Burn Falls Page 9

“No, like really strong.”

  “Because I eat my spinach,” I joked.

  “Turn me.”

  I stopped. “What?”

  “Do it.”

  “No.”

  “Please?”

  “No. What would you say to your family?”

  Martin smirked. “I bet you’re a beast in the bedroom, huh? Marcy would be begging for my di—”

  Just as he spoke, I sniffed the air and smelled what resembled his mother’s killer. It wasn’t the exact smell, but it was close. I covered my hand over his mouth and looked around while I said to Martin, “Shut up.” He mumbled against my hand, but I was too busy focusing on the scent. “We gotta go. Hold on.”

  I swept him up in my arms like a baby and then dashed toward the smell. It was coming from an ally a block over. When we rounded the corner, I saw a group of men kicking the shit out of a guy. I placed Martin down and had him lean against the wall.

  “Stay here.” He was still within eyesight, but there was no way I was going to approach those assholes while carrying a man, let alone a lieutenant with Seattle PD. He nodded and closed his eyes.

  “Hey!” I barked as I walked toward the mob.

  They didn’t respond or stop kicking the guy.

  “Hey!” I shouted again, this time moving within a few feet of them.

  They still didn’t stop.

  I took one of them by the collar of their shirt and flung him back, causing him to skid across the concrete. It was nothing compared to what I could do, but I was trying to tame my rage.

  “I’m talking to you,” I snapped.

  The rest of the five men stopped kicking the poor bastard on the ground and turned to look at me. I zeroed in on the one who matched the scent. He smelled of blue cheese and Cardamom. It wasn’t blue cheese and nicotine I was smelling, but I knew this kid was related to the guy who killed Martin’s mother.

  “You looking for trouble, dude?” the one I wanted asked, finally turning to face me. My nostrils flared as I zeroed in on his busted lip that was bleeding. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go before I needed to feed again. It had been several hours, and this wasn’t planned. This punk was much younger than someone who could have killed Martin’s mother, but I was certain he was related to the man.

  “I’m looking for you.”

  The kid stepped closer, trying to go nose to nose with me, but I was at least six inches taller than him. “Do I know you?” he spat and ran his gaze from my head to my feet and back up.

  I chuckled because I knew he was trying to be tough in front of his friends. He had nothing on me.

  “What’s funny, bitch?”

  I grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the brick wall. “That you think you’re a man. You ain’t shit,” I growled.

  His friends behind me all moved back a few steps as they finally registered I wasn’t scared, nor was I fucking around. Their hearts started to beat rapidly in their chest, and I swore I heard and smelled one of them piss himself.

  “Now,” I started, looking into Cardamom’s brown eyes. “I’m going to set you down, and then we’re going to talk like adults. Do you understand me?”

  He struggled to nod but managed a little head tilt, and I set him down. “What do you want from me?” he choked out, rubbing his throat.

  I stared into his eyes again, this time making them pulse as he looked up at me. After I was done with these kids, none of them would remember this night. “I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you’re to give me the true answers. Do you understand?”

  Cardamom nodded.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Eugene.”

  “Well, Eugene, what did this kid do to deserve you six assholes kicking him while he’s down?” I pointed at the guy in the fetal position next to me.

  “He owes me money.”

  “For?”

  “Drugs.”

  “You sell drugs?”

  He nodded. “Yes, and he’s one of my sellers. Refused to give me my cut.”

  “Does your father sell drugs too?”

  He shook his head.

  “Is he a criminal like you?”

  He nodded.

  “How?”

  “Armed robbery.”

  And there was the answer I was looking for the entire time. “Where is he now?”

  “Home, I think.”

  “What’s the address?”

  He rattled it off while I set it to my memory.

  “Thank you. Now,” I pulsed my eyes again, “you will not remember I was here, and you will never sell or do drugs again. You will go to one of the community colleges Seattle has to offer, and then you will get a real job. You will not follow in your father’s footsteps. Do you understand?”

  He nodded, and I let him go. Then I turned and moved to each kid, compelling them all to forget and do better with their lives before I moved back to Martin and called for a cab.

  The yellow taxi pulled up to the address thirty minutes later. Martin wasn’t as drunk as before, but he wasn’t sober either.

  “What we doing here?” he slurred as we stood on the sidewalk after the cab pulled away.

  “Hopefully getting you closure.” I bit into my wrist, drawing blood. “Drink.”

  Martin’s green eyes widened. “What?”

  “I thought you wanted me to turn you?”

  His heart started to beat faster in his chest.

  I chuckled. “Relax. I’m joking with you. Drink my blood so you can sober up and then we can find the man who killed your mother before the fucking sun comes up and I burn to death.”

  “Always so dramatic,” he mumbled but didn’t hesitate before latching onto my wrist. My blood had healing powers for humans, and with just a little I knew it would sober Martin. After a few seconds, I stopped him and licked my wrist to close the open holes.

  “This is really going to sober me up?”

  “Will also cure all your ailments.”

  “My ailments?”

  “Like your back you’re always bitching about.”

  “Shut up. Just because you can’t age—”

  “See, you aren’t slurring anymore. Let’s go.”

  He groaned and followed me up the sidewalk until we were in front of a chain-link fence. “You just going to knock on the door?”

  I looked over at Martin. “Yes, I have to be invited in, remember?”

  “Right.”

  The blue glow of a television was casting through the bay-style window, and I knew someone was home. I knocked and waited then knocked again. No answer. I knocked harder. Then I heard the cocking of a gun.

  “He’s armed,” I whispered.

  “I left my piece locked up at work.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because we were going out drinking.”

  I knocked again.

  “Can I help you?” I heard a man ask through the door.

  “Seattle PD. We need to speak with you about your son, Eugene.”

  Martin huffed next to me, and I shrugged. It was partially true.

  The door swung open, and before us stood a man with a gun at his side in his boxers and a wife beater tank top. “What about my son?”

  “Are you home alone?”

  “Yes.”

  Perfect.

  “Do you have a permit for that firearm?” Martin asked.

  I turned my gaze to him, and he shrugged. It wasn’t the point of our visit.

  “I do,” the man stated. “Let me see your badge.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the threshold of the door, the gun on his bicep, and stared directly into my eyes.

  “My name’s Draven. Invite me in,” I compelled before Martin rummaged into his pocket fo
r his badge.

  “Draven, come in.”

  Martin and I entered, and since this guy was still under my compulsion spell, I stuck with my questioning as we all stayed near the front door. “Do you remember where you were on the night of September 14, 1988?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever killed a person before?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many?”

  “Two.”

  “Why?”

  “Got in my way.”

  “Who were they?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Men or women?”

  “Both.”

  Before I thought better of it, my mouth attached to the guy’s neck and I sucked, needing to hurry this along and to see if I was correct. The moment his aromatic blood hit my tongue, I knew: blue cheese and nicotine.

  “You … You bit me.”

  I whipped my mouth. “And you killed my buddy’s mother in 1988.”

  The guy’s brown gaze flicked to Martin’s as Martin sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?” Martin asked.

  “Yes. The blood on the leather that’s in evidence is the same blood I just drank.”

  Martin moved and got in the guy’s face. “Why? What did she ever do to you?”

  He didn’t respond, so I grabbed him by his throat. “Answer him. Why did you kill his mother?”

  “She … She saw my face,” he replied hoarsely.

  “Kill him,” Martin ordered.

  The man started to struggle against my grasp, but I held on, not letting him break free—or breathe. “Are you sure?” I asked. I hadn’t killed anyone since the night I’d saved him from the gang that shot his partner.

  “Yes.”

  And because this was my best friend and he deserved peace, I agreed. “Go back to the station. Make every cop in the precinct know you’re there. Don’t leave until the sun comes up.”

  “Draven—”

  “You’re already a part of this. I don’t want you involved any more than you are.”

  Martin turned to the door, and before he opened it, he asked, “So this is goodbye?”

  I turned to my friend and shook my head. “No, it’s not goodbye. Goodbyes are forever, and you won’t get rid of me that easily.”

  The door opened, and I loosened the grip on the guy’s neck, waiting for Martin to leave so I could do what I needed to do. Instead, Martin spoke.

  “Drave?”

  I turned my head toward him again.

  “Thank you.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Present Day – Burn Falls

  New Year’s Eve.

  I once heard that New Year’s Eve was a time to pause and reflect on the previous year, and to look ahead to the coming one. I just never thought my reflection of the previous year would be a tragic one.

  Uncle Ted and a few of my mother’s friends came over for dinner, and afterward, Valencia, Betha, Alastair, and I decided to take a taxi to the one and only bar in Burn Falls to ring in the new year. We all needed a break and to numb our pain with music and alcohol.

  “I’m sorry you’re missing your opportunity with Chance tonight,” I said to V as we sat at a high top table. Alastair and Betha were getting our drinks from the bar.

  “I already told you that you’re more important. If it’s meant to be, then the next time we go for Margarita Friday something will happen.”

  I took a deep breath, not sure how I could tell her that I was moving back to Burn Falls. Even though I’d told my mother that I needed to think about it, there really wasn’t anything to think about. OBB was my father’s pride and joy, and there was no way I’d let it turn to shit or be sold to someone else.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay.” She leaned closer and rested her crossed arms on the table.

  “My mom wants me to take over OBB.”

  Valencia’s azure eyes widened. “Really?”

  “My father always told me that I would get it one day and well …” I paused and took another deep breath. “My mother can’t run it, and since he always trusted me, she just wants to sign the papers over and be done with it.”

  “Be done with your father’s legacy?”

  “It’s not like that. It will still be in the family and carry the family name, but she doesn’t want to deal with running a business and everything else.”

  “I understand. So what does that mean?”

  I smiled tightly. “It means I’m moving back here.”

  “When?” Valencia asked with a frown.

  “Well, I was thinking I’d return to Seattle on Sunday as planned and then give my two-week notice at the bank on Monday.” She was silent for a moment, and before she could say a word, I saw Betha and Alastair approaching. “Al and Beth don’t know. Let’s just have a fun night, and we can talk about it more tomorrow.”

  V nodded as my brother and sister placed our margaritas in front of us. I hadn’t meant to tell V the news just yet, but given she was excited about the future, I had to tell her that it was changing.

  Everything was changing.

  Both Alastair and Betha saw some old friends from high school, so they left V and me to ourselves while they hung out with their friends. I didn’t mind. We were laughing, drinking, and having a great time just like we always had when we were together. As I checked my phone to see what time it was, I heard Valencia suck in a breath.

  “Hotties at twelve o’clock.”

  I glanced the way she was looking and sucked in my own breath. I hadn’t seen Draven for a few days, and yet, it seemed longer. He wasn’t in his white doctor coat and dress shirt and tie. He had on a black sweater that hugged every muscle known to man. No coat or jacket to shield him from the cold weather outside. Just—him.

  “Oh my God. That’s my father’s … I mean, was my father’s doctor.”

  “The one you were telling me about when I first got here?”

  I nodded as I watched Draven and his friend Athan walk up to the bar and catch the bartender’s gaze.

  “Which guy?”

  “The one in the black sweater.”

  “Who’s the other hottie?” V asked.

  “His friend Athan.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he had a hot friend?”

  My head snapped toward her, and I furrowed my brow. “Because I barely met the guy, and it was Draven I eye fucked every moment I could.”

  “You can keep Draven. Athan is more my hunk of meat.”

  I chuckled. “There’s no keeping anyone. I haven’t even heard from him since the night before you came here.”

  “I’m sure it’s because he knows you’re dealing with a lot and wanted to give you time to be with your family.”

  She was probably right, or I’d gotten all the signals wrong, but even though I was drunk the night he talked to me at the bar, I faintly remembered something about bending me over the barstool and having his way with me. Or I dreamed it, which I probably did because dreams like to fuck with your mind and reveal your deepest and darkest fears and secrets.

  As if Draven knew we were speaking about him, he turned his head and looked directly at me in the crowded bar and smirked. I could no longer hear the music playing, the people chatting, or the clinking of bottles behind the bar. It was him and me in my world of darkness, and he was like my shining star.

  I smiled back, and V muttered, “Oh shit.”

  Before I knew it, Draven and Athan were walking toward us. “Calla.” Just my name on his lips again was enough to get me to squirm in my seat.

  How much tequila was in these margaritas?

  I smiled wider. “Dr. Young.”

  He chuckled. “Draven.”

  My cheeks turned hot. “Right. Draven.”

  “It’s good to see you again,
Calla.” Athan grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it, just like he had the night we met. I think I even heard Draven growl. “And who is this foxy lady?”

  I looked over at V. “Valencia, this is Draven and Athan. Draven and Athan, Valencia.”

  They all shook hands, and when Athan greeted her, he not only kissed the back of her hand, but his lips lingered, and he stared into her eyes until Draven cleared his throat.

  “How’s your family doing, Calla?”

  I smiled tightly. “Hanging in there. Thank you for asking.”

  “Do you two want to sit with us?” V asked. After saying they would, Athan sat next to her, and Draven next to me.

  “Do you live in Burn Falls, Valencia?” Athan asked.

  “No. I’m from Seattle.”

  “Seattle?” Draven asked.

  “Yeah. So is Calla. I mean, before she decided to stay after all that happened with her father,” she responded. I hadn’t even told my mother that I was staying, and here V was telling Draven and Athan what my future held.

  Draven turned his attention to me. “I didn’t know you were from Seattle.”

  “Moved there for college and never moved back home,” I clarified.

  “But you are now?” he asked.

  I took a deep breath—I did that every time I had to say I was taking over OBB. It wasn’t because I was going to take on the responsibility. It was because I’d always thought that if my father were telling the truth, it wouldn’t be until after he’d retired. “I haven’t given my mother an answer yet, but yes, she’s giving me the distillery, and I’m moving back.”

  “This is my lucky day,” Athan exclaimed.

  “Your lucky day?” V asked.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Now I have an in with the owner of the best whiskey this side of Ireland.”

  Draven reached up and slapped him on the back of the head. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Ow! What was that for?”

  “Do you think Calla seems happy about this?” Draven asked.

  “It’s fine,” I stated. “I just wasn’t prepared for all of this. When I go back to Seattle on Sunday, I’ll need to start packing and give my notice at work on Monday too.”

  “I’m actually heading to Seattle in a week.”