Bronx looked down at me for a call. I just shrugged. “Something like that could work in our favor. This increase in business could be a fluke and someone that is temporary could be best to get us through until it gets quiet again.” I turned my attention back to Jo, who was looking at me with an eager, excited grin. “Is she in Low Town now?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think she could come by tomorrow around seven? I had a cancellation and could do an interview then. If she can’t make it, tell her to call the shop. I’ll try to schedule something over the next week.”
“Thanks! I can’t wait to tell her. I think you guys will get along great with her,” Jo gushed.
I chuckled, but laughter quickly died when a man swept over to Jo’s side as if he had walked straight from the shadows. He roughly grabbed her thin arm, jerking her out of her chair so that she was standing next to him. I started to come out of my chair, aiming to throw the jerk across the room for handling Jo like that, but Bronx’s hand came down on my shoulder hard and held me in my chair. I glared at my companion, but the troll shook his head at me.
The dark expression on Bronx’s face was enough to overcome my caveman instincts and let my brain kick in as I took in the scene before me. Everyone knew Jo was a vampire. Vampires were extremely strong and fast. No one messed with a vampire, and I knew that Jo could take care of herself. Yet, this guy was manhandling Jo with confidence . . . because he was also a vampire. And by the looks of it, Jo was scared of this vampire.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed in her ear, but it was still loud enough for Bronx and me to hear it.
Jo cringed away from him but he leaned in so that his pointy nose was touching the soft shell of her ear. “I told you that we had a concert tonight. We just finished a little while ago.”
“And Royce has already checked in. You have not.” His hand tightened on her arm, causing Jo to grimace in pain. At the same time, Bronx’s hand on my shoulder increased its pressure, wisely holding me in place.
“I was just getting ready to leave,” Jo said quickly.
“Yes, you were. Now, say good-bye to your little fans.” He commanded sarcastically before turning his narrowed gaze on me. I glared at him for a moment before Jo’s wavering voice captured my attention.
“It was nice to see you, Gage, Bronx. Thanks for coming. I’ll try to email you soon.” Jo smiled at me, but it didn’t reach her sad bluish-white eyes. I clenched my teeth, not trusting myself enough to speak. I nodded stiffly to her, but I wasn’t sure she saw it because the douche bag on her arm jerked her out of the club in the blink of an eye.
Bronx released my shoulder and I twisted around to see Jo, but she and her companion had disappeared completely. I frowned as I slid out of my chair at the same time as Bronx. “Thanks. You’re a great wingman.”
“It’s a wingman’s duty to keep his friend from committing suicide,” Bronx said.
A human attacking a vampire after sunset was viewed as suicide, but then I had a few tricks up my sleeve no human had. I would have probably survived the encounter with the vampire, but then I would have been killed by someone else because of my using magic.
“I’m guessing that you have no idea who that was,” Bronx continued, drawing my attention back to him as we wandered through Boggart’s and back to the parking lot that held my beat-up SUV.
“No clue. Never seen him before, but then I’ve not had a lot of run-ins with blood suckers. You?”
Bronx shook his head. “Never seen him before.”
With my hands shoved in my pockets, I briefly looked both ways before crossing the street, feeling grateful that I had left a jacket in the backseat of my car. The air was getting crisp and I had a feeling that we were only a few weeks away from our first snow of the season.
“How are you with vampires?”
Bronx paused in the process of reaching for the door handle. “What do you mean?”
“Ever ripped the head off one?”
The troll gave a little snort. “There are times when I think our souls were switched at birth. You should have been born a troll. And, no, I’ve never ripped the head off a vampire.”
“It may be time to look into such things,” I muttered, climbing into the car.
Bronx climbed in beside me and clicked his seat belt in place. “And maybe you should slow down and wait. Talk to Jo first.”
I shoved the key in the ignition and froze. “You don’t think I should interfere?”
“I think you need to talk to Jo first. Vampire society is different than human society—different rules, behaviors, and codes. She might not want you to interfere. You might make things worse.”
I grimaced. I didn’t like the idea of waiting, but Bronx made a good argument. “You’re right.” I turned the key, starting the car to growling. “I’ll talk to Jo, see what’s happening. And then I’ll rip his head off.”
“And I’ll hold him down.”
I smiled as I pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the south side of Low Town. It was good to have a troll as a wingman.
CHAPTER TWO
Trixie was not what I expected. At roughly seven o’clock, I found myself sitting at the glass case in the lobby of Asylum, making some notes after getting off the phone with one of my ingredients suppliers, when a woman walked into the parlor. As she stepped over the threshold, I noticed that there was a double image of her. The first layer was the image of a woman with dark brown hair, a sweet, heart-shaped face, and round brown eyes. From what I could tell, the brunette was lovely. However, the second layer revealed a breathtaking blonde with almond-shaped green eyes, high cheek bones, and the pointed ears of an elf.
The antiglamour spell I kept on the shop for protection showed the blonde elf who was pretending to be a brunette human walking into my shop. Interesting, but also bad. Elves were good at glamour, but there was really no need for her to hide in the human guise unless she was on the run from something or someone. Definitely not good.
“Trixie Ravenwood?�� I asked as she approached the glass case.
She stopped in mid-stride, her brows bunching over her small nose. “Yes, but how did you . . . ?”
I nodded to the black leather portfolio she was carrying. “The case. Most customers don’t come in with a large selection of ink designs,” I replied, rather than revealing how my life seemed to welcome trouble in all its forms.
“Oh, right,” she murmured, seeming to deflate for a second as she relaxed her guard. She then stiffened again as she extended her hand to me. “You must be Gage Powell.”
I shook her hand and smiled. “That’s me. Thanks for coming in tonight. We’ve been slammed and it’s been hard for us to catch a break. Why don’t you step into the back where I can look at your work in a better light?”
Trixie stepped around the glass case and into the next room, where we tattooed. As she walked past me, I took a chance to check her out. Dressed in dark jeans that hugged her hips and legs and a black button-up shirt, she already looked overdressed for a tattoo parlor, but nice for an interview. The human version of Trixie was beautiful, but the elf version snagged my attention. While Jo had a dark, dangerous allure to her, Trixie was a delicate angel who should be revered and worshipped. Yeah, she wouldn’t be a distraction.
I moved to follow her into the tattooing room, but she stopped just over the threshold. I looked over her shoulder to find that she was staring at Bronx as he sat on his stool munching on a turkey sandwich.
“That’s just Bronx. He’s doesn’t bite.”
“I know he doesn’t bite,” she said irritably. “I just didn’t know there were any trolls who tattooed.”
Bronx put down his sandwich on the plastic wrap it had been covered in and brushed his fingers off on his pants before extending a hand to her. “There aren’t many of us, but I’ve been told I do good work.”
“He does great work,” I chimed in as I walked over to my stool and sat down as she shook Bronx’s hand.
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“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to insult you,” Trixie said, smiling lightly at my companion.
“You didn’t. I tend to surprise a lot of people.”
“Let me see your portfolio,” I said, stretching out my hand. Trixie handed it over before settling in a folding chair on the opposite side of the room between Bronx and myself. The troll started to wrap up his half-finished sandwich and I shook my head. “Finish. I’m sure Trixie won’t mind.”
“Please do,” she added quickly. “Mr. Powell said that you are extremely busy.”
Bronx only hesitated for a moment before unwrapping his sandwich. “Thanks. It’s my only break of the night.”
It was then that I looked around the large open area we used for tattooing. I gave a little laugh as I looked over at my coworker. “I just realized that I’ll need to have a third chair put in if I hire another artist. I’m sure there’d be times that all three artists could be inking at once.”
“True. How long would we be down?” Bronx asked as he inhaled the last of his sandwich. He then reached into the brown paper bag at his feet and pulled out two more sandwiches. I didn’t tell Trixie that those were actually his fourth and fifth sandwiches. The troll could eat, which was one of the reasons I had never offered to pick up the tab—he’d break my fucking wallet.
“Just a day. I could get some people to bring in a chair, rearrange them, and then bolt them down. I could then come in early the next day to re-sterilize everything.”
Bronx laughed as he swallowed his bite. “I could use a day off.”
Shaking my head, I opened Trixie’s portfolio and set it on the tattooing chair in front of me. Her distracting looks were quickly forgotten when I saw the photos in her portfolio. Jo had not exaggerated. Trixie was talented. I’d be crazy not to have her on staff, particularly if she could also stir a decent potion and get along with Bronx and me.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Powell, but I’m not actually here for a job,” Trixie began in a firm voice, dragging my eyes from the photos before me. My stomach sank and I frowned. Not exactly what I was expecting to hear.
“First off, it’s Gage. And second, what are you talking about? You don’t need a job?”
“No, I do need a job, but it’s not my real reason for being here.”
I sat back in my chair and folded my arms over my chest. Here it comes. She was going to spill out why she was using glamour and how her trouble was landing on my doorstep.
“I want your help in freeing Jo,” she said, confusing me more ways than I could count. That was unexpected.
I shifted in my chair, fighting the urge to rise and pace the room. “What are you talking about?”
“Jo said that you used to date. I thought you might be willing to help her.”
“Yes, but last night was the first time I’ve seen her in more than two years. What are you talking about? Free her from what? She seemed fine last night.”
“Except . . .” Bronx’s pointed look reminded me of Jo’s unknown man. I had emailed to check in, demanding an explanation, but I had yet to hear back.
“You saw Chester?” Trixie gasped, jumping out of her chair.
I snickered, unable to stop it. “Chester? The vamp’s name is Chester?”
“Gage,” Bronx said in a warning voice as I caught the glare from Trixie.
I cleared my throat and sat up. “Sorry.” But really, what self-respecting vampire had a name like Chester? Most of the male vampires I had encountered had names like Fang, Blade, and Payne, and it was just hard to be afraid of someone named Chester.
“Yes, I believe we saw him,” Bronx said when I didn’t speak. I was still trying to pull myself together. “Tall vampire with dark brown hair.”
Trixie sank back into her seat, looking a little frustrated. “I’ve actually never seen him. Jo just told me about him. He’s the only one who threatens her.”
“He was that,” Bronx admitted.
“Why don’t you tell us what you know?” I asked, finally putting my thoughts back on track. “As I said before, last night was the first time I’ve seen Jo in over two years.”
Trixie dragged in a deep breath and folded her hands together in her lap. “When I met Jo in June out on the Coast, she was already talking about leaving the band. She said she was getting tired of the travel, tired of putting up with Royce, and it seemed like Kevin and Daisy were looking to settle down with a pack to have kids. She mentioned wanting to come back to Low Town and a month ago, she did.”
“Wait!” I interrupted, throwing up my hands. “Jo has been back in town a month?”
“Yes,” Trixie said with a slight hiss and a pointed look that demanded my silence. I shook my head. Jo had come back and didn’t contact me until now. What the fuck? It’s not like I was interested in getting back together, but it would have been nice to know she was moving back.
“Anyway, when she moved back she discovered that she couldn’t rejoin her old nest. Something about no available spots, so she was forced into Chester’s. He’s a cold, manipulative asshole and he’s been making her life hell since she came back to Low Town. I’m afraid of him hurting her.”
“I don’t understand. Why doesn’t she just leave? She left her last nest.”
“If she wants to stay in Low Town, she has to be part of a nest,” Trixie said.
“And there are only two nests in Low Town,” Bronx added.
“I guess I still don’t understand. Why is she a part of this nest? I saw her apartment plenty of times when she lived here before and she lived alone. No nest.”
“Did you not study the rulings on the Vampire Bill of Rights in 1914?” Trixie snapped.
“Just the part that all citizens have to have legal documents registered and approved before being turned into a vampire. The rest didn’t apply to me.”
At this point, even Bronx was starting to look a little frustrated. To be honest, the warlock who tutored me in history tended to skip over a lot of vampire history because the Ivory Towers saw them as dead humans that just needed to be buried better. Most spells didn’t work on vampires and the Towers certainly didn’t care about vampire rights. After leaving the Ivory Towers, I had been too busy trying to survive to go back and learn all the history I hadn’t been taught. Of course, I couldn’t tell my companions any of that.
“In 1914, various governments enacted certain rights and restraints on the vampire population,” Bronx explained. “One of the requirements was that all vampires who live in a single city needed to be a part of a government-licensed nest. The nest acts as both enforcement of laws and as a sponsor. If Jo isn’t a part of a nest, it can make her life extremely difficult. The worst of which being that she would lose her BBC and her name and picture could be handed over to the Hunt Club for extermination.”
“Fuck,” I grumbled, shoving to my feet. With my hands folded on my head, I paced away from my chair toward the back room. Jo needed her Blood Bank Card, or BBC as it was popularly known. She had always said that tracking down a willing human and getting a pint was too much hassle and trouble, not to mention risk. She much preferred heading down each night to the local blood bank and picking up what she needed.
And then the fucking Hunt Club was a damned eyesore from the stone ages that needed to be disbanded, but humans still needed that security blanket so they could sleep at night. The Hunt Club was a group of mostly human men who tracked down any creature that had failed to toe the line. Their popular target tended to be vampires since humans were their main prey and the Hunt Club felt the need to strike back.
I paced back into the tattooing room to find Bronx and Trixie silently waiting for me.
“Why the hell didn’t she tell me about this?” I exploded. Trixie jerked in her seat, looking stunned by my anger. “Okay, so we didn’t have the closest of relationships. We didn’t share a lot of private details, but we were friends. She knows she can come to me and I will happily help her with anything. Anything!”
“I think she’s
embarrassed,” Trixie ventured. For the first time, her voice was placating. Whatever she had been trying to get out of me, she finally got. “She didn’t know that I planned to tell you about this. When she mentioned this job to me, she also told me that you used to date. I wasn’t even sure that it ended well, but I thought I would at least try to get your help. Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting much since few humans are willing to take on a master vampire.”
“I’m more than taking this Chester on. I’m ripping his fucking head off for touching her,” I snarled at Trixie and then turned to look at Bronx. “And you promised to hold him down.”
“I will if that’s what you want, but we have to be careful about this, Gage,” Bronx said. “You can’t march in and take on a master vampire. They don’t get to that position based on charm and good grammar.”
“Besides, getting rid of Chester could upset their entire social structure,” Trixie added. “It could destroy the nest and then Jo is still screwed.”
I flopped down in my chair, feeling more frustrated by the minute because I had been neatly excluded from Jo’s life in more ways than I wanted to contemplate, her friend—not Jo—enlightens me to the problem, and then Bronx and Trixie take away my only outlet for my anger, namely kicking Chester’s ass. “Fine, then what do you suggest? Peaceful protest? A letter-writing campaign?”
“You don’t have to be such an ass. I’m worried too,” Trixie snapped, standing so that she could look down at me. “If I hadn’t come here, you wouldn’t have known any of this and she would have continued to suffer. So if you’re done pouting and coddling your bruised ego, maybe you could put your brain to use and think of a viable way to help her.”
My shoulders slumped as I dropped my head into my hands. I was being an ass. I was missing the point, which was that Jo needed help. “You’re right and I’m sorry,” I said. I looked up and found Trixie staring at me with a surprised look on her face. “Never hear that before?” I asked with a smirk.
0.6-The Asylum Interviews: Trixie Page 2
