“I’m blowing this popsicle stand.” She grabbed her purse from the hallway bench as she made a beeline for the door.
“You didn’t eat your breakfast,” Connie hollered after her.
Ava waved her hand in dismissal. “I’ll manage,” she called back, and before Mal could say anything more, she was out the door.
Chapter Four
The sky was slightly overcast as Ava pulled her Impala up to the curb of The Third Eye shop. Chester wasn’t a large town by any means, but if there was one thing the town embraced, it was spooky things. The Third Eye focused as the town’s central hub for all things occult and metaphysical.
In the beginning, she’d taken the job at the shop as an after school excuse to avoid going home, where she usually found Aunt Becky and Mal arguing, or worse—Mal had left again. Being a descendant of Aleister Crowley, one of the most famous occultists in history, meant the occult was literally in her blood, but despite her family’s advantageous break from their heritage, Ava clung to it.
At the shop, she could explore the dark caverns of her heart’s desires, close enough to the unique and magical that she might soak up some extraneous, otherworldly ability. She’d been much more emotive then. The memory made her shudder.
When she looked up after alighting the car, her heart sank for the second time in an hour.
There, Cas stood in the gray light of morning, leaning languidly against the door of The Third Eye, a coffee in one hand and a paper bag in the other. He held out the bag with a soft smile on his face, his blond hair casually blowing in the breeze, like some catalog model.
Ava forced herself between the alcove and the sexy vampire blocking her way.
Her shoulder forcibly bumped into his, causing his coffee to splosh on the ground.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than to pop up like this?” She could feel him shift his stance against the doorframe, making way for her as she opened the door.
“I brought you breakfast.” He followed her into the shop and she let out a breath of aggravation.
“Perhaps in your day stalking people was romantic, but nowadays we call that creepy.”’ She turned on the overhead light switches and dropped her purse behind the counter.
Cassius pulled the Danish out and wafted the air toward her. “I know you didn’t eat this morning, and I know how you get if you don’t have at least twelve hundred calories of sugar in your system before noon.”
The way he smiled, behind the cherry-filled Danish, was very tempting. Until the cherry filling reminded her of blood, and the blood reminded her of fangs, and the fangs reminded her of tongues on flesh as they lapped up blood. She turned away in earnest.
“I think I’ve lost my appetite just now.”
Cassius frowned haughtily. “Very well then.” He offered her the cup of coffee. “Will you at least drink the coffee?” he asked.
The scent of a strong French roast was difficult to resist. Plus, she’d had to surrender her coffee just so she could escape the morning inquisition. She turned to face him.
“If I take the coffee, will you leave?” She tried to stare him down.
“Yes.” His answer was solid and she believed him.
She grabbed the coffee out of his hands with annoyance and took a sip. It was perfectly mixed, with just the right amount of cream. He even knew how she liked her coffee. If only he wasn’t the walking undead.
Chapter Five
The bell on the door jingled, startling Ava out of her mindless phone scrolling. She looked up at the clock, which read 2:45. She still had an hour and fifteen minutes left before her shift was over. She hurriedly shoved her phone into her back pocket.
“Anything I can help you find, just give me a holler,” she piped up.
When a familiar set of brown eyes and messy brown hair came into sight, she twisted her mouth in annoyance.
“Oh, it’s just the prodigal son.” She extended her arms to either side in a mock welcome.
Mal leaned on the counter with his arms crossed. He’d managed to shave, and the lack of facial hair made him look younger than his thirty-six years.
“Got a tip from a source; the Boracellis are going to be at Shades tonight. Likely scouting the area. Knowing them, they will stop for a bite or two.” His dark brown eyes danced with the promise that came with his stake.
“You sure don’t waste your time, do you?” she answered as the bell jingled again. She followed the new patron with her eyes as Mal continued on.
“I want you to come with me.” He flashed a mischievous smile.
Ava gave him an exaggerated look. “You want me to come as bait,” she stated plainly.
“The Boracellis are one of the oldest covens in the northeast. If we can get a hold of one of them, ask some questions...” His eyes were pleading.
“Do I get to kill any vamps?” She knew it sounded awful; especially out loud. But she liked killing vamps. It made her feel in control. She wasn’t oblivious; she knew there was something broken inside of her—because no sane person liked to kill, even if the target was a monster.
“If we’re lucky, yes. You’ll get to quench your thirst for blood.” Mal smiled casually, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Mal had kept his bloody side gig a secret from her until after the night of the party. If he had been upfront with her, perhaps... Perhaps, she would never have walked into a nest of vampires. Perhaps, she would have questioned Ross a bit more.
It was true that, despite how things had transpired, Cassius had done as he’d promised. He had saved her. But his rescue had come with an enormous consequence, and quite possibly the only useful consequence.
Cassius had marked her, which meant—in vampire terms—she was tethered to him. He would either have to claim her and make her a full vamp or he would have to kill her in order to avoid someone else challenging his claim on her.
They’d avoided both options for the past seven years, as Mal continued to search for their parents’ killers and a way to break the mark. They’d found nothing thus far and Ava worried their time was running out. In all their research, Ava knew that marked humans very rarely made it as long as she had without being turned or consumed with the blood lust. Seven years was nothing to an immortal and, if Mal’s stories from his trips were true, she was well past the point humans usually turned.
When Ava walked into a nest or a bar filled with vamps now, they sensed her mark, and she sensed them. They wouldn’t kill her outright, not with Cassius’s mark on her, but it would entice them like moths to a flame, tempting them to take her for their own use.
Mal would be waiting in the shadows, ready to leap out and do what he did best—slay.
Cassius didn’t like the exploitation of his favor but unless he made a move to kill her or turn her, Ava knew he had no real way of stopping her.
Not that she cared what he thought. It’s not like they were together or anything. Their relationship was purely circumstantial.
She smiled at her brother. “What time?” Ava couldn’t help the excitement brewing in her own voice.
Chapter Six
Ava checked herself over in the mirror. Usually, she preferred her dark wash jeans, a well-worn band t-shirt, and her defining statement—her leather studded jacket. She hated dresses, but Mal insisted she should wear the red and black cocktail dress, which fit in with the dress code at Shades. She’d normally hide her stake in the cuff of her studded leather boots and another nestled safely in her bra. Although a dress provided more freedom in some ways, hiding her second stake was a bit more difficult. The garter on her thigh held it tight against her leg but it wasn’t her favorite accessory.