by T. A. White
He seemed to have appointed himself my keeper/guardian, and he took his duties very seriously.
“Something is wrong,” he said, coming around me and peering at my face.
I forced myself to straighten and gave him a cocky smile. Everything was fine and dandy. If I kept telling myself that, maybe one of these days my body would actually listen.
“Nothing wrong here. I just got myself a free night,” I said, moving around him.
Nathan was waiting for me in the foyer when I got there.
“Let’s go,” I said, moving past him.
His gaze lifted above my head.
“Aileen.” Liam’s voice held a note of warning.
My hand was already on the doorknob and turning it. I fought to keep from groaning even as my stomach cramped again. In retrospect, taunting him had probably not been my best idea. Had I let him have the last word, he might have never witnessed that moment of weakness in the hall.
The door creaked open as I turned and gave him an expectant look. His attention locked above my left shoulder as an emotion crossed his face that made the breath in me still. It was full of a naked yearning, the breadth and intensity of which was scorching.
I turned to see what had caught his attention outside and caught the briefest glimpse of white before it disappeared into the dark.
To Eric, he said, “Go.”
Eric moved past me, disappearing into the trees almost faster than I could see.
I turned back, a question on my lips. Liam’s closed off expression stopped me.
“See her home,” Liam ordered Nathan, his focus already returning to the trees.
It wasn’t lost on me something had just happened. He’d heard or seen something that had stopped him from saying whatever was in his mind.
This was Liam. Badass vampire. Dangerous enforcer. He could kill more easily than most people breathed. What had caused that reaction?
I didn’t bother asking, knowing he wouldn’t answer anyway. I stepped onto the porch, scanning the grounds and immediate woods one last time before heading to the Escalade.
For Liam to ask me to use my magic-seeing eye to scan him, it had to mean he was worried about interference of some sort. Either a curse laid on him or a mental suggestion perhaps?
What sort of creature would be able to do that to a vampire? That was the more important question.
And what was in the woods that could cause that look of naked hope?
CHAPTER FOUR
The ride back to the city was a quiet one. I was busy trying to keep the contents of my stomach where they were while Nathan seemed lost in thought.
We were close to the city when the pain and nausea finally receded. I mentally checked Nathan’s smoothie concoction off the list of things that might help solve my little problem.
I turned toward Nathan to watch as he stared at the highway in front of us with intent focus.
It was tempting to pepper the enforcer with questions, but ultimately it would no doubt prove useless. As his sire and master, Liam commanded the entirety of Nathan’s loyalty.
I sighed and leaned back. There was something going on and the curious person in me wanted to know what. Still, involving myself would no doubt backfire. It would be smarter and probably safer to stay out of it.
“Get off here,” I said as we approached the exit for Henderson.
He glanced at me, his face startled. He looked back at the road and kept driving.
“Nathan, come on. I have a free night. I don’t get a lot of them and it seems a shame to go back to the apartment,” I argued.
“Liam ordered me to take you home.” He glanced over his shoulder and changed lanes. We weren’t far from the exit now. A few more minutes and we’d be past it.
“We both know that won’t keep me there,” I said. “Five minutes after you leave,I’ll be out the door again. At least this way, you’ll be able to give Liam a place to start if he decides to track me down.”
Nathan exhaled and shook his head. The car shifted lanes, moving to follow the exit ramp. I felt a thrill of victory and sat back.
“Why here?” he asked. “There are much better places in the Arena district or Short North.”
That was true, but that part of the city saw a lot of traffic by other spooks, especially those who preyed on humans. Both areas were heavily frequented by humans looking to have a good time. The presence of alcohol often resulted in humans with lowered inhibitions who were less wary. It made them easy pickings for creatures looking to use them as a food source.
I preferred to stay out of both parts of the city whenever possible. It was a lot easier now that I wasn’t a bike messenger.
“Turn right,” I told him as he stopped at the light.
“You don’t even have any friends here,” he complained.
“You don’t know everyone I know.”
He raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘that’s what you think’.
It made me pause. I gave him a searching look as I narrowed my eyes. The vampires had proven more than once their skills at ferreting out the minor details of my life. I had few secrets at this point. The ones I did I protected with a fierce zealotry.
“Some people would say such a statement indicates you’re a stalker,” I said in a calm voice.
He choked on a laugh.
Before he could respond, I leaned forward. “Pull over here.”
“There’s nothing here,” he said with a frown.
We were on Henderson, right next to the bike path. Normally, I would never attempt a stop on this road. It was one of the main veins of traffic, connecting the two sides of the river. This late at night, the street was empty. All the humans were tucked safely in bed dreaming about unicorns or monsters.
“That’s the point.” I unbuckled my seat belt, giving him a challenging look. “You didn’t think I’d make stalking me easy, did you?”
I didn’t wait for an answer, getting out and heading around to the back of the Escalade. Nathan got there before me and popped the trunk, reaching in and hauling my bike out before I could.
He set it on the ground, his hands hesitating on the handlebars. He frowned at me, his eyebrows pulling together. It was clear he was second-guessing the decision to drop me here.
I stepped forward and took the bike from him.
He sighed. “Liam is going to have my ass for this.”
“You could always not tell him.”
He shook his head. “He’d know. He always knows. You’re the only one I’ve ever seen challenge him and not get punished for it.”
I pulled the bike onto the sidewalk. “It’s part of my charm.”
“That’s one word for it,” he said, running his hand through his hair.
I stood on the curb, my bike propped against me and gave him an expectant look. He waited, staring back at me blankly.
I shifted my eyes to the vehicle, a silent signal he could go now.
He folded his arms over his well-defined chest, the muscles bulging under the thin fabric of his shirt. “You’re kidding.”
I shook my head, my expression not quite making it to regret.
He grunted in frustration before he headed back to the car. I watched him, waiting as he started the car and drove off. Even then I remained in place, knowing he’d most likely have to double back if he wanted to return to the highway.
Sure enough, minutes later he cruised past me, glaring out the window.
I gave him a cheery wave and waited as he pulled onto the entrance ramp. Only then did I throw my leg over the bike and ride it across the street into the neighborhood.
My route was not direct. It would have been simpler to head to High Street and use the straight shot it would have given me, but I liked the peace of the neighborhood. I liked seeing the old houses, big half a million-dollar homes side by side with their smaller companions, cottages that were probably not much bigger than my apartment, where the yards were as unique and distinct as the houses they led to.
I approached a charming bridge, one that looked like it belonged on a postcard—the stonemasonry more fitting for a European countryside than a suburb of Columbus.
I got off my bike and walked it over the bridge. I stopped halfway across and stared down at the small creek below and the slate stones it ran across.
There was a slight groan beneath me, like wind rushing through a small opening. I knew better though. Only a fool dismissed what their senses told them, especially when they were a spook.
I laid a penny on one of the bridge’s sides. The penny was one I’d been carrying for several weeks now, just for this purpose.
It wasn’t anything special. Just a 1969 Lincoln penny. Not common, but not rare either. Better yet, I knew it was one my friend under the bridge had been seeking for almost a year now.
Next to the penny I laid a green apple Chupa Chup sucker. He had a sweet tooth and he was limited to what people tossed over the side of the bridge.
My toll paid, I grabbed the bike and wheeled it across, glancing back in time to see a dark green hand the size of my head reach up and gently lift the penny and sucker off the bridge.
“Night, Hector,” I called.
“Safe travels, Aileen,” a deep rumble responded.
The bridge troll was one of my first clients. They weren’t usually violent, unless they felt their bridge was being disrespected or imperiled. Hector was pretty easygoing, but shy until he’d known you awhile. It was almost two years before he let me get my first glimpse of him.
I usually walked my bike over his bridge. He told me once he preferred the days when people walked. Riding over a bridge on wheels was considered disrespectful among his race. Today, most of the traffic he saw was cars and the odd bike. It was a simple act of kindness to walk and it cost me nothing.
My destination wasn’t much farther. A small, unkempt building edging up to High Street, the Blue Pepper appeared as if it had never seen a good day, while the bright and festive sign out front looked like it belonged somewhere else.
Despite that, the Blue Pepper had no problem bringing in repeat business. The parking lot was pretty full for a weeknight, which seemed to be the case every time I visited.
I hopped off my bike and wheeled it around back to the bike rack the owner kept there. I was pretty sure I was the only one who ever used it. My bike would be safe despite the fact this area had a lot of petty crime—things like cars being broken into or thefts from front or back yards.
No one stole from the Blue Pepper. The locals all knew better. The owner had a habit of tracking down such foolhardy entrepreneurs and exacting a rather poetic justice on anyone stupid enough to dare her wrath.
The Blue Pepper was the same as always—a local watering hole, pure and simple. They didn’t serve food, only drinks, though the owner had an agreement with a local food truck that stopped by most nights.
You were as likely to find an expensive car or SUV sitting side by side with a junker that looked like it might fall apart at any moment.
For the most part, the two types of clientele got along, each leaving the other to drown their sorrows or celebrate with their friends in peace. Every once in a while, an asshole wandered in, then the true entertainment began.
If Dahlia didn’t send them packing, one of her more interesting customers did the deed for her. Because the Blue Pepper didn’t just cater to humans. Spooks were regular visitors, coming from all over the city to take advantage of a neutral place to drink and socialize.
Her clientele wasn’t just spooks capable of passing for human, either. Dahlia had some type of glamour on the place capable of masking a spook’s appearance, enabling them to pose as a human while within the bounds of her property.
It was a powerful draw for many in the shadow world. It made the Blue Pepper a good place to visit, if you were in need of gossip.
Dahlia wasn’t the only one to notice me; many of the people inside stared as I approached the bar. There was more than one unfriendly gaze in the crowd, though none knew me personally. More spooks with a bone to pick with a vampire, I noted with a sigh.
While I was within the Blue Pepper, I was safe. Getting home might be a bit tricky, but for now I didn’t have to worry about claws in the dark or magic being lobbed at me from the shadows.
They all knew better than to try something here. Not with Dahlia manning the bar. She took such things personally.
Still, a tall, thin man stood, his face wrinkling with hate as I neared.
“Dean, that’s enough.” There was a steely edge to Dahlia’s voice.
Dean hesitated, before taking a seat. His table companion leaned over and patted his shoulder, shooting me a glance over her shoulder.
The humans in the bar glanced around in curiosity, not understanding the sudden animosity floating in the air. They turned back to their drinks without any prompting.
Dahlia watched me approach from her spot behind the bar where she reigned with all the authority of a queen on her throne. She tilted her head to the side, indicating an empty seat at the end of the bar even as she took an order from the human in front of her, giving him a dazzling smile as she flitted back and forth.
He was charmed, handing her a twenty and waving off his change.
Even after knowing her for several years, I still couldn’t pinpoint Dahlia’s species. She was a tall, lithe woman, with a grace that had always eluded me. She had almond-shaped eyes and straight hair the color of the deepest of shadows that hinted at a middle eastern ancestry. Her skin was a golden tone that made her look sun-kissed even in the deepest parts of winter.
She had the sort of face that belonged on a cover of a magazine or a movie screen. It was the biggest indication she was something other than human. Dahlia possessed the sort of beauty that once might have caused a few wars as men fought to possess her.
She had an otherworldly, mysterious quality that easily ensnared your attention and didn’t release it until she looked away again.
She wasn’t a succubus—she lacked their raw punch of sexuality—but she shared similar attributes, most notably she could read your deepest desire.
Finished with her customer, Dahlia glided my way, stopping in front of me. She didn’t bother asking for my order, her hands already busy in a graceful dance as she prepared my drink.
Her motions paused as her gaze turned inward. She sent me a chiding glance before pouring the pale-yellow liquid into a martini glass.
She held her hand out, palm up. “You should have come as soon as it broke.”
I gave her a sheepish smile, reaching up to undo the chain before setting the necklace in her hand. “I got a little busy.”
She handed over the lemon drop martini before holding up the small pendant to examine. “This wouldn’t have stopped another attack in this state.”
I lifted the drink before putting it back on the bar top with a faint grimace. As much as I would love a taste of one of Dahlia’s drinks. It didn’t seem like a good idea to risk it, not after I’d almost lost the contents of my stomach once this night.
“Can you fix it?” I asked.
She didn’t fail to note the drink sitting between us, but made no comment, her attention returning to the pendant.
“The magic that broke this would have been powerful. Most likely lethal,” she said.
I’d suspected as much, but it was good to have it confirmed. I gave the pendant a grim look.
Until now, the attacks on me had been annoying but mostly harmless. I might have suffered a few minor injuries but there’d been nothing close to what the woman had thrown at me.
She clasped the pendant in her fist. A small thread of the smoke that always seemed to be present in the Blue Pepper drifted down to wrap around her hand and seep between the cr
evasses of her fingers.
I found myself fascinated with the process. An intense look of concentration crossed Dahlia’s face, her muscles tightening as some hint of other briefly peeked through.
She relaxed and handed the once more fully intact charm back to me. I took it without comment and slid it back over my neck, almost afraid to do so.
This was powerful magic. Not the sort easily performed. There was always a cost to such things. Oftentimes that cost didn’t involve money. No, it was exacted through blood and bone.
Unfortunately, I didn’t think I could afford to turn it down. Not with half the city gunning for me at this point.
“What do I owe you?” I forced myself to ask.
She shook her head. “One day I’m going to need your help. I hope you’ll be there.”
I considered her with a serious gaze. “I don’t kill innocents.” I thought about it. “Or friends.”
Her smile was slight. “I’m well aware of your limits, Aileen.”
I snorted. Only a spook would consider that a limit.
Her eyes flicked to my right. “Now drink your martini and socialize with your friend. Both will do you good.”
She moved away before I could respond.
In confusion, I looked up to find Caroline standing at my shoulder, her face set in a frown.
She glared at the human sitting next to me. “Move.”
The man opened his mouth to argue before getting a good look at my friend. Caroline was cute in a way that men often fell over themselves to oblige her. With her blond hair styled into waves around her face and blue eyes that seemed to stare right through you, she looked like the girl next door who’d grown up to be a sexy teacher.
Since being bitten by a werewolf, she’d gone from nice girl, to having a hint of the wild in her movements and expression. To a human, it would be a tempting combination.
This one was no different. He picked up his drink, aiming a flirtatious look her way before stumbling to the other side of the bar.
Caroline settled herself into his seat, flicking her hair over her shoulder and crossing her legs.
