Stake and Dust (Stake and Dust series, Book I) (6 page)

Tremayne's gaze shifted to her mouth before
he sighed. "Point taken, Miss Hayes. Good thing we stopped with
just a kiss then. Aye?" He winked at her and she felt the heat rise
from her neck to her cheeks, but she refused to acknowledge his
remark.

"Anyway… The vamp could lure in the next
victim and perhaps she even shares. Who knows, maybe they get off
on pleasing each other with their appetite to kill." Her eyes
shifted and he followed her gaze to the portrait hanging over the
bottles of beer and wine. "So do you know if that is what a Lamia
truly looks like in her preternatural form?" she asked with a tilt
of her head as she eyed the portrait with a new interest.

"Aye," he said slowly with a frown. "Legend
states the Lamia's victims were sailors who sang ballads at
sea."

"Probably not many sailors who sing ballads
these days. Guess our Lamia is picking her guys up on land."

"Perhaps we've deduced the Lamia's reason for
keeping company with a vampire."

"I see where you're going," Cassandra said
with a nod. "He ventures inland and leads the victims to her." She
glanced at her watch and noticed the time was fast approaching one
in the morning. "We'll stake out the wharf in shifts. "Do you want
to take the dayshift? Say 2 PM to 6 PM, so you can get some
shuteye?"

"Uh…no."

"No? Don't you need to tend to the bar in the
evenings?"

"I do, but I have a staff that can run the
pub for a few days. The wharf is a bit tricky at night. I would
feel better if I took the late nightshift. It by no means is any
reflection on your ability to fend for yourself," he hurried to
explain. "As you pointed out, the Lamia prefers the male species,
and she'll be much stronger when the moon colors the night
sky."

Her lips curved. "Flowery talk will
definitely draw the Lamia in your direction." He frowned and she
realized he wasn't trying to be funny. "
The moon colors the
night sky,"
she offered a hint to what she was referring to.
"
Mr. Poet
, you do have a way with words, is all I'm
saying."

"Must be me mum's influence," he said with an
over exaggerated Irish accent and then grinned. "She'd charm her
wee ones with stories and legends."

She couldn't help but smile, too. She really
liked Tremayne. She wished she could have met him under different
circumstances where they could actually go out on a date, but now
was not the time for fantasies. Her gaze took in his exquisite
perfection with just a touch of wildness, and she sighed with
regret. "I'll catch a few hours of sleep then," she told him. "I'll
take the day shift. I'll visit the morgue too. See if I can find
out any information on where our victims spent their last days."
She stood then and tapped the counter three times for good luck.
Something her father would do when he headed out on a job, and a
hunter could always do with a little extra luck.

Her parents were working overseas right now,
but thought they'd be home for Christmas. She remembered as a child
staying with relatives while they hunted. Her parents lived and
breathed hunting and their duty to the society of hunters. She
didn't have much of a normal childhood because of it.

She had her first weapon at the age of five,
a small dagger that felt like a sword in her hands. Her training
started then. Her father pushed her hard to learn all the
techniques to keep her safe from an Otherworldy attack. Her
brothers were treated the same. It was kill or be killed in a
hunter's family.

"You okay?" Tremayne asked with concern.

"Peachy." She nodded. "I'll keep you posted
if I find out anything new."

"I'll do the same," he said.

She turned away intent on heading out of the
pub and back to her hotel to do some research.

"Miss Hayes," Tremayne called to her and she
turned.

"Hmm?" She met his eyes that twinkled with
mischief.

"Thanks for the lesson and the kiss." He
winked and gave her a full out smile that revealed his dimple.

"My pleasure," she said, and it had been.
She'd like to teach him a few more things, but she had a hunch
Tremayne had already mastered most of what she knew and more, but
if he didn't kiss and tell, she wouldn't either.

She successfully weaved her way through the
crowd and toward the door without incident, but she had the
strangest feeling Tremayne watched her every move. Standing in the
archway, she glanced over her shoulder and felt a tinge of
disappointment curl around her. Tremayne wasn't looking at her at
all. He was pouring a drink for one of the men seated at the bar
and laughing at something he said.

"Just because you're interested, doesn't mean
he is," she murmured under her breath and stepped outside. A cool
breeze met her, scented with the sea. Not an unpleasant odor, but
one she associated with home. With her condo being within walking
distance to Huntington Beach, she often walked the pier –
alone
. It would be nice if sometimes she had a
companion.

Linking arms with Tremayne came to mind.
Good-looking hunk of a man by her side and strolling down the
boardwalk… Yep, not going to happen, but she could dream.

Chapter Seven

Tremayne appreciated Cassandra's sure walk as
she maneuvered her way through the crowd and out the door of his
pub. He also admired her tenacious attitude, her ability to hold
her own in a fight, and her snarky banter. If she were an Oiche
Sith, he'd consider pursuing her. He halted his thoughts right
there and frowned. What exactly did he think would come of his
daydreaming about something that could never be? He flirted with
danger, literally when he challenged her to a kiss. A kiss he might
add that left him wanting so much more. Just one more thing to add
to Cassandra's many talents.

Good thing Miss Cassandra Hayes hadn't caught
him staring after her like a love-struck youth. Thanks to his cover
of playing the part of Mr. Green, she already believed he had a
roving eye when it came to the ladies. He closed his eyes and took
a deep breath. Not even one full day and his cover story had become
complicated.

"You're going to have your hands full with
that hunter," Bram told him, not without humor before he turned
serious. "How far will you let this charade go? And you kissing
her? What possessed you to indulge? What if she'd noticed your
fangs?"

"She didn't," he said with a grumble. "I was
in control, and for your information, she was the one to kiss
me."

"I didn't see you fending her off," Bram
countered.

Tremayne harrumphed. "You are a fine one to
be spouting dos and don'ts when you took a human for your mate
without the blessing of the sept."

Bram's dark brows shot up. "You're bringing
up something centuries old? Is that all you have?"

Tremayne pinched the bridge of his nose,
feeling a headache starting to take root. "I can handle one little
hunter," he reassured Bram, even though he was beginning to believe
he was in way over his head.

"She looked to be handling you," Bram
countered. "What will you do if she requests an audience with you
in broad daylight?"

"I'll convince her to reconsider." Even to
his own ears he sounded defensive. Besides our preys embrace the
night. Doubt they'll be causing havoc during the daylight hours."
He glanced at Sheerin for help in getting Bram off his back, but
the genius was hunched over and scribbling in his notebook and
mumbling something under his breath. There would be no support from
him while he had an idea stewing in his head.

"This time," Bram continued, "but there will
be a next time, mark my words. She will become suspicious if you
continue to avoid meeting her in the daylight. What then?"

He pursed his lips. He should have never
answered Mr. Green's mobile, but unless someone knew how to turn
back time, the damage was done.

"What happened to the demon?" Bram asked.
"The one she convinced to follow her outside?" He added with a
raised eyebrow. "I didn't see him return and the band's still
playing. Seemed to be enjoying the music before she made her move
on him." He inclined his head toward the stage.

"Since when are you a fan of the Hashasheen
demons?" he snapped.

"To be sure that answers my question well
enough."

"Stuff it, Bram. The Hashasheen had it
coming. He's killed humans and the WFTL would be all over my arse
if I had let him go. As I see it, the hunter did us all a big
favor. The Hashasheen also gave us a lead on who's responsible for
the killings that the news anchors have been clamoring about.
Claimed a Draugr teamed up with the Lamia."

"Wouldn't put it past a Draugr to take what
he wanted." Bram pursed his lips, and Tremayne agreed. Centuries
ago they had to fend off Draugr attacks from their coastland.
They'd arrived in their clinker built ships with a dragon's head at
the bow and stern. Sometimes the fights were long and bloody. Many
never returned home to the Graystone castle, but the Draugr sept
didn't fair much better.

"I'll make inquiries with the WFTL to see
where they stand on this," Bram offered.

While you're at it, could you find out what
happened to Lorelei Rivers?"

"Isn't that the Lamia you were involved with
at one time?" Bram asked and glanced at the portrait.

"Not one of my better moves." He glanced at
the painting behind him too. He told Cassandra it came with the
pub, but he'd purchased the prize from Lorelei Rivers in the early
1900s. True to the legends, the Lamia loved young men who favored
the arts, seduced them and fed off them and in exchange, she gave
them the fame they craved, maybe not enough to be mentioned in the
history books, but enough to keep them satisfied. One of her lovers
had painted the portrait he now owned.

Tremayne had been quite fond of Lorelei until
she began to lure men from the establishment, he'd owned back then,
for her own personal needs, which also involved bank robberies and
a killing spree. It didn't end well for the men, and he had to ask
Lorelei to move on elsewhere or he'd turn her in to the GOJ. She
didn't leave. He made the call. He wondered what became of her? He
hadn't seen her since then and had assumed the GOJ had taken care
of her, but what if they hadn't?

"Are you thinking this is Lorelei's doing?"
Bram asked.

"I don't know, but we shouldn't rule her out.
Whatever is going on, it keeps leading back to Eternal Bliss. Makes
me think either the Lamia or the Draugr has a beef with me."

"I'll see what I can find out," Bram said.
"Also since you're masquerading as Mr. Green, I think it would be
an excellent idea to fix the database at hunter's central with a
nice and pretty photo of you instead of the real Mr. Green's
face."

"It was on my list to ask you about it."

Bram snorted, but Tremayne ignored him. "This
might help," Tremayne said. "He slipped his hand into his pocket
and handed him Green's wallet, which housed some of the guy's
personal information, like his driver's license.

"That's it!" Sheerin slammed his hand on the
counter, making both Bram and Tremayne peer at him. "I think I have
an answer to your dilemma, Tremayne."

His brows rose. "And which dilemma are we
referring to exactly?"

"If you're going to play hunter, you need to
act the part and walk in the daylight."

"Aye, but I fancy my pale hide. Going up in
flames is not a way I'd like to leave this world."

"That's just it," Sheerin said, his light
eyes glowing brighter than usual. "I've been working on a serum to
allow us to venture out in the sun."

"Of course you have," Tremayne murmured.

"It's not perfected," Sheerin continued,
completely ignoring his snarky remark, "and by no means will you be
able to spend hours sunbathing, but if need be, you could make the
hunter believe you are as human as she is." He grinned and
continued to blather on about a formula he'd been working on, among
other things.

Tremayne only heard, blah, blah, blah… as
Sheerin rattled off Latin words or what sounded like Latin
words.

"Those ingredients will perfect the serum,"
Sheerin finished.

"Yeah, boyo," Tremayne said, "that didn't
make a lick of sense to me."

"But are you game?" Sheerin asked.

Had there been the question to what he was
game for? His mind had wandered. "For what?"

"To try out the formula. Haven't you been
listening to anything I've been saying?"

He ran a hand through his hair. It wasn't
that he didn't trust Sheerin, but really? Walk in the sun? "Why
not?" he found himself saying and wished he'd bitten his tongue. He
glanced at Bram who was shaking his head. "What?"

"You just volunteered to be his Guinea pig,"
Bram said. "I don't know, I think you'd have better odds of
surviving if you just tell the hunter you're a vampire."

Chapter Eight

Lorelei Rivers swam to the surface and broke
the water beside
La Belle Dame
, the name of the yacht she'd
purchased over six months ago. Her lips curved as she recalled the
poet she'd inspired to pen such memorable romantic poems. Her hands
gripped the railing and she shifted from her Otherworldy form to
her human existence as she stepped on board. She was long legged,
curvy in all the right places, and she possessed a face worthy of a
goddess—or so her many admirers had often claimed.

She spotted Gunthorn as he stepped out of the
shadows and handed her a silk robe. "I trust your swim was
satisfactory?" he asked.

The Draugr was an original vampire of Viking
blood – big, blonde, and ruthless. He was also a serial killer, but
not everyone was perfect. He kept his killings discreet and he
helped to dispose of her victims once she had her fill. In
exchange, she supplied the funds so he could keep a low profile
when he went hunting. A perfect partnership—for now.