Home > Night's Master (Children of The Night #3)(22)

Night's Master (Children of The Night #3)(22)
Author: Amanda Ashley

“So glad you're here,” the redheaded one said. “I don't drive, you know, so whenever new books come out, I either have to impose on my grandson and ask him to drive me over to one of the bookstores in River's Edge, or order them online. But now you're here!”

“Come along, Edna,” the other woman said, taking hold of her friend's arm. “I'm sure she doesn't give a fig about your shopping habits.”

“Oh, but I do,” I said, smiling at the two of them. If they bought this many books every time they came in, I could stop worrying about going out of business.

Edna moved closer to the counter. “I don't suppose you give a senior discount, do you?” she asked in a near whisper.

“Well, I never have,” I said, “but I will today. How does 10 percent sound?”

“You see, Pearl,” Edna said with a triumphant grin, “I told you it wouldn't hurt to ask!”

“Have you two been friends long?” I asked as I rang up their sales.

“Oh, my, yes,” Pearl exclaimed.

“Fifty-five years come January,” Edna said. “We met in the maternity ward. I was having my first baby.”

“And I was having my second.” Pearl looked at Edna, and the two women smiled, obviously remembering the day they had met.

Edna sighed wistfully. “Where does the time go?”

“And you've lived here, in Oak Hollow, the whole time?” I asked.

“Yes, indeed.” Edna leaned forward. “Things have certainly changed, I can tell you that,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “All these strange people lurking about. Why last night, I heard a wolf howl, right here in the city!”

Pearl nodded. “I don't know which is worse, the Werewolves or the Vampires.”

“You've seen them?” I asked, surprised that they talked about it so openly.

“The Vampires tend to be very secretive, you know,” Edna remarked. “They never tell you where they take their rest. And they never meet in the same place twice. The Werewolves meet in an abandoned building out at the end of Foster Road.”

“How do you know that?” I asked, my curiosity about Edna and Pearl growing by the minute. For that matter, I wondered how they recognized the Werewolves and the Vampires. Unless the Werewolves were in their furry forms, or the Vampires were displaying their fangs, the Supernatural folk looked pretty much like everyone else most of the time. Of course, maybe Edna and Pearl were able to detect them the same way I did. For a moment, I was tempted to ask, but then I thought better of it. My gift, such as it was, might best be kept under wraps, at least until I knew Edna and Pearl better.

The two women exchanged glances, then looked at me with conspiratorial smiles.

“We have our ways, dear,” Pearl said. “You be careful now, hear?”

“And remember,” Edna added. “Handsome is as handsome does.”

I looked from one woman to the other. “Excuse me?”

“Raphael Cordova is a mighty handsome man, dear,” Pearl said.

“Nice butt,” Edna remarked candidly.

I nodded in agreement, though I was somewhat shocked to learn that a woman of Edna's age would notice such a thing, and more surprised that they knew I was seeing Rafe.

“You do know he's a Vampire, don't you, dear?” Pearl asked.

“Yes.”

“His grandmother is a witch,” Edna remarked. “Did you know that?”

“No, he never mentioned that.”

“Well, just be careful,” Edna admonished. “I know he seems like a nice young man…”

I bit back a grin. Raphael was anything but young.

“But as my husband always said, a girl can't be too careful,” Pearl added.

“Roger was absolutely right,” Edna agreed. “But then, he always was.”

“You know, dear,” Pearl said, “it probably isn't wise for you to go to Raphael's house alone.”

I think my mouth fell open. How could they possibly know I had been out to Raphael's house? Or that the Werewolves met in an abandoned building on Foster Road? Or that Raphael's grandmother was a witch? A witch! Good grief! Next they'd be telling me that Susie McGee was a fairy princess and the police chief was a troll!

After I had taken their credit cards, bagged their books, and bid Edna and Pearl good-bye, I poured myself a cup of coffee and replayed the entire conversation in my mind.

A short time later, another woman entered the store. She was young and pretty, with dark blond hair and violet eyes. I thought at first that she was a Werewolf, and it occurred to me once again that there were an awful lot of Werewolves and Vampires in town, although, after what had happened the last two nights, there were at least two less than there had been. But then I realized she wasn't a Werewolf. She was like Cagin, a shape-shifter of some kind.

She looked at me sharply when she handed me her credit card, and I had the distinct impression that she knew that I knew what she was. Taking her receipt and the book, she left the store without ever saying a word.

The rest of the day passed quietly. I ate lunch at my computer and washed the ham and cheese sandwich down with a cup of coffee. I made another sale later in the afternoon, and I closed up early.

Driving home, I felt suddenly melancholy. I hadn't heard a word from Raphael since last night. Of course, he had probably been at rest all day. I wondered if he would come by my house later, or ever again.

Handsome is as handsome does.

Pearl's words echoed in the back of my mind. Raphael Cordova was handsome as sin, and just as dangerous. Last night, he had killed a man in cold blood. Oh, sure, the Were had asked Raphael to end his life, but it was still murder.

Handsome is as handsome does.

Okay, I admit it, it troubled me more than I wanted to admit that Raphael had killed the Werewolf. How many other Were-creatures and humans had he killed since becoming a full-fledged, practicing Vampire?

It was a question that haunted me while I ate dinner. Like an itch I couldn't scratch, it lingered in the back of my mind while I cleaned up the kitchen, and later, while I tried to watch a late movie.

I was about to get ready for bed when the doorbell rang.

I knew before I answered the door that it was my Vampire. Raphael.

Chapter Twelve

Handsome. The word whispered through my mind as I looked at him. Dressed in a dark blue shirt open at the throat and a pair of black jeans, he looked good enough to eat.

“Any chance I could come in?” he asked.

A girl can't be too careful. I blinked at him, and then, ignoring Pearl's earlier warning, I invited him inside.

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