by Alex Owens
It was an unusually balmy fall night. Even the crickets were busy chirping there creepy little heads off. The leaves crunched under our feet as we made our way from the truck (no, not the big one—his other normal sized truck) and toward the back patio.
As we turned the corner of the house, I saw a man standing over a board he had suspended across two saw horses. He was shirtless and sweaty and bent over with a circular saw in his hand. I could definitely see the family resemblance—in his spectacular ass, that is.
“Hey, Bro...” Linc called out over the whine of the blade as they cut through wood.
“Hey, Rooster!” Linc shouted again.
The saw stopped screeching as it was turned off. Linc’s brother stood up to face us, with a cocky smile spread over his rugged, lickable face. His face stunned me for a moment, but then I came to my senses.
I was so confused. “Rooster? I thought that was your dog’s name?”
Linc chuckled and Rooster elbowed him in the ribs.
“What the hell man?” Linc sputtered, rubbing his chest.
Rooster held up his hand and stepped closer to me. He smiled at first, the kind where a guy is sizing a girl to decide if she’s bangable or not, but as he drew closer his smile faded. He walked a circle around me, his nose leading the way. What the hell was he doing?
Rooster backed away and chucked his brother in the arm, hard.
“Brother of mine, I think we need to get your sniffer checked out. You’ve been on how many dates with this... woman, and you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary?”
I wasn’t sure if I was being insulted or not. So help me, I thought, if he calls me old I was gonna throw down. I looked to Linc for some clue, but he wasn’t even looking at me. Instead, he furrowed his brow at his brother.
Linc shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. “A few... but I don’t know what you mean.”
It was the most serious that I’d ever seen him look. Something bad was about to go down, I just didn’t know what.
Rooster clucked his tongue and stopped face to face with me. His eyes flashed gold and a low growl rumbled up from his throat. His teeth elongated—not the quick pop-out that mine did, but more like a slow eruption of bone through gums.
What the fresh hell was he?
Rooster tipped his head toward the sky and let loose a spine-straightening howl.
I stood with my mouth wide open. I wasn’t terrified, but I wasn’t exactly comfortable standing there either, in front of what I assumed was a werewolf. That didn’t prevent my fangs from dropping though.
“What the f-thuck?”
Practically laughing in my face, Rooster pointed at my mouth and shouted, “You see! She’s a filthy bloodsucker, dumbass!”
That just pissed me off.
I felt transported back to kindergarten when the playground bully punched me in the stomach and I threw up all over my special dress reserved for picture day. Not mortified quite enough, the fat little bastard had called all the kids over and teased me mercilessly. It was the worst day of my innocent little life.
It wasn’t going to go down like that again. I put on my best Ice Queen smile and stepped closer to Rooster. I poked him in the chest with one finger and he stumbled backwards. “What’s so funny? You think I’m something to laugh at—you’re just a stinking dog for god’s sake.”
Linc stepped closer and I turned my wrath on him too. “What does that make you? His groomer?”
Two sets of golden eyes blinked back at me and I realized Linc was one of them too. I’d stumbled into a tiny pack of wolves. Hell, I’d sort of been dating one of them.
I just shook my head.
Right, of course I was. I was the halfway-Lesbian Vampire dating a man-wolf, but not really. Could life get any more fucked up?
I didn’t even want to know the answer to that. I was done with everything and everyone for a while. People suck—that’s what life kept trying to tell me, obviously.
“You know what, fuck you! I hope you both catch a nasty case of mange! And fleas!” I turned to make the grand exit only a pissed-off Vamp chick can do—I stomped off until I was out of their sight line and then I broke into a run. I ran so damn fast that I may have actually reverse the earth’s poles for a brief second.
When I reached my yard, I stopped abruptly in a cloud of dust and let my body settle from the time-warp feeling.
That wasn’t supposed to be there, I thought.
A car was parked in my yard and I didn’t recognize it. There weren’t too many jet black Ferraris on the Shore, so I was fairly confident whoever had been driving it wasn’t from around there. The plates were from New York, which was another giveaway of course. I didn’t know anyone who lived there and even if I did, who the hell shows up at someone’s house uninvited after midnight?
Little tingles snaked around my spine, making me uneasy. I had a strong suspicion that my night had just gone from I-hate-everyone to fucked-beyond-belief in the space of time it had taken me to run my grumpy ass home.
Fabulous, just fabulous.
Chapter Fifteen
“What in the hell are you doing here?” I tossed my purse on the kitchen counter and cracked my knuckles, looking around for things that were easily breakable or irreplaceable. I was pretty sure there was about to be a room-destroying fight.
The black feeling that paralyzed me and plagued Morgan for days enveloped me like a bank of fog rolling in, only it was much stronger now. The source had to be close. So close, and I’d hazard he was standing in front of me.
Clive gave me a smug smile before making himself at home on my couch, hanging his arms over the back of it like he was settling in to watch a movie or something. I was just about to personally wipe that smile off his face when another voice broke the silence.
“You will watch your tone. You forget who you are speaking to,” the clipped voice was coming from over by the bookshelf.
I turned and locked eyes with the bitchy vamp from the bar earlier. Aw, hell no.
I squared my body to face hers. I’d been right, I was about to break shit. I’d start with her perfect little plastic face. A low growl came from my throat and I crouched, ready to spring. She matched me in stance, but I had one thing on my side.
This was my house and I’d do anything to protect what was mine—at all costs.
“Ladies, there’s no need to fight over me,” Clive mocked, “There’s enough of me to go around.”
“Get out of my house and take Slut Barbie with you.” I said, not worrying that Clive was in my blind spot. I’d be able to feel it if he made a move toward me—our connection hummed strong between us, that damned tether vibrating like a plucked chord.
Clearly offended, Barbie’s fangs dropped and she stalked closer, circling to place herself between me and Clive. Interesting. What was she, his bodyguard or something?
“That, I cannot do.” Clive sighed. “This is tiring. I thought it would be fun to watch, but it’s not. Crystal... go wait outside.”
I wasn’t surprised by her name. Not at all. I was surprised that she listened to Clive immediately. It was like he’d flicked a switch and Stepford Barbie had come on out. She left the house without giving me another thought.
I barely had time to register that the oppressive feeling eased up the minute she went outside. Maybe I’d pegged the wrong vamp? Crystal certainly seemed to have it out for me, though I still had no idea why.
“Nice trick,” I said, turning my attention to the ass-hat on the couch. “If I had known she was that easy to get rid of I’d have done it the first time I met her.”
I crossed my arms and waited for Clive to get to the point of this impromptu visit.
He furrowed his brows. “You’ve met before?”
“Sure, earlier at the bar. I assume you had her follow me? You know, since being a creepy stalker seems so like you.”
Clive gestured to the sofa beside him, suggesting that I take a seat. I chose the wing chair out of arm’
s reach instead. “Why are you here?”
“Why do you think I’m here?” he countered.
“What are you, my shrink? Answer my question, or get out.” I reminded myself to dial it down a notch. It wouldn’t do me any good to let Clive know how on edge he made me.
“Still have that charm, I see.” He regarded me with amusement for a long moment. “Why am I here? We have a few things to discuss. Also Bette asked me to check in on you. She wanted to do it herself, but I couldn’t allow that. At least not before coming to see you myself.”
“Allow it? Since when do I have to have your permission to have a visitor, or for that matter to do anything?”
“Since you are living in my territory. Regardless of whether you like it or not, I am responsible for you at the end of the day. And I couldn’t have a member of the Triad getting staked on my turf. Most would assume I was behind it and that would cause a war. So, I had to be sure you had gotten over your little tantrum in Florida before letting Bette into the country.”
“Ah, I get it. Bette figured if you came to see me and I let you live, then she should have no problem knocking on my door. Seeing as how I hate you so much more.” I sat straighter in the chair, trying to make myself appear stronger, more in control of the situation.
Clive smoothed down a crease in his expensive pants, but didn’t respond. That was fine, I had enough to get off my chest that I could carry the conversation alone for hours if need be.
“So this was just a test to see if I’m still pissed at you guys? You know, you could have just called. Why come all the way here for a thirty minute conversation?” My anger was blooming red around the corners of my vision.
Clive didn’t need to answer my last question, not really.
I realized as soon as I spoke that he was working an agenda—coming to my home was the best way to intimidate me and for getting inside my head. As a side benefit, the Triad now knew the strengths and weaknesses of my little haven, should they ever need to take me out.
Looking around at my house that felt so perfect only hours before, with the original Boogey Man sitting on my couch, my home felt like a death trap. Instead of spending gobs of money and time on my bathroom sanctuary, I should have invested in a panic room, or at least made plans for how to keep Quinn and Morgan safe when (not if, I saw in that moment) the bag guys showed up.
Little too late, it was. At least my daughter was with her dad for a few days, so I didn’t have to worry about her well-being, but I did have to worry about Morgan.
I needed to get her out of the house pronto, but how in the hell was I going to pull that off?
Clive seemed oblivious to my internal monologue. “Like I said, we have other things to discuss. But business can wait. Let’s have small talk. Not enough people do that anymore.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” I scoffed. “Like you give a flying fig about the trivial details of my life.”
He clutched his chest, mocking me. “I would be offended if I was capable, I assure you.”
“I’m sorry, I forgot that your heart turned to stone more than two hundred years ago.”
“You think me a Monster, but I am not.” His trademark smile faltered just a little. “I can behave like a monster, as I’m sure you can under the right circumstance, but I am not the Devil Incarnate. Eventually, after more years have passed than you care to count, you’ll realize that you and I are not so different.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Clive’s cell phone buzzed in his shirt pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller I.D, “Will you excuse me? I have some business to attend to.”
I flicked my hand in his direction and stood. “Fine, I need to swap the laundry anyway.”
While he took the call, I scurried down the hall, grabbed some of clean towels from the linen cabinet and tossed them in the dryer to add a little bit of sound protection for the conversation I was about to have.
I gingerly turned the handle to Morgan’s bedroom and eased open the door. Even in the complete darkness I could make out her form sprawled across the bed. It’s a good thing she’s cute, because she slept like a lumberjack.
“Morgan,” I shook the foot of her bed, “Wake up. Morgan? Come on... get up!”
No response. I poked her in the arm, once, twice, before she roused.
She rolled over and cracked one eye open, squinting up at me. “What time is it?”
“Around three a.m. Clive is here with that bitch Vamp I ran into when I was out with Linc earlier. You need to get up and you need to leave. Now.”
She looked confused, and I realized that I hadn’t filler her in on all of that just yet.
After a brief hesitation, Morgan wasted no time in planting her feet on the floor. While she dressed, I threw some clothes into an overnight bag for her. “Take the car and go somewhere, anywhere, for a few days. Maybe Ocean City. Use that credit card I got you and lay low. I’ll call you when I know it’s safe.”
I pulled my car keys out of my back pocket and pushed them into her hands. “The car’s in the garage. Bitchy Vamp is outside somewhere, so get in the car, lock it and once the garage door is clear, haul ass. Don’t stop for anything. Got it?”
She gnawed on her bottom lip and nodded.
I kissed her on the forehead and hugged Morgan tight. “I’ll call you when the coast is clear. Go relax, get a massage, and do some shopping. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Just be careful. Clive’s one scary dude.” She attempted to smile, but I saw through her bravado. The trembling hands gave her away. But at least she cared about me again. So there’s that.
“I will. Now, give me a minute to distract him or something.”
“But how are you going to do that?” she started.
I interrupted her with a well-placed finger to her lips, “I’ll take him on a tour of the house, wait until you see us go into the basement.”
She nodded and I stepped back into the hallway. It sounded like Clive was still on the phone, so I made my way into the kitchen area and pulled down two wine glasses and a bottle of Electra Moscato. Since discovering it a few months back, I’d ordered a whole case—the stuff was that good, even to my undead taste buds.
I poured us each of glass and carried them into the living room. Clive disconnected the call just as I stopped in front of him, peace offering in hand.
“I’d say something about my mama raising me to be a better hostess, but that’d be a lie. So here... wine. Drink.” I flashed a sticky-sweet smile his way and hoped he bought it.
He took the wine and stood when it was obvious I had no intention of seating myself. At least I could count on his old-world manners to help a gal out in a pinch.
He sipped the wine, “This is pretty good. Who’s the maker?”
“A boutique vintner out of California. You’ve probably never heard of them. Technically, it’s a desert wine, but since I can’t eat my desserts anymore, I figured I could at least drink them.” I held up my glass in a mock-toast.
He clinked his glass with mine, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He wasn’t sure what I was up to, but it looked like he was going to play along, at least for the time being. That was good enough for me.
Clive nursed his wine and glanced around the living room, probably judging me on my lack of classical designs features. I bet he lived in a Masonic dungeon somewhere in the heart of America.
“How about a tour of my home? You’re my first blood-sucking guest, so I’d like to get your thoughts on what would make the house even better for my, uh, condition.”
“Of course, lead the way. I’m interested to see what you came up with, left to your own devices.” He said.
I wasn’t sure how to take that. Was he insulting my baby-vamp intelligence, or sincerely irked on my behalf that I’d had no one showing me the ropes all these months? Clive, as usual, was unreadable so I’d probably never know.
“Well, we can start here. If you’ll notice the inset light-blocking shades. I can rem
otely close them without ever entering the room and in the event of a power failure or something, there is a manual override.”
“Clever,” he said and looked up to the light fixtures. “And the lights?”
“Sunlight replicating bulbs. Those took some shopping around to find, but it helps me to feel like I’m living in a house, not a cave. You know?”
He nodded. “I do. Caves are a dark and depressing situation. I do not recommend them if you can help it.”
“O-kay. I’ll keep that in mind. Moving on... down the hall here is the laundry room, guest room, my office and the other two bedrooms. Nothing special to see there. They all have the same blinds and lighting.”
I pushed open my bedroom door. “My bedroom...”
Clive wandered over to my king size bed and gave the mattress a test bounce.
I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into my oasis. “This is my bathroom.”
His eyes grew wide as he took in the skylights, the elaborate stonework, the waterfall and soaking pool. “You did all of this?”
“Of course not. I had a contractor do all of the work. I just told him what I wanted and he made it happen. And then I ate him, of course.”
Clive’s mouth dropped open.
“Kidding. Who do you think I am... you?” I joked.
His jaw clenched at the insult.
I may have gone a little bit too far there. And for some stupid reason, I felt a little bad about that. Not something I wanted to consider, given my predicament.
“It has been said that an insult is just a mirror cast upon the speakers own dark shadows,” Clive’s expression had turned back into stone.
I didn’t care to examine the truth behind what he said, so I ignored him completely.
“All that’s left is the basement, this way,” I ushered him out of my haven, down the hall and to the basement door. I held the door open, “After you.”
He shook his head, “No, ladies first. I insist.”
There was no way that I was walking in front of him down a dark flight of stairs. He’d probably push me down for the sport of watching me trying to piece myself back together.
