Ravenous (18 page)

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Authors: V.K. Forrest

BOOK: Ravenous
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At the bottom of the steps, Liam slipped into his jacket and, with his coffee in one hand, dialed Fia with the other. She’d called him earlier this morning, but he didn’t want to talk to her while in the apartment; he didn’t want Mai or Corrato overhearing their conversation.
“Hey,” Fia answered. “Can’t talk. Headed into a meeting with a bunch of bigwigs from Washington. Call you back?”
“You called me at six-thirty this morning,” he complained.
“I found info on your Riccis. I was calling to tell you what I found.”
“You were at the office in downtown Philly at
six-thirty
this morning?”
“No rest for the wicked.” She chuckled. “Or the FBI. Gotta go. Call you later.”
She disconnected and Liam tucked the phone back into his pocket.
Fia had said she had info on the
Riccis
. As in plural. He fully expected there to be intel on Donato, but did that mean the FBI had information on Corrato, as well?
Liam was rarely surprised by human behavior, but that one shocked him.
Chapter 18
L
iam walked down the street, heading east, and sipped his coffee. The air was cool, though not cold, and the sun shone brightly. He pushed his sunglasses onto his head, closed his eyes for a second, and enjoyed the feel of the sunshine on his face. Humans thought vampires abhorred the sun, that it made them melt or ignite or something equally ridiculous, mostly because of what they had seen on TV. The opposite was true for Liam. The sun made him feel alive; it made him feel God’s presence, even as cursed as he was, and each time the sun rose, it reminded him that he had another day to prove himself. To strive for redemption.
He opened his eyes and slipped his sunglasses back on. He had more pressing business right now than the redemption of his soul.
What could Corrato possibly have had to do with his brother’s business? He had moved to Delaware when Mai was a little girl. Maybe Liam had misunderstood Fia. Maybe she meant she had information on Donato.
And maybe vampires couldn’t fly. . . .
His cell rang. That was two calls in one morning. Pretty unusual. This time it was his mother.
“Liam.”
“Ma.”
“Mary Hall tells me I had a leak in the pipes and my house flooded.”
“What the hell are you doing talking to Mary Hall on the phone? I thought you hated her.”
“All water under the bridge now,” his mother said.
Mary Hall and Liam’s father had been having an affair at the time he was murdered. In all fairness, his father and Mary Hall had been having an affair on and off for centuries, and his mother had had her share of affairs, as well. It was the way it worked when one was doomed to perpetual life. Vampires were no more monogamous than humans seemed to be. That didn’t mean his mother had approved.
“Don’t avoid my questions,” she went on. “How bad is my house? You should be staying there. I told you to stay there.”
“Your house is fine, Ma.”
“She said thousands of dollars of damage. My house could be a total loss.”
He’d been there the day before. Kaleigh had been true to her word. Not only had the water damage been repaired, but the entire hardwood floor in the living room had been refinished; it looked better than it had in fifty years. “Ma, the house wasn’t a total loss. Everything is fine there. Better than fine.”
“You haven’t even asked me how I am, Liam.”
He exhaled, wishing he’d brought a bigger mug of coffee. “How are you, Ma?”
“I’m fine, but Victor, he’s not so good.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He’s short of breath. He can’t even play nine holes anymore. It’s his heart, I’m afraid.”
“Maybe it’s time you came home.” Liam tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. No one told Mary McCathal what to do, not even Liam McCathal. “You don’t want to be stuck there if Victor dies. It will be a mess getting him home in time.”
Whenever a Kahill died, he or she was brought to the St. Patrick’s cemetery in Clare Point so that on the third day, the vampire could be reborn again. The ceremony, if necessary, could take place elsewhere; Liam had once died in the Sahara Desert. But it was an inconvenience, what with sept members having to be present at the time of rising. Then the newly born teenager, full of questions, had to be escorted safely back to Clare Point. It was just easier when the process could take place at home.
“It won’t be a mess!” his mother argued. “I’ll just toss him in a car and drive back.” She was now clearly as aggravated with him as he was with her. “You don’t think I can drive that far alone, do you? You don’t think I’m capable of handling a little problem like a dead husband?”
Liam exhaled. He’d heard that everyone suspected his mother had married Victor and had wondered if it was true. Even if they did marry before humans, the marriage didn’t count. Not here in Clare Point. That was why she had left in the first place. “I was thinking it wouldn’t be easy for you to get him in the car.
Physically
. Once he dies. Rigor mortis, Ma.”
“So, I’ll have to move him fast, before he stiffens up on me!”
Liam had to smile. His mother, if nothing else, was a practical woman. “Fine, whatever. Come home. Don’t come home. Do what you want. You always do.”
“Maria says you haven’t had your interview.” And just like that, she had moved from one combative conversation to another.
“She would be correct in that observation.” He walked past The Hill and waved to the proprietor, Tavia, who was sweeping her sidewalk.
“Liam, don’t be such a stranger,” she said as he walked by. “Stop by and have a beer one night.”
He nodded, then held out the cell to show her he was talking.
My mother,
he telepathed.
“Tell her to come the hell home,” Tavia shouted. “You hear that, Mary McCathal? It’s time you and that crazy Victor came home!”
Liam smiled. “Hear that, Ma?”
“Tavia says it’s time we go the hell home,” his mother said, talking to Victor, he presumed, and not him.
Liam heard the rumble of a male voice and then his mother spoke into the phone again. “Victor says to tell Tavia to kiss his hairy white ass.”
Liam chose not to pass that tidbit on. “What do you want to know about my hearing, Ma? You know as much as I do. I haven’t been interviewed and no one has told me what’s going on.”
“You need to relax more, Liam. You’re too uptight.”
He clenched his coffee cup tighter.
“So what about the girl? The one living with you? You know better, Liam McCathal. An HF!”
“Mary Hill tell you about that, too?”
“No, that was Mary Kay. Now, what’s going on? Frankly, Liam, I’m worried. First you pull that stunt in Paris and now you have an HF living in your apartment? In the winter?”
“And a dog,” he quipped. “Surely she told you about the dog.”
“Actually, I did hear there was a dog, but I’m being serious, son. You’re treading on thin ice with the Council. Why would you poke them with a sharp stick? I mean, honestly, Liam . . .”
After that, Liam didn’t say anything more; he just let her talk. Five minutes later, he was off the phone. He walked by the Lighthouse Motel and waved at the octogenarian proprietress, Mrs. Cahall, who was standing out front wearing a white tennis skirt and sweater, smoking a cigarette. She was all skinny, white legs and bright pink lipstick. She waved wildly at him. She didn’t play tennis, but she played a mean game of gin rummy and had won two hundred dollars off him last time he’d been home.
“Closed for the winter! Come by tomorrow night for cards!” she hollered after him. She was hard of hearing, so she assumed everyone else was. “I’ll beat your pants off!”
He smiled and waved and kept going. There were a lot of crazy vampires in this town and she was definitely one of them. Maybe
crazy
was too harsh a word. Maybe
eccentric
better described her. Because there were some definite crazies around here.
A block off the bay, he turned north, leaving the quaint shops and eating establishments, mostly closed now, for a residential area. Most of the Victorian cottages had been built before the turn of the twentieth century and were painted bright, historically accurate colors: pink, turquoise, and yellow. All the homes, even those rented out in the summer, were owned by locals. And now that the summer season was over, the vampires were back in town. They were everywhere: raking their lawns, repairing mailboxes, sweeping their sidewalks. Liam waved and smiled.
Liam tried Anthony’s phone again as he walked. But Anthony didn’t answer. All he got was a recording. He didn’t leave a message. Liam crossed Rose Street and turned onto Geranium. He waved to several residents but didn’t stop to chat with anyone. It just wasn’t his thing, making nice with sept members. Even now, when how they viewed him could make or break him.
Liam found Gair Kahill at his yellow house, seated on his front porch, in a bright pink Adirondack chair, smoking a pipe and reading the
New York Times
.
Gair was the chieftain of the sept. He had led them here to the colonies all those years ago when they’d been forced to flee Ireland, running for their lives from the vampire hunters. Some sept members gave him credit for saving their lives, perhaps their souls. Liam was one of them. It was Gair who had brought them to the conclusion that the only way to regain God’s favor was to protect his humans. Liam adored him. Feared him. Nearly worshipped him.
“I wondered how long it would take you to come,” Gair said, turning the page of his paper. In his sixties, he wore his gray beard close-clipped, but he needed a haircut. He was wearing a windbreaker that advertised a popular local brewery; Gair was a fan of pop-culture clothing. He had an entire collection of vintage T-shirts.
Liam walked up the steps. “Good to see you, Gair.” He offered his hand. Gair didn’t get up, but he shook his hand.
“Sit down.” He pointed to a matching turquoise-colored chair.
“That’s okay. I’m not staying.” Liam leaned against the porch rail, finishing off his coffee.
“You come to talk about your hearing or those humans you’ve got at your place?”
Liam smiled to himself, glancing down at the worn floorboards of the porch. “I came to talk to you about the hearing. Do I have a choice in the matter of the humans?”
“You do not.” Gair slowly folded his paper, taking care not to wrinkle it. “I don’t have to remind you that keeping humans isn’t permitted during the winter months.”
The way he said it, it sounded like Liam was keeping
pets
. “It’s temporary. They’re in a jam. I’m trying to help them out.” He considered how much he should say. “Someone’s after them.”
“There are police for that sort of thing.”
Liam lifted his gaze to meet the old man’s. His skin was leathered and wrinkly, but his eyes were the clearest blue. He looked a lot like Spencer Tracy in
The Old Man and the Sea.
“You know that’s not always an option.”
“She in trouble, or him?”
“Both, I’m afraid.” He set his coffee cup at his feet.
Gair thought for a minute. “The dog in trouble, too?”
Liam grinned. What was with these people and the damn dog? Vampires kept cats and dogs as pets, too. “The dog can hold his own.”
Gair nodded. “They didn’t rob that minimart in Rehoboth, did they?”
Liam shook his head. “Nothing like that.”
“Good, because as far as I’m concerned, people like that should go to jail.” He set down his paper, eyeing Liam. “So what kind of trouble they in?”
“Someone killed the old guy’s brother. Tried to make it look like a robbery but it may have been a hit. Sort of.”
“So who’s after them?”
Liam looked away. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
Gair wasn’t buying it. He waited.
“I think they got caught up in some mafia thing from years back. This old guy called the Weasel got out of jail and is looking for something he misplaced.”
“So
your
old guy stole
that
old guy’s money?”
“Not really, but
that
old guy thinks
my
old guy has his money.” It was the truth. Sort of.
“And the Asian HF? Where’s she work into the mix?”
“My old guy’s daughter.”
Gair sucked on his pipe, then exhaled, and Liam watched the curl of smoke drift heavenward. The smell was pungent and sweet; it smelled of apples. “But they’re not staying long with you?”
“Not staying long.”
“Because, you know, it’s going to be added to the Council agenda. An infraction of the rules like this is serious. It has to be added to the agenda.”
“Right,” Liam agreed. “But that gives me, what, a month by the time it’s actually brought up at Council? They’ll be long gone in a month.” He glanced at the azalea bush that still had a green tint to its leaves. “And my hearing should come before that. Right?” He looked at Gair.
The older man slid his pipe to the corner of his mouth. It bobbed as he spoke. “Now, that I can’t tell you. Good guess, though.”
Liam closed his eyes and rubbed them in frustration. “So you don’t know anything? About the investigation? The interview?”
“No one ever tells me anything. You should talk to Peigi.”
“I did talk to Peigi. She said I should be patient.”
“So be patient. Doesn’t look like you’re left with any choice.” He hooked his thumb in the direction of the house. “You got a minute? My garbage disposal is acting up. Could you take a look at it? You know me.” He was already out of the chair. “Never good with mechanical stuff.”
When the chieftain of your sept asked you to look at his garbage disposal, you looked at his garbage disposal. No matter how good a trained killer you were. “Sure.” Liam pushed off from the porch rail. “I can take a look.”

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