Garden of Serenity (35 page)

His best friend leaned back in the wooden chair and flicked the scrap of paper with his finger. “Oh, you’ll pay up on this one, buddy.” Josh Burkett flashed his familiar shit-eating grin. Only braces and modern dentistry had altered its appearance in the two centuries Reese had known him. “Not only do I have it in writing,” the chair banged down hard on the linoleum floor as Josh leaned over the marred table, shooting Reese a smug look of satisfaction, “I’ve got witnesses.” His outstretched arm indicated the four other firefighters sitting around the table.

Reese had never welshed on a bet, especially if it was more along the lines of a dare or involved a woman—this one was both. Wagering an official date with the owner of the firefighter’s local watering hole against Josh’s month of station cleaning duties seemed like a sure thing. Now that he’d lost the bet, Reese was having his doubts. He’d been flirting his way around the woman for months—had even managed a friendly kiss or two—but he’d sidestepped anything deeper. A complicated relationship just wouldn’t work around all the shit going on his life at the moment.

And a relationship with Alexandra Flanagan would be nothing but trouble.

But with Josh pathetically lusting after some co-ed, his friend had goaded Reese into the bet. “You haven’t had anything better than a straight all night, Burkett.” Reese gathered the cards off the table and put them back in the box. “With a full boat, it was a pretty safe bet I’d be pocketing that paper and you’d have your head stuck in the station toilets for the next month.” His hand shot out, attempting to snatch the IOU from Josh.

“Oh,
hell
no! You’re not backing out of this one.” Josh’s superior reflexes were as quick as Reese’s, keeping it from his grasp. He tucked the paper safely in the shirt pocket of his uniform. “This is our golden ticket to a front row seat of pure entertainment.”

Timmons leaned in conspiratorially. “I’d be happy to cover that bet for you, Colton. I’m just afraid one night with me and that sexy Irish barmaid would find you just couldn’t measure up.”

“A woman would choose a life of celibacy over a night with you, Timmons.” McLeod laughed as he cleared away the empty nacho plates, wing dishes and the drinking glasses, depositing them all in the industrial sink.

Friendship, boredom, and the late hour made the whole situation humorous—at least to the other men in the room.

“I’m thinking this date needs to happen in the next—”

The shrill ring of the alarm speared through the firehouse, cutting Josh off mid-sentence. Conditioning and quick reflexes pressed the men into action. Chairs scraped across the floor and boots pounded through the adjoining day room.

“Attention South Kenton fire.” The dispatcher’s disembodied voice filled the newly charged atmosphere. “Repeat. Attention South Kenton fire. Structure fire, East Brooker Road. Witnesses report potential occupants …”

Six men slid down the brass pole, donning their bravery with their bunker gear.

* * * *

Glenn Karr set the fancy glass on the bar in front of the blonde, wondering when life had gotten so complicated.

Thirty years ago he’d bought O’Malley’s Tavern and catered to the everyday Joe of South Kenton. Hard working men who drank their liquor straight up or from a tap, ate their food deep fried and full of calories and watched their sports on grainy televisions. It wasn’t until recently the younger crowd had been clamoring for mixed drinks with silly names and a menu that now included gluten-free pizza dough and salads. And despite the fact they all carried their lives in those foolish iPhones, his new clientele had insisted he hook up Wi-Fi and HDTV.

Life over the centuries had certainly become more complicated.

“That man of yours picking you up?” he asked the woman.

“Josh? No, unfortunately he’s working at the fire station tonight. Why do you ask?”

He nodded at the third pomegranate martini Hope Grayson had ordered. An hour hadn’t passed since she’d slipped in the door and dropped herself on his stool. A regular on the arm of one of the local firefighters, Hope wasn’t normally alone at the tavern. With recent events, Glenn wasn’t pleased she’d shown up without an escort. From the look of her disheveled hair and the sweat pants hanging low on her hips, he suspected she wasn’t too happy about the situation either.

“Yeah, well I’m not driving home if that’s what you’re worried about.” She dragged her long nail around the rim of the glass. “I was bored and walked over from my apartment.” She craned her neck to look around the bar. “I was kind of hoping to talk to your partner in crime and maybe bum a ride home with—”

“Evening, Glenn.” Ronan Nason sauntered into the tavern. His Armani suit jacket, pressed khakis and Italian boots were several steps above the local clientele. “Is it too late for a man to get a drink in this fine establishment?”

After nearly a year of living on the west coast, the man’s heavy brogue hadn’t softened any more than his pretentious attitude. “We close in an hour. Just like every Thursday night.”

“Well then I’ll have a glass of your finest Merlot.” Ronan leaned against the bar, leaving only a stool between him and the blonde, who was working to ignore him. She seemed to be one of the few females in town not enamored by his charm. “Evening, Hope.” Ronan touched the brim of a hat he wasn’t wearing. “I’m surprised to see you here. Nothing newsworthy going on tonight?”

She flashed him a sarcastic smile and batted her lashes. “Like another grant to the university chemistry department for
pig
research?”

Glenn set the glass of wine in front of Ronan, biting back a smile. The huge sum of money that had been gifted to the university had actually been funneled into the chemistry department from Ronan’s employer. It was more important to residents of South Kenton than humans realized. The fluff news piece Hope had done a few days ago had been carefully scripted by Professor Paul Morgan, head of the chemistry department, to look like another useless analysis of swine disease.

Since Ronan had known the true impetus behind the grant money, it had galled him to do the interview. Undercover as a grad student working in the chemistry department, he’d been the one traipsing through the pig muck at Glenn’s farm with a cameraman, while Glenn’s business partner, Associate Professor Alexandra Flanagan had been interviewed in the comfort of her office at the university.

“That pig research may just save your life,” Ronan shot back.

“As a vegetarian, I suspect that
research
will simply waste needed university funds and will be as useless as the pigs themselves.” Hope set down her glass with a bang, spilling some of the drink over her hand. “Aww, jees, Glenn I’m sorry about that. I know your pigs are important to you. I didn’t mean—”

“No offense taken.”

“But your pigs. I—”

Glenn pulled the towel off his shoulder and wiped up the mess. “Don’t you worry, Hope. Takes a lot to insult me.”

“No doubt Glenn’s very adept at dealing with rude drunks.” Ronan swirled the wine in his glass, inhaling its aroma before sipping from the glass and savoring the dark liquid.

 Hope spoke through gritted teeth. “Ronan, I don’t need to go a round with you. I just came in for a quiet drink and some face time with Alex.”

“Someone call my name?”

Glenn watched the co-owner of O’Malley’s sneak in from the kitchen as if she could hide her arrival from him. Though Alexandra Flanagan hadn’t told him specifically where she was headed when she’d dropped her apron under the bar and gathered her purse, she’d said she wouldn’t be long. Three hours was longer than it took to run a typical Thursday night errand. Whatever the hell that might be.

“Evening, Alex. You working the kitchen tonight?” Ronan asked.

“Yeah, something like that.” Alex smiled apologetically at Glenn.

Their short order cook, Chris Dillon, had left unexpectedly an hour before Alex, leaving him to finish the evening by himself. Not that it was a problem for Glenn, but their behavior was just a little suspect.

“Chris have the night off?” Hope asked.

“He went home sick,” Alex replied. “Can I get anyone anything?”

Ronan finished his wine in one swallow. “How about another glass of your finest?” The way his eyes followed the woman with the Irish pixie features, Glenn had no illusions the man’s nightly visits had anything to do with the wine they served.

“The usual Merlot?” Alex asked, slipping in behind the bar.

“Nothing like a local California wine and a beautiful lassie to end a perfect evening,” Ronan replied.

Glenn didn’t miss the wink Ronan shot Alex as she uncorked the bottle and overfilled his glass. Though the two vampires worked together at the university and were decades older than their twenty-something appearance—infancy in the grand scheme of immortality—Glenn hoped nothing would ever develop between them.

Ronan had shown up in South Kenton six months ago with the lush winds of spring as part of the solution to Glenn’s very desperate plea to the vampire tribunal. He would be here only as long as it took to discover the reason behind the recent rash of vampire murders and then he’d move on to the next place where vampires threatened either humans or their own species.

Alex had become part of his family a decade after Glenn had settled in this Northern California mountain town forty years ago. She’d found her way to him, a stray in need of saving. Glenn had made it his personal mission, nearly a century ago, to help new vampires find their way in the mortal world. His reputation had spread and now, countless numbers of young vamps came to him. Drawn by word of mouth, they sought explanations, training and—if possible—redemption.

Every single one of those he’d saved over the years hummed softly in the background of his consciousness, permanently connected to the very heart of his being. Some, like Alex, were closer to the surface. Until recently, her internal monologue was as much a part of him as his own thoughts. Tired of his presence in her head, she’d managed to block him. Glenn shouldn’t miss her quiet whispers, but after thirty years of listening to her dreams and fears, the silence was deafening.

Like so many of his protégés, Alex had lost her mortal family. Her parents believed she’d died the night of the vampire attack thirty years ago. But Glenn’s blood and tender care had brought her from the brink of death into the world of immortality. It had taken nearly three years for her to swim out of the sorrow of losing her former life. Glenn had broken his own codes, allowing her to live with him until she’d become secure in her new life. By then, she was working with him and they’d slipped into a comfortable life running the tavern. In the decade that followed, Alex had received her PhD in chemistry, taken the job at the university and somewhere along the road, crawled under his skin and burrowed her way into his heart. He loved her like a daughter.

But there was just something a little off about the way she’d been acting recently. Alex stacked glasses in the dish bin beneath the bar while Glenn absently polished its surface, wishing she trusted him enough to share what was really going on.

“I’m surprised to see you here tonight, Hope. What’s up?” Alex stifled a yawn.

“Boredom. There are only so many re-runs a girl can watch before being driven insane.”

“Twasn’t a long drive,” Ronan muttered.

Hope ignored the comment or, more likely, her human ears didn’t hear the insult. “Josh is working tonight and I’ve got tomorrow off. I get to cover the Harvest Hoe Down on Saturday.” She saluted with her glass. “Yay, me” Hope took a long pull of her drink. “Anyway, I walked over and thought I’d hang while you closed down the bar. I’m hoping to catch a ride home.”

“Tonight?” Alex pressed a hand to her stomach.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t expect you to have plans. My bad,” Hope said.

“No, I didn’t mean that.” Alex pasted on an overly cheerful smile and swallowed hard.

Without the ability to hear her thoughts, Glenn didn’t know if it was guilt or sickness clogging her throat. But now that he looked closely, Alex didn’t look well. He wondered if the disappearing acts over the last couple of months had anything to do with the recent weight loss she refused to discuss.

“Of course I can take you home.” Alex grabbed the overflowing bucket of dishes. “I just need to get these done.”

Hope picked up her drink and jumped off the stool. “Why don’t I join you? It suddenly got downright cold sitting here.” She aimed her last statement at Ronan.

“And unexpectedly crowded,” Ronan responded, sipping thoughtfully at his wine.

Alex rolled her eyes, but made no comment at their antagonistic banter. “I’d love your help, Hope.” Alex stifled another yawn into her shoulder as she started past Glenn.

“If you weren’t feeling well, you didn’t need to come back,” he said so only she could hear. “It wasn’t like I couldn’t handle the raucous crowd alone.” He shot a look over his shoulder at Ronan and the other two customers sitting at the bar nursing their drinks.

“I know you could. But I felt bad leaving right after Chris.” Alex’s hair bounced around her chin as she tried to add enthusiasm to her voice. “It’s just that I needed to run an important errand that couldn’t wait.”

“I know what you told me, child. But I have eyes, don’t I? You’re dragging around here like you haven’t been feeding enough.”

Alex propped the dish bucket on her hip and reached up to caress his cheek. “I appreciate that you worry about me, Glenn, but really, I’m fine. I just had something that needed to be done tonight. I couldn’t put it off. It’s done now. I told you I’d be back and now I’m here.”

“Well, at least leave the dishes and take Hope home. With all that’s been going on in town, I don’t want her walking home alone tonight.”

“Fine, but you can’t keep me from coming back and helping you close up.”

Before he could argue, Alex disappeared through the kitchen door Hope held open.

“What was all that about?” Hope asked as the door flipped closed behind them.

“You know Glenn. He worries too much.” Alex set the bucket of dishes in the sink and turned on the faucet, relieved to be away from Glenn’s scrutiny. She’d heard the faded sound of his concerned thoughts and had shored up her mental blocks. His suspicious gaze had searched her face seeking the truth. Perhaps remorse had her misreading his furrowed brow. It was probably nothing more than concern puckering his wise expression and pursing his lips, but the intensity sparking in the ancient vampire’s eyes had churned the guilt in her belly. Alex hated being so duplicitous, even if she did it to protect Glenn.