The Novel Free

The Real Werewives of Vampire County





I wrinkled my nose. “In Vampire County?”



The humans called it Malibu.



It was where trophy wives went to die.



Or not die ... as the case may be.



Finnegan gave a tight smile. “I’ll remind you of my littermate who moved to Eternal Life Estates.”



I nodded. Sunshine McCarty, the bleached blonde, boob-enhanced darling of the pack. Growing up, she liked to tease me by pretending I was a boy.



As far as insults went, it was pathetic.



Let her yank out her eyebrows and wobble around on stiletto heels that, let’s face it, would make it impossible to knee anyone in the balls. I liked to keep my options open.



I studied the olive-skinned gardener. I didn’t get why any were—or this human for that matter—would move in with the vampires. Sure, it beat Botox. Once you married a vampire, you stopped aging. Trophy wives for centuries.



Ridiculous.



I blew a few strands of hair out of my mouth. No matter what I did, my hair always ended up in my face. “What do you want to know?”



Finnegan folded his arms over his chest. “Sunshine was killed three nights ago.”



I shook my head, not sure what to say. Comforting words weren’t exactly in my nature. Not that the Alpha would want to hear them anyway.



He gave me a long look, the candles flickering shadows over his burly features. “She was murdered.”



Now that surprised me. If Sunshine had been willing to chip a nail, she could have gone up against any were. Unless she’d come face-to-fang with her vampire husband.



“How did it happen?” I asked.



“Crushed to death.”



Ouch.



Finnegan tugged on his beard. “We’ve kept it out of the papers. The pack won’t know until we get justice.” He stood behind the visibly shaking man. “It happened yesterday afternoon.”



That ruled out a vampire, at least directly.



“This is our witness,” Finnegan continued. “His name is Marcos.”



I studied the man, glad to be back in familiar territory. “Let me guess. He’s not talking.” We’d change that.



Poor sap.



I tilted my head, my boots grinding grave dirt into the stones as I approached. “What did you see, friend?”



The man shook his head, a thin sheen of sweat slicking his forehead. “N-nothing. I was trimming the hedges.”



“Her hedges?”



“The hedges! I heard a loud noise. I ran. Upstairs.” His eyes darted away. “That’s where I found her.” His lower lip trembled. “Under her bathroom chandelier.”



I resisted the urge to ponder the idea of a chandelier in the bathroom. I swallowed hard, locking eyes with the man in the chair as I unleashed a magnetic power from low in my chest. “What did you hear?” I felt the buzzing in my head, the dry tightness in the back of my throat. Marcos and I were connected, as if by a thin wire.



“A woman’s voice,” he said, clearly surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth. “I could barely understand her. She said that Sunny deserved what she got. And then she got even angrier. She said, ‘and I hate your lawn.’ ”



Finnegan rushed to the bound man’s side. “Who was it? Did you see her?”



My mind reeled as if he’d smacked me upside the head.



“Finnegan.” I cringed. He knew better.



He halted, but he didn’t apologize. Being an Alpha meant never saying you were sorry.



Head clanging, I asked the question. “Did you see who was in the bathroom?”



“No.” He winced. “I was tied to the bed.”



“Of course you were,” I said, throwing up a warning finger at my leader. If he jarred my mind again, I was going to lose our witness. And because Finnegan knew the stakes, I got away with it.



I turned back to the gardener. “How often did you have sex with the victim?”



“Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Whenever I worked.”



“Son of a bitch!” Finnegan swore behind me.



“Did her husband find out about your sex-capades?” I asked.



Vampires tended to be intensely sexual, and not particularly good at sharing. Then again, if the husband knew, he probably would have just eaten poor Marcos.



The gardener trembled, his eyes wild. “Her husband was too busy with his own mistress.”



“Who was?” I prodded deeper.



He was sweating heavily. “Sunny wasn’t sure,” he said on an exhale. “She only knew it was one of the other Predators.”



My head was pounding now, but I had to hold on. “Who are the Predators?



“Five shifters.” He caught himself. “Well, now there are four: Francine, Nina, Bliss and their whipping girl, Tia.”



“Gotcha.” I glanced up at Finnegan. “We’ll start there.”



My vision swam and I felt my hold loosening. I broke our contact. “I’m done.”



My record was five minutes. This? Well, this was the best I could do tonight. My head throbbed. It would only get worse. Tapping minds gave me a hangover like I’d downed a fifth of SoCo. Not that I’d ever voluntarily do that to myself.



“Nice work.”



Shaking, I folded my hands behind my back and lowered my chin to the Alpha.



“Very nice indeed,” said a man’s voice, smooth as glass.



I whipped a dagger out of the back of my pants as a vampire emerged from the shadows behind me.



Panic shot through me. Why hadn’t I smelled him? Why hadn’t I seen him? My blood ran hot.



Finnegan must have blocked him from me. I didn’t understand.



He was taller than I would have liked. Leaner. His shoulders were wide, his stance confident. This one was going to be a bitch to take down.



Finnegan raised his hand. “Hold back, McPhee.”



“He’s a vampire.” I might be able to get hold of him by the hair. It was clipped short and blond.



“McPhee—” Finnegan’s tone was a direct order. “This is Lucien Mead. My guest.” He put an emphasis on that last word.



The vampire bowed at my pack leader’s introduction. A hint of a grin gave him an almost boyish charm. A swirl of desire wound through me. Leftover adrenaline, no doubt.



Get it together. Hot or not, he was still a vampire. A fucking bloodsucker! I wasn’t going to be seduced and bitten.



Even mosquitoes had more integrity than that.



The Alpha was not amused. “Lose the knife and say hello.”



I gritted my teeth. If Finnegan was okay with the vampire, he must be working with the pack.



“Hello, Lucien.”



I couldn’t quite bring myself to put away the knife. Not yet. He was easy on the eyes. In fact, he reminded me of Iceman from Top Gun. He had that look, and that cool confidence.



“How did you do it?” he asked, his eyes raking over me.



“McPhee’s power is a pack secret,” Finnegan said, as if he knew how I did what I did. Hell, I didn’t even know. Finnegan stood his ground in front of the vampire, who was a full foot taller than the Alpha. “Do you want us or not?”



Lucien gave a long, slow grin. “All right. I’ll take her.”



My head hurt for a whole new reason. “Take me?” He couldn’t take me. I had a pack. I had a home.



Sensing my urge to bolt, Finnegan laid a hand on my shoulder. “It’s only temporary. We need someone to go undercover.”



I’d never been undercover.



Lucien drew too close for comfort. “I need a were to pose as my wife.”



“Hell, no.”



Finnegan continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “You two will be the newest couple to move into Eternal Life Estates.”



“I’d rather eat glass.”



Finnegan’s hand tightened on my shoulder. “You’ll be going to Malibu, McPhee. Haven’t you always wanted to see Malibu?”



“No.” I had everything I needed right here in the canyon.



“Nevertheless, your skills are required,” Lucien said. “We have a window of opportunity. A new couple was set to move into Eternal Life Estates. We’ve commandeered the house for the investigation. However, it will be tight. Mr. and Mrs. Duke are scheduled to arrive tomorrow evening.”



“You and Detective Mead will pose as the Dukes,” Finnegan said.



“Detective?” I stared at the vampire. “What are you, some sort of undead Columbo?”



Lucien grinned. “You could say that. I report to the Vampire Council.”



Lovely. Even if the man was some kind of an eternal cop, he couldn’t just drag me into this. “Aren’t there protocols? Rules?”



“Yes,” Finnegan growled. “Obey your pack master.”



Had he lost his mind? “In case you two haven’t noticed, I’m not the trophy wife type.”



“Lower the dagger,” Finnegan snapped.



Oh yeah. I hadn’t noticed I’d been waving my knife. I pulled it back and used it to clean a wedge of dirt out from under my ring fingernail.



This was ridiculous. How was I supposed to be a Sunny clone? He’d better not make me wear a girdle.
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