8. Blane

CHAPTER 8

Blane

A murder? Was that all? For a moment, I thought Wren was going to come up with something dramatic like, say, the unexpected transformation of a werewolf. Which weren’t supposed to exist, of course. Damn my Great-Uncle Tiberius and his little experiments. The whole pack of werewolves had escaped centuries ago, and no one knew where they’d ended up. There were rumours, but several years ago when Joseph and I got curious after a slew of sightings and took a vacation to the Carpathian Mountains, the only thing we’d found was a very lost husky.

I had to be grateful to the dog, though. That grouchy mutt was the reason I’d met my dear Nevaeh.

“A murder? Well, that should be straightforward to rectify. All you need to do is tell the police everything you know, and they’ll take it from there. If you need an introduction to a detective in the LVMPD, I’m sure?—”

“No! No, no, no, no, no. Are you crazy? No cops.”

Wren eyed up the door, but thankfully, I spotted Joseph loitering outside. If he rugby-tackled her in the walkway, that would be awkward, but not as awkward as having to chase her in a truck with a faulty muffler.

“What’s wrong with the police?”

I thought mortals were fond of law enforcement? Cops were by far the most popular type of stripper, and humans even had a hotline to call them. Actual cops, not stripper cops. Although that could be an interesting idea for a new business venture. Press one for a cop, two for a fireman, three for a cowboy…

“Because Laurent owns cops. Caria went to meet a detective from the LVMPD, and she never came back. Now Laurent has her.”

“Maybe he spotted her on the trip over there?”

Wren was already shaking her head, and her curtain of glossy chestnut hair rippled. “You don’t understand. He made her call me. She was supposed to lie, to say everything was fine and I should come over to her place for coffee, but at the last moment, she told me the cop called Laurent and he picked her up. She screamed at me to run, and then I think…I think he hit her. The line went dead.”

“So you ran?”

“What else was I meant to do? I just packed a bag and took the first bus out of town. I’m so s-s-scared, and I’m terrified for Caria. What if he kills her too?”

Kayden put a comforting arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Nah, he can’t kill her, not when he might need her to contact you again. As long as you’re in the wind, he has to keep her alive.”

“Do you really think so?”

“If I was a sicko trying to avoid prison, that’s what I’d do.”

Kayden’s theory did make a certain amount of sense. If Caria was still breathing, then Laurent could use her as bait or a bargaining chip. If her soul went to Plane Four, Wren would have no incentive to stay in line. She could take out a full-page ad in the Las Vegas Review-Journal with all the juicy details of Laurent’s crimes.

“So what’s the long-term plan?” I asked. “You’re going to live in a motel in Utah?”

Granted, I wasn’t well acquainted with Wren’s finances, but she’d never struck me as the type of woman who had spare cash lying around. Although I paid my staff above-average wages, rent wasn’t cheap in Vegas, and Wren didn’t have anyone to split living expenses with. Perhaps once she’d evaluated, she’d move in with her brother? Or head to another city in another state? I’d cover the costs for a few months to help out because that was what a responsible human would do, but she’d have to find a better place to hole up than the Rest-E-Z Motel. Was there a Four Seasons nearby?

“How can I stay here? Caria’s still with that monster, and I have to find a way to get her out of there.”

Quite understandably, Kayden didn’t like the idea of Wren running into the arms of the Grim Reaper. Who was mostly a myth, by the way. I say “mostly” because rumour said that one of the Electi had made a particularly poor choice when it came to selecting an outfit on All Hallows’ Eve several centuries ago and accidentally turned into a bit of a legend.

“You’re going back to Vegas?” Kayden said, shaking his head. “No way.”

“Caria’s my best friend. I can’t just abandon her.”

Wren thrust her phone at me, a photo filling the screen. She and a pretty blonde were grinning for the camera, arms around each other’s shoulders .

“If Laurent’s as dangerous as you think he is, then you’ll both wind up dead.” Now Kayden was as pale as his sister. “You have to stay here, at least until I can find someone to take over my lease.”

“You can’t leave Mesquite. I mean, you love your job.”

“I also love my sister.”

His loyalty was touching. I’d stayed in a whole different plane to get some space from my family, but then again, they were immortal, so what did I know? Although I did miss my little sis. Aurelia was quiet and easygoing, and she spent most of her time in the library. My older sibling, on the other hand…

“You really should consider telling the police,” I suggested. “Vee Pelletier is friendly with several trustworthy?—”

“No. A thousand times, no. Cops stick together. You know who they protect and serve? Each other.”

Not all cops, but Wren seemed to possess the same stubborn streak that Nevaeh used to have. I had as much hope of changing her mind as I did of convincing my father to let me hold a drag race in Plane Two. Tyre marks across one of his beloved golf courses? The horror . Which left only one solution. Joseph and I would have to find Laurent and deal with him ourselves.

“Where does Laurent live?” I asked. “Do you know?”

“Caria told me he has properties all over the country. A huge home on the outskirts of Las Vegas, an apartment in New York, a beach house in California, a villa in Florida, a yacht, even a ranch somewhere.” Wren hiccuped a sob. “She said he was so charming at first, and then he gradually got more commanding. But not so much that she was scared, you know? She liked a man who knew what he wanted, but…but… ”

“How are you going to check those places?” Kayden asked her.

“I don’t freaking know!”

“I’ll take a look,” I offered. “I know people in Vegas.”

It wasn’t as if this would be my first rodeo—I’d accidentally gotten involved in a murder case earlier in the year—and detective work would give me a break from running my dens of sin. Plus death wouldn’t be an issue, not for me anyway. If Joseph helped, he’d have to remember to take care of his body. When we first came to Plane Five, he’d purloined a meat suit from a handsome-in-a-pretty-way drug addict on the cusp of an overdose, then broken the legs jumping down a flight of stairs because he didn’t realise humans were quite so fragile. As for me, my body and soul were fully integrated. I’d be just fine.

Wren looked at me with big blue eyes, and I regretted using my handkerchief to soak up blood earlier because I wanted to wipe her tears away.

“You will?” Wren asked, incredulous. “You’ll really look for her?”

“Why would you?” Kayden asked, sounding more than a little suspicious.

A fair question—no sane person would put themselves in harm’s way. But I wasn’t entirely a person, and there was some debate over whether I was sane as well. Should I try to explain that? No, of course not.

“Do you realise how difficult it is to find a good blackjack dealer in Vegas? The mediocre ones are a dime a dozen, but Wren is top tier.” That wasn’t even a lie. “Plus I prioritise my staff’s wellbeing, which includes taking care of them in their hour of need. Wren, do you have a place to stay? My apartment has three spare bedrooms.”

“Aw, hell no,” Kayden said. “You want to get into her panties? Wrong time, wrong place, asshole. ”

What? Why were humans so obsessed with sex? Granted, the act was a pleasurable way to spend a few hours, but it was so easy to find women willing to get naked with me that they held little allure. With Nevaeh, I’d been addicted to the spiritual connection as much as the physical one. And the fun. When we first met, I’d been covered in mud, carrying a skinny dog that wasn’t too fond of me, and she’d nearly died from laughing.

“No, of course not. If I wanted to commit carnal sins, there are plenty of women in Club Dead every night who’d be only too happy to oblige. Would you rather stay here, Wren?”

“I…I don’t know. I mean, I want to jump on an airplane and fly the hell out of the USA, but Caria’s in Las Vegas.”

“Well, seeing as I have security staff downstairs and door locks that work, you’d be safer in my apartment than in yours. Or we could find you a hotel room.” I glanced around, and ugh, there was mould on the ceiling. “A better hotel room. If you’d rather stay with a woman, I’m sure Vee Pelletier would oblige, but she’s dating a cop, so…”

Wren shuddered. “No cops.” Then to her brother, “I’d feel safer with someone I know.”

“Kayden, you need to watch your back too. If Laurent is serious about getting to Wren, he could use you as leverage in the same way he’s using Caria.”

Wren lost the little colour she had left. “Oh my gosh.”

“I’ll be okay,” Kayden said, but he didn’t sound convinced. Hardly surprising—he wasn’t a tough guy; he was a greenkeeper.

“Maybe keep a set of golf clubs around?” I suggested.

“You should go on your vacation,” Wren told him. “Kayden’s meant to be flying to Hawaii with his girlfriend the day after tomorrow.”

Another nail in Joseph’s heart. “That would solve the problem temporarily. Laurent’s unlikely to look for him there.”

“Go on vacation? Are you joking?” Kayden glared at me. “What about Wren?”

“I’ll keep her safe. You have my word on that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right. Just like that, you’ll keep her safe. What’s in it for you?”

“As I already said, Wren’s an excellent blackjack dealer.”

“You expect me to believe that? I’m not letting my sister put her life in the hands of a stranger.”

“A sensible approach. Thankfully, I’m not a stranger. I’ve known Wren for months.”

“Oh yeah? What’s her favourite flavour of potato chip?”

I nearly told him she preferred corn chips, based on the collection of snacks on her kitchen counter, but I bit my tongue. Wren might get curious about how I knew that, and I wasn’t planning to confess that I’d broken into her apartment. Well, not broken into—there was a key involved—but…

“We’ve never discussed potato chips.”

“Then you don’t?—”

“Can you two stop fighting?” Wren begged. “Please? Kayden, you saved for years to go on this trip, and didn’t you buy a ring for Sarah?”

Ouch. Those nails were going in with a sledgehammer now.

“Yes, but I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“It won’t, not if I stay with Mr. Blane. He said there’s security, and no one will be looking for me at his place.”

“I don’t know…”

“If you waste all the money you spent, I swear I’ll go right back to my apartment and stay there.”

That little flash of fire reminded me of my dear Nevaeh, and nobody ever won an argument against her. Kayden stood no chance.

His shoulders sagged. “Fine. But if you change your mind, call me and I’ll come right back.” He cut me a sideways glance. “Day or night, I’ll be there. You have to promise.”

Wren managed a shaky smile. “I promise.”