by Rhea, Lani
The army had become his home for a bit. After his third or fourth tour, he’d decided not to re-up and moved on. During the years they served together, a secure friendship had bloomed between them and they’d stayed in touch all these years that followed. Funny how things could happen when jeopardy played with one’s life. As for her, she had only joined as a means to release the anguish of her parents’ deaths.
Past meets future. Soon she’d find out why Josh needed to speak with her.
She watched a blonde waitress wearing a pair of flashy gold booty shorts and a tight fitted black t-shirt. A fleur-de-lis decorated the middle of her well-endowed chest. A few men held money in their clenched fists. They hovered around a table and stepped aside as the woman approached. One slid his hand up the back side of her leg toward her rear. She gasped and stomped on the guy’s foot.
Kris smiled. The grabby man hopped over a few feet, allowing her to catch a glimpse of Josh. Her smile disappeared. “There you are,” she whispered.
He wore a poker face, calm and collected. She inhaled a deep breath of second-hand smoke and made her way to where he sat. Several quick strides later, she stared down at Josh. His gaze was focused on the big screen, his white-knuckled hands clenched around money.
He yelled at the television. “You better tackle his ass, Shanle.” His grayish hair, sprinkled with black throughout, bobbed with his excitement. Josh then turned in the seat. He smiled at her and kindness shone in his blue eyes.
Pure glamour.
The scent of sugar spice escaped his musky cologne. Even if she couldn’t view his true face, the magic hid there. The fae secret he never revealed to her or anyone else, as far as she understood. Often she wanted to ask would the real Josh Haskins please stand?
As if reading her mind, he stood. His small frame, plump in the center, expanded the tucked-in black shirt. Wrist length sleeves covered battle scars.
“All right, boys, the books are closed. I’ve got business to discuss with the lady.” He handed the money to a man who fit the bookie position look for the day. After Josh gestured toward an empty table with a Reserved sign in the back corner, she shuffled over. When some men, including Grabby, strayed too close for her comfort, she shot them a warning look.
Grabby picked up a longneck from the table and backed away with his hands in the air. Taking a swig of beer, he said, “You got a live one there, Josh.” He winked and strutted away with his chest puffed out.
She bared her teeth. About to give him a piece of her mind, she halted when Josh placed his hand in hers, then cleared her thoughts.
“Don’t, Kris. We already have enough on our hands.”
“Why do you associate with people like them?”
“Because I can tolerate beer and they can’t, which is good for me because I get their money and they go home empty handed.” An unrepentant grin danced on his lips.
True, she’d never witnessed a drunken fairy. Only fairy wine inebriated them. This left Josh sober to take advantage of the human weakness.
Fairies, like genies with their tricks, took what they wanted. To them, if a human played dumb enough with their games, the human deserved to lose. The fae never outright lied. They twisted the truth into a pretzel, until a person didn’t recognize come here from sic ’em.
She straightened the strap on her shoulder, bringing the gun closer. With a jerk of her chin at the leering drunk leaning against the wall, she took her seat at the table. Asshole.
Josh withdrew his hand from hers and sat in the corner. Kris scooted her chair next to him, to face the open room. She didn’t want her back turned to the man or the swinging doors. She didn’t trust anyone right now. With her DEFCON radar on total war readiness, flashing red, she watched everybody.
The fleur-de-lis clad waitress steered toward them carrying a platter filled with a mega meaty burger. Her handwritten nametag said Naomi, and she was built like a backwoods Barbie. Piles of fries surrounded Josh’s juicy meal. He unfolded his napkin and laid it with a soldier’s precision across his lap. Before he dug into the food, he looked at her. “Do you want anything to eat, Kris? Drink?”
“I’ll take a side order of alligator sushi and water.”
After the waitress left, he lowered his head over the mountain of food and spoke above a whisper. “I went to New Orleans last night.” He lifted his head a fraction, glancing around.
The way he spoke the words intensified the air around them. Shivers tickled her spine and goose bumps lifted on her skin.
Someone jarred a table. Silverware clanged as it slid from plates and clattered onto the peanut covered wood floor. After viewing the commotion, she scanned the room again. No one posed an obvious threat so she eased herself back a bit.
With her strung out nerves on hyper alert, her body expelled more heat than necessary. The silk shirt clung to her armpits. Damn it. Her throat dried. She hoped the waitress would hurry with the glass of water.
Josh cleared his throat. “I went to the Darkworld hangout called Club Fifteen, near the French Quarter.” He slipped a fry off the plate and shoved the golden cholesterol stick into his mouth. “This is a place I never would have imagined, Kris. The club wigged me out. I figured I could handle anything.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “Why did you go there in the first place?”
A few clients who’d escaped their bonds had mentioned Club Fifteen. People have to get marked in order to enter. Kris eyed his neck and saw no punctures. But marks could hide in other places.
“I’ve been working on a project that may be able to turn vampires back into humans. I figured, what better place to visit than the grand queen bee’s hive itself? I wanted to talk to a few of them, find out how they live and gain knowledge about who would be interested in turning back, if possible.”
“What?”
“You don’t understand what kind of place they run there. I mean, these vampires are nothing like people fantasize them to be. They’re primal and will take what they want if you’re not careful. I didn’t dare talk to a whole lot of them. After what I witnessed, I stopped.”
The information wasn’t news to her. She’d already had experiences with them. “Josh, what crossed your mind? Anybody at Club Fifteen wouldn’t be interested in being human again, even if it were possible. They get off on the power and the pain. I still can’t believe you went there. What did you see?” She could only imagine.
“I know, I know. I figured that out real quick.” He paused and inhaled. “I needed to go to the restroom, but took a wrong turn. The hall was dark and smelled funny. So I ran my fingers along the walls, searching for the door. The surface was wet and cold, almost fuzzy like mold but it wasn’t mold. I didn’t recognize it, and I didn’t want to find out either.”
Josh grabbed his beer and sipped. He cleared his throat and spoke low again. “I heard a scream. Stupidly, I decided to investigate.” He swiped a hand over his fresh-with-sweat forehead. “They had a guy tied up, Kris. Bloody horrible. He was spread-eagle on a large spinning wheel. As he whirled, they threw needle-like darts filled with glowing blue liquid at him. The fangers told him the liquid would give him a savory tang. It’s like they were prepping him for a Thanksgiving feast—a feast for vampires.”
Her lip curled. “What happened next?”
“I got the hell out of there. But, before I ran, another deep voiced fanger said the bastard on the wheel would be a great victim for the new vampires in the soon-to-come war with the werewolves. That’s when I left the club. That’s when I knew I had to contact you.”
Were vampires threatening a war with her kind? Ryant and the other vamps only mentioned Soulscapes. He wouldn’t let that happen. Would he? Her eyes narrowed. The subject would be mentioned later, no matter what.
Josh held another fry to his mouth, his hand still trembling. He must have been scared half to death with what he’d witnessed. She patted his hand. “It’s okay, Josh. I can’t stand them either. Do you still plan to help them?”
&n
bsp; “Oh yes. Helping to bring some back to humanity is my goal. Even more now. Maybe I’ll start a club for those who return to the living when it’s over. Learn some secrets.” A dangerous spark flared in his eyes. “Can you imagine the funds I could make and then have to fall back on? I’ve been busting my ass for years on this project and now here’s a chance for me to make the money I deserve.”
Was he trying to prove something his fae king, Oberon? Or to himself? Was this why he’d escaped the fairy world? That she could understand. She wanted nothing to do with her own Throne members.
But still, his attitude seemed off somehow. “You know you have a slim chance to none of coming out of this alive. I still can’t believe you went to Club Fifteen. You have to be marked before you enter. How did you get marked?” She grabbed his shirt collar, trying to peer underneath.
Josh shoved her hand away. “I’ll take my chances. The vampire that marked me is a new friend of mine who I trust.”
Yeah right, more like someone to gather information on the inside and give blood to in return. She recognized the kind, dealt with them on a daily basis. “You’re nuts.”
He shrugged then withdrew a wadded yellow paper from his pants pocket and rolled it across the tabletop.
“What’s this?” She stared at the scrunched ball.
“This was wedged between my door and doorframe this morning when I left for work.”
Curious, she snatched the paper and opened it. Two columns showed names. A single-lined message at the bottom read, These are new recruits.
“New recruits?” She read each name. One last name was familiar. Vanessa Adams. Could Vanessa Adams be kin to Stanley Adams?
“I assume a fanger I talked to last night wanted to brag about a crop of newly turned vampires. I think something is going on at that club and you’re the person to help me find out what it is.”
“I’m a bounty hunter, Josh, not a private investigator.”
He gave an Oh, what the hell look and bent forward. “Being a bounty hunter requires you to be able to find information on people so you can later find them. As long as you’ve been around…you’ve got the skills needed to investigate. You and I can distinguish the difference. The problem is, you don’t want to. Consider the poor, turned souls. Imagine saving the new batch plucked from the streets.” His lips pursed.
He’d hit the nail right on the head. She couldn’t let human souls be turned. Not if she had a chance of stopping it. Although she hadn’t investigated in years, she kept her license up-to-date. The thought of the unsuspecting humans on a hit list being turned, possibly without permission, boiled her blood. Why these people? What made them so special?
The waitress strolled over with a tray of food. With the water, she had a beer.
“I didn’t order a beer.” Confused, Kris looked at the woman.
“He did.” Naomi tilted her head to her right. “Compliments of the gentleman,” she said and choked on the last word.
Following the direction of the waitress’s nod, Kris locked gazes with her admirer. Grabby, the man who’d slid his hand up the waitress’s skirt, raised his beer. She stared at the asshole and slid the bottle over the tabletop. “Here Josh, your friend over there bought you a beer.”
The man pouted.
On the verge of showing him how much she didn’t like the attention, she stiffened when the two dark-eyed men from outside strode through the pub doors. A sense of foreboding shot through her. She grabbed her purse and opened it, pushed her badge away from the weapon and gripped the butt. The same malicious presence from outside crept along the wood floor. Evil hesitated, attempted to crawl up her bare ankle and pricked at her skin.
Her nostrils flared.
The wolf snarled, ready to pounce if they approached.
With a show of unconcern, she popped a gator sushi roll into her mouth. For once, she had no reservations about feeding the beast. She believed her wolf might come in handy. Watching the men, she waited for the slightest wrong movement. Her eyes twitched as the wolf’s vision sharpened.
Dark rings that once lined their eyes were now settled behind their lashes. Instead of irises, hollowed pits of pure ebony shone. The men headed straight for Grabby.
Before the two reached him, one of them stopped to stare at her. A wicked, cold smile twitched his lips. He extended a boney finger, motioning like she’d be next.
She pulled out her gun and placed the weapon on the table.
The urge to spring from the chair while shooting like in the Wild West days shivered through her, but she didn’t. She growled beneath her breath and the wolf in her crept closer to the surface.
5
The first of the two holey t-shirt men stopped staring and continued creeping toward Grabby. The other remained stone still. His skin wasn’t normal but was pasty, like a day walker, a zombie day walker. She couldn’t be certain.
As she sniffed the air, the scent of charcoal escaped from both men. As far as she knew, the only things that gave off that specific odor were Soulscapes. But they couldn’t be. The men were made of flesh. Not stone. Soulscapes dwelled in cement and stone. They did not overtake bodies. This couldn’t be right.
“What’s wrong, Kris?”
“Something’s not right, Josh. Those two men…” She lifted her chin at the entrance then froze. They were gone. Grabby had disappeared as well. As she scanned the room, she gripped the butt of her gun. “Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“Those two guys and your friend. Near the entrance.”
He looked that direction. “What two guys? There are a lot of men in here, Kris. It’s a game day. You gotta be more specific. You’re not going to find anything but men watching football. My friend walked out of here because I’m sure you scared the shit out of him.”
“You didn’t see those two men wearing holey white t-shirts and cut offs?”
“No. You okay?”
“I’m going crazy. First, vampires are visiting my office, my home, and now I’m seeing men with blank eyes.” She picked up her glass and gulped the water then glanced at Josh, who looked confused or surprised. She couldn’t read his expression. With no immediate threat, she tucked the gun inside her purse.
“Vampires have been visiting you?” His tone lowered to a whisper.
As she placed the glass on the table, she ignored his question and stared off into the room, not seeing anything in particular. She wanted to believe Ryant had joked with her, but now reality struck. It would be nice for the Soulscapes deal to only be a rumor, a clever way to lure her back into his arms.
Now it was doubtful. Hell, he might even be involved in creating a war; a war everyone else had tabs on except her. Damn, damn and double damn. Frustrated, she slid her fingers through her hair, caressing the aching throb in the middle of her forehead.
Might as well finish refueling. She suspected she was going to need it. Shoving the last bite of alligator sushi into her mouth, she ran through a plan of action. Contact Ryant and find out what information he had. But before that, she needed to haul ass to her office and research. The best place to start was with the list of names Josh provided.
“You didn’t tell me about the vampires.” He frowned and shoved another fry inside his mouth.
She looked at him blankly for a moment. Giving him the digest version, she explained her visit from Ryant.
“Got any ideas?” he asked when she was done.
“Yeah. You could say that.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“No. I’ll fill you in on what I find.”
Josh nodded and continued to eat. She studied the list of names on the crumpled paper. The coincidence between the Stanley Adams Ryant wanted to her fine and the Vanessa Adams on the list was enough for her to look into.
When Josh was done, he paid for the meal and walked her out to her car. She didn’t notice the two dark eyed creatures lingering outside. The charcoal odor had vanished. Nothing stood out from the normal pub odors of
alcohol, smoke and greasy food.
With the scent gone, she had no other proof they’d even been there. She breathed a small sigh of relief.
“Kris, I know you can do this. Let me know if you find anything.”
Without committing to anything, she left Josh and the gator bayou themed pub and drove the two hours back to her office. The entire ride, thoughts of the possible war, Soulscapes and Vanessa and Stanley Adams weighed on her.
After she pulled into the parking lot in front of her office building, Kris stopped, got out and ambled to the front door. Out of the comfort of the air-conditioned vehicle, the hellish heat caused sweat to trickle down her spine.
She unlocked the office door and entered. Her shoulders stayed tense, a slight throbbing under the skin. She dropped her purse on the desk and pulled out the holster. Strapping the leather securely around her body, she positioned the .40 into its snug pocket then switched on the laptop before heading to the empty secretary’s desk to check voicemails. It was past time to put up a Now Hiring sign.
Kris snatched a pencil and paper from the top drawer and pressed play. A couple messages were from a sheriff’s department a few parishes over requesting assistance. There were a few from personal clients and one from Ryant inquiring if she’d changed her mind about Stanley. Well, at the moment she had, but she couldn’t talk to him about what she had learned until she knew more.
She scratched through the jotted message from Ryant and deleted the voicemails. He needed to back off. Kris knew she had to talk him. But it would have to be later. When her computer finished booting, her speakers chimed with new emails.
She hurried to check and saw two from Ryant, which she immediately deleted. Settling back in her chair, she drummed her fingers on the armrest. Vanessa Adams had to have a connection with Stanley. Maybe she’d find a lead in the Louisiana’s main criminal database. Vanessa didn’t sound like a criminal. But then, neither had Ted Bundy. With some luck, maybe Ms. Adams would show in the system, and Kris could solve this quickly and move on.
