Stake and Dust (Stake and Dust series, Book I) by Karen Michelle Nutt Read Free Book Online Page A

daylight?"
    "I'll convince her to reconsider." Even to
his own ears he sounded defensive. Besides our preys embrace the
night. Doubt they'll be causing havoc during the daylight hours."
He glanced at Sheerin for help in getting Bram off his back, but
the genius was hunched over and scribbling in his notebook and
mumbling something under his breath. There would be no support from
him while he had an idea stewing in his head.
    "This time," Bram continued, "but there will
be a next time, mark my words. She will become suspicious if you
continue to avoid meeting her in the daylight. What then?"
    He pursed his lips. He should have never
answered Mr. Green's mobile, but unless someone knew how to turn
back time, the damage was done.
    "What happened to the demon?" Bram asked.
"The one she convinced to follow her outside?" He added with a
raised eyebrow. "I didn't see him return and the band's still
playing. Seemed to be enjoying the music before she made her move
on him." He inclined his head toward the stage.
    "Since when are you a fan of the Hashasheen
demons?" he snapped.
    "To be sure that answers my question well
enough."
    "Stuff it, Bram. The Hashasheen had it
coming. He's killed humans and the WFTL would be all over my arse
if I had let him go. As I see it, the hunter did us all a big
favor. The Hashasheen also gave us a lead on who's responsible for
the killings that the news anchors have been clamoring about.
Claimed a Draugr teamed up with the Lamia."
    "Wouldn't put it past a Draugr to take what
he wanted." Bram pursed his lips, and Tremayne agreed. Centuries
ago they had to fend off Draugr attacks from their coastland.
They'd arrived in their clinker built ships with a dragon's head at
the bow and stern. Sometimes the fights were long and bloody. Many
never returned home to the Graystone castle, but the Draugr sept
didn't fair much better.
    "I'll make inquiries with the WFTL to see
where they stand on this," Bram offered.
    While you're at it, could you find out what
happened to Lorelei Rivers?"
    "Isn't that the Lamia you were involved with
at one time?" Bram asked and glanced at the portrait.
    "Not one of my better moves." He glanced at
the painting behind him too. He told Cassandra it came with the
pub, but he'd purchased the prize from Lorelei Rivers in the early
1900s. True to the legends, the Lamia loved young men who favored
the arts, seduced them and fed off them and in exchange, she gave
them the fame they craved, maybe not enough to be mentioned in the
history books, but enough to keep them satisfied. One of her lovers
had painted the portrait he now owned.
    Tremayne had been quite fond of Lorelei until
she began to lure men from the establishment, he'd owned back then,
for her own personal needs, which also involved bank robberies and
a killing spree. It didn't end well for the men, and he had to ask
Lorelei to move on elsewhere or he'd turn her in to the GOJ. She
didn't leave. He made the call. He wondered what became of her? He
hadn't seen her since then and had assumed the GOJ had taken care
of her, but what if they hadn't?
    "Are you thinking this is Lorelei's doing?"
Bram asked.
    "I don't know, but we shouldn't rule her out.
Whatever is going on, it keeps leading back to Eternal Bliss. Makes
me think either the Lamia or the Draugr has a beef with me."
    "I'll see what I can find out," Bram said.
"Also since you're masquerading as Mr. Green, I think it would be
an excellent idea to fix the database at hunter's central with a
nice and pretty photo of you instead of the real Mr. Green's
face."
    "It was on my list to ask you about it."
    Bram snorted, but Tremayne ignored him. "This
might help," Tremayne said. "He slipped his hand into his pocket
and handed him Green's wallet, which housed some of the guy's
personal information, like his driver's license.
    "That's it!" Sheerin slammed his hand on the
counter, making both Bram and Tremayne peer at him. "I think I have
an answer to your dilemma, Tremayne."
    His brows