Craved (3 page)

“Hi Wyatt. Thank you for allowing me
to help the FPD,” I smiled. Wyatt was thirty-two, two years older
than Micah, but they looked as if they were twins. They both had
chocolate brown hair with hints of highlights from spending so much
time in the sun. Their eyes were the same deep amber that I had
come to love. The only real differences between the two brothers
were that Wyatt wasn’t as uptight as Micah and somewhat
taller.

“No problem, Gwen, I was happy to hear
you volunteered to help. I’m sorry Micah couldn’t meet with you;
he’s busy on another case,” Wyatt explained. A thin-lipped smile
crept on my face since I knew Wyatt was lying. This was their
biggest case, and they’d have all their best detectives working it,
including Micah.

“No worries, I’m more interested in
seeing Amy Harper than Micah,” I said, only half lying. My initial
interest was to search Amy Harper’s last memories. If Micah just
happened to notice how hot I looked and what he’d given up as well,
no harm, no foul.

“What’s the estimated time of death?”
I asked. I could only read the thoughts of the newly dead, so if
Amy had been dead for longer than a day, I might have trouble
seeing into her mind. From past experiences I learned that spirits
usually linger awhile after the body dies. I don’t know why, maybe
they were deciding whether to walk into the light or stay
earthbound. All I knew was, once the spirit departs, I’m unable to
read their memories.

My gift for being able to connect to
the dead always made me feel unique. I haven’t ever met another
witch who can do what I can. The Goddess had bestowed me with a
power I had yet to understand.

“A citizen found her around nine last
night. Our forensics team has clocked her death at being on the
same day, sometime within four hours from when her body was found,”
Wyatt said in a solemn tone.

I nodded. “I shouldn’t have any
problems reading her last thoughts.” I set Aura’s pet carrier down
and walked over to where Amy’s body lay under the white sheet. My
hand hesitated to make contact, since that was my least favorite
part of the process. I pulled the sheet back to reveal her face and
gasped at how young she looked, maybe eighteen. Her complexion was
paler than any vampire’s and her red hair looked like it hadn’t
been washed in a while.

“You okay, Gwen?” Wyatt asked from the
corner of the room. I glanced up and gave him a sad smile, “Yeah, I
didn’t expect her to be so young. I really hope you catch the
bastard who did this.”

“Agreed,” Wyatt said. I walked over to
where Aura sat and bent down on one knee to peer into her carrier,
“You ready, girl?” She meowed her affirmation and I reached in to
pet her head, “Good girl.” I could feel Aura’s power vibrating
through her fur as she prepared to feed me her magic. We were
invisibly connected as witch and familiar, my magic could mesh with
hers without touching.

Returning my attention to Amy, I stood
at the head of the table and placed my hands on either side of her
face, with my palms on her temples. I overcame the shiver that ran
through my body at the feel of her cold, clammy skin. I stared
straight ahead and drew energy from Aura which I
absorbed.

Wisps of fog twisted and curled before
my eyes, slowly making the room disappear into a cloudy abyss. I
concentrated on Amy’s soul that lay just under the skin. I could
see the outline of trees and what looked like buildings silhouetted
against the night sky, but they weren’t coming into focus yet. I
pressed my palms tighter to Amy’s temples and drew in the energy
that Aura supplied. A scene appeared within my vision and I could
make out that the part of town Amy was in was rundown and desolate.
Storefronts with “Out of Business” signs lined a deserted road and
off in the distance, a dilapidated warehouse stood.

The vision flickered and threatened to
vanish, but I pushed forward with my magic until it was as if I
were looking through Amy’s eyes. I saw and felt what she saw and
felt in her last moments. My heart rate became sporadic as though I
were running. The surrounding scenery bobbed up and down with my
heavy footfalls. I turned and looked over my shoulder but there
wasn’t anyone chasing me. I worriedly looked all over but still
didn’t see anyone. Something heavy weighted my hand and I looked
down to see that Amy had produced a stake, but before she could
fling it into her attacker’s chest, he was on her.

The rundown town disappeared and I was
strapped to a musty cot. It looked like I was in a warehouse of
some sort, but I couldn’t be sure. Amy’s memories came through
diluted and weak. I flung my body from side to side, trying to
break the straps that held me down. A stinging pinch made me stop
my attempts to escape. Looking down, I gasped at the needle that
hung from my arm. I followed the plastic tube that carried my blood
into one of those plastic bags that hospitals use to store blood.
The sound of footsteps diverted my attention from the horror before
me and to a man who was fast approaching. I couldn’t make out his
face. It flickered, like the connection was bad, or maybe Amy’s
soul didn’t want to remember such a horrific person. He had light
hair and was dressed in jeans and a zip-up hoodie. He looked to be
around five-foot-nine and his body appeared lean and muscular under
his clothes. Other than that, I couldn’t make out his features. He
knelt down and fixed the needle that was on its way out of Amy’s
arm. We cried out as the pain radiated up our forearm. “Don’t
worry, luv, it’ll all be over soon,” the man said in a thick
English accent.

The vision disappeared bit by bit
until my eyesight refocused on the cold storage wall in front of
me. I blinked a few times to shake the residual energy from my eyes
and shifted my gaze to Wyatt. He was still standing in the corner
with his arms folded across his expansive chest, inspecting
me.

“That never ceases to creep me out,”
he said with a small laugh. “Any luck?” I thought back to what I
had witnessed, muddled memories really, but I discovered a
location, a warehouse of some sort.

“Maybe, does the FPD have any leads or
ideas as to who did this?” I asked, curious to see if my findings
would coincide with theirs. Wyatt flipped open a manila folder that
lay on the stainless steel table and scanned the files
inside.

“We assume blood draining means a
vampire did this, but there isn’t any concrete evidence as of yet,”
he answered. I nodded my head and went to uncover the arm where I
had seen the needle inserted. Sure enough, a small red pinprick was
evident on Amy Harper’s forearm.

“This,” I began, pointing to Amy’s
arm, “was made with a needle. Whoever kidnapped her didn’t drain
her with his fangs.” Wyatt came around the table to get a better
look at the small hole.

“Huh? We assumed that was
nothing.”

In human crime labs, they didn’t
disregard a pinprick as nothing; but otherworldly beings were
different, we didn’t inject drugs like humans did.

I went on to tell Wyatt everything I
had seen as he held his tape recorder out in front of him. “I
didn’t recognize the area, which means she wasn’t killed in Flora.
What it did mean was that the person who killed her was an
otherworldly, and most likely a vampire. A human can’t cross our
protective borders.” My initial conclusion that the perp was a vamp
was founded not on the fact that her blood was drained, but that
she had conjured a stake.

“This must have something to do with
brew,” Wyatt said angrily.

“Brew
?” I pursed my lips in confusion.

“This doesn’t leave this room,
understand?” Wyatt threatened.

I nodded my head. “Of
course.”

Satisfied that I was trustworthy,
Wyatt leaned against the wall and said, “There was a case two years
ago in Hemlock. Witches’ bodies showing up drained just like Amy’s.
Word on the street is that young vampires can get high off witches’
blood; they called it brew. It’s sold in bags of blood that are
slipped into regular blood shipments, making it almost impossible
to trace back to its origin. It’s also highly addictive.” Wyatt
took a ragged breath, as if the world had just plopped onto his
shoulders.

“If we’re dealing with brew dealers,
then this case just got a whole hell of a lot more
complicated.”

I was completely speechless. Witches’
blood helped young vampires high? How I never heard of this was
beyond me. I didn’t keep in contact with the NAWC (North American
Witches Council) so maybe that was why I was out of the loop, but
still. I would have assumed if vampires could become addicted to
our blood, they’d at least send a newsletter warning us. Had there
been a memo I didn’t receive?

Wyatt took a phone call before I could
question him further. He covered the end of his phone with his hand
and said, “I’ve got to run. I’ll talk to you later.” I nodded my
head because my mouth wasn’t working at the moment, too overwhelmed
with this new information.

I drove back to my shop but
I couldn’t stop the flow of thoughts that infiltrated my mind,
like, what was a girl like Amy Harper doing in a rundown part of
town? And, was it true that a witches’ blood could cause a vampire
to get high? I didn’t have any of the answers but I knew who might.
As much as it chapped my ass, I was going to have to talk to
Aiden
.

I called Aiden once the sun was on its
way down, and to say he was amused that I needed his help, was an
understatement. In the two years since I’d known him, I evaded
contact with him as much as I possibly could. It wasn’t that I held
a weak disposition towards vampires, just a weak sense of
self-control around a certain dark haired vamp.

He lived in the Cula
subdivision, named after the infamous vampire,
Dra
cula.
The
architect responsible for building and naming the subdivision was
also a vampire.

I parked my red car against the
sidewalk and with anxious hands, opened the door. Aiden’s home was
ostentatious, but then again, so were most vampires’ homes. He
lived in a six thousand square foot villa with burnt orange stucco
and Spanish tile roofing. Wrought iron railings decorated the
balconies, of which there were three.

I took a calming deep breath to relax
my nerves and finally, after debating whether it was a good idea to
be visiting Aiden, I knocked. The door opened slowly, as if an
apparition was welcoming me.

“Aiden?” I called into the expansive
entryway.

Nothing.

I stepped just over the threshold and
the flickering of light caught my peripheral vision. Aiden’s entire
living room twinkled with a hundred white candles, and standing by
the front window, was a shirtless Aiden. My eyes shot wide and my
jaw dropped to the floor. I thought he was delicious in clothes,
but out of them, he was mouth-watering.

Realizing I was staring, I averted my
gaze. “Did I interrupt something?” I asked nonchalantly, but a
twinge of jealousy stuck in my stomach like food
poisoning.

“Actually, the guest of honor just
arrived,” he said, moving at warp speed to sit on the couch. “Care
to join me?” he asked, patting the cushion. A small smile tugged at
my lips but I quickly straightened it and crossed my
arms.

“I think you got the wrong idea,
again.”

Before I could blink, Aiden was
standing in front of me, bare chest and all. I jumped slightly,
which made him laugh, damn it.

“Did I?” he asked, his voice thick
with seduction. He was a good five inches taller than my
five-foot-seven height, so I was eye level with his sculpted body
but I refused to let the drool leave my mouth.

“Yes,” I murmured. He reached for my
hand and brought it up to his chest. Then he slowly trailed my palm
against the ridges and valleys that made up his spectacular
physique. His flirtatious actions should have pissed me off, but I
was enjoying myself too much to be mad. If my body had a switch,
than Aiden had just turned it on. His lust set his blue eyes on
fire, and if I wasn’t careful, I could get lost in those aqua
pools.

“Stop it,” I protested, as I snatched
my hand away, “I need to talk to you about something
serious.

“How serious?” he asked,
uninterested.