by Kayleigh Sky
“You aren’t sad about it. I would be.”
Jessa took a swallow of his tea before answering. “I spent years wishing I could get out of bed. Years wishing Mal and Rune didn’t have to take care of me. Wishing I didn’t feel sick. Wishing my romances were real, that I wasn’t a drainer, that my mom was alive.” A smile crept onto his face. “Wishing I had adventures.”
Knowing it was a lousy idea to get too close to him, Otto slung an arm over Jessa’s shoulders and steered him to the row of booths.
“What kind of adventures?
“Like this. On the hunt for a killer. Seeing new places. Looking for clues and putting the puzzle together piece by piece.”
Otto laughed. Strange how much Jessa made him laugh. His voice sounded rusty to him though, and he took a swallow of his tea. They paused at a booth where a vampire sat on a stool painting a plate with an intricate design. It looked like a scene from one of the cities. The brush had a tiny point and little of the original white surface showed on the plate now.
“Is having to wear the drainer sign whether you want it or not the reason you don’t tattoo your teeth?” he asked.
Jessa blinked as though startled, then shook his head. “They’re too thin. My bones are thinner too. Not brittle, but I won’t ever be as strong as a full Ellowyn. My heartbeat is a little faster, my temperature a little warmer. Ellowyn aren’t cold though. We have real blood. We’re all AB negative, one of your blood types. We can get any human illness but we usually don’t. Ellowyn and humans can reproduce.” He grinned. “Luckily for me.”
And me.
Much as he didn’t want to, Otto liked the little vamp, and the realization sent a zip of panic through him. He liked his solitary life too. No bodies of those he failed to save joining the collection he’d already let down. Maisie, dead at a vampire’s hand, and his father, drained of the will to resist as though they’d drunk his blood to the last drop.
His mouth went suddenly dry. He needed a drink. His gaze scanned the booths as he followed Jessa’s pointing finger. “Let’s look here.”
A banner at a blood red booth read Olnett’s Collectibles. Sitting on a folding chair inside was a human woman knitting a white and yellow blanket. She smiled vaguely when they came up and said, “Let me know if you see anything you like.”
Bracelets lay on tables, necklaces hung on strings from the ceiling, and earrings dangled from jewelry trees interspersed among the bracelets. All were made of glass of different colors fused into different shapes. Jessa was lost in the designs.
“Did you make all these?” Otto asked.
“Sure did.”
Would a human be involved in Acalliona’s murder? Not the actual killing, of course. Not that way. He looked at the literature on the front table. Her name was Mary Olnett, a mother and grandmother and owner of pug dogs. For fuck’s sake, that was so normal the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Long gone were the days of suburban hobbyists making a little cash on the side with their beads and wire art. Hardly collectibles, though Jessa looked smitten.
Otto tapped his elbow. “Come on. Let’s keep looking.”
He dug his fingers into his palm when they passed the booth for Oak Valley Ale & Cider.
“The Keepers of the Treasure,” said Otto. “Any idea where that comes from?”
“No. Jewels. Jewelry. The gems and metals they use maybe?”
“They’re one of the sponsors. It’s a merchant guild.”
“For jewelers?”
“Masons and guilds have pretty much died off up here,” Otto commented.
“I don’t know much of what it was like below. I could ask.”
“Maybe.” He smiled. “Let me think of the right questions.”
“Well…” Jessa bumped him as they turned away from the booths, walking toward Otto’s car. “Why would a bunch of people get together to kill a jeweler? That makes it a conspiracy. Why not one person for a personal reason?”
“Then why in Comity? Whoever was on the surveillance tape—Mateo, I’m still thinking—ran away from the parking lot. And if it was Mateo, he didn’t kill Acalliona, and if it wasn’t random, whoever did it knew where Acalliona was going to be. I’m not sure Isaac doesn’t know anything about this. Sorry, but they were friends.”
“Says who?”
“Wen.”
Jessa frowned slightly, slowing as they reached Otto’s car. “That’s not true though.”
“What? That they’re friends?”
“Isaac isn’t as tough as he acts. Mateo is. They aren’t close, but I guess Wen might think they are.”
“Is Wen good to them?”
“Not in a personal way. I don’t think Wen is comfortable around humans.” He smiled at Otto’s stare and shrugged one shoulder. “I know. Anyway, Wen isn’t cruel either. Nobody wants for anything in Comity House. Most donor centers don’t provide housing, but Wen says the blood is stronger if they don’t have to struggle so much. Vampires have always had human feeders. They treat them like pets. Sometimes they fall in love.”
Otto unlocked Jessa’s door. “Like your mother and father.”
“Oh no.” Jessa laughed. “That was true love. Qudim went insane when my mother was killed.”
“Dinallah said she died in the Upheaval.”
Jessa’s face fell dark now. “Yes. Qudim stayed in Celestine after the first quake and sent us away. We got out, but Rune went back. Then there was another earthquake, and a building fell on my mom. Mal said she was the only gentle thing in Qudim’s life. After that, all he wanted was to eradicate humans from the earth. I loved him though. He took me places. Mal says I look like my mom.”
Otto gazed over the roof of the car. “I’m sorry, Jessa.”
But Jessa shook his head. Otto was lost in the contrast of Jessa’s stubble against his light skin and outlined eyes. The sun, winking through the clouds, brought out the gold in his hair. “I have people who love me. I’m not like Isaac. I don’t know where Mateo is, and I don’t think Isaac does either.”
“I’m afraid,” said Otto, “that if Mateo is still alive, he’s in danger. We need to find him.”
If there was still time.
27
Pumping Isaac
Two days later, Jessa returned with Otto to Comity House.
“Where are we taking him?” he asked.
“Denny’s,” said Otto.
Jessa scowled, though a hint of doubt had crept into Otto’s voice as though even he knew his obsession with Denny’s was a bit odd.
“You want to drive all the way back across town to go to Denny’s?”
“Well, where else?” Otto asked.
“Pizza?”
It turned out they went to Scott’s Spot, Isaac’s favorite burger place. Isaac insisted he didn’t know anything about Mateo—they were hardly more than coworkers—all the while shredding his napkin into tiny squares. When their food arrived, they ate without speaking. Outside, clouds took over the sky, and rain pattered the roof and street. When he finished his burger, Isaac murmured, “Sorry you bought me lunch for no reason.”
Otto shrugged. “I don’t mind. You’re Jess’s friend.”
Isaac gave Otto a look similar to Jessa’s, which showed surprise that Otto cared who Jessa’s friends might be. It warmed Jessa’s belly, and a tiny smirk lifted the corner of Isaac’s mouth.
“I just can’t figure out why nobody knows where this kid came from,” Otto added. “It’s one of the first questions on a job application. Where do you live?”
“I didn’t live anywhere,” Isaac said, running a finger through the condensation on his glass of Coke.
“Ever?”
Isaac lifted a brow, fixing his stare on Otto for a long time before looking at Jessa, then back at Otto. “I don’t know where Mateo was before here, but I think he had family in Willits. At least once. A grandma, I think. Might not even be alive anymore.”
A faint annoyance entered Otto’s eyes, and Isaac dropped his gaze back to hi
s glass.
“Nobody mentioned that before,” Otto said.
“I just thought of it.”
“Was the grandma his mom’s or dad’s mother?”
Isaac frowned. “His dad’s, I think.”
“So the last name would be Lopez?”
“Yeah. I guess so. They live near a school I remember him saying. But that’s all I remember. I forgot about it until now.”
The annoyance remained on Otto’s face. “I’m not about to make any trouble for you.”
“I know,” Isaac said.
Jessa leaned closer to Otto, watching the way his pupils flared. “This is a break in the case, right?”
Otto guffawed, “Not quite,” while Isaac snickered.
“Just remember, you didn’t get it from me,” Isaac said.
“Nope. Mum’s the word.”
They waited until the rain let up and headed back to Comity House. After dropping off Isaac, Otto drove Jessa home. By the time they reached the castle, the clouds had blown away, and sunlight fell bright on the mountainside.
“Want to see the garden?” Jessa asked.
Otto parked the car in the driveway. He didn’t quite meet Jessa’s eyes but said, “Sure.”
Nobody emerged to greet them, but the weight of curious gazes followed. Bettina and Fritt probably. Maybe Uriah. A surge of love for his family swept through Jessa’s body in a warm wave. They had always been there to keep him safe. He waited for Otto to join him, his gaze filled with Otto’s rolling shoulders. The solid shape of his thighs in his jeans. His ever-present glower. Jessa knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t Wen. In the same way his family watched out for him, he needed to watch out for his family. He had to set them free someday. He had to marry Wen. Mal and Rune had put their lives on hold for too long. But first…
Until the investigation ended…
Jessa wanted Otto’s hands on him. His lips. The heat of his burning gaze. He licked his lips, looking up when Otto reached him. “This way,” he murmured.
Otto followed, crushing small stones underfoot. Jessa headed for a set of steps to a passageway that led under the castle and emerged by the side of the back veranda. Small sconces on the plastered walls lit the narrow space. The door to Rune’s studio was closed, but a light gleamed along the threshold.
“Look at this,” Jessa whispered, gesturing into a room midway down the hall.
The “dungeon” was the one place that reminded Jessa of an actual castle. The rest of it had a dollhouse quality to it, as though made to look like a castle, but the room Jessa gestured to didn’t even have electricity. A lantern sat on a ledge inside the door and when he switched it on, shadows flew across the room to hunker in the corners. The walls were stone, the floor earthen. In the center was a rough-hewn hole in the ground. It was round enough for a dozen people to stand in comfortably but sank down thirty to forty feet.
“What the hell is that?” asked Otto, edging to the dark lip.
“The pit.”
Otto twisted his head, gazing back at Jessa in the doorway. “Yes. A pit. Why is it here?”
“It’s the dungeon where Qudim kept people.”
“Excuse me?”
“Not humans. Ellowyn who defied him. As punishment. Mal and Rune used to threaten me with it if I disobeyed them.”
“Did they put you in there?”
Jessa warmed all over in a confusing kind of way. Why did Otto’s response please him? It wasn’t horror on Otto’s face. It was rage. Rage at Mal and Rune’s supposed abuse infusing his face with a deepening red. Maybe Jessa’s brother and sister were a bit ferocious looking, but Jessa was as safe as a baby in its cradle here.
“Of course not. I’m afraid of underground places.”
Otto slowly deflated but still looked annoyed.
Jessa led him up another set of stairs near Rune’s studio to the first floor and down a short hall that led outside. A few stray clouds, gray tinged and pearlescent, raced by to catch up with the others, hiding the sun as they passed. Flames leaped in the fire pits and warm air gusted against them as they crossed the veranda.
“Is your mother why you’re so into flowers.”
“I don’t know. Nobody else in the family was, though Bettina loves her herbs. I like beautiful things. Don’t you?”
“I guess that depends on the beautiful things,” Otto said.
Jessa swallowed. What did that mean for him? He wasn’t beautiful. Did he have a chance with Otto?
The gardens spread across the estate—rose, herb, water, and woodland. Jessa’s favorite garden was in the middle of a maze of boxwoods. “Do all this yourself?” Otto asked.
“Just the herb garden and the one in the maze.”
“In the maze, huh?” Otto grinned. “Is it like a prize you win if you can find your way out?”
“Not exactly. It’s smack in the middle. C’mon.”
The maze was one of the original features of the garden, and Jessa had loved to play here with Qudim when he was small. After a few twists and turns the boxwoods opened onto a large square of gravel and stone benches surrounded by trees and flowering bushes. “This is my tiny garden.”
Otto frowned, looking bewildered. “I like it. It’s pretty, but I don’t get the name.”
“All the flowers are tiny.”
Woodland stars grew in clusters, wild thyme among the stones. Purple wood sorrel, pansies, violas, and forget-me-nots hugged the rim of a pond.
As he gazed around, Otto’s expression went from perplexed to curious. His chest swelled, and Jessa breathed the sweet-scented air with him.
“This really matters to you?” Otto asked.
“Yes.”
“Half the city is in ruins.”
“Flowers grow there too. I have pictures.”
Otto laughed. “You are a strange vampire, Jess.”
Well, he was half human, so that made sense, but living in the upper world had made him more human. He wondered sometimes what he’d be like if Celestine had never fallen, and he’d never thought of himself as a drainer. Would his humanity have died in the dark?
“One more place,” he said and turned away.
On the other side of the maze, a lawn sloped down the hillside. In the curve of the little valley behind the garage sat his greenhouse in the sunshine. When he opened the door, warm air gusted out.
He shivered and stepped inside. Otto followed him, his eyes narrowing. Jessa’s stomach somersaulted at the thought of Otto rejecting him, and he turned away. Cold spread inside, burning like fire from his wrist. Bewildered, he looked down at the fingers wrapped around him and slowly raised his eyes to Otto’s again. The heat licked higher and higher on his body until it spread all the way through him.
“This is my castle,” he said.
28
Resisting Him
Fuck, he was an idiot. Otto had no business being here. Investigating the murder was his only job, that’s all the King had asked for, and all he needed to concentrate on for Maisie’s sake. But his head was stuck on her floral print dresses and her filigree flower earrings and tiny blossoms falling like sun on the ground.
Falling like you.
But no. No falling. Not for this silly kid destined to marry another vampire. Besides, Otto’s dad was probably flipping over in his grave right now. Not to mention, Otto had never fucked a vampire before. Would Jessa be cooler? Would he wrap Otto’s dick as hot as he liked?
Well, he wasn’t going to find out because he wasn’t going to go that far. As soon as he found the killer that was it. He’d go back to his life the way he liked it.
Plain house. Plain furniture. Plain life.
The occasional hook up.
Hot and fast.
The flush on Jessa’s neck drew his attention to the tattoo. His pulse fluttered like a butterfly was trying to escape from inside him.
A drainer. A drainer for God’s sake. But the word had no force. Otto drank in the pink of Jessa’s parted lips, the pattern of his freckles,
the heat of the arm trembling in his grip. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and Otto inexplicably wanted to scrape his tongue across the vampire’s ginger stubble. Sex wasn’t a good idea. It was better to not know the guy he was with. And besides…
“Jess.”
The vamp’s pupils widened, eyes tightening at the corners in a slight wince. “What?”
“I can’t do this.”
Jessa pulled away, swiped his palms down his hips, and turned to the table beside him. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
He pulled over a small glass jar and looked inside.
“What is that?” Otto asked.
“Seeds.”
“It’s not you.”
Otto wished to God it was. Wished he wasn’t on fire inside and his idiot body didn’t draw him closer and closer to an otherworldly scent that clung to Jessa with the stickiness of honey. He lifted his fingers, and the fragrance wafted from his skin where he had touched Jessa. Mine.
No. Vampire. A drainer, hiding his fangs behind his human teeth. He was the enemy, a distraction from the sole purpose of Otto’s life. A life so lonely only whiskey blunted the edges of his grating existence. “It isn’t you,” he said again.
“I’m a drainer.”
“That isn’t it.”
“Then what? Wen?”
Otto grabbed at that with a mix of relief and shame, because he didn’t really care about Jessa’s engagement, but it was there, the perfect excuse. “Jess, I—”
“I like it when you call me that.”
Jessa stepped close again, the space he invaded vibrating at the intrusion like he’d set off a tripwire.
Run.
“Your name?”
“I’m twenty-three years old. I’m not my family’s blossom. I like romances and makeup and jewelry and pretty things. But I’m not weak. I’m not—”
“No—”
“A drain.”
“I know you aren’t.” Otto found himself stepping back, out of the way of Jessa’s potent presence. “But you’re not available either.”
“Yes, I am.”
