Venom & Vampires: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

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Venom & Vampires: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 130

by Casey Lane


  “Tick tock. She’s not going to last forever with that silver eating away at her.” Tina stroked my face with the point of her stake. “I should have put some on her face. It’d be a pleasure watching it eat away at her lovely features.”

  Chapter Ten

  Fang

  Late that afternoon, I’d been in my office going over Hattie’s report on the dead shifter when Menlo arrived. I was engrossed in reading about the black goo all over both the troll’s and shifter’s brain matter. The sun would slide down behind the mountains soon, but it’d be a while before Silverthorne would awaken with the moonrise.

  I glanced at the old office wall clock. I could feel that the moon wasn’t up yet, but I wanted to be wrong. I needed to see Silverthorne.

  “Tina asked me to give you this. Said it’s a love note. ’Course, I didn’t open it.” Menlo sniffled and shuffled. My deputy had taken news of Tina’s return joyfully. I envied him.

  Sighing, I took her sealed note from Menlo’s hands. I read it twice before asking him, “When did you get this?”

  “I saw her early afternoon, but she said it wasn’t urgent and to just give it to you before I signed off tonight. Everything OK?”

  I grabbed my hat off my pile of unfinished paperwork and headed out the door without another word.

  Now the three of us were in the cave. Tina was capable of anything; I should have seen it years ago. Maybe I had and I just didn’t want to admit it. I was betting Leon had seen a lot more of this then he ever let on.

  “Earth to Fangy,” Tina called. “I’m still waiting. What do you choose?”

  Something was bothering me despite the peril of this psychotic situation.

  “What did you buy in Albuquerque?” I asked.

  “What?” Tina pulled her head back.

  “You said you went to Albuquerque shopping. But you’ve told me many times how much shopping in Albuquerque sucks. And yet you’ve been there once a month recently. What did you buy?”

  Tina rolled her eyes. “You don’t know? Come on, you’re the sheriff. Do some detecting.”

  “She’s a drug mule,” Silverthorne said.

  Tina slapped her face.

  Silverthorne snarled, but the silver was taking its toll. “You brought REAP into Nowhere.”

  “Pretty clever, huh? Who would suspect the sheriff’s wife?”

  “But why?” Until this night I’d never though Tina’s malice would go beyond me.

  She shrugged. “Why not?”

  “And the dead troll and shifter?”

  “I don’t know anything about the troll. The shifter found out and threatened to tell you if I didn’t cut her in. In the end she was quite useful as a messenger.”

  REAP had come to Nowhere, and the casino was now the perfect place for distribution.

  One more thing bothered me. How did she know where to find Silverthorne’s crypt?

  “You knew what happened to your brother. That’s how you knew where to find Silverthorne.” It shocked me that she’d harbored this information for all these years. That was before we were even a couple.

  “Don’t call Ramon my brother. Leon is my brother. Ramon was a freak. Like this one.” She gestured to Silverthorne. “Father and Mother wouldn’t listen when I tried to tell them what he did to me. They’d rather believe in their fairy tale that everyone could live happily together.” Tina wiped a few tears on her sleeve.

  “He knew about you and Silverthorne. He told me. I didn’t want to believe him but I came anyway. He was right about you both. Then when she killed him and left Nowhere, I thought that everything would be fine. Why couldn’t you love me? That was all I wanted.”

  “Tina, I killed him, not Silverthorne,” I said.

  “I don’t care! It’s too late. If I kill her, you’ll kill me. You can spend whatever is left of your life suffering.”

  “Ruff-ruff-ruff!” The sound of a small dog’s barking distracted Tina as Mr. Figgles hurled himself through the cave entrance. He charged across the poorly lit cave with his teeth bared and bow-trimmed ears flying.

  Silverthorne threw herself against her restraints, letting out a scream as the silver cut into her. She used her momentum to head-butt Tina, knocking her over onto her side. The dog leapt, sailed through the air, and bumped the stake loose from Tina’s hands.

  I launched myself for it but I landed on the cave floor with the wind knocked out of me. The dog grabbed one of Tina’s braids, pinning her down.

  I had no breath to cry out with, but I feared the loosened stake would get knocked into Silverthorne.

  “Sheriff, stay down!”

  An arrow whizzed over my head.

  And found its mark through Tina’s neck. She gasped and gurgled as blood filled her throat before her blank eyes stared ahead, seeing nothing.

  Ben ran by me, panting hard and wearing a flashlight on his head. Its light swept the cave. He slung his bow over his shoulder, and a quiver of arrows hung from his back.

  Hattie writhed in agony. All her activity against the silver was burning her. I reached her and worked to snap the chains with my bare hands. It was largely ineffectual. She was burning up, and I had no way to stop it.

  “Here.” Ben was next to me, handing me bolt cutters. I cut her free and gathered her into my arms, but she was insensible. Burns deeply scored her skin.

  “Hattie,” I whispered, kissing her. But she didn’t respond. “Ben, she’s weak. You need to help her. Let her feed.”

  I lay back with Hattie in my arms. Ben rubbed his neck across her lips to arouse a rooting reflex. Nothing happened until the third time, when her fangs pierced his neck and she started sucking. Soon I heard her steady swallows.

  It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

  Chapter Eleven

  Silverthorne

  It was several nights before I was well enough to leave the cave, but Ben, Mr. Figgles, and Fang left that night, taking Tina’s body with them. As I began feeling better, it crossed my mind that after this drama I might be the first vampire to want her crypt feng shui-ed. Ben would be thrilled. He was forever trying to talk me into this doing this for our LA condo.

  I’d never been so glad to return to the motel for a hot shower as I was after my extended stay in the crypt. I made it my personal mission to use as much water as possible. Why not? The humans were doing so at a prodigious rate.

  My burns had healed, but I still felt some pain where the silver chains touched me. The mind is a mysterious thing. Like all good physicians, I self-diagnosed as opposed to seeking an objective opinion. Clearly I had post-traumatic stress disorder. It would resolve as soon as I got out of Nowhere.

  After my shower I yielded the bathroom to Ben and Mr. Figgles. The red dirt was proving difficult to remove from the white patches on Figgles’s coat. Ben was determined to wash it away, but I suspected only a trip to the groomer would take care of the problem. While I waited for Ben to discover that reality, it was rather entertaining watching the two of them do battle in the bathtub. Ben appeared more wet than the dog.

  “I’m going out for a while.” I added a pullover to my layers. My favorite running coat was toast after the Tina debacle.

  “Have fun,” Ben called over the running water in the tub.

  I shook my head. I wasn’t going out to “have fun.” What did that even mean? I was vampire, not a character on some wacky sitcom.

  I left our room, careful to make sure the door locked behind me. I pocketed the key and surveyed the outside. The sky was overcast. No moon tonight. Snow was coming; I could smell it. There were four vehicles in the parking lot tonight. Griz would be pleased at the increase.

  I turned my collar up against the cold and walked down the path between the units. I stopped two doors down and knocked.

  Fang opened the door. His room was piled with boxes. I could swear ninety-nine percent of them contained books. He’d moved out of the house he and Tina had shared. He’d never felt at home there. His only other possession
of interest in the cramped room was a one-eyed cat perched on top of the boxes.

  He hissed when Fang stood back for me to enter the room.

  “It’s still doing that,” I commented. Why would anyone want such a pet? The merits of Mr. Figgles were clear enough. I wasn’t sure what Fang saw in the feline, but he was loyal to the end in his relationships.

  “How was the funeral?” I already knew the answer, but it was polite to ask. I hadn’t gone but I could guess the outcome. It was a pack affair. I was glad Tina was dead, though I hated being indebted to Ben. I was being a bit ungracious about not getting to snap her neck myself. Ben had gloated because he’d taken up archery for a prospective acting gig that had never come through.

  “Come outside?” I disliked being in the cluttered room. It already smelled like the litter box needed to be emptied. How could Fang stand it?

  He shrugged into his coat and followed me outside. We stood scanning the sky for the moon out of habit, but it was still hidden.

  “Are you all healed?” Fang asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Liar.”

  “How can you possibly know that?” I snapped. God. How irritating. I liked my privacy.

  “Because I know your heart.” He reached for my hairpin, removed it, and ran his fingers through my hair. “Just as you know mine.”

  “Lucky you,” I murmured. His hands felt good. Little ribbons of pleasure rippled through me, starting from my scalp.

  “I am,” Fang insisted quietly.

  “Nothing good is coming from it. The body count is up to two. We have no future together.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “I’ll never be free of the Vampire Review Board, and neither will you. They’d just as soon kill you as look at you.”

  “Then we’ll have to keep a sharp eye out for them. Ben’s got potential.”

  “He’s a human!” I exclaimed. My voice was louder than I intended.

  Fang stopped arranging my hair. He raised a dark eyebrow. “I noticed. But he learns quick and he’s smart.”

  “You like Ben.” I was shocked.

  “Like might be a bit optimistic. Tolerate is probably a better choice. He’s devoted to you, and that has value to me.”

  I made a noncommittal sound. I sure hoped he didn’t expect some kind of declaration of love for his cat on my part. Because that wasn’t coming. Ever.

  “How was Leon?” I asked, searching for less treacherous ground.

  “I’m on administrative leave.”

  “Why? You didn’t do anything. And REAP needs to be stopped now, before it becomes an epidemic like in LA. I’ll talk to him again before I leave town.”

  “Hattie, don’t.” Fang’s hands steadied my shoulders. “He’s grieving. I should’ve know about Tina and REAP. The troll and shifter might still be alive if I’d stopped her.”

  “Tina was trying to hurt you. Don’t let her win. You can root out REAP.” I regretted my last sentence. Actually, I didn’t think he could. I’d seen the devastation to LA, and that was a city with resources. Nowhere was screwed. It would be like the AIDS epidemic among the humans in the last century: a massive loss of life and a hysteria about it. All kinds of speculation and very little fact. Besides Fang, who would step in?

  “Not Menlo.” I said. “He’s the acting sheriff?”

  Fang nodded.

  “Well, fuck. Might as well just make REAP legal and start charging sales tax.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Leave Nowhere. It’s aptly named. It’s not like you have a pack here. You can start again.”

  Fang frowned. “Living among humans isn’t for me. I might not have a pack here, but Nowhere is my home.”

  “Shifters are so sentimental.” I wrinkled my nose to indicate my disapproval.

  “That’s not all bad.”

  We’d stood facing each other, but now I turned my head to the not-quite-empty parking lot. Another unit door opened past Fang’s and mine.

  Dwarves, dressed in identical nylon navy-blue tracksuits regardless of their sex, tumbled out at a remarkable rate and began loading into their minivan. They swarmed around the vehicle, strapping bags onto its top by standing on one another’s shoulders and tossing them up. It was rather entertaining.

  “Stay here, Hattie. You and Ben, if that’s what you need. I know things between us are complicated, but I don’t want to be separated from you ever again.”

  The dwarves had so many bags. It was incredible considering their choice of attire. Ben would be fascinated, but I didn’t dare alert him. The few managing the car-top carrier appeared to load the bags quickly. They must have been lightly packed.

  “You know something’s going on at the casino as well as I do. There’s plenty here to keep you busy. You could work on stopping REAP on this end. Let the humans sort it out for themselves. We need you here.” He took my hand in his much larger one, lacing our fingers together. That felt very pleasant.

  With the last bag loaded, the dwarves piled in the van and roared out of the parking lot, sending bits of gravel flying behind them.

  “Must be late to their next show,” I mused.

  “Earth to Hattie—have you heard a word I said?” Fang raised my hand to his mouth, where he unfurled my fingers and kissed my palm.

  My knees felt curiously weak. Maybe the odor in Fang’s room had improved. And perhaps Tom could be shut in the bathroom for a bit.

  Fang led me to his door and opened it using the key attached to a clunky plastic tag with the unit number stamped on it.

  Once we were inside, he pushed me up against the door. I smiled. Old habits die hard. “Fang,” I mused as his lips found a tender place at the base of my throat. My fingers were busy unbuckling his belt. “What’s a troop of circus dwarves doing in Nowhere if they aren’t performing at the casino?”

  Fang’s lips stopped moving. He was silent for a full minute. I hadn’t stopped my exploration, so I could feel him struggling to change gears. I admit it, I enjoyed it. I’m a vampire, not a saint, remember?

  “Aw hell, Hattie.” Fang sighed into my neck, pushing my fingers away as he rebuttoned his pants. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  The End

  More Adventures with Silverthorne & Fang will continue in Forbidden Love Still Sucks.

  * * *

  http://www.jenniferhilt.com

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  About the Author

  Thanks for reading Silverthorne & Fang! I hope you enjoyed spending time in Nowhere, New Mexico. I write paranormal romance and urban fantasy because those are my favorite books to read. I’m forever dreaming up new stories about everyday people who happen to have tails, fangs or fins.

  My current obsessions include wondering about life in Alaska, New Mexico and Victorian England but not all at the same time. I like ass kicking adventure and swoon worthy romance. Add in some trash talking characters with more than a touch of the absurd and I’m in heaven. I live in Seattle with my human and canine family. Please see what I’m up to at www. Jenniferhilt.com.

  Acula

  Robert Armstrong & Tom Shutt

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © by Robert Armstrong & Tom Shutt, 2016

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

  Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission.

  Tom Shutt, editor and coauthor for this book passed away unexpectedly only day
s before its completion. My time working with Tom revealed a young man far beyond his years in both talent and wisdom, a rising young star in the author community that was respected for his work ethic and kindness. He will be missed dearly by so many.

  * * *

  A portion of the proceeds for this work will be reserved for assisting new authors through a foundation created by his family.

  If you also like to donate to Tom’s foundation, follow the link below:

  https://donate.noisebridge.net/projects/thomas-j-shutt-memorial-foundation

  Chapter One

  Prisoner

  My name is Acula. I was born in Sparta, Greece, in the year 494 BCE. My father, Preturias, moved our family away from Sparta a few years later. We’d lived in a farming community since I could remember. Father was a Spartan warrior first, but he was also a bronze craftsman, specializing in swords. Today, we had traveled to sell his wares.

  “Remember what I told you before we left?” Father asked, stopping mid-stride before we entered the market. His broad shoulders were facing in profile to me, aimed toward the market, with only his head tilted in my direction. I could hear mobs of people talking and laughing near us.

  “To mind my eyes,” I replied.

  He turned his body towards me. “Filth, deception, and greed await the unwary beyond this wall. Remember who you are,” he said.

  “…Of course, Father,” I replied. Even though I was fourteen, practically a man grown, he was still so protective of me.

  He glanced towards the market, then back down at me. “Come.” He nodded his head toward the entrance, patting me on the shoulder. I had never ventured this far beyond our village. This would be the first time I had been around such diversity in the Greek culture.

 

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