Bitten Beauty (The Deadly Beauties Live On 3)

It doesn’t make any sense. None of this does.

No social media profile for anyone named Zee matches him. A surname would have been awesome.

Why am I doing this?

Slapping my laptop shut, I scrub my face with my hands.

Marilyn walks in with two cups of coffee, beaming like it’s early morning, instead of late at night.

Marilyn is an easy friend to have. She never asks personal questions about me, because she respects my privacy. She gives me my space, knowing I’m a little different. And she never judges me, not that she has much to judge. Like I said, I’m pretty damn private.

Never trust anyone. They always betray you. My aunt’s words echo in my head any time I get too close to someone, and it keeps me at a safe distance.

“This town is sooo incredible. You wouldn’t believe all the lore here. It’s like a mythical treasure trove, and some of the townspeople really believe in this stuff.”

She hands me one of the coffees, and I pretend like I’ve been researching Pine Shore lore instead of a Pine Shore resident… A resident that might as well not even exist.

My freak meter is stuck on full-blown obsession status right now. It’s actually a little scary how much this is in my head.

Zee? What if that’s not a name. What if it’s just Z? An initial for Zachary, or Zane, or Zeke?

Or what if it’s just a random bullshit letter he gave me because I was just some random bullshit girl who was begging to be bitten?

“Are you listening to me?” Marilyn breaks through my thoughts, and I inwardly groan.

“Lore?” I guess, hoping I don’t have to tell her I’ve been obsessing over some crazy guy I met for five minutes.

“Yes. Sooo much of it. Supposedly this place is full of random disappearances. Lately it’s gotten worse, and there’s been an increase in violence, too. It’s usually a peaceful town with the occasional missing person here or there, but they say it happens every so often.”

She rambles incoherently when she’s excited. Half of that makes no sense, and too much of it sounds redundant.

“It’s a good thing that people are missing?” I ask, confused. “And that violence has spiked?”

She shakes her head while sitting down at the desk and turning on her laptop.

“No. It’s good that it’s unusual. We might be here during something big. If there’s anyone who is sacrificing people for pagan rituals, we could completely hit all sorts of TV shows. Obviously there aren’t any real vampires or witches, but as you’ve seen, some people take role play way too seriously. This place has a history of strange and unexplainable.”

Leave it to Marilyn to find the way someone’s death could better her career. She’s not a bitch; she’s just very ambitious. Well, she’s a little insensitive, but still not a bitch.

“How did you find this place?” she asks me. “Because the people here honestly believe something supernatural exists in a heavy dose. They even think vampires are real. The older the person, the more they believe. That vampire club is one I’ve been seeking out for so long, and you somehow found the town it’s in. That’s pretty amazing.”

Shrugging, I lean back and sip my coffee. “I

did some research, and it all seemed to lead here. Oddly enough, it just seemed like it’s where we needed to be. I didn’t read about missing people, though. I certainly didn’t read about a spike in violence either.”

“That’s because they’re keeping it quiet. One old shopkeeper I spoke to says the ones who stir up too much attention always go missing first or they develop a slight sense of amnesia… Like they suddenly can’t remember what they did for a few days.”

She pops a piece of a muffin into her mouth like all of this is no big deal.

“Sounds like alien abduction fanatics live here. What about the violent stuff?” I ask curiously, guzzling my coffee now.

“He didn’t elaborate on that too much. He did say that a lot of new rough-necks—his words—had arrived into town. He hates out-of-towners anyway, so he notices when new people come in.”

“You’re an out-of-towner,” I point out.

“But I’m a flirty female after a hot story,” she retorts, winking at me.

Frowning down at my now empty coffee cup, I stand, sighing as I do so.