Deadlocked (The Harry Russo Diaries Book 3) (8 page)

“I don’t get it,” Nash said. “I thought her mouth would be
all…you know, stitched up.”

“I don’t get it either. I’ve never had a ghost come to me
looking like this. I don’t see ghosts as they are at death.” I shuddered at
the thought. I’d seen some pretty gross dead bodies. I couldn’t imagine what
it would be like if their ghosts walked around looking like bloody, torn
disasters. “They usually look really good, sometimes even better than they did
in real life.”

It was true. When ghosts manifested, they took on the form
that they perceived they had in real life. Quite often, that meant that they
looked slightly better than they actually did when they were alive. You know
how it is. You see yourself in your mind’s eye as slightly taller, slightly
skinnier, prettier, sexier. Sometimes it works the opposite though. I once
helped a young woman who had died without mending a rift between herself and
her parents. She was quite pretty, but on the plus side of the size rack. I
was shocked when I went to her funeral and saw a picture of her. She was all
bones and angles, her cheeks sunken. She had been suffering from anorexia and
had basically starved herself to death. Even in death, she saw herself as fat. It was sad.

I looked at the ghost in front of me. Unlike the man from
last night, she didn’t disappear the moment we found her body. “Who did this
to you? Why is your mouth like that? What happened to you?” I bombarded her
with questions, but she shook her head, her eyes filled with sadness. “Why
can’t you speak?” Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with terror,
reminding me of that famous painting by Munch.

Throwing my hands up in frustration, I looked at Nash.
“She’s no help.”

“Okay, I’ve got to call this in.” He pulled out his cell
phone and stepped away from the dumpster.

Despite the vile stench, I took a step closer, shining my
flashlight on her body. She was dressed in the same outfit that the ghost was
wearing, although in reality, her clothes were torn and bloodied. My stomach
heaved and I found myself swallowing back bile, when I realized that her pants
were pulled down to her ankles. Had the bastard raped her as well? More than
likely, judging by the blood on her thighs. I began to turn away, unable to
stomach any more, when my flashlight passed over two small dots on her inner
thigh. I leaned in, holding my breath from the stench, and took a closer look.

“Fuck! Nash? You’ve got to see this.” I waved at him,
trying to get his attention. He finished on his phone and came to stand beside
me. “Do you see that? On her thigh?” I pointed to the small punctures that
looked suspiciously like a vampire bite.

Nash’s eyes narrowed and he began to curse. He pulled out
his phone again and punched in a number. “Yeah, good evening to you too,
Salvador. We need to talk. Tonight.”

After he punched off the phone, I looked at him wryly. “So,
second date, second dead body. You sure know how to show a girl a good time,
Nash.”

The next couple of days were kind of a whirlwind. After the
less than stellar ending to our date, Nash packed me off in a squad car with a
uniformed officer, a ‘uni’, to escort me home while he stayed to oversee the
processing of the crime scene. I hadn’t seen much of him since.

The city was in an uproar and the proverbial shit had hit
the fan. Two more bodies had turned up, bringing the death toll to four. The
higher ups in Nash’s department were pulling their hair out, especially after
they had no choice but to declare that there was a killer on the loose after a
keen reporter caught on to the similarities of the deaths and the paper had splashed
a headline about ‘ravaged bodies’ across the front page. Needless to say,
there was a lot of pressure to put an end to the killing spree.

Compared to two more people being slaughtered, my troubles
seemed pretty trivial. Things at the coffee shop were moving right along. All
the licenses I needed suddenly came through. I don’t know whether it was
brownie magic or Salvador’s business influences in the community, but either
way, I wasn’t going to complain. Artie stopped by with our crockery order
and I ran everything through our new commercial dishwashers and stocked the
shelves. The coffee maker was getting a good work out and Tiffy and I were now
expert baristas thanks to Isaac’s tutelage. Tiffy in particular took to the
whole barista thing like a natural. She even exhibited a bit of artistic flair
when it came to cappuccino foam art. Her best so far was a dragon. I was lucky
if I could keep it from slopping over the sides of the cup.

Morris and the boys stuck around even though all the
inside work was completed. The weather was holding so I bribed them with free
hot drinks to chase away the cold and put them to work clearing out the side
yard off the new French doors. I designed a small outdoor seating area with
raised planters and Morris was building all the benches and flower boxes while
the boys did the heavy lifting and put in a new cobblestone patio and pathway.
Morris also carved a beautiful sign with the newly christened name and
hung it from a wrought iron frame over the doorway.

With all the activity, the neighbours and passers-by started
poking their heads in. We handed out free samples and told people to start
spreading the word that we were opening soon. I hadn’t picked a date, but with
the upcoming arrival of the Mariposa, I was inclined to wait until after the
visit and Isaac seconded the idea.

On the night after the fourth body was found, Tess and
I were hard at work weeding through the ever growing stack of résumés. It
seemed like every werewolf in the city had decided they needed a job in the new
shop and so I had recruited Tess to help go through them all. Not knowing what
to expect in terms of actual customers, I decided to hire two people to start.
Mrs. P would continue to operate the flower shop as usual, but now that Tiffy’s
social skills had improved, she would move over to provide daytime help in the
coffee shop. I figured at first, we’d make sure to always have two people in
the shop at any given time. Judging from the applications I had, I didn’t
think it would be a problem to hire someone else if customer traffic warranted
it.

We were in the process of winnowing down the list to our top
five applicants in order to set up some interviews when my ‘spidey-sense’
vampire detector went off. I turned to look at the door just as it swung open,
the little bell above it chiming quietly. For a minute, I thought my
sixth sense must be on the fritz because standing in the doorway appeared to be
a slight, young girl of about sixteen or seventeen. She was dressed in skinny
jeans with the knees worn out, tennis shoes and a black hoodie. Her hair,
which was dyed a fiery red, was pulled back in a ponytail and for the most part
hidden under a frayed, army style cap. She could easily pass for just about
any teenager in the neighbourhood. That is until she turned and met my eyes.
I sucked in an involuntary breath in surprise. Beside me, I could feel Tess’s
hackles rise. I put out a hand to keep her in her seat beside me.

“Hi. I’m sorry, we’re not open yet,” I called over to the
young
vampire. I say that facetiously because one look in her eyes and you knew she
wasn’t young. You know how you look at someone and think they’re an old soul?
Well, this chick was
old
, despite her teenage looks.

“You are Harry Russo, yes?” The vamp raised an eyebrow.
She didn’t try to approach, possibly because Tess was softly growling,
obviously on edge, beside me.

“Who wants to know?”

“I am Hilde. I come to bake for you.” She shifted
nervously, looking down at her scuffed tennis shoes and for a second she looked
like a teenager again, an awkward teenager.

“Sorry? I don’t know –”

“Hilde!” Isaac’s voice rang across the room. “You’re
early. I didn’t get a chance to speak with Harry yet.” He strode across the
room, his arms open in greeting. Hilde relaxed visibly and so did Tess.

“Isaac? Do you know her?” I rose from my seat as Isaac and
Hilde approached.

“Forgive me, Harry, I was hoping to speak with you first, but
it seems Hilde is rather anxious to get started.” He gave Hilde a pointed look.
The two seemed comfortable together and standing there they looked almost like
father and daughter. It was kind of freaky.

“Uh, that’s okay, but –”

“I wish to bake for you. Here in the shop. No better bread
will you find than mine.” Hilde’s expression was one of certainty and pride.

I looked at Isaac who nodded in agreement. “Hilde is a
superb bread maker and has had experience in the,” he paused for a moment, “in
the
service
industry.” Isaac’s expression was a little strained and I
could tell that there was more to it.

Hilde laughed. It was a deep, hearty laugh that sounded
incongruous with her slight build. “Oh Isaac, do not coat it with the sugar.”
She turned to face me again. “Excuse me. My English is not very good. I am,
how do you say, a calling girl?”

“A
call
girl,” Isaac corrected, then quickly swallowed
uncomfortably. “Although I don’t think that is the particular term in your
case.” He turned to me. “Hilde has been working in a brothel in Eastern
Europe for the last few, er, decades. As you can probably tell, she appeals to
a particular clientele.”

I watched Isaac as he spoke. I had never seen him look
quite so uncomfortable. His words finally sank in and realization dawned on me.
“Oh! Ohhhhh, that’s… that’s awful.”

Hilde shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Eh, it is not so
bad, but I get bored. Too many old men that like to spank little girls who
call them daddy. I would rather bake bread.” She looked at me expectantly.

“Well, sure. I can totally understand.” I looked again at
Isaac feeling put on the spot. “I just don’t know how much work we’ll have for
you to start. I don’t know what the demand might be.” I chewed on my lip
thinking. “But if you’re willing to work in the coffee shop as well?” I
turned to her to see her response.

Hilde’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I would like that. I can serve
and clean and bake, whatever you need.” She rushed on excitedly, her enthusiasm
evident on her face. Again, it was easy to forget she was more than just a
teenage girl.

“Okay, sounds like it’s a deal then. I’m sure we can work
out an agreeable wage.” I looked at Isaac and then back to Hilde, my smile
fading. Something wasn’t right. They didn’t seem happy enough. “What am I
missing?”

Isaac shifted uncomfortably. “You see Harry, Hilde is here
because she is to work for Salvador. It was part of an exchange between
Hilde’s Master and the Magister. In order for her to work here you would have
to –”

“I want for you to do to me as you have Isaac. I wish to be
bound to you.” Hilde grabbed my arm, a fervent look in her eyes.

“What? No!” I pried her fingers from my arm, a look of
shock on my face. “I couldn’t do that to you. I didn’t mean to do it to
Isaac. How could you ask for that?”

“Harry, it’s not a bad thing that you have done to me,
honestly.” Isaac looked at me with concern. “Do you still feel that you have
done me some sort of disservice?”

“Well,” I frowned at him. “I…I don’t know. You’re
definitely a lot different now than when I first met you, but –”

“There is no
but
, Harry. I much prefer being bound
to you instead of Salvador.” Isaac took my hand and squeezed it. “You forget
that I would have been bound to someone, one way or another. When we first
met, I was bound to Salvador and very unhappy. Now I am bound to you and I,
well, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.”

“But wouldn’t it be better to not be bound at all?”

Isaac shrugged. “Well, I could probably strike out on my
own, but it would be very hard. There aren’t many unestablished territories
left in the world. And it would be decades or maybe more before I would be
established enough to be safe, to not have to face countless challenges as
other vampires seeking their own independence tried to usurp me.”

“But vampires like me, Harry,” Hilde shook her head. “I
will never have enough power to leave my bonds behind. I would rather be bound
to you and have a chance to explore my happiness than live another century as a
sex toy.”

“Geez Harry,” Tess chirped in, startling me. I had
forgotten she was there. “When you put it that way, I’d want you to bind me
too.”

I threw Tess an exasperated look. She was totally not
helping. I frowned at Hilde. “You don’t even know me. How do you know being
bound to me is better than being bound to Salvador?”

Hilde smiled. “I know Isaac and trust him. If he vouches
for you, that is good enough for me.”

Isaac gave me a tentative grin. I bit my lip again thinking
things through. “Let’s say I agree.” I put up a hand stalling Hilde’s happy
response. “For argument’s sake, we’ll say I agree. Salvador isn’t going to
just let me take you from him, is he?”

Isaac and Hilde exchanged glances. “No,” Isaac said, “But I
have a plan.”