Stake and Dust (Stake and Dust series, Book I) (3 page)

He'd purchased the pub ten years ago when it
had been in dire need of a facelift. He'd gutted it, hired locals
to help out on the renovations, and in six months, he had his baby
in tip-top shape. Oak floors shined bright beneath impressive old
world chandeliers. Cozy booths provided comfort for those who
wanted a private atmosphere versus the line up seating at the
bar.

Not only did Eternal Bliss serve beers on
tap, wine, and
specialty
drinks for his Otherworldy
clientele at the pub, they also served lunch and dinner specials
daily.

His employees included four waitresses, two
bartenders, not including himself, four dishwashers and two cooks.
All human and people he couldn't do without.

"The table in the corner wants another round
of beers," Georgina told him. The twenty something waitress was a
natural blonde – or so he heard her claim. She was working her way
through college, and had a loser boyfriend she should dump.

"Coming right up," Tremayne told her.

Once Georgina had her order, she headed
toward the table to deliver the drinks.

The front door opened and closed. Sheerin and
Bram had entered the pub and headed over to him. Both were from the
Oiche Sith sept, original vampires and centuries old. He'd grown up
with these two, fought in a few wars that made history weep.

Bram, dark haired and blue-eyed, was the
first among them to take a human mate and turn her with success.
Adryanna, the auburn hair beauty was truly Bram's better half, if
anyone cared to know. They bought a house just recently and planned
to make the Hamptons their home again. They'd lived in New York in
1897, when the Waldorf-Astoria had been a site to see. It was long
gone now like so many other majestic buildings.

Sheerin, his other cousin, for lack of a
better term to use for his sept brothers, possessed thick blond
hair that could almost be called white in color. The brainiac had
come up with the idea for the synthetic blood blend and had a hand
in perfecting the process with the help of a few other colleagues,
all vampires of course. The wine concoction was what the vampire
septs relied on for nourishment, and it hit the market with
success. It made living among the humans easier for the vampires
who did not have mates and for those who were hybrids turned on
purpose or by accident to survive without the risk of killing a
human when hunger struck.

The synthetic blood had been a blessing to
keep the peace between humans and vampires. The Guards of Judgment
hunted the septs that didn't follow the rules. No preternatural
being lasted long if the supernatural assassins showed up on their
doorstep to dole out their special justice. He wasn't sure which
was worse: hunters or the GOJ. WFTL were probably the most
forgiving of the fractions, trying to balance the Otherworldly
beings activities in a human world, but it didn't mean he'd ever
want to cross them either.

Bram and Sheerin took a seat at the bar.
After the pleasantries were through and drinks served, Tremayne
decided to mention his interesting night thus far.

"I should warn you a hunter is in town
investigating those kidnappings I mentioned to you. Three have been
found by the way."

"Alive?" Bram asked. "And why would this
concern us?" he added.

"No, to your first question," he said. "And
to your second question, the hunter is a Hayes."

"A Hayes?" Sheerin piped up with interest.
"It must be serious if the
Preternatural Regulating Bureau
sent a top-notch hunter into the mix." Sheerin rested his arms on
the counter and leaned forward to lower his voice, but still be
heard. "Do we know who he's hunting?"

"No, and
he
is a
she
."

"A lass is it?" Sheerin's lips curved. "I
haven't seen a female hunter in ages. I've come to realize, they're
more lethal than the males." He dug his hand into the inside pocket
of his coat and pulled out a leather-bound notebook. Next, a pen
materialized. "This one is for the books," he told him.

Tremayne shook his head. If he didn't know
better he'd swear Sheerin was a distant cousin to the Watchers, the
Nephilim bastards, the sons and daughters of The Fallen Angels.
They used to record history in grand books before they headed the
WFTL. Sheerin could put them to shame with the notes and
observations he'd jotted down in his notebooks.

"What does this hunter look like?" Sheerin
asked, eager to write down the description.

"I don't know. Spoke with her on the phone."
He reached below the counter and clasped the mobile he lifted from
the dead hunter. He placed it in front of Bram. "This belonged to
Mr. Green. Hayes was supposed to meet-up with him."

"And you know this because?" Bram asked, his
left eyebrow arching in question.

"Let's say I answered the phone and she
thought she was chatting with the bloke."

Bram chuckled. "Surely, you jest. Why would
you do such a fool thing?"

Tremayne had been wondering the same thing
for the last few hours, but what was done was done. He couldn't
change it. "Spare me the lectures, Bram. I'll deal with the hunter
when she arrives. I just wanted to give you both the heads up so
you wouldn't ruin my cover."

"Which is?" Bram asked.

"I'm Green working undercover here as
Tremayne Greer, the pub owner of Eternal Bliss until I can send the
hunter on her merry way."

This time both Sheerin and Bram laughed.

"Is this why you called and wanted
information about this guy, so you can take on his identity?"

"Aye, and I fail to see what is so humorous,"
he hissed.

Bram still wore a smirk on his face when he
spoke, irritating him further. "How in the world are you going to
pull off being this Mr. Green? Doesn't she know what the gent looks
like?"

"Give me some credit. She's never met the
bloke."

"And where is the real Mr. Green?" Sheerin
asked.

Tremayne ran a hand through his hair and
cringed. "At the bottom of the ocean." Both Bram and Sheerin looked
aghast at the thought, and he quickly explained: "Green was already
dead when I came across him. Found him in the alley next to the
dumpster when I arrived to open up the pub tonight."

"Not exactly a great promoter for the
business," Bram said.

"No," he agreed. "So…do you have the info on
the guy or not?"

"I have it," Bram said and slipped his hand
into his coat pocket. He handed him a folded paper. "Found most of
the info on the Preternatural Regulator Bureau's database. Makes it
nice that I know a guy who knows a guy…"

Tremayne scanned the info. "Mr. Green has a
sister still living, an ex-wife…no children."

"He was sent here because he was running away
from the ex-wife," Bram said. "Seems she wants him back, but he
doesn't want her. Though Green's been spreading the rumor he was
sent to the States because of a dalliance he had with a superior's
daughter."

Tremayne stared at Bram. "How in the world
did you find out that much information?"

He shrugged. "I have my ways. But it also
helped that his crazy ex-wife liked to chat."

"What?" He wasn't sure if he should be
impressed or horrified that he took the risk. "You called his
ex?"

"Don't worry. She thinks I'm with the bureau
here and I told her we weren't sure he'd be a good match and we
were interviewing people who knew him. I was surprised at the
earful I received. The woman hates him as much as she fancies she's
in love with him. No wonder Green ran."

The front door to the pub opened and a woman
wearing a button down shirt, jeans and boots to match her leather
jacket, waltzed in with an air of authority. "She's here," he said,
more to himself, but Sheerin and Bram heard him and turned in their
seats to chance a look at the hunter in question.

"How do you know it's her if you've never met
the hunter?" Sheerin gave him a sideway glance.

"She has the Hayes family cat-like eyes."

"What do you mean?" Sheerin asked.

"He's run into the Hayes family before," Bram
explained. "Centuries ago, mind you, when he was hunting a vampire
who had chose to embrace the bloodlust."

"Nasty times," Sheerin said. "Those rogues
are the vampires that have caused villagers to pick up pitchforks
and stakes." He shook his head in disgust.

"According to Tremayne," Bram said, "the
Hayes clan possesses unusual eyes."

Tremayne nodded. "Cassandra looks every bit a
Hayes with her dark mahogany tresses and light green eyes with no
other colors marring the pattern."

Bram and Sheerin exchanged a look. "If I
didn't know better," Bram said, "I'd believe you were smitten."

"She's a hunter," he grumbled. "I'm being
observant."

"If you say so." Bram turned around
completely in his seat and leaned his back against the bar, most
likely to get a better look at the hunter for himself.

"Even if there wasn't the strong family
resemblance, the real cincher is on display. Cast your gazes on the
necklace she has dangling around her pretty little neck."

"So?" Bram lifted his shoulders. "She's into
Celtic jewelry. So are half of the twenty-something year olds
across the country."

"It's a hunter's crest. Yeah, she might as
well stand on the barstool and shout:
I'm a hunter. So all
preternatural beings beware!"

The Hayes family could trace their roots back
to the fourteenth century. Each member was trained to take down
demons, werewolves, and of course, their real passion was hunting
down vampire septs. Cassandra most likely received her first
vampire kit on her fifth birthday, stocked full of wooden stakes
and holy water. A stake could do considerable damage, but holy
water?
Really?
Unless the hunter wanted to give the vampire
a bath, nothing else would happen. No sizzle and pop, just a pissed
off vampire. No one liked water thrown in his or her face.

"She's lovely," Sheerin scribbled something
on the notepad, most likely a description of Cassandra Hayes to be
followed up by a sketch.

"She's spotted you," Bram turned in his seat
with a grin. "And heading this way," he added for good measure.

"Did you believe my eyesight had been
impaired by her beauty?" Tremayne hissed with a thick Irish lilt to
his words. "Of course I see her bee-lining it over to the bar,
eejit."

"Tsk, tsk," Bram shook his head and his blue
eyes twinkled with mischief. "Don't get your hoses in a twist, or
your eyes may start glowing red. I would so hate to see you staked
in your own pub."

"Bite me," he said beneath his breath, making
Bram chuckle.

The hunter plopped down on a stool. Thank
goodness it wasn't one closer to Bram and Sheerin or she might come
face to face with his vamp side of his existence. Wouldn't that be
a show? He could hear it now.
Slaying at Eternal Bliss. News at
eleven.

He sighed heavily. "Here goes nothing," he
said to Bram and Sheerin as he left them and strode closer to where
the lovely hunter had taken a seat. "May I start a tab for you?" he
asked.

"Mr. Green?" Cassandra Hayes kept her voice
low and her eyes fixed on him.

"Tremayne Greer, remember?" He winked and her
dark ruddy brows furrowed. "Undercover," he reminded her.

"Ah, yes." She glanced to the right of
her—where Sheerin and Bram were seated at the end of the bar. "Is
it all right to speak freely here?"

God's breath, the woman was a beauty, even
with her ridiculous hairdo of pencils masquerading as adornments to
keep her hair in a bun. He itched to remove the pencils and see how
those gorgeous strands looked framing her winsome face. "Aye, speak
your mind, lass."

Her gaze riveted to his. "Is that accent
real?" Then she waved her hand. "Of course it is. You're from one
of the European branches overseas."

"Why did you want to meet with me,
Mrs
. Hayes?"

"Miss Hayes," she corrected, "but call me
Cassandra."

His lips slid into a grin at the knowledge
she wasn't married. "All right, Cassandra." He much rather be on a
first name basis with her. Heck, he wished he had met her under
different circumstances, though with her being a hunter and him
being her potential prey… Yep, probably wouldn't work out.

"I think it would be in both our best
interest if we work together," she told him.

He failed to see the benefit other than he'd
have a chance to see her on a daily basis.
No, he couldn't. It
would be a mistake. Big mistake.
"You're probably right," he
found himself saying before he could shutdown the idea.

From the other end of the bar, Tremayne heard
Sheerin choke on his drink, but he ignored him and kept his eyes
fixed on Cassandra. She proved much prettier to look at anyway.

"What should we do next?" he asked, curious
to know how she would proceed with the hunt.

She nodded as if his compliance met with her
approval. "Where did you last come in contact with the vamp?"

Bram cleared his throat and Tremayne resisted
the urge to roll his eyes. He wished his cousins would take a seat
elsewhere. They were distracting him.

"Here?" he said, but it sounded more like a
question. Fortunately, she didn't seem to notice.

"Precisely. You have a great setup for your
undercover work." She leaned on the counter and turned in her seat
so she had a clear view of the place.

"Aye," he said.

She whirled around to face him again. "So
what does the vamp look like?"

"Uh...it was dark." If he did have a
description and the vamped showed up, did she plan on actually
walking up to said vamp and staking him right in front of the
patrons?

A tired sigh left those full kissable lips.
"I need this kill, Mr. Green." His gaze met hers. "It's the first
time I've been allowed to hunt on my own. Overprotective brothers,"
she explained and rolled her eyes.