by Dannika Dark
“I’ve seen those guys. They’re tough.” I recalled encounters I’d had with a Regulator or two—guys who dedicated their time to sticking their nose where it didn’t belong. Didn’t bother me one bit, except for the times I was busy staking a Vampire in a public bathroom.
He tucked his hands into the pockets of his tan chinos. “We conduct surprise visits to the relic shops to review inventory and make sure they are not illegally selling stunners or other prohibited items. They know I have relations with the law, so they cannot stop my investigations. Since most of them are conducting illegal trading, they won’t report me or complain. The higher authority does not have the time, interest, or manpower to regulate those shops. Sometimes we find items of interest that link to crimes.”
Seemed reasonable. “Have you ever found anything big? I’m not sure how helpful I can be, Viktor. I don’t have any experience with antiques, but if you need me to rough someone up for information, I’m your girl.”
“Do not diminish the importance of this job. A number of items have led us to an important case or unsolved mystery.” Viktor offered his hand to help me up. “You are more than a huntress, Raven Black. I am here to teach you, so pay attention whenever you’re on assignment. If you can sniff a lie or speak Mandarin, use those talents to your advantage. Do not take for granted what you are knowledgeable in—power is not always about Breed gifts.”
Viktor grimaced when the squeaky wheel on his cart drew the attention of two women standing near a display of Halloween decorations.
I laughed and pointed at a flickering ghost. “I should get that for Wyatt and put it somewhere in his room.”
Viktor paused and searched our surroundings. “Where is everyone? We must go before it gets too late and the shops close.”
When I noticed Christian undressing a mannequin, I handed Viktor several large bills from my wallet. “I’ll get everyone rounded up if you’ll pay for my things. You look a little wiped out.”
He puffed out his chest, clearly insulted. “I come from a long line of Shifters, and before you were born—”
“You don’t have to explain. I was just teasing. I know all the nooks and crannies of this store, so I’ll have a better chance at finding everyone quickly.”
Viktor pursed his lips and nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”
As he walked away, one of the carts clipped a display and knocked the socks onto the floor.
I strode up to Christian and rested my arm on a rack. “Looks like you finally found a woman you don’t have to charm to see naked.”
He circled his finger around the small breast of the mannequin. “Where the feck are their heads?”
“They’re selling clothes. They don’t need heads.”
He arched a dark brow. “When I look at a woman, the first thing I tend to notice is that she has a skull attached to her body. Humans are a morose lot.” He yanked her arm off and waved it in front of me. “Just look at the detail in the hands, but they couldn’t be bothered to give her a head?”
I took the arm and tossed it aside. “So if she had a face, you wouldn’t have ripped off her clothes?”
He shrugged. “I was curious if she had nipples.”
I tugged on his sleeve. “Help me find everyone, partner.”
Christian reached for a bottle of body spray in the center aisle and sprayed it. “Jaysus wept! What dark magic is this?”
I took the bottle and gave it a cursory glance before setting it back on the shelf. “Sweet pea.”
“Why would a lady want to smell like peas?”
We strode toward the outdoor section. “It’s not peas. It’s…”
He gave me a sardonic smile. “It’s what?”
“Um, flowers?”
“And tell me, lass, how often do you find men lingering in the garden so they can smell the daffodils? If a woman wants to attract a man, she needs to smell like bread.”
I choked out a laugh. “I thought you were going to say blood.”
“Because I’m a Vampire?” He glared, moving a step ahead of me.
A young blonde hurried past us, her eyes devouring Christian as he swaggered by in his black trench coat.
I pointed up ahead. “Is that Gem?”
We neared the outdoor patio furniture that was on sale to make room for holiday decorations. Gem looked like a mannequin sitting on the loveseat glider with her lavender hair and Jackie O sunglasses. Scented candles were burning all around her—a sickly-sweet combination of pumpkin spice, sugar cookies, and apple pie.
“Sit next to me, Raven. This is divine! I didn’t know they made chairs that moved. I want one for my bedroom.”
Christian reached out his hand and pulled her to her feet. “Those are what humans put on patios. They’re not for the bedroom.”
She straightened her white sweaterdress. “Says who?”
He pointed at the loveseat. “Says the tag on that chair.”
She reached down and ripped it off. “Now says who?” Even though Gem’s black boots gave her a three-inch lift, she was still shorter than Christian, so she rose up on her tiptoes and gave him a defiant look.
I chuckled softly. “You guys don’t get out much, do you?”
Gem put her sunglasses on top of her head, the tag still hanging from one of the temples. “Never a dull moment with Keystone. Is Viktor ready to go? It looked like he was having second thoughts about this group outing when that woman asked him where the full-figured bras were.” Gem laughed brightly and strode past me. “She thought he was the manager.”
I smiled, following behind. “Maybe she was hitting on him. Viktor’s a dapper guy.”
“Viktor also doesn’t date,” Christian remarked. “She’d be wasting her mortal time.”
I glimpsed us in a mirror. Christian’s V-neck collar exposed half his chest, and the women couldn’t help staring. Even though I was dressed down in a cardigan and jeans, I’d never been the kind of girl who blended into a crowd. My daddy used to say that I didn’t learn how to walk when I was a baby—I learned how to strut.
Gem looked like a snow-fairy diva as she skipped ahead of us. “Claude! Oh, Claauude.”
An awkward silence fell between Christian and me. Viktor had made us partners, but since we hadn’t worked on any cases together, we didn’t have the same bond between us that the others had. Aside from that, Christian wasn’t exactly the most affable guy. We both had our misgivings about this relationship, so maybe I needed to make more of an effort.
“Why don’t we go out for a drink sometime?” I suggested.
He stopped and folded his arms. “Do you think we’ll get on better if you’re intoxicated?”
“Partners go out for drinks all the time. Don’t you watch those cop movies?”
“I don’t get out much. Remember? And to what do I owe the pleasure of your releasing the white doves and offering me an olive branch?”
I playfully slapped his arm. “I’m not asking you out on a date. But if I’m going to trust you as my partner, maybe I need to know a little more about what kind of man you are and whether or not you can hold your liquor. Or would you rather have an onion-ring-eating contest?”
As we passed the men’s department, he lifted a blue fedora off a display and set it on his head.
I dragged my gaze up to the feather tucked beneath the ribbon. “You look ridiculous.”
He tipped his hat and appraised me with a scolding glance. “And that’s why I won’t have drinks with you.”
“Because I don’t think you can rock a fedora?”
He pinched his beard, feigning being in deep thought. “I find it rather peculiar that a crossbreed such as yourself is so concerned about what people think. You’re not officially Breed until you’ve let go of your inhibitions.”
I searched our surroundings and put the first hat I found on my head. Unfortunately, it was a plaid trapper hat with grey fur. “Tell you what, Mr. Poe. I’ll see your fedora and raise you a drink while wearing the hats. Pick any bar you
want, and whoever takes off their hat first has to pay for everything.”
He chuckled darkly and leaned in close. “Thank the heavenly angels I have expensive taste in alcohol. You might want to return some of those blankets,” he said in a silken voice. “I’m a thirsty man, and you’ll need every penny.”
Claude casually strolled up to us with a little girl in pigtails sitting atop his broad shoulders. She looked about two or three and was having the time of her life with a six-and-a-half-foot-tall Chitah.
“Claude, why do you have a child?” I asked with a quizzical stare.
The little girl was mesmerized by his dark blond hair, her tiny fingers styling the large curls. He kept hold of her white shoes so she wouldn’t fall off.
“It seems that humans don’t keep a close eye on their valuables.”
Christian’s brows slanted down. “So… finders keepers?”
“Way up high!” the little girl squealed.
“Put the human down,” Christian bit out. “We have work to do.”
Claude remained cemented in place. “I’m not abandoning the child like her parents did.”
“Avery!” a man shouted. “Jesus, I’ve been looking everywhere.”
I gave him a scathing glance and realized he was probably new to fatherhood. He looked like a kid fresh out of college who’d accidentally slipped into a vagina and made a baby. He quickly assessed our group and decided we weren’t kidnappers. Young men were quite dumb in that regard.
The man reached up. “Get down here. You’re in big trouble.”
The little girl whimpered, and when she wrapped her tiny arms around Claude’s head, his eyes narrowed.
“How did you lose her?” Claude asked, his voice tight.
“What?” The man’s face contorted as if he wasn’t sure whether to be pissed off or insulted.
Claude’s lips peeled back. “Your child. I was just wondering how it is you lost a whole child.”
“Put my kid down before I call security.”
“Do that,” Claude invited him. “I’m eager to inform them how neglectful a male you are.”
Christian put his arm around my shoulders and led me away. “Best we let those two sort it out. Security cameras and all.” He gave my back a quick pat and put distance between us again. “It’ll be freezing weather in a fortnight. Maybe you should buy a jacket while we’re here.”
“I have a coat,” I said, thinking about my black hoodie.
“Ah, yes. You mean the one that looks like rats nibbled on the collar?” He lifted a leather jacket from the rack and draped it over his shoulder. “You can’t go traipsing around in a cardigan when it’s snowing, especially since you’re not a real Vampire. Spend your money on things that matter.”
I snatched the jacket from his arm. “Having new sheets under my nose that don’t smell like an old man’s ass is worth the expense. You also seem to forget I’m half Mage, which means when it’s cold, I can race to the nearest door. Earmuffs and jackets aren’t high on the priority list.”
Christian stopped midstep and paused in front of a mannequin wearing a lacy red-and-black bra with matching panties. He ran his finger over the little bow in the middle. “And how high is something like this on your priority list, Precious?”
“I don’t need underwear that looks like a hooker’s tablecloth.”
He arched his brow, his voice rising an octave. “I beg to disagree. I’ve been on laundry duty this week, and your lady garments are an insult to all things feminine. Did you know you have a hole in the green ones? And who the feck wears green underwear besides the Jolly Green Giant?”
I turned, startled by a loud noise that sounded like rapid gunfire coming from the kitchen appliances. Shepherd was standing with a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, popping popcorn. His dark buzz cut and punishing gaze made him look more like a criminal than a casual shopper. Especially since he’d left his leather jacket in the van, drawing attention to the phoenix tattoo on his right arm along with the various scars. Shepherd didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass what people thought about him.
“Sir, you can’t do that in here.” A round woman anchored her fists on her hips and cast an irritated glare at him. “Unplug that immediately before I call security.”
“Something tells me they’re already on their way,” I murmured to Christian.
Shepherd shut off the machine and struggled with the lid. When it flipped off, popcorn exploded everywhere.
“You can’t smoke in here,” she added. “I need you to leave.”
He gave her an indignant look before he stamped out his cigarette on top of a cardboard box, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and walked away.
What if they call the cops? I just met the Mageri, and the last thing I wanted to do was end up on their naughty list by getting arrested by the human police. And they’d be able to track that kind of thing easily now that I had an official alias. Once that information is entered into the system, it flags one of our insiders who monitor police databases to keep Breed out of them.
“Do you hear Niko anywhere?” I asked Christian.
He turned in a slow circle, and then a smile touched his lips. “I’ll just be off to fetch the poor bastard. Sounds like he’s lost in the dressing room.”
As Christian stalked off, I turned around and slammed into Wyatt.
He gripped my arms. “Do you see a short woman in a blue dress standing behind me?”
I peered around his shoulder. “No.”
His eyes fluttered up, and he cursed under his breath. “That’s what I thought. She doesn’t look like a freshy. The ones who stick around the longest aren’t always right in the head.”
“There’s no one there, Wyatt. Who would spend their afterlife in a department store?”
“Someone who shuffled off this mortal coil but still likes a good bargain?”
I grinned, my voice playfully sinister when I said, “Maybe someone who’s willing to kill for one.”
“Don’t even joke about it. I don’t need another specter in my life. I’m all booked up on crazy.”
Shepherd clapped a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder, and Wyatt recoiled, spinning around and shoving him away. Wyatt took one look at Shepherd’s chest, and his eyes widened. He stumbled backward and then jogged in the other direction.
Shepherd glanced down and brushed his hand down his shirt as if he’d spilled something on it. “Viktor’s done checking out. Where’s Claude?”
The intercom switched on, and a woman repeated urgent codes on the PA.
Shepherd gripped the back of his neck, his eyes closed. “Don’t tell me. That’s for Claude, am I right?”
“Yep.”
Shepherd squinted, trying to see across the store. “This looks like something we’ll need to deny later.”
Chapter 2
Going on a shopping spree with Keystone was like going to the carnival. Shepherd had to pry the human child away from Claude before the father went apeshit. And while the police never showed, Christian used his Vampire magic on the workers to scrub their memory of the whole affair. I couldn’t imagine having someone erase my memories so casually, as if they were cleaning a messy drawer.
After we gathered our purchases, we headed to the Breed district and pulled into the parking lot of a pawnshop called Pawn of the Dead.
“Clever,” I said, glancing up at the sign.
Wyatt leaned against his small car, which looked like a toy beside our black van. His black cowboy boots scraped on the asphalt as he shifted his feet. “Do you know why that name’s appropriate? Because when the final curtain comes down on an immortal, what do you think happens to all his stuff? He doesn’t have any kids, so unless he left a will, which most don’t, it gets turned over to the resale shops.” He tucked his hands in his green army jacket when a gust of wind ruffled his light-brown hair.
“I didn’t realize there was such a demand for other people’s junk,” I said.
“Junk? Some of these immortals have bee
n around since before the Pharaohs. There’s some interesting shit in there you can’t even find in a museum.”
I’d never given much thought to the sheer number of possessions an immortal would amass after five or more centuries. Shifters, Chitahs, Gravewalkers, and Sensors were just a few examples of semi-immortal Breeds who lived a long time and could have children. Their stuff was probably passed down in the family and distributed among the children. But many immortals lived alone in mansions, and there was no telling how many rare collectibles they kept that were worth a fortune. Immortals severed ties with their human families, so it made me think twice about accumulating too many things. Someday they’d end up in a shop like this—my life for sale.
The team shuffled toward the door, spacing apart, but I stayed close to Wyatt to keep our conversation going.
“Nobody goes through their belongings before they’re hauled away to the shop?” I asked.
He rubbed his nose. “Sometimes Regulators poke around if they’re on the scene and filing a report, but nobody has time to wade through all that stuff and figure out what’s worth money. You gotta understand that most of these ancients hold on to things because they mean something personal, not because they’re valuable. They probably have gold bars lying around in the basement to ensure their survival, but you won’t see those on store shelves.”
“What about jewelry?”
“Yeah, they have a jewelry section. The people who clear out their homes when they die aren’t going to steal that stuff, though. It’s not worth the hassle since gemstone dealers don’t pay a whole lot. A few thousand dollars isn’t the kind of money that changes an immortal’s life.”
As soon as we entered the shop, it smelled like a musty old trunk. Just an ungodly mix of fragrances I couldn’t name.
