Bled & Breakfast (3 page)

“None. Sorry.”

Thierry frowned. “Owen, you said that Monique was over three hundred. How about the other two?”

“I think they were up there as well.” Owen nodded.

“Hmm. All master vampires.”

A little Vampire 101: vampires were considered fledglings for their first fifty years, regular vampires till they were three hundred. After that, they’d earned the title of “master.”

“If these vampires didn’t just go missing, but were murdered, none of them would have left any body behind,” I said. Only vampires less than a century in age left a body when they were killed. Older ones disintegrated into a gooey mess. Trust me—it wasn’t pretty. “Therefore, there’d be no clues to find out who did it.”

“Correct,” Thierry replied.

“So basically, the Ring’s handed you a case that’s pretty much impossible to figure out.”

He held my gaze. “Essentially.”

“A test,” Owen said after a moment. “The Ring loves handing out tests to determine a consultant’s worth in his first few assignments.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” I said. “What if we fail?”

Thierry’s lips thinned. “Let me worry about that, Sarah.”

“Just your saying ‘Let me worry about that’ makes me worry. About that.”

“Don’t. It’ll be fine. I know how to handle them.”

“Yeah,” Owen breathed. “Good luck with that. Sarah, have you ever met any of the current Ring elders?”

I grimaced. “Haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Keep it that way.”

Yeah. That was really comforting.

We unloaded our small amount of luggage in the room, then went back downstairs with Heather and Owen. It was well after eight o’clock by now, and the sun was starting to set. Rose had come back inside and was dusting the table near the front door.

“Where are you off to now?” she asked Owen as he made for the door.

He gave her a wink. “Places to go, Rose, my love. People to see. Life is good.”

Heather picked up Hoppy from the desktop and cradled the toad in her arms like a tiny dog. Hoppy seemed perfectly content there.

“Anyway, Thierry, if you need any help”—Owen raked his hand through his blond hair—“you have my number.”

Thierry nodded. “We’ll take a look around town tomorrow when everything’s open.”

Owen paused at the doorway. He pressed his hand against his forehead, his brows drawing together.

“Something wrong?” Heather asked with concern.

“No, it’s just . . . a headache. I’m sure it’ll pass.”

“Maybe Miranda got one of those voodoo dolls after all,” I said. “And she’s stabbing its forehead with an ice pick as we speak.”

He laughed. “Yeah, maybe. Anyway, it’s nothing. Talk to you later.”

He pushed open the front door and took two steps onto the porch.

A weird chill shivered down my arms, which was odd since it wasn’t the least bit cold outside.

“Owen,” Thierry began, “what’s wrong?”

Owen pressed his hands to either side of his head.

“It’s weird. I just get the strange feeling that—” He gasped. “What’s happening to me?”

Without another word, he stopped talking, turned away, and started to run. He got halfway down the driveway before he dropped to his knees.

And then, as if somebody had just shoved a wooden stake through his heart, he disintegrated like the Wicked Witch of the West right before our eyes.

One moment he was there.

The next . . . he was dead.

S
ince he’d been a vampire for more than a hundred years, Owen left no body behind, only a grue
some black stain on the interlocking brick of the B and B’s driveway.

Stunned and sickened, I clutched the sleeve of Thierry’s black jacket. “What happened?”

Heather began to shriek in horror and was about to run out to where Owen’s remains were, but Rose held her back.

“Owen!” she wailed.

“Oh no!” Rose’s eyes were also wide with shock as she pulled her granddaughter into a comforting embrace. “Honey, it’s horrible. But . . . he’s gone. We can’t help him now.”

“I’ll take a look around,” Thierry said, a grim look on his face.

“Take a look around?” I blurted out. “Are you crazy? The same thing could happen to you!”

“I need to check.”

“No. You need to stay here with me.”

He touched my face. “You stay here. Look after Heather and Rose. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

“Thierry!”

Before I could stay anything else, he slipped out of my grasp and headed down the driveway. I watched him, frightened that he was about to vanish right before my eyes.

I don’t think I actually breathed for three minutes after he left my view. Finally, he returned and met my angry but relieved glare.

“You scared me!” I exhaled shakily. “Did you find anything?”

“Nothing,” he told me. “Nobody. And there are no weapons near the place he expired.”

“Then what happened?”

“A spell,” Heather said, her voice garbled and hard to understand. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Someone did a spell to kill him from a distance. It had to be Miranda. Oh, my God. Owen. Owen’s gone!”

She let go of her grandmother and clung to me. I didn’t let go of her. I felt horrible for this girl I’d only just met, who’d lost someone who meant something to her—so suddenly, so unexpectedly.

Miranda Collins had threatened Owen in front of all of us, but did I think she was the one responsible for this? She wasn’t a nice person by any means, but I didn’t think she was that stupid.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as Heather’s tears soaked into my shirt. “I know you cared about him.”

“I didn’t just care about him. I loved him.” She pulled back and stared into my eyes. “I
loved
him. And I never told him.”

My heart wrenched. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Owen.” She ran her hand under her nose, but there was now a resolution in her gaze pushing past the pain and grief. “I need to tell him how I felt. And I’m going to find out who did this to him—and if it’s Miranda, then she’s going to pay.”

I frowned at her. “How are you going to tell him how you felt? He’s . . . I’m sorry, but he’s gone.”

“His spirit isn’t gone. Not yet. A séance,” she said firmly. “I’ll do one at midnight. It’s when the magic is the strongest. I can summon his spirit.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Sure it is,” Thierry said.

I looked at him with surprise. “Excuse me?”

He regarded Heather very seriously. “Do you honestly believe you have the power to summon Owen’s spirit?”

The weak girl I’d met earlier was fading away, leaving behind one much more determined. “I can damn well try.”

“Then do it. Sarah and I will be there, too.”

“You will?”

“We will?” I raised an eyebrow.

His jaw was set. “Yes. Because whatever happened to Owen may be the exact same thing that happened to the other three missing vampires. And if that’s true, then it means something very important—and very dangerous—about Salem.”

“What?”

“That there is an alpha witch in town. One capable of death magic, one who can kill from a distance. One who is specifically targeting vampires. The Ring will want to know about a threat like this and take steps to deal with it.”

“How many alphas are still around?” I asked. “Is this something that anybody would know?”

“There’s none,” Rose said. “There aren’t any of those witches left—not in this country, anyway.”

“None?” I repeated with shock. “Why not?”

“Witch hunters,” Thierry said simply. “They’ve been very adept at their jobs over the years. But if an alpha escaped their attention and is killing vampires, then it’s a problem.”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll say. But if anyone finds out what we are . . .”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Heather assured us, taking small, shaky breaths. Her eyes were red and shiny with tears.

“Me, too,” Rose agreed. “I won’t tell anyone. I swear it.”

My mouth was dry. If vampires were being killed in Salem—just for being vampires—then we were in serious trouble from somebody able to kill from a distance.

Adventure and romance,
that fortune-teller had promised earlier. I really wished she’d been a bit more specific.

•   •   •

Thierry and I went up to the room alone and I closed the door behind us. I sat down on the edge of the bed and clasped my hands together, trying my best to calm down. I caught his expression in the mirror—it was grim. Then again, grim was a typical look for him.

Since I wasn’t a mind reader, I decided to go ahead and ask. “Is it safe for us to stay here?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t seem happy about that at all. “But I’m not ready to leave. Not yet. Nobody knows who we are—
what
we are. I want to explore Salem tomorrow and see if we can find anything useful.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Then we leave.”

“What about the Ring? Are you going to call them?”

“No. Not yet, anyway. Letting them know Owen’s fate before we know any further details would raise an alarm. They could overcompensate, and we really don’t want that.”

“Understood.” I didn’t really, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to. “I noticed you didn’t suggest I hightail it out of here and leave you to check things out by yourself.”

His lips curved even though his gray eyes remained serious. “I know you well enough by now to presume that would be a futile suggestion.”

“Smart guy.” I sighed and moved toward the window to look outside. From where I stood I could see the exact spot where Owen had met his Maker, since there was a black stain there now, kind of like a small, gory oil slick of death. I shuddered. “You didn’t like him.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I felt a definite vibe of dislike.”

Thierry managed a small laugh at that. “I didn’t dislike Owen. However, his lifestyle choices leaned toward the hedonistic and frivolous, often to the detriment of anyone who relied on him. I suppose I found him selfish more than anything else. But I never would have wished him dead.”

I was glad to hear that. Somebody could be a scummy person in a whole lot of ways, but that didn’t mean they were evil down deep. “Heather saw the good in him.”

“There was good in him.”

“I think there’s good in just about everyone. It’s simply a question of whether it’s enough to outweigh the bad.”

“Exactly.” He met my gaze. “You look surprised that I agree with you.”

“Not surprised, exactly. You’re just all . . . optimistic and positive today. Nearly shiny, really.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Now, let’s not get carried away.”

I almost laughed out loud at that. My cell phone suddenly let out a buzzing sound. I pulled it out of my bag and looked down at the screen.

CALL ME AS SOON AS YOU CAN. SAY NOTHING TO THIERRY.—MR

I swallowed hard.

“Something important?” Thierry asked.

“No, it’s just . . . Amy,” I lied. It was the name of my best friend from back home. “She wants me to call her back and it can’t wait.” I laughed nervously. “You know Amy.”

I escaped from the room without any more lies spilling from my lips and hurried downstairs to a far corner of the bed-and-breakfast. My hands were now sweating.

I couldn’t delay getting back to him. Markus Reed, the Ring’s most accomplished and deadly enforcer, wouldn’t be too happy about that.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Sarah,” he said. “How are you finding Salem?”

“Witchtastic, thanks.” I forced myself to sound calm. “What do you want, Markus?”

Unless he was psychic, there was no way he knew what had happened to Owen. And since Thierry wasn’t planning to contact the Ring with that information—at least not yet—I wasn’t going to say a thing.

“I know it hasn’t been very long at all since our deal, but I’m thinking you’re in a prime spot to find out more information.”

A shiver went down my spine.

A “deal” made it sound so innocent. Like I was buying a used car through Craigslist. Only this was the kind that came with a body in the trunk.

Here’s the thing. Despite Markus being a deadly kind of guy, he wasn’t a villain. He was actually extremely good at his job, the kind of scary grim-reaper type you’d want on your side if faced with adversity, but terrifying if you crossed him.

Markus had done a favor for me in Vegas by retrieving my stolen engagement ring from an underground-dwelling street kid vamp. In return, he wanted information.

Information about Thierry’s past.

“I don’t know anything yet,” I whispered. “I mean, it’s been, what, a whole two days since you asked me for this? Who do you think I am, Houdini?”

“It was in Salem that Thierry was last seen before he disappeared for fifty years.”

My brows shot up. “It was?”

“Yes. And it was also there where he resurfaced five decades later. Since you’re there, we want you to find out more about this. The elders are very interested in this information.”

My grip on the phone tightened. “Why do they care? Thierry’s been around for nearly seven centuries. What do fifty unaccounted years matter in the grand scheme of things?”

“It’s not for me to say, but they want to know. Right now, the only one who would know the answer to this is your husband himself.”

“Then you should ask him yourself instead of sending me cryptic messages.”

“I thought you were going to be helpful, Sarah. Don’t you want to make sure Thierry’s term with the Ring runs smoothly?”

Of course I did. There was no question about it. They had a bat in their bonnet about where he’d gone during those fifty years, during which nobody had seen or heard from him. Frankly, I was curious, too.

“I’ll see what I can find out,” I said halfheartedly. “But I can’t promise anything.”

“I know you’ll do your best.”

“Oh really? And how do you know that?”

“Because I’m certain you don’t want anything bad to happen to your new husband.”

The line clicked.

“Yeah, well,” I spoke into the phone, furious now, “why don’t you stick your passive-aggressive threats right up your—”

“I’m still here, Sarah.”

My stomach sank. “I thought you hung up.”

“Obviously. Bottom line, Sarah, it’s in your best interest to get me this information as soon as possible. Do you understand me?”

My mouth was nearly too dry to form words. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.”

This time
I
ended the call.

I slowly made my way back up to the room while my thoughts raced. Thierry had “disappeared” here in Salem in the seventeenth century and hadn’t been seen or heard from until fifty years later. It sounded like something that had a simple answer, although I couldn’t think what it could possibly be.

The Ring wanted to know the truth.

I hated keeping secrets from Thierry—from anybody, really. I was terrible at it, always had been. Friends had rarely trusted me more than once or twice with any of their intimate details, usually because when I was younger I’d end up blurting it to my next friend before I even realized what I’d done. My mouth had always lacked a filter.

But this wasn’t an innocent secret. And I’d do whatever I could to help Thierry and keep him safe from the Ring, whom I had no doubt would go to extremely unpleasant lengths to get what they wanted, whatever it might be.

Thierry was on his laptop computer when I entered the small room. I went directly to the vanity and sat down in front of it, digging into my purse for a brush. I began to violently brush the tangles out of my hair.

“How’s Amy?” Thierry asked.

“She’s, um, just peachy.”

“Right.” There was a long pause. “Who were you really speaking to just now, Sarah?”

My brush froze in midstroke. I caught his gaze in the reflection of the special mirror. “What do you mean? I was talking to Amy.”

“I don’t believe you.”

My throat was tight. “You think I’m lying to you?”

He nodded. “Lying is not one of your strongest talents. I can tell every time you attempt it.”

“I resent that.”

“Resent it all you like. It’s still true.”

I pointed my brush at him. “I’m a very good liar.”

“Perhaps. But still, you’re lying right now about who you spoke to. And I would like to know why.”

The man had a talent for pinning me with those intense gray eyes of his, like a brunette butterfly he’d collected on an afternoon walk. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

I stood up and began pacing the small room. “How can you sound so calm right now?”

He cocked his head. “Should I be otherwise?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Owen just got killed by a witch’s death spell and is splattered all over Heather’s driveway. We’re stuck in a town that has a murderous alpha witch lurking somewhere. A witch hunter’s ghost was giving me the evil eye earlier. And now I’m lying to you about who I spoke to on the phone.”

“So now you’re admitting it.”

I hissed out a breath. “Fine. It was Markus Reed.”

His gray eyes widened a fraction as he took this in. “Interesting.”

“I tell you the Ring’s favorite enforcer is contacting me out of the blue and you think it’s
interesting
?”

“You seem rather distressed about this.”

I wrung my hands. “You could say that.”

“Tell me.” His expression turned serious and he got up from his seat by the window. He touched my chin to raise my gaze to lock with his. “What does he want from you?”

With Thierry it was really hard to tell what he was thinking if you went only by his expression. He’d had a long time to perfect the ability to appear unreadable.