“How long have you worked for the council?”
“Almost ten years, though it seems like far longer.”
He doesn’t follow up with another question, seemingly content to stare out the window for now. I stay tense as we drive through town. The coven lands are on the north side. It’s almost fifty acres with its own subdivision as well as several large buildings, including an old church only coven members are permitted to attend.
The old mansion that McGuinness lives in is in the center of their little town. Before you can get to that, however, you have to pass through the main gate. I can see it already. The black, wrought iron gate looms over the road, both a sign and a warning. I’ve never tested the enchantments, but I know there are many. The Ignatius Coven isn’t weak even if they are in a remote area.
I come to a stop next to the guard’s station and roll down my window.
“Do we have an appointment or what?” I ask as the guard approaches.
“No, I thought a surprise visit would be more fun,” Reilly says with a dimpled smile.
The guard leans down to look through the window. “Name?”
“Olivia Carter,” I say. Reilly stays silent.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Nope, but ol’ Dermot McGuinness is an old friend. I’m sure he’ll want to see me,” I say with a straight face.
The guard snorts then points at Reilly.“What about you?”
“I’m just her security. John Smith if you need a name,” he lies smoothly.
The guard steps back, talking to someone through his radio. They argue back and forth for a moment, then the guard waves the gate open. I pull through, surprised they’re actually letting me inside.
“You know they’re probably planning on killing me or something as soon as we get inside.”
“We can only hope they try. I’d probably get a bonus for the PR from that alone,” Reilly tapping a long finger against his chin. “I’ve heard McGuinness is a hothead.”
“That’s a serious understatement.”
The main road runs right into the circular driveway in front of the mansion. The lawn is perfectly manicured, with a large fountain spurting water about ten feet in the air in the center of the driveway.
Two ornate pillars stand on each side of the door. The wooden trim around the large double door is carved into two figures, one holding a bundle of herbs, the other with fire in one hand and a lightning bolt in the other. Aris and Izul, the witches that founded the original council a millennia ago.
I park right up front and step out of the car, feeling wonderfully underdressed. The big, wooden door opens when we’re halfway there and Baldy steps outside. He looks rather angry.
“Hey, old friend,” I shout with a wave as we approach.
“You are not welcome here Olivia Carter,” he says in his deep voice. His skin is already tinged gray, it’s like he doesn’t trust me.
“So welcoming, as always,” I say with a grin. I’m a little mad that this is fun. Reilly is going to be smug about it later, I just know it. “Where’s McGuinnessMcGuinness?”
“You will not be seeing McGuinness,” Baldy replies, crossing his arms. “You have one chance to leave before we report you to the police for trespassing.”
Reilly takes one step forward, and then simply walks past Baldy through the open door. The only evidence he didn’t teleport is the rush of wind I feel as he moves. How is he this fast?
“What the fuck are you doing!” Baldy bellows, rushing after Reilly. I jog after them, I definitely want to see it if Reilly beats the shit out of him.
I step through the door as Baldy gets a hand around Reilly’s arm. Reilly pivots and smacks him in the chest. Baldy wheezes and flies through the air, past me, and straight into the wall by the door. The sheetrock crumbles under the impact.
Baldy wrenches himself free, his skin now completely gray, and runs full speed back at Reilly. Impervs are impressively dense. Reilly sidesteps the reckless charge and winks at me. Baldy skids to a stop at the base of the staircase that dominates the room. He whips around, preparing to charge again. He is not a fast learner.
“Enough!”
At the top of the staircase is McGuinness, his face as red as ever, and Scarlett on his left. On his right is someone that I don’t recognize though. She’s young but most likely at least eighteen. She has platinum blonde hair and looks like she weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet.
“McGuinness, how lovely to see you,” Reilly says, spreading his arms wide as though he’s expecting McGuinness to rush forward for a hug.
“Who the hell are you?” McGuinness growls.
“Reilly Walsh, the representative sent by the vampire council to investigate the activities of the terrorist group known as the New World Reformation in relation to the recent incident in your quaint little town.”
McGuinness snorts. “That’s been handled. The witch council is considering the case closed, do the vampires have nothing better to do?”
“Case closed? How sloppy,” Reilly says, shaking his head in disapproval. “The main conspirator escaped custody. Do the witches have no intention of tracking him down?”
“We’ll leave that to JHAPI. What do you want?”
“Aaron Hall,” Reilly says simply.
McGuinness laughs. “Then we’re both out of luck. That little shit turned up after some kind of bender. Confused, barely able to remember his name.”
Oops. Guess I brewed that memory potion a bit too strong, it’s not like I could test it beforehand though.
“He hasn’t been able to perform even the most basic magic since. His family had me send him home to be examined.”
“A witch losing their magic right before it’s needed? How convenient,” Reilly scoffs. “That’s impossible and we both know it.”
“Perhaps you can ask Olivia how it happened?” McGuinness snaps. “She was seen talking to him the night he disappeared.”
I snort. “So did he refuse to help me find the missing vampires because he had already lost his magic? Or is he just as much a prick as you are?”
I stare McGuinness down, but my heart is pounding. I’m sure Reilly can hear it. He’s going to have questions later, especially since I didn’t admit to knowing Aaron. I should never have come here. Reilly is more demon than vampire with his shitty bargains.
“We’re done here. You can get out, or I’ll have you removed,” McGuinness growls, crossing his arms. Scarlett and the blonde girl step forward like eager guard dogs.
Water wraps around the blonde girl’s arm like a snake. I twitch when I feel a drop of water hit my cheek.
Reilly steps in front of me, his shoulders hunch slightly and his posture shifts into something far more menacing.
“Attacking a representative sent by the council violates every treaty we have, McGuinness. Are you sure you want to be that coven?” Reilly growls, all pretense of amiability now dropped.
“I am done entertaining the whims of the vampire council. See yourselves out.”
McGuinness walks away, but Scarlett takes a step down the stairs. She is eager to fight, as always.
Reilly turns his back on them and offers me his arm. “Alas, a wasted trip.”
I slip my arm through his, even though it pains me to take my eyes off the threats. “As usual.”
5
I don’t know why he hasn’t asked me about meeting with Aaron yet. We’re halfway back to town and he’s been acting like nothing is wrong.
“Is there somewhere I can drop you off?” I ask, uncomfortable with the silence. “I’m supposed to have dinner with someone.”
“Who?”
“Lydia Holland.”
“Ah, Javier Moreno’s attorney. Is she a friend, or simply acting as your lawyer?”
“Both,” I say tapping my thumb on the steering wheel.
“I’ll join you. I’ve heard she’s a very interesting woman.”
“You’re not invited.”
“Good thing
I don’t care,” he says, flashing those dimples again. “If you’d like to explain why you didn’t tell me you had met with Aaron Hall recently, I might be persuaded to reconsider?”
I grit my teeth. “There’s nothing to explain. The conversation was so unimportant that’d I’d forgotten all about it.”
“You are a very bad liar.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say as I gun it through a light that just turned yellow.
“Where are we having dinner?” Reilly asks.
I sigh. “What difference does it make? You can’t eat.”
“So hostile,” Reilly pouts. “And I could eat something, it would just be disgusting.”
I drive just past Maybelle’s and park along the street. The main dinner crowd is already filtering out.
“How quaint,” Reilly says as he steps out of the car. “Maybelle’s Cafe. That’s very southern. Do they have chicken fried steak and pies?”
I roll my eyes. “Do you ever shut up?”
He mimes locking his mouth shut and throwing away the key. I bite my tongue to keep from smiling, pivot on my heel, and walk toward the restaurant. He catches up to me almost immediately and even manages to open the door.
I hurry through the store and up the stairs to the cafe. The smell of food is making my mouth water.
Lydia is sitting in a booth in the corner, her nose buried in her phone. She’s in a suit as usual, but her steel-gray hair is down and curled nicely. It does nothing to make her look less intimidating.
“He insisted on joining,” I say as I plop into the chair across from Lydia.
She looks up confused, until Reilly sits down next to me.
“Reilly Walsh, council representative,” he says, extending his hand across the table. Lydia reacts much better to meeting him than I did and shakes his hand firmly, all trace of surprise gone from her face.
“Welcome to Pecan Grove, Mr. Walsh. How are you enjoying your stay so far?”
“It’s been extremely pleasant,” he inclines his head with a smile. “Olivia has been kind enough to agree to assist me, as well as drive me around town this evening.”
I look at him like he’s crazy, and I’m starting to suspect he might actually be.
“Oh, has she?” Lydia says. She smiles at me broadly, but her arched brow says I’m going to get fussed at later. At least Lydia understands he’s full of shit too.
“Yeah, it’s been a riot.” I cross my arms and look around for the waiter. I need food if I’m going to endure this.
He appears right next to the table as though I summoned him. His face is familiar.
“I’m Kevin and I’ll be your waiter this evening, can I get you started with drinks?”
Ah, of course. He was my waiter the last time I ate here. With Martinez.
“Water, please,” Lydia requests with a smile.
Kevin turns to me next, his pen ready.
“Coffee and the biggest chicken fried steak you have, lots of gravy. Also a basket of biscuits.”
Kevin smiles as he jots the order down, he must remember me. “Would you like to go ahead and place your food order as well?” He asks, turning back to Lydia.
“Sure,” Lydia says, scanning her menu. “The Cowboy Stew.”
Kevin nods and takes her menu, then looks at Reilly.
“Nothing, thanks,” Reilly says, smiling wide enough to show his fangs.
Kevin the-almost-unflappable pales slightly, takes the other menus, and walks away at a perfectly normal pace even if his shoulders are a bit stiff. Most humans don’t think they’re scared of vampires until they meet one. Witches and weres are easier to treat just like anyone else, but vampires creep people out.
“So,” Reilly says, folding his hands under his chin. “A human lawyer working for vampires and representing a witch. Quite the collection of friends you have.”
“I suppose,” Lydia says, matching his posture. “What about you? The youngest vampire in your position, though young is an odd word to pin on you. Sired by one of the most powerful clans, and in fact, sired by the vampire that most believe will succeed Claudius when he finally turns to dust. I imagine you have much more interesting friends.”
Sired by the Sacrum Tenebris Clan leader? Seriously? There were three original vampire clans once paranormals started getting organized. Sacrum Tenebris, Familia de Sangre, and Ānjìng De Sǐwáng. They’re all still in power today, in some way. Sacrum Tenebris and Familia de Sangre are two parts of the vampire council. The third is a newer clan that formed around the time Europeans began settling North America.
A cold chill runs down my spine. I’ve been threatening and being a huge pain in the ass, to someone way out of my league. This guy has the power to make me disappear. It wouldn’t even be hard for him.
“You’re not wrong,” Reilly laughs, his dimple brightening his face and almost distracting from the hint of fangs under his lips. “Still, this town has certainly attracted all types.”
“There’s more room to do things a little differently out here where we’re unimportant,” Lydia agrees with a nod. “That attracts the right sort of person.”
“Very differently indeed. Moreno’s clan is certainly a shining example of propriety. How long has it been since there was a death? Before the last week of course.”
Lydia’s hand tightens around her silverware, still wrapped up in the little paper napkin. “A little over seven months.”
I look at Lydia, a little confused. Only seven months? Javier had stressed that they took every care to not kill the neckers that came to them. Surely they weren’t just killing people left and right before I showed up.
“It’s lovely to see such a high survival rate among the new sires and the clan’s resources. Moreno’s methods are widely admired, well—by the people that matter at least,” Reilly says leaning back in his chair.
Resources. He says it like they aren’t people. It’d be less insulting for him to call them neckers. And I can’t imagine who wouldn’t approve of what Javier has done. It’s better for everyone.
“Olivia is coming to give the bi-weekly checkups tonight actually. If you are interested in the process I’m sure she can go over it with you,” Lydia says, her hand still tight on the silverware.
“I needed to speak with Moreno, so the timing is perfect. I am very interested in the process.”
Kevin appears with the basket of biscuits and I eagerly grab one. I need something to do with my hands and my mouth before I start asking questions that make me look stupid. Questions I obviously should have asked sooner. I was just so focused on the paycheck.
I shove half a biscuit in my mouth and chew, my cheek puffed out like a squirrel. Reilly looks at me with a grimace distorting his face. I glare at him and take another big bite.
“Timmons sent me an interesting email,” Lydia says, turning to me.
I swallow uncomfortably. I should have asked for a water too. “Concerning Martinez?”
“Yep,” Lydia said, making her lips pop on the p. “Apparently the NWR released a video featuring Martinez claiming they were attacked, unprovoked, for defending themselves against a marauding vampire.”
I rub my hands over my face. “But there are no clues on where he is, are there?”
“Not yet, at least not any the JHAPI agents are willing to share with us,” Lydia says, stealing a biscuit. “If they can narrow down the region they’ll be able to put a Finder on the case. No such luck yet.”
Our food and drinks arrive together. The smell makes my mouth water. Kevin’s hands only shake a little when he has to lean past Reilly to set my plate in front of me.
“Thanks, Kevin,” I say with a smile.
“No problem, need anything else?”
“I’ll take a water,” I say, already cutting into my chicken fried steak.
Kevin nods and hurries away. The table is quiet for the next minute or so as I shovel food in my mouth, Reilly watches with horrified fascination, and Lydia looks between us
her brows pinched slightly.
“I understand you intend to help with the investigation?” Lydia asks in between bites.
“Somewhat. The council wants reassurance the NWR’s influence is gone from the town. They are, of course, interested in locating Martinez as well.”
My water arrives and I gulp it down eagerly.
“Olivia has generously offered to assist with the investigation while I’m here and, if any leads on Martinez are found, lend a hand in apprehending him.”
Lydia’s eyes flick to mine. I shake my head slightly, and she lets it go, for now.
“The clan is willing to help as well. You have Javier’s number?”
“I do.”
I see Maybelle come up the stairs to the cafe. I catch her eye I’m about to wave when she sees Reilly. She freezes, her shoulders tensing. She immediately turns and walks back downstairs. I poke at the last bite of my chicken fried steak. Her hatred for him seems almost personal, though I have no idea how she would have met him before this.
“Can you slide out? I need to use the restroom,” I say poking Reilly’s arm, then immediately remembering who is. He doesn’t seem to mind though, and slides out of the booth before I have a chance to get unnecessarily nervous.
I slide out as well and start winding my way to the back of the restaurant. I do need to pee, and then I intend to track down Maybelle and see why she’s acting so oddly.
I pass by a crowded table, bumping into a chair. I feel a hand on my arm and turn around to tell them to let go before I rip their fingers off, but my words die in my throat.
He’s a spitting image of his father. Dark, almost black eyes. His hair is shaved short now, nothing like the long twists he had worn in college.
“Zachary,” I swallow. “It’s been a while.”
“Four years,” he says, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His hand is still tight on my arm. “Four years since the day my father died and the girl I called my sister disappeared without a trace. And that’s all you have to say? It’s been a while?”
Price of Magic: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Witch's Bite Series Book 2) Page 4
