Chapter Thirteen

Saturday morning, Connor texted me and told me I could talk to the girl who’d been attacked. He sent me an address and told me he’d meet me there in twenty. I barely had time to brush my teeth and grab my parasol and drumstick before I had to leave.

We met at a coffee shop with the short and sweet name Beans. I was still in my faded T-shirt, pajama bottoms, and mismatched flipflops, with my hair piled in a bun on the top of my head, which wasn’t exactly a regal image.

Connor sat at a table in the back with a gorgeous Latinx woman who looked like she was college-aged or maybe a little older.

I slid into a seat next to Connor. They’d been in a tense conversation when I approached, but they stopped talking when I arrived.

I held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Tansy.”

She stared at me. “She’s the queen of the vampires?”

I smiled at her. “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

“How is it that you can walk in the sun?” she asked, then realized she hadn’t told me her name. “I’m Amy.”

“Is it okay if I ask you a few questions?”

Connor stood and then asked both of us if we wanted anything to drink before wandering over to order. I noticed he kept a close eye on us, though.

“I’m not sure I can help you,” she said. “I don’t remember much about the attack.”

“Do you remember going to The Last Stop?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said. “This guy was supposed to be there, but he never showed.”

“Cute guy?”

“Really cute,” she confirmed. “Anyway, I decided screw him, you know.”

I nodded.

“My friends and I were dancing, but I was getting hot and sweaty, so I stepped outside to cool down. That’s all I remember.”

“Nothing else?”

She hesitated. “I did smell something odd,” she said.

“Odd how?”

“It was this really sweet floral scent,” she said. “Like a perfume my grandma would wear, but more intense.”

Connor returned with our drinks, but I made the excuse that I needed to get home before the sun got any higher in the sky.

“If you think of anything else, Amy, here’s my number,” I said.

A heavy scent would hide that distinct vampire smell, but there’d been a strange magical scent at the murder scene. Jared may have interrupted the killer. Or it was possible he was the killer.

I spent the rest of the day looking up spells that involved scent but reached a dead-end. It was time to get ready, anyway. It was date night with Vaughn. I appreciated that he was trying to get us back to normal, or whatever the closest thing looked like for two supernatural beings who were supposed to be enemies.

Except that Vaughn was late. I used the time to reexamine my outfit. I’d dressed up my favorite jeans with a green camisole top and dangly earrings. My charm necklace went with everything, and I rarely took it off, so my look was complete. By the time I reapplied my lip gloss, he still hadn’t shown.

I peeked out the window and scanned the street. No sign of his car, but something else caught my attention. I sensed there was a vampire out there, watching me. Waiting.

“Granny Mariotti,” I hollered. “I smell vampire.”

I didn’t wait for her but snatched up my drumstick and rushed outside. I scanned the street, trying to spot anything out of place, but it was empty except for our neighbor, who was giving me a weird look as she watered her lawn.

The feeling was gone.

I went back into the house. “False alarm, I guess,” I said. “I need to stock up on Diet Dr Pepper.” It didn’t always kill them, but soda would slow a vampire down. That was something that wasn’t in any of the paranormal books, probably because Dr Pepper hadn’t existed in Bram Stoker’s day.

I didn’t want my vampire subjects to get comfortable enough to just drop by any time, and now that I thought of it, how had Jared found out where I lived? I made a note to ask Thorn about added security and maybe using some of the kingdom’s money to set up an office for me, somewhere away from my home. I didn’t want a hungry vampire, or anyone else, wandering into my house and freaking out my grandmother.

“What’s got you so on edge, Tansy?” Granny asked.

“Just jumpy, I guess,” I said. “I feel like someone’s watching me, but whenever I look up, no one’s there.”

“I’ll add some protective spells at the end of the street,” Granny replied.

“Can’t hurt,” I agreed.

I was slipping my shoes on when I heard Vaughn at the door, his knock distinctive.

“I like that boy,” Granny Mariotti said. “He has enough manners to come to the door.”

“I like him, too,” I said. “But he is late.”

I opened the door. “He likes you, too,” Vaughn said, “and sorry I’m late.” How had he heard us? “Windows are open,” he said to my unspoken question.

He wore a navy button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans. He’d made an effort with his outfit, which made me glad I’d done the same.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” I said.

“But I’m glad I did,” he replied. I hadn’t meant to confess my feelings for him in front of Granny.

I took a closer look at him and knew something was wrong. His lips were upturned, but his gray eyes were stormy. I raised an eyebrow, and Vaughn shook his head. Later, he mouthed.

“We should get going,” I said. The sooner the better.

Granny Mariotti smiled at us both and then gave me a little shove. “Have fun.”

Vaughn was quiet in the car, one of his hands rapping nervously on the steering wheel. “So there’s been a change of plans. Our date night is now a group thing. At The Last Stop.”

He didn’t seem happy about it, but still, I snapped, “Why?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wanted to take you on a real date. Spend time together, just the two of us.”

“It’s okay.” I put my hand on his knee. “We can do a little snooping while we have some fun.”

“Connor said they’d meet us there.”

I tried to think of something to talk about so Vaughn would quit white-knuckling the steering wheel. The canyon road was a twisty two-lane highway favored by motor- and bicyclists, so I couldn’t tell if Vaughn’s tight grip was because of the road or because he was nervous about something else.

When we arrived, a line had formed at the door, with a few girls wearing white hats and cowboy boots paired with short skirts and skimpy tops and a lot of guys with big shiny belt buckles and bigger attitudes.

A small sign announced that the Thirsty Thieves were tonight’s band. We paid the cover charge, and the guy at the door stamped our hands with the eighteen-and-under stamp. Like I wanted to drink around Travis and his band.

Once inside, it was standing room only. We found Skyler and Connor over by the bar. He had one arm draped over her protectively, shielding her from the crowd. They seemed more at ease with each other. Skyler had a tentative smile, and Connor’s shoulders were relaxed.

“Where are the guys?” Vaughn asked him.

“On their way,” Connor replied.

“We need to pool resources,” I said. “Share information.”

An older couple and their kids got up from a table, and Skyler managed to grab their seats before anyone else spotted them. The table was tucked into a corner near the hall that led to the bathroom and what I assumed were offices.

It was quieter back here. As soon as we sat, I said, “Connor, tell us everything you know about the werewolf murders.”

“Why should I?”

Vaughn sighed. “Quit jerking her around and tell us.”

“I’m going to figure out who the killer is and stop them,” I replied. “With or without your help.”

He paused, then swallowed hard and said, “We think it might be a witch.”

“Which witch?” I glared at him.

“Not your granny. Did you know that in ancient times, witches used to hunt werewolves?”

I shook my head. “No. Why?”

“Nobody knows,” he said. “The kind of witches who practiced the dark arts aren’t around to ask anymore.”

“Do you have any evidence that it was a witch?” I asked. “Or any evidence at all?”

“No,” he said. “The killer hasn’t left many clues.”

“I’ll start researching werewolf-witch history,” I promised. “Maybe I can find something in one of Granny’s books.”

The guys went to the bar to order drinks and some food. The place was packed.

The jukebox was playing, mostly country songs I was unfamiliar with, although I was able to identify a Johnny Cash tune.

I noticed a girl dancing near the jukebox. She wore a short white skirt, a Western shirt decorated with red snaps, and red cowboy boots and hat. The hat hid her face and hair, but I felt like I knew her. She looked up. Natasha again.

Skyler and I didn’t talk much while we waited for the guys to get back with our drinks. I studied the crowd, wondering if the murderer was here tonight. I was going to find out who had been murdering werewolves, even if it turned out to be one of my own subjects. If the killer followed the pattern, there would be another murder attempt during the next full moon. The knowledge set my nerve endings jangling.

A guy hovered by our table. “Would you like to dance?”

“No thanks,” I told him. He was cute, but not my type because a) he wasn’t Vaughn and b) he was too old for me—by about twenty years.

He glared at me before stomping off. Why was I worrying about hurting his feelings? I had the right to say no without an explanation and without feeling unsafe. Still, I wished Vaughn would come back.

Twice, someone asked me if we were using the other chairs, but I managed to shoo them off.

Finally, Vaughn and Connor returned. Beckett and Lucas followed them.

“Where’s Xavier?” I asked.

“Studying as usual,” Lucas said. “Medical school is no joke, even for a genius.”

Vaughn raised his eyebrow. “Do I have competition?”

“Of course not,” I said. “You’re the only wolf for me.”

They set down our drinks and plates of appetizers. Werewolves and their appetites.

“Sorry it took so long,” Vaughn said. “The servers are in the weeds tonight.”

Beckett got a little too enthusiastic and started singing. It was another Dolly Parton song. “Islands in the stream,” he crooned, using big hand gestures. He knocked over someone’s beer.

“Hey, that was my beer.” The speaker was a big guy with a red Bite Back tee and a glare.

“Are you saying you want to fight?” Beckett beamed at the angry man.

“Beckett, that’s not what he said,” I protested. Beckett turned a dazzling smile in my direction.

“That’s what I heard.” He looked like a kid on Christmas Eve, only Santa was a guy in a trucker hat with a short fuse. “You said you wanted to fight, right?”

The stranger’s brows drew together, and he hesitated, like he was puzzling something out. “Yup.”

“Fight!” Beckett replied before he threw himself at the guy.

“He’s going to get hurt,” I said.

“Werewolves heal fast,” Connor said.

The bigger man grabbed Beckett by his long red hair and used it to slam his face into the bar.

When blood spurted from Beckett’s nose, the bartender’s fangs flashed. This cowboy bar was full of vampires, and I’d have to stake someone if they tried to drink from Vaughn’s friend. The sound of breaking glass mingled with the snarls and thuds.

“I’m going to tear out your heart, puppy,” the vampire who’d started it all said to Beckett.

“Stop!” I screamed. Everyone else froze, but the vampire moved closer. I grabbed his hand as it drew back. “I am your queen, and I command you to stop or suffer the consequences.”

It looked like we were in a weird wrestling match as he tried to bend back my arm.

His smirk faded when I flashed my fangs at him and said, “You don’t want to do that.”

“I don’t?” He didn’t sound certain, so I twisted his wrist.

“I am your queen,” I repeated. “And when I tell you to do something, you will do it.”

After a long moment, he nodded. “Yes, my queen.”

The band finally showed up and were mobbed by their fans. After about ten minutes, Travis went by us with a gorgeous older man with curly blond hair, probably headed for somewhere more private. The Thirsty Thieves must not have known I was here. Or they didn’t care.

They were probably headed for a tiny room with a couple of saggy sofas, stocked with goodies. Now that Travis was cut off from his father’s money, I wondered briefly how the band was living. I’d left them their tour bus, but not much else.

One by one, the guys in the band left with their chosen donor. Except for Boris, since he was a werewolf and wouldn’t need a blood donation.

Boris went past us. I thought he was probably on his way to the bathroom, but he didn’t come back. What was he up to?

There was a roar of applause when the band took the stage. The sound of loud, angry country music filled the air. A faint hint of vampire compulsion was threaded through the lyrics. The song was loud and the lyrics were vaguely insulting to women. All about girls, dark roads, and moonshine. Not my favorite combination.

Vaughn wasn’t paying attention to the stage. He stared down at his phone, frowning. “We need to go,” he said. “Dad had an emergency at the office.”

“Everything okay?” Skyler asked.

“The whole commercial kitchen flooded,” he said. “Dad needs my help.”

“I’m great with a mop,” I said.

“It’s okay,” Vaughn assured me. “He already called the plumber. I’ll take you home and then head over there.”

“The guys and I will go with you to help,” Connor said. “Skyler, I’ll walk you to your car.” So they hadn’t driven together. Interesting.

Skyler’s chin went up. “I’m staying here.”

He opened his mouth to protest, I’m sure, but I said, “Why don’t you guys go on ahead and I’ll ride home with Skyler?”

“It’s okay,” Skyler said to Vaughn. “I’ll fend off the guys and make sure your girlfriend doesn’t get hit on too much.”

“Like that’s gonna happen,” I scoffed, but Vaughn didn’t look convinced.

I gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “I’m perfectly capable of standing up for myself.”

“I know,” he said. “I just worry.” He tugged me closer and gave me a deep kiss. Vaughn had reason to worry. I’d almost died this summer, and he’d given me his blood to save me.

Neither guy looked like they were thrilled with the idea, so I added, “Striga vie, remember? And I brought my drumstick along, just in case.”

Connor and Vaughn stood to leave. Connor looked like he was going to try to kiss Skyler goodbye but settled for a touch to her shoulder. He whispered something that made her cheeks turn pink.

Vaughn bent down to kiss me again. “This is not how I wanted the night to end,” he said against my lips. “I’ll call you later.”

After he left, the band played a few more country songs that had similar lyrics. When they paused, the crowd started making requests.

“Play ‘Feeder’!” someone shouted.

“No, I wanna hear ‘Breeder’!” another voice shouted. We stayed at the back of the crowd, where I hoped the band wouldn’t spot us, and I watched them closely.

Travis opened his mouth and started to sing the lyrics about a bro-dude with a cowboy hat and a bad attitude that had raised my hackles before. I could detect the compulsion. When he’d been the lead singer of The Drainers, the melodies had been sad, haunting, but beautiful. This compulsion was all rage and testosterone. I noticed a few glassy-eyed stares from the guys in the audience.

Red-faced and sweating, the men crowded around the stage, and I fought the urge to snarl at them. They started to push each other, and as the song got louder and louder, bodies slammed against one another. By the time the song was halfway through, beer bottles were being thrown as well as fists.

A guy in a Stetson bumped into Skyler, and my fist went out before I could stop it, but I managed to force myself to relax and unclench my fingers.

I grabbed Skyler by the arm, and we made our way out of the rage pit. Our table at the back was still empty, so we sat there to catch our breath.

Someone had been teaching Travis to control his vampire talent, but who?

A broken beer bottle missed his head by a few inches, and the song abruptly cut off. The band exited the stage and didn’t return. I wasn’t sure if it was because he knew I wanted to talk to him or because the jagged beer bottle made him skittish. A few inches lower and Travis would have gone poof.

Skyler and I stared at each other.

“That was weird, right?” We discussed theories about why Travis was back but couldn’t decide if it was ego or revenge that motivated his reappearance into our lives.

“Don’t worry,” I assured my best friend. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Right back at you,” she said. It was late when we made it out of the club. Most of the crowd had dispersed, and I was tired.

Travis was using his abilities to drum up anger in the crowd, but what was his motive?

“I wish I knew how to prove he was compelling through song again,” I said. “Right now, it’s his word against mine.”

“Maybe one of his victims will talk,” she said. She hesitated and then finished, “It’s aimed at enraging the audience. He’s still compelling them.”

“I think so, too,” I said. “I didn’t catch it at first because it’s so different from how he sang this summer.”

We walked silently the rest of the way to her car, but I stayed alert. It was scary sometimes to be a girl walking after dark on a deserted street. Even though I had powers, magic couldn’t protect me from everything. Skyler seemed equally tense, scanning the shadows every few seconds.

I smelled vampire even before I heard their footsteps. Vampires, at least the ones I’d met so far, had a distinct smell of decay they couldn’t conceal. It was like rotting apples mixed with milk that had turned chunky. Two of them, male, both wearing cologne, either to disguise the stench or because nobody had ever taught them that less was more.

Skyler and I were almost to our car when they approached us from behind. I whirled, drumstick concealed in my long sleeves, to find two good ol’ boy vampires leering at us. They had blood-red trucker hats with the words I SUCK AND BITE on them.

So did their attitudes about women, which dripped with skeevy. Or maybe that was just the profuse amounts of sweat coming from their pores.

Their button-down western-style shirts were tucked into jeans that looked like they belonged in a museum.

“Hello, sweet thing,” the taller guy said to me. What made guys act like that? Like they owned a girl, body and soul, even when they didn’t even know her name?

“Does that ever work?” I replied.

“What do we have here?” Tall Guy said. “Something sassy.”

“Looks like dinner to me,” the other one said. They were both big guys with a resemblance that suggested they were brothers or maybe cousins.

The younger-looking vampire had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, revealing a snake tattoo on his forearm. There was something repulsive about it. 

He saw me staring at it and grinned. “You know what this means?” he asked, stroking the tattoo with a gesture that felt obscene.

“That you have no taste?” 

The other vampire lunged for me, but I was expecting it. “Get back,” I ordered. “Or you’ll regret it.”

His eyes narrowed. “Who died and made you boss, missy?”

I flashed my fangs at him. “Jure Grando.”

“You’re not the queen,” he scoffed. “You look like you belong in the back of your boyfriend’s Chevy.”

Skyler and I exchanged a glance. “How do you expect these assholes to know you’re the queen?” she asked.

She had a point. I gripped my drumstick. I’d hate to have to make my point with my trusty weapon, but I wasn’t sure I had a choice. They didn’t seem interested in letting us go.

“Do you know who we are?” The male vampires seemed offended that we weren’t aware of their identities.

“Do you know who I am?” I replied. I flashed my fangs at them, but they weren’t impressed.

“I don’t see any mark on you,” Shorter Vamp said.

“Mark?” I asked.

“Your mark,” he said impatiently. “Where’s your mark?”

“I don’t have one,” I replied.

“You’re a vampire,” he said. “Who do you belong to? Your den? Your house?”

“I belong to myself,” I said.

“Who do you belong to?” Skyler asked.

To my surprise, he answered her. “Den of Snakes. California branch.” That explained his tattoo.

“I would have guessed pig pen,” I said. “From the way you smell. But looks like I’m your queen. So back off.”

“You gonna let her talk to you like that, Jeff?” Shorter Vamp said. “Are you a leader or a bleeder?” 

“Shut up, Lennie.” Jeff made a grab for Skyler. He held her by the waist, but she stomped on his foot. It didn’t work. Those cowboy boots were tough. He probably didn’t even feel it.

“Let us go,” I said. “And nobody has to get hurt.”

“We’re not worried,” Jeff said. He grabbed Skyler by the hair and bent her neck back, his fangs gleaming.

I twirled my drumstick once and then threw it at the closest target, the shorter vamp, Lennie, who wasn’t holding Skyler. “Fly true,” I said. I didn’t want to kill him, and I’d been aiming for his shoulder. But he moved at the last second and the drumstick went through skin and bone to his heart. At this rate, I wasn’t going to have any subjects left. I didn’t like killing, even though vampires were technically already dead. My hands were shaking, and the smell of decay made me want to throw up.

“You’re going to regret that,” Jeff said. He shoved Skyler, and she almost fell but managed to scramble to me. I leaned over and helped her up, then grabbed my drumstick from the puddle of goo that used to be Lennie.

“Jeff, do you know who I am?” I asked again.

Instead of answering, he lunged, but I’d been expecting it. I twisted away and then my drumstick was at his throat.

“I’m the Vampire Queen of California,” I said.

And he must have believed me this time because that’s when he ran.