Chapter 12
A Ghost
“You look like you could do with this.”
I startled at the sound of Michael’s voice. He moved like a ghost. All vampires did. He carried two glasses of red wine, and slipped one next to my half-eaten plate of food.
“Why is everyone trying to give me sustenance?”
Michael slipped down beside me, and the mild, sweet scent of flowers and forest filled my lungs. “I’m not sure wine counts as a suitable form of nutrition. It is, however, a well-known relaxant, and I thought you could do with something.”
“Are you saying I’m wound up?”
Michael swallowed a sip of wine before he spoke. “It wouldn’t be normal if you weren’t, Amy. It’s been quite the time.”
That was the understatement of the century. But then Michael was hundreds of years old, so he’d probably seen his fair share of bloodshed and battles. “Have you seen Karson?”
His brown eyes softened. “He’s doing much better, but he’s still resting.”
I frowned. Why didn’t he come back to his room to rest? Was he avoiding me?
“It’s bad enough the other one drinks herself into a stupor every day. Don’t encourage that one too,” Monique said, sauntering in.
Michael swiveled his head to look at her. “Any news?”
She removed a black hooded jacket, damp with rain, and hung it on a hook behind the door. “Aside from Byron, the vampires Karson killed were from Europe and arrived in Portland yesterday. Two are listed as missing persons. The others were homeless or loners who wouldn’t be missed.”
“How long have the two been listed as missing?” he asked.
“Between two and four months.”
Michael rubbed the back of his neck. “So, it would seem she has planned this whole debacle for a while?” His accent thickened as it did when something touched a nerve.
Monique shrugged and moved to open a fridge door that was concealed within a cupboard. “Or she thought it would be wise to use vampires who didn’t know who he was. No one from around here would attack him, not unless they were sick of living.”
Michael’s expression was contemplative. “Any news on the witch front?”
Ice cubes clattered into her glass. “No. The few I spoke to seemed to know nothing beyond rumors of the witch being killed by Karson. Besides that small hiccup, all seems quiet.”
“Quiet is good,” Michael replied.
Monique poured whiskey into her glass. “You know as well as I do, it’s always quiet before the storm, Michael.”
“I believe the storm started last night when they dared to attack Karson. He won’t let it slip by without someone paying the price.”
“What will he do?” I asked, unsure if I really wanted to know.
“Find the person responsible for providing the blade and kill them.” There was no emotion in Karson’s voice, just a presenting of facts.
My heart lurched at the sight of him gliding into the room. His skin was paler than usual, and dark circles rimmed his eyes. His body hadn’t completely healed from the effects of the blade.
Michael ran his eyes over him and frowned. “Sarah might be the one who had the blade. Her father is a collector of many old artifacts, as we are well aware.”
“He’s not going to keep a blade that could disable his own children,” Monique remarked.
“I think it would be prudent of us to consider him. He hid the grimoire for all these years, and he may very well have thought by hiding it himself he’d keep them safe,” Michael responded.
“If he had managed to get hold of one, wouldn’t he just destroy it?” I ventured.
All eyes fell to me and pin prickles covered my skin as it always did when the attention of a vampire was on me.
Karson’s eyes softened as our gazes locked.
“He’s largely immortal, but people like him who drank from the waters can still be killed the same way vampires can.
But he is not as fast or as skilled as a vampire, so a blade like that is a defense for him and his wife if it was ever needed. ”
Michael fiddled with the stem of his glass. “You searched the hidden room—did you see it or any weapons?”
“No.” Karson ran a hand through his bedraggled dark hair, stopping in front of the fireplace to warm his back. “But he may very well have a number of hiding places.”
“Has anyone thought to ask him?” I said.
Once again, all eyes switched to me. It was Karson who answered, “Yes. He denies it, but I doubt he’d admit to harboring a weapon with that kind of power. He’d know how upset I’d be.”
Michael straightened, his eyes narrowing. “You think he’s lying?”
Monique perched on the end of the couch. “Technically, he may not be lying. He may have carried it on him.”
The room stilled. Which would mean he gave it to Sarah, and if he did, Karson would kill him and probably Marg too.
My heart clattered against my chest. They were good people.
It was Bob who took one look at my heartbroken face and gave me a job in the bookstore when I first moved to Church Heights.
“Bob isn’t like that, he’s gentle. And he would’ve talked Sarah down if he’d seen her. Not give her a knife to fight you with.”
Karson rubbed at the stubble on his chin.
Stubble. I’d never seen stubble on his chin.
I’d never even seen razors at his place.
I’d just assumed he couldn’t grow facial hair.
Somehow, even though he resembled death warmed up, it gave him a rugged edge, made him look sexier.
I wanted to run my hand through his hair, press my lips to his, feel his stubble on my face, between my thighs …
The corner of Karson’s lips curled up as if he could read my thoughts. No, he couldn’t. I didn’t have my ring on to block my powers … but he could probably smell my desire. They all could.
Fuck.
My cheeks grew hot as I ripped my gaze away, pressing my thighs together.
Michael cleared his throat. “I agree, Bob isn’t the type to want to hurt anyone. Vampire or witch. He’s a peacekeeper.”
Monique’s gaze cut between the two vampires. Her tone was pointed. “When his daughter’s life is on the line, I wouldn’t be so sure. Anyone, even the kindest of hearts, is capable of extreme violence to protect their children.”
“Rest assured I will get to the bottom of it.” Karson’s voice was deadly quiet. “And whoever gave it to Sarah will regret their imprudent decision to help her.”
Scowling, my eyes ran up and down his body. “You’re not going out tonight. You’re still not fully recovered.”
Karson looked at the curtained window, a disquiet on his features. He was not used to being vulnerable. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine, you look like walking death.”
Karson opened his mouth to argue.
“She’s right,” Michael cut him off. “It won’t bode well for you if others see you aren’t at full strength. Stay home and rest. Monique, you should stay home as well. You haven’t slept for two days. And I, for one, do not want to tolerate two grumpy vampires. Especially you two.”
Karson’s jaw tightened. “I need to be seen in case there are rumors floating around. I’ve been … reduced.” His lip curled in disgust. “This is a time to show my power, not hide away like a coward.”
Monique threw back the rest of her whiskey. “You need to be seen at full strength. The bags under your eyes look like two graves, which is where you may end up if you insist on going out tonight. Feed, sleep. One more night won’t change anything.”
“It might be a good idea,” I kept my tone casual, “if I go out and see if I can find out any information. I’m likely to be told more from the witches than a vampire would be.”
Karson hooked an eyebrow. “You will do no such thing.”
“Witches won’t hurt me,” I implored. “Sarah isn’t in Portland. I’ll be perfectly safe.”
“No one bar Caron and a few trusted vampires know you’re here, Amelia,” Michael answered. “It’s best it’s kept that way. If Sarah does return to Portland she will ask around, and chances are she will think we have you hidden elsewhere. It may buy us some time, at least.”
That hardly made sense. If she thought Karson cared about me, which was her whole diabolical reason to murder me in bitter, twisted revenge, then his house would be the first place she would look.
I hooked my own eyebrow. “You don’t think the vampires Karson has guarding the house might give away my presence?”
“She won’t know if they are guarding the premises because you’re here or because Karson wants to make it look like you are as a trap.”
I folded my arms. “I am not staying in his house for months on end, hiding, waiting for Sarah to make the first move, and neither can Georgie.”
“I could alter her mind and change her …” he paused, his jaw tensing, “attitude, but you won’t allow it,” Karson said. Oh, the condemnation in his tone.
The thought of mind-controlling people against their will disgusted me.
I knew it was a necessary evil for those they fed from, and I had seen him do it once to a woman who was in an abusive relationship to give her the strength to leave, but she had wanted to leave, she just didn’t have the self-esteem or courage to do it.
Karson had saved her; that was different.
“She doesn’t want her mind wiped, and it’s not your decision to make, it’s hers.”
“Oh yes, Amelia, that’s the best idea. She’s coping so well with the knowledge, isn’t she!” His voice was alarmingly loud.
I remembered he had used the same lines on me the night I had found out what he was.
The same night I saw him rip off a vampire’s head with his hands.
I didn’t cope well initially. I was all fake bravado on the outside, while inside I wanted to curl into a ball and cry.
I opened my mouth to protest as Mary came in carrying a fresh pot of tea, and a tray with four cups, sugar, milk, and a fat, gooey vanilla slice.
“I can hear you yelling all the way from the kitchen, Karson.” Mary put the tray down. My mouth watered at seeing the slice. “What has your knickers twisted in a granny’s knot now?” Mary’s eyes glinted with mischief, making her look younger than her years.