Vulture’s Kiss

by E. M. Whittaker

  Wait. Weapon?

  No.

  She punched people.

  Fist fighters didn’t need weapons.

  Hector scoffed, then opened the door. “We’re way past round three with Simon. Hurry up before O’Malley closes shop for the evening.”

  “Yes, hurry.” Evelyn clenched her teeth. “Maybe they’ll sell brass knuckles and another nail file. I can’t use mine now.”

  “Evie, no.” Louis returned, opening the other door for her. “Get a weapon suitable for a lady. The nail file reminds me of a catty prostitute. If we’re dating, then you need something suitable, such as a concealed weapon.”

  She huffed. Fists were a concealed weapon.

  No one expected women to pack a punch.

  They made their way toward an abandoned brick building and bypassed the other graffitied ones. An aged sign swung with the warm, brisk wind. It needed a new sign. Only three letters remained. Evelyn stopped guessing what the owner named the shop after Louis distracted her.

  Just as well. The place creeped her out.

  “I’m sorry.” He clasped her hand while they walked. “About Darius, I mean.”

  Heat traveled through her body at his simplistic touch.

  She’d stake the old pervert next time.

  “Here we are.” Hector unlocked the main entrance. “Welcome to O’Malley’s. He’s got the finest old school weapons of Charm City. He won’t cheat you—”

  “Hector.” Louis pulled Evelyn forward. “I’m paying for her weapon. Not you. I know how to haggle with Irishmen. Thanks.”

  The shifter pointed at her. “No. Let her pay.”

  “When I want relationship advice, I’ll ask for it. Until then, stay glued to your harem and control those annoying harpies.”

  “Gentlemen.” Eisen’s exasperated tone carried through the air. “Stop bickering. It doesn’t suit you.”

  No. It didn’t.

  Evelyn made her way inside the shop, staying with the perimeter of the store. Antique relics sat in glass display boxes. Historic clothing hung on old mannequins. Polisher wafted in the air along with copper and rust. Next to her, a full-sized mannequin wore a blue ballroom gown and held a frilly black and blue parasol.

  It conflicted with the shop’s ancient dreary atmosphere.

  She trailed closer to it, thankful she never favored Victorian styled clothing. The mannequin on her right displayed a beautiful black kimono with a rose floral pattern, poufy pink pants, and a simplistic parasol.

  Too bad she wasn’t Japanese.

  Kimonos rocked.

  “Evenin’.” A long, blond-haired man rested his elbows on the glass countertop. “Welcome to my humble abode, lass. How can I help ye?”

  She gestured to the two mannequins. “Those dresses seem out of place for an arms dealer.”

  “On the contrary.” The man slid away from the counter. “They’re a woman’s perfect weapon. The clothing is dated but the parasols are true masterpieces.”

  Evelyn raised her eyebrow. “Parasols?”

  “Of course. Allow me to show you a demonstration.”

  Sure. And she’d become the Penguin.

  She met another certified nutcase.

  “These parasols have their weapons inside the handle.” He went over to the kimono. “Their history is quite fascinating. They designed these weapons for women to combat their attackers as early as the Feudal Era. Nowadays, they’re used by mages or ladies of the nobility as a mascot of their worth. They have a myriad of uses, though.”

  To a mage perhaps.

  This primitive weapon wouldn’t suit her.

  She could consider a bladed parasol, but this was a fantasy-based weapon. No one would consider using such an outdated weapon. People had cheap ten-dollar umbrellas from Dollar Tree or Walmart. Also, it would become cumbersome in street fights unless they came with an enhanced deflective barrier. Then again, a mage or shifter with charmed jewelry or tattoos could negate this weapon’s properties.

  Jemina and Joe had negation rings. They could combat this.

  Otherwise, it’d be game over.

  “O’Malley makes a good point.” Louis walked in and stood next to the kimono. “This weapon could go with you everywhere. You never know when it’ll rain, and a security guard won’t confiscate it at public events. Also, it’s an adorable fashion accessory.”

  She puckered her lips. “What if they’re magical security guards?”

  “Then we’ll take proper precautions.” He held up a finger. “Enchanted weapons are well worth the investment. You’d never have to replace the weapon unless it breaks.”

  Nope. No way in hell.

  Magic artifacts weren’t her style.

  “Evie, hear me out.” Louis unsheathed the weapon from the frilly parasol. “You killed a woman with a metal nail file. You could use this weapon effectively. You’re already a femme fatale with your escorting job. You keep millionaires and lonely businessmen company. Why not add a concealed weapon like those chopsticks of yours?”

  Because she had style.

  “Here.” He wrapped her hands around the tanto blade’s handle. “You need something fast and lightweight. It’ll accent the femme fatale vibe and go with your bladed chopsticks.”

  Her palms turned sweaty. She had a momentary hot flash.

  His human side overrode his undead one again.

  A vampire wouldn’t consider this weapon. The pointy end became one of their weaknesses. Bless it with God’s Divine Righteousness and she’d become a vampire killing machine. Buffy could eat her heart out. Why give her the chance to impale her enemies with a blessed blade?

  Insurance against Darius? Maybe. But he’d override Louis and object.

  Still, Dracula stayed quiet so far.

  “All right.” She tightened her grip on the blade. “You made some valid points.”

  Evelyn lifted it over her head.

  “Not like that.” He tugged down, lowering the blade. “Back up a second.”

  She skittered away.

  “You want the element of surprise.” Louis sheathed the blade. “Make it a natural movement.” He jerked his arm back and unsheathed the taint. “Or, you could unsheathe it from your side. It’s up to you. Either way, you won’t need a handgun to protect Eisen. You’ve got enough muscle to handle this.”

  Yeah. She did.

  “All right.” Evelyn sheathed the parasol and rested it over her shoulder. “I’m glad you suggested it.”

  “There are other weapons here, lass.” O’Malley patted the display case. “You might want a secondary blade or a pistol.”

  She drummed her fingernails against the handle. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”

  “Do you want the kimono, too?”

  Louis’s eyes twinkled. “Yes. Add it, please.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  Butterflies flitted in her stomach.

  Men didn’t spend hundreds of dollars on her. They spent thirty dollars and change for their dinner and a movie date. Yet Louis dropped three figures on a weapon and a dress for her.

  Or four. Maybe five.

  She’d never live in poverty again.

  “Hon, wait for me outside. We’ll head to your work afterwards.”

  “Wait.” She rummaged through her purse. “Let me—”

  “A gentleman doesn’t make his girlfriend pay for gifts.” He opened his wallet, then handed O’Malley a black credit card. “They ruined the last gift I bought for you and you deserve something nice.”

  Good point.

  She earned this victory.

  “Evelyn.” Hector poked his head into the shop. “We’re about to leave. Are you almost done looking around?”

  “Yeah.” She moved past him. “He's paying for it now.”

  “Good. Head to the car. Eisen’s getting antsy.”

  Jesus. She was more impatient than the terse shifter giving her orders.

  Evelyn made her way outside and breathed the smoggy air in, then leaned against th
e building. She had to get to Vixens. There was no way she'd leave her girls behind. Even if they underwent new management, she wanted to tell them the news herself. Girls like Yasmine would look for other employment without giving a two-week notice.

  At least they would learn the truth.

  She had a good run managing Vixens, but this time, she needed to move forward with her life. It came with peril, but she couldn't get fired from this job. Not by a long shot. It came with other perks, too. She’d learn valuable business skills without wasting her money by going to college.

  It almost mimicked an internship. Except interns didn't kill people.

  Her phone vibrated in her purse.

  She reached for her phone and checked her notifications, frowning at the text message Jemina sent her. Her cousin broke the word emergency up into three separate sentences.

  Then another one came in.

  Hurry.

  Evelyn called her.

  Her phone went straight to voicemail.

  She dropped the phone into her purse and hurried over to the limousine. They had to find her. Quick. Her boyfriend’s werewolves couldn't protect her from her diabolical ex-boyfriend.

  Evelyn made a fist until her hand hurt.

  If Simon harmed her, she'd make him pay.

  13

  Picking out a suitable weapon for Evelyn went smoother than Louis expected.

  In truth, the bladed parasol fit her seductive personality, except she didn’t beguile her victims with her feminine charms. Like her, the parasol’s purpose remained hidden. Underneath its decorative design layed a deadly tango blade reinforced by tamahagane—iron sand made into iron ore. The weapon—while dated—suited the femme fatale.

  A gun would ruin her strategic advantage.

  Eisen’s grand plan for Vixens relied on their women’s ability to feign ignorance about their client’s shady activities. Guns and blunt objects negated the business’s image. If one girl remained armed, neither Evelyn nor Eisen would get their competition to spill their secrets.

  Louis whistled, waving to O’Malley when he left.

  He did Eisen a huge favor.

  “I swear, you’re spoiling her, Louie.” Hector fell in step behind him. “She’ll expect expensive presents before long.”

  The businessman shook his head.

  Accepting expensive gifts wasn’t her style.

  “Relax.” Louis pulled his sunglasses from his pocket, then slid them over his eyes. “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t give you unsolicited relationship advice. Besides, Evie’s been appreciative so far.”

  “It’s not her I’m worried about.” Hector’s eyes shined with concern. “Your asshole vampire keeps taunting her whenever he feels like it. Kept mocking her religion, too.”

  “Yeah.” Louis tapped his temple. “He’s never taken an interest in my girlfriends before. He stayed quiet around Marianne.”

  “He’ll drive Evelyn away.”

  The shifter had a point.

  Even Darius feared screwing up this relationship.

  “I know you want this, so control your lecherous vampire before he screws everything up.” Hector pointed at the limo. “And for God’s sake, stop letting him mock her whenever it suits him. Maybe he’s turned on by religious metaphors, but his verbal foreplay is like listening to horrible porn. Put him on mute.”

  If only he could. Darius didn’t come equipped with that function. Or an obedience button either. Otherwise, he’d stop him from slaughtering humans whenever he got hungry. Nonetheless, his shifter friend wouldn’t understand his issues unless he lived with the vampiric entity. He tried, but his empathy wasn’t the same as Louis’s.

  Still, he couldn’t refute his friend’s claims about his counterpart.

  He’d control Darius.

  Somehow.

  “I’ll rein him in.” An empty lie, but his friend wouldn’t question his sincerity. “He’s just a little insecure about her sincerity, that’s all.”

  Oh, please. The half-asleep vampire tsked under his breath. I’m not scared of a naughty Catholic schoolgirl.

  Louis—no, Darius—licked his lips.

  Damn him.

  He misbehaved on purpose.

  “Louis.” Evelyn stomped toward them. “Jem texted me, but I can’t reach her. She sent me broken text messages a few minutes ago.”

  Hector stopped. “No different from her English skills. How come you speak in full sentences?”

  “Because we speak English in Puerto Rico, too.” Her irritated tone switched to concern when she thrust her phone toward them. “But I’m serious, you guys. It doesn’t take three separate text messages to type the word emergency.”

  Her blood aura flickered the longer she waved her Samsung at him. Her succulent scent soured. She swore before slamming her fist against her thigh.

  What happened to her beloved relative?

  Under normal circumstances, Louis wouldn’t bother with such a complicated woman, but Evelyn raised the troublesome woman. She’d insist they look for her. She’d worry until her precious cousin returned. Also, an unhappy woman meant other unwanted complications. She’d pick fights and become reckless.

  She dealt with enough issues right now.

  “Okay.” He held his girlfriend’s wrists and rubbed his thumb along her veins. “Where is Jem?”

  Her head lowered. “I don’t know. I called her earlier, but she went somewhere with her boyfriend. She asked me to call back later because she drove his vehicle on the highway. That was an hour ago. However, this text came through when we talked with O’Malley.”

  She’s talking about the huge woman with those voluptuous tits, right?

  Yes. One day, he’d make Darius remember someone for their personality, not their looks or breast size. The hefty woman who greeted us at Vixens.

  If Evie had bigger—

  “Where did they go?” He frowned, blocking out Darius’s playful quips. “Does she work nights, too?”

  “Sometimes.” Her eyebrows furrowed together. “That might have changed. She got a new job.”

  “Okay.”

  “But she doesn’t work on Monday.” Panic rose in her delicate voice. “Her boyfriend works late during the week. They have a staff meeting about their workload for the week. When she’s home, someone’s always around. If she visits her friends, they don’t let her walk the streets alone. Not after what happened to her.”

  “Don’t worry.” Hector’s voice radiated confidence. “Jem’s fine. She’ll slug anyone who touches her wrong.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” Evelyn put a finger to her lips. “Even with Joe’s Paw Patrol—sorry, his werewolves guarding her—Alexia and Simon might target her. As you know, shifters aren’t suited to fight half-crazed vampires.”

  He slapped a hand across his chest. “I can.”

  “You did so well last time.” She held her phone close to her chest. “Anyway, you don’t count. You have a pet vampire on standby.”

  “Hey, cutie.” Darius clawed his way to the surface. “Vampires are not pets.”

  She pursed her lips together. “You could have fooled me.”

  Louis groaned.

  Evelyn had the shifter part right. They needed protection themselves against magical attacks. Most shifters—Hector included—relied on their bloodlust to subdue their prey. They turned primal. Logic went out the window. Their human advantages went to the wayside until the fight ended.

  The warehouse was a perfect example.

  Hector shouldn’t have attacked him whenever he cast magic.

  “Fighting won’t help.” Louis shoved Darius back and nudged his head toward Hector. “Let Eisen know what’s going on.”

  The shifter ducked into the vehicle.

  “She hasn’t texted me back.” Her bottom lip trembled. “She always answers her text messages. She’s faster when she’s upset, you know. I don’t know how she types on the phone with those thick fingernails of hers.”

  “We’ll find her.�
�� Louis rested a hand over her phone. “We’ll head to your building. Maybe she went there to meet you.”

  “Why would she leave a pack of five werewolves, though?” Evelyn nibbled on her French manicured fingernail. “That makes no sense. They always know her location. Even when she ditches them, there’s Gunther. Her best friend. He’s built like a brick shithouse and should have been a linebacker in high school.”

  “I’m familiar with him.” He patted her arm, biting his lips at the horrendous metaphor. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “She wouldn’t leave me a text like this.”

  “Keep texting her. See if she answers you. In the meantime, we’ll head to Vixens.”

  Evelyn’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Okay.”

  “We’ll find her.” He wrapped her in a one-armed hug and rubbed her back with his free hand. “I promise.”

  She embraced him with a sniffle.

  Her delectable scent waned with her unspoken apology. Those quivering lips—along with her tearful gaze—reminded him of when his family left the reservation. Armed with a few hundred dollar and a job offer, his mother left her only safety net for survival. They struggled until he graduated.

  If she invoked these memories, then she had quite the bond with Jemina and himself.

  They had to find her.

  Someone rolled down the window and cigar smoke wafted through the air. “Louie, come on. Eisen’s getting antsy.”

  Louis guided her into the limousine. “Keep texting her. Try not to break your phone, okay?”

  She nodded, then slipped inside the vehicle.

  You must find this woman soon.

  “Hector, you guys drive to Vixens.” He smoothed the wrinkles of his Jesus shirt. “I’ll scout around the area. Make sure Eisen sustains no more injuries. I’ll call you if I find anything.”

  He power-walked down the street before his friend objected.

  Louis scratched his nose while he walked. He needed a solid plan to deal with Marianne. Why would she pursue Evelyn? She had nothing to gain from attacking Simon’s ex-girlfriend. Then again, her family made no sense when it came to vengeance.

  Their entire family turned insane decades ago.

  No matter. He had to stop this insanity. Otherwise, he’d never be able to court Evelyn. Their relationship would fizzle, smolder to ashes, and then die.