Blood Crazed E-Book

Jo Wilde

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Twenty-two-year-old Phoenix Brown is property of the Society: an evil faction under the umbrella of the Illuminati. Her sole purpose is hunting and eliminating vampires; a duty she relishes.

When Phoenix follows a lead in a small Louisiana town, she partners up with an unlikely ally: the alluring, centuries-old vampire Damián de Soto.

An incorrigible, vain flirt, de Soto can't seem to keep his hands to himself. But the huntress has to swallow her pride, as she realizes she needs his help to solve the town's murders. Partnering up with a cocky vampire is asking for trouble, and soon Damián begins to melt Phoenix's cold steel wall.

The clock is ticking and peril brewing, when clues lead to suspect a werewolf may be behind the killings. Soon, secrets are unveiled, and lives shattered forever.

From author Jo Wilde comes a seductive, heart-throbbing tale that mingles romance, mystery and vampire lore into an extraordinary read.

Leseprobe

Blood Crazed

THE PHOENIX SERIES BOOK 1

JO WILDE

Copyright (C) 2022 Jo Wilde

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.

I always thought when my time came, I’d just die. No picking door number one or number two. But here I sit at crossroads of choices. Do I accept death, or do I choose to live a life as a creature I once despised?

Contents

Prologue

1. The Assignment

2. Witch Haven

3. Void of Empathy

4. Meet the Sheriff

5. Innocence of a Child

6. Huntress

7. Don’t Invite One In

8. Phoen’s Pub

9. Twas the Fifteenth

10. Animal Attack

11. Dark Alliances

12. Tough Enough

13. Sensitivity

14. Summons

15. Magic Carpet Ride

16. Distraction

17. The Claw

18. Escargots

19. The Forbidding Forest

20. Rotten Eggs

21. Too Close to Home

22. Haunted Mansion

23. Eyes Wide Open

24. Spittin’ Nails

25. Cursed

26. The Scent of Wildflowers

About the Author

Prologue

FORGOTTEN DREAMS

Once upon a time, in an enchanted land, there lived a beautiful princess. Merely a child, she lived a charmed life adored by all the kingdom: her parents, the King and Queen, and all the royal courts and commoners who bowed at her feet.

On the eve of the princess’ birth, it was the grandest day of all in Erewhon. From as far as the azure sea, noblemen and noblewomen from all the four seasoned courts arrived in gilded carriages dressed in their fine, satin gowns and frockcoats, bringing precious gold and rare spices of cinnamon and saffron to honor a very special princess born of extraordinary abilities.

Throughout the majestic kingdom, all the subjects, royal, and the masses revered the newborn princess. There was promise of eternal goodwill over all the enchanted land.

Every night at bedtime, tucking the royal princess in her cozy bed, the Queen and King would share stories about a great privilege, a noble duty bestowed upon her young majesty. One day when the child was old enough, the princess would sit upon the golden throne and rule her father’s kingdom. And when the perfect time came, she’d give her hand in marriage to a handsome prince, and together they’d fill the castle with mirthful children and live happily ever after. There would never be any threat of war. Peace would prevail forever in Faeryland; precious dreams of a parent. And for a while, the dreams were bountiful. Peace and prosperity blanketed the enchanted land for five years.

Then one night, happiness was ripped from the peaceful land. A storm blanketed the kingdom with vile resolve. Dark, brutal clouds gathered, devouring the night’s glistening stars. Hallowing gusts swept over the villages, destroying everything in its wake as thunder roared, sending violent bolts of lightning streaking the angry sky with fierce tenacity.

At a frightening moment’s notice, the princess’ shutters burst open with a loud crash, and a looming silhouette of a man appeared on the window ledge, but an ordinary man, he was not.

Mighty black wings cast dark shadows over the man’s face as evil slithered its way into the child’s room, poisoning the air with malevolence.

Quiet as a mouse, the fair princess lay under the cover, shivering from the intruder, listening. Talons scraped the royal floor as the echoing sound of water dripping grew loudercloser. Tap, tap, tap, the noise stilled the child’s breath.

In a blink, the princess’ blanket disappeared and sharp claws snatched her up into the grim arms of a strange dark-winged man. The young child was so terrified, not a sound uttered from her delicate lips, not even a whimper escaped.

With the royal princess tucked in iron arms, the strange winged man, in three long strides, climbed onto the window sill and unfurled his dark wings. Lightning streaked the ominous sky jolting the princess with forbidding. Ignoring the small child’s trembling, the dark winged stranger shoved off the ledge and ascended into the grim sky. Higher and higher, his black wings fluttered in a slow, powerful motion disappearing into the blackness.

Rain and bitter wind slapped at the princess’ face as she squeezed her eyes closed, trembling beyond her imagination. The tiny princess prayed to the goddess that this strange winged man was merely a bad dream. But that stormy starless night, the child’s prayers went unheard.

The princess’ mysterious disappearance left the land shattered. Sorrow spread over the magickal kingdom like the black plague. Mad with grief, the King ordered the Royal Guard to search the land from the emerald forest to the snowcapped mountains. Not a stone was to go unturned.

After burdensome days and nights of searching, the Royal Guard, heavily shouldered and with grief-stricken faces, returned to the King and Queen, announcing their forlorn failure.

The princess was lost forever. And since that stormy night, blight fell upon the enchanted kingdom, and the King died of a broken heart, and the Queen died of great grief.

Chapter1

The Assignment

The Present

I loved Manhattan. If I could choose one place in the world to live, it’d be Ninety-First Street between West End and Broadway. My favorite street to stroll. I especially loved spring with the towering cherry blossom trees swaying in the gentle breeze, scattering its pleasant perfume, shading the majestic brownstones, row after row. It stole my breath every time.

Owning one of these lovely rowhouses with its impressive curb appeal would be a dream come true. I imagined myself sitting by the bay window sipping tea on a lazy Sunday watching people stroll by.

Every day I’d make a stop at my favorite shop, the Levine Bakery, for a delicious sweet roll and hot coffee. Maybe have lunch at my favorite eatery, Café Bee. They had the best pancakes.

One of the many great perks of the city was easy access to the sights throughout the five boroughs riding the Transit. Or taking a lazy walk, enjoying the view, to a popular restaurant? There was so much to choose from.

Inspiration abounds from all corners of Manhattan: art galleries, Central Park, theatre, and ballet. The city was alive and never rested.

I belonged here among people from all walks of life. No one seemed to notice anyone. They carried on with their daily lives, closed off with their own troubles. No one saw me. Alone, with only my thoughts to keep me company, I walked the streets, passing strangers, ate the food, and fed the pigeons like any other typical New Yorker, continuing to be invisible, going unnoticed, unseen. I lived like a ghost. No one knew me or my secret.

No matter how hard I tried to fade into the crowd, my secret clung to me like an infectious disease. One day, my fate would come and force me to face my demise. I felt it in my bones. But for now, I carried on. Did my job and kept my opinions to myself.

Just as I slipped the key through the door, my cell blasted its silly ringtone, Manamana. Stupid. But it made me laugh. Hands full of two grocery sacks, I didn’t bother to look. Other than the occasional wrong number, John was the only person on my contact list. John, my handler, insisted I stay invisible, fading into the pedestrian traffic. Dress like the common folk heading to work. Blend. Never stand out.

It was a challenge to fade into the crowd with my bright ginger hair. My handler insisted I use hair color, mousey brown. That was the one time that I’d put my foot down. He could’ve shot me for my defiance, but I didn’t care. I asked for only one thing—my hair color.

To most, my imposition might’ve seemed inane. My hair was the only thing I owned. I’d never been given a recorded name, no birth certificate, no proof I existed. My identity was zero. I walked among humans, faceless. So John compromised. I wore hats.

I made a mad dash to dig my phone out of my oversize bag as I stepped inside my house. The brush of warmth rushed over me. I inhaled the soothing heat. I’d forgotten my coat this morning. The whole walk home, a stiff breeze coasted up my thin, cotton blouse, and my hands were stiff and numb. I didn’t realize how chilly Manhattan was in spring.

My stay here was only temporary. It was a shame too. I loved this beautiful brownstone that John had provided for me. The deep mahogany wood floors, bay windows, a turn of the century marbled fireplace, along with an impressive matching staircase leading to three bedrooms, was more house than I’d ever use. But the idea of filling it with family was a notion that I didn’t dare dwell on. In my line of work, family would not be doable.

It was always the same story. Never staying in one place long. Once I completed an assignment, I headed off to the next.

I supposed I was lucky. I never wanted for anything. John looked after me, taking care of the arrangements while instructing me of my duties.

I covered the V-Files. Many folks knew nothing about the existence of vampires other than film or fictional books. Little did the general consensus know the truth. Whenever an infestation arose, the Society sent me in to exterminate.

I’d just finished a job and thought I’d celebrate tonight with a special dinner and a glass of my favorite red wine, Carneros Pinot Noir.

“Ah!” I found my phone at the bottom of my bag, hidden under several items. I knocked my lipstick and billfold out of the way and dug my fingers around the phone. Swiping the green button to answer, I barked. “God! What now?” John never called for personal reasons. All business and no sense of humor.

“Must you always be so snappy?”

Holding the phone with my chin pressed against my shoulder, hands full of groceries, I used my foot to kick the door shut and made my way into the small galley kitchen. I mindlessly dropped the groceries on the counter and blew a long strand of hair out of my face. “Let me guess. You have another assignment for me.”

“Aren’t you on your game today? Now be a good girl and pack your things. I’ve already arranged for your flight. Your landlord, Ms. Wilson, is aware of your departure. By tomorrow, she won’t remember that you ever existed.”

“You mean erasing her memory? After flashing that little gismo in her face, the poor woman won’t remember her dog’s name. How can you do that to an innocent person and sleep at night? What about the long-term effect?”

“Your landlord doesn’t have a dog,” he said drily.

“That’s not my point.”

“Out of bounds. You’re out of bounds, Phoenix. You don’t get to complain or even have an opinion. You do your job. That’s all you should concern yourself with.”

“I know. I know. A slave has no rights, right? I’m to shut up and do my job and eat all my greens.”

“You’re lucky you have me for your handler. Anyone else would’ve had you dead in a manner of seconds.”

“Yeah, yeah! I’m a lucky girl, all right. I carry an implant inside my body that has enough gun powder to blow up the whole block if I so much as veer down the wrong street. Up in smoke in a matter of seconds.” Anger coursed through me. “I get it. You and the Society have me on a tight leash.”

“I don’t make the rules, Phoen. I only enforce them.”

I rolled my eyes. “There are times I hate you.”

“Yes, but I am the only caretaker you have.”

My appetite suddenly vanished, and cynicism stepped in its place. I reached inside one of the grocery sacks, pulled out a steak wrapped in white paper and dropped it into the trashcan. I listened to the loud thud as it landed. I’d been drooling over that juicy steak and looking forward to watching a mindless movie tonight. Just a little quiet. No-fuss, no-muss, and no interruptions. I should’ve known better. I huffed out a long breath. “What’s my assignment?” Ire churned in my voice. I didn’t care if John heard my frustration. He was a stone wall when it came to my feelings anyway. Considering my needs was like a Tupperware party. It didn’t interest him.

“Your plane ticket is in your coat pocket hanging in the closet. You have a midnight flight heading to DFW Airport. From there, there will be a gentleman waiting for you holding an envelope with money and the keys to a Harley, candy apple red. You’ll leave from there and head southeast to Witch Haven, Louisiana.”

I grabbed the wine bottle out of the sack and stared at it longingly. “Never heard of the town.”

“It’s a quaint little Podunk town overrun with supernatural activity. It’s become conspicuous. Too many people are disappearing. I want you to handle it.”

“What’s my cover?”

“You are a divorced woman, setting up a pub. Your living space is above the joint. I think you’ll fit in just fine with your charm.”

“Ha, ha! Funny guy.” People kept their distance from me. Not sure if it was the vibe I seemed to put out, but folks often kept on the opposite side of the street whenever they saw me coming. Maybe it was the constant sneer on my face. I generally didn’t speak much. Less words, less explaining, less folks prying into my affairs. It was a safety precaution. Not for me but if the Society or best known as the Illuminati, discovered someone knew about their precious contrivances, he’d be dead before the sun rose the next morning.

“I hope you can handle your liquor,” sarcasm rolled off John’s tongue. “I want you to play the role of a tough biker chick that likes to party and drink. Pump up the attitude. That should be easy for you. Don’t bother packing much. I got that handled but do bring your stake collection.”

“I never leave the house without it,” I frowned.

“I taught you well, Phoenix Brown. Make me proud.”

Dread began to seep through my veins. Slaying vampires had become redundant to me. A job I once relished in, but now I’d grown tired of it. I’d rather stay here in the city, maybe catch Broadway. “Isn’t there another type of mission you could send me on? What about a Russian spy turned fanger?”

“This is nothing you can’t handle. You were born for this kind of work.”

“Who inquired of my services?” I supposed it would be a good idea to know the person I’d be reporting to. Though, after all the years I’d spent slaying monsters, the faces of those that had requested my services blurred together. The hires were all shady. A lot of them were connected to the Society. Some were mad scientists with Frankenstein-like experiments that had gone wrong. My favorite was assisting an old lady that had a vampire tied and gagged in her cellar.

Come to find out, the frail woman that walked with a cane was a witch and used some of his blood for a potion. Could you believe she was trying to restore her youth? I laughed until I nearly peed in my pants. She failed miserably and needed me to stake the fanger. Her magic couldn’t kill him. The poor fellow had been stripped down to the buff and half-starved. I didn’t dare ask why the fanger was naked.

John cleared his throat, grabbing my attention. “It’s two brothers, Hernando and Damián De Soto. They’re a bit strange, but both are equally determined to keep the locals safe. Plan to be working closely with the brothers. They are expecting the murders to be resolved promptly.”

“This job is gonna be the death of me. What will you do then?”

“Phoen, you can’t die. You’re immortal.” My cell suddenly went black. I sighed heavily. Glad someone has confidence in me. Taking on a couple of vampires was a cakewalk, but an entire town, I wasn’t so sure.

If I were a free woman, I’d stay right here and live in this brownstone. Easier said than done. I didn’t have a driver’s license, no social security number, no bank account. I was a young woman. I assumed somewhere around twenty-two. And I was lost in a sea of faceless people. I could become anyone but never belong to myself.

I was a slave.

For my entire childhood, I lived in a cage. The Society tried to disguise it as a regular girl’s bedroom, a princess bed, dolls, and pretty pink dresses with lots of pink bows. But I was locked away from the world, deprived of an ordinary life. I could never indulge in silliness such as playdays with other children my age. My schooling was held in a military building under heavy guard. John Ford tutored me. He taught me everything: calculus, English, history, French, Italian and proper manners but mostly how to fight.

I excelled in self-defense. Weaponry was my specialty. I lived up to my species … asupersoldier.

Chapter2

Witch Haven

I rolled into town at midnight. John’s directions were exactly precise. I killed my Harley and shrugged off my backpack. A helmet wasn’t necessary. I didn’t break like mundanes. I was the exemplar of hardheadedness.

I blew out a long breath feeling the lift from the heavy load. I brought the necessities. Wooden stakes and petrified garlic. All the accessories a girl needed. At least this girl.

I studied the old building. Blistered hands came to mind. The neon sign hung half off its hinges and screeched like a screen door in a hurricane. One of the panes from the front window was shattered, shards of glass lay in a pile underneath on the dirt. Looked like a fight had taken place. Someone had gotten pitched. If it had been a break-in, the glass would’ve fallen on the inside.

Fights cropped up all the time in dives like this joint. I’d be disappointed if one didn’t occur at least once a week. “Oh, what fun!” I blew out an aggravated sigh. I guessed that the inside mirrored the outside … disarray, full of cobwebs and wrecked chairs and tables. I bet the apartment was just as bad. Nothing compared to the brownstone that I hated leaving.

I spotted a flight of stairs off to my left at the side of the pub. If I were a betting girl, I’d make a wager that those rickety stairs led up to my dusty old apartment, directly above the bar.

After unmounting my bike, I headed toward the stairs. I glanced up at the street light or what was left. It looked as though someone had taken a rock to it. Glass pooled around the bottom of the pole. “Damn!” I hated the dark. Especially a new place I wasn’t familiar with. After all my training, you’d think such a little thing wouldn’t bother me but it did. I hoped this apartment had electricity and hot water. I could use a shower after riding for hours on the dusty back roads.

My stomach unexpectedly growled. The steak came to mind. I hadn’t eaten dinner and my stomach was starting to protest. I supposed I should be grateful that I had the money to replace it. John funded my adventures very handsomely.

I spotted a red neon sign across the street reading Witch Haven Diner. The place shined like a beacon with all its bright lights.

The idea of pancakes suddenly made my mouth water. Mindlessly, I licked my lips. I had a weakness for melted butter and maple syrup over fluffy cakes. Good thing I had a fast metabolism. I’d eat pancakes twenty-four seven.

A slight detour. I decided to check out my new crib after I had a full belly. I snatched my keys, donned my backpack, and trotted across the street. Good idea to get a feel for the town, chatting up with a local before I dove into my new position. Waitresses were always full of the latest gossip. They were the eyes and ears of the town.

As I passed the doors, a splash of warmth bathed my face, and the smell of hot grease swirled my senses. “Ah!” I groaned—the typical smell of a diner. I took a booth by a window directly across from the bar. I stared at the trodden place when I noticed a waitress with blonde stick hair approach.

“Evenin’ honey,” she drawled in a deep throaty voice. “You want coffee while you’re decidin’?” She handed me a menu.

“I don’t need a minute. I’ll have a coffee. Loads of cream, Splenda, and pancakes with maple syrup,” I smiled, handing the menu back.

“I’ll get that right out,” she smiled blandly.

“Hey, I’m new to town. I’m opening the bar across the street. Any tips about the locals?”

The waitress paused, favoring her weight on her left. “Yep,” she replied, smacking her gum. “Keep to yourself. This town’s full of kooks. After all, it ain’t called Witch Haven for nothin’,” she flashed a curt smile and turned her back to me, leaving.

Then I grabbed her attention. “What do you mean?”

She half-turned, facing me. “I mean like every supernatural being you can imagine. I carry garlic spray on me at all times. I wear a cross, too.” She dug her neckless out from under her shirt. “Stay home at night unless you wanna be someone’s dinner.”

I arched a brow. Smart girl. “Supernatural beings, huh?”

“Yeah, like freaky creatures that little children have nightmares about.” Her voice came off snarky. I sensed it all stemmed from fear. Deep-seated fear. Though the girl intrigued me.

“Why stay if this town frightens you?” I studied her face to measure her purpose. It made no sense to me.

“I can’t. I have roots here. Family,” she shrugged. “Anyway, where would I go? Ain’t got a pot to piss in, let alone a window to throw it out of.” A frown drew across her face as she stuck her pencil behind her ear and darted off. Looked like this town had some major troubles. Wait ‘til they get a load of me. I shook my head, watching the waitress disappear behind the white double doors.

I didn’t get why John sent me here. Usually, fangers preferred cities. Easier to blend. Less conspicuous. Fading into the woodwork around here would take some clever maneuvering.

My eyes roamed over the empty booths. I was the only customer in the joint. Only nine o’clock, not a soul on the street either. So strangely quiet. The whole town appeared closed for the night. I guessed the locals had the same sentiments as the waitress. If the town shared worriment, I expected to have a challenge drawing customers. Folks may not be so keen on testing their luck with hungry vampires lurking the night.

After I’d finished my late dinner, I paid my bill and headed back to my new home. I figured I’d gotten all I was going to from the waitress. Seeing the fright in her brown eyes and witnessing the empty street, she told me all I needed to know. This town had an infestation problem. I smelled the creatures’ vile blood in the cool night air.

Back at the bar and trotting up the rickety wooden stairs, it creaked with every step. I held my breath, half expecting it to collapse, sending me to the ground with a hard whomp.

Why John picked this old place baffled me. All the money he’d have to sink into this place before it was ready to open struck me as imprudent. The liability, for example. If the ceiling toppled down on someone, we’d surely get sued.

I had a bad feeling about this pad. It felt too open, unprotected. A fanger busting down my door didn’t concern me. The undead had to be invited before entering a private dwelling. Now the occasional burglar was another story.

I preferred my living space to be as tight as Fort Knox. Securing this little ramshackle flat was the first thing on my list. I’d like to sleep with both eyes closed. The bar was a different story. Since it was a public establishment, any creature, human or not, had an open invitation. But in my private quarters, I intended to keep unwanted guests from entering.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside, dropping my bag next to the door on the wooden plank floor. The apartment was pitch-dark. I brushed my hand across the wall at the entrance and found the switch. A large lamp beside the sofa showered the room with golden light.

I pursed my lips, taking in the full panorama of my new home. A quaint space, I thought. A small living room, hardwood floors, a tiny kitchenette off to the left. A dusty, small table in the corner by the only window in the kitchen. “John must’ve forgotten to have the place cleaned.” I laughed as I moved forward, checking out the rest of the pad.

In the bedroom, I found a wrought iron bed, folded sheets, and a blanket—a small nightstand with a lamp and a chest of drawers against the wall on the right. The one bathroom was just off the bedroom—a tight space with an adequate shower.

I blew out a long breath, digesting my new home sweet home. It was a far cry from the brownstone, but it would be sufficient. I didn’t need much. After I finished ridding the town of its pesty critters, I’d be off to my next assignment. Always another town, new faces, but still the same old song. The Society didn’t allow me to stay long anywhere. People would begin to notice that I didn’t age. Sorta hard to blend when your drinkin’ buddies aged and you didn’t.

I learned a long time ago not to become attached. It complicated things. So I adapted by shutting off my emotions. Feel nothing, just consuming an empty soul.

Suddenly distracted from my thoughts, I heard faint footsteps at the door. A sharp ringing in my head commenced. The ringing was my built-in radar detector. I knew that meant only one thing. “Damn!” I mumbled under my breath. I’d left my bag of goodies in the front room. At least the vampire couldn’t enter. I had time to reach my weapons before the blood bath commenced. Nothing to fret about. I was safe as long as I didn’t invite him in. Fat chance that was happening.

Quiet as a mouse, I stepped into the front room as my eyes collided with the fanger standing at the entrance. Vampires were different than humans. They sucked the air out of the atmosphere, and I loathed the bloodsuckers.

This fanger stood tall, dressed in a tailored gray suit and poised with authority, scrutinizing my presence from head to toe. His eyes, a pale green, brimming with intrigue. Hair, trimmed short, white as snow, made his flawless skin appear radiant and … ominous.

“You must be the welcoming committee. Isn’t it past your bedtime?” I welcomed danger. An addiction that I grew to love. Yet one day, it’d be my downfall. But for now, I reveled in its seductive mock. I eased over to my bag of stakes and tightened my fingers around one. I began twirling it, taunting him.

He flashed a courtly smile, revealing his sharp pearly fangs. “I see you brought accessories.” There was a hint of genteel in his voice, soft as satin yet deadly as cyanide. His strange hypnotizing eyes drew me to him. “You do not need to fear me. I promise no harm.”

“I never knew a fanger that wasn’t thirsty.”

He stepped up to the threshold of the door. “Perdón for my candor but your blood is intoxicating.” His eyes were heavily hooded as if he were high on opium. “I struggle to contain my thirst. Such a divine aroma, lavender and peaches, I believe.” He swallowed hard. “However, I am not here to feed. You have my word. I come in peace.”

“A vampire with honor. Now that’s something new,” I narrowed my eyes. “Please don’t hurt me, Mr. Vampire. I’m just a girl new to town.”

“New, you are correct but ordinary, you are not. A simpleton with tainted blood and a deadly stake, I shalt be deluded so easily.” His quizzical brow arched. “If my senses serve me well, I believe the stake is rose. Obviously, you’re a girl that knows her stakes. The kind that surely will kill a vampire.”

“What a coincidence.” A mischievous smile curved my mouth. He must be hyperosmia. A fanger with a heightened sense more so than most of his kind.

“I believe your courage is as striking as your flaming hair. I am quite intrigued, Miss Brown.” When my eyes blinked, the vampire had swept me weightlessly into his arms, pressing his firm, perfect body against mine. He tenderly stroked a strand of hair through his fingers.

Instinctively, my back straightened. The stake had vanished from my hand. Defenseless, I didn’t dare move. “I don’t recall inviting you inside my home,” I hissed.

He whispered, his breath cool against my ear. “I am not a customary vampire. Unless you call four hundred years wonted. I am Hernando. The oldest of the de Soto brothers.”

“Wait! The de Soto brothers who hired me?”

“Sí. Señor Ford did not tell you?”

“No. He must’ve forgotten.”

“This town belongs to my brother and me,” he paused. “Perdón me for my lack of manners. It is late. I have intruded without the proper invite. Please forgive my impudence. We shall speak soon. Perhaps tomorrow when you have rested.” He ran his thumb down my neck and gently kissed my hair. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for an attack. I expected a bloody duel. He’d try to rip my throat out, and I’d thrust my elbow in his gut and make a dive for my bag of stakes.

Instead, he disappeared, leaving nothing but a quick brush of cold air and flickers of shadows in his wake. Spidy chills crawled down my spine as I stood stunned in the middle of my living room.

All at once, anger, shock, and just pissed off coursed through my veins. “I needed to have a serious talk with John!”

After my quickened pulse had quieted, I hurried to shut the door and lock it. Though a lock did very little to keep a vampire out once they had access to your home.

I leaned against the door for support. The rules of the game had changed. This fanger no longer needed an invite to enter my home. This little hitch in the road had me rattled. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Chapter3

Void of Empathy

Morning arose too early. I didn’t sleep well last night after my unanticipated encounter with Hernando de Soto. I had a strange feeling about this assignment. It came across as awry. Even disturbing. Following my conversation with John earlier, he was irritated with me more than usual. I remembered our conversation verbatim. It was short and far from sweet.

“You left out a crucial ingredient about my assignment,” my voice full of scold. “For example, the de Soto brothers? I had an encounter with Hernando. He entered my home uninvited last night.”

“I didn’t feel like listening to you bitch.”

“I know my place. Servants aren’t given free will. You could’ve at least warned me.”

“Why do I owe you an explanation? I do as I’m instructed. I suggest you do the same.” John ended the call with a click. So like him—cold and void of empathy. I sometimes forgot how little I meant to my owners. My handler was not any better. He harbored the same sentiments.

Regardless of John’s lack of solicitude, my perplexing questions continued to haunt me. Why would vampires hire an assassin to kill their own kind? More than a century of devouring humans, I suspected they’d grown into very powerful supernatural beings. How else could Hernando enter my dwelling without an invite? I expected his brother possessed the same ability. I wondered what other deadly parlor tricks the de Soto brothers had up their sneaky sleeves?

A bit on the cranky side, I pilfered through the cabinets and couldn’t find a coffee maker or coffee. With a drumming headache, I needed caffeine pronto. The diner suddenly came to mind as I began to salivate for their delicious brew. “What the hell!” I blew out. “I never made decent coffee anyway.”

I grabbed some cash from my stash and hid it in a hole in the wall behind a picture. I locked up and darted across the street to the much busier diner.

At six past eight, the bright sun glistened through the branches of the oaks, promising a warm early spring. Gardenia perfumed the gentle breeze as the birds chirped gaily, fluttering from tree to tree.

The town brimmed with life. Folks at the square gathered in small circles, chatting. People marched to the rhythm, coming and going from the diner. Ardor drifted in the street as traffic lined in a cortège. It was a total transformation from the emptiness of the deserted streets last night.

Entering the diner, I picked up on the busy thrum of chatter and hot grease and fried bacon that wafted in the air. When coffee struck my stomach, I instantly started craving the dark, steamy brew. I needed my caffeine fix like a baby needed milk. A little breakfast sounded good too. It’d help boost my energy for the difficult day ahead. Pancakes! My mood suddenly lightened.

I had a nagging suspicion that I’d be up to my elbows in work. I didn’t have to see the inside of the bar to know that it needed a lot of renovations to meet city ordinance. Lucky for me, the minor details were not my problem. John had a gift for getting the impossible done. He’d gotten his crooked hooks on a liquor license and permits to open the pub. Usually, an owner had to be inspected first before qualifying. John knew officials in high places. He was able to bypass all the red tape and applications required.

And to make sure we were able to complete the assignment in a well-organized and competent manner, he left me with sufficient funding. That was as long as I stayed within a reasonable budget. Like I said, I had my work cut out for me. If the interior looked anything like the exterior, John better start digging in his deep pockets.

I eased down in the same booth that I’d sat in last night. A soft moan slipped through my lips as my eyes gravitated across the street. I began thinking about the decor. Why not style it to my taste? I might as well make the place mine or at least until John reassigned me to another location. It needed a lot. Starting with the exterior: a coat of fresh paint, replacing rotten boards, cementing the entrance steps and getting a new sign. A bright neon sign for folks to see as they entered town. Something eye-catching. “What should I name the bar? Hmmm.” I tapped my finger against my lips. “Phoenix’s Pub!” Quite appropriate, I smiled to myself.

I faced a huge task ahead. Transforming the bar into an exciting attraction was a huge challenge. I’d have to bring out all the stops to get customers willing to tempt the night. If I succeeded, the vampires would come. I had that little trick imprinted into my cerebrum. If there was anything I knew, it was fangers.

Nothing hindered a vampire’s thirst. And it was almost impossible to kill one. I had a few handy toys and skills that served me well. With the right wooden stake and a strong jab straight through their dead heart, I was quite efficient. Quick reflexes were a must-have. Faster than the blink of an eye. In a fight with a fanger, there was no room for error. Otherwise, you’d be pushin’ up daisies or, even worse, end up as a vampire. I shivered over the notion. If that ever happened to me, I’d stake myself.

I glanced up and saw the waitress approaching. A different girl this morning. “Welcome to Witch Haven Diner,” she mumbled without looking up from her notepad. Her tag read, Trudie. Short, thick-waisted, and black hair. “Would you like some coffee while you look over the menu?” The waitress asked as she glanced up from her pad.

“Morning,” I smiled back, “I’ll have pancakes and sausage with maple syrup. Loads of cream for my coffee, too.”

“Sure thing, hun,” she paused, “You’re new here. You passin’ through or stayin’?”

“Thinking about hanging my hat here for a spell. I’m the new owner of the bar across the street.”

“Really?” her brow shot up. “I thought the city was tearin’ down that old eyesore.”

“Nope. I plan to open in a couple of weeks.”

“Sugar, it’s gonna take a miracle to get that shack running. Except...” she stopped in midsentence. Now she had my curiosity.

“Except what?”

She blew a strand of hair from her face, dropping her free hand on her hip. “I ain’t got long to talk, but you’re gonna have a hard time findin’ customers.”

My brows pinched as I leaned on my propped elbows. “Why is that?”

“Most of the town stay locked behind doors come nightfall. Too many folks gone missin’. Talk floatin’ ‘round her’ say it’s animal attacks, but no one is sayin’ f’sure.”

“You don’t say? The diner is opened late. Has any staff gone missing?”

She scoffed. “Honey, we have to hire a new waitress at least once a week. The poor girls just come up missing.”

“How many?” I asked sharply. It sounded like this problem had been going on for a long duration. Looked like I might be hanging my hat a while longer than I’d expected.

“Can’t say f’sure, but I heard there’s been a few bodies found down in the bayou. Deep in the swamp where most don’t dare go.”

“The swamp? Sure it’s not a hungry alligator?”

She cackled softly. “This is Louisiana, babee. A little old gator, don’t worry us none. It’s other things that frighten us, folks. Like dark voodoo and black magic. We down her’ don’t dare play with them things.”

“Surely the authorities are handling the problem.”

“Seems nobody can catch the rascal.” Her face soured as she stuffed her notepad in her apron pocket. “I’ll get your order right out. I hear you like our pancakes,” she flashed a mischievous smile. “Coffee’s comin’ too.” With that said, she spun on her white tennis shoes and headed off. I didn’t push further. She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.

No question, there was an eerie stir in the wind. I didn’t run across too many towns that shut down by dusk unless there was a state of emergency. John didn’t mention anything about a curfew order.

A question kept nagging at my brain … just how many folks knew that the de Sotos brothers were centuries-old vampires? Two very thunderous uncanny creatures, who could easily crush this town in a blink. But they lived among the mundane peacefully. John said they looked after the town. Posed no threat. The brothers must care about this whistleblower, but why?

Skepticism crept into the crevice of my thoughts as I couldn’t stop speculating. What was their true motive for hiring an assassin to do their dirty work? Could this be a matter of rivalry? Wishing to be rid of other fangers invading their territory but not wanting the blood of their own kind on their hands? Did they wish to protect the residence, or were they just territorial?

The de Soto brothers were the first vampires I’d ever come across that took up residence. Most fangers were nomads, traveling like predator animals, always looking for their next kill. I laughed to myself. I’d never heard of civilized vampires—tamed fangers. The notion sounded preposterous. Even still. Why live here? Wouldn’t they have more supply in a city like New Orleans or anywhere else in the world than this insignificant hole-in-the-ground? What if the de Soto brothers were hiding. The notion of a fanger living in fear aroused my interest.

Chapter4

Meet the Sheriff

The sheriff’s office was located inside the courthouse at the town square, the heart of the town. It was the tallest building, with an impressive clock tower that hovered over the square.

I thought I should get acquainted with the law officials. Liquor establishments didn’t always have the best relationships with the local authorities. More often than not, a bar in a small town spelled trouble with a capital D. Drunks getting in a fight, folks driving under the influence, a husband getting caught with another woman. All sorts of reasons why the law frowned on bars.

I intended to set the sheriff’s mind at ease or, at best, make friends with him. I didn’t want any hassle, and I certainly didn’t need my cover blown. John would have my neck if I ruined the assignment.

I mounted the three flights of stairs before I came to a halt. I supposed in this little Podunk town, they hadn’t heard of elevators. I noticed the ink on the door that read,

Lafayette Parish Sheriff’s Office

Sheriff Justin Winters

I stopped at the front desk and was greeted by a heavyset man. He was as tall as he was wide and didn’t have a lick of hair on his head. Judging by his badge, he was the sheriff’s little helper. It read Deputy Lester Duet.

“What can I do fer you, miss?”

“Good morning. I’m the new bar owner. If the sheriff is available, I’d like to speak with him.”

“Do you have an appointment?” His voice came across gruffly.

“No. Sorry, I don’t, but I think he’ll be interested in speaking with me,” I smiled sweetly. A pretty smile could melt a man’s brain. Forget his good sense and lose his heart. I doubted the sheriff would pass up a chance to meet me. I attracted human men as much as I attracted vampires—part of my genetic blueprint. Hormones were as mad as a March hare but very effective.

“What’s your name?”

“Phoenix Brown.” I purred, batting my eyelashes.

“Just one moment.” He dialed his phone and spoke low. I was pretty confident he didn’t want me to hear their conversation. It wouldn’t do him any good. I could hear a cat’s meow ten miles away. One of my many supersoldier gifts. I listened as I thrummed my fingers over the counter …

“Hey, that new bar owner you’ve been talkin’ about is here. It’s a woman. She’s young. Real pretty little thing. Can’t weigh no more than a basket of eggs.”

“She’s good-lookin’, huh?” his voice heightened. “Damn, that’s a shame. She’s gonna be as useful as tits on a bull. The girl won’t last. No female can run a bar in this redneck town. These folks around her’ will eat her alive,” he chuckled. “Send her in. I gotta meet this gutsy gal.”

Eavesdropping on a private conversation wasn’t always the virtuous approach. But a girl’s gotta do whatta girl’s gotta do! And after the sheriff’s sexist comments, I flew off the handle, mad to the moon and back. I might be a ditzy broad, but I wasn’t a pussy.

Before the deputy hung the phone up, I’d marched into the sheriff’s office without waiting for an invitation. “I’m the pretty gal you asked to meet. Phoenix Brown. You may call me Miss Brown.” I leaned over his desk, offering my hand.

The sheriff’s pleasant appearance took me by surprise. He leaned back at ease in his chair, boots propped on the desk. I’d imagined him as a middle-aged man with a barrelled belly to match. This guy was lean with soft brown hair and deep hazel eyes that sparkled with amusement. Unlike his desk help, this guy was a looker. I bet he was a charmer too. “Miss Brown, it’s a pleasure meetin’ you.” He eyed me like I was in a line-up. “I am surprised to see a woman take over Mike’s Bar and Grill.”

Steam blew through my nose. “Oh? And how successful was Mike? Didn’t his bar go out of business?”

He flashed a lopsided grin. “Touché, Miss Brown.”

“Sheriff, I assure you the bar is in capable hands. Even if I am a female.”