Stake and Dust (Stake and Dust series, Book I) (9 page)

She was good. Never missed a beat when it
came to hunting. "It's a place where hunters aren't exactly
welcomed. They'd think we'd gone mental for just stepping foot
inside."

She gave him one arched eyebrow now. She had
many expressions and he looked forward to learning each and every
one of them. Arch eyebrow meant: 'Are you kidding?' and in a
sarcastic manner of speaking.

"Why hasn't the place been shut down then?"
she asked, but he knew what she really meant.
Why were the
preternatural beings left to live?

"They mind their own business," he told her.
"If they watch their Ps and Qs…" He let the rest of the sentence
trail off with a shrug.

She glanced at him with a tilt of her head.
"Out of curiosity, are you okay with the policy you just
spewed?"

"About not offing the preternatural beings
and asking questions later?"

"Yeah."

He could lie and say he was a bad-arse hunter
out to kill all beings not considered human. Too many of the
hunters had that backwoods, narrow-minded view – where Otherworldly
beings were concerned anyway. He went with telling her the truth.
Their whole relationship couldn't be based on lies. "Not all
preternatural beings are bad news," he said. "Just like not all
humans are good upstanding individuals either. There's plenty of
them who should have been offed a long time ago, but human laws
prevent such vigilante pursuits." He held his breath waiting to see
if she'd blast him with righteous hunter bull crap.

"You sound like my brother, Derek."

Not exactly the answer he thought she'd give
him. "Is that a good or a bad thing?" he asked upon reaching their
destination.

"I think highly of my brother," she said and
pushed opened the door to Bygones, and entered.

His lips curved as he followed her inside. He
really liked this hunter.

The interior of the place held an old world
feel to it with sconces on the walls and the overhead lights were
faux candle-lit chandeliers. Of course all fixtures were electric
and not the flickering lights of a real flame.

The scent of coffee hit his nostrils first.
Not a surprise. Preternatural beings liked their coffee as much as
the humans did. An espresso was one of the favorite drinks among
the werewolves. They tended to drink large quantities of the stuff
as if amped up on caffeine would make their overly charged persona
even better. He'd known more than a few werewolves. Truly, they
should avoid the stuff.

His gaze landed on a werewolf seated in one
of the corner booths. He sported sideburns and long hair. He
reminded him of someone, but couldn't quite put his finger on who.
The werewolf eyed Cassandra with curiosity before his gaze landed
on Tremayne. One thick eyebrow rose as if he realized Tremayne
wasn't human. The werewolf sat back in his seat and folded his
beefy arms across his chest.

Tremayne ignored him for now. The guy looked
like he wanted to watch the show, not join in. He turned his
attention toward the jukebox against the far wall. One of the Fae
stood there, looking over the selections offered, and a werejaguar
hovered nearby as if to help him choose the best song. The place
had yet to form a crowd, but the three customers present could make
things difficult if they chose.

He would bet the guy manning the bar was a
lower level demon with the way his glamour slipped in and out,
revealing glowing red eyes. His nervous response most likely
initiated because he recognized Cassandra as a hunter, and the
demons weren't overly fond of vampires either. The demon's gaze
shifted from Cassandra then to him in confusion.
Yeah boyo,
you're truly seeing this.
He was sure there was a bad joke in
there somewhere.
A vampire and a hunter enter a bar…
Only he
didn't know the punch line.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions,"
Cassandra said upon reaching the bar, not wasting any time on
pleasantries.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" the demon
asked with suspicion.

"We're looking for a Lamia who may be
fraternizing with a vampire."

"What's it to you, hunter?" the demon
spat.

"We just want to chat with them," she told
him.

The demon chuckled without mirth. "Sure, and
I bet you're going to ask them to join you in a cup of coffee."

Cassandra's lips curved. "Missing humans are
bad for all preternatural beings…" She let the statement hang there
for a few extra seconds to bring home her point. The demon pursed
his lips and shifted his weight to one foot then to the other as he
eyed her.

"We suspect this couple is doing the
kidnapping," she continued, "but if you want to harbor the
fugitives then we'll have to hold you responsible as well." Her
smile broadened at the prospect.

The demon glanced at Tremayne. "You okay with
this?"

"I am. The
Guards of Judgment
would
agree, too." He dropped the official Otherworldly law-enforcers'
name, hoping to sway the demon to cooperate. It seemed to do the
trick even though the demon put up a front of defiance with a few
choice words.

"Not sure what the Lamia's name is," he said,
"but she hangs out with one of the Draugr vamps. I think his name
is Gunthorn."

"You wouldn't happen to know where Gunthorn
lives, do you?" Tremayne asked.

The demon shook his head, but then his eyes
lit up. "I believe I heard him mention to one of the girls he tried
to pick up that he owned a houseboat. Personally, I was glad she
didn’t go with him. Human girl, probably a runaway. They seem to
always want to flirt with danger. They wander inside Bygones
looking for it, if you know what I mean."

"I'm sure," Tremayne said as he placed a hand
over Cassandra's. For some reason the demon was bating them and he
didn’t want her pursuing it. They were here for one reason and one
reason only. Cassandra glanced his way with annoyance, but once he
made eye contact with her, she seemed to catch on and remained
focused on the objective.

She turned back to the demon. "It would make
sense if Gunthorn hooked up with a Lamia that he'd have a place
close to the water," Cassandra said.

"The Lamia would need to rejuvenate often,"
Tremayne added. "Only seawater would do the trick." He glanced to
the side where the werejaguar had decided to take up residence at
the far end of the bar. He then noticed the Fae took interest in
the opposite end. "We should go," he murmured in a low tone to
Cassandra, who seemed to catch the same vibe. Her hand slid to her
weapon hidden in the pocket of her jacket, but didn't draw it,
which proved a smart move.

"Thank you for your cooperation," she told
the demon.

"Sure. Whatever," he said and turned away
from them.

Tremayne and Cassandra backed away from the
bar, but only managed to get halfway toward the front door when the
Fae flitted over to them, but Cassandra had her dagger in hand
before the Fae could make a move against them. "Don't even blink,
or you'll feel the sting," she warned. Her blade glinted with
lethal intent.

The Fae lifted his hands in mock surrender as
he took a step back.

Tremayne opened the door and let Cassandra
exit first, while he kept vigil. Any sudden movement from anyone
and he'd take them down.

The scent of sea and salt never smelled so
heavenly as he let the door close behind him, shutting out the
stale coffee and heated tension, but it didn't mean they were safe.
A second later confirmed his suspicions.

"You're either stupid or brave, but I can't
tell which."

They both turned toward the voice in unison.
The werewolf, who had been seated in the pub when they first
arrived, now leaned against the establishment's façade in a
nonchalant manner, casually smoking a cigar. With his smoke between
his lips, he realized why the werewolf had reminded him of someone.
He looked like a young Hugh Jackman as Wolverine. Maybe it was the
look the werewolf was going for or perhaps Hugh knew this werewolf
personally and had fashioned his look from him.

Cassandra didn't lower her weapon. "Do you
have something to say?" she asked.

The Hugh-lookalike puffed on his cigar then
gave her a quick nod. "If you're looking for the Lamia and her vamp
lover, their boat makes its home in slot 53. But the duo's been
bragging about how they enjoy living it up at Eternal Bliss. If you
asked me, they seemed too eager to drop the pub's name." The
werewolf met Tremayne's gaze and held it with meaning.

Cassandra peered at him too. "You did tell me
the vamp was expected to show at your place. Maybe he'll bring his
girlfriend the next time he visits."

At first he didn't know what she was talking
about, but then he remembered the real Gerard Green had texted her,
stating the vamp was going to be at Eternal Bliss. He'd been killed
in the alleyway behind his pub because of this knowledge, or
perhaps it had been all a set up. Green's death could have been
part of the plan all along.

"We could head back to Eternal Bliss now and
see if we spot anyone on the prowl," Tremayne said, and then
glanced to where the werewolf had been standing, but he had already
disappeared into the night. Probably a wise choice on his part.

Realizing they were relatively safe now,
Cassandra sheathed her dagger. "Let's head over to slip 53 first
before we head back to the pub. We could scope out their cozy
little place. See if anyone is at home."

"Right behind you." God, he hoped no one was
there. Both beings were lethal and he didn't fancy being in close
quarters with either one of the preternatural beings when Cassandra
was with him. Not that he doubted her capabilities, but he didn't
want to expose his secret either. A fight would surely reveal he
was not a
human
hunter.

They strode over to the wharf with minimal
small talk. She was all business tonight dressed in her cargo
pants, T-shirt, jacket and boots. He wondered where she hid all her
weapons. He knew without her flashing them in his face, she had
more than one hidden on her person.

"I see it," she said and strode ahead of him
toward the slot. The boat was actually a small yacht, a cabin
cruiser no more than 13.7 meters in length. The name on the side,
printed in dark blue script, spelled
La Belle Dame
. All that
was missing was
Sans Merci
to quote the title of Keats'
ballad regarding a Lamia. The name of the yacht definitely reminded
him of Lorelei's sense of humor.

Cassandra palmed her gun, a model he didn't
recognize, but he would bet it held bullets meant to eliminate
preternatural beings. He didn't show up empty handed either. He had
a dagger, which he gripped in his hand also.

The water lapped against the haul and the
scent of seawater hit his nostrils, but no other sounds or scents
overwhelmed his senses, indicating no one would be there to greet
them as they stepped aboard.

The cruiser proved spacious with a galley,
small dining area, and a cabin in the rear of the cockpit. The room
sported a double bed and it appeared well slept in or well used
with the sheets rumpled in a disarray of dark blue silk.

"No one's here," he spoke the obvious.

Cassandra stashed her weapon in the side
pocket of her pants, making him curious to know what other
handy-dandy weaponry rested in the other pockets, and at the same
time, he hoped he'd never ended up on the receiving end to find
out.

"What exactly are we looking for?" he asked
her.

"I don't know, but we'll know when we find
it."

Not much of a plan, he thought, but it didn't
stop him from following her lead to snoop through the drawers. He'd
just opened the third one, of a built in dresser situated beside
the bed, when a noise pricked his ears. He waved to Cassandra and
placed a finger over his lips. They weren't alone.

She halted her search and like magic a dagger
appeared in her hand.

Hiding proved a problem and the bedroom
didn't offer a back exit. It appeared fighting there way out would
be their only option. He palmed his weapon once more.

Chapter Thirteen

Cassandra glanced at her surroundings and
cursed softly. Of course there was no way out, and coming face to
face with the enemy, on their turf, didn't strike her as the best
strategy.

Since there had been no conversation, she'd
bet they were dealing with only one preternatural being. They
needed to get the jump on this guy...or gal, depending who had
arrived home.

Her gaze landed on the door to the bathroom.
She scrambled over the bed and grabbed Tremayne's arm as she
dragged him toward their designated hideout.

Once inside, she slid the door closed and not
a second too soon. Her ears picked up someone entering the room
they'd just vacated. The bathroom proved cramp for one person, even
worse when there were two, and especially when one of the occupants
happened to be a man with broad shoulders. They stood very close,
her hips and chest were getting to know him really well.

She tilted her chin and met his gaze. She'd
swear his eyes were a shade darker than she remembered them to be,
but the light was minimal from the door being cracked open just a
tad. She should glance away, but where could she rest her gaze when
he filled her line of vision?

She loved the shape of his mouth, and the man
knew how to kiss and she could imagine other things he could do
with that mouth. Rugged jaw with just a hint of a five o'clock
shadow met her eyes next. Glancing lower, she stared at broad
shoulders. She wondered if he sported hair on his chest or if he
was one of those guys who waxed. Was it hot in here?
And
,
did he have to smell so damn delicious. Was that aftershave or was
it just his scent…earthy and alluring?

She shook her head to clear her muddled
thoughts. There stood a good chance they would have to fight their
way out of this situation. She didn't have time to fantasize about
her partner and the way he felt flushed against her. She and
Tremayne would make a nice welcome home prize, if the Lamia or the
vamp happened to open the bathroom door. She'd like it better if
she weren't all starry-eyed and breathless when she met the enemy
face to face.