Dark Carousel (Dark 26)

"I don't know what you're talking about, Charlie," Genevieve protested haughtily. "I look like this all the time. Waking up, I look like this."

Charlotte blew her a kiss. "Truthfully, you do look like that when you wake up. It makes me sick."

"Uh-oh, here they come. They're bringing drinks. Vince and his friend Bruce at your nine o'clock. They're carrying one for their friend Daniel as well," Genevieve lowered her voice until Charlotte could barely make out what she was saying over the music.

Both women plastered on smiles as the two men toed chairs around and sat at their table without asking.

"I know you must have missed us," Bruce Van Hues said. "So we came bearing gifts." He put the drinks down in front of them, flashing them smiles as if that would convince them he was merely joking.

"Pined away," Charlotte said. "Could hardly breathe without you."

Vince laughed, nudging Genevieve playfully with his shoulder before pulling his chair very close to hers, making a show of claiming her. Charlotte saw Genevieve's eyes darken from her normal vivid emerald green to a much deeper forest green, like moss after a rain. That was always, always a bad sign with her best friend. Genevieve had a bit of a temper. She flashed hot and wild, but it never lasted long. Charlotte, however, could hold a mean grudge. She wasn't happy about it, but if she was honest, she could. For a long time.

Charlotte knew Vince was genuinely attracted to Genevieve. Most men were. She was gorgeous. But she was fairly certain the three men had followed them to the club. They hadn't just picked them out of the crowd of women. Four stories' worth of women. Many were beautiful, and most were hungry, looking to take someone home. Genevieve and Charlotte had made it clear several times to the trio of men that they weren't there for casual hookups. That hadn't deterred them in the least.

Daniel sauntered over, pulled out the chair beside Charlotte's and dropped into it. "I think I've done my duty for the night." He picked up the drink in front of Charlotte, grinned at her and took a sip. "You haven't done yours, though, woman. You've hardly danced at all. Think of all the disappointment that's caused so many men."

Charlotte shook her head, flashing a small smile at him. He really thought he was charming. He pushed the drink toward her and deliberately she wrapped her fingers around the glass, her fingers automatically finding the exact spots where his fingers had touched as she lifted it to her mouth and tipped some of the contents down her throat. The jolt hit her like it always did when she opened herself up to a psychic connection. Her mind tunneled and she found herself in the void, looking at the fresh memories of the men who had touched the glass before her.

The bartender first. His touch was imprinted there. He was worried about his mother and didn't like his father. He wanted a raise and was very tired of drunken women coming on to him. He wished he could come out openly and declare he preferred men, but his father had made it clear if he did so, it would ruin his family and he would be disowned. The bartender wished he had the guts to tell his father to go to hell, and just walk away from his family instead of living a lie.

Charlotte felt bad for the man and risked a quick look in the direction of the bar. There were too many bodies dancing to the music for her to see the actual bar, and she knew she was putting off the inevitable--allowing herself to read Daniel's memories. Quick flashes of horror movies pushed at her vision. A stake driven into a man's chest. Blood erupting, spraying like a fountain. The victim's eyes wide-open, revealing shock and terrible suffering. Daniel swinging a hammer to drive the stake deep. Voices urging him on. Distaste for the task but determination.

Charlotte gasped and let go of the glass, leaping up, knocking her chair over in the process as she backed away from the table. Not a horror movie. Reality. She couldn't breathe for a moment, couldn't catch a breath. There was no air in the room. He had done that. Killed a human being by driving a stake through the man's heart. Vince had been there. So had Bruce. She recognized their voices.

She was aware of the men standing, of Genevieve grasping her arm. Daniel's fingers settled around her neck, pushing her head down, afraid she would faint. His touch only made matters worse. She didn't get anything off human beings, only objects, but she imagined she was right there, watching him hammer a stake through a man's heart, torturing him while he was conscious. The idea of it made bile rise and she pushed one hand over her mouth.

"I'm going to be sick," she whispered.

Genevieve caught her around the waist and began moving her away from Daniel and the others, toward the restrooms. "What is it, Charlie?" she whispered. "What did you see?"

"He killed a man." Charlotte choked the words out. "Tonight. Before they came here. He drove a stake through his heart while the man was alive. Awake. The other two were with him. And then they came here. Drinking. Dancing. Laughing."

Genevieve stopped right outside the ladies' room and glanced over her shoulder. "They're watching us, Charlie. Let's get inside, out of sight."

Charlotte nodded. She had to pull herself together. "It was just a shock. They killed a man and then came here to dance." She let Genevieve lead her into the ladies' room. "Or pick up women."

"Specifically us," Genevieve pointed out. "I get the vibe off of them that they're totally targeting us. Not any women. They certainly had their choice. Several women made it clear they'd be willing to go home with them tonight, but they keep coming back to us." She glanced around the crowded ladies' room and lowered her voice even more. "Do you think they could possibly be the ones who murdered your brother and my grandmother?"

Charlotte frowned and forced herself to quit leaning on Genevieve. Her stomach still churned, but she had it under control now. "I'm sorry, Vi--it was just so shocking. I let go before I could get any more. I shouldn't have, although the murder was so fresh that it probably would have covered everything else." She rubbed the frown off her mouth and sent Genevieve a wry, halfhearted smile. "I panicked. I've never done that before in my life. It just goes to show what happens when you have a child. You get soft."

"What are we going to do, Charlie?"

Charlotte took a deep breath and then squared her shoulders. "We're going to get as much information as possible in as little time as possible, and then we'll leave. See if they follow us. If I can figure out the location of the body they staked, I can call in an anonymous tip to the cops and name them as the murderers."

"You want to go back to the table and sit with them?" Genevieve asked, her eyes wide with shock.

Charlotte nodded. "We can't let on that we're onto them. We have to just play it off like I was suddenly sick or something. I'll think of an explanation."

Genevieve took a breath and then slowly nodded. "Okay. I can do that if you can. But let's leave as soon as possible."

"Agreed. We'll have to get out in front of them and then find a way to watch to see if they try to follow us out. Turning the tables on them is going to be dangerous, Vi. If they're following us, then they want something. Murdering that man has to be connected."

Genevieve swallowed hard. "Did you recognize him? Was it someone we know?"

Charlotte tried to focus on the murdered man. He'd been about forty. Dark hair. His face had been twisted with pain. His eyes alive with terror and excruciating agony. She would see those eyes in her sleep. She shook her head, trying to still the shudder that ran through her body. "I don't know. He looks vaguely familiar. It's possible he was on Matt's crew. My brother had a lot of employees. When I sold the company, some of them were laid off and they were angry. I got a lot of threats." She ran her hand through her thick hair. "I just can't place him. He looked . . . terrified. In so much pain. I don't understand what they were doing to him."

"They drove a stake through his heart? You mean like they do to vampires in movies?" Genevieve asked. "Because when Grand-mere and your brother were murdered, the blood was drained from their bodies and their throats were torn. Someone might interpret that as being killed by a vampire."

Charlotte's

eyebrows shot up. "Now we're really getting outside the realm of possibility and into complete fantasy."

"I didn't say there are vampires, only that someone nutty might think that there are." Genevieve sighed. "Okay, I'll admit, when I saw Grand-mere, for a moment I entertained the idea that there were such things."

Charlotte put her arm around her friend in an effort to comfort her. "I'm sorry, honey. I know that was horrible for you. Anyone would have thought that after seeing her like that. Let's hope there isn't anything like a real vampire out there, because the way our luck has gone, it would be after us." She tried for a little levity, although with the bile still forming a knot in her throat, she didn't feel in the least like laughing.

Daniel, Vince and Bruce, the three handsome men who had spent the evening flirting with every woman in the place and with Genevieve and her in particular, were vicious, cold monsters. She took a step toward the door.

Genevieve caught her arm. "Wait. Wait just a minute, Charlie, and let me rethink this. I know I was the one pushing for us to get out of hiding and to try to find whoever murdered your brother and my grandmother, but maybe I was wrong to make us a target. These men clearly are murderers, and if you don't think they're the same ones who killed our families, then we shouldn't draw their attention any more than we already have."