Blood Kissed (Lizzie Grace 1)

“Because I have a strange feeling our vampire hasn’t finished with her yet.”

Her eyebrows rose, and this time, her skepticism was very evident. “You think he’s going to steal her body?”

“Again, I don’t really know. I just got the sense that he was waiting for something to happen.” I paused, remembering the clock I’d witnessed counting down, and did a quick calculation in my head. “The dream seemed to indicate whatever that is, it would happen tonight at eight thirty.”

“I don’t suppose it also happened to clarify what that something might be?”

“No.”

“Of course not.” She paused to write another note, and then met my gaze again. “Anything else?”

I smiled, though it held little in the way of humor. “I think I’ve stretched the boundaries of your belief enough for one day.”

“As I said, all information regarding the case is taken seriously.” She rose. “We do appreciate you coming forward, Ms. Grace.”

“Say that with a little more sincerity, and I might be tempted to believe you.”

“When I have a reason to be sincere, I will be. But you should be aware that I don’t believe in psychics.”

“I don’t expect belief.” My voice was as blunt as hers. “I do, however, hope you’ll take me somewhat seriously given it was those skills that allowed me to find Karen’s body before any of you—despite your noses and natural tracking abilities—could.”

She studied me for a moment, and then nodded. Whether it was in acceptance or something else, I wasn’t entirely sure.

“Maggie, please buzz Ms. Grace out.”

I rose, gave her a nod, and left.

The weather had closed in again in the brief time I’d been in the ranger station, which meant I got absolutely drowned as I dashed back to the café.

“Oh, you poor thing,” a woman said, as I all but slid through the door she was holding open. “You’re soaked through.”

“Yes.” I remained where I was, dripping onto the welcome mat, knowing that Belle had already raced upstairs to grab a towel. “I wouldn’t recommend leaving just yet, Mrs.—” I paused, trying to remember her name. “—Williams, but if you need to, please grab one of our umbrellas. They’re in the pot underneath the coat peg.”

“You are a love.” She lightly patted my arm. “But my Freddie is coming to pick me— Ah, there he is now. Thank you.”

As I stepped to one side, a new BMW stopped in the no-standing zone. The old man sitting inside leaned across and opened the passenger door. She gave me a bright smile and dashed out. I let the café door close, shivering despite the room’s cozy warmth.

Our only other customers were a couple sitting in a corner nook, but their attention was on each other rather than anything going on around them. Given the weather’s sudden turn, we’d be lucky if anyone else actually ventured in.

Belle reappeared and tossed me the towel.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“I want to grab a shower first, but yes please, and in the largest mug possible.”

She nodded and then walked over to the couple to see if they wanted anything else. I wrapped the towel around my hair to stop it dripping everywhere, then slipped off my shoes and socks and padded barefoot through the café and up the stairs. But neither a hot shower nor the bucket of coffee Belle handed me when I went back down eased the chill that seemed to be settling into my bones. I hoped like hell it was merely a cold rather than some sort of portent of evil stepping our way.

I spent the rest of the day helping Mike out in the kitchen, and doing the prep for the following day. When the doors were finally closed and the café once again clean, Belle dropped into one of the chairs and said, “I checked out some of Granny’s books after you left this morning. She did have one on vampires—”

“Your gran seems to have had a book on absolutely everything.” I walked over to the table and handed Belle a glass of wine. “I would have loved to have met her. Given everything you’ve said, she surely would have been a force to be reckoned with, Sarr witch or not.”

Belle’s cheek’s dimpled. “Mom once told me there were over a dozen instances where bluebloods actually called on her, for advice or for the use of her library.”

“Then I’m surprised they didn’t requisition it on her death.”

“Oh, I believe they tried, but by that time, all the important books had been squirreled away by my mother. Apparently, she foresaw that her as-yet-unborn daughter would have a greater need of them than the goddamn bluebloods or their library.”

I raised my glass and tapped it against hers. “Here’s to your clever mother. Long may she continue to blight the aims of the bluebloods.”