Chapter Eighteen

I supposed any other owner of a massive hotel chain would live in the penthouse, but Cal Reaves lived in the basement—for obvious reasons. I was a little nervous to be going to his private residences. After all, the vamp wouldn't just…kill me down here, would he?

To be safe, I fired off a text to Kit telling her where I was. But, of course, there wasn't much of a signal, so it stalled out.

"Can I get you a drink?" Cal asked. To my disgusted face, he added, "I have the full gamut of options for my non-vampire guests. Whatever your heart desires, I can provide."

As we walked into the expansive (and dark) living room, a butler appeared. Based on his pallor, he was also a vampire—or maybe he lacked any coloring because he worked underground.

"A water, then, for my guest," Cal said to the man.

He sprang into action as if electrocuted and walked to a large bar area on the other side of the room.

I took in the rest of the space: expensive-looking modern art on the walls, a sculpture of a naked woman in the corner, white leather couches in the center of the room, complete with a fire pit that surely never got turned on in the Alabama heat. Cal led me to the couches, and as soon as I sat, his butler returned with a glass and bottle of sparkling water imported from Europe on a black platter and bowed slightly as he offered them to me. When I took them, he looked back at me with dead, soulless eyes.

"T-thank you," I said, taken aback.

"This is my familiar, Dietrich," Cal said, waving to the man as he returned to the bar once more. "Are you educated on vampire familiars?"

"Not in the least."

"A familiar is a human bonded to a vampire master for the rest of their mortal life," he said.

"Willingly?" I asked, glancing at the soulless-eyed man behind the bar.

"Of course," Cal said, slathering on that southern drawl enough that I knew he was bending the truth. "Dietrich was a poor, orphaned boy when I came across him in Germany. The war had taken his parents, and he was on the verge of starvation. I practically saved him."

I frowned. "Which war?"

"The great one." He paused. "I believe you call it World War One these days." He chuckled. "There've been so many human wars in my lifetime, I've lost count."

"So you found this guy in what? 1920?" He was old, for sure, but he looked about sixty, not over a hundred.

"In exchange for their service, familiars get extended life," Cal said, as if reading my mind. "Not immortal, like me, but an extra thirty years or so. Not to mention the luxury of living as a vampire does, with all the trappings of wealth one could ask for."

And being their mindless slave. Didn't sound like the kind of life I wanted.

"Alas, Dietrich will probably be the last familiar I take," Cal continued, as the man brought him a glass of dark red liquid that could only be blood. "The practice has lost favor in the past twenty years or so. A familiar used to be essential to a vampire living and thriving in the modern world. They could go out in the day and fetch what we needed, that sort of thing. But now, of course, with the witchy potions y'all brew," he gestured to the makeup covering his face, "it's less necessary."

Dietrich showed no sign of hearing his master.

"So why not release him?" I asked.

"Dietrich's been mine for so long that he's of little use elsewhere," Cal said, beaming at his familiar as if he were a favorite dog. "An unfortunate side effect of the vampire-familiar bond is that the human's brain gets a little…muddled. I doubt Dietrich could even care for himself without my suggestions to do so." He sighed. "But, in time, he will pass away like the rest of my familiars have, and when he does, I won't take another."

This whole conversation was giving me the creeps, so I adjusted myself on the couch and took a hesitant sip of the very expensive water. "So what did you want to talk about?"

He smiled, revealing his fangs. "Surely, you know. The Cove! I wanted to ask if you'd changed your mind about selling it to me. Especially based on recent events."

"Such as?"

"Duke Pinfish has all but declared war on the place. I'm sure that's not helping you pay that large mortgage your grandmother took out." He tilted his head. "Am I wrong?"

"You aren't wrong, but I'm curious where you're getting all this information from," I said.

"Witches talk. I employ witches at my hotels. I hear things." He shrugged. "It's nothing nefarious. But I confess, I've had my eye on the Cove for a long time. Your grandmother would tell you I'd been trying to get her to sell to me for at least twenty years."

"She never mentioned it," I said.

"From what I understand, you two weren't really talking."

"You do hear things." I took another sip so I wouldn't say something rude. After all, I was underground, and I didn't see any staircase to get back to the sun. Did vampire hotels have to meet building codes?

"I'm sorry. That wasn't very nice," he said. "It's probably a sore subject."

"You know, you're not the only one who hears things," I said. "I heard you were trying to buy property from Maria. Apparently, you were in a bidding war with Big Dog."

He snorted. "The werewolves think they can keep up with me. But if she'd entertained their offer, I'd simply have doubled mine."

"Why are you so keen on a piece of swampland?" I asked.

He beamed. "Well, because I have a vision."

As if summoned by telepathy, (which he probably was), Dietrich appeared next to Cal with a large binder that he gently placed in front of me, titled Eldred Beach Resort and Golf Course Vision. Cal crossed his legs, took a sip of blood, and nodded at the binder for me to open it.

I opened the first page and was greeted with a mockup of a golf course with homes strategically clustered around the place. At first, it looked like somewhere else, but I quickly recognized the curve of the coastline and the inlets. This was his vision for Eldred's Hollow—a ritzy, glamorous, sprawling, unrecognizable…thing.

"Are you…serious?" I looked up at him.

"Very." He uncrossed his legs and leaned toward me. "Over in Florida, they've taken what was a patch of barren, sand-spur-covered land and turned it into a multi-million-dollar resort and conference center. No such thing exists for the supernatural crowd. Imagine if we could host a witch's convention or a werewolf commune at a state-of-the-art center instead of…well, wherever they do it now."

"I don't think there are witch's conventions," I said with a thin smile. My gaze raked across the coastline until I found where the Cove was—and was relieved to find it still there.

"I meant what I said. I would keep the Cove, perhaps with a few minor upgrades to appeal to the higher-end clientele I plan to attract."

I put my hand on the cluster of homes that was where The Shack and my parents' log cabin currently stood, tamping down something angry by reminding myself that the land was still mine.

"And my property? You'd turn it into, what? A subdivision?"

"Oh, don't be crass." He chuckled. "It would be a combination of rental properties and homes. Some people would own them outright and live there. Others would use them as vacation properties. From what I gather over in Destin, it's quite a mix of people."

Mix of people. Somehow I doubted anyone currently living in Eldred's Hollow would've been able to afford to live in their own town anymore.

"I know it seems drastic, but this is the future," he said, sounding unnaturally soft and sincere. "Progress can't be stopped, as much as others try. I've been on this earth a long time, and the ones who end up the best for it are the ones who stand aside and make their claim early." He smiled at me. "Everyone who's sold to me so far has been very well compensated. And I'm willing to go higher on the figure I quoted you."

I looked at the map again, seeing that some plots had been colored green. There were still more than a few holdouts, but there was more green than I liked. Farming, even magical farming, was hard work. I could see why they'd want to take the money and run.

Something on the east caught my eye. A bridge connecting Eldred's Hollow to Eldred's Beach.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Ah, well, that's one of the biggest pipe dreams," he said. "It's such a bear to get from the Hollow to the Beach, isn't it? Quite inefficient."

I pursed my lips. "Take the ferry."

"A ferry." He waved me off. "Pfft. Slow and obsolete. Can't tell you the number of times that boat's broken down over the past year. Who wants to travel on some predetermined schedule, at the mercy of the whims of the mechanics?"

"Everyone who's ever taken public transport." I did it all the time in Atlanta. "You want to build a bridge?"

"Obviously, it would take some effort. Having to get approval from the mermaids is the first hurdle." He tilted his head and pointed to the spot where the bridge met Eldred's Hollow. "That's what I was trying to buy from Maria. That and the strip of underwater land that would connect the beaches."

I bit my lip. Big Dog was right to be suspicious.

"As I told you, I hear things from the witches and warlocks who work for me," he said. "And they're dying for a faster route—especially one that wouldn't require a ferry ticket every day. Goodness knows that sort of cost can add up. With this bridge, they'd be able to zip across in twenty minutes. Not to mention all the tourists from the Beach can get to all the places in the Hollow. Think of your dear friend's Enchanted Cat Cafe, suddenly busier than they know what to do with!"

"Assuming all those witches and warlocks still live in the Hollow," I said, pointing to the clusters of homes. "Because your plan would kick them out."

He flashed me another fanged smile. "Nobody's kicking anyone out, as I said. I'm a very fair man. I want to ensure that everyone who does business with me is well compensated. I wouldn't dream of moving forward with anything until I had the full buy-in of the local community."

Or, he'd have bought up so much land that the holdouts would have no choice but to sell or be lost in the mix.

"So, now you've seen my vision." Cal sat back, crossing his legs with a fanged smile. "Are you ready to sell to me?"

"Did Maria know about this vision?" I asked. "All of it? Or that you wanted her land?"

"She did." He nodded. "We were very close to an agreement before her untimely death. It has certainly set things back for me, but not irretrievably so. As soon as a new clan leader has been chosen by Duke Pinfish, I plan on presenting them the same offer."

"Do you think they'll take it?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I can't see why they wouldn't. Maria had plenty of opinions on safeguards for her people, and I gladly made sure each and every one was accounted for." He tilted his head. "She was quite thorough. A true leader. She will certainly be missed."

"Duke Pinfish seems to have taken over for the moment," I said. "At least, he's the one who keeps coming up to the Cove to complain about things."

He chuckled. "He's a different sort, that's for sure. I believe he's less used to interacting with witches and other magical creatures. In the Gulf of Mexico, his domain is far removed from most everything." He cracked a smile. "I confess that I've got a bit of an advantage with him in that I'm not a witch. So far, I've managed to stay far enough away from the current quagmire between your kind and his that we're still on good terms."

"Have you met with him?" I asked.

"Here and there," he said, a little evasively.

"And is he going to sell the swampland to you?" I asked.

"Ah." He chuckled. "I can't comment on pending deals. But rest assured." He flashed me another smile. "I always get what I want. The benefit of immortality."

I held my breath, not sure I wanted to ask the question but unable to help myself. "And does Pinfish know you're coating your recreation boats with the same mermaid-stunning potion that killed Maria?"

He smiled. "I don't believe there's a single boat in the sound or Gulf that doesn't have that potion smeared on its hull."

"I can think of a few," I said. "I don't think the ferry—"

He quirked a brow.

"Stuart doesn't use it," I said emphatically.

"You should ask him on your way back." He smiled and rose, and I got the sense he wanted to end this conversation before it continued down that road. "I doubt Duke Pinfish will begrudge me for protecting my investments. Boats are expensive, you know. Can't have them ending up at the bottom of the sound."

"I suppose not." Pinfish would probably say there shouldn't be any boats in his sound, but I didn't want to voice that.

"You will give some more thought to my offer, yes?"

"I will, I promise." I paused, realizing I had a ready-made excuse to put him off a bit longer. "You know, I can't do anything until I get her estate squared away, which requires a few steps before I can even start that process. The bank won't even let me see her accounts right now."

"I understand how tricky the banks can be, believe me." Dietrich was at the door, his soulless eyes staring blankly ahead. "When you are able to make a decision, I hope you'll consider my offer."

"I certainly will."

~~

Dietrich helped me get back to surface level via a well-hidden elevator, and once I stepped off, it snapped closed, and he was gone. I stood in the center of the posh hotel, brightly lit by the floor-to-ceiling windows that gave an almost panoramic view of the Gulf of Mexico. All around me, tourists of all supernatural stripes were coming and going, wearing either bathing suits and towels or brightly colored vacation clothes. There was a faint smell of chlorine in the air, and the temperature felt a little too clammy for the spring day outside. It certainly seemed a different world from Eldred's Hollow.

I walked back to the ferry, thinking about what the Hollow might look like under Cal's vision. The families who'd been there for generations wouldn't be there anymore, and all the regulars who hopped off the ferry and came to the Cove wouldn't be passing through either. Everyone would disperse, and the rural, quiet town of witches and magical creatures would turn into something I didn't recognize.

But was that a bad thing?

I waited an hour for the ferry to take me back to Eldred's Cove, as I'd missed it. It gave me a lot of time to think more about Cal's vision—and what he’d told me about the potion. I didn't believe for a second that every boat in the sound had it. My grandmother had brokered that truce with Maria’s predecessors and been adamant about keeping her end of the bargain. But she only controlled the boats permanently docked in her marina, and Fates knew we didn't have time to check every boat that docked for the day during the busy season.

The better question was how had the vamps gotten away with it for so long?

"Short trip today, eh, Jo?" Stuart asked as I boarded the ferry,

"You said it." I paused, looking at him. "Stuart… Do you use mermaid-stunning potion on the hull of your boat?"

He frowned, taking a step back. "Why do you ask?"

"Something Cal Reaves said to me," I replied. "That there wasn't a boat in the harbor that didn't have it. Is that true?"

"Don't be getting me in trouble with anyone, Jo," he said, nervous laughter bubbling from his throat. "It's…not uncommon. The mermaids can get feisty, especially any that come in from the Gulf. Better to be prepared, you know?" He paused. "Why are you interested?"

I sighed. "Just trying to figure out what else I don't know about this place."

"You were so young when you left," Stuart said. "I'm sure there are a lot of things you thought you knew as a kid."

I thought about Stuart's business in the face of a new bridge connecting the beach and the Hollow. Who'd want to wait for a ferry if they could drive (or broomstick) across? Did he have any idea what was coming his way?

"What is it?" he asked, tilting his head at me.

"Nothing," I replied with a fake smile and kept walking.