Bad Impression : A Sadie Salt Novel (Sadie Salt Series Book 2)

by Ware Wilkins

  Before I can ask what he knows, though, there’s a knock at the door.

  “That was fast,” Oliver quips, standing, but the furrow in his brow tells a different story.

  There’s this pattern I’m beginning to recognize in my life. Long stretches of boredom and self-doubt, followed by a few bad decisions and a rapid retribution in the form of life-threatening danger. Probably I should stop doing dumb things, but right now that’s neither here nor there.

  What’s here is a group of vampires, standing just outside Uncle Oliver’s front door, looking for me. So I’m still stuck in the life-threatening danger part of this cycle, and I make a silent promise that if I can just survive this night, I’ll be super content with long stretches of boredom and will make no bad decisions.

  “Sadie Salt, the queen has asked to see you,” one says. He doesn’t look familiar, but I’m not super in-the-know with the local nest. I’ve only seen a few as patients and I met the queen with Benji. That had been an adventure, complete with discovering that the queen was queen Jeremy, a transvestite vampire and former lover of Benji’s with a candle that still burned pretty hot for him. Good times, let me tell you.

  “Now is not a good time,” I reply, standing behind my uncle. Of the two of us, I might actually be more powerful. But with the Ferryman revelation, I’m not inclined to launch back into using magic.

  The vampires smile that evil smile that vampires are so darned good at. It’s the smile that says you are a mouse and I am a cat and oh, won’t this be fun. “It isn’t truly a request, so much as a demand.”

  “Well,” I say slowly. “He will have to wait until Benji is available to escort me.”

  “His car is here,” one offers, stepping to the side to reveal the dark, sporty car still sitting in my uncle’s driveway. Behind it is another vehicle, a red SUV with pink led lighting around the vanity plate at the front that says “QUEEN.”

  “He’s out on business,” Oliver answers, arms folded in front of his chest. The vampires just grunt.

  “The queen didn’t request both of you. Just you, Sadie Salt. So let’s get a move on. Nighttime is burning.”

  “Let me be clear. There is no way I’m coming with you without Benji. Your kind is neither predictable, nor particularly nice to humans.”

  They give each other side eyes. I’m testing their patience. Well, tough. I’m tired and there’s a lot going on and this just feels like one thing too much.

  “We give you our word, on pain of death, that the queen has no intentions of harming you this evening.”

  I laugh. “Uh huh. What about the rest of you? That’s one of those loopholes I think you vamps love so much, right? He won’t hurt me, but he can let one of you drain me and not break his promise.”

  “No vampire will harm you this night.” The leader of the group is getting perturbed. I’m sure they’re used to people doing what they want. Oliver’s got a ton of protections on his home, including one that prevents us from being hypnotized by vampires. They’re having to rely on their persuasion skills, which are pretty darned rusty, if you ask me.

  “Look,” another one says. He’s dressed in black like the others, in that too-cliche way, but he’s got on Chuck Taylors. “The queen has need of your expertise, so bring the tools of your trade, okay?”

  My eyebrows pinch together until it pings. “He’s got a tooth problem?”

  They look nervous. “We tend to not like admitting shortcomings out loud.”

  My laugh is high, my nerves twisting the sound. “Oh, right. Of course. I’m sorry. You’re just all gothed up and menacing. Business is different. Surely you could have hinted at that instead of trying your weird, mysterious doom-and-gloom thing?”

  They don’t reply, but it’s fine. “Tonight isn’t a good night. I’m sorry.”

  “We will pay handsomely. And…” They exchange more glances. Chuck Taylors speaks up. “We can offer the protection of the nest. Grimloch’s not as safe for our kind these days.”

  “You’re telling me,” I mutter, about to admit that a small army of hunters took out my neighbor just a few hours ago. But that would require explaining that she was a bone witch, and that would require an explanation that would probably negate all these promises and cost me my life.

  I look over my shoulder at Ingrid. She’s looking pale, but it’s been a rough evening with little food or rest and an unhealthy dose of terror. I said I’d wanted the magic to protect her. It’s true that I do want to protect her, but maybe my magic’s not the way. “The protection of the nest will need to extend to Ingrid Dalton.” I point to her. “She and her baby are included with me, or no deal and the queen can either come here herself or wait for Benji.”

  They don’t even hesitate. “Fine, the girl and her spawn are included. But let’s go.”

  “I don’t have my things here. They’re at my apartment.” Which is surrounded by the corpses of hunters and poor Ms. Nickles.

  Chuck Taylors has an answer for everything. “I’ll get your things and meet you at the nest. Okay?”

  “Not necessary,” Oliver says. “One moment, please.”

  He dashes off to the kitchen, leaving Ingrid, the group of stiff vampires, and myself to all shuffle and avoid eye contact. Uncle Oliver returns quickly with a bunch of silverware. “Sadie, I’m going to imbue these with magic. Touch each one and picture the dental tools you need after I tell you to.”

  “Uh… okay?”

  He grabs some herbs from one of his robe’s many pockets and the bitter tang of them wafts through the air. Shutting his eyes, he hums his spell and touches each piece individually. “Do it,” he orders.

  My mind pictures a mirror and I touch a spoon. It moves, molten and malleable, and turns into a mouth mirror. It’s pretty freaking cool. I move through the silverware, turning each into probes, excavators, forceps, burs, and descalers. With one last thought, I add an osteotome, just in case I need to cut through tooth.

  “That’s going to have to be enough,” I say, looking at the tools.

  Ingrid hands me a shopping bag and I toss them into it. Oliver is pretty pleased with himself, smiling smugly. As an afterthought, I excuse myself and run to my old room. The bag is still on the bed. I don’t want to take the teeth. Not after talking to Oliver. But I also am going into a vampire nest with just their word that I have their protection. But we didn’t exactly hammer out details, now did we?

  Sighing, I rifle through the bag and try to find two obviously paranormal teeth. There’s a vamp fang and what looks like a kelpie tooth, large and equine. I want the paranormal teeth for two reasons. One, I can only hope and assume that they lived longer, exciting lives and my stealing a tiny bit of their story won’t hinder their ability to get to the afterlife. Heck, they might not even be dead yet, though knowing Ms. Nickles the little bit that I did, I doubt it.

  But I can also feel the power in them. I’m still banking a bit of power already. With these two, I’ll have enough juice to do some serious damage if it comes to it. It won’t come to it. It can’t. I’m bringing them just in case, but I’m going to try my absolute hardest to make sure just in case this is a matter of life and death.

  Tucking them into my jacket pocket, I collect Respect and brace myself for this. Whatever Queen Jeremy needs, I’ll help with, because having a queen of a nest owe me is huge.

  I have a feeling I’ll need that favor and the protection sooner rather than later.

  The nest isn’t an actual nest. It’s a giant mansion, tucked into a mountain. It’s decadent, looming behind tall pines, with a carefully manicured night garden. Because it’s winter there are no lovely white blooms to greet me, but the carefully sculpted greens that persist even in the cold are elegant and Parisian.

  This time, with no Benji, I am escorted more quickly through the looming wooden front doors. The decor and vampires lounging about look straight out of an Anne Rice novel and it’s tough to decide if the attempt is tongue-in-cheek or if the vampires are kind of ridicul
ous.

  Either way, I keep my eyes on the heels of my escorts, avoiding seeing the plethora of humans they have living with them as well. Walking meals, each hoping they’ll be turned. It made me sick the first time I saw it. Now, though, I’ve let Benji drink from me a couple of times. It’s not so bad, though I have no desire to be a vampire thrall. It’ll be a long time before he feeds from me again… if ever. I imagine, or at least I hope, that the humans here live in relative comfort here in exchange for their blood.

  Who am I to judge anymore? I’ve got my own problems.

  We head up the back, secret stairs, leaving the opulence of the main home behind. As we reach the top, I hear a low, whining moan from the Queen’s room. The door is held for me, and I pass into the bohemian chamber.

  The room is just as stunning as it was the last time I was here. Rich reds and royal purples. Gold threads and silver paints. The designs are eclectic, like a bazaar, and there’s a mix of cheap American knock offs and what might be genuine, rich tapestries.

  “Hello, queen.” I dip my head, unsure of the protocol, but certain that there is one. Last time I had Benji to do the talking.

  “It’s about time you got here,” the queen’s rough voice cracks. He rises from his plush bed, pillows tumbling haphazardly to the carpeted floor.

  The queen is tall and built like a tank, his muscles straining at the silk of his ruby red robe. His chest is so broad that the robe can’t close entirely, showcasing a sculpted chest and rippling abs. If we’re going by torso alone, then I can see how Benji was down to clown with the queen.

  His face is covered in makeup, though some of the mascara is smeared and his rouge is too bold against the stark pallor of his face. His mouth is a twist of pain.

  “Sadie, I have a tooth I need looked at.”

  “Um, okay. Would you rather lie on your bed or on the floor?”

  My suggestions are met with open-mouthed horror. “Neither. Ew. I have no desire for a human or a female in my bed, and a queen doesn’t lie on the floor.” He claps his hands and some vampires shuffle in. They must also have a psychic connection, because they nod and not even a minute later they’re bringing a chaise lounge from downstairs into the room. It’s cream fabric, mahogany legs, and classic detailing look out of place in the bright room, but it’ll do the job.

  Queen Jeremy throws himself across it like he’s freaking Scarlett O’Hara. “You’re without your bodyguard tonight, little lady,” he teases, but his heart isn’t into it. The tight quality of his voice removes any lightness he’s attempting to convey.

  “He’s fighting some hunters that are attacking the pack,” I say as I kneel beside the chaise and begin to unpack my tools, arranging them before me in the order I like most.

  “You sound worried.”

  “I am. Benji or my friend Abe could be hurt… or worse. It’s hard to concentrate when I don’t know how they’re doing.”

  He gives a thin chuckle. “You don’t need to worry if Benji’s there. He’s old enough to take out a hundred hunters.”

  He just may be doing that now. “Last year a single hunter got the jump on him.” I probably shouldn’t be sharing this with the queen, but everyone keeps talking about Benji like he’s this ancient warrior who can’t be touched. They didn’t see him sizzling in the sun on my bedroom floor, too weakened to move. I do want to be reassured, but I don’t want to be coddled.

  “Ah, well. Maybe he’s getting too soft with you around.”

  “Me? How am I making him soft?”

  “It’s pathetic to see him pursuing a pathetic human with a vagina--” he says “vagina” like it’s a curse word, “when he should be with his own kind. No offense.”

  Grabbing a particularly large scraper, I shake my head. “Just because you throw ‘no offense’ onto the end of a sentence doesn’t negate the offensiveness. For someone who needs my help, you’re calling me an awful lot of names.”

  He sighs, his hand shooing away my retort. “I don’t have to like you or even respect you to need your help.”

  Uh, okay. Sure. “Just open wide. The less you talk, the better.”

  His eyes flash a warning to me, but he does open.

  Okay, let’s talk about this mouth. First thing I notice is that his fangs are longer than the average vampire’s. They are also serrated, though it looks as though that was cosmetic. It makes me angry and nauseous, though, because Benji’s bite hurt a bit, but it wasn’t awful. Teeth like the queen’s are designed to hurt.

  I use my hand mirror and a probe, checking his gums. There’s a few centuries worth of plaque along the crescents of his gums. Blood can contain sugar, which can form into plaque whether you’re undead or not. The difference is, no bacteria live in a vampire’s mouth, so it doesn’t cause halitosis and it doesn’t eat away at the hardened enamel, but it does build up, forming a barrier. He’ll need a full descalement to get them clean. We’re talking a minimum of three hours of hard scraping, which will suck for both of us.

  That’s not why he summoned me, though. His upper right second bicuspid has a significant chip. I can see exposed nerve. He must be in a terrible amount of pain. It’s healing, but I know each time he feeds or accidentally grinds his teeth or anything brushes against it, the exposed nerve is paying him back tenfold. “Ouch,” I mumble and withdraw my tools.

  If he were human, I’d cap his tooth. But they aren’t made to last more than one lifetime, and not really that. “What happened?”

  “It got a little rough in the bedroom,” he sasses back. “Can you fix it?”

  “You’ve got a serious break on your bicuspid. I can do a root canal and cap it, but it’s going to be a temporary fix. Eventually down the road the cap will fall off and it will need to be done again. Also, you’d need to stop engaging in your rough bedroom activities. The problem is, if you weren’t undead and immortal, the nerve would eventually die and the pain would end. But your body regenerates and heals constantly. It doesn’t, however, grow new bone.”

  “You’re offering me a bandaid? What good are you?”

  “I could just pull the tooth. Because it’s on the side, it won’t be super visible. Your flesh will knit back together over the remainder of the nerve, sealing it off from pain. You’ll be without a tooth, but you’ll also be without pain for your long, long, long life.”

  “A temporary fix or horribly disfigure me. You’re a real pro at this, Miss Salt.”

  “I don’t have to help you at all, of course,” I reply, tired and still thinking about Benji and Abe and wondering if the fighting is over yet and whether they’re okay or not.

  “Then anything we promised you would be off the table,” Queen Jeremy fights back. “Including your safety at this moment.”

  “Well then, pick, Princess, because I don’t have all night.”

  When I first came here, I wouldn’t have dared speak to the queen like this. The vampires are a race that truly believe they’re better than everyone else. That they deserve respect and fear and if they don’t have either from you, they’ll make sure you learn the lesson in the hardest, most painful way possible. Even Benji had been cautious, taking care to keep me as much in the shadows as he could.

  “You insolent bitch,” the queen snarls, giant fangs bared once again, with menace this time. “I can forget that he stuck his glorious self into you the once. Hell, I can forgive it for as long as you’re alive, because while I find it disgusting and pathetic, I’ve waited this long for him to come back, I can wait a lot longer. You’re nothing to us. A blip on the map. But just because he cares for you doesn’t mean you can say what you want. Apologize now or I will gut you. You may know teeth, but I know how to flay a person a hundred different ways.”

  The magic inside of me roars to life, the teeth practically burning a hole in my pocket. I want to scream at him “I’m a bone witch, asshole. Keep making your threats and we’ll see who is still standing.” But that is definitely the addiction speaking. With Oliver’s gentle admonition, I ca
n see it again, how I let it control me. Admitting I’m a bone witch would be signing a warrant for my death. “I’m sorry. I’m letting my stress affect my judgment. How would you like me to treat your tooth?”

  He gives a heavy sigh combined with an eyeroll. “Pull it, but you can’t keep it. That’s non-negotiable.”

  Normally I’d draw a line in the sand. If I was in my home office and I hadn’t just taken three months off from my practice. But in reality, I’ve probably just dodged a major bullet after insulting the Queen, and I’m still so wired with anxiety that I just want to be back at Oliver’s, waiting on Benji and Abe. “Deal. I’m going to need some help from a vampire you trust.”

  “I trust all my vampires,” Queen Jeremy says wryly. “One doesn’t keep trash in their nest, Sadie.”

  “Fine. I need a strong one.”

  He closes his eyes and in a moment a slender, female vampire walks in. “It’s an honor to serve you, my queen--”

  “Yeah, whatever.” The queen nods to me. “Do whatever she tells you to.”

  The lady vamp gives me a spiteful look, and geez, I get it, humans are crummy and beneath you, but for the love of toast, I’m just trying to do my job here. I’m not trying to hand out orders. “I’ll need you to hold the queen down, please.”

  Her eyes widen and the queen hisses. “That’s what you needed a vampire for? I can take the pain of losing a tooth.”

  “I’m sure you can, but if she holds you steady it makes it quicker for me.”

  “Fine,” Queen Jeremy hisses, clearly put out despite the fact that he asked me here for help.

  The woman’s slender, pale fingers splay on his shoulders. If I didn’t know vampires, I’d question this choice, but when it comes to their race, age makes more difference in strength than size.

  His mouth falls open and I grab my forceps. When I pulled Nash’s molar, I’d needed a magically imbued chair and a hell of a lot of work to pop that sucker out. It’s something about were bones that makes extraction so freaking tough. But vampires don’t have the same bone density that werewolves do. They make up for that minor fragility with strength and speed and most importantly, venom. Their venom is a numbing agent. It’s why Benji’s bites didn’t hurt as badly.