Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Abi
The doorbell rang, echoing through the mansion or—as I had taken to mentally calling it—the Vampire Abode.
I paused outside my office door.
As it was 6:03 p.m. I’d been about to finish for the day, but Kinge had made it clear he wanted me to answer the doorbell during my work hours. Did that mean I should get it, because I hadn’t technically finished just yet, or should I ignore it because typical business hours were over?
While I stood in my indecision, the door rang again.
Maybe it’s one of the lawn guys. They were finishing up about ten minutes ago, so maybe they have a question?
Mind made up, I hurried to the front door, opening it before the visitors could ring the doorbell again.
Standing outside on the stoop was a young woman who was maybe in her early twenties and a kid who looked to be maybe eight or nine.
The two had to be relatives as they shared warm golden skin, athletic builds, and dark brown hair—although the woman’s had beachy waves while the boy’s was straight.
Even their eyes were the same amber color, although the woman’s was warm and inviting while there was something stony and sharp to the kid’s that made me double look.
Both of them, however, oozed something that felt… more. I couldn’t quite describe it, but I suspected they were supernaturals. (Maybe werewolves? I’d only met a handful, but they frequently had yellow or amber colored eyes.)
“Can I help you?” I asked.
The young woman smiled. “Hi… are you Mr. Kinge’s house manager?”
I held onto the door. “Yes. I’m Abigail Marshall.”
“Pleased to meet you, Abigail. I’m Daphne, and this is my little brother Flint. We’re here to talk to Mr. Kinge. We’re… you could call us neighbors,” Daphne said in a way that made me think they lived nowhere near here.
I had no idea what a vampire would talk about to this pair, but it wasn’t my business anyway!
I smiled and dug my phone out of my pocket. “Let me call him and see if he’s available—”
“No need, Abigail. Bring them up to my office,” Kinge said.
I twisted around and followed my employer’s voice to the top of the stairs where he stood, frowning.
“Okay,” I gamely agreed, and opened the door wider for the visitors. “You can come right on in.”
“Thanks!” Daphne strolled in.
Her brother paused to stare up at me.
There was something a little unsettling about him. Not in a spooky way, more like the way you feel nervous when sitting in your boss’s office, even if you hadn’t done anything wrong.
I nodded to him and waited until he’d moved on before closing the door. “Mr. Kinge’s office is just up here,” I said, leading the way up the stairs.
“So, Abigail, are you new to the area?” Daphne casually asked.
Lacking Daphne’s athleticism, I took a few gulps of air as we reached the top of the staircase. “Please, call me Abi. And yes, I moved up here to take the position. Are you two locals?”
“Yep! Born and raised here, just like our parents,” Daphne said.
“Neat,” I said, having mostly recovered my breathing. “Anything you recommend seeing in the area?”
“The Ahnapee State Trail. The whole thing is worth seeing, but it’s 48 miles and goes in a couple different directions, so you’d probably want to tackle it over a few days.”
“Days, sure,” I echoed as eyed Daphne’s trim build and mentally adjusted the time frame to weeks.
I stopped outside Kinge’s office and opened the door for the duo. “Here you go. It was lovely meeting you.” I started to back away.
“Come in with them, Abigail,” Kinge called.
I reluctantly followed the siblings inside, wondering why he wanted me there.
Kinge’s study was, I personally thought, a good reflection of him.
The furniture was mostly wooden framed and covered in leather cushions or flowered upholstery.
There was a lovely fireplace that was almost as big as the library’s, except this one had an antique painting of a horse hanging over it, and there was an abundance of leather bound books organized in gorgeous built in wooden book cases.
That classical Oxford feel somehow melded seamlessly with Kinge’s enormous desk that boasted a state of the art computer, multiple tablets, an ergonomic keyboard, and ergonomic mouse.
If it wasn’t for the library downstairs that I got to flounce through whenever I liked, I’d be jealous of the English professor-vibe he had going on.
Kinge was seated at his desk, but flicked his eyes at us when we entered. (Today he’d foregone his contacts, revealing his deep merlot-red eyes.)
I plopped down on the leather couch but both Daphne and Flint remained standing, Flint with perfect and straight posture that looked a touch out of place on a kid and Daphne with her hands folded behind her back as if she were reporting to a superior.
What’s with this?
“Mr. Kinge.” Daphne slightly bowed her head, a gesture Flint copied.
Kinge gave the duo a look of exasperation, which softened his stone-carved features the most out of any emotion I’d seen him wear so far. “What do you two want?”
“We’re here to report in on a recent attack in Algoma,” Daphne said.
Kinge sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose—his vibe was casual for him compared to the strictness of the siblings. “I’ve told you before there’s no need to tell me about supernatural activity.”
Daphne glanced at me with surprise, but continued. “You are the most powerful supernatural in the area, Mr. Kinge.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t matter because I’m still considered in hiding from humans and not involved in the politics of the supernatural community,” Kinge said.
Daphne just blinked.
Kinge sighed, then turned to me. “Abigail, this is Daphne and Flint.”
“They introduced themselves when I opened the door,” I said.
“Perhaps,” Kinge grimly said. “But I imagine they didn’t mention that Daphne is the Alpha of their werewolf Pack, the Ahnapee River Pack?”
So they are werewolves!
I peered at the siblings with interest. “That didn’t come up, no.”
“I’m only the temporary Alpha,” Daphne said. “Flint’s got way more Alpha in him than me—than anyone in our Pack, actually, but he’s too young. I got stuck with the title until he’s old enough to take over.”
“I see?” I said, confused. (I thought the title of Alpha was frequently something werewolves vied for and involved fighting?)
“Mr. Kinge, am I to assume that Miss Marshall knows what you are?” Flint asked, sounding like a professional businessman instead of the kid he was.
“She does, yes,” Kinge dryly said.
Daphne’s stance relaxed a little. “Wow—now that’s a change. You haven’t had a regular human that’s known what you are in ages. What did she do to earn your trust?”
“I worked late,” I said.
“Sorry, what?” Daphne asked.
“Never mind that,” Kinge said. “I wanted you to meet the siblings, Abigail, so you know that the next time they come calling, you can tell them to get lost.”
I squinted at the handsome vampire. “You want me—a human—to tell them—an Alpha and a future Alpha—to leave?”
“Precisely.”
“And you think that will work?”
“Yes,” Kinge wryly said. “Because they know to mind their manners on my land, particularly as it doesn’t belong to any wolf Pack territory.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, not convinced.
This still feels like an unfair ask.
Kinge drummed his fingers on the top of his desk. “If you’re going to insist on keeping your memories, I might as well get something out of it.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Your face said it for you,” he dryly said. “Regardless, I’m going to have you ban all magical visitors in the future.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” I asked. “Have them sign in a log that asks if they’re supernaturals?”
Daphne and Flint’s eyes darted back and forth between Kinge and myself with fascination.
Kinge waved me off. “We’ll discuss it later.”
I raised my eyebrows but kept my mouth shut. As I was aiming for employee of the month given Kinge’s very apparent reluctance to keep me on, I had better stay quiet… even if Kinge was asking me to essentially be a magical bouncer.
“Regardless, as I’ve told both of you before—Daphne, Flint—there is no need to report in on supernatural activities in the area as there is nothing I could do about it.”
“Well, yeah, you’ve told us that before.” The tilt of Daphne’s mouth made me suspect she deeply disagreed with Kinge about this, but was going to ignore it for now. “But this time is different.”
“Is it,” Kinge said flatly.
“Yes,” Daphne said. “This time Magiford needs to be informed, as it wasn’t supernatural on supernatural violence, but an attack on a human.”
Kinge was quiet for several long moments. “And why do I need to be the one to contact Magiford? Anyone can fill out a report.”
“Yes, but you have contacts inside Magiford,” Daphne said. “And speed is the key here. The locals haven’t realized the attack was carried out by a supernatural, yet. The faster the report is processed, the faster we can get it covered up before any humans realize what happened.”
Now this is something I didn’t suspect…
Of course, despite never rubbing shoulders with the supernaturals, I’d assumed they had less than legal practices in place to keep a friendly, squeaky clean public image with humans. (Only a na?ve fool would assume the image they presented us with was what supernaturals were actually like.)
But I’d never thought about it enough to consider just how much supernaturals covered up!
I sat very quietly in my chair and tried not to draw attention to myself.
Kinge tilted his head as he considered Daphne’s point. “What happened?” he finally asked.
Daphne’s shoulders briefly hunched with relief.
She exchanged a look with her little brother, then fixed her posture.
“An Algoma local—a woman named Michelle Wagner—was attacked within city limits. The humans assume it was the work of rebellious teens as she was attacked from behind. Our Pack is fairly sure it was a supernatural.”
I tried to keep my expression placid. Michelle Wagner… I’m pretty sure that’s the woman Shannon and Jonas were talking about when they told me I needed to be careful around town…
Kinge leaned back in his chair. “Why is that?”
“Our aunt works for the hospital,” Flint said. “She got a good look at the woman and said not only was she low on blood, but her numerous scratches were clearly nails.”
Daphne nodded eagerly. “Not claws, so whatever supernatural attacked her wasn’t a changed shifter, but it could have easily been a werewolf in their human form, or a vampire or even a fae creature that got loose.”
I guess the doctor’s first guess of a rabid raccoon wasn’t so far off.
Kinge nodded, then once again turned his intimidating gaze to me. “Your heartbeat changed once they mentioned Michelle Wagner.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “When I went out over the weekend, I saw your house cleaners. They told me about Michelle, and said the community was worried but baffled.” I paused, then reluctantly added.
“The doctor who saw her initially thought she could have been attacked by a rabid raccoon.”
“I see.” Kinge said. “In that case it does sound like a potential supernatural attack.”
“Are there lots of supernaturals in the area?” I asked.
Kinge shook his head. “In Algoma it’s really just myself and the Ahnapee River Pack, but fae do pass through this area, and occasionally a Lone Wolf or an Unclaimed vampire come through, so it is possibly the work of an interloper.”
He was quiet for a few moments, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he thought.
Daphne fidgeted and glanced at her brother, but Flint kept his eyes on Kinge and looked a little bored.
“Fine,” King abruptly said. “Send me the details of the attack—the day it took place, the approximate time, and any medical notes your aunt can get ahold of without getting fired. I’ll pass them on to my contacts in Magiford—but only because if it is the work of a roaming supernatural, the government officials in Magiford need to start watching for possible patterns. ”
Daphne beamed. “Understood. Thank you so much, Mr. Kinge.”
Flint slightly bowed his head. “Thank you, Mr. Kinge.”
Kinge waved them off. “Yeah, yeah. Stop your bowing and scraping—I know you’re just happy you’re being spared all the paperwork.”
“We’ll head out so we can get the information to you tonight,” Daphne said, prowling towards the door. (The longer I was with the werewolf duo the more I noticed how different they were from a regular human.)
I stood up. “I’ll let you out, then.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Daphne beamed at me from the doorway. “Flint and I know our way around this place. Have a great night, Mr. Kinge. It was lovely meeting you, Abi!” Daphne darted into the hallway before I could reply.
Flint followed her, pausing just long enough to bow his head at Mr. Kinge before he disappeared into the shadows of the hallway.
“That was educational,” I said as I heard the squeak of their steps on the staircase.
“I’m serious about my order,” Kinge said. “Don’t let them back in here—even if they beg.”
“That seems rude,” I said.
“So? You’re not a fae,” Kinge said.
“Are fae against rudeness?”
“Fae follow a very strict set of rules and love to play mind games all in the name of good manners,” Kinge said.
“Sounds fun to hang out with.” Copying the siblings—if a werewolf Alpha bowed to Kinge, he had to be more powerful than I’d thought—I bowed my head. “My shift is over, so I’ll be heading out.”
“Your shift was over well before the werewolf siblings arrived,” Kinge said.
I pressed my lips together and wondered if I should risk arguing with him and pointing out that he was the one who had me come up here with them, but I didn’t have much rapport with him and I desperately wanted to keep this job…
I think I understand why the fae have rules for manners.
“Yes, I apologize for the extra time,” I said, struggling to keep my voice neutral.
Kinge snorted, but his attention was no longer on me but on his cellphone as he pulled it out and started tapping away, seemingly texting someone.
“Have a good night!” I zipped out of the study and hurried down the hallway, nearly tripping down the stairs in my rush to leave before giving Kinge a chance to say anything judgmental in response.
It seemed that—given Kinge’s personality and the new expectations he was adding—I was going to have to do some research on supernaturals.