Stake and Dust (Stake and Dust series, Book I) (18 page)

"What did you say?" Derek asked.

"Nothing. I'll speak with Tremayne and have
him call his sister. Gotta go, Derek. I'm beat." She ended the call
before he could question her further.

She plopped down on the bed, falling back
onto the pillow. "He's married," she said to the ceiling and rubbed
her face as she inhaled then let her breath out again. She grabbed
the other pillow next to her and held it over her face as she
screamed and kicked her feet. So that was Tremayne's secret. He
wasn't a preternatural problem, but so much worse. He was a liar
and a cheat.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tremayne followed Sheerin into the back room
where the vampire set up a laboratory to conduct his experiments.
He could well imagine Dr. Frankenstein and Sheerin would have had a
lot to talk about. Though as far as he knew Sheerin hadn't tried to
create a grotesque creature in an unorthodox scientific
experiment.

"You look like something the Grim Reaper
rejected out of spite," Sheerin said and sat down at his
worktable.

"I know. I was too good looking for
death."

Sheerin snorted. "How much of the Lugh number
three did you take?"

Sheerin had named the daylight formula after
the Irish sun god, spelled L-u-g-h, but pronounced Lo. No one would
ever say Sheerin didn't have a sense of humor.

"I need another vial," he told his cousin,
who in turn sat back on the stool to study him with narrowed eyes.
His intense scrutiny made him squirm.

"You drank the entire contents in the vial?"
Sheerin asked.

"Uh...aye. Thought I was supposed to."

Sheerin rolled his eyes. "A few sips would
have sufficed."

"It would have been nice to know this when
you handed it to me." Tremayne sighed and lifted his hands palm up.
"Well, as you can see there's been no permanent damage done." He
let his hands fall to his side once more. "Do you have anymore of
the stuff or not?" He sounded like a junky trying to reason with
his supplier. He pursed his lips, not liking the scenario.

"Come closer," Sheerin demanded.

Tremayne strode over to him. He didn't like
the way Sheerin eyed him like a mad scientist waiting for his
creation to burst into flames or something just as tragic.
"Listen," Tremayne began, "I think I can handle – holy mother of…"
He stared at his hand pinned to the countertop by Sheerin's dagger.
His cousin had moved so fast, he hadn't seen it coming, and he
should have.

He pulled the offensive object out with his
free hand and tossed it down on the countertop with a clatter. The
throb from the wound radiated up his arm and the blood pooled with
no signs of stopping. "Why did you do that?" he growled.

"Because, eejit, you don't seem to understand
the severity of taking the Lugh number three."

"So you stabbed me," he said, his voice
hitching as he made the accusation.

Sheerin shook his head. "You're missing the
point as usual."

"Oh, I think I got it this time." He walked
over to the sink and grabbed some paper towels. He wrapped his hand
for what little good it did.

Sheerin turned in his seat to watch him as he
made his attempt to apply first aid. "No, I don't believe you
have," Sheerin said. Why are you still bleeding all over my floor?
Hmm?"

"You stabbed me." As he said the words, it
dawned on him why Sheerin asked such a stupid question. He should
already be healing, but the wound still throbbed and the bleeding
hadn't stopped. His gaze riveted to Sheerin's.

"Ah, now you're getting it." Sheerin tapped
the side of his head with his finger, then turned back to the
counter and reached for a book. He opened it to a page and spoke as
he wrote, "The subject has taken a full vial of Lugh number three
and is now experiencing what it would be like to be a human. Wounds
that won't knit together in minutes, but rather continue to bleed."
He paused in his writing and glanced over his shoulder. "Does the
wound hurt?"

"It bloody well does," he spat and strode
over to him. "Am I your science project now?"

"How else am I to learn what Lugh number
three does if I don't have someone stupid enough to take it?"

He could argue the point, but his cousin
spoke the truth, and calling him stupid was kindly put. "I won't
have to take it for long," he reasoned. "Just until Cassandra goes
home."

"When will that be, pray tell? Yuletide or is
it Christmas? Maybe it will be after New Years. Don't think I don't
know how this works. You're romancing a woman as if mistletoe hangs
over her head and you can't resist another kiss."

"How poetic."

Sheerin waved a hand at him and harrumphed.
"You're playing with wooden stakes with this woman. I get it.
You're attracted to her, and don't think I haven't noticed her
staring at you as if you're eye-candy."

"Eye-candy?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I've read a romance novel or two. They can
be quite entertaining. You might pick one up and learn how to date
a human properly."

"Maybe I will," he said, but had no
intentions of reading such rubbish. He knew how to be romantic, and
he never had a woman complain on how he treated her. "About the
serum, are you going to give me another vial or not?"

Sheerin sighed. "If you continue to take Lugh
number three, we'll be visiting you at your bedside."

"I can't perish from taking this. You said
so. You're never wrong." He met Sheerin's gaze, wanting him to
reassure him. "Right?"

Sheerin pursed his lips and stared back as
seconds ticked by.

"Sheerin?" he stressed his name and gave him
a look that said he wanted him to answer the question.

His cousin finally broke the gaze. "No, you
can't die from drinking the liquid."

Tremayne felt an inkling of relief. For a
second, he believed Sheerin would tell him otherwise.

"But others can certainly stake and dust
you," he said this with meaning. "You are severely compromised," he
added as if he weren't getting the 'stake and dust' analogy. "If
you discontinue using the substance, you'll recover quickly enough,
but…" He shook his head. "You're vulnerable. You're as weak as a
human and the hunter you're with will not think twice on ending
your life if you so much as show her a little fang."

"I'm being extra careful."

Sheerin harrumphed. "How careful can you be
if you're caught up in the moment? I've been with a human or two.
Things grow."

Tremayne chuckled. "I would hope so."

"Don't be an eejit. You know what I mean. One
is acceptable in the human world, the other most certainly is
not."

"You're like a worried parent." Tremayne
leaned on the counter and flashed his cousin a lazy grin with no
fang. "See? No pointy teeth, Mom. Don't worry so much. I'll be
fine."

"Yeah, that's what Dracula said before the
villagers arrived on his doorstep with stakes and pitchforks."

"So grim."

"What is it about this hunter?" Sheerin asked
in all seriousness. "Why risk your health, heck your life, to be
with her? I'm sure you could manage sending her on her merry way
with little or no trouble, but instead you're inviting her over for
a nightcap."

"Were you spying on me?"

Sheerin shrugged. "Are you avoiding the
question on purpose?"

"Maybe," he said. Sheerin did have a valid
point. Why did he wish to take such a risk? Nothing could truly
come from their light flirtations, but yet he could not let her go
so readily. "I don't know," he finally said with all honesty. "She
intrigues me, like no lass has in a long time."

Sheerin's brows furrowed over the bridge of
his nose. "This is not just a conquest with you then?"

"Conquest? What are you yammering on about?"
He harrumphed. "Of course not. I am not a lecher in search of
vulnerable women."

"I highly doubt Miss Hayes fits the category
of a vulnerable woman."

He chuckled at the mere thought. "No, she
does not." He rubbed his jaw. "She's funny, intelligent...and quite
elegant."

"Elegant?" Sheerin snorted. "Are we talking
about the same hunter who marched into your pub, and staked her
claim, so to speak?"

"Of course. She handles her weapons with ease
and grace."

"Leather and chains seems more her style,"
Sheerin added. "Love has always mystified me. And you, dear cousin,
have not helped my observation."

His gaze riveted to Sheerin. "Who said
anything about love."

This made his cousin laugh loud and sure. "My
lad, you must sit where I am and take a gander. What else could
have you so enthralled unless hunters are now capable of
glamour."

He waved Sheerin off. "I said I was
intrigued. I never claimed my heart was involved."

"Say what you will."

Tremayne rolled his eyes and changed the
subject. "Are you or are you not going to give me more of the Lugh
number three or not?" Sheerin didn't jump up and grab another vial,
but he didn't flat out nix the idea either. He gave his cousin a
moment to think over his demand.

"Fine," Sheerin said then added, "but I must
be near to evaluate. When will you be seeing Miss Hayes?" he asked
as he headed over to a glass cabinet, where he kept all sorts of
vials in various jars.

"I'm seeing her tonight."

Sheerin looked over his shoulder. "Then why
would you need a daylight potion?"

He lifted one brow. "Must I explain..."

It took a second or two, but he finally got
it. "Oh. I see." He turned away and fished out a vial from the top
shelf of the cabinet. When he handed it to him, he did so with
reluctance. "Only use it if you must, and sparingly. No one has
taken as much as you have, not even me. I would sorely miss you if
something were to happen because you misused the potion."

He took hold of the vial and slipped it into
his pocket. "No one is misusing anything. I'll only use it if I
need to." He started for the door.

"Keep a weapon close," Sheerin called to
him.

He turned to look at him. "What for?"

"You're sleeping with the enemy. I would be
prepared if I were you."

"Not that it's any of your business, but I
haven't slept with her."

"Yet," Sheerin added. "It's like I'm reliving
the past. Bram was just as pigheaded as you when it came to the
woman he cared for."

"Stop worrying, Sheerin. I know what I'm
doing."

He strode out the door, but he was sure
Sheerin's parting words were: "Bram said the same thing."

Well Bram made out okay. He was mated to
Adryanna, a lovely woman who had once been human. They'd been
together for centuries, but Sheerin needn't worry. He had no
intentions of turning a hunter, even if she wanted to be turned.
She came from a family of hunters and he'd be
dusted
at
first light if he even thought of sinking his teeth into her lovely
flesh.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Cassandra shimmied into a pair of skinny
jeans and tucked her silk blouse into her waistband before she
reached for her black knee high boots. She grabbed her jacket,
phone and keys and headed for the car. She made good time and was
able to park in the small parking lot situated near the alley of
the pub.

She would meet with Tremayne… Gerard or
whatever the name he wished to go by. She'd let him explain why he
left a wife back in Dublin. If she didn't like what he had to say,
she was on the next flight out.

There were always two sides to a story when
it came to irreconcilable differences, and she only heard the
wife's point of view from her brother no less. She'd like to know
where Tremayne stood on the relationship. She was no one's rebound
or the woman who breaks up a marriage even if it was already on the
outs.

She pushed the door open and entered the pub.
The evening crowd hadn't arrived yet. Perfect. She'd be able to
chat with Tremayne before he became too busy to talk to her. She
spotted him carrying a tray with bowls, most likely filled with a
variety of snacks. He placed a bowl on a table and moved to the
next one. He noticed her heading his way and his lips slid into a
smile only to lose their curve appeal. Obviously, he realized she
was a bit miffed. He placed the platter on the bar.

"Why do you look like you're about to stake
me?" he asked.

"Oh I don't know... maybe because I found out
you're married."

He chuckled, but when he realized she didn't
share in his mirth, his laughter choked in his throat. "You're
serious? You think I'm married?"

If she didn't know better she'd believe he
was as shocked at the news as she had been. "Did you forget you had
a wife back in Dublin?"

His eyebrows lifted. "And how may I ask did
you come by this information?"

"Don't dance around the question. Do you or
don't you have a wife? Yes or no, please."

He took a deep breath. "It's
complicated."

"I'm listening." She folded her arms across
her chest.

"The short version. I was married… I'm not
anymore," he said. "You have my word," he told her.

Oddly, she believed him. "So it's over with
your ex?"

"Aye." He strode closer to her, his eyes
never shifting away as he made his claim.

In her experience, people who lied had a
difficult time making eye contact. "You're never going to see her
again?"

"No." His gaze held. "Now then," he said,
"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

She let out a long sigh. "My brother
called."

"And let me guess. He told you that I was
married."

"Well, yes."

"I'm not," he reassured her again. "I
wouldn't have made plans to see you if I was involved with another
woman. You believe me, don't you?"

She wanted to and that was what she was
afraid of. She had mixed feelings about this man. Vibes telling her
he wasn't human, vibes that he wasn't totally truthful with her,
and yet there was something about him that kept drawing her back
in. His eyes, his strength, his kindness... She saw how he treated
his employees. She witnessed his affection toward a big goofy dog,
and to top it off he was a fearless hunter. She would never forget,
he risked his life to save hers. He had all the qualities she'd
been looking for in a man. He had brawn, brains and he was
beautiful inside and out. She may not say this to his face, but
there it was all laid out on the table. Tremayne was the man of her
dreams, the man she could build a life with if he were willing to
take the leap with her. She rubbed a hand over her face. Where had
all that come from?