Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
Another chair was lifted over a head, and the entire bar erupted in growls and threatening body language. “Wait!” I shoved out a hand and ducked, fully expecting that chair to come flying in my direction. “We’ll find your killer!”
The chaos and commotion stopped. I peeked through my fingers to find all the faces turned toward me again. “We’re uh... It’s uh... We’re good at... finding killers?”
“We are?” Zee queried from the back of his assailant.
The man who had bought me a drink earlier stepped forward. His dark-whiskered chin and hair hid much of his face, but the brown eyes shining through seemed honest. “You vow this?”
“Yes. It’s uh... it’s what we do.” An idea formed. “It’s what we’re here for, actually. Heroes of the City. We uh... we help fix things.” Yes, this was perfect. We’d hole up here for a few days, find the killer, and nobody had to look any closer at why I’d shipped us north with no warning and no plan.
Zee lifted his head and addressed the whole room. “You may have heard of us? We stopped the big bad sorcerer in San Francisco?—”
“You see any cities or sorcerers around ’ere?” The gruff older man with salt and pepper hair who had stood on my other side at the bar spoke up. He’d stayed at the bar during the brief fight, and watched it alongside his soft-eyed friend. Old Furry guy and his friend Brown Eyes gave off the same kind of calm authority vibes as Victor, suggesting they may be the ones in control.
Speaking of vampires... The bar door opened and our tall, grumpy vampire entered, his face as mean as I’d ever seen it.
“Late again, Fancy Fangs.” Zee huffed from the back of the big guy.
Victor studied the chaos that included broken chairs, bloody noses, and a corpse. “Zodiac, why are you mounted on the back of that werewolf gentleman?”
“The what now?” Zee’s eyes grew. “Ooohh, werewolves? Fuck, right.” He plucked himself off the back of the werewolf gentleman and picked his path through the gang of twitchy werewolves to stand between Victor and me. “All the hair makes fuckin’ sense now.”
“You did not know they were werewolves?” Victor asked, incredulously.
“Pfft, what?” He brushed himself down and ruffled his hair. “Of course I did.”
“There appears to be a deceased pack member. My condolences.” Victor stepped forward, prompting more growls, but as he approached the dead man—werewolf—none of them pounced on him like they had us. “Murder?”
“Duh,” Zee coughed into his hand.
“Is this vampire with you?” Brown Eyes asked me.
“Oh yes, introductions would help. This is Lord Victor Reynard of the West Coast Vampire Council, and he’s uh...” I gestured at Zee. “He’s Zodiac.”
Zee tossed his hair about his horns. “Of the Too Hot to Fondle viral social-media hit, or Tamed by the Rabid Werewolf , a title I had no creative control over. Everyone knows werewolves rarely get rabies.” As a few of the pack growled, Zee shrunk back. These folks definitely were not fans.
“And I’m Adam.”
Brown Eyes studied the three of us, then stepped forward and extended his huge hand. “We accept your vow, Adam of the San Francisco City Pack.”
“Great.” My hand disappeared into Brown Eyes’s enormous grip.
He yanked me forward, prompting Zee to bristle again and Victor to growl. “But know this, Adam. I am Galbraith of the Whiteacre, alpha of this territory, and you had better keep your vow or you’ll be bones in our back yard.” He freed my squished, bloodless hand.
Grateful to have my hand back, I tried to shake some feeling back into it. “Understood.”
Galbraith barked at the others to move Cameron—the dead guy—somewhere more respectful than the bar floor, and for the rest of them to aid us in whatever we needed to find the killer.
While the majority of the pack was focused on their own goings-on, I nodded at Victor and Zee to head outside so we could speak privately.
“Do you think I should grow a beard?” Zee asked as we crossed the lot.
“I think we should prioritize not getting killed by angry werewolves, not your potential facial hair,” Victor replied.
“You can grow a beard?” I asked. There hadn’t been many bearded demons at Razorsedge.
“Probably not.” Zee stroked his chin. “I could draw one on?”
“Radical as the suggestion may sound,” Victor began, opening our motel room door. “Shall we focus more on not dying and less on Zodiac’s lack of body hair?”
Zee planted himself in front of the mirror and dabbed at a minor bruise on his chin. “Oh, I know, I’ll glamor one on.”
Victor rested his ass on the window sill, quiet in contemplation.
For some reason, it felt as though all of this was my fault. I had technically volunteered us to help. I scratched the back of my neck. “So uh... I guess we’re staying here for a while... at least until we find the killer who did that to their packmate.”
“It is rather unusual—” Victor began, but was promptly interrupted by Zee.
“I’ve never seen so much fluff in one room. They have no chill. We were minding our own business, eating the best pancakes, and then to just dump a body on us and claim we did it? So fuckin’ rude, amiright?”
I sat on the end of Zee’s double bed, aimlessly testing its bounce. “I guess they don’t like outsiders much.”
“May I continue, or are more random thoughts likely to fall from your mouth?” Victor asked Zee.
“No, I think that’s all of them.” Zee propped himself against the dresser and crossed his arms.
“As I was saying... it’s rather unusual for werewolves to invite outsiders into their personal altercations. As you noted, traditional packs such as this one, generally police their own pack.”
“They probably would do that, but I kind of volunteered us.”
“You did?”
“I guess it’s uh... actually what we’re here for. To help fix things. It’s what we do now, right? As heroes.”
“I see...” Victor said skeptically. “That somewhat explains our involvement.”
“Why don’t they just call the SSD?” Zee asked.
“The SSD is already stretched thin. Their agents would take days to get here, if they even arrived at all. Outside the cities, Lost Ones police themselves,” Victor explained.
“Fair. Nobody calls them much in the city either. So I guess we’re stuck here ... unless Adam dragons all over them?” Zee faced me. “You could, now you’re not cursed.”
“It’s not that simple. In this form I’m stronger than I look, but to do more I’d have to shift, and if I did that... You’ve seen how big I am. I’d crush the bar, everyone in it, and you guys too. It’s too risky, and as much as I enjoy a good massacre, I’m not sure they all deserve to die-by-dragon just because they accused us of murder.”
Zee pursed his lips. “Valid,” he said after a moment’s thought. “At least we’ve got the nuclear eat-everything option as backup if this improvised murder mystery goes balls-up.”
“Werewolves can be managed with sensitive treatment, but Adam, why would they even want our help or your vow?”
“Because they know we’re awesome?” Zee asked.
“No, there’s more to it?—”
A knock at the door interrupted Victor.
I hopped to my feet to open it. “I guess we’ll find out.” Opening the door revealed a six-foot-high pallet of boxes on a delivery trolley, and a young woman peeking out from behind it.
“Hullo. Delivery for one Mr. Zodiac?”
“Uh, Zee?”
Zee poofed into the doorway, muscling me behind him. “Perfect timing. Thank you, delivery lady.”
The delivery woman wheeled the Victor-height pallet of boxes into the room, unhooked her trolley, and waved a goodbye, leaving the three of us staring at the stacks of unmarked packages.
Zee rubbed his hands together with glee. “Hello, my sweet, precious babies.”
“I fear I’ll regret asking, therefore I shall refrain from doing so,” Victor remarked dryly.
“Be prepared for amazement.” Zee dove into the topmost box, pulled out a packet of Oreos, and tossed it to me. After catching it, I frowned down at the cookies, then back up at the stacks as tall as Victor and as wide as one of the big werewolves. That was a lot of Oreos. Several questions came to mind. How had he gotten them here so fast, and were that many boxes really necessary? But mostly, I just wanted to know ... “Why?”
He presented a packet of cookies in the palm of his hand. “You’ll be surprised what an Oreo can do. They come in handy sizes, make a great breakfast, lunch, or dinner, and they’re full of chocolatey vitamins.”
“Chocolate vitamins do not exist,” Victor grouched.
“Okay. But Zee, uhm . . . why?”
“Why not?” He plucked out another packet and tossed it to Victor.
Victor snatched the cookies out of the air and immediately tossed them onto a nearby chair, less than impressed.
Of all the things going on, a few crates of Oreos was the least we needed to worry over. “Okay, I guess.”
“Okay?” Victor repeated.
I shrugged, then smiled. “Now we have Oreos.”
“How much did they cost?” Victor asked.
“Nothing. It’s called sponsorship , Vampire Daddy. Which you won’t understand since your billionaire ass barely knows what it’s like to scrape by with five bucks in your pocket.”
“A cookie company sponsored you ?” Victor asked incredulously.
“Why not? I’m fuckin’ famous, don’t you know? An upstanding member of society. I pay taxes... sometimes. I just gotta mention Oreos on my socials and wait for the free money to roll in.”
“They haven’t paid you?”
“It’s a pay-per-view thing. Whatever. Do you not see the tower of Oreos?”
Victor sighed, long and hard. “Every day with you, Zodiac, is a wonder.”
“Wonder ful ,” Zee corrected. Using his tail, he tossed a second bag of cookies at Victor’s face.
Victor snatched them out of the air but held onto them this time. “Indeed,” came his monotone reply.
“You’re just grumpy because you want to sink your fangs into Adam’s neck. Even you’ll come around to the many benefits of Oreos eventually.”
I’d forgotten Victor hadn’t fed in days. He was overdue and grouchy. “Oh right, yeah. Would you like a top-up?” I quickly unbuttoned my shirt from the collar down, and Victor’s gaze shot to my fingers, giving away his need. Even though he was too polite to demand it, I’d always open a vein for him.
“Do you think the fluffy good boys would like some Oreos?” Zee asked, lifting packets of cookies like dumbbells.
“I think, maybe, give them some space for a while.” The last thing they needed was Zee giving out Oreos when they were probably grieving the loss of their packmate. “But we will need to speak to them after Victor’s fed.”
“And visit the site of the murder before any evidence is potentially... tampered... with...” Victor’s voice trailed off but his gaze remained glued on my neck.
I had all his attention zeroed in on me now, and an illicit thrill shivered down my spine. There was no time for anything more intimate than making sure he was topped-up, but sometimes that was enough. Crossing the floor, I stopped in front of him and tilted my head away, inviting him to take me.
“Mydros...” He breathed my true name in my ear, folded his arms around me, and those cool, sharp fangs slid neatly into my neck. It never got old, or boring, or weird. It was always like the first time, when he’d needed me. His touch alone could set me ablaze.
I melted into his embrace, surrendering completely. Safe. Loved. These were the things that made him and me and Zee everything to each other.
I should tell them why we’re running . . .
Victor’s fangs slid from my neck, freeing pleasant shivers through my entire body. He hadn’t taken much blood, just enough to shore him up. We’d learned dragon blood was potent and were still figuring out all the benefits being close to a dragon brought them both.
I clung to him for a few seconds longer, and contemplated throwing him onto the bed and demanding he take Zee and me for a wild ride.
Zee’s cookie crunching summoned my thoughts back into the room. “Hm, shogood.”
“Zodiac,” Victor grumbled.
“If you’re gonna suck neck in front of me, imma eat my feelings.”
And the moment was gone. “We’ll have time for more personal uhm... stuff... later.” I checked my reflection for any stray drops of blood, but as always, Victor was meticulous in clean-up, his bite invisible—and his heated gaze in the mirror suggested I’d definitely get my wild ride later. “We need to get a look at where the body was found,” I said, clearing my throat. “And the person who found him.”
“Finally,” Zee exclaimed, tossing the cookies onto the boxes and strutting toward the door. “Let’s go and Scooby-Doo the fuck out of this furry whodunnit.”
Galbraith loomed outside the bar, with Old Furry flanking the other side of the doorway. “Thought you’d skipped out on us,” he said, big brown eyes glaring from under bushy eyebrows.
“We made a vow.” My tone was clear—we did not break our promises. The pair of werewolves grunted a noncommittal noise. “Will you show us where Cameron was found?”
Galbraith nodded. “This is Duke, our beta,” he said, putting a name to Old Furry. “He’ll lead the way.”
I wasn’t sure what a beta did, but I assumed he was the pack’s second-in-command. Duke was bigger than Galbraith, stocky and firm. His eyes were cooler, though. Harder. He didn’t waste any time with greetings, just stomped off into the woods behind the bar.
A little over one hundred meters in, we came to a disturbed patch of dirt. Half-rotted pine needles and leaf litter revealed where there had been a struggle—blood splatters confirmed the outcome of that fight. This was Cameron’s final resting place. There wasn’t much blood, though, especially for a gut wound. Not that I’d know much about stomach wounds, not having gutted many people myself... Well, there was that one time... A few times, actually. Never mind.
“It’s close to the bar,” Victor said, eyeing the back of the bar through the trees. “Whoever did this was not concerned about witnesses.”
“When was Cameron last seen alive?” I asked Duke.
“Early this morning,” the gruff beta replied in a deep, growly voice. “He left the bar around two.”
“We got here after six,” Zee explained, and was met with two werewolf frowns. “Just sayin’...”
“And his body was discovered not long after,” Galbraith added, standing back between us and the bar, perhaps blocking any escape route should we attempt to run. Maybe they were using the excuse of us helping to keep us in their sights. Keep your enemies close... But if they continued to believe we’d murdered their packmate, we might miss important clues.
I had to make sure we were useful.
“Did Cameron have any obvious enemies?” Victor asked, hitching up his trousers and crouching to scan the disturbed forest floor up close.
“No, he’s well liked.” Duke sniffed. “ Was well liked.”
“What about the woman who found him?” I asked. Screaming murder instead of help had been an interesting choice, but people did weird things in stressful situations. Again, not that I’d know what people screamed when confronted with death, since it’s not something that happened around me... much.
“Kate? She’s the cook. She was out back vaping and heard a noise.”
“What kind of noise?” This came from Zee. “A scurrying? A scuffle? A kerfuffle?”
“You’ll have to ask her,” Galbraith replied, turning his attention to Victor who was visually scanning the scene.
“He has a photographic memory,” I whispered. Whispering seemed appropriate now we’d all fallen quiet. The trees around us rustled softly, and somewhere far off a confused daytime owl hooted.
Galbraith’s bushy caterpillar eyebrows lifted. “You guys do much of this? Solve murders?”
Zee laughed. “Fuck no. We mostly cause them?—”
“Yup!” I interrupted before Zee’s mouth dug our graves for us. “We have a lot of experience with murder.”
“You’re really the three heroes of San Francisco?” the big alpha asked.
“That’s us.”
“So why you all the way up north?”
“Great question.” Zee’s grin wasn’t entirely innocent as he flung it my way. “Why are we all the way up north, Kitten?”
“For this.” I gestured at the dirt. “For things like this. Not for this exact crime scene. Just to help out. With uh... murders? And for a vacation.”
“Right.” Galbraith’s gaze flicked to Zee then Victor and back to me. He didn’t appear to be convinced.
“Your attacker came up on Cameron from the north,” Victor said, straightening. “Approaching tracks make it clear they came from within the cover of the woods... not from the bar. This means anyone inside the bar during the early hours of this morning is unlikely to be your suspect.”
“Well, that’s most of us,” Duke said gruffly.
“Most is not all,” Victor countered.
Our group fell quiet again, with the werewolves sharing glances that may have meant they were impressed or about to murder us and leave us in the woods for the worms.
“Our vampire’s very good at this,” Zee said, not without some pride. Then he plucked a packet of cookies from behind him—from where, I’ve no idea—and offered Galbraith one. “Oreo?”
The big werewolf growled. “Is murder a joke to you, demon?”
“Au contraire, I challenge anyone to be sad while eating an Oreo.”
Standing over a murder scene was not the best time to tell the werewolves how great Oreos were. “Zee, I don’t think now is the time?—”
Galbraith shrugged his massive leather-jacket-clad shoulders, took a tiny cookie in his thick fingers, and crunched out a half-moon shape. “Ishgood.”
“See.” Zee’s smile could brighten even a murder scene. He spotted Duke leaning against a tree scowling. “Big guy wanna cookie?”
“No,” Duke grouched.
Zee waved the cookie enticingly, but instead of looking intrigued, Duke exuded murder-the-demon-next vibes.
“Alrighty, then.” I grabbed Zee’s shoulder. “So, what’s next?”
“We talk to Kate, the woman who found him,” Victor said. “Find out who wasn’t in the bar this morning, and examine the body.”