Chapter Nine

We were staring at a small house in Henderson, Nevada. It was the most basic house on the block, which was actually called Basic Street. A chain-link fence bordered a dirt yard, which was barren, except for one lonely palm tree.

“No cameras,” Vaughn whispered. We’d come alone. We thought the whole pack would attract too much attention and potentially overwhelm his dad. Vaughn and I were the two people his dad knew the best. He’d trust us, if he was in any shape to trust anyone.

Even though it looked like the least likely place for Vanessa, who loved luxury, to stay, I was almost certain that Mr. Sheridan was inside. All the curtains were pulled tight, and the house had that locked-up empty feeling, but something told me that’s where my mother had Mr. Sheridan stashed.

“Maybe she’s still asleep?” I asked. I’d used my parasol, a huge Thermos of tonic, and an outfit that didn’t show an inch of skin to make it to Henderson while the sun was still shining.

I felt queasy but hadn’t burst into flames, so I was calling it a win.

As soon as the sky turned from red to orange to purple, I got out of the van and headed to the front door.

I didn’t smell vampire, but I did sense that someone was inside the house. I could hear a tapping noise. It didn’t sound like footsteps, not exactly, but I thought it was being made by a human.

The door was locked. “Are you sure about this?” Vaughn asked. “I don’t want to go to jail for busting down a stranger’s door.”

“Wait,” I said. “Let’s go around back. Maybe we can see into one of the windows.”

There was that sound again.

Then I heard Vanessa’s voice, sharp and clear. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier? I’m late.”

Mr. Sheridan murmured something too low to hear. The strange noise had stopped.

“At least we know we’re in the right place,” Vaughn said.

Vanessa continued to rant for so long that my leg was starting to go numb.

Mr. Sheridan said, “But I want to go with you.”

Vanessa replied, “Stay where you are. My ride’s here. I’ll be back soon.” Her footsteps clattered on what sounded like a tile floor. My mother was wearing heels and a red dress with expensive gold jewelry. I winced at the thought of the damage to Mr. Sheridan’s credit card balance because I had no doubt Vanessa had racked up some hefty charges.

Vaughn and I threw ourselves down on the ground, out of her line of sight. It wasn’t likely she’d walk into the backyard if she was leaving, but we stayed still. I was pressed up against him, which wasn’t a bad way to wait it out. We sat, barely daring to breathe. My mother the vampire had excellent hearing.

A door slammed, and then a car started up somewhere down the block.

There wasn’t any movement from inside the house for a moment, but then the strange sound began again.

Vaughn put an arm around me and pulled me closer, until his mouth was at my ear. “I think she’s gone.”

My boyfriend’s werewolf hearing might be even better than my vampire one. We stayed that way, facing each other, bodies wedged together. I started to lean in for a kiss when Vaughn said, “Let’s get my dad and get out of here.”

Yes, a hot make-out sesh in the middle of a rescue wasn’t practical. Then he grinned at me. “Rain check?”

And that’s why I loved him.

He jumped up and then helped me to my feet. My legs felt woozy, and I didn’t know if it was from his smile or from being on the ground for so long.

Vanessa had left the back door unlocked. Either it was a trap or she was sure that Mr. Sheridan would stay put. Or both.

We went through the back door into the kitchen. The house was small, and from there, I saw Mr. Sheridan in the living room. His clothes were wrinkled and dirty, like he hadn’t washed or changed them since he arrived in town.

My sense of smell told me that he hadn’t washed himself, either. I tried not to gag. He smelled like stale sweat and fear.

He was rocking back and forth in a spindly-looking rocking chair, which was the only furniture in the room. It explained the noise we’d heard. There was junk food and cans of Red Bull scattered around. He’d been gone a week, and from the way Mr. Sheridan looked and smelled, he hadn’t had a shower since then.

I should feel relieved that we’d found him, but my stomach wouldn’t settle, and I jumped every time the chair thudded.

“Dad, it’s me,” Vaughn said, but his father didn’t respond.

“Give him a few minutes,” I suggested.

“We don’t have a few minutes,” Vaughn snapped. He saw my expression and softened his tone. “Sorry, but Vanessa could come back at any moment. We need to get him out of here.”

But Mr. Sheridan wouldn’t leave. Vaughn tried coaxing, pleading, and plain old bribing, but his dad wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll go get the van,” I said. We’d parked it a few blocks away, since it wasn’t exactly unnoticeable.

I pulled into a parking spot a couple houses down and went back to the house. Vaughn’s dad was still refusing to leave, so Vaughn picked him up, rocking chair and all, and carried him to the van. Mr. Sheridan fought the entire way.

“Get the back door, please,” Vaughn said. His muscles strained under the weight. His father was nearly as big as Vaughn, but for a second, I thought Mr. Sheridan recognized him and stopped struggling.

We hustled Adam Sheridan to the van before he could protest. I opened the van’s rear door, and Vaughn put his dad inside and climbed in next to him. I shut the doors and then got in the driver’s side.

My stomach turned at the thought of what Vanessa had been feeding him. Mr. Sheridan was a foodie. He owned a catering company, and he was definitely used to eating more balanced meals.

I fumbled in the glove box, where I knew Beckett kept a stash of snacks, and found a protein bar. I handed it to Vaughn. “Try to get him to eat this.”

Vaughn tried, but his dad ignored him, not even recognizing his own son.

I drove while Vaughn sat with his dad, who continued to rock.

“He might be dehydrated,” I said. “Try to get some water in him.”

We’d brought water as well as a first aid kit. I was relieved that there didn’t seem to be a need for the kit, at least not that we could see.

At least he wasn’t shouting for my mother. She’d done this to him. Because of me.

His dad was hollow-eyed and thinner than he’d been when I’d last seen him, but he was alive. I had to remember that.

His clothes were dirty and he smelled bad, but he was safe. And I was pretty sure I knew a spell that would break Vanessa’s hold on him. I’d try it as soon as he was clean and dry and had some food in him.

When we got back to the hotel, we dropped Mr. Sheridan into the shower, rocking chair and all, then gave him some privacy. While Vaughn went out to buy clothes and other necessities for his dad, I called the concierge downstairs. Some of the items I needed for the spell would be easy to get, but I needed a specific flower. The woman on the other end assured me she’d have everything delivered to the suite. Five minutes later, the requested items arrived.

Then Vaughn burst into our hotel room.

He had a couple of bags in his hands. “Toothbrush and Dad’s favorite candy bar,” he said. He scanned the room. His brows drew together when he didn’t find his dad.

“Where is he?” Vaughn asked, panting.

“Still taking a shower,” I said. “I found him some of your clothes to change into but let him take his time. He was a little…ripe.”

“Good idea. I’ll order something for him to eat,” Vaughn said. “Are you hungry?”

I couldn’t answer. My stomach knotted into painful twists. “Tonic,” I finally managed to say.

Vaughn rushed to the minibar and took out a Thermos. “You’re almost out,” he said. “We need to ask Rose to brew up more.”

I sipped the witch’s brew and started to feel a little bit better. “Your dad’s been in the shower a long time.”

Vaughn’s mouth turned down. “I’ll go check on him,” he said and hurried to the bathroom. He came back a few minutes later with Mr. Sheridan.

Vaughn’s dad looked about a thousand times better than he had when we’d rescued him. Besides the strange rocking, he didn’t seem in too bad of shape. The most important thing was Vaughn hadn’t found any fang marks on him.

“Dad, you have to eat something,” Vaughn said.

“Maybe soup and a slice of bread would tempt him to eat,” I suggested.

Vaughn ordered room service while I gathered up a few items that I’d need for the spell I was attempting. I took everything to the sink because this spell was messy. A small mirror, a large container of salt, a beeswax candle, a lighter, and the flowers I’d requested from the concierge service. Butterfly weed, a sprig of white freesia, and a single black rose.

I placed the flowers on the mirror and then dumped the entire box of salt over them. “Release him, release him, release him,” I chanted and then set everything on fire, watching it carefully. When the pile was finally ash, I waited for it to cool and then put the ash in a small glass container.

“Mr. Sheridan, where did you get that ring?” I asked carefully.

He stared down at it. “I-I don’t know. I remember coming to Vegas with my girlfriend. What happened?”

“You broke up,” Vaughn said gently. “It turned out she wanted to sell the catering company.”

Adam frowned. “I would never sell it. It belongs to our family.”

“I know,” Vaughn soothed. “You broke up with your girlfriend, but I think you feel better now, don’t you?”

“I feel like my old self,” Adam replied. “She was a nice woman, but not for me.”

“Nice” was stretching it, but the important thing was that the spell had worked.

Rose came by with an herbal elixir to help Vaughn’s dad fall asleep.

Mr. Sheridan started to snore almost immediately.

We’d contacted everyone in the group to call off the search.

We’d saved him. Even though he was tight-lipped and shaking, he was safe.

For now, at least. The unbidden thought refused to leave.

Vaughn’s dad would never truly be safe—not while my mother continued to exist.

We settled Mr. Sheridan into the third bedroom. I hated to be grateful to my biological father, but I was happy he’d put us up in such luxurious accommodations. We could check on Vaughn’s dad without ever leaving our suite, and we’d know the second anyone tried to come for him.

“We can take my dad home tomorrow,” Vaughn said.

I avoided looking at him. None of my friends and family were safe. No one I loved was safe. Not while she still existed.

“I can’t go home yet.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“I’m staying in Vegas until I find my mother.”

“Well, we’re not leaving without you,” Vaughn said stubbornly.

“I can’t let Vanessa continue to wreak havoc everywhere she goes,” I said. “You and I both know she’ll never stop.”

“We’re staying too, then,” Vaughn said.

“But your dad needs to recover,” I argued.

“He can do it here,” Vaughn said. “In fact, who better to help him than the head of the Paranormal Activities Committee? It can’t be the first time a human has gotten tangled up with a supe.”

Mr. Sheridan might be safer at Mason Alicante’s favorite hotel than he would be at home.

Vanessa would never give up, not until she found a way to sink her fangs into my throat and end me once and for all. And she would consider it a bonus if she could make me suffer first.

Which meant I was finally going to have to do something about Vanessa. Permanently.