Death's Dark Horse Page 5

  Right on cue, her phone buzzed in her pocket just as she cut the carrot cake. Charlie had a strict ‘no phones’ rule, but January happened to be able to hear that she was in the kitchen giving Lucy a dressing down for not saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ to a customer. That’s the least of your worries as far as Lucy is concerned, January privately thought. She quickly pulled her phone out and scanned the text from Mike.

  Gig is at The Bingley Bar. Google it. Dress nice and get there for eight to start at nine.

  Mike was definitely not the chatty type. She collected the macchiato from Matt, who must have bathed in the aftershave today - the smell was so overpowering. Perhaps she was just oversensitive due to her lack of sleep.

  January gave him what she hoped passed for a smile and made her way over to the table where her over enthusiastic customer was working on a tablet of some sort. Good, he’s distracted, she thought, placing the order down and turning to leave him in peace immediately.

  “Hang on a moment!”

  Did you really think your luck was going to change now? January thought and reluctantly turned back to see the man take a large forkful of the cake and chew it thoughtfully. He was wearing a very nice pale grey suit, which had the slightest hint of blue about it. It set off the red in his hair rather well, January noticed, and got the feeling that it had been the intention.

  He paused for effect and she suddenly found herself wanting to know his opinion.

  “It’s great! Why are you still stuck as a waitress?” He asked and there was this honest and open tone that made January think he wasn’t flirting. He actually meant it.

  She shrugged and then tried to summon up a reasonable response. You couldn’t just shrug at a customer and then walk away. “I like being a waitress. It’s good fun. I get to make cakes, so I get to do what I want to do.”

  He nodded like he understood. “Yes, but don’t you want something more? Is there a dream you have, or some kind of secret project?” He added with a smile.

  January wondered if he was serious.

  “What are you, some kind of cake-maker head-hunter? Get away from my best girl!” Charlie had overheard the conversation and was walking over like a friendly mother hen. Even when she reprimanded someone she seemed jolly. It’s no wonder Lucy thinks she can get away with murder, January thought, with slight despair.

  The man in the suit was undeterred. “Nothing like that, I promise. I was just impressed by her cake.” He smiled and Charlie’s reprimand evaporated.

  January could almost see the love hearts pop into her eyes. She hid a smile, secretly hoping the over-enthusiastic customer would feel the same way. Charlie wasn’t conventionally beautiful, but her round face was friendly and her fiery hair, clear complexion, and curvaceous figure were to die for. She deserved someone nice… someone who loved cake.

  “…January?” She shook her head to clear the daydream of Charlie’s future. Had the customer’s eyes twinkled when Charlie had said her name, or was it just her imagination?

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “When are you next making the special? January’s cakes really are something else, aren’t they?” She gushed, clearly trying to persuade this customer to return on a day when Lucy wasn’t doing the baking.

  “Oh, Monday, I think.”

  Charlie nodded happily and then to January’s faint disappointment, she drifted off to talk to Matt. Oh well, you can’t expect fantasy daydreams to work out, she thought, giving the overenthusiastic customer another attempted smile, before walking off to refill Mrs Pepper’s tea.

  “It was lovely to meet you, January,” the overenthusiastic customer said, when he’d finished his cake and coffee and had stood up to leave.

  His bill had been paid and there was a large tip, January noticed, but she still felt a faint stab of annoyance at him having bothered to remember her name. It was one of those weird things that got on her nerves.

  “Nice to meet you too…” She left it hanging and he flashed a perfect white smile that was almost certainly bleached that way.

  “Luke,” he said and nodded at her in what seemed like a significant way, before walking out the door, leaving the strong smell of coconut hair wax lingering in the air.

  Perhaps I was wrong about him not flirting, January thought.

  She wasn’t the only one to have that opinion. When she went to put the money in the till, Charlie no longer had a smile on her face.

  This is my worst nightmare, January thought when she stepped out on stage in front of a packed crowd.

  The rest of Vicious Little Darlings were all ready and waiting to play.

  “This is going to be great!” Mike said, turning back and giving her the thumbs-up, before he launched into the opening riff for ‘Superstition’ and Cherri Fine lisped out the words in her overtly sexy way.

  To Mike, it was a full house with an audience that couldn’t take their eyes off the band.

  To January, it was a bar full of shifters who all suspected she had killed two of their own.

  She shut her eyes and focused on the bass line instead. She managed to immerse herself in her playing, slapping out funky groove after groove on her unusual purple Fender Jazz bass. It was halftime before she knew it.

  “They totally love it!” Lewis the drummer said, when they walked off stage into the greenroom they’d been provided with. He raised a hand for a high five and Mike semi-reluctantly slapped it.

  Mike’s request that they should all ‘dress nice’ had been a bit of an understatement. This bar seemed classy beyond all measure. Everyone was wearing cocktail attire and sipping equally expensive looking drinks. She would never have thought that a place like this could be the local shifter hangout.

  But then, not much made sense right now.

  She slunk to the back of the room and shook her head when Mike asked if she was coming to get a drink. She was staying as far away from the shifters as possible. Lewis frowned and looked like he was going to accuse her of being rude, but changed his mind.

  “Mike!” She called after the retreating guitarist, and he paused in the doorway. “Do you know who owns this place? Or even who booked us?”

  He scratched his head, rucking up his neat blond ponytail somewhat. “Erm, let’s see. So many gigs, so many people…” He began, still looking vague.

  January bit her lip in frustration.

  “I’m happy to clear that mystery up for you,” a familiar voice said.

  January turned to see a man briefly silhouetted against the bright bar lights, standing in a doorway she’d thought was locked.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said, instantly recognising the man’s taste in suits, even though this one was different from the grey-blue one he’d been wearing that morning. This suit was darker and had an air of danger and drama to it.

  “I’m Luke Bingley, owner of The Bingley Bar.” He extended a hand. January stood up to go and shake it, just as Ryan Eridge walked through the same door.

  She snatched her hand back, looking at Luke a lot more closely. That coconut hair wax had been used for more than one reason. His blue eyes, which had seemed to sparkle earlier, now glistened with dark amusement.

  “I thought you wouldn’t recognise me.” ‘You’re not as clever as you think you are’, remained unspoken.

  He smiled and took a step closer. “You don’t know anything about me, but I’ve learnt a lot of things about you that are… surprising.”

  He raised an eyebrow but January kept her face blank, wondering if she was as good at this trick as Gregory Drax was. Probably not, but there was no way she was falling for his ‘blush and you’re guilty’ trick. It was a beginner’s gambit.

  “Well, you’ve got me. So, what now? Will you tell me where my sister is?”

  Luke frowned and she knew she’d deviated from the script. “She isn’t with you?” He made a tiny gesture with his hand and Ryan disappeared back out of the door. “Unless you’re lying and she’s somewhere out in the forest wit
h a stake through her heart.”

  Again, January betrayed no reaction, but this time she was the one who’d slipped up by not looking surprised.

  “So you do know how my wolves died,” he said, the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes.

  January was already bored with their game. “How about this… you tell me what you know about my sister, starting with what was she doing at the vampire place, and I’ll tell you what I know about the dead wolves. Okay?”

  Luke kept his eyes on her, his face giving nothing away. “You could be lying.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t have any motivation to lie. I don’t want to be a part of your freaky pack, and I don’t want a lynch mob coming after me thinking I killed two werewolves. I suppose I should take it as a compliment that everyone seems to think I’m capable of it.” She injected a bit of sarcasm.

  Luke’s eyes flickered and he looked a little less wary, just as January had intended. It wasn’t as if a pony was going to challenge him for leadership of the pack anytime soon.

  “It’s clear you aren’t aware of how things work around here. Someone will no doubt inform you later, but for now, I agree.” He pulled up a wooden chair, covered in carvings of animals running wild, and looked at her expectantly.

  She sat on a sturdy looking wooden table, several metres away from him. “I just justified why I wouldn’t lie. I think you can tell me what you know about Jo first. If you actually know anything at all.” She tried to look like a concerned sibling and noticed that his expression darkened a little.

  He didn’t know where a member of his pack was.

  “Your sister is almost as stubborn as you are. She’s a part of the pack, just like all of the other shifters around here. It is obligatory.” He shot her a look, but January shook her curls like she hadn’t heard him. “When she tried to cause trouble by hanging out with vampires, I thought she was just bored. Her getting fired from her job confirmed it. So, I offered her a new career.”

  January kept her mouth tightly shut and he reluctantly continued.

  “She became the pack’s envoy. I figured if she wanted to associate with vampires, she may as well do it in an official capacity. It’s all part of the accord I have with Gregory Drax. He’s allowed to have a vampire hanging around here, but for some reason, he’s never taken me up on the offer.” Luke smiled and for the first time, January felt like she was seeing his real face – cold and triumphant.

  So, Gregory had known that about Jo all along, January thought and wasn’t surprised at all. Typical vampire!

  “So in theory, that was the reason why Jo was at The Witch’s Wand on the night you found her,” he finished.

  “But my parents…”

  “…Don’t know about the arrangement.”

  January didn’t have to ask why he hadn’t told them. They probably would have died of shame. Being pack envoy wasn’t glamorous, but perhaps it paid well. Although, it still didn’t answer the question of why her sister had suddenly started hanging out with vampires in the first place. Was it plain rebellion, or something more sinister? She’d been gone for almost a week now, so January was inclined to lean towards the sinister side of things. She still had a lot of questions that needed answering.

  “How much were you paying her?” Jumped out of her mouth first.

  Luke looked surprised but recovered fast. “A reasonable amount. More than a job waitressing would pay, anyway. It has its risks, after all.”

  January sighed. Now was not the time to be coy about money. “Okay, what was it, a hundred pounds a time, or something?”

  “Well, no, but close.”

  January nodded, annoyed that Luke had so obviously taken advantage of her sister’s youth and naivety by ripping her off. However, there were more important things to consider. She’d only been working for him since she’d lost her job a month ago. There was no way she’d had a chance to amass the kind of money that January had found in her purse.

  “Do you have any idea at all where she might be right now?”

  He flicked an invisible piece of lint off his suit. “I’m looking into it and will keep you informed.” As you see fit, January filled in, but was certain he knew a lot more than he was saying. The local shifters had become as tight-lipped as vampires were with information.

  “I think it’s time you told me what you know,” he said.

  January nodded, tempted to skimp on the details - just like he had - but she knew it would serve her better to come clean about everything.

  Almost everything, anyway.

  She skipped the part about hitting the deer shifter with her car. She was still hoping that Trace would come and find her and that she’d know something about what had killed the wolves. Also, it didn’t exactly add credibility to her ‘I don’t kill shifters’ claim.

  Luke’s face was impassive, but January sensed he wasn’t pleased.

  “So, you’re saying you don’t know anything. Didn’t you hear something chasing the wolves when they were after you?”

  January couldn’t hide the smile that pulled at her lips. “They fell behind pretty fast, so… no.”

  Luke didn’t look impressed by her showing off. Actually, he looked rather sceptical.

  January shrugged. He could believe what he wanted.

  “You say you found one of the wolves in the morning when you were returning for your house keys and heard a dog and the police.” He thought about that. “It’s obvious someone tipped them off. But why?” He narrowed his eyes.

  January felt like a bug pinned to a board.

  She could almost read his thoughts: someone who wanted to expose the shifter community, someone who didn’t like what he was doing, but then… His expression changed right on cue and January knew he was considering the meaning behind leaving all of her potentially incriminating clothing at the scene. It could be a bluff, or perhaps…

  January jumped to her feet before he could ask why anyone would want to frame her. “I’ve got to be getting back on for the second set. I didn’t realise how long we’d been talking for.” She walked towards the door that led out into the bar, hoping her new bandmates were close by.

  “Would you mind letting all of your little minions know what I just told you? I don’t enjoy being looked at like I’m dinner,” she said, as an afterthought.

  Luke tilted his head in a noncommittal way.

  Great.

  He opened his mouth. January thought he might have been about to order her back, but Ryan’s hulking shape appeared beside him and took his attention instead. She thought Ryan might have given her a look of warning, or pity, but she couldn’t be sure. Anyway, it was obvious where his loyalties lay. She was glad of the escape.

  Standing alone on the slightly elevated stage, she hovered by the drum kit, tuning her bass - even though it didn’t need it. She kept her back to the audience, pretending to study the set list and run through songs, all the while feeling their eyes boring into her. She really hoped Luke would get round to telling them that she wasn’t the one they were looking for.

  “Could you turn down in this set?” January jumped and spun round, almost knocking pint-sized singer, Cherri Fine, backwards.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  The singer’s lips puckered. She flicked her ridiculously long blonde hair back over her shoulders.

  That has to be fake, January thought.

  “Only, I can’t hear myself sing, or think, or anything, yeah?”

  January kept her head down and nodded, not wanting to start an argument right now. It definitely wasn’t the time. Instead, she walked over to her amp and made a minute adjustment. Hopefully that would satisfy the singer.

  There wasn’t anything wrong with the volume of her bass. She had to be loud enough to match the drums. This was more likely to do with there being another girl in the band. January had known from the start that the singer didn’t like her, but she wasn’t here to compete for the limelight. Quite the opposite. She wanted to stand at the back an
d blend in, where no one would notice her.

  It wasn’t working tonight.

  “All right guys, I’ve been hearing good things from the crowd, so it’s all going well. Nice job on bass so far, January. One thing that was said was you need to move to the front of the stage. The audience really wants to see you playing!”

  January blanched and didn’t have to look at Cherri to know a scowl was on the singer’s face. She pasted on a grateful smile, just as Lewis almost knocked a cymbal stand over, causing it to crash loudly.

  “Thanks, but I’m still a bit nervous at the moment. I’d rather stay close to Lewis, so I can really follow the drums.”

  Mike nodded. “Good plan, good plan. The music always comes first! Better get going then,” he said, dropping her a cheerful wink before launching into the riff from ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’.

  Lewis rolled his eyes and January raised her eyebrows at him. Mike never gave you any warning before starting a song, apparently at random.

  They finished the set to a decent amount of applause. No one had left the audience since they’d started playing, which Mike was taking as a huge compliment. January suspected they were under orders to stay. That or they were waiting to get her alone, so they could rip her apart. She’d looked for signs that Luke was spreading the word about her innocence, but hadn’t seen the leader of the pack since their greenroom chat. Perhaps he didn’t believe she was innocent after all.

  There was still so much that hadn’t been said. She hadn’t asked him about the voice in her head, or how he’d managed to force her to change. But then, he hadn’t asked her why she’d run from the pack. Perhaps he just thought she was rebelling - like her sister. Or maybe he didn’t care and assumed he’d get her later.

  It was probably the latter.

  She sighed as she pulled up the zip on her bass guitar case. It was still hard to comprehend how her quick and easy mission to sort out her rebellious little sister had blown up into this. January felt like she was being sucked into a mire, with her dreams of returning to Paris being slowly dragged further away.

  “You can leave anytime,” she said, but knew it wasn’t true. Not until she made sure her sister was safe. With parents like theirs, they could only rely on each other. She felt the guilt gnawing away at her insides at having left Jo alone with them in the first place. Perhaps she should have taken her to Paris, but it would have been dangerous - far too dangerous.