Hell's Bell

by Keri Arthur

  Aiden halted beside the SUV, shoved his truck into park, and then twisted around to grab one of the coats. “I’ll get my gear out of the back, and then you can head home. Just take it easy until you get onto the main road, because the tracks will have deteriorated rapidly in this storm.”

  “We will.” I hesitated, only barely resisting the urge to drop a kiss on his cheek. “Talk to you later.”

  “Yes.” His smile flashed, but it was all too fleeting.

  Once he’d climbed out, I undid my belt and slid across to the driver seat. When he’d retrieved his kit, he hit the side of the truck a couple of times. I watched him walked around the front of the vehicle, and then slipped the gears into reverse and got out of there.

  “Let’s hope this body isn’t connected to either the other two or our soul eater,” Belle commented.

  “I’m betting we’ve got Buckley’s chance of that being the case.”

  She grimaced—something I felt through our connection more than saw, given my attention was solely on keeping the truck straight on the increasingly shitty road.

  “And I’m betting you’re right. It doesn’t stop me from hoping otherwise though.” She yawned hugely. “Do you mind if I nap?”

  “Go for it.” I paused, but couldn’t help adding, “If I’m going to slide us into a tree or something, it’s probably better not to see it.”

  “Thanks for that rather cheery thought.”

  “You’re welcome, my friend.”

  She shook her head, amusement teasing her lips as she grabbed the remaining coat, folded it up to form a pillow, and then shifted to a more comfortable position in the seat. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

  I not only managed to stay awake and not run us into a tree or worse, but also find my way back to the main highway without resorting to Google for help. Visibility remained poor, however, so I kept well below the speed limit—no doubt frustrating those who were caught behind me for however many minutes it might have taken to reach a passing point. It took me almost an hour to get back to Castle Rock and, by that time, I was battling to stay awake as tiredness pulsed through me.

  I pulled up in front of the café and lightly nudged Belle. “Crap,” she muttered. “We here already?”

  “Yeah. Are you going to be okay to get inside while I park the truck around the back, or do you want help?”

  “I’ll manage.”

  She dumped the coat on the seat then climbed out and staggered more than walked across to the door. I waited until she’d disappeared inside, then drove around to the rear of the building and the parking area we shared with all five businesses along this section of the street. Once the truck was safely tucked behind our old wagon, I shoved Aiden’s coat on, grabbed the backpack, and then ran like hell for the rear access door—one we generally used only when we needed to dump the waste in the nearby bins. But in the few seconds it took me to open it, my hair was running with rivers and the bottom half of me was soaked through.

  I stripped off in the small, rather cold corridor that held both our walk-in fridge-freezer and the storeroom, and then grabbed a bag from the latter to shove in the wet stuff so I didn’t drip into the main part of the building. Once upstairs, I dumped my clothes into the wash basket, hung Aiden’s coat up to dry, and then checked on Belle. She’d managed to strip off, but had hit the bed fast asleep. I tugged the blankets over her and got muttered at for my trouble. The spells we’d placed around the room to give Belle a break from the constant barrage of my thoughts prevented me from understanding the content of that mutter, but it didn’t really matter. Her tone told me it wasn’t a “thank you” but rather something along the lines of “bugger off and leave me alone”—only less polite.

  I grinned and headed into the bathroom, where I grabbed a quick shower to warm up. Once I was dried off and dressed, I headed downstairs to make myself a potion and some lunch.

  And discovered Roger standing in the middle of the café, looking around with interest.

  I stopped abruptly. “We’re closed—and how did you even get in?”

  “The door was open.”

  Meaning Belle really had been out of it when she’d come inside, because checking we were secure was normally the first thing she did. “Which doesn’t mute the point that we’re closed. It even says that on the door.”

  “Yes, but I am not here for sustenance.” He paused, and half smiled. “Although if you were to offer me a piece of that rather delicious-looking orange and walnut cake, I would not gainsay you.”

  I snorted, but nevertheless walked around the counter. “Why are you here, Roger? What does your mistress want?”

  “She wishes to know what you have heard about Marlinda’s death.”

  I retrieved the orange cake and cut him a slice, then opened the drawer beside the cake fridge, grabbed a paper bag, and slid the slice of cake into it. I wasn’t about to encourage him to stay and eat.

  “Haven’t the rangers spoken to her yet?”

  “Yes, but only in her capacity of Marlinda’s employer.”

  “If she wants to uncover the reason behind Marlinda’s murder, it might have been wise for her to mention they also had a relationship beyond the boundaries of employer and employee. After all, no matter how careful she might be, someone in this reservation is likely to have seen them together at some point.”

  He accepted the bagged cake with a somewhat amused smile. “Which is why she did tell them they had an intimate relationship.”

  That raised my eyebrows. For some reason, I hadn’t expected Maelle to be gay, although there was no reason for a vampire not to be, given their sexuality didn’t change when their bodies did.

  “I see surprise in your expression.” His tone and pronunciation told me I was now speaking to the woman in charge rather than her servant. “You did not expect me to be so crude as to take my pleasure without also giving it, did you?”

  “Given how little I know about vampires and their feeding habits, I can honestly say I didn’t know what to expect.”

  The smile that teased Roger’s lips was almost predatory, and a chill raced down my spine. Not because I in any way feared him, but rather the anticipation evident in his expression. It imbued me with a deep sense that if I didn’t play my cards right, Maelle would loom far larger in my life than I wanted or needed.

  “Oh,” he all but purred, “I’m sure we can fix that if you so desire.”

  “I don’t desire,” I replied evenly, somehow resisting the urge to step back and run like hell from this half human and the woman who sustained him. “And never will.”

  “Shame,” he murmured, even as Maelle’s presence leached from his features. He blinked and added, “Even with that information, the rangers have not told my mistress much about how or why Marlinda might have died.”

  “That’s probably because they don’t know anything more, thanks to the fact they haven’t gotten the autopsy results back as yet.” I studied him uneasily. “And why would you think I’d actually know anything?”

  Amusement touched his expression, though his eyes remained cold. “Come now, it is quite common knowledge that you and the ranger are... perhaps not bedfellows, but close to.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “You and your mistress need better sources, because we are not—much to my chagrin, admittedly—even close to being bedfellows. We haven’t even gone out on a goddamn date yet.”

  “That is a surprise, given what we’ve witnessed.”

  That had my amusement fading, and fast. “You’ve been watching me?”

  “We keep an eye on all the main players in this reservation,” he said. “It pays to be up with current events when you’re a vampire.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought that necessary given the council does know you’re here—”

  “And they are well able to revoke that permission at any point,” he cut in smoothly. “We have not lived this long by being caught unawares.”

  Which was basically confirmation that
he was far older than he actually looked—though probably not as old as his mistress. His speech patterns might be a little old-fashioned, but I’d hazard a guess he’d at least been born in the twentieth century. If Maelle wasn’t far older than even that, I’d be very surprised.

  “The point remains the same—I don’t currently know any more than either of you.”

  “Perhaps, but we were wondering if you would be willing to share any information you do get.” He paused, and then added, with odd emphasis, “My mistress would not only be most appreciative, but she would also be in your debt.”

  That, his reverence suggested, was not only rare, but could be highly beneficial. And I couldn’t help but agree, especially if Gabe was right about the darker forces being drawn to this place even if the original wellspring became fully protected.

  “I very much doubt Aiden will tell me too much about the investigation,” I said. “Especially if the coroner’s report proves there’s no connection to the soul eater’s presence on the reservation.”

  “Even so, we’d appreciate any information you do get.”

  I hesitated. “Okay, but I won’t share anything that could jeopardize the ongoing investigation. Is that clear?”

  He inclined his head, the movement almost regal. “That is acceptable.”

  Too bad if it isn’t, I wanted to say, but wisely kept the words inside. I walked back around the counter and motioned him toward the door. “If there’s nothing else, I’ve got work to do.”

  “Thank you for the cake and your time,” he said, and left.

  I locked up after him, and then headed into the kitchen to make my shake. Between it, and the steak, chips, and salad I had afterward, the lingering tiredness that was a result of my supporting Belle began to fade. The coffee and double chocolate cheesecake that followed washed away the remainder.

  I spent a couple of hours in the kitchen doing prep for tomorrow, and then headed upstairs to relax and read some more of Nellie’s old book on darker spirits.

  The rest of the afternoon drifted by without any major revelations as to what sort of soul eater we might be dealing with, let alone how to stop it killing, and banish it from the reservation.

  Belle came out just as the clock downstairs started chiming. She yawned hugely and then somewhat blearily glanced my way. “Is that six AM or PM?”

  “The latter. Why aren’t you still asleep?”

  “Because I forgot to call Zak and cancel our date, and he just sent a text saying he’ll be around in half an hour to pick me up.” She wrinkled her nose. “I said I needed an hour and a very early night, so we’re just going to the pub down the road for steak and chips.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You can get that here.”

  “Yes, but it would mean me cooking, and that’s not going to happen on my day off.”

  “Fair enough.” I bookmarked the page I was on, and then pushed upright. “You want a coffee to wake up a bit more?”

  She hesitated. “Nah, the shower should be enough.”

  I made myself an espresso as she pottered about getting ready. Zak arrived right on time, and I couldn’t help the wisp of... not envy, but certainly longing that stirred as he tugged Belle into his arms and kissed her soundly. I really wasn’t sure Aiden and I would ever get to the point of being so open and easy when it came to desire.

  I locked the door again once they’d left, and headed into the kitchen to make myself something for dinner. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully—which I supposed was a good thing even if it was utterly boring.

  I’d just about given up hope of Aiden dropping by when, at ten thirty, my phone rang.

  “Didn’t wake you up, did I?” he said, by way of greeting.

  “The only reason you’ll ever find me in bed this early is if I’m sick or having sex.”

  He chuckled softly, the sound so low, and warm desire stirred. “I hope the latter activity is not just confined to the bedroom.”

  “If you play your cards right, you might just find out.”

  “I’ll be seriously disappointed if I don’t.” He paused. “I know it’s late, but do you want to go out for coffee?”

  No, I want to stay in and play. But with Belle due home at any minute, that really wasn’t an option. Magic might be able to stop her hearing my thoughts, but I wasn’t aware of any spells capable of stopping sound—which didn’t mean there weren’t any. Still, while it might be considered rather old-fashioned in this day and age, we’d long ago made a rule not to bring our lovers home unless the other was staying elsewhere. So I simply said, “There won’t be much open at this hour, will there?”

  “There’s actually a little twenty-four-hour place just off the freeway that does surprisingly good coffee.”

  “By your standards or mine?” I asked, amused. “And does this count as a date?”

  “I think I can manage a classier first date than mere coffee.”

  “Which suggests you’ve placed your bet on a different day.”

  “I certainly have. Next Sunday, to be exact.”

  Meaning I had to wait six whole days before I got any serious action? That was almost cruel....

  “Is there any reason we’re waiting so long?”

  He chuckled again. “If I said better odds, you’ll probably never speak to me again.”

  “You may well be right.”

  “In truth, I have Monday off. Given the café is also closed, I thought it’d be nice if I picked you up for dinner on Sunday night, after which we can then retreat to my place.” He hesitated. “There’re two bedrooms, so there are no expectations, and you can sleep alone if you so desire.”

  “I think you can guess the response to that—especially given Belle’s comments this morning.”

  “Perhaps, but I learned a long time ago to never presume.” His smile was evident in his voice. “I’ll finish locking up the station and be there in ten minutes.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  I hung up and then raced upstairs to put on some fresh clothes and makeup. Belle still wasn’t home by the time I clattered back down with his coat, as well one for myself, so I left her a note, collected my purse and his keys, and then headed for the front door. He was striding down the street as I stepped out, and the warmth in his smile had my toes curling. He was wearing dark jeans that hugged his long, strong legs, and a rich blue sweater that emphasized his shoulders and brought out the color of his eyes. He was, I thought idly, a rather good-looking man.

  I held his keys up and said, “Your truck is parked around the back.”

  “Thanks.” His fingers brushed mine as he took them from me, and heat curled through my body. “But I’m afraid there’s been yet another change of plans.”

  I valiantly pushed down the sliver of disappointment and said, “What’s happened?”

  “I got a call from Ciara. She needs to discuss the autopsy results on Marlinda Brown.”

  “At this hour? Isn’t it a bit late?”

  “I asked her to do overtime to get the autopsies done, as we need to present the prelim findings to the council ASAP.” He grimaced. “It’s hardly fair for me to expect that of her and not be willing to put in extra time myself.”

  He’d already put in plenty of overtime from what I’d seen, but it wasn’t like I had any right to comment on that. “And today’s body? Was it connected to the other two murders?”

  “No—not unless our murderer has gained a sudden desire to kill cows.”

  I blinked. “How on earth did the witnesses mistake a cow for a human?”

  “They were city folk,” he replied, amused, “and it had floated out a bit from the shore and did look body-like in the rain.”

  “I still suspect the witnesses might need to their eyesight checked.” I crossed my arms against the chill of the night and thwarted expectations. “Do you know how it died?”

  “Ciara thinks it slipped down the slope when it was trying to get a drink, broke its leg, and drowned.”

 
“Poor thing.” I hesitated. “I guess we’ll do coffee another time, then.”

  “Yes.” He brushed a finger down my cheek. Though the touch was light, it nevertheless caused havoc inside. “I’m sorry.”

  I smiled as he dropped his hand and stepped back. “So am I.”

  His fingers twitched, then clenched, and I had a suspicion he was barely resisting the urge to reach for me. So I did what any sane, sensible woman would in that situation—I stepped closer, rose up on my toes, and kissed him. I kept it light and sweet—made it a tease more than a declaration. But the minute I tried to step back, his arms went around me, the kiss deepened, and it became that declaration of intent I’d been trying to avoid. It left me aching and hungry for more, and while the sane, sensible part of me cursed my impulsiveness, the rest at least had something to dream about in the long hours ahead.

  “You,” he said, as he eventually—and somewhat reluctantly—released me, “have totally ensured I won’t sleep easily tonight.”

  “Good, because that was the aim, Ranger.” My tone was filled with mock outrage. “Consider it payback for making our first official date nearly a week away. And all to win a ten-dollar bet!”

  “It was twenty, and you have no idea how little I care about that damn bet right now.”

  I let my gaze drift down his length and then said, somewhat cheekily, “Oh, I think I do.”

  He laughed, a warm, rich sound that stirred me almost as much as his kiss. Almost. “Then how about we still keep Sunday’s date, but do something a whole lot earlier?”

  “Earlier as in, straight after your meeting with Ciara you’ll pick me up and we’ll head to Argyle?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have to get up early and run the café tomorrow?”

  “I do, but I’ll take eye bags and tiredness over unquenched desire any day.”

  “A sentiment I can certainly agree with.” He caught my hand, tugged me closer again, and dropped a quick kiss on my lips. “But it could be close to midnight.”

  “And?”