by Emery Belle
“Invitation only,” Tanner said, leaning back in his seat and draping his arm across the back of the booth, his eyes still lingering on the bartender. “To anyone who isn’t a member, or who hasn’t been invited by a member, the place looks like an abandoned broomstick factory. And once you leave, you won’t be able to find it again.” He nodded toward my palm, and when I turned my hand over, I saw that not only had the address he’d written in ink completely faded, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember any of it.
“Neat trick,” I said, impressed. “But why all the secrecy?” I took a tentative taste of my ale—I usually gravitated toward the fruity drinks, but I was pleasantly surprised at how light and delicious it was, reminding me of sunny days and freshly mown grass. I licked my lips and took another sip, and before I knew it, half the tankard was gone.
“Delicious, isn’t it?” Tanner said, nodding toward my drink. Then his face turned serious as he traced the lines of condensation on his own tankard. “I wouldn’t exactly describe what we’re doing here as secrecy. More like… escape.”
I frowned at him. “In what way?”
Tanner didn’t answer immediately; instead, he gazed around, his expression softening as he took in the men and women crowded into the saloon. When he finally spoke, his tone was low and gruff and slightly heartbroken. “We’re the ones who don’t belong,” he said. A wistful smile crossed his face as his eyes landed on the bartender.
“Take Sally, for example. There isn’t a finer girl on the island—sweet, kind, beautiful… the kind of woman most men can only dream about. But she’s also a hag. And in the right light…” He tipped his head toward Sally. “Wait for it.”
And so I did. But nothing happened, until suddenly, a shadow fell across the saloon and her features transformed, her youth and beauty morphing into a haggard-looking old woman with wispy gray hair, snaggly teeth, and a hook nose. I bit back a scream, but no one else in the room even batted an eye, and Sally herself continued pouring drinks as though nothing had happened. When the shadow lifted, the old woman was gone.
A shudder ran over me, and though I tried to hide it, Tanner gave me a knowing look. “See what I mean?” His eyes swiveled around the room again, eventually landing on a miniature female brownie cheering on a group of dwarves throwing darts at a bullseye. “That’s Dessie. Can’t mop a floor for the life of her. And over there…” He pointed to a statuesque mermaid with waist-length black hair and vivid violet eyes. “Caterina. Have you ever met a mermaid who couldn’t swim?”
He continued along the same lines for a while, regaling me with tales of misfit after misfit, until finally he came to himself. Raising his eyebrows, he shot me a sly smile. “I come from a long line of big-cat shifters… leopards, lions, even a jaguar or two. The kings and queens of the forest. And me?” His features shifted before my eyes and his body curled in on itself, shrinking down, down, down, until, prancing before me, was…
A turkey.
He gobbled, and I tried not to think about how delicious he looked. Visions of Thanksgiving dinners danced in my head, and my stomach let out a loud rumble that I quickly covered with a series of fake sneezes. Finally, mercifully, when I had forced myself to daydream about an imaginary slice of pumpkin pie instead of a juicy turkey leg, he shifted back into a man.
“See what I mean?” he said, then made a face and spat a feather into his hand. “Not only am I an embarrassment to my entire family, I’m also prey. I can’t even tell you how many narrow misses there were with Auggie when we were kids… When in leopard form, he couldn’t help himself. Instincts, you know.” He shook his head ruefully. “So this”—he swept his arm around the room—“is an island of misfits among an even bigger island of misfits.”
My heart simultaneously swelled and sank as I looked from creature to creature. They’d been searching for a place where they could belong, and they’d found it in each other. They’d found their home, their family, and it was perfect.
If only I could say the same about myself.
“So, shall we get down to business?” Tanner said as I stared morosely into what was left of my ale before downing it in one large swallow. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and almost succeeded in suppressing a burp. Tanner stared at me. “You okay?”
“Never better!” I said, forcing my voice to sound convincing. I stared down at the notes I’d taken so far from my interviews with Gerald and Meryl, along with the observations I’d made about Auggie’s roommate, Pete the brownie, at his self-defense class. I was trying to get my head back into the game, but I could barely bring myself to care about anything I’d written down so far. So what if Auggie’s death went unsolved? So what if Gerald spent the rest of his days in prison for a murder he didn’t commit? Life was unfair. Some people hit the jackpot, and some hit the skids. It was a flip of the coin, a force outside of your control...
“Wren?” By now, Tanner was starting to look concerned, and so I cleared my throat and forced myself to flip the notebook to a clean page. As a fresh wave of laughter from a nearby group of gnomes washed over me, I began to feel slightly ashamed of myself. The people around me had all been dealt a crappy hand of cards, and look at them. They were still in the game. They had found some kind of purpose in life, and this… this was mine. Helping people. Searching for the truth. Fighting for justice. If someone had done this for my own mother, perhaps…
Perhaps.
“So.” My voice cracked on the word, but I took a breath and forced myself to regain control. “Tell me why you think Gerald didn’t kill Auggie. No. Scratch that.” I paused, and met Tanner’s eyes. “Tell me about Auggie. Tell me about who he was. Tell me about his hopes and dreams. Tell me everything.”
Tanner looked momentarily taken aback, but then he raked a hand through his thinning hair and gazed into the distance while he considered my request. “I don’t even know where to start. Auggie was… he was cool. Funny. Outgoing. He was the kind of big brother everyone wants. Except to me.” A shadow flashed across his eyes, but then he shrugged and it was gone.
“I guess that isn’t entirely fair. He was a good brother most of the time, but he made fun of me a lot for… you know.” He gestured at the feather lying on the table. “He was my mother’s favorite, and she is absolutely devastated by his death. She thinks the gnome did it, but I’m not so sure.”
I leaned forward, pen at the ready. “What makes you think that?” I hesitated, unsure whether to voice my hunch. But after the little scene I’d witnessed at Auggie’s funeral, I had to know. “Meryl? I saw you two arguing in the garden today.”
Tanner pressed his fingertips together and gazed at me thoughtfully. “Meryl and my brother were together for two years. From the first time he brought her around, my mother immediately liked her.” He let out a derisive snort. “Oh, she was thrilled to have a witch in the family! She’s always coveted magic, but shifters don’t possess any, and so right away she began asking Meryl to do little tasks for her to make her life easier. Clean the kitchen with a wave of her wand, that sort of thing.” He shook his head. “When they broke up over that whole nasty business with Ollie, I’m not sure who was more devastated—Auggie or my mother.”
I cringed at the mention of Ollie, the true victim in all of this mess. “Surely she could have understood why Meryl would have been upset enough to end things with Auggie.”
Tanner laughed. “Understood? My mother was furious with him! Which is why she’s trying to justify what Meryl is doing now.” I raised my eyebrows in interest, but he held up a finger and took a swig of his ale before continuing. “She’s filed a claim with Auggie’s life insurance policy. Thinks his estate should pay her for Ollie’s death—big time.”
He slammed his tankard back on the table, and the remaining ale sloshed down the sides, puddling into the wooden tabletop. “I’ve seen the claim, Wren, and it’s ridiculous. She’s claiming severe mental trauma and emotional damage, to the tune of seventy thousand gold coins. Today, when I saw her, I couldn�
�t hold my tongue. So I gave her a piece of my mind.”
I whistled. “Seventy thousand? Auggie must have been worth a fortune!” I did some quick mental calculations—it would take me several decades to earn that much from mopping up bedpans at the hospital.
Tanner nodded proudly and beamed. “Have you ever been to his butcher shop? Every evening the line is halfway down the block!” Then the smile fell from his lips. “I suppose we’ll have to close it. Or sell. I don’t know a darn thing about meat. I’ve always liked berries and seeds, myself.”
An image of Tanner in his turkey skin flashed through my mind, and I shook my head to banish it before I burst into giggles. Then, remembering where I was and what I was supposed to be doing, I scrawled this new information into my notebook and asked in a serious voice, “So you think Meryl killed him to collect on his life insurance policy?” I wasn’t surprised; money was a motive as old as time.
But Tanner shook his head fiercely. “No. I think Meryl is an opportunist who is capitalizing on my brother’s death, but I don’t think she had it in her to murder him. She loved him, I’m sure of it. What happened was a tragic accident, but Meryl wasn’t able to forgive him. This is her way of getting her revenge… aside from breaking his heart, that is.”
Frowning, I set down my pen. “If not Meryl, then who?”
Tanner shot a discreet look over his shoulder, then, satisfied that no one was listening, lowered his voice to barely a whisper and said, “Harold.”
“Harold?” I repeated in disbelief, feeling my anger rising. Boy, Kellen had really dropped the ball on this one. With a Meryl and a Harold in play, how could the police chief be so sure that Auggie had whispered Gerald’s name on his deathbed? Oh, right. He couldn’t.
“A former employee at Auggie’s butcher shop.” Tanner clenched his hands into fists. “He’s responsible for my brother’s death, I’m sure of it.”
“Tell me more,” I said, scribbling furiously. “When you say former employee, do you mean he was—”
“Fired.” Tanner gave a curt nod. “He was stealing prime cuts of meat from right under Auggie’s nose. This went on for months before my brother caught on, and it cost him a small fortune in lost inventory. When he figured out what was going on, he fired Harold right away.”
I twirled my pen between my fingers and frowned. “People get fired every day, though, and most of them don’t turn around and murder their boss. What makes you so sure Harold was Auggie’s killer?”
Tanner heaved a long, loud sigh, his shoulders drooping sadly. “Harold had worked at the butcher shop for many years, and he and my brother had developed a pretty close friendship. When Auggie found out what was happening, he felt utterly betrayed. So betrayed that he may have gone a bit overboard.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Meaning…?”
“Meaning Auggie did more than just fire Harold. My brother was incredibly well-connected, and he told everyone he knew what Harold had done. Word spread like wildfire, as it always does in a small town, and before Harold knew what had hit him, he’d been effectively blacklisted from every job in town.”
Tanner dipped his finger into the spilled ale and began drawing wet circles on the tabletop. “Everything for Harold went downhill from there. He couldn’t find work, so he couldn’t pay the bills, so he lost his house… you get the picture. Long story short, Harold had sort of a mental breakdown, I guess you could call it. I didn’t witness it myself, but everyone on the island was talking about it. He started running wild, even outside of the full moon. The pack leaders tried to catch him, but last I heard, they haven’t been able to track him down.”
I gulped, and my heart rate picked up. “So I take it Harold is a werewolf.”
Tanner nodded. “And if the rumors are true, he’s a dangerous one. One who wouldn’t think twice about sticking a dagger into the heart of the man he believes wronged him. If Harold wasn’t involved in Auggie’s death, I’ll eat my own giblets.”
As I tried to ignore that mental image, he leaned forward, his eyes soft and searching. “My brother won’t be able to rest until his killer is caught, and neither will I. So, Wren, will you help us?”
My grip on the pen tightened as I met Tanner’s gaze. It looked like I was heading into the werewolves’ den.
Chapter 10
“There’s our little investigator!”
Andrei looked up from his computer and gave me a sly smile as I walked past. The tips of his fangs were stained red, courtesy of the mug of warm blood stationed beside him in lieu of coffee. Noticing me eyeing it, he smacked his lips and said, “Nothing like a cup of Type O Negative in the morning. Really gets the veins working in overdrive. You don’t know what you’re missing out on, Wren.”
My stomach flipped over, and I gave my blueberry muffin a sad look before tossing it into the trash can. “Can we talk?” I said to him as I propped my elbows on the nurses’ station and watched his long fingers fly across his keyboard. The magical injuries ward was, as usual, bustling with activity, and I cringed at the sight of a screaming witch being carted off to the surgical unit to have the wand sticking out of her eye removed.
Andrei gave me a long, searching look before switching off his computer screen and leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. The vampire was looking as handsome as ever this morning, and I noticed several fairy nurses shooting me envious looks as they fluttered past the desk and saw me talking to him.
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say this has something to do with the wand you pulled on me the other day?” He flicked his forked tongue over his fangs to sweep up the rest of his morning blood.
“Yes,” I said, fiddling with the tie on my housekeeping smock and avoiding the vampire’s gaze. In the cold light of day, far away from Cole’s hospital room and the man with the silver eyes, I felt ashamed of myself for threatening Andrei with my wand when he’d only been trying to help. I’d been disoriented, and in pain from the gargoyle’s spell, and sad. So very, very sad.
When I opened my mouth to tell him as much, he held up his hand and shook his head.
“Love makes us do crazy things, Wren. Impulsive, selfish things.” His jaw tightened for a moment, and the look of pain that flashed through his eyes was intense but fleeting. “I understand that more than anyone.”
“Love?” I shook my head fervently. “It’s not that. It’s…”
I pursed my lips, searching fruitlessly for the right word, while Andrei gave me a knowing smile. “I’m just worried about him,” I said finally. I glanced toward Cole’s hospital door, which was slightly ajar, though I could see the darkness within. He still wasn’t awake. Shouldn’t he have been awake by now? Fear stole my breath, and I clutched the edge of the desk to steady myself.
“Sometimes the heart knows what it wants before the brain catches up,” the vampire replied, raising his eyebrows. He turned back to his computer, and for the first time, I noticed the small framed photograph of a woman propped up beside the screen.
“Who’s this?” I said, snatching it up before he could stop me, and grateful for the distraction. I gazed down at the woman in the photo—she was beautiful, with long dark hair, wide eyes rimmed in black, and a soft, mysterious smile, almost as if she was flirting with the photographer. She was wearing a Victorian-style dress with voluminous skirts, a tight corset, and a plunging neckline that showcased porcelain skin.
The sadness in Andrei’s eyes had returned, lingering there as he stretched out one finger and caressed the woman’s cheek. “Melanie.” The word came out on a sigh. “My beloved girl.” He pressed his hand to his stomach and winced, as if the mention of her name caused him physical pain. Then he gently removed the photo from my hand and stared down at it before opening a drawer beside his computer and placing it inside, face-down.
When he glanced up at me again, he looked like he had aged twenty years; his forehead was scored with deep lines, and the skin beneath his eyes sagged with exhaustion. “Sometimes, seeing her fa
ce… it’s too much.” He took a deep breath and exhaled softly before bowing his head.
Seeing him like this was a shock… he was a far cry from the cocky, confident vampire he presented to the outside world. “What happened to her?” I asked quietly. “I thought vampires were immortal.”
“Only under ideal circumstances,” Andrei said, pressing his fingertips to his forehead and massaging his temple. “And that includes a constant supply of fresh blood. It is our food, our lifeforce, our very soul. It is essential to us, and my beautiful Melanie… she quite suddenly developed an intolerance to it that caused her body to be wracked with seizures every time blood touched her lips.” By now, he was white-knuckling the edge of his desk, his breath coming faster, shallower, as he relived that time.
“When I realized what was happening, when I saw that she was growing weaker, closer to true death by the day, I moved heaven and earth to try and help her. I traveled to faraway lands, searching for a cure. I forced myself on those who would not give me their blood willingly, irreparably harming many in the process. I did what I had to do to save my sweet Melanie. But I failed. I was there when she took her last breath, when she looked me in the eyes and made me promise I would go on without her. And I have… but not in here.” He pressed his hand to his chest, directly over his heart.
“Andrei, I… I don’t know what to say.” My bottom lip was quivering, and before I could stop myself, I was rushing around the nurses’ station, pulling him to his feet, and tugging him into my arms. After a few moments, the tension bled from his body and he collapsed into me, weary and spent.
“It’s all right,” I said in a soothing voice as he trembled against me, patting him on the back. “Everything will be—”
“Wren?”
I glanced up to find Sebastian standing in front of me, holding a drooping bouquet of wildflowers in one hand and looking from me to the handsome vampire and back again. I released Andrei, and he straightened back up to his full, considerable height, and faced Sebastian, back erect.
