Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Charlie looked surprised by my comment. “You’re strong, Masie. You’ll be okay just as long as you don’t get distracted by Stark.” He turned to leave. “I’ll have the ingredients shipped here tomorrow. Good luck.”
Charlie left, and I said a tiny prayer for him. What he was doing came with danger. Lots of it.
I went back to my table and opened the piece of paper containing the recipe.
Gasp! “No. That can’t be right.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I called Charlie five times before heading back to my apartment in town, but he didn’t pick up. I hoped he was okay so I could scream, “Are you messing with me right now?”
But Charlie hadn’t answered, and I didn’t want to leave a message or text, considering our activities were top secret. At least now I knew why they’d been rounding up enemy vampires. They needed ingredients. Specifically…
Oh God. I can’t believe I drank the stuff!
Vampire brains. Brains! Brains, for damned sake. Moonshine called for two brains per ten gallons of filtered water.
I really hate you, Stark. He’d been force-feeding me vampire-noggin liqueur the entire time.
What was even more grotesque was that the recipe called for the brains to be stewed with frankincense, cardamom, basil, and ten other plants before being filtered and distilled. When I looked up the herbs, they turned out to be the stuff ancient Egyptian embalmers used thousands of years ago to pickle pharaoh innards.
Yuck. And I’d guzzled it all down like a parched zombie.
I entered my apartment, setting Betsy on the counter, and went to the fridge in search of anything to erase the moonshine memories from my mouth. Pickings were slim. I had one beer, some old orange juice, and mayo.
Brushing my teeth it is. I went to the bathroom and brushed for five minutes before returning to the kitchen in search of actual food. I hadn’t gotten the opportunity to eat my slaw or taters at the Rooster on account of wanting to puke my brains out after reading the recipe.
“I hope your meticulous oral regimen is to wash the taste of Charlie Cross from your lips,” said a dark voice behind me in the kitchen doorway as I stared into my nearly empty cupboard.
So they haven’t captured him yet. Too bad.
I swiveled on my heel, finding Stark dressed in an unusual outfit. Black leather pants, heavy biker boots, and a black leather jacket. His long dark hair was unkempt and wild, and he had smudges of dirt on his face. He looked like he’d joined a motorcycle gang. Or had just fought off something with sharp teeth. Maybe both? Either way, not my problem.
“I told you not to come back,” I said. “And I enjoyed that kiss. It was given freely, unlike most of the ones I gave you.” I was not about to tell Stark that I’d kissed Charlie because he’d been testing out the moonshine or that it had been a trap. Stark wasn’t on our side; he was on the side of himself and no one else.
“Ooh. Ouch.” He pressed his hand over his heart mockingly. Probably because his arrogance wouldn’t allow him to believe I honestly felt that way. After all, Stark was a big, yummy vampire. What woman wouldn’t want to kiss him, right?
Me! That’s who.
With a sigh of contempt, I shook my head. “I’ve got to get some sleep.”
“Big day tomorrow?” he asked.
“A regular human day filled with honest work.”
“I would believe you, but you are no regular woman, Masie Kicklighter.”
I wasn’t in the mood for his commentary or manipulative tactics. I loved him, yes. But it was something I intended to rectify. “Leave, Monty, or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” He grinned.
“I get it. You’re a big, strong, ancient man. You could kill me with a flick of your pinky. I’m just not so impressed anymore.”
I removed a bowl from the dishrack, grabbed the Oaty Oats cereal box from the cupboard, and took a beer from the fridge.
“Out of milk again?” he said condescendingly.
“Yep. And this is what us Kicklighters do. We don’t complain. We don’t wish the fridge were full of milk when it’s not. We accept things as they are and march on, which is exactly what you should do. March on out.”
He shrugged casually. “Or you could simply go to the store.”
True. “Dammit, Stark, just skedaddle.”
“When I am good and ready,” he said pompously, like he was the king of my castle.
“You know what? You remind me of that gum permanently stuck to the inside of my purse. Once upon a time, it was something tasty. I’d even put it in my mouth. Now, it’s just a nasty, sticky mess with a few stray Tic Tacs mixed in.” I’d tried a thousand times to scrape it off the leather, but it just wouldn’t budge.
“Have you tried applying ice and chipping it away? I read it in a magazine. Or perhaps that was a tip for hair.” He scratched his chin. “I do not recall. However, if your analogy means I am something grotesque you wish to be rid of, then it is flawed.” He chuckled smugly.