Stake and Dust (Stake and Dust series, Book I) (8 page)

Breena had been her name, a dark-haired
beauty with eyes the color of the sea. She gave her life so he
could live. For shame, he hadn't thought about her in a long
time.

He kept pace with Shakespeare as he frolicked
at the water's edge. The moon stood high in the sky with the stars
just as bright. His thoughts returned to Sheerin and his claim to
have a serum to allow him to walk in the sun.

He never brooded over being a vampire—as the
humans now called his kind. He was, an original, born from Oiche
Sith parents. He loved the night, but to chance a few hours in the
sun would be just short of a miracle and one he'd have a difficult
time refusing. He could debate the pros and cons all he wanted, but
he knew he'd chance it. Not just out of curiosity sake, but for a
possibility to learn more about Cassandra Hayes. Walking in the
sun, would keep her from suspecting he was anything other than a
human. If he kept insisting they meet at night, her hunter's radar
would go off big time.

Was it crazy to want to get to know a hunter
who would sooner stake him than strike up a friendship? Oh aye, but
he had a hunch Cassandra Hayes would prove well worth the ride into
Looneyville
.

Chapter Eleven

Cassandra ended the call with Tremayne with
the plan to meet at the wharf after six tonight. She glanced at her
watch. She had a few minutes to spare.

There were very few slips vacant. She
wondered if the Lamia took residence on a boat or if she lurked
beneath the water just waiting to strike.

She stepped closer to the edge of the ramp
and glanced at the watery depths below. The murky color prevented
her from truly seeing anything beneath its surface with
clarity.

The Lamia would think nothing of giving her
lover a watery death once she drank her fill. And the vamp she hung
out with couldn't be an innocent bystander either. Maybe they
shared their victims. She couldn't rule out the possibility.

Earlier today she'd spent time at the morgue,
where the victims had been put on ice. The blood had been siphoned,
but there was unusual bruising around each of the victim's mouths
and beneath their eyes as if they had been starved, but they didn't
appear emaciated.

Where could the Lamia be hiding? She glanced
at the sun sitting low on the horizon, the day slipping away to
night faster than she'd like. She glanced toward the storefronts
across the way, one being the Eternal Bliss. The pub had been a
pleasant surprise. Even though Tremayne had been sent to the States
as a punishment, he did all right securing a home base.

"Speak of the devil," she murmured as she
spotted Tremayne, leaving his establishment. He wore jeans and a
sweatshirt with a hoodie even though it was a pleasant
seventy-three degrees.

"Have you had any luck at the morgue?" he
asked upon reaching her side.

"No more info than we already had." Her gaze
slid over him. Tall, fit and he wore his jeans well, but the
hoodie? "What's with the hoodlum getup?"

"What do you mean?" His brows furrowed over
the bridge of his nose.

"Never mind." She rolled her eyes at his
fashion sense. Who was she to judge when his attraction hadn't been
hampered in anyway – at least not for her? "I checked out the
morgue, but other than the obvious, there weren't any clues as to
where the victims had been murdered and drained of their blood
before being dumped. What I don't get is why would they want the
bodies found when they could have easily hid them away where no one
would ever be the wiser? They would have entered into the system
under missing persons, case unsolved."

"They like the notoriety," he offered his
opinion. "They get off in letting us know they can kill at will,
aye?" He fished out a folded piece of paper from his jacket
pocket.

"What's this?" she asked as she took it from
him.

"I did some digging myself. As much as the
paranormal duo wanted us to know of their proclivity to torture,
they may have more killings they have not publicized."

She unfolded the paper with the list of
names. She glanced at him again. "This is a big list, and not all
of them are men either."

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "These
people went missing during the tourist season. Now some of those on
the list just might be easily explained away as runaways from
family disagreements, but at the very least we should check it
out."

She nodded. "What about the pub? What time do
you have to check in tonight?"

"I have it covered. I'm free to be your
partner for the night."

Her gaze met his and her heart thudded faster
than it should. She really wished her libido would quiet down when
she was around this man. They had a case to solve and no time for a
partnering
of a different kind, not that he was asking.
"Great," she managed to say without her voice cracking and
revealing her feelings. "Let's start with the first one on the
list. The one the parents reported as missing then changed their
story."

"Tony Maillard," he said. "He hasn't been
back to school. So one guess why the parents changed their
story."

"Glamoured by the vamp to forget their son is
gone."

"It's my guess." He nodded.

"Do you know anything about him?" she asked.
"You have the word 'local' next to his name on your list." She
handed him back the paper for safekeeping, and he stuffed it in his
back pocket.

"The Maillards own a home in the Hamptons,
and in North Carolina. Nice family is what I gathered. Tony turned
nineteen this past May. And guess what his major is in
college?"

"The arts."

"Oh aye. He wants to be a writer. He's been
making a name for himself with a column in the local
newspaper."

"Definitely fits the Lamia's MO." She leaned
against the railing as she peered at Tremayne. "What else do you
know about him?"

"By all accounts he seems to be a
well-adjusted and responsible young man. His parents have money,
but they encouraged their children to work for the summer, while
not in school. His online presence appears squeaky clean, too."

"And where does this upstanding teen
work?"

"Last place of employment is the coffee house
as a barista."

"Which one?"

"It's
the
Coffee House." He motioned
with an incline of his head. She spotted the 'Coffee House' sign
with a vintage coffee cup as its logo.

"I could use a cup a coffee just about now,"
she said, returning her attention back to him. "How about you?"

His lips curved into a wide grin. "Thought
you'd never ask."

"Lead the way then." She waved her hand in
front of her in a grand gesture.

She was impressed with Tremayne's sleuthing
skills. She hadn't expected him to arrive tonight with a clue to
follow. He'd been busy when he should have been getting some
shuteye. She glanced his way, looking for signs of fatigue, but the
man seemed bright-eyed and ready to take on the night. She
shrugged. She worked well on a few hours of sleep, too. Looked like
teaming up with this guy wouldn't be so bad after all, and she'd
had her doubts when they first spoke three days ago. She wasn't
going to argue with the turnaround.

They entered the Coffee House and the place
hummed with conversations from the locals and tourists alike as
they chatted over a cappuccino or a macchiato with whip cream. She
personally liked good old regular coffee with a splash of flavored
creamer, or milk and two sugars, which she ordered from the barista
named Chloe, or so her nametag claimed.

"I haven't seen Tony in a while," Cassandra
casually said to Chloe as if she knew Tony personally. She
carefully sipped her coffee and peered at the girl over the rim of
the paper cup, hoping the girl would loosen her tongue and talk
about the missing teen.

"He skipped three shifts," Chloe said,
"before his parents told us he wouldn't be back." Chloe pursed her
lips and looked away. Obviously, not pleased with Tony's
decision.

"Did he move away?" she asked, pushing for
more information.

Chloe narrowed her eyes with suspicion. "I'm
sorry, who are you again?"

Maybe she pushed a little too hard. She
opened her mouth to try another approach, but Tremayne beat her to
it.

"We're friends of the family," Tremayne said
with a lazy grin that made his dimple wink. Damn that dimple was
all kinds of sexy. She chanced a glance at Chloe, hoping she'd fall
for Tremayne's charm. The girl's eyes slid over Tremayne's
features, then to his broad chest, and then back up again before
she gave him a big toothy smile. Oh yeah, she was under his
spell.

"Well if you're friends…" She let the
sentence hang there for a half a second as she looked over her
shoulder. She appeared worried someone would overhear their
conversation, but those around seemed preoccupied with the latest
gossip their friends had to tell, and others were on their
smartphones. No one appeared particularly interested in their
conversation at all.

"I didn't believe Tony just decided to call
it quits," Chloe revealed. "He wasn't that kind of guy. I've known
him from grade school. He would have given us a two week notice, if
he planned to leave." She leaned on the counter as if she intended
to tell them a grand secret. "It was weird," she continued. "I
worked with him on the last shift he showed up for. We made plans
to see a movie on the following day. We were both off and we were
to meet in front of the Coffee House, but he never showed, and when
I phoned him, it went straight to voice mail."

"Maybe he's just a flake," Cassandra said,
which won her an exaggerated eye roll from the barista.

"I just told you Tony wasn't that kind of
guy. He was considerate. He'd phone in, even if he would be a few
minutes late to work. He'd stay after his shift to help out if he
noticed we were running behind. No, Tony wouldn't just flake.
Something's happened to him, and no one seems to care. Not even his
parents."

"What about the articles in the newspaper?
Tony's articles…" Tremayne said and slid a newspaper clipping over
to the girl."

She did one better. She leaned down to
retrieve something, which happened to be a folder filled with
newspaper clippings. She plopped the folder on the counter and
opened it for them to see. "I've saved every article he's written.
Don't get me wrong. Tony is talented, but his articles of late
aren't quite the same. So either Tony has drastically changed his
writing techniques or someone else has taken over his column. I'm
betting on the latter." She closed the folder and looked at them.
"Tony hasn't return any of his phone calls – from me or any of his
other friends– and no one has seen him, but his articles keep
appearing like clockwork."

Cassandra exchanged looks with Tremayne
before he questioned the barista further. "Was he seeing anyone?
Was there a girlfriend perhaps?"

"Nothing serious." She chewed on her lower
lip as if she thought of something.

"If you remember anything that might help us
find Tony, we'd appreciate it," Tremayne pushed.

"Well there was this guy who pestered him.
Kept trying to talk to him about college courses. Tony, being Tony,
never told the guy to take a hike. And before you ask," she
directed her gaze to Cassandra, "Tony liked girls and this man
didn't strike me as wanting to date Tony either, but..." She sighed
with a frown as if she were recalling this man's motives all over
again. "There was something off with him. Kind of gave me the
willies. Tony would laugh off my warnings to dump the guy, and
insisted I was just being paranoid, but now I'm not so sure. Maybe
Tony should have listened to me."

"Have you seen this guy since Tony stopped
working here?" Tremayne asked.

"Come to think of it, no." She leaned down
behind the counter and retrieved something else. "I don't know the
guy's name, but he left this after one of his visits." She handed
Tremayne a box of matches with the logo: 'Bygones' printed in bold
gold letters.

Chapter Twelve

With Chloe's lead, they headed in the
direction of
Bygones
. Tremayne didn't bother with the
hoodie. The sun had set, leaving the night to rule. He glanced at
Cassandra who kept pace with him as she examined the matchbook as
if she'd find a clue. He didn't note anything out of the ordinary
about the matches, but he recognized the name of the place printed
in bold letters.

The establishment proved a favorite among the
vampires and other preternatural beings, a legit place with nothing
underhanded going on there—at least as far as he knew. At
Bygones
, vampires didn't have to pretend they didn't sport
fangs and could order blood drinks without question. He'd been
there a time or two, but he found some of the company dismal.
Woe is me, I'm the un-dead
, didn't suit him. He really
detested whiny beings, vampire or not. They needed to get over
themselves and move on.
Gotta love yourself before you can love
someone else.
He was a big believer in that policy.

"Have you been to this place?" Cassandra
asked as they walked away from the boardwalk and headed toward the
street where
Bygones
was located.

He'd been to the establishment, but he didn't
think it wise to share the tidbit with her. "I've been by it." He
wanted to question the bartender there, but he wasn't sure if it
would be a wise idea for her to go inside with him. The clientele
would know she was a hunter just by her stance alone. It would make
them leery to dole out information. Heck, they might even hide the
vamp they were looking for purely on principle.

"You've been by the place?" Her lovely brows
furrowed and he had the urge to smooth the lines away with the pad
of his thumb.

"What aren't you telling me?" she asked and
looked him in the eye.