Magicstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 4) (4 page)

As she pinned the photos from the three sites
on the last wall, Brandon studied them.

“Damn it,” she growled.

The scent of blood drifted to him, hot and
sweet. His stomach clenched. Slowly, he turned.

She sucked on her finger, glaring at a stack
of files lying on the table.

Clearing his throat, Brandon said, “It’s long
past time for lunch.”

She rolled her eyes. “We don’t have time to
eat.”

His voice lost some of the smoothness. “We
can either eat, or I can eat you.”

She froze, but refused to look away.

“Come.” He left the room, not certain if she
would actually follow or not.

Didn’t matter. He needed blood, and food, to
help maintain his control.

As her scent drifted closer, an idea struck.
He had a place to take her, full of Arcaine creatures. Once she
entered O’Grady’s Pub, she’d never again deny their existence.

She’d have to believe. And that belief would
help keep her alert, maybe even alive.

He hid a sly smile, looking forward to the
reaction from this prickly woman.

The short walk to the Irish pub was quiet.
Celeste didn’t have much to say to the man at her side. But she
thought of his earlier words, about primal feelings.

When she’d cut her finger, she hadn’t thought
much of it, until she’d seen him staring at her like some sort of
buffet.

She wouldn’t have put it past him to actually
bite her. Her stomach trembled from the thought.

At that second, she’d felt fear down to her
toes, which pissed her off. She wasn’t afraid of much, and this man
shouldn’t even be a blip on her radar.

He pushed open the door of O’Grady’s, then
waited for her to enter. As she moved inside, he rested one massive
hand lightly on her lower back.

She shot him a glare, stepping away. He
shrugged as he headed further into the place.

An older man stood behind the bar, short and
round, his shocking red hair laced with white. His eyes lit as he
saw Brandon.

“Wulfgar!” He bustled around the bar and
hurried over, holding out his hand. “So which one are you?”

Brandon chuckled, a sound she thought strange
coming from him. “Hello, O’Grady. I’m Brandon.”

“Never could tell you twins apart. And how’s
your brother?”

The thought of two of them loose in this
world made her mind spin.

Shadows darkened Brandon’s eyes. Instead of
answering, he waved to her. “This is Celeste Wilder.”

O’Grady looked her over, his eyes widening.
In a whisper, he said, “She’s not one of us.”

“No, but she’s been forced to deal with our
kind. I figure if she sees your back room, she’ll get over her
nerves.”

She glared at them both as they chuckled.
Reluctantly, she followed them to the back of the bar. She wasn’t
about to back down from any challenge, no matter how silly.

As she walked through a nearly hidden
doorway, she froze, staring.

The walls were painted with murals of
creatures straight out of mythology. The atmosphere was full of
thrumming static, making her muscles tighten.

People sat at random tables scattered
throughout the room.

What she couldn’t quite comprehend was the
creature in the far corner. He wasn’t, couldn’t be human. His face
was contorted in impossible ways. It was almost as if he’d been
crossed with a snake. Multi-hued scales covered his cheeks and
chin, down his neck and bare chest. His thick arms ended in twisted
fingers tipped with long, black talons.

Beside him, a woman reclined in a chair. Her
clothes would get her locked up for indecency if she stepped
outside. But what bothered Celeste were the glittery wings. With
each flutter, glittering dust puffed around them, like an
iridescent cloud.

She stared at the woman’s back. The wings
literally came out of her skin.

At a nearby table, a man who looked human at
first glance grinned when a waitress brought over a covered tray.
The server set it down, and lifted the lid.

Celeste nearly jumped as a rat squeaked,
trying to scamper away. The man flicked a snake-like tongue. The
long, slimy thing caught the rat, wrapping around it. As he brought
the rat to his mouth, his lips split open, his jaw unhinging
strangely.

He swallowed the rat in one gulp.

Brandon’s hand clamped on her upper arm and
he dragged her to an empty table away from everyone else. “It’s
rude to stare,” he said.

She nodded, continuing to glance around the
room.

Her thoughts spun, trying to process
everything she saw. Things that couldn’t be costumes or makeup.
When a small glowing ball of light flew through the air, only to
stop right in front of her, she jumped.

The creature looked like Tinkerbell, except
for the disgruntled look on its face. “Got a problem, sister?” it
asked in a squeaky voice.

“Um, no?” she replied.

“Good.” It flew across the room and up a
staircase that Celeste hadn’t even noticed.

So much for her super-cop powers of
observation. “Where are we?”

“O’Grady’s Bar and Grill,” Brandon answered
smugly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re really
a vampire?”

“Yup.”

The waitress set a menu in front of her, then
turned to Brandon. “Your usual?”

“Of course, Jannie.”

The woman turned to her.

“Coffee. Strong.” She glanced blankly at the
menu.

“Give her a minute,” Brandon said.

The waitress bustled away while Celeste
focused on the menu, only to realize it was partitioned in
sections, each one written differently. Some were recognizably
letters, just strange languages. Others she could barely even look
at, the writing seemed to waver and flash before her eyes.

Brandon reached over and flipped it open,
pointing to a section in English.

She wanted to deny all she was seeing, but
that reeked of cowardice. And she refused to be a coward. Even
though part of her was still stuck in disbelief, she glanced at
him. “So, what, monsters exist, but hide from humans?”

He leaned back in his chair, the wood
groaning. “We’re called the Arcaine, and some of us are human.” His
voice rumbled as if angered by her question.

“But you’re a vampire.”

“I used to be mortal, like you. I’m still
human.”

“How come you hide?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard stories about mortals
going crazy and hunting anything different from them. Think about
the witch burnings, then expand that to today.”

“So why are you letting me know?”

He laid his arms on the table, leaning close.
“Would you rather be dead?”

“I suppose I should thank you for saving me
and Daily last night.” Not that she wanted to.

For all she knew, she could have taken care
of them by herself. Her hand drifted to the bites on her neck. They
throbbed as if calling her out on her lie.

“You are welcome,” he replied formally.

The waitress set a mug of steaming coffee in
front of her, another with thick red liquid in it by Brandon, then
a huge plate with two steaks, a baked potato, and a side of some
kind of shrimp salad beside it.

Celeste stared at the food as he lifted his
mug and drank. She didn’t have to ask, she could smell the coppery
tang of blood.

“You eat real food?” she asked.

“Don’t you?” he replied sarcastically.

“Yeah, but I’m huma... um, mortal.”

His eyes lit with amusement. “We eat food. We
need it as much as you do. We just also need blood.”

She shuddered at the thought of drinking
blood. The waitress cleared her throat impatiently, so she ordered
a club sandwich with fries. Brandon dug into the food with
gusto.

“So what other myths about vampires aren’t
true?”

“Most of them,” he replied between bites.

When her food arrived, she nibbled at it, but
her stomach churned.

The world had turned upside down and she
couldn’t quite find her footing. Always, she’d known who she was,
that she wanted to be a cop. But now, the line had blurred at
exactly who--and what--the bad guys were.

She set down the French fry she’d been trying
to eat. “So what about your brother? You’re twins?”

His jaw tightened, but he answered,
“Yes.”

“Is he a vampire too?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he?”

Brandon’s eyes glowed a reddish sheen.
“Somewhere safe.”

Leaning back in her chair, Celeste studied
him. If that wasn’t a telling answer, she didn’t know what was.
Safe? As opposed to not? “Let me guess, you’re older.”

He gently laid his fork on the table, then
glared at her. His voice was quiet, but thrummed with anger. And,
she thought, sorrow.

“Why all the interest in my family?” he
asked.

She shrugged and picked up another French
fry. Set it down again. Drank deeply of the coffee.

The silence stretched, taut and edgy.

“So why are you here?”

He gritted his teeth as if annoyed by her
questions. “Have you ever fought a demon? A werewolf?”

“No.”

“Then you need the help of someone who has. I
don’t know what’s out there doing the killing, but I assure you,
Detective, it’s out of your league.”

She stiffened as anger balled in her stomach.
“I’ve never had a problem closing a case before.”

Yet. He was right. She’d never faced going up
against the paranormal, Arcaine he’d called them.

He snorted and took another bite of his
steak. As he slowly chewed, his gaze burned against her skin.
“Well, then. I guess I should just leave you to it. Endless more
murders shouldn’t faze you.”

Her anger snapped. “I didn’t say I was stupid
or that I didn’t want your help.”

“Didn’t you now?” His brows rose.

“Like I told you and the captain, I’m staying
on this case. I’ll solve it too.”

“Even if it means working with--as you
pointed out--a monster like me?”

Celeste cringed as he threw the word back in
her face. She hadn’t meant it like that. Biting her tongue, she
pushed down her pride. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend
you.”

He nodded regally and took another bite.

“So you think it’s an Arcaine behind the
killings? Why?”

“Many reasons. You were correct earlier when
you said the murderer must be connected with the demon of before.
Everything is too coincidental and similar for it to be anything
else.”

A small blossom of warmth hit her from the
approval in his tone. “Then what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

She managed a bite of her sandwich, thinking
things over. “Okay, so what all types of Arcaine creatures are out
there?”

He shook his head. “You name it, it probably
exists.”

“Well, that helps narrow it down,” she
muttered.

Brandon continued to polish off his meal.

When they arrived back at the station, she
headed for the conference room. As they continued sorting the
files, part of her mind still tried to wrap around the thought of
creatures going bump in the night all around her.

Chapter
four

Keeping quiet, Brandon watched his new
temporary partner work. Confusion and uncertainty shone from her
dark chocolate eyes, yet she was holding it in. Her movements were
strained, jerky. Her hands kept fisting, clenching tight again and
again.

Compared to most mortals, she was taking the
revelation pretty well. At least she wasn’t running around,
shouting to the rooftops that the end was near.

Not that he’d expected such from her,
otherwise he’d have kept it hidden. But still, she was showing a
rare strength. Not many could get over such knowledge so
quickly.

It was admirable.

But most importantly, it would make working
with her much easier.

He half felt he should apologize for his
abruptness during their meal, but he didn’t want more pestering
questions. Not about his brother.

He pulled out his phone, texting Dalia. A
minute later, she replied. Still no change.

His phone vibrated again, this time with the
warning to stop annoying her. She’d send word if Eric came out of
his sleep.

With a sigh, Brandon turned his attention
once more to the woman in the room. She worked with nervous energy,
but he could tell it was her natural state. Celeste wasn’t one to
sit still for any period of time.

The door swung open and a man in a dark suit
strode in, a box in his hands and a sneer on his face. He let the
box drop with a loud thunk, then leaned against the table, staring
at the board Celeste had been studying.

“Kurtz,” she said sharply. “Did you need
something?”

He glanced around the room, gaze locking on
Brandon. “How’s the case coming with your new... toy?”

She stiffened.

Brandon rose to his feet, towering over the
man. He smiled ferally, allowing menace to creep into his voice as
he said pleasantly, “I’ve not been called a toy in quite a while.
Unfortunately, she won’t play with me.”

Celeste’s face pinked.

Kurtz’ scowl deepened, though a tremor ran
through his hands. Swallowing, Kurtz demanded, “Who exactly are
you?”

Celeste snapped, “If you’re that curious, go
ask the captain.”

“I would, but us lowly peons actually need an
appointment to see Uncle Wes.”

“I’ve told you before, he’s not my
uncle.”

Forgetting Brandon, Kurtz leered at her.
“Then I wonder how else you get your special favors.”

Brandon ground his teeth as his anger boiled.
His fangs lengthened. The way this male was talking to Celeste was
unforgivable. He froze, taking a deep breath at the swift reactions
he was having for this female.

Celeste straightened, the broomstick back.
“Is that an insinuation of me using sexual favors? If I recall, you
already have two sexual harassment charges pending. Perhaps I
should add another.”