“Contracts exist in many forms…even on paper.”
This was getting stranger by the second. He’d forced her to promise not to ask, but she had a whole lot of questions she was dying to know the answers to. Whatever he’d seen out there, it’d spooked him into action, and if a guy like Hardy was wigged out, then she ought to be terrified.
“What did you see out there?” she demanded. “Who was—”
“A bunch of blokes preparing to drill a hole.”
“Hardy. You were gone all day and night.” She didn’t like his silence, so she continued to argue, “Hardy, if you know something, y—”
“There’s nothing you should know,” the vampire interrupted.
“Of course, there is!” she cried. “You just signed your shop over to me! Who the hell does that?”
“Semantics of being immortal.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“More fool me trying to trick a spirit elemental,” he murmured. He pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his seat.
He looked exhausted. Eloise didn’t know vampires could tire, but she was staring to see that even the undead had limits to their strength.
“You’re scaring me,” she whispered, her throat tightening.
“Eloise…” Hardy leaned forwards and took her hands in his, knowing what it meant for him to touch her. “I know you’re worried, but I need you to trust me. There’s something I need to do, and it needs to be done in my own time.”
His skin felt cold to the touch, and her elemental powers stirred. She sensed his emotional turmoil and the threads of her magic reached out in order to change him, but she pulled away. She wasn’t ready to let go, and he didn’t want her help. This was his journey. He had to walk the path alone.
“I’ll be waiting,” she murmured, curling her fingers into tight fists. “If you need me…”
“I’ll let you know.”
Chapter 12
Vera sat behind the counter inside the Outpost, tapping away on her laptop.
Spreadsheets full of numbers scrolled across the screen and a tired sigh escaped her lips. On days like these, she almost wished she’d opened in the Ridge where business was a year-round affair.
Summer was a bad time for a general store in the outback, but at least the weather was starting to turn. Her first customers of the day had been a group of rumpled backpackers who smelled worse than they looked, but it was a sign the season was turning.
They’d pulled up in one of those campers spray painted with tacky slogans most people would feel were in poor taste. The vans were affordable, so backpackers could deal with the stares. Australia was an expensive country to travel around—the fuel prices were unbelievable going by the chalkboard out the front of Wally’s.
One guy was German, another Estonian, the Dutch girl was ‘hanging out’ with the German guy, and the fourth was a girl from Finland who seemed bewildered by the vast, and awfully dry, flatness of the outback. Vera supposed she was used to mountains, snow, and reindeer, though she didn’t know much about that part of the world.
The second time the bell rang, it heralded an unexpected visitor. Her heart leapt as it always did when she saw the uniformed man walk through the door, and her sigh turned into a goofy, lovesick grin.
Andrew Clarke was the local police sergeant in Lightning Ridge. Due to the immense size of Outback, New South Wales, his jurisdiction also took in Solace, even though it was over two hundred kilometres away. And that’s how they’d first met.
He’d been investigating the disappearance of Craig Roth, the previous alpha of the Dust Dogs, and had become embroiled in all that nonsense with the Nightshade. There was a bit where she’d gone crazy and imprisoned him inside an abandoned opal mine—the same one Wally used as his monthly werewolf den—but he didn’t remember that. Hardy had used his vampire abilities to wipe away the memories.
He’d forgotten all about the supernaturals of Solace, and that she was a witch. In fact, he’d forgotten about her entirely until she’d ‘bumped’ into him during a visit to Lightning Ridge.
He probably shouldn’t be here, but she didn’t have the heart to send him away. It took almost two hours to drive here from the Ridge, after all.
“Doing some social media scrolling?” Clarke asked, tapping the edge of her laptop.
“Just going over the books,” she told him with a wave of her hand. “Crunching numbers. Totally boring.” She snapped the lid shut and rounded the counter. “What are you doing so far out?”
“What?” He pressed a quick kiss on her lips. “Can’t I drive 224 kilometres to see my girlfriend?”
Vera’s eyebrows rose. “Girlfriend?”
Clarke’s smile faded a little around the edges. “Yeah? Aren’t you? Unless you’re…” He coughed nervously. “Which is fine. I mean, we didn’t expressly say…”
Vera laughed and pressed a kiss in his lips. “Who else do you think I’m dating around here?”
“That opal buyer?”
“Hardy?” Her laughter intensified. Hardy was the last person to have ever crossed her mind in that way.
“Well, I couldn’t see you and Drew hitting it off romantically.”
Vera snorted. The dingo had thought about it, but he was more like her little brother than a potential boyfriend.
“Wally’s a good bloke, but he’s a bit old for you.”
She screwed up her nose. “Stop, or I’ll have to give you a shovel to finish that hole you’re digging yourself.”
Clarke grinned and wrapped his arms around her. “Maybe I’ll find you some opal.”
“Wouldn’t that be a miracle?” She poked him in the chest. “Now, tell me why you’re really out here.”
“I’m trying to be an attentive boyfriend here, Vera,” he groaned.
She raised her eyebrows. “Spill.”
“Word is, a big mining company is doing some work out this way.”
Vera’s skin prickled. She didn’t want him going anywhere near that mine site. If Eloise was right, a vampire was heading up the exploration. “Yeah, I heard they blew through town.”
“EarthBore,” Clarke told her. “They have a multi-billion-dollar iron ore operation in Western Australia and are looking to move it out here.”
“What do the police want with them?”
“Nothing, but it’s my job to go out there and see what’s what.” He sighed, his brow creasing.
“What?” Vera loosened her hold and leaned back.
“It’s strange,” he murmured. “There was no forewarning. No community notices, no due diligence. The local elders had no idea a mining corp was moving in.”
She pursed her lips and lowered her gaze. It had compulsion written all over it, of course, but she couldn’t tell Clarke that, could she? Her feelings had only deepened the longer they were together, and one day she’d have to tell him the truth. Why not bring him into the fold?
The Nightshade was gone, but the danger wasn’t. Clarke couldn’t go to that mine site, but she couldn’t see a way to dissuade him without revealing it.
“Vera?” He cupped her cheek. “What is it?”
She met his gaze and her heart twisted. “Andy, I—”
The bell above the door rang and a hot burst of air wafted into the Outpost, cutting her off in the nick of time. Clarke let her go and she plastered on her best customer service smile.
As she faced the newcomer, her expression faded as cold fingers of death reached inside her chest and twisted.
The man standing on the welcome mat smirked, his black eyes gleaming. He was average height, but his stature made him appear like a giant. Strong shoulders enhanced by the clean-cut lines of an expensive dress shirt held a hidden power and betrayed the coldness of his skin. It was over forty outside—the kind of heat that could cook an egg on the highway—and there wasn’t an ounce of sweat on him.
His close-cropped black hair had a tight curl to it, and his eyes were round and wide-set. Was he Italian? Greek?
She wasn’t sure. The only thing she knew was that he was a vampire…and an old one.
“I thought I smelt witch,” the man purred.
Clarke tensed and angled his body in front of her. “Hang on there, mate. I think that’s a bit disrespectful.”
“What’s disrespectful is a weak mortal challenging me. Your uniform means nothing…” he leaned closer and peered at the badge pinned on Clarke’s shirt, “sergeant.”
Vera tugged on his arm. “Andy…”
He wasn’t listening. “I don’t know where you’ve come from, but no one is above the law.”
The vampire spread his arms wide. “And I have broken none.” His eyes moved to Vera. “Is this how you treat all your customers?”
“What do you want?” she demanded.
“You can deny this bloke service, Vera,” Clarke told her. “You don’t have to take this. In fact,” he turned to the vampire, “I think you ought to leave, mate.”
The man’s smirk faded. “I’m not your mate.”
He shot forwards and grabbed Clarke around the neck, hauling him up onto the counter. The sergeant’s back slammed down with a bang, rattling the shelves of confectionary at the front and dislodging the display of Chupa Chups. The lollipops fell to the floor and scattered across the linoleum.
Clarke made an awful choking sound and clawed at the hand around his neck, but the man didn’t seem bothered by his squirming.
“Leave him alone!” Vera cried.
“Or you’ll what?” the vampire asked, his smile widening. “You’ll make a vein pop in my head? I know all about you Irish witches. You’re not the same as—”
Vera twisted her hand in the air, her magic flaring. Briny sparks filled her palm and burst into life around the vampire.
He grunted, the only sign he felt any pain at all, and let go of Clarke. “There it is. The little witch has some spark in her after all.”
Clarke jerked upright, coughing and pressing his hand on his bruised neck.
Vera rushed to his side, glaring at the vampire. “After all? What do you mean?”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he strolled around the front of the shop, his gaze taking everything in.
“What a picturesque little place this is,” he remarked.
Vera pressed her hand on Clarke’s chest. “Explain yourself.”
Kyne knocked on the door leading down to Vera’s dugout, his shoulders heavy.
Eloise was acting a bit clingy towards Hardy, and it had his hackles up. There was caring about the bloke, and then there was caring. If Kyne was an insecure guy, he would’ve thought there was something else going on there, but he wasn’t that kind of guy…was he?
The elemental shook his head and snorted, knocking on Vera’s door again. Nah, he didn’t need to be worried about Hardy nicking Eloise from him. Not at all.
Kyne knocked once more, but there was no answer. He’d check the Outpost. Maybe Vera had opened early.
He strode down the road and hopped up onto the verandah. A crash echoed from inside the shop and he didn’t think much of it at first, not until he saw the now familiar police 4WD parked on the side of the highway…and the black Land Rover beside it.
His pace quickened and he shoved the door open, the bell ringing as he entered. Clarke and Vera stood in front of the counter while an unknown man loitered in front of the display of bottled water at the head of aisle two.
Vera turned at his arrival, and she held out her hand, her magic flaring. “Kyne, he’s a vampire. Stay back.”
The miner jerked to a halt as steely blue magic crackled across the floor, placing a barrier between him and the man. Kyne’s gaze darted around the shop, taking in the red marks around Clarke’s neck and the anger in Vera’s eyes. Whatever this guy was playing at, it wasn’t amicable.
“There you are,” the man said, gesturing for Kyne to come in. “This is starting to look like one of those jokes. A vampire, a witch, and an elemental walk into a bar…” He smirked and angled his gaze towards Clarke. “And what did the bartender say?”
“What’s he on about?” Clarke demanded.
The man looked at the sergeant and laughed. “He doesn’t know? Oh, this is starting to get good. And who said small towns were boring?”
“Enough,” Vera snapped. “I asked you to explain yourself, vampire.”
“Me?” he replied with a smirk. “I just came to see the sights. There are so few of them out here.”
“Who are you?” Kyne demanded.
“I am Darius,” the vampire said, fixing his black gaze on the elemental.
He said it like it was meant to cast fear into their hearts, but Kyne had no idea who this bloke was supposed to be, other than the vampire at the helm of EarthBore’s operation.
Vera snorted. “Never heard of you.”
The vampire’s eyes darkened, but Kyne stepped forwards. “A vampire in a suit,” he murmured. “All the way out here? What does a guy like you want with the largest iron ore despot in the Southern Hemisphere?”
Darius smirked. “Finally, someone has the brains to ask the right question. Unfortunately for you, I’m not willing to answer you just yet. Perhaps I came to cut you a deal, or to see who I needed to kill first, but from the reception I received, I see I’m not welcome here.”
Before Kyne could reply, the door crashed open, and Hardy appeared in a gust of hot wind. He came to a halt in front of Darius, his fangs bared.
It was the first time Kyne had seen him like this, and he found himself taking a step back, but Darius didn’t move an inch. In fact, he hadn’t even blinked.
“And there he is…” Darius snarled. “The turncloak. This is how you greet me? After all I’ve done for you?”
Kyne’s brow creased just as Eloise stumbled into the Outpost. She let out a yelp and he grabbed her arm, jerking her behind him.
“What are you doing here?” Hardy demanded, his gaze never leaving Darius. “I know you’ve got your fingers in EarthBore. What do you want with them?”
“What I want is none of your business, Frederick,” the vampire replied. “You lost the right to that privilege decades ago.”
“Frederick?” Eloise whispered, looking at Kyne.
Darius’s gaze fell onto the elemental. “I see he’s left out a lot of details. Shall I fill you in, or will I keep it to myself and watch you all implode as you try to drag it out of him? It all depends on how sadistic I’m feeling.” He turned and pointed at Vera. “And thanks to your little witch, I’m feeling particularly devious this morning.”
“You deserved it,” she spat.
“Perhaps,” his grin widened, “but your boyfriend fired first.”
Vera scoffed. “He did not! All he did was ask you to leave!”
“Words hurt, love.” His grin disappeared. “They cut right to the bone.”
“You’re not welcome here,” Hardy snarled.
“I can see that,” Darius declared. “Well, now that we all know where we stand, the battle lines can be drawn in the sand. Interfere with my little project and I’ll consider it a declaration of war.” He turned to Kyne. “I assume from your authoritative tone, that you’re the leader of this ragtag group of outsiders. So know this. Things could have gone differently, but you chose to back a traitor. So when he inevitably stabs you in the back and forces you to cross the line, remember you brought my retaliation upon yourselves.” He took a step towards the door, but Hardy placed a hand on his chest.
“This isn’t over,” he snarled.
Darius looked down at Hardy’s hand with disdain. “Of course, it isn’t.”
Then he disappeared, speeding through the door faster than Kyne’s eye could follow. A moment later, the Land Rover peeled away from the Outpost and zoomed up the highway.
No one said anything for a long time.
Hardy cast his gaze onto the floor, which only served to turn Kyne’s annoyance into anger. The vampire was keeping secrets—they all had them, of course—but now they’d come knocking, thre
atening them all. It wasn’t just about Hardy anymore.
“Where’s Drew?” the miner asked.
“Out with Coen, I assume,” Vera replied.
“If there’s a way to contact him, do it.” He turned his glare onto Hardy. “Someone has some explaining to do.”
“Kyne…” Eloise tugged on his sleeve, but he ignored her.
Clarke cleared his throat. “At the risk of turning into cannon fodder, what about me?”
Kyne had to give the sergeant points for his balls. This was his second go at learning about the supernatural, but at least it wasn’t turning out to be as horrific as the last time…yet.
“That’s up to Vera,” he said after glaring thoughtfully at the cop for a moment.
The witch’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“It’s obvious he’s going to become a fixture around here regardless of what anyone else says,” he told her, exasperated.
“Kyne,” Hardy said, taking a step towards him but pulled up short when he saw the look on the miner’s face.
“Pub. Now.”
Chapter 13
Port Arthur, Van Diemen’s Land, Australia, 1835
* * *
Hardy gasped, his eyes flying open.
The scent of pungent grime and dirt filled his senses, and he sat upright, pinching his nose. The darkness of his cell had been absolute when he’d been thrown in, and it still was, but somehow, he could sense where the door was. A humid breeze filtered in through the cracks in the hinges and it tickled his dirty face, coaxing a sensitivity that was new to him.
He pressed his hands against his back and found the pain was gone. The bandages were stiff with dried blood and putrid ointment, but he could move again. His torn flesh didn’t feel so torn anymore.
How was that possible?
Letting go of his nose, Hardy breathed deeply. He instantly regretted it and gagged as his lungs filled with new and unusual scents, all pungent in the worst way. Coal, sweat, blood…
He swallowed as his throat burned. He was thirsty…and hungry. He’d felt extreme hunger before and had found a way to live on the scant scraps that were fed to the convicts, but this was different. His stomach wasn’t churning, but his veins felt as if they were running dry and filling with sand.
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