Hell's Chapel (Shapeshifter Urban Fantasy) (Caith Morningstar Book 1)
Page 14
She focused on the non-descript human. He was brown from head to toe. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown clothing…
“Who are you? Who sent you?” When he didn’t immediately answer, she squeezed harder, cutting off his air until his face turned a bright purple-red. “Who are you? Who sent you?”
She relaxed her grip enough to let him drag in a harsh breath. He panted, fighting for air, but he didn’t answer her question. So, she repeated the process. Squeeze, question, release. It took three tries, her tightening lasting longer and longer each time, before he finally answered.
“Nobody. I was paid to take some pictures.”
“Uh-huh.” She did it again. Now her wolf was in on the fun, enjoying the various colors of the man’s face. He scented like that cabbie, a friend? Was this his “cousin”? There was also a hint of Tori.
Her wolf didn’t give a damn about the scents. It wondered if she’d let the human go so they could hunt him down as a wolf.
No.
It pouted.
“Try again.”
“I-I-I swear.”
“Caith?” Sam interrupted. “I think he’s telling the truth,” he murmured.
She turned her attention to him, spying the camera in his hand. The whole camera.
“I told you to destroy that,” she snapped.
“Won’t…” The human gasped for air. “Matter.”
Caith glared at the man beneath her. “What do you mean?”
“It was connected to my phone. Every picture got sent to the cloud.”
“Fuck.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The human smiled at her, his eyes filled with joy at ruining her plan.
She took a soothing breath, fighting her wolf back into its cage. She couldn’t think about killing the guy now. She had to fix her growing problem. Fast.
“What the hell is going on?” Sam again. “The cloud?”
“You cannot be that behind the times.” She shook her head. “Watch him. Don’t let him get away.”
“I really think—”
“No.” She held up her hand. “I have no problem with you being a part of my life, Sam. There are hardly any areas where we’ll really bump heads. But this is one of those times where I need you to let me do my job.” Time was of the essence. “So, give me your phone and the camera. Watch him while I make a few calls and we can leave once I have my people on it.”
“Hey, I don’t know anything. I didn’t see anything, really,” the human pleaded, but Caith didn’t give a damn.
“As an FYI, On High doesn’t like liars, so stopping right now would be a good idea,” she dryly drawled. “Sam?”
Still obviously confused, he did as asked and moved to stand over the human while she stepped away. Sure that the prisoner was secured, Caith went into action with the phone. A few button pushes had her call going through.
“Hey, Jezze, can you call Manon and Drek?”
“Uh, Caith?” Jezebeth sounded unsure, but she didn’t have time.
“Yeah, one of the neuts stumbled across me and Sam and I got a little hot. Pics were sent to the cloud, Jezze. So I need you to find them while Manon and Drek interrogate the piece of shit.” She glared at the asshole who’d ruined her evening.
“You sure it’s a good idea to get a vamp near a human? I mean, Drek is threatening enough with his muscles.” Caith didn’t miss Edzard’s muffled shout. “But a vamp…”
“Manon is under control.” Now, anyway. “And we could use her ability to capture the guy’s mind.” Caith’s heart still raced and she fought for control. She did not like being second-guessed. “I need it done now, Jezze. I don’t have their numbers with me.”
“Right, right. One minute will get them there. Do you know what storage site he’s using?”
Caith glanced at the cracked camera. “No. Once Manon gets here, I’ll send her to your place with the camera.”
Jezebeth’s objection sprung to her lips. “Mom’s not gonna let a vamp in the house. Especially not that one.”
A vampire kills an entire village one time…
“Fine. But I need this done, Jezze. Now.”
Without waiting for confirmation, Caith ended the call and turned back to the man whose body she craved. Then she looked at the male whose blood she’d love to bathe in.
“What’s going on? What are we doing?” Sam pounced on her the second the call ended.
“Now, we wait.”
Chapter Fourteen
By the time they returned to Momma R’s, Caith was beyond exhausted. The events of the last couple of days were finally creeping up on her, the stress of attempted assassinations coupled with the “Sam Drama Llama” had her running on fumes. She was ready to crumble and all she craved at this point was a bed. Not even a full bed. A pile of random blankets would work.
Quiet reigned during their drive from the bar to Momma R’s place. For Caith, it was because she was rolling the encounter with the human through her mind. On Sam’s… she was sure it was something along the lines of “what the fucking fuck?”
She couldn’t exactly blame him.
The car rolled to a gentle stop in front of the house and Caith blindly reached for the handle. “Thanks for tonight, Sam. It was…” She glanced at him, fighting for a smile that refused to appear. “It was interesting.”
“Caith…”
She ignored him and stepped from the vehicle, bending down to peer at him through the open doorway. “I’ll see you when I see you, right?”
She couldn’t make promises. Her wolf howled at her for walking away, but her heart couldn’t take any more battering and bruising. If it happened, it happened. But after the encounter with the human, she didn’t have high hopes.
Caith stepped back and nudged the door closed before turning toward the house. Shower, sleep. Hell, the shower was negotiable.
The scents of sweetness and sulfur filled her nose a split-second before Sam appeared before her. He was all blazing eyes, midnight hair, and muscular male and it had her body yearning for his touch.
“Dammit. Wait a second,” he growled.
“It’s fine. Tonight obviously wasn’t our night and if you want to try again later, we can. If not,” she swallowed past the lump in her throat. If not, it’ll kill me. “Then we won’t. Simple as that.”
Sam cupped her face, holding her head steady as he glared at her. “Nothing with you is simple.”
Caith wrapped her fingers around his wrist, fingers pressed against his pulse point. “Nothing worth having is simple.”
The world was so basic and yet confusing at the same time.
“So, what? You’re just gonna walk away now?”
She let her eyes drift closed, shutting him out of her mind. “I’m not walking away. I’m crawling on hands and knees, and begging my wolf to understand. You were disgusted when you heard my plans, Sam. Don’t pretend you weren’t. And that’s fine.” She pressed her lips together and took a soothing breath. “It’s fine. You’re a gel. You have one job for On High with strict instructions and rules and… you’re a good guy. In the tween, things are more fluid. My word is law in this town and I… I am not always a good person.”
Caith begged her beast to play along. “So, I’m gonna go inside, strip down and step into the shower and pray the noise blocks out the sound of you leaving. If that doesn’t work, I’ll shift and go for a run.” Forcing her eyes open, she met his intent gaze. “But regardless of what I do in the next five minutes, your action remains the same. You’re gonna go and maybe you’ll think about tonight and decide if you still wanna come by the bar sometime and have a drink or talk or… something.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you when I see you, Sam.”
His voice was hoarse and rough when he finally spoke. “I don’t want this to be goodbye, Caith.”
“It’s not. It’s a see ya when I see ya. Maybe that’s tomorrow. Maybe it’s two weeks from now.” She shrugged. “You kno
w how I feel. You just need to figure out if you can deal with all parts of me.”
Caith couldn’t resist one last touch, one caress of skin on skin that’d last her until Sam made some decisions of his own. She reached for him, fingers hovering over his mouth before she finally rubbed the pad of a single digit along the soft, smooth flesh. “Goodnight, Sam.”
He didn’t try to stop her when she padded around him and toward the house. No, he didn’t stop her, but he didn’t leave either. There was no telltale crunch of feet on gravel or the roar of the car’s engine. Nope, the only sound that reached her was the rustle of the wind in the trees. There was a soft splash from behind the house, more than the flow of the river, and it told her Francois was hanging around with his ladies.
At least Franky would have a good night.
Momma R’s magic flowed over her with a gentle stroke, but she knew any visitors—attackers—would be fried the moment they touched the invisible barrier. When Jezebeth finally convinced her to stay with them, it’d been with the clear understanding that Momma R would pull out all the stops. There would be no warning shot across the bow. If it wasn’t meant to be on her land, it was dead. The only current exceptions were Sam and Caith’s fathers.
Her heels clicked and clacked over the worn wood of the porch and the screen door squealed when she tugged it open. Hell, even the front door taunted her with a low, mournful grind.
Sam still hadn’t left.
She carefully closed the panel with a low thud, trying to minimize the sound that echoed through the house. She shouldn’t have bothered, trying to keep quiet. The entryway had a straight line of sight to the kitchen and it was easy to see Jezebeth cradling a cup of coffee as she sat at the counter. Beside her was another steaming cup of the bitter brew.
Not bothering to strip off her shoes and get comfortable, she clomped down the hall toward her best friend. The moment she was within range, Jezze held out a hot mug and Caith gave her a grateful smile. She sank onto a barstool and propped her elbows on the table, staring at the random pattern of the granite countertop.
Seconds ticked past, neither of them saying a word and simply sipping their drinks. One minute turned into two which turned into five and finally Jezze spoke.
“Wanna tell me about it?”
Caith snorted. “Not much to tell. Wanna tell me about that human?”
“Not much to tell. Yet. Manon and Drek are doing their things. Secretly, I think they’re also doing each other on the down low, but not my bidness.”
She tipped the cup back and swallowed some of the burning liquid, enjoying the scorching heat. “You always make it your business.”
“True. In the spirit of nosiness, what happened?”
“The human, mostly.” She shrugged and took another hot mouthful, swallowing it down and letting the scalding warmth soothe her hellfire. “We didn’t talk about it, but essentially, I’m me and he’s him. Devil horns versus wings and he’s still enjoying the ability to fly, huh?” Caith gave her a rueful grin and then drained the mug, thumping it down on the counter once it was drained. “See you in the morning. I gotta go in early and call in some new brownies since Dead Nettle and his crew aren’t keen on working right now. I want my house cleaned and the bar spotless and I’ve got a shit ton of paperwork to get through.”
“What about Sam?”
“Sam is gonna do what he’s gonna do, but life doesn’t stop for cocky, demanding, overpowering, sexy as fuck…” Caith cleared her throat and ignored the sudden warmth in her cheeks. “Life doesn’t stop just because someone has a bad day.”
She left her friend to her late night caffeine and headed toward the stairs. Now that the steaming drink had calmed her frayed nerves, Caith was careful as she headed upstairs and toward her room. Momma R was sleeping and no one wanted to wake that wicked witch.
“I heard that,” the words were teasing, but they were also Momma R’s which had Caith jumping with a squeak and spinning toward the source.
Her surrogate mother was framed in her open doorway, the moonlight bathing her in an ethereal glow. She looked sweet as pie, but Caith knew the woman would destroy a city block because of a paper cut. That had been a fun experience in the 1700s.
Momma R sniffed. “It wasn’t just a paper cut.”
She grinned. “Sorry I woke you. I’m just gonna shower and head to bed.”
The witch padded toward her, bare feet silent on the polished wood. She wrapped her arms around Caith, urging her to rest her head on Momma R’s shoulder. “I didn’t expect you to return. Want to talk about it?”
“No,” she mumbled and returned the witch’s hug.
Delicate hands stroked her back and Momma R released a low, haunting hum that always relaxed Caith. It was a song older than time, she said. One that could calm even the angriest demon. Including her Uncle Luc. Caith didn’t wanna know how Momma R knew that fact.
“It’ll all look better in the morning, little demon.”
She snorted. “Right. Because I will suddenly have my brownies back and green-eyed monsters are going on a vacay and then the human asshole will cease to be a problem. Wait, then the pics of me getting my flame on will disappear from the cloud.” She sighed and eased away from Momma R. “Sorry, I’m a little ragefire-y right now. I’ll shower—”
“Take a bath. The new tub can endure a bit of your hellfire. You know it would relax you.”
She nodded. “Okay, bathe and then tomorrow figure out what else could possibly go wrong.”
“Well, I have solved one of your issues.” Momma R smiled.
“You murdered the human?” She was hopeful.
That had the witch laughing. “No, your father, Percival made me promise to cut back on killing.” That had her releasing a longsuffering sigh. “But I have obtained brownies for your home and bar. Blooming Aster and her family are already in residence and putting things to rights. You can return home tomorrow.”
Caith wrinkled her nose. “I overstayed my welcome, huh?”
“No, little demon.” Momma R cupped her cheeks. “Never. But you are an independent soul, much like your family. You require your own space or else you lose your temper and I like this house. Now, go relax and I will see you in the morning. I am making you pancakes.”
“Angel ones?”
Momma R rolled her eyes. “Yes, angels so you can pluck off their wings. Now, go.”
Momma R nudged her toward the end of the hallway and Caith went. At least some of her problems were resolved. A long bath, a good night’s sleep, and all would be better in the morning.
Or she’d turn the whole town to ash and start over.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning was a little better—courtesy of a contrite Ellery doing the dirty work at the bar—and the night ended with her snug in her own home, Momma R’s wards in place and everything sparkling like new.
Blooming Aster and her family were gods and goddesses on Earth. All signs of black goo and entrails were banished, and her furniture was back in shape. Even better, Blooming’s mother, Wilting Bluebell, agreed to be Caith’s housekeeper. The woman was nearing six hundred and she was tired of long nights. She loved her job, don’t get her wrong, but her joints preferred warm days over chilly nights.
Caith did not give a flying fuck. She let the brownies take over her home which left her with one less thing to worry about. As far as she was concerned, it was their house as long as they left her space to store her weapons and sleep.
The bar was the same. Brownies invaded. Invaded.
And Caith had never been happier. At least, that’s what she told herself.
She said that the first day when she found Bergamot behind the bar, pouring drinks to newcomers. The mixed tweener loved his brownie heritage, but the man was six feet tall and menacing as hell thanks to his demon dad. He wasn’t exactly built for fast as hell late night cleaning. She’d merely shrugged and had him fill out new hire paperwork.
She decided to adopt them all and never let them go. Ever. But not in a “you’re captive” kind of way. Because that would be creepy. And wrong.
Then again, she was the devil’s niece. She could probably get away with it. But she didn’t and on the thirteenth day of pretending to be deliriously happy with her Sam-less life, shit got real.
Heh, it was even Friday the thirteenth. Party day for the dems, gels, and tweeners. Her bar was always hopping as were the rest of the town’s vacationers. Well, the non-human half, anyway. Her patrons always packed Hell’s Chapel as if it were Mardi Gras. The road was filled with her people, Orlando residents and visitors always putting the partyers’ strange appearances on the local mouse’s parks.
Which was fine with her and everyone else. It let them rock out with their fangs out.
And normally, she was in the middle of it with them, stomping on the bar, raising her glass and tossing back a shot. The alcohol turned to vapor before it hit her stomach, so it meant a night of swigging liquor with ease. But tonight… She just wasn’t feeling her normal joy.
Instead, she stayed behind the counter, ignoring Jezebeth flirting with customers and the way Edzard glared at any male who got too close to the witch. She also ignored the women who slipped Bergamot their numbers. Let him get his fuck on as long as it wasn’t in her back room.
The cluster fuck of her life didn’t involve those three directly. At the moment, it included one belligerent, dumb ass, fuck hole of a human. Apparently, Tori grew a set of brass ovaries since Caith’s date with Sam because there she was, pushing her way past a thelac demon that had to be at least a millennia old and then some. Ooh, there went a troll stumbling into a goblin. Caith flicked her attention to the door and then back to the impending fight. Her staff went into motion, wading through the chaos Tori caused. She’d deal with how the woman managed to sneak in later.