  He leveled me with a glare. “It’s so much more complicated than you think.”

  “I’m sure I can keep up.” I put the mug on the built-in tray that led to both his cell and the empty one next to his. Once upon a time, it had been meant for Detective Appelt. Since he was currently in a state of limbo, I wasn’t sure he would ever get to see the inside, but given the growing number of people who wanted me dead, we were going to need a bigger woodshed anyway. “Ready?”

  He nodded, eyeing the mug on the tray.

  I shoved the tray through and then to the right. Lucky for him, the tray had a roof to keep the falling rainstorm of holy water out of the mug o’ blood.

  He snatched it out of the tray and cupped it to his mouth with both hands, draining it in a quick succession of swallows. Afterward he sighed and wiped his lips, eyeing me carefully as if I’d rigged an eject button to the blood he’d just drunk.

  I stabbed Night’s Fall into the ground to make my next point. “So...how about this sword, huh?”

  He sank back against the wall and closed his eyes. “I’m not giving you Night’s Fall.”

  “So you’d rather live inside a woodshed with only the occasional drink? Your logic sucks.”

  His eyes snapped open again, two angry fires blazing within. “Not an occasional drink. The one with glasses brings me blood every night.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that your logic still sucks.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “I told you it was complicated.”

  “Then uncomplicate it,” I demanded. “I told you I would do anything to get that sword, so tell me, other than your freedom or Jacek’s life, what do you want in exchange for it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Surely there’s something.”

  “There’s nothing.”

  I tightened my grip around the sword’s hilt, imaging my glare was powerful enough to slice him up into dog food. “What a miserable existence you have. Your only goal is someone else’s death? Does nothing make you happy or—”

  “Death makes me happy,” he snarled.


  “Well, you are an absolute joy. Truly, this has been the highlight of my day, but I can only stand so much highlighting.” I nodded to the mug in his hands. “It puts the mug on the tray or else it gets the holy water hose again.”

  He snapped his gaze to the ceiling of his cell. “What hose?”

  “What hose indeed.” There was no holy water hose, but he didn’t need to know that. I turned toward the woodshed door and opened it. “Night night.”

  “What day is it?” he called. “Or what night is it?”

  I turned back with Night’s Fall propping the door open for me. “It’s early Tuesday morning. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  “Why does that matter?” I demanded.

  “It doesn’t,” he hissed. “I just wasn’t sure how long I’ve been here.”

  Yeah, I didn’t buy that. Not for one second. “Are you a part of the Necron Brotherhood?”

  “No,” he said, his voice low, gaze lethal.

  “Do you have any tattoos?”

  “Do you jump down everyone’s throat who asks you a simple question?”

  “Always,” I said, backing up toward the door. “It’s why I’m still alive.”

  So there was something Ronick cared about—knowing what day of the week it was.

  Which meant something sinister was about to go down.

  Chapter Five

  “We need to strip him naked,” I told Sawyer and Jacek later that morning as I buttoned my jeans in a hurry. I’d collapsed in Sawyer’s bed after my talk with Ronick, so totally done with everything, but I’d only managed a couple hours of sleep. I had an early-morning split shift at The Dream Bean, though, and college classes I was already falling behind on. Pretty sure I had a paper due in my World Lit class today, possibly on one of the Bronte sisters. Or was it Toni Morrison? Hell, I wasn’t even sure what century I was supposed to be in for that class, which was very unlike me.

  “That sounds like a not-me job,” Jacek said, manspreading on the couch. “I can’t promise I won’t shove Ronick’s own cock down his throat hard enough to pop out his eyeballs.” He lifted a hand at Sawyer’s narrowed eyes. “Sorry, I can’t promise I won’t shove Ronick’s own penis down his throat hard enough to pop out his eyeballs.”

  Sawyer handed me my jacket by the front door. His warrior’s body was clad in jeans and a tight black T-shirt, the sun and moon tattoos on his bronze skin back to their normal positions. “Since the Necron Brotherhood is breaking all of their own rules, Ronick may not even have any tattoos to see. My tattoos only let me see who’s near, not who’s nearest, as in the woodshed in the backyard. But I’ll go talk to him, see if I can find out anything.”

  Jacek leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and his eyes flashed. “I’ll help.”

  I aimed a worried glance at Jacek. “Strip him naked if you need to, but try not to hurt him? God, I hate having you guys do all my dirty work, but I have got to go. Can one of you tell Eddie I may need help on a research paper later today?”

  Eddie’s footsteps thudded down the stairs, and then he appeared quick as a blur. “Or you can tell me yourself, Sunshine. What’s the paper?”

  “The Bronte sisters or Toni Morrison. It depends on how far behind I am.”

  “Sure. I have some original manuscripts of the Bronte sisters upstairs, and I guess you could say Toni and I are pen pals.” He shrugged and pushed his glasses up. “We go back a ways.”

  “You...” I blinked at him. “Wow. I don’t deserve you three.”

  All of them smiled.

  Jacek rose from the couch and winked. “Pretty sure you have that backward.”

  Pretty sure I didn’t, but I let it slide. More words tipped my tongue, but they pinched my heart too much to say right then and I didn’t have time for an emotional breakdown. The truth was every time I left them, I ached for them, like a sharp and constant pain centered around my heart. More my heart than my pussy, if you can believe it, though it reminded me regularly of its needs too. I waited until they were safely in the kitchen before I reluctantly opened the front door to the dreary fall day.

  My shift at The Bean Dream started off with a bang as sleepy customers kept staggering in, looking for the first caffeinated fix that would help get them through their days. While they stared at me with bleary eyes, none of them seemed to remember that they’d tried to kill me just days ago outside the police department. Must be nice to forget something like that since I never would.

  I took several hits of my own legal bean drug between customers, and even then I was only functioning on half my usual amount of cylinders. When the breakfast crowd finally slowed, I refreshed my cup and made a gingerbread latte with extra whipped cream for Sylvia, who had ducked into her office earlier.

  “Oh, you lifesaver you,” she said, making grabby hands for her drink.

  I handed it to her with a smile. “Do you ever wonder what would happen if we went through a prohibition with coffee?”

  “No.” She took a long draw from her cup and then sighed rapturously.

  “Me neither. I was just checking to make sure you weren’t worried.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Speaking of not worrying, I’m going out again this weekend, if you want to come. Plenty of guys.” She lifted an eyebrow. “And girls.”

  “I don’t really do...people.” I smirked at my own goofy double meaning but hid it behind my cup of coffee, black as my soul, as I took another drink. “Or social situations for that matter.”

  So what do you do in your free time, Belle?

  Sharpen wood into stakes and scour the graveyard for things to kill. You?

  In high school, I did go out a few times, but all small talk was awkward as fuck because I had nothing in common with anyone. My slayer status hung over my head, marking me as different, even though I couldn’t really tell anyone about it. It likely made me come across as shifty and full of myself, when really I would have traded anything for a normal life. And now? With the constant threat of Paul and the Necron Brotherhood and the mental and physical strain to keep putting one foot in front of the other? My heart flashed me an image of my three vamps. Honestly? I wouldn’t trade any of it.

  Bonkers, I know. I should probably commit myself right after work. But they’d wrapped me up into their lives like a family, something I’d been missing since Mom died. They’d helped fill that hole with laughter, caring, fucking, pie, and a sense of home. How could I ever repay them for that?

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “You could help me dispose of the delivery man’s body...”

  I snorted. Sylvia’s sarcasm, so much like my own, was one of my favorite things about working here. That, and the coffee.

  “Did he fall into your trunk?” I asked.

  “That’s exactly what happened.” She grinned, her dark eyes alight with humor. “Come with me?”

  I frowned. “Sorry, I can’t.”

  “Well, if you change your mind...” she said, her face falling.

  I nodded and got out of her office quick before I said I’d go just to keep from feeling like an asshole. Every time she’d asked if I wanted to come out with her, I’d said no. I hated disappointing people. Always had. Which was why I’d never had any close friends, because as the slayer, that pretty much ruled out slumber parties and sharing everything, including our darkest secrets. The only person who I’d ever let come close to being my best friend was Mom. God, I missed her something awful.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Detective Appelt. Finally.

  Detective Blake Friday, it read.

  Tattoo Guy.

  Who also happened to be named after a day of the week, something which Ronick sure seemed to care about. Coincidence?

  I sent the name to Sawyer and then settled in to fling more coffee while thoughts of Friday—both the man and the day—thumped louder and louder inside my skull.

  AS SOON AS MY SECOND shift ended, I rushed home, the one that actually felt like home, and went in s
earch of Sawyer to see if he’d found anything about Detective Blake Friday. I found him in the bathroom. Steam rose from the shower, scented with lavender and something else I didn’t know the name of, and I breathed it in until it settled into my pores. Through the steam and clear shower curtain, Sawyer’s massive shoulders, tattooed back, and perfectly sculpted ass were visible. He faced away from me, one hand splayed on the tile wall. Water rained down on him, curling the silky strands of his dark hair closer to this jaw, trailing down his bronzed skin in lickable paths.

  With my hand still on the doorknob, I debated if I wanted to keep it unlocked or have him all to myself. I knew he still carried his guilt around him like a heavy chain even though he’d saved all the slayers who had existed after the Necron Brotherhood disbanded. Even though he’d saved me. He deserved someone to lighten his load.

  Literally. Figuratively. Take it however you want.

  I locked the door and undressed as quietly as I could, then folded back a corner of the shower curtain and stepped inside the clawed-footed bathtub. I’d angled my entrance so I came in right behind his back so he wouldn’t see me. Maybe he didn’t even smell me over the strong lavender scent. Or maybe he was too busy to notice.

  The hand not splayed against the wall was out of sight in front of him, but I could sure guess where it was. His perfect ass flexed as his hips thrust forward, over and over again. His upper arm moved furiously. I crept up closer behind him to watch, the warm water from the shower spraying up my thighs. My entire body heated at the sight in front of me. He pumped his fist up and down his steel-hard cock, his eyes squeezed shut, his sinful mouth parted so his tongue could flick out and stroke his bottom lip. Watching him like this, losing himself while pleasuring himself, stormed my blood south, making me throb with want all over.

  I pressed up against his back, and he tensed, his grip on himself stopping, and looked over his shoulder. Then he relaxed into a groan as I wrapped my arms around him and helped him stroke his rigid cock.