CHAPTER FOUR
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.
This was an old neighborhood, the streets not laid out in neat grid patterns. They dipped and swerved, with hidden ravines and wooded paths popping up out of nowhere, only known and frequented by locals familiar with the neighborhood.
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 crevasses 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.
“You told me you had work,” she said without preamble.
I lifted an eyebrow and gave a meaningful glance at the human she’d just ordered out of his seat. She ignored that to lift a hand at Dahlia, pointing at my drink to request her own.
“I did have work,” I said when she gave me an expectant look.
She glanced around the room. “Funny place to run a gas station from.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Liam called in one of his nights.”
Her head spun back to me. The way her eyes widened would have been comical on someone else.
“The Liam? The badass enforcer you’ve been moping over since he left?” She leaned back in her chair. “Now, this should be interesting.”
“I haven’t been moping,” I said in an irritable voice.
Caroline took the martini Dahlia handed her with a smile, taking a sip before making a moue of pleasure.
“This is delicious,” she told Dahlia, before drinking some more.
Dahlia’s lips quirked in amusement. She picked up a rag and started wiping the bar with it, listening in on our conversation without an ounce of shame. “I find this news fascinating as well.”
I glared at the two who’d decided to gang up on me. I focused on Caroline first. “How did you find me and since when do you drink those?”
Caroline set the martini down. “I don’t, but I’m going to start. I need a break from all the beer.” She gave a delicate shudder. “That’s all Brax and his people seem to drink. Beer, beer and more beer.”
Somehow that didn't surprise me.
She avoided my gaze, glancing around the bar as she ignored my first question.
I narrowed my eyes at her, recognizing the stall tactic for what it was.
“You followed my scent,” I accused.
A slight trace of pink tinged her cheeks. I was right. I knew it.
“How?” I asked.
Even if she’d gone to my apartment, there was no way she could have followed my trail here. Nathan had picked me up and driven me halfway across the city. There should have been no scent for her to follow.
She cleared her throat, looking a little uncomfortable. “I live in the area and was out for a run. Your scent is easy to recognize.”
A run? I gave her a narrow-eyed once-over. It wasn’t that I couldn’t picture Caroline running. She played soccer in high school and had been an avid runner. She was the one who’d nagged until I agreed to go, pounding down the trails with her, complaining the whole time.
Yes, I could see her out for a run, but not at eleven p.m. while dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a scalloped edged tank top the color of burgundy.
It made me wonder if she’d been in a two-legged or four-legged form during this supposed run.
I took a sip of my martini as I considered her, the sweet tartness setting my taste buds alive. “Uh huh.”
She rolled her eyes at my response but didn’t push.
Caroline was like me—so new to the supernatural ranks she was practically in diapers. Only unlike me, she had the full might of the pack behind her. She had the added advantage—or disadvantage depending on how you looked at it—of having a demon taint. It made her more powerful than she should be, a force in her own right. For both those reasons, she enjoyed a rather untouchable status.
I decided to let Caroline be and turned my attention to Dahlia. “You seem busier than usual. Any reason?” I tilted my head at the rest of the bar. The place wasn’t just busy for the middle of the week, it was crazy.
More interesting, spooks outnumbered humans. I counted only six humans in the place, and that was being generous, since I wasn’t sure if a group in the corner were human or something very adept at pretending to be human.
“It’s karaoke night.” Dahlia wiped down a glass, twisting it in her hands.
I looked around again, noting the karaoke machine I hadn’t paid attention to earlier, along with the small monitor for the lyrics. Several people had already lined up to look at the song selection and the person running it was busy getting everything ready.
“We have it every Wednesday,” Dahlia said. “It’s one of our biggest draws.”
“Oh, we haven’t been to one of those in years,” Caroline said.
“No,” I told her. I wasn’t getting up there and singing with half the Columbus population of spooks looking on. They already saw me as a joke. There was no reason to add to that.
“We’ll see,” she said with a devilish smile before taking another sip of her drink.
I snorted, but didn’t comment. I went back to people-watching, letting my gaze skim over the crowd.
Caroline paused in sipping her martini, her eyes narrowing. She looked over the crowd and then back at me. “Oh my God, you’re up to something.”
I started, my attention swinging back to her. “What are you talking about?”
Caroline set the martini down with a thump. Dahlia ignored a patron trying to flag down her attention, too interested in our conversation.
Caroline pointed a finger at me. “I know that look.”
“What look?” I asked defensively.
“The one that says you’re trying to plan an angle of attack. The hot vampire you’re obsessed with isn’t here so I know you’re not trying to figure out how to pick someone up. Something either happened that you’re not telling me about or you caught wind of something that is making you curious,” she said, her voice challenging.
I looked from Caroline to Dahlia whose eyes were alight with amusement. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh huh,” Caroline said, picking up her martini again. “I’ve heard that before.”
I tapped my fingers against the bar, considering. It didn’t hurt to put out a few feelers.
“You hear anything about a spook trying to fence a scroll?” I asked Dahlia.
She paused in cleaning the glasses and fixed me with a look. “I have not.”
I slumped back. I suppose it had been too much to hope the first person I asked would know something.
Dahlia was a good source. Most spooks in the city, especially those on the weaker end of the spectrum, ended up in her bar at some point or another. Of everyone I knew, I figured she’d be the most likely to have heard anything worth hearing.
Not the case, it seemed.
“What type of scroll?” Caroline asked.
Of course, she’d be interested. As a former historian and current bookshop manager, a mysterious scroll would have the same draw that a dead animal would have to her inner wolf. At least she couldn’t roll on the scroll.
“No clue,” I told her.
She sat back in disappointment, propping her chin on her hand.
“What about Jerry? You hear anything about him?” I asked.
Dahlia fixed me with a look. There was a weight behind it, as if she was considering how much to share.
“It would be best to leave that matter alone,” she finally said.
Caroline snorted. “Yeah, that means she definitely won’t.”
Dahlia dipped her head. “I see your point.”
I gave the two of them an insulted look. Caroline’s laugh as she took another sip nearly caused her to choke.
“That’s not true,” I said, defending myself.
Caroline set the drink down when she got control of her coughing. “It is, but it’s one of the reasons I love you. You go where other people fear to tread—especially when someone tells you not to.”
I couldn’t keep my scowl and shrugged. She had a point.
I turned to Dahlia and lifted my eyebrows. “Well?”
She cleaned a glass and set it down before picking up another one. “There is to be a Wild Hunt.”
Caroline and I watched her blankly.
“And?”
Dahlia’s lips curved just the faintest bit. “And the gallant knight has been pressed into service. Until its end, he must fulfill his role.”
I frowned and sat back. That didn’t really answer much, and it got me no closer to knowing why he’d closed Hermes.
As if in answer, Dahlia tilted her head in a significant look at the table behind me. I studied the occupants in the mirror, three women. All of them appeared entirely human.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was that set my instincts to tingling, telling me these women were more than they seemed. They looked normal enough, dressed for a night out with their friends, dressy-casual but not plain. Their hair and makeup perfectly done. The overall effect said they cared about their appearance but weren’t really looking to attract a guy.
They were all older, late thirties to mid-forties. They looked like moms or work friends who’d decided to meet up and leave their husbands and kids behind.
The one nearest me looked uncomfortable, continually fiddling with her drink as the other two watched the room with cool gazes.
That was it. That was what was bothering me. They might look like middle-aged women out for a night on the town, but studied the room with a soldier’s focus, noting the exits, the possible threats in the room. Civilians just didn’t do that.
The blond looked up just then, catching my gaze in the mirror. I didn’t jerk or look away as I sipped on my martini before allowing my attention to wander away.
I ignored the desire to look back, knowing her focus was still on me.
Caroline helped with my deception, leaning over and saying, “Ha, I knew it.”
I smiled at her and nodded. “Is she still looking at us?”
Caroline flicked her hair over her shoulder, glancing in the mirror casually and then around the bar. “Yup.”
“You’ve gotten good at that move,” I said in approval. “Time was you would have given up the game by staring straight at her.”
She gave me a crooked smile. “I’ve been practicing.”
I looked at her and arched my eyebrows. On the tip of my tongue was the question of why that was. I didn’t ask it.
Dahlia placed another lemon drop in front of both of us. I blinked at it, surprised I’d already finished the first one.
“What do you think?” Dahlia asked, the barest flick of her eyes toward the women telling me what she was really asking.
“Interesting clientele you have today,” I said.
Dahlia leaned on the counter and gave me a small smirk. “Rumor has it that the High Fae are looking to make alliances. They’ve made known their intention of establishing a presence in the city.”
“And the witches can help with that?” I asked.
They weren’t Fae. They were too good at pretending to be human for that, and they lacked that extra something that most of the humanoid Fae had— something that compelled you to get closer to them and worship at their feet.
Dahlia lowered her chin in a small nod. “The witches don’t have as much raw power as the Fae, but because of their affinity for nature magic their powers are compatible. Together, they might be enough to establish a barrow here. It would be the first one of this modern age.”
“And that would be bad?” I made the sentence a question.
The corners of her eyes wrinkled. “The master of the city certainly seems to thinks so.”
So that answered why the Fae would want the witches as allies, but what did the witches get out of it besides a chance to stick it to the vampires?
Caroline’s eyes moved between the two of us. She leaned forward and stage whispered, “What’s a barrow?”
I paused. That was a good question.
We both looked expectantly at Dahlia who rolled her eyes. “The pocket realms the Fae establish are usually called barrows. If they were looking to settle a contingent here, they’d wish to create a place of magic that conformed to their whims. A barrow would give them that ability.”
I glanced in the mirror again, making sure my gaze didn’t linger on any of them too long. They were huddled together in what looked to be an intense conversation.
The one who’d seemed uncomfortable before, looked up and at me before ducking her head back down.
So, they suspected my interest on some level. They definitely weren’t stupid.
“I imagine they’d like to use the Fae for their own purposes.” She gave me a darkly significant look before moving down the bar.
I discarded the notion that they could be after me, particularly. I didn’t recognize any of the women. That meant it probably had something to do with vampires as a whole.
Thomas’s reign in the city was new. It could be some of its inhabitants would like to see him unseated. His policies had made him very unpopular and a lot of people were unhappy. The last vampire lord to control this territory had spent a good bit of his time in Chicago, leaving Columbus’ spooks the freedom to do what they want. Thomas had a much bigger presence here and the power to enforce his rules.
Caroline studied me, her forehead wrinkled in thought. “All right, I’m in.”
I gave her a sideways look, wondering what brought that on. “There’s nothing to be in for.”
She snorted. “You say that now, but pretty soon, interesting, dangerous things are going to start happening. You’ll need someone to watch your back.” Her grin widened as she grabbed my cheek with one hand, ruthlessly pinching it. “You defenseless baby, you.”
I batted her hand away, holding the offended cheek as I glared at her. “You’re just as much a baby as I am.”
Her shrug was rueful as she lifted her drink. “Let’s have a little fun tonight, shall we?”
There was a hint of vulnerability on her face, as if she expected me to throw her offer in her face. The thought had occurred to me.
It went against the instincts I’d built up over the last few years. It was almost second nature to refuse at this point. I’d gotten so used to going it alone that the offer of help made me stop and blink.
I sighed and gave in, picking up my glass and tapping it against hers. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”
Caroline’s mouth widened and she took a hasty sip before setting the drink back on the bar. She clapped her hands together and shot out of her chair. “I know just how to celebrate.”
“Oh no.” I made a grab for her, but she evaded, heading straight for the DJ. “Caroline, I’m not singing karaoke.”
A tall, thin man a few seats down the bar gave me a look filled with disdain. “Think you’re too good for us?”
I curled my lip, showing a fang. That seemed to shut him up. His mouth snapped closed and he looked away even as his friend shot me an unfriendly look.
Caroline bounced back to me, her energy infectious and spilling everywhere.
“I’m not singing,” I told her as soon as she reached me.
“Don’t worry. There’s at least ten people in front of us. Plenty of time for you to get a few more of these in you for liquid courage.” She held up the drink in question.
“You know I can’t get drunk on normal liquor, right?”
She nearly choked on the liquid, wiping it away as she gave me wide eyes. “No.”
“You probably can’t either.”
Werewolves had a fast metabolism. Her body would burn through alcohol faster than the drinks would get her drunk. Plus side—she could pretty much eat anything now and not gain a pound.
She stared down at her drink in what looked like sorrow. Her mouth firmed. “Tonight, we’re going to test that theory.”