Vampire’s Descent: Willow Harbor - Book Two Read online

  Five

  Mason

  I worked longer than I’d intended. By the time I was finished with the cover mockup I’d created for one of my regular clients, it was a quarter till eight. Claire would be at the bookstore soon. While I didn’t want her waiting for me, I still wanted to pick up a coffee for each of us before we started searching through her brother’s things at the bookstore. I figured we’d both need a pick-me-up beforehand.

  I stretched my arms above my head as I waited for my computer to shut down. It was another thing I did out of habit. There wasn’t a sore or stiff muscle in my body from sitting so long. Heck, I could probably sit at a computer for weeks without feeling any discomfort. Another perk to being a member of the undead, I guess. I added it to the short list of pros I’d compiled.

  As soon as my computer screen went black, I left my apartment and headed for the stairs. Once my boots hit the sidewalk, I made my way toward Urban Grind. I struggled to remember what Claire had ordered earlier from there. It was something with vanilla, I remembered that much. Loran would remember. Claire had told him to make whatever her favorite vanilla thing had been when she still lived here, and he’d nailed it.

  Urban Grind was busier this time of night. A group of five teenagers entered the place before me. Out of the five, at least two were supernaturals. The rest were human. I watched as they walked to the counter, ready to place their orders. I stepped in line behind a petite human girl. She gathered her blond hair into a high bun on top of her head, exposing her delicate neck to me. Her carotid artery pulsed as the guy beside her reached for her hand. Young love. I inhaled, meaning to let out a sigh, but her sweet scent saturating the air between us became something I couldn’t ignore. It lured me to her against my will. My feet shuffled forward until I was almost too close to her to seem polite for strangers. All I could focus on was her sweet scent and the way her artery pulsed in a hypnotic rhythm. My heart rate spiked as a sudden onset of hunger twisted through my stomach. A prick of pain pierced my gums and had alarm nipping at my insides.

  Not here. Not now.

  My tongue swept along my teeth, feeling for fangs. When there was no sign of them, my muscles loosened.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  I’d never let my hunger get the best of me so fast. It was clear to me now I couldn’t continue to starve myself while rationing my blood supply and think I’d be able to remain in control.

  I forced myself to forget how to breathe. Maybe it would help. If I couldn’t smell blood or a person’s irresistible scent maybe I wouldn’t have as many issues.

  When the teens had paid for their orders and moved to find an area to sit at large enough for the five of them, I headed for the counter.

  “Back for a nighttime pick-me-up, I see,” Loran said.

  I noticed the young girl who’d been in front of me while I waited in line had doubled back. She slipped between me and the counter, barely leaving inches between her body and mine.

  “Sorry, I forgot to ask for a straw,” she said in a tinkling voice.

  The thumping of her heart met with my ears as I focused on the pulsating artery in her neck again. I took a step back, putting distance between us. She was tempting the monster within me.

  Maybe spending time with Claire tonight wasn’t the best idea.

  I closed my eyes and attempted to calm myself, but the sounds of hearts pumping and fast-moving blood rushing through the veins of those around me was overwhelming. My hands fisted at my sides as I struggled to restrain myself. Slowly, I counted to ten in my head.

  Loran cleared his throat. I cracked one eye open. Had the girl gone? A knowing look festered in his eyes. I waited for him to say something, to point out my weakness or scold me, but he didn’t.

  “The usual?” he muttered, his jaw tense.

  I nodded, but didn’t speak. Opening my mouth for any reason wasn’t a good idea. Not until I was out of here.

  “Coming right up,” he said, his hard-set eyes never wavering from mine. Even when he stepped to the machine, his eyes remained on me.

  Was he fearful I’d attack his customers?

  I averted my gaze from him and loosened my hands at my sides. Having anyone in Willow Harbor fear me was the last thing I wanted. It was bad enough Mrs. Ackerman had called me out earlier on my feeding habits. Now it seemed Loran was about to do the same. The look on his face said it all.

  “I know it isn’t any of my business, but I happen to like you,” he said as he set my coffee in front of me on the counter. “You seem to be having a difficult time, one that doesn’t bode well for anyone. I have a few bags in the back I like to keep on hand for your type, if you’re interested. It’s for emergencies only. I’m not anyone’s supplier, just so we’re clear. While I do consider coffee sustenance, it’s sustenance of the mind, not the body.”

  “How much?” Desperation hung in my voice. I hated the way I sounded, but I wasn’t in a position to think on it for long. Loran was offering to help, and I’d be stupid if I let pride get in my way and didn’t accept.

  “This one’s on the house.” He winked. “You interested?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “One second,” he said as he headed toward the back of the shop. I ran my hands through my hair as I released a long sigh.

  I didn't know what made him offer, but I was thankful.

  I grabbed my coffee and focused on the sensation of warmth seeping into my palm from it. It didn’t help occupy my mind enough. All I wanted was to feed.

  Seconds ticked away. Relief settled through me when Loran finally came back with a brown bag in hand.

  “Here you are. The organic, fair trade beans you ordered last week.” He slid the bag across the counter to me. “Remember, that’s all I’ve got. If you need another refill anytime soon, you need to look elsewhere. This isn’t something I plan to do regularly for you,” he muttered.

  “Got it.” I grabbed the bag. “Oh, I forgot. I’m meeting Claire. Do you think you could whip up one of those vanilla things she had this morning?”

  “Of course, you should probably take those beans up to your apartment and give them a test before meeting with her, though. Don’t you think?” Loran arched a brow. The good-natured vibe he always harbored drifted away to be replaced by a sense of protection and duty. I knew it had everything to do with Claire.

  I hated he thought I’d ever hurt her.

  Hell, I hated he thought I’d ever hurt anyone in Willow Harbor. Didn’t living here for over a year without incident give me any credit in his eyes? I guess it hadn’t in Mrs. Ackerman’s either. Apparently, I’d have to be more than an outstanding vampire to prove myself to the residents of this town.

  “Don’t worry. I will,” I said.

  “Good. Her father has been through enough. So has she. Neither of them needs any more tragedy or traumatic events in their lives.”

  “I know.”

  Loran nodded before moving to make Claire’s drink. Five minutes later, I held both coffees in my hands along with a brown paper bag containing blood. A sense of calm swept over me once I stepped outside into the fresh, salty air and headed back to my apartment.

  There was a light on in the bookstore. I glanced in one of the large front windows before opening the door leading up to the apartments. Claire stood inside the shop. Her back was to me and her arms were wrapped tightly around her middle as she gazed around the store. Was she searching for something out of the ordinary? Or was this the first time she’d stepped foot inside since her brother’s death?

  I frowned. Guilt rushed through me at the thought of not being there for her, but I needed to do something first. I swung the door to the stairs open and bolted up them, taking two at a time.

  When I reached my apartment, I rushed inside and set the coffees on the kitchen counter. My attention drifted to the brown paper bag. I could faintly smell the blood inside. When I jerked the bag open, I noticed there wasn’t one inside like I’d thought, but two. They were
taped together. A yellow sticky note caught my attention when I pulled them out. One word in thick, bold letters jolted me.

  Vegetarian.

  What did that mean? What the hell was vegetarian blood? Did it come from a human vegetarian? I had no idea. Frankly, I didn’t care.

  My hands shook as I ripped off the tape holding the two bags together. There wasn’t a note attached to the second bag. Maybe they’d had been stored together because they were the same? I stared at them, looking for a difference in color or texture. There didn’t seem to be any. Both looked like normal, mouthwatering bags of blood to me. My stomach grumbled as I continued to stare at them. I was starved.

  I ripped the top corner off one and placed it to my lips. If it were human blood, it might do more harm than good, but I wasn’t in a position to care. It was blood, and I needed it. I sucked on the corner and the familiar grassy taste of animal blood blasted across my tongue. My muscles relaxed as my eyes rolled back into my head while I greedily gulped the contents. It wasn’t long before I drained the entire bag. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood there, panting as the nutrients I’d so desperately craved worked their way through my body, satisfying every cell.

  I tossed the empty bag in the trash. My eyes dipped to the sticky note, and suddenly I understood what vegetarian meant in this case. Animal blood. How Loran had been able to tell I preferred animal blood over human I didn’t know. Could he smell it on me? Could he sense it somehow?

  I splashed water on my face and rinsed my mouth out. The last thing I wanted was for Claire to know I’d had to feed before seeing her. Although with as late as I was, it would give me a legitimate excuse. After drying myself off with a paper towel, I pulled in a few measured breaths to get back into the habit of breathing normally again. I’d learned early on the sight of something so ordinary made me seem less threatening. I stashed the extra bag of blood in the fridge and grabbed our coffees before heading out the door again. My steps were light. I felt better than I had in days. There was something to be said about giving your body the type of nourishment it craved.

  Lena was coming up the stairs when I reached them. There were brown bags of groceries in her hands. I moved to the side and waited. The stairs were too narrow for two people to pass each other when someone was carrying something. I skimmed the contents I could make out, thinking this was one more thing I could add to the short list of things I knew about her—either she wasn’t much for cooking, or she ate like a damn bird. It was rare I saw her carrying in groceries. Typically, shifters harbored large appetites. I imagined it had something to do with transforming into their alter ego burning loads of calories. I’d seen Claire chow down on chili cheese dogs once and was shocked by the speed she’d eaten them.

  Lena was different. She was a shifter, but based on her grocery habits I’d decided she must be something small. No small animal I could think of seemed to fit her, though. She wasn’t a mouse. There was something too mysterious about her.

  Lena smiled as she passed by me. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” I replied.

  She continued toward her apartment without another glance my way and I started down the stairs, eager to get to the bookstore. I hoped Claire was still there. I had every intention of helping search for the book her brother had mentioned. There was a strange pull festering inside of me I couldn’t shake. I didn’t know if it stemmed from Claire or the book we were searching for.

  Claire stood in the same spot I’d witnessed her in earlier when I stepped into the shop. Her arms were still wrapped around her middle, and when she shifted to look at me from over her shoulder, I couldn’t help but notice the lost expression pooling in her eyes.

  Being here must be overwhelming for her. Guilt swarmed me. I shouldn’t have made her step inside alone. I should’ve been here when I said I would be.

  “Sorry I’m late. I had a few things to finish on one of my covers. There’s a strict deadline for it. Oh, and I picked up these.” I lifted the coffee cups.

  Claire released a long breath and ran her fingers through her dark hair. There was something so fragile looking about her in those few seconds. The instant her eyes lifted to meet mine again her signature strength was back in place, and the delicate sense about her was gone.

  “It’s okay,” she said. She pointed to two cups on the counter beside the cash register. “Looks like great minds think alike. I bought us coffee, too.” A smile twisted at the corners of her lips, but it was forced. I could tell. I’d studied her enough since meeting her to memorize what a real smile looked like.

  “Guess so. Well, at least we’ll both have one for later,” I said.

  “Yeah. There’s a mini fridge and a small microwave in the back.” She started toward the office, scooping up the coffees she’d bought along the way.

  I followed her, trying to ignore the chemical scent the closer to the office we came. It tickled my nose and made my eyes water. I wasn’t sure why this surprised me as much as it did. Danny had died here. Of course someone would’ve cleaned the area. Especially after all the blood I’d smelled. They would’ve had to. When we entered the small office, my stomach churned. The smell of bleach and cleaner was overpowering. I cleared my throat and took a sip from my coffee to tame the tickle the harsh scent of the place caused. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being here. It was awkward standing in the space someone had died only a few days ago. I wondered if Danny was here with us now, watching.

  The thought creeped me out.

  I glanced around. Not to search for Danny but to check the place out. I’d never been back here before. There wasn’t much to look at. A small desk, a couple bookshelves, an oversized recliner, a double filing cabinet with a small microwave on top, and a mini fridge beside it.

  “So,” Claire said as she bent at the waist and placed her two coffees inside the mini fridge. “I guess we should start looking for the book. This was Danny’s office. It’s where he spent the majority of his time. If the book is in the shop, it will be in here somewhere.” Her voice was rough around the edges when she spoke. I knew it was because she was having a difficult time being here.

  I hated it for her.

  “Okay, um, do you want me to pick a section of the room to search?” I wasn’t sure if there was a place she wanted me to look so she didn’t have to. His desk maybe, since I was pretty sure by the potent smell of cleaners lingering around it that was where Danny had been found. There was no amount of cleaner in the world that could dilute the scent of blood soaked into the fabric-covered desk chair and crevices of the hardwood flooring nearby.

  I hoped Claire hadn’t noticed. She was a shifter, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t so upset to be here that she’d gone nose-blind. The scent would most likely make Danny’s death that much more real, and I didn’t want her to feel that way. It would hurt her. She looked as though she’d already had enough pain for one day.

  Was being here the right thing to do? Was it too soon?

  “Why don’t you search that bookshelf?” She pointed to the one behind me. “I’ll take my brother’s desk.”

  “Are you sure?” It seemed as though that would be the last place she would want to search. Apparently, I was wrong.

  Claire nodded, heading straight for it.

  My eyes zeroed on her fingers as she gripped hold of the chair and rolled it out to sit in it. Her breath seemed to still as a tiny gasp pushed its way past her lips. I didn’t know if I should say or do something, so I froze. My gaze swept over the chair, taking in the brown stains across the cream-colored fabric. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. There was no way to make her unsee what she’d seen.

  “Why didn’t they toss this chair out?” Claire’s tone was sharp, but her words wavered with emotion. Daggers shot through my heart at the sound. “The people my dad hired to clean this place should’ve tossed this damn chair out. It’s ruined. What’s the point in keeping it?” She spun to face me as though I was supposed to have an answer for her.

&nb
sp; My throat constricted because I didn’t have one. Her eye color magnified as unshed tears filled her eyes. I didn’t want to see her cry.

  “Maybe they weren’t sure you wanted them to.” I knew the second the words left my mouth I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

  “There’s blood all over it! Obviously, it isn’t worth keeping.” She pushed the chair up against the far wall and spun it around so the splatters of blood were hidden from view. It bounced back as though it were following her to the desk. Her foot kicked out, sending it flush against the wall. I reached for it and held it in place before it could find its way back to her again. “Thank you,” she said through clenched teeth. Her attention shifted back to the desk, and she searched through her brother’s things.

  I didn’t move. All I could do was watch her shoulders rise and fall with each breath as she attempted to calm herself. When she reached for a stack of books resting on the corner of the desk I thought she was the bravest person I knew. If I was in her shoes, I didn’t think I’d be able to rummage through my deceased loved one’s things so soon without falling apart. Somehow Claire was holding herself together, though.

  Maybe it was because she felt she didn’t have a choice.

  “Are you going to help me or stand there staring?” she asked.

  I snapped out of my trance and released my grip on the chair. “Oh, sorry.” I shifted around to face the bookshelf she’d wanted me to look through.

  As it turned out, Danny was an organized individual even here in the shop. Upon first glance, it was clear the bookshelf was categorized in a certain way. Not by the author’s last name or any type of alphabetical order, but by genre or topic. Also, by age. The books on the top shelf seemed to be the oldest.

  “What type of book do you think we’re looking for?” I asked as I skimmed at the spines, trying to read each book’s name. There wasn’t anything worth being killed for jumping out at me.