shadows of salem 01 - shadow born (6 page)

A moment later, as he stepped into the light and I got my first real look at his face, my heart stuttered back to life.

If God and Satan got together on a sunny day to create something, I imagine they would have come up with something similar to the savage perfection that was Lord Tremaine’s face. My gaze traveled across high, broad cheekbones that looked as though they could slice steel, down the length of a straight, Roman nose, and paused at cruel, sensual lips that were pressed into a straight line. His triangular jaw was strong, his skin tanned and glowing ever so slightly in the lamplight.

He was, in a word, otherworldly, but it was his eyes that captured my attention most. They were a brilliant green, the color of new leaves, and though they appeared human at a glance, there was something more ancient and alien about them than even the arctic stares of his security guards. Those eyes, framed by thick black lashes, widened as green fire sprang to life inside them.

“It’s you again!” he growled, his Scottish burr growing thick with anger. I stumbled back instinctively as he took an angry step toward me.

“Me again?” I dug my heels into the ground to keep myself from scurrying away from Tremaine’s menacing presence. Sure, he might be scary enough to send the monsters beneath my bed running for cover, but that didn’t mean I had to let him see it.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I pressed.

“Dinnae give me that,” he snarled, his Italian leather dress shoes clicking across the concrete as he closed the distance between us. “I’d recognize yer silver hair and witchy eyes from ten thousand leagues away. I dinnae know why ye’ve come back again, but I wilna let ye sink your meddling claws into my affairs anymore.”

“Dude.” It took a lot of effort for me to keep my voice even—Tremaine was less than a foot away, and the anger radiating from his big body was so palpable I swore it was singeing the tip of my nose. “I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, but I’ve never laid eyes on you in my life. Believe me, I would know if I’d run across someone like you before.”

Heat suffused my cheeks at that little slip, and I straightened as best I could with my hands still zip-tied behind my back.

Some of the anger left Tremaine’s eyes, and his green glare grew cold, calculating. “Yer telling the truth, or at least you believe yerself to be.” His gaze raked me up and down, sending a tremor through my spine, and his eyes lingered at the detective’s shield winking at my belt. “A cop now, are ya?” he asked, disbelief ringing in his voice.

“Yes, I am,” I said tightly. “And with the way your man over there manhandled me and took my gun, I’m well within my rights to charge him for assaulting an officer.” I glared at the guard in question, but if he was the least bit intimidated by my threat, he didn’t let it show.

“I know all of the police in this town,” Tremaine murmured, his eyes still studying me as though I were a particularly vexing puzzle. “I would know if you’d been hiding under my nose as a member of the force.”

“I’m a new transfer,” I snapped, scowling. Not exactly the truth, but he didn’t need to know that. “Not that I need to explain myself to you. Now why don’t you untie me and give me my damned gun back? I came in here after a suspect, but if you don’t let me loose now, I sure as hell will come back here with a task force and a warrant to scour this place top to bottom. I’m sure we’ll be able to find something dirty enough to get your panties in a twist.”

Tremaine laughed. “The police dinnae scare me.” He scoffed. The sparkle of amusement in his eye sent a flush through my body, and I gritted my teeth against his asinine response. “But while we’re on the subject, who’s yer suspect? I cannae imagine it’s me, or ye would have said so already, aye? Yet, that’s the logical conclusion since ye were eavesdropping outside my door.”

“That’s none of your damn business.”

“It is if yer in my club,” Tremaine said, his voice softly menacing.

I was going in circles here. “Fine, then. Remy Vox,” I snapped. “My partner and I are looking into an alleged drug-dealing operation he’s got on the side. Now I gave you something. Tell me something.”

Tremaine’s eyes narrowed, and he turned away. I watched as he spoke quietly to one of the guards, and though I strained my ears to catch what they were saying, I couldn’t hear a single word.
Dammit
. Why couldn’t I have been born with super-hearing?

“Yes, sir,” the guard said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Good.” Tremaine straightened. “Take care of her, too.”

He turned and headed toward the exit.

“Wait…what?” I cried as fear ballooned in my chest. “You can’t kill me. I’m a fucking police officer!”

Tremaine didn’t even bother to glance my way, and as the guard who’d originally brought me here closed in on me, I lost sight of Tremaine’s retreating back. Cursing, I tried to fight against the guard as he grabbed my shoulder and wrists, but it was impossible with my hands tied behind my back. Besides, if the kick I’d given him earlier was any indication, I doubt that I’d be able to make a dent in him with brute force. I wondered if either of my guns would work on any of these guys.

“Your boss is gonna land your ass in jail,” I warned. “You would be better served to let me go and return my firearm.”

No response.

I growled as the guard dragged me down the stairs and past the dancing and drinking patrons. A few of them glanced my way as we passed, but for the most part, we were largely ignored. Was this a fairly normal sight for them? Ugh. That thought didn’t make me feel at all better.

“You’re gonna end up with a whole police force snooping around here, and you can’t disappear them all,” I tried again. “Don’t take the fall for this one. Jail isn’t a pretty place, even for a tough guy like you.”

“Not worried about it,” he said, voice void of any emotion.

He dragged me through the kitchen, a large area behind the bar full of stainless steel appliances and white tile. The air was heavy with the smell of fried food and the sound of sizzling meat; my stomach would have growled had the situation not been so dire. Despite my struggling and shouts, the kitchen staff didn’t spare more than a cursory glance our way.

The guard shoved me through the back door, and I stumbled into the dimly lit back alley. I would have tripped over the cobblestones if the guard hadn’t snagged me by the arm…not that I was thanking him or anything, since they clearly meant to kill me.

“Let me go!” I shrieked as loudly as I could, hoping that someone outside the club—someone who might give a damn—would hear me and come running.

Except my screams seemed to die as they fell off my lips. No echoing off the walls, nothing. The alley was eerily silent; I couldn’t even hear traffic whizzing by in the distance. It was like we were in a bubble.

And yet, I tried again, because it was all I could do at this point.

“Scream all you want, love. Nobody’s going to hear you back here.” A nasally voice caught my attention, and the guard hauled me around, bringing me face to face with a short, bald man sitting on a trash can. He looked me up and down, his mud-brown eyes gleaming with interest as he swung his short legs back and forth over the edge of the can. The guy focused his gaze on my assailant. “Another one, eh?” he asked. “You guys sure seem to be into ‘taking care of business’ lately.”

“Just shut up and deal with her already,” the guard growled.

The guy lifted a stubby hand, and wild fear raced through me as I realized that this little man was somehow going to kill me. Something icy burned around my wrists, and a loud crack split the air as my restraints fell away. The guard holding me startled, and he loosened his grip just enough for me to tear myself away.

“Don’t move!” I shouted, pulling my vampire gun from its holster. I backed away, alternating the barrel of my gun between both men. “I’ll shoot!”

The guard looked at me as though I were a mild annoyance, and the bald man laughed. “Just what do you think you’re gonna do with that, kid?”

I hesitated, thrown off by how blasé the two of them were about my gun. Would my bullets even affect them? “You’re both under arrest for assaulting a police officer. Put your hands up.”

The bald guy shook his head. “It’s no wonder the bossman wants you taken care of,” he said ruefully. “If you’re stupid enough to think that prison cells can hold us, then you don’t belong here.”

He lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers in my direction. Glowing green sparks drifted from his fingers, and I squeezed the trigger reflexively against the attack. Not exactly the reaction I would have to a human suspect wiggling fingers at me, but I learned a long time ago that you don’t give supernaturals the same courtesy if you want to live.

“Oww!” The bald man cried as the wooden bullet ripped through his shoulder. His mud-brown eyes flashed an eerie yellow as he slapped his hand against the wound, and I gaped as golden liquid, rather than blood, stained his fingers. “Damn, lady, just what
are you?
”

“I’m pissed, and if you guys don’t give me back my other gun, I’m going to—”

I stopped and blinked. The bald man was gone, and so was the hulking guard who’d been standing right next to him. What the fuck? They’d just been standing right in front of me! How could they be gone?

I rushed back inside the building, then skidded to a halt. The kitchen was completely empty. No cooks frying food, no pots and pans hanging from the walls…even the white tile was gone, replaced by stained concrete.

“No, this isn’t right,” I muttered, pushing my way past the double doors and into the club itself.

But the place was just as empty as the kitchen. The glossy bar and tables were gone, as were all the patrons. There was nothing here but concrete, dust, and some small piles of refuse.

I stood there in the middle of the room, completely stunned. I’d never come across anything like this in my life. How had an entire club full of people disappeared between one second and the next?

Wiping memories from objects was one thing, but wiping an entire place from existence was another. Even the building itself didn’t seem the same…the ceiling was lower, and the mezzanine was completely gone.

My cellphone rang, and I jumped as the shrill tone echoed in the empty space. Heart hammering, I pulled it out and answered without looking at the caller ID.

“Brooke Chandler,” I snapped.

“No need to take that snippy tone with me, Chandler,” Detective Baxter scolded. “I’ve had my hands full dragging that perp back to the station without your help, but I thought I’d call you and let you know that we apprehended the suspect. So if you’re still looking for him, you can go home.”

“What?” I gripped the cellphone so hard I was surprised my fingers didn’t leave dents in the plastic. “How is that possible? I just saw Vox a couple of minutes ago.”

“Turns out we had the wrong guy,” Baxter said, and I could hear the shrug in his voice. “Captain Randall said that he’d gotten a phone call with new information that put Vox in the clear, and one of the other detectives was already looking into the new suspect and nabbed him. Kind of sucks that we didn’t get the collar, but what can you do?”

“What can you do,” I echoed, my mind spinning back to the conversation I’d had with Tremaine. He’d stepped away and had a conversation with one of his guards after I’d mentioned Vox was my suspect, and the guard had said he would ‘take care of it.’ Was that what had happened? Had they somehow put Captain Randall onto a different suspect? Anger tightened my chest at the idea.

“You okay, Chandler?” Baxter asked, concern in his voice. “You seem kind of down.”

I let out a breath. “I’m fine, Detective Baxter. It’s just been a long day.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Why don’t you go home and take a load off? I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sounds good.” I clicked off, then took one last look around the room before exiting through the back alley and making my way toward home.

But not to relax.

No, after tonight there was no way I could put up my feet and chill. I didn’t know who the hell this Tremaine guy thought he was, but I fully intended to tear apart this town until I found him.

CHAPTER 6

B
y the time I got home, I’d worked myself up into a righteous fury. Somehow I’d gone from chasing down a drug dealer to being tied up and nearly killed by a pompous supernatural club owner with a stick up his ass.

It irked me to no end that I didn’t know who or what Lord Tremaine was, so instead of eating the Chinese takeout I’d picked up on the way home, I snatched up my laptop, plopped down onto the couch, and settled in to do some serious Googling.

Since the only lead I had was the building, I started there. I’d noted the address before I left, so I plugged it in now, then did a search through county records to find out who owned it.

Turned out that it belonged to one Maddock Tremaine, purchased over five years ago. A little more digging revealed that he’d intended to turn it into a club, but due to unknown reasons, the building continued to sit empty.

Well, they’re wrong about that.

I scoffed, saving the article to a bookmark folder before I closed it. Maddock Tremaine certainly had built a club inside the building. He’d just done it in such a way that he could make it vanish from the naked eye at will.

Just how powerful did someone have to be in order to do that?

A little shiver crawled along my spine at the thought of being face-to-face with a supernatural that potent. I was surprised he hadn’t killed me himself—surely if he could make an entire club disappear, he had enough power in his pinky finger to end me. But he’d had his guards take me out back so a little bald man could do it instead.

What if he wasn’t trying to kill you?

The thought popped into my head so suddenly that my fingers froze on the keyboard. I cast my thoughts back to that moment in the alley, searching for any context clues that indicated they were planning something else. Although they’d liberally flung around the phrase “take care of her,” nobody had actually specified what that was supposed to mean. And in the end, all Mr. Trash Can had managed to do was wiggle his fingers and send a couple of sparks my way.