Beast Coast (A Carus Novel Book 2)

by J. C. McKenzie

  “Hello?” Lucus’s voice snapped.

  “Hi Lucus. It’s Andy McNeilly. We spoke earlier.”

  “What do you want?

  “Quick question.”

  A pause. “Shoot.”

  “You said your man puked up a lot of vegetables.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Were they cucumbers by any chance?”

  “Well now, how’d you know that? Yes, they were. Thought the boy had a hankering for them, but he won’t go near them now.”

  Now? “Is he still handcuffed in your love den?”

  Lucus chuckled softly. I envisioned him shaking his head. “Now sweet cheeks, that ain’t none of your business.”

  I didn’t bother correcting him on the use of double negatives. “You’re right. Thanks for the information.”

  “Mmmhmm.” He hung up on me again, thwarting an awkward goodbye.

  I whirled around and ran to my office.

  “Andy?” Stan called out after me.

  “Shhh. Not now. In the zone.” I flicked my laptop open and after I logged in, pulled up my favorite search engine on the screen. Doing a search for “supernatural + water + cucumbers” yielded many results. I clicked on the first link, read a few lines and gasped. The Kappa: a Japanese water supe capable of psionic mind control with a diet consisting of energy sucked from its victims and cucumbers.

  Stan entered the office and folded his arms. He was a smart cop and remained silent as I pulled books off the shelf until I could get to the one I wanted.

  Encyclopedia of Mythical Creatures zapped my fingers, but I ignored the insignificant pain to look up the Kappa. The short paragraph confirmed the Internet site, but the information presented made the Kappa seem harmless, relatively passive, and almost ridiculous. I needed more information before I acted.

  And I knew just who to ask about Japanese supes.

  ****

  The largest Japanese Vampire I knew in existence slipped on his tailored jacket and cast a what’s-wrong-with-you face in my direction as if he hadn’t dropped the biggest knowledge bomb of the day on me.

  “So the Kappa’s real?” I asked, again. The little pink satin robe Lucien had lent me to visit Allan’s chambers barely covered my crotch. From the draft my backside kept getting, it failed to conceal my ass. But that’s not what made me uncomfortable.

  Allan’s “chambers” included a main sitting room and lounge area, but instead of being stocked full of BDSM paraphernalia like handcuffs, chains, or a rack, it appeared shockingly normal, almost like grandma’s house. Soft brown leather sofas, a cream carpet devoid of blood stains, beautiful enlarged photos of Japanese landscapes. No submissives running around serving us. No stench of fear clogging my nose. Just Allan’s vampy scent and rose petals. He must have space in the dungeons for his playroom.

  Allan tilted his head, probably reading every thought as it flittered through my head. “You’re a post-Purge supe. Are you honestly questioning the possibility that Kappas exist?”

  I didn’t bother correcting him. I was born in the first year of the Purge, so technically the prefixes post and pre, didn’t apply to me. “The encyclopedia mentioned flying cucumbers. It’s a bit hard to swallow.”

  Yes, the Purge had revealed the existence of the supernatural, but if vegetables started flying about like magic fucking carpets, I’d lose it. Stan had looked at me sideways when I’d told him my suspicions.

  Allan laughed. “That was a part of the children’s bedtime stories. To soften the harsh reality. The Kappa is more powerful and deadlier than that.”

  “Great…”

  Allan’s lip quirked. And then he stilled. His nose flared, and his fangs elongated. “Do you fear the unknown, little girl?”

  Any fear I had dissipated. “Down boy. It takes more than a little water sprite to scare me.”

  He looked thoughtful. “Noted.”

  I groaned.

  He smiled.

  “How much more badass is the Kappa compared to what I’ve read? Give me the basics.”

  Allan wrapped his tie around his collar and deftly tied it in place. “I’ve never met one.”

  I folded my arms and dug my toes into the plush carpet. “Postulate.”

  “They’re human sized. Their backs are hardened with a material like a tortoise shell. They’re green, scaly, and have a beak for a mouth. They lure children to the water and drown them.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “They absorb energy through physical contact, much like Vampires gain life through drinking blood. I’m assuming they target children because they’re easier to lure and control.”

  “Yet this Kappa is now targeting supes—not exactly helpless or vulnerable.”

  “Maybe this Kappa is more…what’s the phrase you like so much? Badass?”

  I pursed my lips. “What kind of water?”

  Allan frowned.

  “Where does a Kappa live? Fresh water like rivers and lakes. Oceans?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “We’re on the West Coast. I can’t walk five fucking kilometers without falling into a body of water.” I flung my hands up in the air.

  “Then it looks like you will be doing a lot of walking and falling, kitten.”

  Our eyes met and the gleam in his eyes read, “No help here.”

  “So I’m looking for a humanoid turtle in a body of water?”

  Allan moved with Vampire grace to one of his couches and sat down. “Yes.”

  “Anything else?”

  “It has incredibly strong psionic abilities. Your Shifter mind should be harder for it to penetrate, but I would keep your animals close.” He waved his hand at the other couch.

  “How do I defeat it?” I flopped down on the soft cushions, tugged down my robe and pinned my knees together.

  “The Kappa is said to be incredibly courteous,” Allan said.

  “It drowns children.”

  Allan shrugged. Not seeing the contradiction.

  “So kill it with kindness?”

  “In the bedtime stories, the hero defeated the Kappa by bowing to it. Obsessed with being polite, the Kappa bowed back. The water in the bowl spilled out and with an empty bowl, it could no longer move.” He gave me a pointed look. “That would be the time to strike.”

  “What bowl? I read nothing about a bowl, only that they looked something like a mutant turtle.”

  Allan grunted and leaned back. “The sara. It’s an indentation on the top of their head that resembles a bowl. It’s the source of their power and contains water from their habitat. It needs to be full in order for the Kappa to travel on land. If it drains or spills out, the Kappa can’t move. It is said if a human refills the bowl, the Kappa will serve them for all eternity.”

  “So I have to find it, lure it out of the water, and get it to bow to me?” I snapped my fingers. “Easy peasy.”

  Allan dipped his head in acknowledgment and adjusted his jacket.

  “Do you sleep in your suit?”

  “Interested in my sleeping habits?” Allan’s lips twitched. “Clint will be jealous.”

  “Ugh.” I threw my hands up. “You two are insufferable. Not everything is an innuendo.”

  “Ah, but when faced with a curvy female, it’s hard not to take it as such.”

  “Not your type.” The urge to tug at my skimpy robe again gnawed at me, but I bit the inside of my lip and ignored it.

  “I know. We’ve already addressed this. You rise to the bait too easily, little kitten. You have too many admirers already. I merely like to play your strings.”

  A big whoosh of air escaped my lungs. Bantering with Allan could only distract me from my problems so long. “What am I going to do?”

  Lure it, my fox whispered. Use a norm.

  My cat hissed, but I wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or agitation. The fox spoke out of turn.

  “Lucien only tasked you to find out who was behind the attac
ks.”

  My head snapped up. “You’re right. Will you pass the message to him? I’m going to get the heck out of here before he orders me to do more.”

  “He’ll call you back.”

  “I know. But I could use the time off. And I’m not sure I’m the best candidate for taking the Kappa down.”

  “You do need to work on your ground game,” Allan agreed.

  I imagined punching him in the kidneys, which elicited a bark of laughter from him.

  “Good night, kitten.”

  “Night.” I stood, dropped the robe and shifted into my falcon. The cool night air, my one constant companion, refreshing and calming, met me as I flew out Allan’s window. Mentally ticking items off my to-do list, I realized how much I had left to do.

  Chapter Thirty

  “All men are intrinsical rascals, and I am only sorry that, not being a dog, I can’t bite them.”

  ~Lord Byron

  “You’ve been avoiding my calls.” Booth’s craggy voice rattled the speakers on my phone. “Why?”

  The small window of reprieve from Lucien would be used to close my Herman Assignment. I couldn’t avoid it any longer, but it didn’t make what I would say to Booth any easier. Taking a deep breath, I whispered into the phone. “I know where he is.”

  “Where?”

  “Why don’t I take you there? We can retrieve him together.” I crossed my fingers, hoping he’d be at the house this time.

  “I’m at the office. Pick me up.”

  “Be there in fifteen minutes.” No need to tell her I was already on my way. I made it in ten to find Booth already waiting for me in front of the building. She wrung her hands together, but as soon as she saw me pull up with my car, she untangled them and let them fall to her sides.

  Booth nodded, opened the door and slid in without a word. Not even a comment on the squeaking hinges or dented side panels. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, but she stared straight ahead. If only I could read her scent. Her eyes had a glazed sheen to them. Anxious? Nervous? Hard to tell.

  She didn’t initiate conversation and we rode in the car in absolute silence. Thank fuck. I didn’t have to dodge or evade awkward questions like: Where is he? Or, where are we going?

  When I pulled up to the house, Agent Booth frowned. “This is my mother’s house.”

  I placed a hand on Booth’s arm. “Were you close to your mom?”

  Booth shook off my hand. “I visit her for Christmas and on her birthday. We have little in common.”

  I nodded. My mind raced to find a gentler way of breaking the news to Booth.

  Booth’s gaze slid to mine. “What do you mean were?”

  The breath I’d been holding escaped in one big whoosh of air. “She’s dead.”

  Booth sat silently for what seemed like hours, but in reality only amounted to a few minutes. Her fingers tapped on the armrest. “Herman?”

  I shook my head. “No. Appeared to be natural causes, but I think Herman’s been using her place as a hideout. I had to leave your mom so he wouldn’t know I’d found him. I’m sorry. It’s been weeks. You may not want to see her.”

  Booth’s eyebrows pinched in the middle, giving her an even sterner appearance. After a few minutes, her face smoothed out and she sighed. “I’ve seen bodies in decomp before. Like I said, we weren’t close. Let’s get Herman.”

  She wrenched the door open and hopped out with an almost energetic bounce, as if she was a ten-year-old arriving at an amusement park instead of a middle-aged woman about to see her mother’s body.

  I clasped the door handle, muscles tense. Booth’s cold reaction to her mother’s passing didn’t sit well. Even if they weren’t close, I expected...more. Maybe not hysterics or tears, but something to indicate Booth had a soul. Her behaviour was odd, making her seem inhuman.

  I narrowed my eyes at her back. No scent. No feelings. What are you?

  More than one fera growled in my head. My skin prickled and my muscles coiled. I staggered and braced against the car, pressing my forehead against the hot metal. My mountain lion pushed, and the beast stirred. I took a few deep breaths, preventing the shift.

  When I looked up, Booth glared back. She waited for me with crossed arms and a tapping foot. Without words, I joined her, and we walked to the house, not bothering to hide our approach. Booth seemed unaffected by my reaction to her odd behaviour.

  “Should we sneak around back?” I asked.

  Booth scoffed and held up a gold key. “Unnecessary.”

  I followed her lead. We entered the home without knocking and paused briefly for Booth to study her dead mother from a few feet away. The smell of decay hit me like a wall and I shuddered. Booth pursed her lips and carried on. What the fuck? My skin shivered, and my falcon pecked at the inside of my skull. She wanted out. She wanted to fly away from this creepy moment.

  My feet weighed a ton as I lugged them up the stairs behind Booth, now moving faster and with a spring in her step. We found Herman in the bedroom that doubled as a shrine to Booth.

  He spun around at our entrance, eyes wide. I crouched and readied for an attack.

  The air, hot and rank with the smells of death, stifled my breath as we waited. Waited for what? I took a step forward, then hesitated. Booth stood relaxed, with her lips curled into an almost timid smile. No look of concern marred her middle-aged face. I straightened up and took a step to the side. Whatever was going on here, it didn’t involve me.

  “Ren,” Herman breathed, gaze settled on Booth. His forehead wrinkled, and he shook his head back and forth. Why was he calling Booth that name? Ren? It looked like he was asking himself the same question.

  “Sobek.” Booth waved her hands, indicating for him to come to her.

  He tilted his head. “My name’s Herman.”

  “Sobek,” Booth repeated. “Come here.”

  Herman stumbled toward her, arms flopping at his sides, gaze still transfixed on her face, almost trance-like. His eyes remained wide, yet soft. When he stopped a foot in front of her, she took off her glasses.

  Herman staggered. “Ren?” he whispered. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

  That made two of us.

  “You will, Sobek. You will.” She did something weird with her hands—the thumb of her right hand pressed against the center of his forehead as she gripped his head. The thumb of her other hand poked the centre of his chest while her hand rested against his pectoral muscle.

  Huh?

  She mumbled something, repeating herself, over and over again.

  I leaned closer.

  “Remember,” she said. “Remember.”

  Herman’s glazed eyes cleared, and he looked at Booth, really looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. “Renenutet,” he whispered. “My love.”

  Before I could say, “get a room,” the two were making out like a couple of high school students at their first dance, with me awkwardly standing to the side.

  “I…umm…I’ll give you some space.” I backed out of the room. They didn’t notice.

  ****

  From my car, I texted Booth the information about the Kappa. I’d forgotten to tell her about the Supe Slayer when I saw her earlier because, well, I didn’t want to initiate conversation in the car and somehow later…it seemed a bit inappropriate for the moment. And now, I knew she was indisposed. I hoped the text would fulfill my agreement to her.

  I scrolled through my messages and bit my lip. I’d texted Wick and Tristan the information about the Kappa as soon as I found out, but hadn’t heard back from either of them. Had the Kappa already gotten to them? Was I too late?

  I picked up my phone and paused. Who did I call first? Tristan or Wick? Or should I stop by and check up on them? But which one first? They didn’t exactly live on the same block. They were both powerful Alphas. They should be all right. Maybe I could send another group text to them and ask if they were okay.

  Coward.

  I blew air out of my lungs and stared at
my stupid cell phone as if it should give me the answers.

  It vibrated, and then started chirping. Tristan’s name popped up on the screen.

  My heart caught in my throat. I fumbled the phone, but somehow managed to hit the right button. “Hello?” I answered, my voice hitting several octaves above natural.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “About to drive home. Why?”

  “I want to make sure you’re safe. This Kappa…if it has psionic abilities, it could pick up from others that you’re onto him, or her. I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”

  “Being alone is probably the safest thing for me right now. The thing is drawn to groups of supernaturals. No way am I having a party.”

  Tristan paused. “Will you let me check in on you?”

  “Promise to behave?”

  “Absolutely not,” he said.

  “I have some research to do. Give me a couple hours.”

  His voice was all purr. “So you can anticipate my visit? Deal.”

  I groaned, knowing I’d made a mistake somehow and said goodbye.

  At the next stoplight, I checked my phone—still no reply from Wick. My chest hollowed out. I dialed his number, and it went straight to voicemail. Instead of turning at the next intersection, which would take me home, I kept straight and headed for Wick’s. My heart hammered in my chest.

  ****

  Cars lined the street, and I had to park two blocks from Wick’s. What the hell? I slammed my car door in frustration and trekked to the house. I heard voices, laughter, and music from a distance and knew what brought everyone to his home. Idiot! He was having a pack meeting? Now, of all times? Sure, tonight was a full moon, but still…

  When I stomped into the living room, anger prevented me from tossing my purse on the counter like I normally did. Most of Wick’s inner circle, including Wick, sat on the couches. And Christine. She sprawled across Wick’s lap, straddling him. Her head twisted around like a possessed Chucky doll to cast me a smug smile. The she-bitch had challenged me for dominance a few weeks ago and lost in front of her entire pack. She hated my guts because she wanted to be at Wick’s side, and he wanted me. Or so I thought.

  Maybe Wick preferred a sure thing to the unknown challenge I represented. His hand on her ass definitely attested to that.