kate storm 04 - witches dont back down (10 page)

Luckily, I've got nowhere to go on that curve except up.

Désirée Norma-Sue handed the phone back to me.

"Lana Jacobs is a major bitch." Morgan stated. "We need to find out who's behind this and shut her up."

I totally agreed. I just wasn't sure where to start which is why I'd called Morgan.

"Do you have any ideas?" I asked.

"None." Morgan sighed heavily. "You don't have a lot of friends among the non-humans, Kate."

This was not news. On the other hand, I didn't have a lot of enemies either. The HC ignored me or dismissed me for the most part.

"Let me check around. Désirée can do the same thing. We'll find out who is behind this."

Perfect. Morgan and Désirée would concentrate on the person/creature trying to undermine my business, and I would concentrate on Morgause.

"We could meet up tomorrow night and see what we've learned."

I opened my mouth to automatically agree when it hit me.

"Meet up where, Morgan?"

"This great new bar I know." She replied in a suspiciously neutral voice.

"This great bar wouldn't happen to be the same bar that has Friday night karaoke, would it?"

Morgan sighed so heavily I could practically taste the blood of her last meal.

"I'm still thinking about it, Morgan. I'll talk to you later."

I hung up before she could say anything else.

So help me, if I was forced to sit through karaoke in order to handle my problems with Lana Jacobs . . . I'd add in a chin hair growing spell in addition to the gas ones.

11. Demons, Chihuahuas and Motorcycles.

I found two potential matches for Ant Leroy before I headed home.

I was ecstatic, because I was zero for zero with everything else.

Aunt Tabs had left by the time I called. I left her a message to call me back. I didn't find out any more information on Nina Georgette. She had one Facebook page and one Twitter account. My search on Google hadn't turned up anything else. That's not unusual with the HC. They're masters of deception. They've had to be. It's not as if they can add in many details to their Facebook page.

A vampire can't type in, "I'm a vampire and I drink blood" under the
about
section on their Facebook page. Can you imagine? They'd have threats, people volunteering to donate and government officials wearing suits and wingtips at their front door within hours.

Lying is natural to them.

And makes it tricky to find out the actual truth.

I used both my magic and as many key search words as I could think of, but I didn't get anywhere.

The same went for Morgause. That was beginning to concern me. I should have found out more information about her and her whereabouts by now. The fact that I hadn't made me wonder if Morgause was using some sort of black magic spell to hide her location. I knew black magic could be used to disguise certain things, but to make someone totally disappear?

I didn't know. I'd never studied black magic. And the very thought sent major chills down my spine.

If Morgause could totally hide her very being from me, I was utterly doomed. She'd stab me through the back before I knew she was even there.

I didn't even get to start on Ash's sin before I had to leave. Ash, Al and I were meeting at
Got Fangs?
for a drink.

I hoped they wanted me to meet them there for a celebratory "I found a job" drink.

I needed more from my day than a possible match or two. Most days I consider that to be a good day. But as a counter measure against all the rest of the crap filling up my life, two matches just didn't cut it.

Ash and Al got to the bar before I did.

It took me a minute while my eyes adjusted to spot them. The sun was still high in the sky and shining at full force outside. Inside
Got Fangs?
darkness reigned supreme. Lolly, the warlock owner, had decided to go Goth in his decorations. And by Goth, I mean black. Black walls, black ceiling, black floor, black tables and chairs, black bar - you get the picture. It was like walking into a cave.

The HC loved it. It was the one place in town where they got to hang out and act natural in public. Natural for a member of the HC. The definition of which can vary depending upon which species you belong to. I won't get into specifics, but I will say I've seen vampires covered in the fresh and still dripping blood of their most recent kill walk around without anyone saying anything. Not even the humans. The humans think
Got Fangs?
is some sort of costume bar. They tend to dress up themselves. Long black satin capes, ruffled shirts and tall black boots.

I've tried not to snicker along with the HC. But really.

What self-respecting vampire goes about dressed like a pirate?

Morgan prefers skin tight leather. With a slight dominatrix bent.

I made my way over to the table where Ash and Al sat. Ash sat in a chair. Al sat on the table.

Lolly, the owner, was sympathetic to Al's situation. He had a cousin who was currently residing inside a miniature pony. Al was welcomed at
Got Fangs?
.

I pondered the two men in my life as I approached them. One tall, dark and be-horned, the other short, dark and furry.

Total opposites in both appearances and personalities.

Ash could hold his own in any fight, but preferred to leave Hell versus living life as a king in constant battle there.

Al loved a good murder, especially one he could take part in. He'd make an excellent King of Demons.

Not that I planned to mention it and give him any ideas.

I loved them both. In totally different ways. But equally with my whole heart.

I couldn't ever choose between them. They were each essential to me and my life. Like breathing in air. That kind of essential.

Neither one of them cared that I was a cursed, half-bred, mortal witch.

Ash stood and pulled a chair out as I walked up. He wrapped one hand around my neck and cupped my ass with the other and pulled me in for a kiss. Sweet Spirits can that demon kiss!

I slid into my chair on shaky knees when he let me go.

"Heya, Doll. You okay?" Al trotted over and gave me a soft lick on my lips. I could taste the bourbon he was drinking. And I made note of the level of alcohol in his glass. Al isn't an alcoholic, but he is very small. Too much could hurt him.

"I'm good. How did the job search go today?

Ash handed me a beer. He didn't let go of the bottle and I frowned at him. He was studying my face intently.

"Al's right. Something's wrong. What happened?"

I didn't want to talk about my day. I would prefer to forget it, but the new and improved Kate reminded me I didn't duck and dodge anymore.

I pulled the beer bottle out of Ash's hand, took a long gulp and then outlined the current events in my life from not finding Morgause to Lana Jacobs and a new unknown enemy.

It took longer than I expected. I was almost finished with my second beer and the weeknight crowd had begun filtering in before I finished.

Ash was furious I hadn't mentioned events as they had been unfolding.

Al was furious I still considered Nina Georgette a potential enemy.

He also asked me for her phone number. Crazy Chihuahua.

"Enough about my day. Did you find a job?" I turned towards Ash. Al was blinking his bulging wet eyes at me and I was afraid I'd give in and give him Nina's phone number.

Ash smiled. Very satisfied. "I think we did."

"We?"

"Al and I came up with the plan, but I think Drake and Phil will want in as well."

Ash
and
Al had a plan? I'd been expecting a possible job. Not a plan. And certainly not one that involved my Chihuahua.

I finished off my beer and braced myself.

"What's your plan?"

"We're going to open a motorcycle shop."

Huh. I hadn't seen that one coming.

"I wasn't aware either of you knew anything about motorcycles." I didn't bring up Al's paws or the fact he couldn't hold a wrench.

Both of them looked so pleased with themselves.

I was pleased they were bonding.

We could work through everything else.

"We don't. I looked it up and there are online classes I can take. I can be certified in three months."

Huh.

I wanted to be the supportive witch. I truly did. I knew how important it was to Ash–more specifically his demon ego–to have a job. I got it. Honestly, I couldn't imagine giving up a kingdom which led to my issues of self-doubt. However . . . A motorcycle shop? Given that neither one of them knew anything about motorcycle mechanics and one member of the partnership was very, very short, furry and oblivious to the facts of reality?

Although I could see Ash on a big, black bike. His powerful legs straddling the bike, big hands wrapped securely around the grips.

Come to think of it, Ash dressed the part of a bad ass biker already.

And I could see myself on the back of that same bike. My arms wrapped around his rock hard waist.

My mental Kate wore skintight leather–pants, a bustier and leather cuffs. She'd somehow managed to lose a good forty pounds as well.

Damn.

I could see it. Ash and Al standing in the garage opening of a dimly lit, shadowed building complete with grimy windows, the smell of grease and leather and large masculine tools scattered about. In my mind, Al even wore a teeny tiny leather vest, similar to Ash's, but with silver studs and minus the leather tie.

Still, I had to be the voice of reason.

"What makes you think Drake and Phil will want to be partners in your shop? Do they know anything about motorcycles?"

Ash, Drake and Phil each had a large pickup. I'd never seen any one of them drive a motorcycle.

"Phil does." Al leaned into my shoulder. "He has a couple bikes he's rebuilt on his own."

I tried to imagine Désirée Norma-Sue's very large and rotund boyfriend on a bike. I just couldn't picture it. Phil was a gargoyle, his weight alone would flatten the bike.

"And Drake?"

"He loves bikes. He went to Sturgis last year. He knows a fair amount about bikes too. And Drake told me he needs something to do."

Drake had essentially moved in with Morgan. He's wealthy and doesn't have to work, but I know most members of the HC have jobs. Boredom is a serious problem with them. After so many centuries of living, if they don't stay engaged and interested in life, they can fall into a state of despair and simply waste away.

"The nearest motorcycle shop is almost an hour away, Doll." Al blinked his moist brown eyes at me. "We'd have the market cornered."

Ash nodded. "I talked with Snake. He even offered us startup money. We'd have a couple days’ worth of work each week from his motorcycle club alone."

"I could help with . . ." I trailed off. Ash and Al were both glaring at me.

"I'm not taking any money from you, Kate." Ash picked up my hand, rubbing his thumb over the back as if to take the sting out of his refusal. "And I'm not going to take Snake's money either. Don't worry. I can afford to open my own shop. This is what I want to do."

Al growled.

"What we want to do." Ash amended.

"Okay." I still had a few doubts, but Ash and Al were both excited about the prospect. Ash would have his own business. Excuse me. Ash
and
Al would have their own business. I still wasn't sure what role Al would play in a mechanics shop, but I'd leave it up to the two of them.

I raised my empty bottle. "Here's to your new shop."

Ash clinked his bottle to mine. Al licked my lips.

At least there was one problem solved.

12. Bad Witches.

We picked up Italian on our way home from
Got Fangs?
.

Al said he wanted to eat his dinner in front of the TV. They were showing the entire first season of
The Sopranos
on one of the channels. Next week they planned to air the second season.

I set up his bowl on a small tray on the couch and found the right channel.

"Do you need anything else, Al?"

"I'm good, Doll. Thanks." He grunted and started in on the cut up meatball mixed in with his kibble.

Al didn't often watch mafia shows. They reminded him too much of the life he didn't have anymore. The intimidation and corruption. The weight of a gun in his hand. The satisfaction he got from a successful hit.

The good old days.

Al had been a very thorough and extremely proficient hitman. Killing never bothered him. He didn't have any moral issues with it, but he wasn't a sociopath. I think in human form, Al simply had a very limited skill set. Very, very limited. One could even go so far as to say his skill set included a gun and a target. And a passion for Italian food, but that didn't really count as a marketable strength. Murder for hire was a job to him. Nothing more.

I sincerely hoped he could find a new ability he was good at in the motorcycle shop. Al wasn't bored, but I'd been worrying lately that going to work with me wasn't healthy for him. I was working on a solution to my relationship issues. I didn't know of anything I could do to help Al. Unless he accepted the fact that he was now a Chihuahua and found another Chihuahua to love, I couldn't think of any solution to his being alone. And even if he did fall in love with a Chihuahua, how could he possibly be happy? He was the ghost of a man trapped inside the body of a small dog. He wasn't a true dog. I was terribly afraid he would be alone for the rest of his life.

I went out onto the deck where Ash had set up our take-out, closing the door behind me.

"Al's watching TV." I told Ash, wondering if I should bring up my concerns. Ash didn't have any pets growing up, but he was male. He might have a different perspective on Al.

"I know. I asked him to give us some space."

I frowned. He had? I didn't like my boyfriend and my Chihuahua conspiring behind my back and I didn't want Al to feel excluded. Like he was the third wheel.

"Why didn't you tell me, Kate?" Small orange and red flames sparked to life over Ash's shoulders.