Chapter 14 #2
The set of Beckett’s jaw hardened.
“Let me guess,” I said, interpreting the irritated set of his brow. “They’re here because of your power, and stick specifically to your beach.”
His silence told me everything.
I hooted in amusement as sweat dripped down my back from the hot air and intense sun. “You know it is downright hilarious that you’re so intent on staying on the down low, when supernaturals are drawn to you like a beacon because of how powerful you are!”
“If you tell the gnomes they’re here, I’ll sentence you to basement cleaning for the rest of the summer,” Beckett warned, but there was a playfulness in his tone.
“Right, right, right,” I said. “I’ll note that in my house manager book, right along with the rule not to call your chat group the Crusty Old Man Club to your face.”
Beckett tapped his fingers on the table. “Didn’t we come here so you could attempt to swim in Lake Michigan so you could cross it off your tourist list? Commence with your trying.” He swatted his hand in my direction.
I fixed the back of my water shoe, which made a satisfying snap. “Fine, fine. But I was just making some observations.”
I strode across the sandy beach, giving the little griffins a wide berth since they’d finally rolled back onto their feet and were ‘alive’ once again.
As I’d discovered on my attempted fishing trip, Lake Michigan had genuine waves like the ocean, which were big enough to even crest. So it felt a lot like an ocean beach as I squelched my way across the wet sand in my water shoes, innocently headed into the water.
I held my foam kickboard above my head and tried to judge what part of the beach looked the most even, when the first wave hit me.
I figured the lake would be on the cooler side—like the ocean—given its size.
I was not expecting icy cold water that literally took my breath away and instantly turned my ankles and feet red.
I tried to shriek, but the frosty chill of the water made me take a whistling inhale at the same time, so I uttered a garbled wail as I jumped leaped backwards, out of the lake’s reach.
My strangled noise made one of the seagull-possum griffins stiffen and flop over in another round of playing dead. The rest of the flock hopped around and ruffled their wings or made the weird hissing noise.
Beckett remained seated in his chair, unbothered by my display. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked.
“The problem,” I stressed, “Is that the water is glacier cold!”
“Oh?” Beckett said in a way that meant he knew perfectly well it was freezing and had chosen not to warn me for the sake of amusement.
I experimentally dipped the toe of one water shoe in the lake and shuddered. “What is wrong with this place? The pebble beaches are like walking on coals, but the lake itself is so cold I’m surprised ice isn’t floating on the surface!”
“As Lake Michigan is so large, it is much slower to warm compared to other lakes and in these parts it usually stays under 60 degrees Fahrenheit for the month of June.”
“You knew this and you chose not to warn me?”
“I told you to wait for warmer temperatures,” Beckett said. “But you insisted on trying.”
“I thought you meant warmer air temperature, not that the lake is so cold it’s practically a polar plunge,” I complained.
Before Beckett could say more smug things to me, my phone—left on the table by him—rang.
I grumbled under my breath as I marched back to his table, the dry sand sticking to my shoes.
Swooping in to grab my phone, my mood brightened when I saw who the caller was. “Daphne! Thank you for calling me back!”
“Sure thing! Sorry it took me so long to get back to you—we had a Pack run last night that lasted until the early hours this morning so I was still sleeping when you called. What’s up?”
Glancing at Beckett, I turned my back to him and wandered down the beach. He still could probably hear the conversation given supernaturals’ superior senses, but at least this way he wouldn’t see my facial expression, too. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch at Caffè Tlazo.”
“Sure! I love that place! But was that all? On the voicemail you left you mentioned Mr. Kinge gave you a few insights on the supernatural attacker cases.”
“Yeah, but I figure we can chat about it while at Caffè Tlazo and people watch,” I said.
Behind me, Beckett scoffed—likely at the idea that an introvert like me would want to inflict myself with people.
He wasn’t wrong. I’d probably have to shut myself up in his library for two hours to recover when I came home from the café.
Not because interacting with Daphne was difficult, but because every local seemed to feel honor bound to say hello and exchange social niceties, and there were only so many new ways I could come up with to discuss the weather.
“You’re with him right now?” Daphne said, incredulous. (Possibly because it was early afternoon, making it surprising Beckett was up and about given his nocturnal nature.)
“How did you know?”
“I heard his snort through the phone line, along with beach sounds. What are you two doing at the local beach?”
“We’re not at the local beach, we’re at Beckett’s fancy lake front house, which I’m very glad I don’t have to manage on top of his mansion given how much work that solo building has turned out to be,” I said.
I listened to Daphne sputter for a few moments, then added. “Feel free to invite Flint, too. Although I imagine he’d get bored as I don’t know if sitting at a café is what kids consider a good time.”
“You remember he’s going to be an Alpha, right?”
“What does that have to do with the likelihood of getting bored?”
“Alphas like Flint are built different.”
“Was he born a little old man who never liked playing with toys?”
Daphne laughed. “That’s not what I meant, but that’s okay. It’s good for him to have someone treat him like a kid. Anyway, when were you thinking we’d meet up?”
Daphne and I made the necessary arrangements, then said our goodbyes.
By the time I’d hung up, I’d wandered back to Beckett’s table so I could drop off my phone.
Beckett lounged under the shade of his umbrella. “I’d praise you for being social and making friends, but why do I get the feeling you’re meeting up because you intend to stick your nose in supernatural business and look for the rogue vampire?”
“You’re the one who insists on staying out of it.”
“Yes. And as a human you should, too.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “I can too be involved. I’m a concerned citizen!”
Beckett stood up. “I’m not saying you can’t, I’m saying you shouldn’t. It’s too dangerous. The vampire has already proven they see nothing wrong with snacking on humans. If they figure out you’re sniffing around for them, they may decide to preemptively take you out.”
That’s not a fun thought, though he’s not wrong.
I rubbed my arms, feeling chilled despite the warm summer air. “True. But I didn’t really intend on sniffing around, as you said. I was just going to share information with Daphne and find out if her Pack found any new clues.”
The slant of Beckett’s lips said I’d failed to convince him.
“I am invested in finding this vampire, but I also understand a vampire’s superior abilities and know I should be the last person to directly face him or her,” I said.
Beckett rubbed his fake crown tattoo on his neck. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
I stood there like an awkward troll, not sure how I was supposed to react.
My family cared deeply about me, but my handful of close friends were all people I’d known since elementary school. Beckett saying he didn’t want to see me hurt felt very different than hearing my friends or family say it.
“Which is why I request that you carry this.” Beckett pulled a black, plastic, textured rectangle that resembled a credit card, except it was slightly thicker out of a pocket of his slacks.
“What is it?”
“A GPS tracker. I have it synced to my phone, so no matter what trouble you get yourself into, I can find you,” Beckett said. “You don’t have to take it if you feel it is a personal breech.”
I took the card, flipping it over for inspection. “Nah. We’ve been over this—we’re friends, aren’t we? Besides, you’re trusting me with the secret of you being a vampire. I can trust you with my location. But how do I carry it?”
“In your wallet—like a credit card.”
“How very sophisticated.” I crouched next to my beach bag I’d packed for today, digging around it until I found my wallet. “But thank you for caring enough to get this set up.”
Beckett nodded. “As you said, we’re friends. I can’t help but be concerned with your…concern.”
“Don’t worry,” I stood up and brushed off my knees. “I have good self-preservation instincts.”
Beckett tilted his head as he considered me. “I’m not sure you do, given our interactions.”
“I already told you, I begged you to keep me on because of my student loans, and between you and debt, debt is a lot scarier.”
“That is why I got you a tracker that fits in your wallet—because knowing you, you’d part with everything but your wallet no matter the situation. And that’s not what I was referring to. I meant the amount of sass you give me on a daily basis despite my nature.”
“That’s different,” I protested. “You’re different!”
“Am I?” Beckett’s voice was a tad rough, and when I glanced at him, my heart stuttered.
I’d been aware from meeting him that Beckett was classically handsome, as most vampires were. But the way he studied me, his wine red eyes almost glowing, I really understood how vampires could use their looks to lure humans in.
I need to snap out of it. He can probably hear how much my heartbeat has sped up!
My awkwardness manifested into a lump in my throat, and I coughed. “Of course. Now if you’d excuse me, I have a lake to swim in.”
“Even though it’s so cold?”
“Fine, Mr. Picky and Precise. I have a lake to go stand by!”
I marched across the beach, my grand exit slightly tarnished by the squelching noises my water shoes made.
A couple of the seagull-possum griffins scurried after me. When I glanced at them, two immediately played dead, flopping over with impressive dedication to their act.
I’d have to take a picture of them before we left. There was no way I was swimming today, but between the trash griffins and lovely sand, at least the beach excursion wasn’t a bust. Plus, I was genuinely looking forward to seeing Daphne and going to Caffè Tlazo.
Yes, that was the spirit. I needed to focus on realistic things. Not handsome vampires who were dedicated to staying hidden from the public.
I was working here temporarily. Beckett had made it clear that was necessary given his patterns. Nothing good would come of dwelling on him. No matter how much fun he was.