Anthony saw the expression on my face. “I told you that you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Crosses don’t work on vampires.”
He tucked the necklace back in his shirt. “It worked on this one. She knocked me down, wrapped her hands around my throat, moved in for the kill, and then screamed like a banshee when she touched it. Her skin even started smoking. Next thing I know, she’s gone. I checked on Mr. Sheldon but…” He glanced out the window, gasping for air, trying not to hyperventilate.
I reached over and put my hand on his knee. “It’s okay.”
He nodded, his breathing slowly getting back to normal. “I checked on Mr. Sheldon and saw that he was dead, so I called 911. The sheriff kept asking me the same questions over and over. He knew I was hiding something.”
I patted his leg. “Don’t worry about it. You did good.”
He nodded, glancing at me, the fear back in his eyes. “She didn’t look like you. Not like you or Paige or Pita, or even Granny Mags.” He trembled. “Her skin was chalk-white, with blue veins running all over, and her eyes were all black.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Gross.”
He nodded. “Very.”
A creepy vampire going around killing people was definitely something that needed to be looked into, but the next thing on my to-do list had nothing to do with the supernatural. “Anthony, I know you’ve had a rough morning but I have one more errand to run before we go home. You feel up to it?”
He nodded.
“Excellent.”
I pulled out of the parking space, looking in the rearview mirror at the library. The sheriff was still in there, and he’d probably be there for a while since he was determined to get to the bottom of this. I seriously doubted his training had prepared him for anything like this.
The ride to Witch Hazel’s Farmer’s Market was a quiet one, with Anthony content to just look out the window, watching the scenery pass us by. Ever since he had started working for us last year, his life had been anything but boring, but this was probably as up-close and personal as death had ever been for him. I was going to do my best to make sure it didn’t get any closer.
Chapter 7
Witch Hazel’s, the local one-stop shop for fruits and vegetables, had a steady flow of customers, as usual. I don’t think I’d ever seen the place hurting for business. People around town tended to say it was because Hazel was so friendly and personable that they’d stop by to visit even if they didn’t need anything.
I personally had yet to see her friendly side, but the quality of her produce couldn’t be beat, and she had always acted professional with me, even if the temperature did seem to drop ten degrees whenever she rang up my purchases.
“This won’t take long,” I said to Anthony. “Just kick back and relax.” When he didn’t respond, I glanced over to see him slumped in the seat, sleeping. I bit back a laugh. From scared to death to lost in dreamland. The skinny kid was a lot tougher than he looked.
I slid out of the truck and pushed the door closed as quietly as possible, looking through the window at the bruises on his neck. It would take a while for those bruises to heal. I guess he could always go with a turtleneck look for a while. Those were fashionable, right?
I turned and headed into the large orange tent that housed Witch Hazel’s Farmers Market.
Why the woman didn’t have an actual building was beyond me. Maybe she liked the natural farmer’s market feel the tent gave off. Maybe she just liked the color orange and needed an excuse to use the big ugly thing. There was no telling with her.
The crazy owner of the crazy tent-store wandered into view as I picked up a basket. Witch Hazel herself. Short, round, long red hair, and freckles everywhere, dressed in a long black dress with an orange scarf draped over her shoulders. A pointy, wide-brimmed witch’s hat completed her unique wardrobe..
Her back was to me, but she whirled around in an instant, as if she knew I was looking at her, but that had to be a coincidence. If she was a real witch, I was a Chihuahua. She glared at me as I walked down the aisle. I pretended not to notice, although what I really wanted to do was drag her out back, flash my fangs, and threaten to drain her dry if she didn’t pull that king-size broom out of her butt. It was getting old and today wasn’t a good day for anyone to give me attitude.
I was so busy pretending not to notice her that I really didn’t notice her coming up behind me until she tapped me on the shoulder. Damn, I was getting old. I turned to look at her, amused at the anger flashing in her green eyes. “Hi, little witch,” I said, a slow smile spreading across my face. “Looking for a broom to put between your legs?”
Her glare intensified. “I know what you are, she-demon.” She reached into a pocket of her dress and threw a small paper packet at me that exploded in my face. “Be gone, foul creature,” she shouted, waving her hands in the air.
I wiped powder from my eyes, struggling to see. A strange but familiar scent assaulted my nostrils. I breathed it in. Sneezed. “Garlic powder?” I asked, shock in my voice. “Seriously?” I sneezed again.
“I know what you are,” she said again. “I’ve suspected for some time, but after what happened to Mr. Sheldon, I know.”
I glanced around at the other customers, who were all staring at us. I forced a laugh. “It’s okay, folks. Just a practical joke between two friends. No big deal.” I looked back at Hazel, lowering my voice so nobody else could hear. “What the hell is your problem, woman?”
“You’re a vampire.”
I didn’t know how she knew but it was useless to argue the point with her. “Yeah. So?”
“You killed Mr. Sheldon. You or one of your hell-spawn sisters.”
“Ease up on the hell-spawn and she-demon stuff, lady. If I was so evil, you’d be dead right now.” I dusted garlic powder off my shirt as I continued with my shopping and sneezed again. “Believe it. So dead.”
She watched the remnants of her secret weapon fall to the ground. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why doesn’t garlic affect you?”
“Old wives tale. You’d know that if you were a real witch.”
The hurt, indignant look on her face made getting doused with garlic powder almost worthwhile. Almost.
“I bet you’d die if I hammered a wooden stake through your heart,” she said, refusing to let the vampire thing go.
I rolled my eyes. “I bet you would, too.”
She opened her mouth, closed it. It wasn’t like she could deny that little fact.
“How do you know the librarian was killed by a vampire?” I asked.
“I sensed a great darkness upon the library… and the empty void of death.” She shrugged. “And the ambulance stopped by here so one of the EMTs could get a remedy for a queasy stomach from me. Apparently, it was bad.” She narrowed her eyes. “Anyway, you and your sisters are the only dark things in town so it has to be you.”
“Seriously? Make like Elsa, Hazel, and let it go.” I walked up to the counter and Hazel scurried behind it. I rolled my eyes. She had a thing against vampires but a vampire’s money was apparently okay.
“You just watch your step, daughter of darkness.” Hazel’s angry green eyes drilled into me. “You step out of line and I’ll curse you for all time.”
I laughed. “Sure you will. I’m shaking in my shoes.”
She snapped her fingers and waved her hand at me in some strange pattern. “You asked for that.”
“Whatever you say.” I waved back at her, making a big circle in the air. “Ohhhh,” I said. “Step back. I’m doing magic.” I sneered at her, turned, and tripped, barely catching myself on a shelf of tomatoes.
“What the hell,” I grumbled, glancing down at my feet. My shoe was untied. I looked up at Hazel, who gave me a smug look before turning to help another customer.
“Coincidence,” I muttered, tying my shoe and heading for the SUV. Before I reached the door, my shoe had come untied and tripped me again. I looked back in the tent but Hazel was out of sight. “
No way,” I said. “Coincidence. That’s all it is.”
Chapter 8
When we got back home, I was hailed as a hero. Shortly after I had left, Pita had retreated to the kitchen and Paige was left manning the desk by herself. Her nerves were on edge after having to deal with so many humans without eating them. She was so thrilled to see Anthony that she didn’t even threaten to kill him.
“You know I’m not used to this, Penny,” Paige whined. She collapsed in one of the over-stuffed chairs in the den, sipping a glass of wine. I resisted the urge to point out that it was barely noon as I fed Peter Vincent – who was perched on my shoulder – a piece of mango from a small bowl.
“Remember Transylvania?” Paige asked.
I nodded.
“Well, this isn’t like that at all. It was an endless buffet. Crazy tourists from all over the world, and nobody would miss them if they disappeared.” She shrugged. “Well, they wouldn’t be missed locally, anyway.” She glanced around as Mr. and Mrs. Davis walked by. “But here, we have to behave here. Even though we’re still surrounded by tourists, we have to treat them like they’re not food.” She motioned towards Anthony behind the front desk. “And poor Anthony. He’s ours, and someone hurt him. In the old days, we would’ve killed half the town just to find out who did it.”
“Times change,” I said.
“Sadly, that’s true.” She took another sip of wine.
Pita came running down the stairs, and I knew from the look on her face that she wasn’t the bearer of good news. “Guys, we have a problem.”
“Yes,” Paige said, her voice filled with sadness. “A houseful of humans, and we can’t even snack.”
“No,” Pita said, the worry in her voice thick enough to cut with a knife. “A houseful of humans and Granny Mags isn’t in her room.”
Damn it. I had sent Pita to check on Granny before dropping the killer vampire bombshell on them because leaving Granny alone for too long was never a good idea. At the time, the worst I expected was Pita getting a scolding for waking Granny from her nap. But if she wasn’t in her room… Damn it. This was a recipe for disaster.
I was just about to lay out a plan of attack so we could find her when a loud, blood-curdling scream drew our attention upstairs.
“Oh this is going to be good,” Peter Vincent said, taking flight as the three of us ran to the second floor as fast as possible, which is pretty darn fast when you consider vampire speed. Any humans who might have been looking at us would’ve seen three women just suddenly disappear into thin air.
When we got to the second floor, I bit back a groan. Jasper. It had to be Jasper. He stood outside the bathroom, staring in as if seeing a ghost, his wide eyes threatening to almost pop out of his face, his mouth hanging open as if he’d forgotten how to close it. Seeing him look so terrified was like seeing a puppy cower in a corner. It tugged at the heartstrings.
I approached slowly, cautiously. “Jasper,” I whispered. He just stared straight ahead.
Bracing myself for who knows what, I threw myself in front of him, baring my fangs at the unknown enemy now that the human was behind me and unable to see. Peter Vincent landed on my shoulder.
A tiny squeak of a laugh escaped from my furry pet. “Yep,” he said. “Knew this was going to be good. Who brought the popcorn?”
Granny Mags stood at the sink, calmly brushing her teeth. In her left hand was her toothbrush. In her right hand was a .357 Magnum. It had been pointed right between Jasper’s legs before I blocked her shot. What can I say? Granny wasn’t called Mags for nothing.
“Granny, what are you doing? Jasper is a guest.”
Granny spit toothpaste into the sink, her aim never wavering. “A guest? He’s a Peeping Tom. He barged in here without knocking, trying to get a look at my unmentionables.”
“I swear,” Jasper said, “I was just going to use the bathroom. I didn’t realize anyone was in there.”
“He’s lying,” Granny said, rinsing off her toothbrush and shoving it in the pocket of her robe.
“Why are you even using the guest bathroom, Granny,” Pita asked. “You have a bathroom in your room.”
She turned and faced us, one hand grabbing the cane that had been propped against the counter, the other still wrapped around the handle of her gun, which was thankfully now pointed at the floor. “Do you know how long I’ve walked this Earth?” she asked. “I should be able to use any bathroom I please, instead of being treated like a prisoner, always being told when to do something or where to do something.”
She leaned her cane against the counter again and reached up with a trembling hand to wipe a tear that wasn’t there. “It’s just not fair.” Her voice even had a little tremble in it.
“Granny,” I said, “you don’t need to wipe away any tears. You’re not crying.”
She snatched up her cane. “See if you have any tears left when you’re as old as me.” She charged forward like the little senior engine that could, and I quickly stepped back and to the side, pulling Jasper with me.
Realizing Granny was on the move, Pita and Paige quickly ran downstairs. My traitorous fruit bat joined them, shouting ‘Good luck’ as he swooped down to the safety of the first floor.
Turning towards her bedroom, Granny looked over her shoulder and glared at Jasper. “I’ve got my eye on you.” She bared her fangs and hissed like an angry cat.
Jasper sucked in a quick breath of air. He didn’t exhale.
After glaring a few more seconds, Granny turned and went to her room. We both stood and watched, not making a sound until her door closed.
“She’s gone,” I said. “You can breathe now.”
With a WOOSH of air, Jasper started breathing again. I turned and looked at him, offering a weak smile. “I’m sorry about that. Granny’s old and… well, she just really doesn’t like people.”
Jasper nodded, beads of sweat on his forehead. “It’s okay. No problem.” He turned and started towards his room.
“I thought you needed the bathroom.”
He waved my statement off, still walking slowly towards his room. “No. Not anymore. I’m fine. I just need a shower. And a fresh pair of pants. And a nap. A nice, long, soothing nap.” He opened his door and disappeared quickly into his room. I heard a click as he locked the door. And then another click as a different door opened. Mr. Robertson had opened his door just enough to peek out.
“Hi, Mr. Robertson,” I said, offering what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Nothing to worry about. Just another fun-filled day at the Dreadful Inn.”
He narrowed his eyes, disbelief obvious on the part of his face that I could see. I couldn’t really blame him.
“Pita is making a batch of her special blueberry yogurt pancakes tomorrow morning. Do you want me to save a spot at the table for you?”
Without saying a word, he closed the door.
Great. If we were lucky, poor Jasper would just tell people he had a lousy time here. If we were unlucky, he’d probably share his story about the temper-tantrum-throwing ghost and the gun-wielding maniac who threatened him with a gun and a mouthful of toothpaste. And there was no telling what Mr. Robertson might say. That was the most I'd seen of him in days.
I closed my eyes, leaning my forehead against the wall. Talk to Granny about not frightening the guests or focus on the strange new vampire? I sighed. Easy choice. A murderous vampire would be a lot easier to deal with than Granny.
Chapter 9
“White skin with blue veins?” Pita exclaimed. “Gross!”
“That’s disgusting,” Peter Vincent added, having returned to my shoulder for love and mangos since Granny was no longer an immediate threat.
I nodded. “That’s what I said.”
Paige shook her head. “Impossible. Crosses don’t hurt vampires, but the sun does. She’d fry unless she has some type of talisman.” She looked at me. “And how many of those can be floating around?”
I shrugged. “Beats me.”
“Why would she
kill the librarian anyway?”
I shrugged.
We exchanged worried looks. Too many questions. Not enough answers. One thing was certain, though. A vampire, or a vampire-like creature, going around killing people would attract vampire hunters, and that wouldn’t be good for any of us.
“It needs to be stopped,” Paige said.
I nodded as I stood up. “Yeah, and to do that, we need to know more about it. I’m going to take a look around the library, and maybe stop by the sheriff’s office to see if I can find out anything. Oh, did I mention the new sheriff is immune to mental suggestion?”
Paige and Pita gasped.
I nodded. “Yeah, that makes things a whole lot of fun.” I took a step towards the front door and stumbled, making a surprised Peter Vincent take to the air as he lost his balance. My shoe had come untied again.
Pita chuckled as I knelt down to tie it. “Did you forget how to tie your shoes?”
I double-knotted the shoestring and stood back up. “Long story.” And not one I wanted to get into right now. Not while a murderous something was roaming around. Like Paige, I didn’t really believe what we were dealing with was a vampire, but that didn’t bring us any closer to knowing exactly what the thing was.
Paige gasped suddenly, sitting up as straight as a broomstick, her light blue eyes losing their color, becoming as white as freshly-fallen snow. “A shed,” she whispered breathlessly. “A wooden shed with a crooked door. Beware for it holds a dark thing.” She sagged back in her chair, her eyes regaining their normal color.
“That’s it?” Pita asked. “You peek into the future and that’s all we get?”
Paige glared at her. “You know how it works. I can’t control what I see… or how much.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s more than we had a few minutes ago. Now I know to avoid toolsheds with crooked doors.”
“I’m sorry,” Paige said. “I wish there was more.”
The Vampire and the Ink of Doom (Dreadful Vampire Mysteries Book 1) Page 4
