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A serious depletion of my already hemorrhaging bank account later, I was surprisingly calm—or maybe I was just bewitched. I was positive there was something otherworldly about Boone. His drawing could have been made while sitting in the flea market he sent me to. Everything looked a bit rougher than he portrayed it, but was still recognizable.
The more cynical voice in my head pointed out that there was no way he would have wasted time designing and building a display case unless he knew mine wouldn’t show up. But I didn’t think it was sabotage or anything like that. Maybe he had some sort of magic or something that let him pluck the thought from my mind about how I wanted the shop to look. That same ability could have told him that my order wasn’t going to work out. Truly though, I didn’t care.
As I approached the bakery from the opposite side of the street, I saw Boone standing in the alley talking to a short man in a green army jacket with a black hood hiding his face. Boone handed him something cupped in the palm of his hand and leaned in close as he spoke. I had never seen a drug deal in real life, but this looked pretty much the same as it did on TV. My feet slowed as I watched. The fall had been warm so far this year, definitely too warm for so many layers, making the guy in green look extra suspicious. My carpenter was like Breaking Bad.
I hustled down the block to the crosswalk then across the street. Staying as close to the building as I could, I crept up on the alley, listening for snippets of their conversation, knowing full well it was probably innocent. Questioning Boone would be an invasion of his privacy, but stumbling, through no fault of my own, into the truth was another. And as a concerned citizen I had a right to know if my contractor made meth on the side.
However, aside from sounds of cars passing by, the rustle of the leaves falling to the ground, and the usual city noise, I couldn’t hear a damn thing. I eased closer and closer to the edge of the building, then peeked around the corner. Damn it. Empty.
“Did you find it?” Boone asked, suddenly behind me, making me jump.
“What? Who me? I wasn’t looking for anything.”
His eyebrows tugged together. “Are you okay?”
“Yep,” I said, my voice higher than normal. “Great. Perfect. Never better. I wasn’t looking for anything.”
He peered around the corner. “You established that,” he said softly. “Did you hit your head?”
I forced a laugh. “Good one.” I had to relax. It wasn’t like he could hurt me…or could he? I still didn’t know what he was. “When I was on the other side of the street I thought I saw someone hanging around in the alley. Did you hear anything?”
He shook his head, still looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
And now he was lying. Very suspicious. “Just too much caffeine over lunch, I guess.”
His gaze flicked back to me. “Did you find the cabinets?” he repeated slowly.
“Oh. Right. Duh. Of course, that’s why I went. Sorry. Um, yeah, they’re ready to be picked up whenever you have time.”
He nodded with a vaguely worried expression. “You know if you need to go home early today, I can lock up for you.”
Hmmm. Trying to get rid of me. “I have way too much to do. I’ll probably be here half the night.” I glanced back toward the alley, trying to think of how to bring it up again.
Boone was already walking toward his truck.
“Good chat,” I called behind him.
Okay, so he probably wasn’t a drug dealer. My imagination always bordered paranoia. But it was legitimately possible that he was from the Abyss. And that posed its own problems. I was the only half vampire as far as any of us knew and Holden had warned me that some people might find me very interesting. Of course, he didn’t expand on what he meant by that. To me it said I should keep my mouth shut about what I was or some evil corporation would find me and use me for experiments.
Now meeting Boone the way I had felt entirely too convenient. I just happened to stumble into him exactly when I needed a carpenter? Then today he just happened to be ready to come to my rescue again? All my gratitude aside, no display case was worth my freedom. Or maybe I’d read one too many Liz Schulte books and watched too many movies.
I sighed, massaging my temple. I needed to be careful around Boone until I had a chance to talk to Holden. It was probably nothing and Holden would laugh at me—or, at the very least, shoot me the how-can-you-be-this-dumb-and-still-be-alive look that he’d perfected over the years. Yeah, maybe I’d talk to Olivia.
Boone returned, his truck full to bursting, and spent the rest of the day painting and installing things. I pretty much stuck to the kitchen, but I kept an eye on him while making phone calls and confirming the rest of my orders would arrive on time. The kitchen itself had no windows, so I left the side door propped open just in case there was another alleyway meeting. It was dark outside by the time Boone stuck his head in the room.
“I’m going to call it a night. I put one last coat of paint on everything. It should be dry by morning.”
“So I should go out there and touch everything?” I grinned, but it felt strained. I glanced at my watch. It was already past ten. All my overthinking washed away with the shock. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize how late it was. Get out of here. Did you even eat today?”
He smiled a little. “About as much as you did.” That didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t like I could go out and order a demon essence smoothie. “Have a good night, Maggie. Get some rest. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Do you like cupcakes?” I blurted.
He shrugged, but nodded at the same time. I grabbed one of my mango chiffon cupcakes from the refrigerator and handed it to him. “I need a taste tester.”
He eyed it for a moment. “Why what’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing. I just…I just want a second opinion. Menu-worthy or not?”
He took a bite. Happy surprise lit his face. “It’s good. I don’t really like fruit, but this is good. More than good actually. Tropical.” He licked a spot of whipped cream off his finger. He was definitely an attractive potential future kidnapper.
“Excellent! That’s exactly what I was going for.” My smile felt so huge I must’ve looked ridiculous, but I didn’t care. Knowing the cupcakes were good felt like a huge accomplishment. “I don’t know why I had it in my mind that they’d be terrible. It’s such a relief.”
“You didn’t try it?” He took another bite, cupping his free hand beneath his mouth to catch crumbs.
“No.” I shook my head and took a deep breath. “I’m diabetic. It’s pretty new for me. I’m still getting used to the no sugar thing.”
“And you decided to open a bakery?” He quirked one eyebrow.
“I like to live dangerously,” I said, packing him up a box to take home. “I’ll just end up throwing them away if I keep them.”
He laughed. “There’s a food kitchen at St. Michaels. And a homeless shelter not too far away. I’m sure they’d appreciate anything you want to give. How much longer are you staying? I could give you a ride home. It probably isn’t safe to walk alone at night.”
Right. Donating. I should have thought of that. “No, I’m fine. Thanks though. Have a good night.” He didn’t move toward the door and I didn’t know what else to do, so I hugged him softly—being careful not to squeeze too hard just in case he was purely human. “I really do appreciate all of this.”
He stared at me for so long that I had to suppress an urge to squirm.
“Did you need something else?” I asked.
He pushed his hair back from his face and glanced toward the front, mouth creased into a frown. “You might want to lock the door behind me.”
Chills spread over me as I followed his gaze, but I didn’t see anything. “Why?”
He continued to stare at the door like he was watching something, but if anything was out there I’d see it. My vision as a vampire was definitely better than a human’s. “Boone,” I said louder, touching his shoulder.<
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He jerked, but turned back to me like nothing happened. “It’s late, and you just never know what kind of people are out and about.”
“That’s comforting,” I said.
I followed him to the door, watched him drive away—and triple checked the lock behind him. Nothing was out there. Not that I had anything to be scared of anyway, I reminded myself for the millionth time. Nevertheless, I pulled all the shades down over the glass.
The first thing on the agenda for the evening—and it was the same every night—was to remove the evil contacts that had been torturing me all day. I breathed a sigh of relief as the burn ceased and I could finally relax. My thoughts drifted to Boone as I looked over the amazing amount of work he’d accomplished in a single day. He definitely didn’t seem human, but what did I know? I wasn’t like other people who could see auras or feel if someone was dark or light. All I could absolutely tell for certain was that he could occasionally read my mind and he didn’t want me to know. And I still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a little too prepared for all of this, swooping in for a rescue. Then the thing with the door freaked me out.
Even the way we met was off. That should have been my first warning about him. I’d been walking down the street not too far from my house and saw him leaning against his truck, drinking from a bottle of water. Yes, he was hot and that probably accounted for seventy percent of my decision to hire local—granted, impulsiveness wasn’t completely abnormal for me. But the fact was, I could have just ordered everything from Combs and King. I didn’t question the coincidence of meeting him at the time, but maybe I should have.
“The place is coming along.” Holden’s voice made my heart leap and my hand jerk, knocking a drying paintbrush to the floor, which was thankfully still covered. He stood near the locked front door, eyeing the lavender walls, his arms crossed over his chest, no indication of what he thought on his face.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
He stared a bit longer. “Charlie will love it,” he said, finally looking at me.
Great. The approval of a seven-year-old. “The elementary crowd is an important market for me.”
He nodded like that was probably true. Sarcasm was wasted on those without a sense of humor. “You’re not wearing the contacts.”
“I know. It’s my favorite time of day. I can just be me.”
Holden shook his head. “You have to get used to blending in.”
I looked at the floor to keep from rolling my eyes. “They itch and it’s late. No one’s coming here. Who’s going to see me?”
Holden grunted. “When did you last eat?”
“A while ago. Why?” But I knew full well why he asked—and ugh, leave it to him to notice. What was he? The eye-color police? If I fed regularly, my irises were black not red—still abnormal, but not as noticeable.
Holden read me well. It had been weeks since I last fed. As a half-vampire feeding was tricky. Regular vampires could go outside and brush up against any person, human or otherwise, and take little sips from their life force. And there lay my biggest problem. As a half vampire, half human, my vampire half was always fed. It leeched off of my human half—basically, making it a roided out asshole determined to ruin my life most of the time. I had to be careful picking up glasses, so that I didn’t crush them. I was mostly terrified to touch humans, afraid I would break them. Olivia and Holden said my strength would even out over time, but frankly, how did they know? I was the only one of my kind. Then again, it was Olivia, Holden’s wife, who stopped my transformation, making me such a unique creature of wonder—or freak of nature. She was also the one who figured out what I had to eat to keep from going completely insane.
Because everything is apparently about balance, she surmised that in order to level myself I had to feed on dark souls, the antithesis of life. Basically, I needed demons and other super dark creatures. That was all fine and dandy, but it wasn’t like I had a list of demons I could call when I needed a snack. In fact, since Olivia and Holden went up against Hell in a major way, the demons in the city had been kind of scarce.
“Maggie,” Holden said. “Are you listening?”
Of course not. What had we been talking about? Right, the contacts. “I’ll put them in before I go home. I just need a break.”
Holden headed toward the bench and tested its sturdiness. “This is nice work,” he said offhandedly. “You’re opening on Saturday?”
“If the ulcers don’t kill me first.” He barely cracked a smile.
The bench reminded me of Boone. I needed to talk to Holden about him, but another lecture sounded about as fun as pulling out my eyelashes. The problem was Holden was family. A really distant relation, but still family and because of that, he seemed to feel I was his responsibility since I became a vampire. I really did appreciate everything both he and Olivia did to ease my transition, but Holden wasn’t exactly the most patient or caring of people. Olivia had a much gentler touch.
“What brings you by?” I asked, chickening out. I’d figure out what Boone was up to on my own. “Did you need something?” I crossed my fingers in hopes that he was here to take pity on me and tell me where I could find a demon.
Boredom with faint traces of wanting to leave before something girly rubbed off on him etched along his eyes as he looked at me. “Just checking on you. Making sure everything is okay.”
“Olivia sent you, huh?”
This did win a grin that softened his usually serious face. Don’t get me wrong. Holden was hot (which is totally creepy when talking about a relative), just in a “blue steel” sort of way. However, on the very rare occasion (unless Olivia was there) that he smiled in earnest, it changed his whole face into someone almost approachable. “That would be accurate. She thought you might need help.”
God bless Holden. At least he tried. This wasn’t the first time Olivia sent him over to bond with me and it wouldn’t be the last. But no matter how many times, things never got less awkward. Ah, the joys of family. “Sure I do. A nice spawn of hell with a side of wendigo would be divine.”
“Maggie,” he started, heaving a huge sigh of inconvenience.
I held up a hand, stopping the rest of the speech I knew by heart. “I know. I know.” He couldn’t keep handing me demons. I had to figure out how to find them on my own. I had to become self-sufficient because both he and Olivia had to have the appearance of neutrality for their new positions. Blah, blah, blah. “I was joking. Mostly. Go home. Be with your family. I’m almost done here anyway. Are you guys still coming on Saturday?”
He nodded. “I believe we are.”
“Great! Don’t forget to wear a costume. I can’t wait to see the kids.” I walked him to the door. “Tell Olivia thanks and say she should stop by and see the place.”
He looked back at the main room. His eyes drifted back to the purple wall. “Is the kitchen set up?”
“It is. That’s the first thing I did. Do you want to see it?” My kitchen was spotless. It would even live up to Holden’s high standards of cleanliness. “I have cupcakes if you want one.”
He followed me back to the kitchen. “Isn’t it too soon to be baking?”
“These aren’t to sell,” I said, going through the swinging door. I pulled the last of the cupcakes from the refrigerator. “I was practicing and trying new recipes. You could take them home to the kids.”
“The last thing either of them need is more sugar.”
The disgust in his words made me laugh. I still struggled to picture him with two little kids running around acting…well, like children.
“So how long is ‘a while’?” he asked.
Damn. He wasn’t going to let the feeding thing drop. “I don’t know. A couple weeks, maybe.” I unfolded a flattened box. Perhaps I was downplaying my need a tad. But I didn’t have time to hunt all over Chicago for something evil to feed on, especially this week. I had a bakery to open. Plus, what if the evil person wasn’t really evil? What if they wanted to be good? It w
as so much easier when they attacked me first.
“You know what happens when you don’t eat,” he nagged.
I scrunched up my nose. Easy for him to say. He could have a steak or... “I bet he doesn’t even eat cheeseburgers,” I mumbled.
Holden scowled. “Who?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Never mind.” He probably lived on kale and dirt just to prove he didn’t need delicious food like normal people. “I’ll get something tonight.”
He glanced at his watch. “Put your contacts in before you step out that door.”
“Yes, Dad.”
Chapter 3