Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

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Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 175

by Colleen Gleason


  “I think that’s enough for one day.” I stood up to leave.

  “That was enough for a lifetime. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to see it through,” He hung his head, his voice filled with remorse.

  “Apart from having to deal with Masarelli, I’m glad that you weren’t.”

  And I meant it. Matthison was the closest thing I’d had to a real father figure. Losing him would have broken something inside of me.

  “Yeah, well, you better get used to dealing with him because he’s your primary contact for a while,” Matthison put an end to the mushy stuff before it even got started.

  “I can handle him,” With a wink I walked out of the room.

  “That’s what worries me.” His laughter followed me down the hall

  I walked out of the hospital still torn between feeling angry Matthison had been given vamp blood without knowing it and being grateful that Agrona had given it to him. In the end, grateful won over angry. It’s like that old saying about the gift horse. I doubted Agrona gave gifts like that very often—if ever. Matthison wasn’t questioning his recovery. As long as there weren’t any ill effects, then who was I to complain?

  “What is the point of me giving you a cell phone if you refuse to answer it?” Aidan sounded a tad bit irritated.

  I jumped at the interruption of my thoughts. “What are you doing here?”

  “Making an unnecessary trip. But since you won’t take my calls, I’m left with no choice.”

  “I turned it off in the hospital. How’d you get here anyway?” I fumbled through my bag for his car keys.

  “I have other means of transportation,” he said, trying to sound mysterious.

  “Nice try. Too bad for you I know vampires don’t fly.”

  “Is that so? Some of the elders can move so fast that it feels like flying.”

  I thought about that for a second. How old did a vampire have to be to be considered an elder? Aidan was at least 150 years old. Did that qualify? Probably not. Agrona’s at least twice his age, and I’ve never seen her move that fast.

  “I used the Council’s car service.”

  “Where’d you park?” He held out his hand for the keys.

  With a pout on my face, I reluctantly held out the keys. “You’re pathetic, you know that?” He chuckled.

  I closed my hand around the keys and hauled ass across the parking lot. Aidan was leaning against the passenger side of the car before I got within sight of it. I was totally out of breath, but he hadn't even broken a sweat.

  “No fair,” I panted.

  “Vampire.” Aidan pointed to himself. “I even gave you a head start.”

  “Yeah, because you wanted to follow me to the car,”

  “You're the one who tried to outrun a vampire.”

  “I kind of thought that you'd let me win.” Still trying to catch my breath, I rubbed the stitch out of my side.

  “And what would you learn from my letting you win?”

  My new pet had previously been lying down on the floor in the back and picked that moment to hurdle over the front seat and press his huge paws against the passenger side window.

  Aidan jumped at the unexpected sight of the ethereal beast materializing in his car. Arawn said it was my guardian, and it wouldn’t leave my side, and so far he had been true to his word. Luckily the Cwn Annwfn could switch to its ghost-like form at will, or Animal Control would have come into the hospital looking for me.

  “You didn’t have to sic your dog on me, Maurin. I was going to let you drive anyway,” Aidan slowly opened the car door, preparing for a slobbery attack.

  Maybe having a dog wasn’t going to be that bad after all.

  We pulled up in front of the station with ten minutes to spare. Aidan peeled his fingers out of the dash and got out of the car.

  “You may not be aware of this, but it is possible for me to die in a car crash,” Aidan looked a little green.

  “I don't think cars catch on fire or explode anywhere near as much as they show on TV.” I gave him a little wink. “Do we have enough time to grab a coffee first?”

  “Not really. I'll get you a cup inside.” He gestured for me to lead the way.

  “You've obviously never had the coffee here.”

  “Your dog isn’t going to eat my car, is it?” Aidan looked genuinely concerned for the classic car.

  “I don’t think he eats at all. He was fine at the hospital. I’m pretty sure that he’ll be fine until we get back.”

  “Pretty sure?”

  I just shrugged and headed inside.

  Masarelli was waiting in the lobby. The door had barely closed behind us as he shuffled us into the briefing room.

  “I was hoping that you'd get here early. The team will be coming in a few minutes. This is going to work, right?” Masarelli was obviously having second thoughts.

  “It definitely will,” I tried to sound reassuring, hoping for the best. “We'll wipe their memories to the point where I came back. Then, instead of remembering me grabbing Mahalia and disappearing, they'll think that we all walked out together.”

  “No they won't,” Aidan’s expression was cold, his tone flat.

  Masarelli and I turned to stare at him.

  “What?” I was, totally confused.

  “You two didn't work this out before you came here?” Masarelli shook his head in disgust.

  “I didn’t think that we'd disagree on the details,” I threw a poignant look in Aidan’s direction.

  “They will have no memories of their own from the time that Mahalia started the banishing spell.” Aidan put enough force into his tone to stop anyone from arguing.

  Except, I wasn’t just anyone and that tone didn’t work on me.

  “Why do you need to wipe their minds that far back? Most of them weren't even inside the warehouse.”

  “Are you a witch?” Aidan asked.

  “No,” I answered, even though I knew Aidan knew better.

  “Are you a demon?”

  “Through and through,” I gave the stupid question the stupid answer it deserved.

  “Maurin,” Aidan rested a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

  “No. We don't need to go back that far. It's too much of their memory to take,” His touch did nothing to quell the fears I had about mind-fucking a room of Salem’s finest.

  “We're arguing over semantics. If most of them weren't in the warehouse anyway, then there isn’t much to wipe. We're taking them back to the beginning of the banishing spell. They will only remember the demon being banished, and that will be the end of it.”

  “What gives, vamp? Why don't you want them to remember anything after the banishing spell started?” Masarelli didn’t even bother to hide his suspicion.

  Clearly exasperated, Aidan sighed.

  “I suppose that you're an expert on glamouring now, human. Look, the simpler the glamour, then the easier it is for the mind to accept it. Most of your team has had training to resist being glamoured, so we can't over-complicate things.”

  “Maybe you're not the vamp for the job then. Maybe I need someone capable of planting whatever memory I want.” Masarelli puffed his chest out in challenge.

  All this time with the department and he’d learned nothing.

  “Slow down. You don’t need access to anyone or anything that can plant whatever you want inside someone else's mind.”

  That was a terrifying thought and there was no way we were introducing SPTF to anyone with that skill set.

  “I am capable of that and more, Detective. I could glamour you into quitting SPTF to pursue a burning desire to work an I-95 tollbooth. I can glamour the entire station if need be, but the more complicated and unbelievable the story, the more likely it is the subconscious will poke holes in it.” Aidan’s irritation practically vibrated off him. “If you want me to do this, then we go all the way back to the banishing spell.”

  I tossed the idea of glamouring Masarelli around in my head for a couple of seconds. I couldn't hel
p it. It was tempting.

  “It's really the best way?” Messing with people’s minds didn’t sit well with me, but if there really wasn’t any other option I guess it had to be done.

  Aidan simply nodded.

  “Okay. No more arguments from me.”

  Aidan arched a brow. “I doubt that very much.”

  “Fine, fine, agreed. Let's just get it over with.” Masarelli walked away to round up his team.

  “Is he always like that?” Aidan jerked a thumb in Masarelli’s direction.

  “Try working with him for three years.”

  “I've already had my fill of him, figuratively speaking.”

  Masarelli’s team filed in and filled the seats in SPTF's briefing room, ready to hear how a non-magical person had managed to make three people disappear. I walked over to the little podium where Matthison always set his copy of a case file and waited for Aidan. He didn’t say anything, but I knew he was doing his thing because every face in the crowd had gone slack. It was over almost as soon as it began. Aidan was nothing if not proficient. No wonder he was the go-to vampire for clean-up and crowd control. He just wiped a roomful of SPTF's version of a SWAT team in under a minute. I was officially impressed.

  Aidan released their minds, and one by one they went from catatonic back to their normal selves. An uneasy anticipation took hold of the room as we all waited for something else to happen. SPTF was waiting for us, while Masarelli and I were waiting on Aidan. He leaned in until he was close enough to whisper in my ear.

  “They think that I'm here to personally thank them on behalf of the Council for their assistance. Introduce me as Council PR.”

  “That’s supposed to be more believable than my story? When have you ever known the Council to thank anybody?” I couldn’t hide my sarcasm.

  “It's a new day. The first of many where the Council works side by side with SPTF.”

  “Really?” That was news to me.

  “No, not really. Did you forget to shield or something?” Aidan’s sarcasm rivaled my own. "I believe that you were the one concerned about too much mind-tampering. You might want to introduce me before the window to tie up the loose end of us being here closes and I have to start all over again."

  I quickly did my bit and cleared the stage for Aidan, who delivered his little speech about working together to ensure that Salem was a city safe for Humans and Others alike with the cool confidence of the most seasoned politician.

  Masarelli deflated like one of those unplugged lawn ornaments when it was obvious Aidan's story had taken hold. He was quite convincing. Even the most-hardened member of Masarelli’s team left the room looking inspired and determined to bring anyone who threatened our delicate cohabitation to justice.

  “Thank you for coming today, Aidan. I know it meant a lot to my team to hear the Council appreciates their hard work,” Masarelli extended a hand.

  Aidan took his hand in a firm grip, but with enough care not to impose his vampiric strength. “My pleasure, Detective. I am sure that we'll be working together again.”

  It took me a second to realize what had just happened. Aidan grabbed my arm and led me away as the surprise started to show on my face.

  “Did you glamour him too?” I whispered in disbelief.

  “Yes, now keep moving,” Aidan practically dragging me to the door when I hadn’t realized my feet had stopped moving.

  Masarelli called after me.

  Aidan's grip tightened and we kept walking as if we didn't hear him calling my name. As the sound of Masarelli’s shoes hitting the linoleum floor picked up and his voice got louder, we had no choice but to stop.

  “Damn, Kincaide, what are you, deaf?” Masarelli asked, forgetting the fact a vampire could have heard him a block away.

  “Sorry, we were deep in conversation. I guess I wasn't paying attention to anything else.”

  “I've heard that vampires have that effect on people.” Masarelli’s expression darkened for the first time since Aidan had tampered with his mind. “I wanted to give you this.” He handed me my phone. “We found it in Ms. Costa's apartment.”

  “Thanks,”

  Masarelli didn't say she was dead. He didn't have to. I had held on to a shred of hope she was away visiting relatives or something, but deep down I knew the truth all along. I shoved the phone in my coat pocket and walked out of the station in silence. We drove back to my apartment in silence too. I wasn’t up for conversation. My dog—that I really needed to name—rested his massive head on my shoulders in response to my mood. The lack of weight and warmth surprised me. So did the comfort it gave me.

  We pulled up to my apartment building, and the black cloud that had been hanging over my head since Masarelli had handed me my phone darkened. I trudged up the stairs past Ms. Costa’s apartment, unable to bring myself to even look at her apartment door. I vowed to keep my life out of the second floor apartment as I made my way up the last flight of stairs with Aidan and my dog in tow.

  I kicked off my boots and plopped on the couch. “I need to give you a name.” My new best friend sat on the floor behind me.

  “What?” Aidan made his way into the kitchen to make coffee.

  “I was talking to the dog. He needs a name.”

  “What about Conry? It means ‘king of hounds’.”

  “I love that. How do you even know that?” I scratched Conry behind the ears. He didn’t seem to have any objections to the name.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to read.”

  “Since we’re on the subject of things that you know, why don’t you tell me about Agrona’s visits to the hospital.”

  “What was that? I can’t hear you over the coffee grinder.” Raising his voice, he started to grind the beans.

  “You’ll have to turn that off sooner or later!”

  There was a knock at the door, quickly followed by the doorbell. “Who the hell could that be?” I wondered aloud, since no one rang the buzzer to be let into the building.

  “Don’t answer that,” Aidan poked his head out of the kitchen.

  I should have looked out the peephole. “Too late.”

  Cash stood in the hallway beaming. “Hey neighbor.”

  “Told you so.” Aidan grumbled, leaning against the wall like he was holding up the entrance to my kitchen.

  I really hate it when people say, ‘I told you so.’

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed reading Witch Hunt, the second book in Maurin’s series. Reader feedback is extremely important to me so please leave a review on the site where you purchased this book.

  Keep reading for a sample of the next book in the series Wolfsbane.

  If you'd like to learn more about new releases appearances, contests, and give-aways be sure to sign up for my newsletter. http://www.rachelrawlings.com/Newsletter-Sign-Up.html

  or stop by www.facebook.com/rachelrawlingsauthor. It's the best to place to keep in touch with me!

  Thank you for your support!

  Rachel

  Books By Rachel Rawlings

  The Maurin Kincaide Series

  The Morrigna

  Witch Hunt

  Wolfsbane

  Blood Bath

  Mistletoe Meltdown (short story)

  Ill Fated

  The Jax Rhoades Series

  Payable On Death

  Payable On Demand (fall of 2016)

  Sherri 2.0 (stand alone short)

  LOTUS PETALS

  by Gina Drayer

  * * *

  ONE

  July twentieth

  Karma might be a bitch, but death had a sick sense of humor. It never failed. Every time I made plans for a night out, someone died.

  “I’m sorry I had to drag you guys away from the club,” I apologized. Again.

  “Olivia, you haven’t had a Friday free since you took the job with Ian,” Charlie complained from the passenger seat. "It’s like you’re his own personal whipping boy. If I’d known you
were into that kind of thing, I could have introduced you to some people I know.” She cracked an invisible whip.

  Zoe snorted from the back of the car and added, “Charlie’s right. You need some time off. Why couldn’t Ian take this call?”

  “Because I’m his assistant,” I sighed. “It's how these things work. Low man on the totem pole. I get stuck with the death-and-donuts shift.” When I accepted the job from Ian McCarty last fall, I hadn't realized that”'deputy” in “deputy coroner” meant I would be assigned to all the middle-of-the-night calls for suspicious deaths and accidents.

  “Tell me again why you thought taking that job was a good idea? You already do the job of three people at Armstrong’s,” Charlie said.

  “It’s beneficial for the funeral home. Business has been slow since Terry died.” Terry Armstrong had been a pillar of our small town. I was a poor substitute, but if I was going to keep his family’s legacy open and thriving, I needed an image boost. “The more people see me as a valuable member of this community, the better it will be for all of us.”

  Charlie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Sure. Our business problems are because of your public image. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re a witch.”

  “Charlie, you’re not helping,” Zoe gasped from the backseat, the admonishment evident in her tone. She laid a hand on my shoulder. "I don’t think people mind that you’re a witch, sweetie. They’re just getting used to the idea. People will come around. You’ll see.”

  A heavy silence filled the car as I pulled onto the gravel road that led to the lake. Charlie and I have been having this argument since we were teens. It had always been easy for her. She was never ashamed. With her tattoos and shocking hair color—blue at the moment—she practically had WITCH branded across her forehead.

  I never flaunted my magic, even though everyone knew about it. Charlie said my secrecy only encouraged people to be afraid of me. She never understood my need to be cautious. I had a public image as a funeral director, and old prejudices were slow to die.

 

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