Jason knew there were vampires who enjoyed Halloween, who took a perverse pleasure in dressing the part. Occasionally, they’d tried to convince him to join them in crashing one of San Francisco’s infamous Halloween parades. But the idea of pretending his very existence was imaginary left Jason feeling like the punch line of a really bad joke. Like being a turkey at Thanksgiving, an elf around Christmas time, or a small, winged god on Valentine’s Day. Not that he’d ever personally met any small, winged gods, but it stood to reason.
This year was the worst. It wasn’t because he couldn’t ignore it. It wasn’t because he felt like more of a cliché than usual. It was because of what might happen if Nate’s intel turned out to be good after all.
Jason still didn’t know exactly what the Allen vampires were planning, but from what little he’d gleaned it wasn’t anything good. And all the emphasis on plastic fangs and goth makeup, on fake gore, fake blood, and dead bodies could only add to their chances for success, could only help them to go unnoticed that much longer. Which was probably what they were counting on.
Jason took a deep breath, hoping to calm himself, and ended up filling his lungs with the last thing likely to help. The air was laden with familiar scents. They propelled his mind back to the days of his youth—to a time before he’d even heard of vampires. Apple cider. Kettle corn. Pumpkin pie. His mouth was watering, and he didn’t even eat human food anymore. Nostalgia settled over him like a swarm of cabbage moths—soft and pretty to look at, too destructive to safely ignore. For every memory he brushed away, another dozen took its place, leading his mind inexorably back to the last thing he wanted to think about right now. Lizbeth Petersen.
All these years he’d been content just knowing she was alive and relatively safe. Sometimes, he’d look up at the night sky and wonder if she wasn’t somehow doing the same. Mostly he hoped she wasn’t.
He wanted to think she’d moved on with her life. That she was happy. That she’d forgotten all about him. About them.
But there was also a small part of him that selfishly wished to be more memorable than that. That wanted nothing more than to imagine she occasionally felt a pang of regret, that every now and again he crossed her mind, and she remembered what they’d once had, and thought fondly of him.
Felicia’s death had altered everything. Jason didn’t know where Lizbeth was now, or how she was or…anything. That was the biggest reason he hadn’t contacted Conrad yet. He couldn’t take the risk of being ordered back to San Francisco before he found her, before he knew for certain whether she was even still alive.
He didn’t know if he could save her, didn’t know if she’d even want him to. But he had to try. He had to try.
“She’s not gonna bite you.”
“She would if I asked her to,” Jason replied without thinking. “Wait. What?” He narrowed his eyes against the late afternoon light and focused his gaze on the man who’d addressed him—one of two men standing in front of him, accompanied by a couple of dogs and a handful of kids. “Excuse me? What did you say?”
The two men exchanged glances. They were both in their mid-thirties and there was something vaguely familiar about the pair of them. They had similar builds, similar blue eyes, and dark hair. If he had to guess, he’d say they were brothers. But what in the world were they talking about? “Did you say something about biting?”
“I meant my dog,” the first man said, pointing at a pretty little pit bull with soft brown eyes and a gentle expression. “Luna. She’s not aggressive.”
Jason nodded. “So I see.” Luna looked to be about as ferocious as a baby rabbit.
“You seemed worried.”
Worried? Jason drew himself up to his full height and frowned at the man. “I was not worried. Certainly not about your dog.” He was a vampire, for gods’ sake. The damn dogs should be worried about him. Which they obviously weren’t. Luna continued to gaze raptly at him. The other dog was a wriggling mass of joyous excitement. “Down,” Jason told the dogs, adding a hint of a growl, too low for the men to hear, just because he could. He watched in satisfaction as the dogs flattened themselves against the sidewalk. “See?” He turned back to the man, triumphant. “Not worried.”
“How’d you do that?” a small voice piped up. “Are you some kind of dog whisperer like that guy on TV?”
Jason mentally kicked himself. What was he thinking showing off like that? The entire group was now staring at him, the boys with varying degrees of fascination, the men with something closer to suspicion. “Dog whisperer? Not exactly.”
“TJ Bennett,” the taller of the men said, extending his hand. “I’m the mayor of Sapphire Falls.”
So much for keeping a low profile. It was all Jason could do not to grimace as he shook TJ’s hand. At least this wasn’t the chief of police. Although the night was young and the festival was just getting started. Who knew whose attention Jason might manage to catch before it was all over? It was a damn good thing Jason had a favor or two he could call in if he had to. He and Aiken, the Sidhe he’d assisted the other night, had exchanged phone numbers, something that might come in handy if Jason found himself in need of bail money. He didn’t even want to contemplate asking Conrad for it. “Good to meet you, TJ. I’m Jason Cook.”
“You from around here, Jason?” the man with TJ asked. “We have cousins named Cook. You any relation to Harris or Bryan?”
Jason stared at him blankly. It was entirely possible. He’d never given much thought to the family he’d left behind, but it stood to reason some of them might have reproduced. And it would explain that familiar feeling he’d gotten upon meeting the Bennetts. Maybe they were cousins—six or eight times removed. “No sir, I’m not. I’m just in from California.”
“This is my brother, Tucker,” TJ said. “And his boys.” He nodded at the others. “And, of course, you’ve already met Luna and Tank.”
“Uh, yes,” Jason said as he shook hands with Tucker. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“So, California, huh?” TJ’s smile seemed a little too genial. “What brings you all the way to Sapphire Falls?”
It was a question Jason was getting a little tired of being asked. “I’m hoping to meet up with some old friends.” The story he’d been telling all week—true enough, in its way—rolled off his tongue with practiced ease. “They’re supposed to be here for the festival, but I haven’t been able to locate them. That’s what I was thinking about when you saw me,” he told Tucker. “I was worried about whether I’d missed them; not the dogs.”
“Why don’t you just call them?” one of the boys asked. “You have a phone, don’t you?”
Jason forced a smile. “Good idea. I should do that.” He would do that—if he could. But for that he’d need some things he didn’t have. Phone numbers, for one thing. He’d also need to not be hoping to catch the would-be ferals off-guard, before they had a chance to start trouble or take off again for parts unknown. “There’s a lot to be said for modern technology.” Although, at the moment, he couldn’t think of a single thing.
“What on earth did you do to those dogs? They look terrified.”
Jason spun around in surprise as two women approached, a gorgeous brunette and a blonde whose hair was streaked orange in places, with black tips. He didn’t need vampire senses to realize these were the Bennetts’ women. The smiles on their men’s faces when they looked at them told him everything he needed to know. The Bennett boys were lucky men.
He, on the other hand, appeared to be sorely lacking in luck at the moment.
“Jason did it,” one of the boys said, as TJ once again took over the introductions. “He’s a dog whisperer.”
“I’m not really,” Jason insisted as he shook hands with TJ’s wife, Hope, and Tucker’s wife, Delaney. “It’s just a knack I have.” One he’d really have to stop utilizing while he was here in town.
“Jason’s hoping to meet up with some friends,” TJ told his wife. “But he doesn’t know where they’re staying and I guess he’s had no luck yet tracking them down.” He shot Jason another glance, still laced with suspicion. “That about right?”
“Pretty much. They probably haven’t arrived yet.”
“There’s a campground across the highway,” Hope told him. “You might try there. It’s a little cold this week for tent camping, but if your friends have an RV that’s a possibility.”
“Thank you. I will,” Jason said. As it happened, that’s where he was staying, in the plain white panel van Conrad had lent him for his mission. A supposedly non-descript, generic-looking vehicle, it still somehow managed to appear wildly out of place, if not outright sinister, in this laid-back farming community. Or so he’d been told. A classic serial killer van, Aiken had called it. Remembering that had Jason shaking his head in disgust. He’d have been better off with a truck camper.
“Wouldn’t your office have a list of accommodations?” Tucker asked his brother. “That might be a good place for Jason to start his search.”
TJ shrugged. “Not my department. That’s something the Chamber of Commerce would handle.”
“I bet Hailey would know,” Delaney said. “Too bad she’s probably already out at Travis’s place. They’ll be setting up for the hay ride. You should stop by,” she told Jason. “If your friends are in town for the festival, I’m sure they won’t miss that. Or the bonfire afterward.”
“It’s a haunted hay ride,” one of the boys added helpfully. “With ghost stories.”
Jason smiled. “I’ll have to check it out.” Maybe he would. Not for the ghost stories or the hay ride. Definitely not for the bonfire—he’d stay well away from that. But he was getting hungry. And a crowd of people partying in the woods near the river did sound like the kind of event his “friends” might want to attend. It also sounded like his own best bet for catching dinner. “Thanks for the tip.”
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