Grave Hauntings: Where Sexy and Sinful Meets Dark and Chilling

by Parkerson, Charity

  “Well damn, I’m glad to see you, Brick,” she said with a mischievous smile. “You’ve haven’t been around in a while and I was beginning to worry if something bad had happened to you. I heard through the grapevine you’d taken another bounty from the Alliance.”

  An androgynous looking young man with bright blue eyes and slicked back hair poked his head out of the kitchen. “Momma, that pick up order for Jones is ready.” He appeared to be on the cusp of twenty, so I guess he was legal.

  Momma batted her eyelashes at her youthful lover. “Thank you, Jean-Luc. Brick wants a double rack of beef ribs with double sides. Be a dear and get it ready for him.”

  “Yes Ma’am, right away.”

  She turned back to me and said, “Jean-Luc is such a sweet-pie. Now, you gorgeous hunk of a man, tell me about the hunt.” She paused and looked to make sure no one was paying us any attention. “Did you bring him in dead or alive?”

  I did freelance bounty hunting for the Alliance of Supernatural Beings (ASB). The Alliance did it’s best to maintain a fragile peace between the human populace and the growing number of supernatural beings coming out of the closet every day. When a shape shifter, vampire or some other supernatural being started doing stupid shit, like killing civilians, what we called humans, the Alliance was quick to respond.

  The Final Death Givers were the Alliance’s enforcement arm and they dealt severely with wayward miscreants, but sometimes they found it expedient to offer a reward. Hence enterprising freelancers like me. I didn’t think of myself as a bounty hunter, I preferred the term independent contractor.

  “The hunt went well, I worked with Leila. She sub-contracted me as her back-up. The perv we were tracking had a thing for slender women with pretty faces, so we used Leila as bait. To answer your question, we brought the rabid werewolf in dead. I dropped him with silver bullets in both his knees. Then I watched as Leila carved him up with those custom Kukri Knives of hers, before she ripped his heart out with her hand. He won’t be raping and torturing any more young girls.”

  Momma’s eyes grew wide and she licked her lips. The thought of violence excited her. Jean-Luc and the rest of Momma’s virile harem were in for a treat later tonight.

  “Hmm. You shot him, “she said. “That means you didn’t…?”

  “No Momma, I didn’t shift. Leila did, but I didn’t.”

  I had once again resisted shifting into my were-tiger form during the hunt and my reluctance to shift had almost cost Leila her life. I hated the beast inside me and I fought the urge to change on a daily basis. My issue with changing was common knowledge in the shapeshifter community. Momma and others thought I was nuts to deny my true nature and reject such a major part of who I am. They didn’t understand my reasons and I didn’t feel compelled to explain.

  “I see,” Momma said. “Ok, well…how is Leila doing? I haven’t seen that sexy shapeshifter in quite some time.”

  Momma swung both ways and she wasn’t quite as hung up on age when it came to women. She’s been trying to get into Leila’s pants for years.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Oh hell yes she is,” Momma enthused.

  “Do I have any messages?” I asked, changing the subject. I was so not going to discuss Leila’s business. Leila was a she-wolf with a bad attitude. She’d rip my heart out.

  “Hold on, let me check. I think one of the guys said something about an envelope for you.” She ducked her head under the counter and I could hear paper shuffling.

  I didn’t have an office, so I used Momma’s place as a dead drop for messages from would-be customers. There was a mail slot in the back door that you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for the opening. I didn’t trust post office boxes and I didn’t give out my personal address to anyone but a select few. I also rotated burner phones regularly, again only giving the new number to a select few. Bounty hunting is a precarious business.

  Momma stood up and handed me a plain, white envelope. “Here you go.”

  The envelope was the no-see-through security type. My name was on the front and I could feel something inside in the envelope, the contents felt like a card. I flipped the envelope over and what I saw caused the small hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. The envelope had been sealed with an emblem I knew all too well. The seal was the stenciled crest of a heart, a heart that had been pierced clear through, but not by cupid’s arrow. A silver dagger had pierced this heart and a trail of blood drops dripped from the mortally wounded organ. This was the emblem of the Final Death Givers.

  Momma saw the emblem too. “Another hunt?”

  I bent down and stuffed the envelope in my backpack. “Probably, but I’m not going to think about another hunt now. I haven’t slept in almost forty-eight hours. I’m dead tired and I’m hungry.” Right on cue, Jean-Luc came out of the kitchen carrying a large bag reeking of goodness.

  Jean-Luc sat the bag on the counter. “Mr. Brick, I put a couple of containers of extra sauce in the bag and plenty of wet wipes.” He paused and stole a quick look at Momma. She was smiling with pride. Momma the Dominatrix trained her staff to be courteous. “I grilled these ribs myself, I hope you like them.”

  I wanted to pat him on the head like a good pet. “Thank you Jean-Luc, I’m sure they’ll be delicious.”

  “You’re welcome Sir.” He turned and headed back to the kitchen and I’ll be damn if he didn’t wiggle his hips just a bit.

  “How much do I owe you Momma?”

  Momma had been watching Jean-Luc’s ass and she almost didn’t hear me. “Don’t worry about paying me, honey.” She winked at me. “I’ll take it out in trade later. You just take care of yourself.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, Momma. Ok, I’m out of here. I’ll catch you later.”

  Chapter Four

  “Good evening Mrs. Kravitz,” I said. “What are you doing out so late?”

  I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to see my nosey neighbor sitting in her rocking chair on the front porch of my three story brownstone. I checked my watch. The witching hour was just minutes away. I looked closer and spotted the broom in her lap partly hidden under a quilt. Of course she was up and about.

  “Good evening Mr. Mason,” she said in a flat voice. “What’s that I smell?”

  “Barbeque ribs from Momma’s Rib Shack.”

  She made a decidedly un-lady like sound. “I see. I wouldn’t eat anything that immoral were-slut cooked. Who knows what she puts in the food.”

  I groaned. “I completely understand, but I like to live dangerously.”

  “So you do, so you do.”

  I unlocked the door leading up to my unit on the third floor. “Goodnight, Mrs. Kravitz. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  She mumbled something under her breath I couldn’t quite make out, then she said clearly, “Goodnight, Mr. Mason.”

  ***

  “Brick, wake up and invite me in.”

  The voice was melodious and low. It pierced my sleeping brain and danger jabbed me between the shoulder blades. The faint scent of vampire ticked my nose and I was wide awake. I rolled out of bed in a crouch. The cold comfort of my 9mm Glock filled my hand faster than human eyes could follow.

  I’d wolfed down my food in record time. Even though I rarely changed into my were-tiger form, I still have a shapeshifter’s metabolism. I could consume a boatload of calories and not add an ounce pound to my 225lbs frame. The food was delicious and I’d made a mental note to tell Momma her boy-toy had done good. A quick shower and I’d plopped in the bed less than an hour after I’d walked in the door.

  “Brick, I am at your back door,” the voice whispered in my head.

  Silently I padded on the balls of my feet to the back of my apartment, the Glock at the ready. I’d left the curtain on the window in the backdoor pulled back and a pair of glowing amber eyes stared at me. I fought the impulse to double tap two rounds between those eyes. If they’d been blood red, I would have fired.

  I flippe
d the light switch and the floodlights I’d installed lit up my back patio like a Christmas tree. The sudden glare caused both of us to blink and then I locked eyes with Serena, High Priestess of the Final Death Givers. Oh fuck, this was not good.

  I lowered my weapon, unlocked and opened the door, knowing she couldn’t cross the threshold without my invitation. “What do you want? Do you have any fucking idea what time it is? I was trying to sleep.”

  Her eyes had changed to their normal chestnut color. Despite the pained expression on her face, she was just as beautiful as I remembered. Her porcelain skin was flawless and looked soft as falling snow. Her jet black hair draped the shoulders of her customary long black trench coat. She was clad in a black leather cat-suit that left no doubt there was a curvaceous woman underneath. Black boots with three inch heels rounded out her outfit.

  She smiled. “Hi Brick. How are you? I’m glad to see you too. I’d have come by sooner, but I had to wait for the old witch on the first floor to fly off. What happened to the basic human pleasantries?”

  I growled. “I’m not human and neither are you. Besides, you don’t make house calls...unless you’re looking to kill something and I don’t invite vampires into my house. Which reminds me, how did you find me?” Shit, the envelope I stuck in my bag. “You left the envelope for me at Momma’s so you could find me?”

  “Is that a question or a statement?”

  “Smartass. Ok, you have thirty seconds to tell me what you want or I’m closing this door and going back to bed.” The smile faded from her face and I was glad she dropped the sweetness and light routine, because she was just too freaking hot when she smiled.

  “Have you heard about the massacre in a Boston bar?” She asked.

  “No, I’ve been on an Alliance sanctioned hunt and I’ve kind of been out of the loop.”

  “Even if you’d been around, you probably wouldn’t have heard the true story. The Alliance and the local authorities have covered up what actually happened by blaming the deaths on a gas leak. Only a few people in high levels know vampires committed the atrocity.”

  I frowned. “Okay, it was vamps, so what? I can’t believe you came to Chicago and to my home in the dead of night to offer me a bounty to track down some rogue vamps. You could have done that through the normal channels.”

  “Victor is dead,” she said simply.

  I had a delayed reaction and then my mouth dropped open. “That means…”

  She cut me off. “Yes, it means Aline and Meri must have killed him and the bat-shit crazy bitches are on the loose. I’ve been tracking them since they escaped Victor’s lair, but they’ve stayed one step ahead of me. I got to the bar in Boston just after they left. They drained six civilian men in that bar. I trailed them here to Chicago. I think they’re coming after you because you’re the one who captured them and turned them over to the Alliance the last time they went on a killing spree.”

  The grip of the gun in my hand cracked under the pressure as I unconsciously squeezed it too hard. The popping sound snapped me back to reality.

  “Come in Serena. I invite you into my home. Close the door behind you.”

  I turned and walked away as a torrent of conflicting emotions battered my mind. Once upon a time I had loved Aline, before Victor turned her into a vamp and she became the self-proclaimed Mistress of Pain & Illusions.

  Chapter Five

  “I take your reaction to mean neither Aline or Meri have tried to get in touch with you,” Serena called to his retreating broad back.

  Brick didn’t respond, just kept walking. He moved with the grace of a beast of prey and barely restrained aggression oozed from his pores.

  She stepped over the threshold into his home and closed the door as he requested. Serena lost sight of him when he turned a corner. She stood in his kitchen and pondered what to do next. He did invite her into his home, but maybe he only wanted to kill her inside for some unknown reason. Vampires and shapeshifters had been mortal enemies for centuries. Sure, she’d successfully worked with Brick in the past and they had a mutual attraction, but he was still a shapeshifter, even if he fought his true nature.

  If Serena could’ve breathed, she would have drawn a deep breath before following him. Instead, she trusted her instinct and proceeded down the long narrow hallway. She found him sitting on a white, leather couch in the living room with a haunted look on his face and the gun still in his hand. For the first time since she arrived, she took notice of his appearance. He wore only a pair of old sweatpants and his muscular upper torso was bare. He looked up when she entered the room.

  “Sit over there where I can keep an eye on you,” he said and pointed to a recliner directly across from the couch.

  She sat down with both her hands in the pockets of her coat. “Brick…”

  He raised a hand, the one not holding the gun. “Wait, stop. For reasons I never quite understood, instead of sentencing Aline and Meri to a final death, which was a fate they richly deserved. The Alliance, in all its infinite wisdom, decided to turn them over to Victor, a sadistic pervert with delusions of grandeur.”

  “Brick, the council had its reasons.”

  He shot her an evil look. “I wish you’d stop interrupting me. I’m pissed and I’m venting. Ok, so yes…he was a Master Vamp, but Aline and Meri are incredibly powerful together. They feed off each other somehow. I’m not surprised they managed to overpower him. Now Victor, one of the Elders, is the one who suffered the final death and those two soul sucking nutcases are running around killing civilians. To make matters worse, you tell me they’ve come to my town. What a clusterfuck. Were there any survivors in Boston?”

  Serena wanted to argue, but she knew he was right. He had a commanding yet approachable presence about him that made her want to yield to whatever he said. The white leather couch was such striking contrast to his dark chocolate countenance. His body rippled with muscle and she couldn’t help staring at the exotic tattoos covering his chiseled chest. Sitting this close to him was having an unexpected effect on her. A surge of hunger flared up in her with a rush of sexual energy. The same thing happened the previous times they’d worked together, she just wanted to lick him from head to toe and take a bite out of him.

  “May I speak now?”

  “Sure, knock yourself out.”

  Serena gritted her teeth. “Yes, there were two survivors. I’ve heard they’re going to live. Thankfully, they can’t remember what happened, a handy side effect of Aline’s mind-fuck. I totally agree with you, the Council made a huge mistake.”

  “You mean Mykael made a mistake,” Brick corrected.

  Mykael Korvine was the head of the Alliance council. He effectively made all the major decisions. Mykael was the glue holding the Alliance together. His leadership was responsible for keeping the vamps and shapeshifters from engaging in an all-out war against each other that would certainly result in civilian casualties. Killing humans, even as collateral damage, could ignite a war between humans and supernaturals that would lead to the destruction of both species. Mykael and Serena were also lovers.

  Serena sighed. “Yes, Mykael made a mistake. As you would expect, there were politics involved. He still needed Victor’s support on the council and since he turned them, Victor wanted to have Aline and Meri as his playthings.”

  “You mean his fucktoys.”

  “Victor had certain…needs that Aline and Meri were ideally suited to satisfy, so Mykael turned them over to Victor’s custody. Now I have to clean up the mess and I need your help.”

  Brick pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m too tired to think straight. What do you want?”

  Serena was in a precarious position, but she had nowhere else to go. She’d been so engrossed following Aline’s and Meri’s trail, she’d lost track of time. Now she needed a safe place to spend the daylight hours. There were very few people, human or otherwise she trusted and Brick happened to be one of them.

  “In light of what happened in Boston, plus the final deat
h of a Master Vampire at their hands, the Alliance has decreed Aline and Meri are to be executed. I want you to help me track them down and I…I need a place to stay during the day.”

  Brick ran a hand through his closed cropped hair and then looked at his watch. “Daybreak is just about two hours away. Do you have a backup plan?”

  “No, not really. I suppose I’d rest in the trunk of my car.”

  Brick placed the gun on the couch beside him and sat with his legs spread apart, both hands resting lightly on each knee. He leaned toward her, his honey brown eyes smoky with a promise of carnal delights and rough sex. He stared at her with a predator’s intensity. The look in his eyes had turned feral and she half expected him to shape shift at any moment. If he did change, she doubted she would survive in such an enclosed space. He’d rip her to shreds.

  Her eyes drifted down his torso and stopped at the juncture between his legs. A huge lump trailed partly down his thigh and she bit her lip when his erection rose and fell. She flipped the safeties off the guns she gripped in the pockets of her coat. The click of the safeties was soft, but Brick must have heard the sound, because he tilted his head in that peculiar way animals do when they’re listening to something.

  He smiled and his eyes returned to normal. “I assume you know of the twenty-one foot rule?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Well, that rule applies to claws too. The distance between us is about fifteen feet. You’d never get off a shot.”

  “Maybe, but I have to try.”

  He inhaled sharply and yawned. “The blackout curtains in my bedroom are sun proof. Don’t ask. You can stay. I’ll sleep on the couch. Can I trust you not to feed on me in my sleep?”