Forget Me Not [Hell Hath No Fury] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Alexia Ward

  Luca rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll help you in any way.” He paused before replying, “Do you think a rogue wolf shifter is responsible for all the disappearances?”

  Victor shrugged. “Maybe, or maybe it’s something else. This town is teeming with many dangerous beings.”

  There were vampires, wolf shifters, witches, and many more legendary creatures in town. On the surface, they all looked like humans, but deep down they were all monsters. Most were good, like Victor and Luca, but there were many who were bad.

  Vampires under Helder’s reign, wolf shifters under Simon Kruger’s reign, and certain witches under Michael Smart’s reign made sure order was maintained in town and the county. But there were many paranormal beings who loved to rain terror and destruction on the residences in the county. Could one of these beings be responsible for all the missing persons’ cases?

  Luca checked his watch. It was the tenth time he’d done so in the past ten minutes. Luca hated sitting around doing nothing.

  “Why don’t you head back home and see if Father told Nathan or Kyle why he was meeting with Stellan?”

  Nathan and Kyle were twins whom Helder had turned a couple of years after Luca. They were quite close to Helder, executing his every wish and order.

  “All right. I’ll call you after I talk to them. In the meantime, what will you do when Steve comes out?”

  Victor shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out as I go along.”

  Luca exited Victor’s car and slipped behind the wheel of his Tucson. The minute he drove off, the police station entry doors opened and out walked Steve and Harry.

  Victor sat ramrod straight in his seat, observing them quizzically. For a second, he thought he’d get out of his car and pretend to bump into Steve again.

  But when he saw Harry point to a car parked at the end of the street, Victor realized they’d hailed a car while they’d been at the station.

  He turned on the engine and waited for them to get into the back seat of the blue Subaru Impreza. As soon as the Impreza sped off, Victor followed a safe distance away.

  Their next destination was a complete mystery.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You’re sure you want to do this?” Harry asked checking the text message Brett had sent him.

  “Yeah, just tell him our meeting with Officer Reinhold was rescheduled and we’ll talk to him later,” Steve answered while he deleted the same exact message Brett had sent him from his phone.

  Brett had texted Steve for an update on their meeting while they were still at the station. Steve hadn’t replied, hoping to get more info later today.

  But since his text had remained unanswered, Brett had decided to send another to Harry. He probably figured Harry would surely answer right away. He always did whenever Steve sent him messages. Harry said it drove him crazy waiting. He preferred replying right away and clearing the text or email from his phone.

  Steve could see uneasiness mount in Harry. He fidgeted, tapping his finger against his phone’s leather fold over casing.

  “But there won’t be any more meetings with Officer Reinhold. He told us the cases are still open, and he can’t discuss them with us or anyone else until they’re closed.” Harry waved his hand in the air. “I still don’t know why he couldn’t have told you that on the phone. Why did he make you come here?”

  Steve pursed his lips, thinking. “I’ve been wondering about it. His attitude changed. On the phone, he sounded friendly and cooperative, but when we met, his attitude changed completely.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “Well, I think someone got to him.”

  Harry turned in his seat, crossed his right leg under his left and peered keenly at Steve. “Really? Who could that be?”

  “I don’t know.” Steve nibbled at his lower lip contemplating, then said, “He was obviously trying to avoid us. He purposely made us wait so long, hoping we’d get fed up and leave.”

  He pointed his finger inquisitively at Harry. “Did you notice the annoyed look that came over him when Officer Trent said we were still in the waiting room?”

  Harry huffed. “I sure did. I was fuming.”

  “And I think him bringing us into the interrogation room because there wasn’t any free room available was an excuse.”

  “Why? You think he wanted to interrogate us?”

  “We know nothing. No, I think someone wanted to make sure he didn’t tell us anything. Did you notice how nervous he got the more questions we asked?”

  “I just thought he was getting annoyed,” Harry assessed.

  “Annoyed, yes, but edgy, too. Like he was scared he’d let something slip while he skated around our questions.”

  “I saw him steal a nervous glance over his shoulder at the mirror when he said that none of the reported people missing had showed up dead or alive, like they disappeared off the face of the earth.”

  “I think he didn’t mean to let that slip out and was scared his supervisor or whoever it was who was listening and spying on us would be angry.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. Okay, I’ll buy us some time. I’ll text Brett we’ll talk to him later,” Harry said, staring down at his phone screen. It seemed Brett had sent him yet another text. Harry began to type fervently.

  The twenty-something Uber driver with thick black-framed glasses he kept pushing up the bridge of his narrow nose, said as he parked on the curb, “There’s the place you’re looking for.” He pointed to the two-story gray building with long narrow windows and no balcony or porch.

  “Thanks. What do we owe you?” Steve asked, digging his fingers into his back pocket to grab his wallet.

  “Sixteen twenty.”

  Steve handed him a twenty. “Keep the change.”

  They exited the car and stared at the building while the Uber car drove off. Steve had not expected the place to look so dull on the outside.

  Guy Thicke seemed to enjoy living life on the edge if his daring pictures and videos on his blog were any indication. Steve had imagined his dwelling would reflect his daring attitude, but it didn’t. It represented no attitude, no voice, only silence and obscurity.

  “You ready?” Steve asked while he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

  Harry nodded as he purged his breath and tapped his camera bag. “Yup.”

  Steve rang the doorbell. He rolled back and forth on the ball of his feet. A minute passed with no response. He rang again and knocked. There was still no answer.

  Harry motioned to the doorbell next to the other door. “Why don’t you ring that one?”

  “But that’s for the apartment downstairs.”

  Harry shrugged. “So? Maybe they’ll be able to tell us when Guy is coming home.”

  “Good idea.”

  Steve pushed the button. The sound of shrilling bell chimes seeped into his ears.

  A middle-aged man in a cotton undershirt and worn, faded jeans, with greasy hair that looked like the man hadn’t showered or bathed in weeks, answered the door. “Yeah,” he said rudely.

  Steve offered him the friendliest of smiles. “Hi, I’m Steve Cain and this is Harry Firth. We work for the online newspaper Virtual News Here and Now. We’re here to see Mr. Thicke.”

  The man didn’t remove his cigar from his lips when he replied, “He isn’t here. He’s gone.”

  “Do you know when he’s coming back?” Harry asked.

  The man tsked. “Never. He’s gone”

  “He moved out?” Steve asked, feeling disappointment rooting itself in the pit of his stomach.

  “Ran away more like it. He vamoosed a couple of weeks ago.” The man scoffed. “He owes me three months’ rent, too. I doubt I’ll ever see the money.”

  He gave Steve and Harry the once-over as if he were trying to figure them out. “Why did you want to talk to him?”

  “We want to talk to him about his blog. His last entry in particular of two murder scenes. Do you know anything ab
out them, Mr.…”

  “Sands.” The man sneered, taking the cigar out of his mouth. “Nope, Guy kept mostly to himself. The quiet, silent type, you know.”

  Steve handed his card to Mr. Sands. “If Guy does come around or gets in contact with you, would you have him call me, please?”

  The man frowned at first, then nodded. “Sure. I gotta get back to cooking.” He shut the door before Steve or Harry could thank him for his time.

  “What a charming man,” Harry remarked.

  “Yeah, he has a great personality, doesn’t he?”

  “Guy isn’t here, skipping out so he doesn’t have to pay the back rent he owes, which now leaves us back at square one, with no leads.” Harry shook his head discouragingly.

  Something niggled at the back of Steve’s mind. Things weren’t adding up. “Don’t you find it odd Guy skips out right after he posts those pictures and videos of the murder scenes?”

  “He didn’t skip out right after. Those posts were from a couple of months ago,” Harry corrected him.

  “Right. But I still find it odd.”

  “Odd? Why?”

  “Well, what if he didn’t skip out. What if he’s gone missing, just like in the cases he’d been investigating when he came upon those two murder scenes?” Steve suggested.

  Paleness spread over Harry’s face. His eyes bugged out. “Holy cow! If that’s the case, then we could be next!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Victor pondered how to approach him without it looking like he was stalking him. He’d been following Steve and Harry ever since they’d exited the police station.

  They’d driven to an unknown duplex on Patterson Lake Road. They spoke for a short time to a rude, overweight man who refused to step outside or to invite them in.

  They’d stood on the sidewalk for quite some time talking and waiting for another Uber driver they’d hailed via the phone app to arrive.

  They had obviously expected to stay longer there. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have let the previous driver leave so quickly.

  He wondered what they’d discussed with the impolite stranger. It apparently had to do with the investigation they were in town working on.

  But he couldn’t fathom what it could possibly have been. Whatever it was, Harry and Steve had seemed disappointed with the outcome if the lingering crestfallen expressions they still wore while they hung around in the lobby were any indication.

  When Steve pointed toward the bar at the hotel, Harry shook his head and gestured to the ceiling. Victor guessed Steve wanted to get a drink and had invited Harry to join him, which Harry had appeared to decline. He most probably wanted to head to his hotel room.

  As Steve meandered to the bar, Victor saw the perfect opportunity to swoop in.

  The seat at the bar beside the one Steve chose was empty. Victor’s hands were clammy, and his legs felt weak. He marveled at his reaction. He was a vampire. He shouldn’t be able to perspire or lose strength, except when his blood levels were low. And yet he did.

  Could it be love? Or was it fear? He had no idea what to say or how Steve would react at their second encounter. Would he be happy or annoyed?

  For a moment, his courage escaped him. He almost twirled around and intended to hide undercover. But where would it leave things? Steve would remain in town. His father would be returning soon. The risk of exposure rose with every minute that passed.

  Somehow Victor had to convince Steve to leave. Even if he’d have to cast another spell to do it, he would.

  Taking a deep breath and wiping his damp palms against his black denim pants, he marched to the bar.

  He perched beside Steve and asked, “So how are you feeling?” He swore his voice trembled even though he tried to stay calm.

  Steve jumped, clutching his chest. “Oh, you scared me.” He glanced at Victor, then drew his gaze to the counter in front of him for a second before staring at him again.

  A look of confusion swept over Steve’s eyes, then one of recollection.

  “You! We bumped into each other at the train station.”

  “Yes. Yes, we did.” Victor offered him a cheery grin. He could smell Steve’s irresistible human scent.

  He yearned to lean in to get a more intoxicating sniff. But he restrained himself. Instead, he motioned to the back of his head. “How’s your head?”

  “It’s all right. I still have a bump, but it’s getting better.”

  Trying to make his excuse as believable as possible he smiled. “Well, I was waiting to meet a friend when I spotted you here. I decided to come talk to you and see how you’re feeling.”

  Steve shifted his gaze before saying, “Umm, I’m okay.”

  “I really feel sorry for pushing you against that railing.”

  Steve waved his hand dismissively. “You didn’t push me on purpose. It’s more my fault than yours. I wasn’t looking where I was going, Mr.…”

  “Call me Vi—” Victor stopped himself before he told Steve his real name. Anything could trigger Steve’s memory. The veil of amnesia the spell had created was thin and easily penetrable. Just a small signal from their past could make all Steve’s memories rush back.

  “Vinny. I’m Vinny Slate.” He extended his hand in salutation.

  Steve accepted it, shaking it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Vinny. I’m Steve Cain.”

  The bartender shuffled toward them. The tall, wiry man was wiping dry a washed beer mug, when he asked, “Are you gentlemen ready to order?”

  “I’ll have a Budweiser,” Steve answered.

  “I’ll have the same,” Victor added.

  The bartender wasted no time twisting the caps off two ice-cold beers He set them in front of them, along with two mugs. “There you go.”

  Once he’d walked to the end of the counter, Victor asked, “So are you in town on business or pleasure?”

  “Business. I’m a journalist. I was here on a story, but both my leads didn’t pan out. I’ll be heading back to Lansing tomorrow.”

  Relief and sorrow battled for Victor’s attention. Steve would be leaving before his father returned. The farther away Steve was from Hell, the safer he’d be.

  But at the same time, Victor was deeply saddened. Steve would be leaving tomorrow and never coming back. It took all his willpower eight years ago to let him go. He’d been miserable and lonely ever since.

  Was he strong enough to go through with it once again?

  He struggled internally with his conscience and his heart.

  “Please don’t go. Stay with me, Steve,” hovered on his lips.

  He just had to open his mouth and say it, but he mustn’t. He took a huge swig to wipe the urge away, then uttered, “I’m sorry to hear that your leads didn’t work out.”

  Steve shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess that’s how the ball rolls. Now I have to come up with another great story to appease my editor. That’s going to be a challenge.” He took a sip, then enquired, “What about you, Vinny? Are you in Hell for business or pleasure?”

  Victor hadn’t expected this sort of question. Unlike everyone else who had a real job, Victor worked for his father, doing errands for him and being at his beck and call.

  It was getting hot in here, Victor noted as he squirmed, thinking of a plausible lie to tell Steve.

  “Oh ah. I work as an administrative assistant,” he said.

  It wasn’t a complete lie. It was almost accurate. He did assist in administering his father’s wishes.

  He decided to unbutton the collar of his cotton shirt when he felt a hot flash come on. His emotions and stress of lying to the man he loved were apparently invoking his rising body temperature.

  “Wait!” Steve gasped before moving closer to investigate the side of Victor’s neck. “That tattoo seems familiar.”

  No! It had never occurred to Victor that his tattoo was visible.

  He could see the cognitive wheels spinning in Steve’s mind. Hoping to deflect Steve’s thoughts, Victor said, “It’s nothing.” He s
tarted to button up his collar. “Would you like another beer, my treat?”

  Steve scowled, shaking his head. “Why are you trying to hide it? I’ve seen that tattoo of a snake before.” He widened his eyes. They reflected both fear and recollection in them, Victor noted.

  Steve sprung from his stool, almost tipping his beer bottle in the process. He pointed an accusing finger at Victor and blurted in an excited tone, “I know you!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “No. You’re mistaken.” Victor was grasping at straws.

  He tried to backpedal, hoping to confuse Steve enough that he’d lose his train of thought.

  “We never met before yesterday. You’re mistaking me for someone else.”

  “No, I’ve seen that tattoo before. I’ve seen your face before.” Steve teetered on his feet. Victor saw paleness wash over Steve’s complexion.

  Steve cupped his cheeks. “My head is spinning.”

  Victor helped him back onto the stool. “Sit. Rest. It’s the head injury. It’s muddled your thoughts.” Victor hailed the bartender. “Can we have a glass of water please?”

  “Sure. Here you go.” The bartender looked worried. “Is he going to be all right?”

  “Yeah, he just needs to rest.” Victor handed the glass to Steve.

  Steve drank, then left the glass half-empty on the counter. “I think I need to lie down.”

  He stood and almost dipped to the side. Victor grabbed him, pulling him close to his chest. He could hear Steve’s drumming heartbeat. Concerned, Victor said, “I’ll help you to your room.”

  Steve didn’t argue. He simply grasped Victor’s arm. “That would be great. My room is 747.”

  Victor supported his arm as they strode languidly to the elevator.

  What was wrong with Steve? Although Victor had wanted him distracted so he couldn’t recall the truth, he didn’t want the man he loved to fall ill.

  Could Steve have suffered a concussion? “Do you want to see a doctor?”

  Steve frowned, narrowing his eyes he fixed on Victor. “Why?”

  “Well, maybe your dizziness is due to the knock on your head.” The elevator doors opened with a beeping sound.