The Vampire King's Cage

by T. S. Ryder

  Patrick's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, but Piper was too upset to notice, her hands were clenched and she glowered out the window as streetlights zipped by.

  "And when I told him in no uncertain terms that I wouldn't—"

  "She called him a waste of breath and that he was going to hell for what he was doing."

  "The devaluation of art is serious. Well, he got pissy and said that the only reason I felt that way was because I wasn't a good enough artist or witch to set up my own press like the one he had. Well, you can say a lot of things about me, but you insult my art and my magic and you've got a feud on your hands. And I don't mean insults like “my kid could paint that” - that's just ignorance and—"

  She cut off as Patrick roared with laughter. With a huff, she tried to move off his lap but he just held her tighter. Elbowing him in the stomach only made him laugh even more.

  "Ah, Piper. Piper, Piper, Piper. You're a little minx, you know that, right?"

  Piper's shoulders hunched forward and she scowled.

  "I was going to wait until it was officially official," he continued, "but I can see you need something to cheer you up. I've decided that I need to get more into the art business myself. Now I know you hate cheap reproductions, but I'm opening up an Artco franchise store in Uphoria. Only with cheaper prices and more variety then what Wragge has in his shop."

  Piper gaped at him. "But… but that's going to cost you a small fortune! And… how is it even going to work?"

  Patrick shrugged. "It'll hurt Wragge's business, which is its purpose. Just being there ought to have some effect on his bottom line. Like when a Tim Hortons opens up right next to a donut shop, it's going to hurt the donut shop."

  It was Baxter's turn to laugh. "I'm glad we're out of Uphoria for that. I bet Wragge has smoke coming from his ears over this."

  Patrick smiled in a self-satisfied way and Piper snuggled closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder. "Thank you."

  Baxter hummed, and Patrick's eyes flicked over to him. "While we're on things that were going to wait, I think Baxter has something for you, too."

  They were at the apartment building by this time and Patrick carried her inside. It was something she never thought she'd be able to experience, given her size, but Piper found she really liked being carried from one place to another. It made her feel special.

  "You sure?" Baxter asked Patrick when they got to the apartment. "It can wait until morning–make you the hero of tonight."

  "I'll have plenty of chances to be the hero. Besides, I think our little female here won't be satisfied until she knows what we're talking about," replied Patrick, his hands resting on her shoulders.

  Baxter glanced at Piper's impatient expression and grinned. Patrick took Piper to the kitchen while Baxter disappeared in the hallway closet. Moments later he reappeared with a painting in his hands. Piper gasped. It was an apple tree, painted from the view of a window high about it. Tears filled her eyes as she reached for the painting.

  "My mother's painting. How did you—"

  "I found it at a secondhand store. Couldn't believe my eyes." Baxter kissed the top of her head. "There's no real telling how it got there, but I suspect Kristal Clark had something to do with it. More so than Thor Wragge."

  Piper didn't care. She quickly went to the den and took down the abstract piece she had hung over the couch, replacing it with her mother's picture. Stepping back to admire it, she leaned against Baxter as he put an arm around her waist.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  "It was my pleasure."

  Piper looked up at him with a glint in her eye. "Oh, you can count on it."

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom, Patrick trailing after with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

  Chapter Ten

  The first game of the new hockey season was exhilarating.

  Piper jumped up and down next to Baxter, completely enthralled as her eyes followed Patrick from one end of the rink to the next. She could see his breath puffing into the air and watched a trickle of blood run down his lip where he had been elbowed by another player. The puck moved so quickly that she couldn't see who had it.

  It was odd how fun hockey suddenly became, now that she had a certain player to keep her eye on and cheer on.

  There were ten seconds left on the clock. The score was 2-1 in Uphoria's favor. The opposing team was vicious and it was only because of the goalie's skills that they hadn't scored more points. Piper could see Patrick's frustration mount with every passing second.

  "He's got the puck, he's got the puck!" she screamed, clawing at Baxter's arm.

  Baxter winced then laughed and cupped his mouth and hollered encouragement.

  "Destroy them!" Piper screamed, caught up as the final second ticked by. "Kill them, kill them!"

  Patrick slapped the puck hard as the opposing players went after him. It sailed through the air, a black disc against the white ice. The net caught it, bouncing it back into the goalie's head just as the buzzer rang, indicating the end of the game.

  Piper stomped her feet and clapped her hands, whooping and hollering. Baxter grabbed her around the waist, swinging her around their private box, pressing fevered kisses to her neck and face. Piper grinned and laughed, glancing down at the rink. Patrick glared up at them, his wolfish lips pulled back in a grin. Once he caught Piper's eye he crooked his finger, beckoning her.

  "I think Patrick wants us to wait until he can join us," she laughed, pushing Baxter away.

  In response, Baxter grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the box. They were soon in the locker room.

  It had been startling when Patrick first invited them in and being around all those naked or half-dressed Werewolves had made Piper red as a tomato and highly uncomfortable, but none of them gave her a second glance.

  That was the Werewolf way. They weren't phased by nudity and certainly weren't attracted to a person that wasn't a possible mate.

  "That was amazing!" Baxter gushed as he threw his arms around Patrick.

  Piper hung back. Baxter and Patrick might have no problem with kissing when one or both of them were in the wolf forms, but fur was not a turn-on to her. The last thing she wanted was to be hacking up fur balls.

  After Patrick removed his hockey gear and had retaken his human form, he pulled both of his mates to the shower to celebrate. They were individual cubicles, but it was still only afterward that Piper realized that his teammates would have been able to hear every single moan. Her face flushed as she toweled off and redressed.

  "You wolves!" she shook her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you. Sex maniacs, both of you."

  "That's why you love us," Patrick chortled. "Besides, I didn't see you protesting. Quite the opposite, in fact."

  The locker smelled like sweat, old shoes and wet dog, but it had emptied sometime while the three had been in the shower. Well, at least that was a relief. She turned to her boys, putting her hands on her hips.

  "So, I heard that some place in British Columbia is going to host some of the Wolf League games this year?"

  Patrick nodded, a grin spreading over his face. There was a split in his lower lip and bruises on his cheek, but violent games always seemed to make him more excited. "That's right. We're getting bigger, Piper. More and more people are wanting to see our games."

  "Because you're like modern day gladiators," Piper grumbled, crossing the room for the first aid kit. "Let me take care of that lip."

  "It also means that I'll be spending a lot of time away from home."

  Piper turned back, frowning. Patrick languidly dressed, seemingly not paying attention to his two mates.

  "Piper and I can fly out to watch the games," Baxter said.

  "Well, you can at least. I've got a plane ticket for you to come visit me over there for a couple of weeks. We can look at hotel rooms when we get back to the apartment."

  Piper pressed her lips together. Baxter got tickets, but she didn't? S
he tried not to be jealous–after all, Baxter hadn't been able to find a new job just yet, so he was available to go gallivanting off to British Columbia to see the games. She wasn't. At least not yet.

  She cleared her throat. "I could take some time off at the gallery, you know. We're doing so well, I thought I could get an assistant or something that could keep an eye on things while I went to see your out-of-province games."

  Patrick shook his head. "That's sweet of you, Piper, but I know you only come to these games because you feel obligated to. It's fine."

  "No, I like hockey a lot more now!" Piper bounced on her toes. "I love watching you play."

  "I think you like playing after he plays." Baxter laughed.

  Piper wrinkled her nose at him. "No, I've come to really enjoy watching hockey. I think I like the blood a lot more than I used to."

  Patrick burst into laughter. He laughed so hard and for so long that he had to sit down. Piper folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at him to show she wasn't amused, although his full-bellied laughs were hard not to join with.

  "You are too easy to tease," he said, finally catching his breath. "I've got tickets for you, too. And an assistant sounds like the perfect thing for you."

  He strode over to her, hands clasping over her hips. He lifted her with more ease than she thought was possible; she was always amazed when he lifted her. Baxter was soon by his side and Patrick settled the witch onto both of their shoulders. Piper held one of Patrick's and one of Baxter's hands.

  "I am so lucky to have you two," Patrick sighed.

  Piper laughed. "I think I'm the lucky one!"

  "Nope, it's me."

  Patrick growled playfully as they exited the locker room. "We're all lucky. How about we agree to that?"

  "Agreed," Piper and Baxter said in unison.

  Piper squeezed her mates' hands, smiling, feeling so happy she thought her heart might burst.

  *****

  THE END

  The Ghost's Deadly Secrets

  Description

  What dark secrets is he hiding underneath the suit I want to rip off him?

  Realtor Melody Zabat has a secret: she sees ghosts. Unfortunately, most of the ghosts she comes across are murder victims, and she inevitably ends up entangled in the investigation.

  She's just happy that she can escape all of those ghostly complications in her little hometown of Blackcliff. It's her sanctuary, where she can pretend to be a normal person.

  At least, it is until murder comes to town...

  Suddenly Melody finds herself haunted yet again–this time by a rich city girl with secrets she doesn't want to share. Add into the mix the handsome billionaire with secrets of his own, and Melody finds herself faced with mystery on every side.

  Oskar Freyson, Alpha of the wealthiest Shifter community in the country, doesn't need to work as an FBI agent, but he has his reasons for joining the agency. But he isn't in Blackcliff for company business; he's there for revenge. Unfortunately, this gives him motive for murder, and he soon finds himself being investigated by his own team.

  With a ghost connected to the billionaire who is connected to a murder, can Melody discover the true killer… and maybe find love along the way?

  Chapter One

  There was a crisp mountain smell in the air that made Melody Zabat hate the sight of Blackcliff. Though the little town was clean and she generally loved the mix of Old West and modern aesthetic that the buildings exuded, it was one of those days where she wished she could just blow off her responsibilities and run naked through the woods with a spear in hand and a wolf at her side. Or just go fishing.

  Unfortunately, Melody had to be satisfied with a shot of coffee and a hot breakfast from her favorite café in town, Old Gossip. Houses weren't going to sell themselves, and ever since that handsome billionaire, Oskar Freyson, had taken an interest in their town, she felt like she was being run off her feet.

  Freyson was the Alpha of the wealthiest community of Shifters in the country, and he had billions of dollars of his own personal wealth at his disposal. Some people in town were concerned that he was going to try to turn Blackcliff into a Shifter Sanctuary, but Melody wasn't worried about that. If anything, an influx of Shifters, especially wealthy Shifters, would do the town some good. The economy wasn't doing very well. If the town continued on the path it was on, it would be a ghost town in a few decades.

  Ghost town. Melody couldn't help but chuckle at her own joke. Of course, it didn't hurt that Oskar Freyson was perhaps the most handsome person she had ever seen. All Shifters were hot, but he was exceptional. What was it about Shifters and their naturally good genes?

  Jane Gardens, the owner of Old Gossip, beamed at her when she entered the café. The silver-haired woman was still as spry as she was when she was sixty, which was how old she had been claiming to be for the past decade. Melody took her usual spot on a barstool at the counter, beside Elisabeth Burgess, a young woman with curly hair.

  "And then I saw Milly Braden and Russel Rickey standing on the corner, kissing." Jane leaned on the counter, her wide eyes fixed on Elisabeth.

  "Oh, really?"

  Elisabeth glanced at Melody from the corner of her eye, a slightly pained expression on her face, but she was far too shy and eager to please people to interrupt Jane. Her compassionate personality served her well at the daycare she ran, but when it came to busybodies like Jane Gardens, she was the unwilling recipient of hours' worth of gossip.

  Melody debated whether she should come to Elisabeth's rescue, but she didn't want to end up hearing the whole story that led up to Milly Braden and Russel Rickey kissing, and she kept quiet.

  "I don't know what's happening with young people these days. Imagine, kissing like that out in the middle of the day." Jane shook her head. "Back in my day, kissing was done sitting in parked cars out in the woods." Jane giggled suddenly, sounding like a woman much younger than she was. "And when I say kissing—"

  "Too much information," Melody interrupted, miming covering her ears. "You're like a grandmother to us here, we don't need to hear that sort of thing."

  Jane shrugged. "You want your usual, dear?"

  Melody nodded. "Please."

  "Salmon steak with fried eggs coming up," Jane trilled.

  As the older woman moved away, Elisabeth let out a pent-up sigh of relief. "Thank you,"

  "My pleasure. How are you and Bobby liking the new house?"

  Elisabeth had moved to Blackcliff with her then-infant son ten years previously, but it was only now that her business was picking up that she had been able to afford to buy a house. Melody had worked closely with her to find the perfect fit for the two of them, and she was eager to know how they were settling in. It was the best part of selling houses, hearing how happy people were in their new homes. Almost as good as a whole day's fishing.

  "It's wonderful, thank you." Elisabeth beamed. "The backyard is so big, we might even be able to get a dog. I think Bobby is old enough to start taking on a little more responsibility."

  Melody nodded. "He's a bright boy. I'm sure you'd do well with a dog."

  Jane bustled back towards them, refilling Elisabeth's coffee cup and giving some to Melody as well. "So, are either of you young ladies dating anybody yet?"

  Elisabeth's face went beet red, but Melody laughed to draw Jane's attention to her.

  "No dating for me. I like where I am right now. Selling houses, building up my real estate company. Besides, I know everybody who lives here too well to find them interesting. I need somebody with a little more mystery." She took a sip of her coffee.

  It was mostly true. Melody wasn’t interested in any of the locals. If Oskar Freyson showed any interest in her, however, it would be another story.

  A tall, leggy blonde suddenly appeared behind Jane. Melody's eyes widened. The blonde's form was wavering, translucent, like an image projected onto the surface of a lake. Her hair was turned up with flowers in it, and she wore a tight-fitting white dress that looked halfway
between something a bride would wear and something to go clubbing in.

  "You," the blonde said, pointing at her. "They told me to find you."

  Melody ducked her head. Not now! Not here!

  Jane tapped her hand. "Hello? Dear, you really need to stop spacing out on me."

  "Sorry." Melody shook her head and forced herself to look at the older woman.

  The blonde stood right behind Jane, her form growing more solid, blue eyes flashing. "Don't you dare ignore me!"

  "I asked you how you plan on having a lasting relationship with a mystery man," Jane said. "The mystery will wear off, and then what?"

  The blonde vanished, only to reappear right beside Melody. "Hello? I know you can see me. I do not take kindly to being ignored!"

  She actually stomped her foot.

  Melody tried to repress a groan, but she didn't quite make it. Jane's brows furrowed. "Are you feeling okay?"

  "I might be a little queasy," Melody said, grabbing her stomach for emphasis. "I've been going pretty hard since Freyson came to town. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad for the work, but it's been almost two weeks since I've had a day off and I think it's catching up with me."

  Jane's eyes flashed and her mouth turned down. "I have nothing against Shifters, but that man can't just waltz in here and take over everything. We ought to have a say in what goes on in our own town!"

  The blonde appeared right in front of Melody, putting her hands on her hips. "Are you deaf or blind? I need your help and I'm not going anywhere until you help me."

  "Can I get that salmon to go?" Melody blurted. "I just remembered I have things to do at the office."

  Jane looked surprised but soon handed Melody a container with her breakfast in it. Melody threw down some money and raced from the café, trying her best not to glare at the blonde, who was following after her. Stupid, pushy ghost.