“What do you want?” The question was just as rude and unwelcoming as the first time it was asked, and it jolted Merek back to the present.
Sucking in a deep breath, he got his usual tight-fisted grip on his precognition, and forced his hands to relax on the tabletop. “The first thing I need is Magickal ammo.”
“What makes you think I’d have any?” Holmes’s shoulder jerked in a shrug as he laid the pistol down, stil pointed squarely at Merek. “Il egal for unauthorized Normals to have that stuff—that’s how you get a sweeper team to go through your house, remove your contraband, and mess with your memories.”
One eyebrow arched at that utter bul shit. As if that kind of threat had ever intimidated a vampire hunter. “I need some Magickal ammo for a Glock and a .38 Special.”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you twice the first time.” Holmes’s chair scraped back when he stood. “It’s down in the basement.”
“I’l wait here while you get it.” He’d also wait for the sweat to dry and his muscles to stop trembling in reaction to his intense vision.
The other man thumped across the room to the cel ar door. “Watch him, Boleyn.”
A German shepherd came into view from down a short hal way, its nails clicking against the linoleum floor. With its odd bicolored eyes—one blue and one brown—the dog looked suspiciously like a slimmer, female version of Selina’s familiar. The thing snapped its jaws once before sitting down to stare at Merek as if he looked better than the canine’s next meal. Just as Selina’s familiar liked to do. Merek would bet Mil ie Standish’s fortune this was a familiar from the same litter. He’d never heard of a familiar attaching itself to a Normal. Then again, this Normal wasn’t very normal. He shrugged. Now wasn’t the time to be curious about a retired vampire hunter. He had bigger worries, and he didn’t want to invite any more clairvoyant episodes.
He didn’t hear the Normal return, but he sensed that same irritating presence approach so he turned his head to watch Holmes come up the basement steps carrying a couple of boxes of ammunition. He dropped them on the table. “Now, you wanna tel me why you can’t just get your own at work?”
A casual shrug and a mild tone from Merek would likely annoy the Normal, but he didn’t real y care. “I’ve taken an extended vacation.”
Holmes grunted and resumed his seat. “Most vacations don’t end up with two people dead—one of them roasted alive.”
“He shot a teenage boy.” A blood-soaked memory that would haunt Merek for the rest of his days. He had far too many of them.
The old man’s eyes honed in on him, pinning Merek in place. “Vampire?”
Now it was his turn to grunt. “Werewolf.”
“Mangy animals,” Holmes grumbled, then shrugged. “But they don’t like vampires any more than I do.”
Merek didn’t even want to get into an argument with the man about his hatred for vampires. Hate was an irrational thing, and he wanted to get out of here without a bul et hole in his own hide. A smal smile tilted up the corner of his lips. “I torched one vampire’s wings off, and a lady friend of mine ran another down with an SUV.”
“Good woman.” A rare smile crossed the man’s face, wrinkles deepening around his eyes.
“One of the best.” Merek ran a hand through his hair. “She’s the reason I’m on vacation. And the werewolf boy.”
“Vacation.” The Normal gave a derisive snort.
“I know you keep your ear to the ground in the Magickal community. How bad is it?” Merek leveled a serious gaze on the vampire hunter. He wanted the perspective of someone besides Mil ie and her bodyguard. Holmes’s take would be about as different as possible, and the human wouldn’t spare Merek any ugly details.
“They want you for questioning about the kil ings of those people in Oregon. That old Standish witch is keeping things quiet in the Council, stopping an al -out manhunt, but some strange rumblings are going on in the werewolf packs. Don’t know if it’s related or not, but things look to come to a head soon.” Holmes rol ed his shoulders. “As for you . . . Most say you’ve gone rogue, and the Witch Coven is covering it up since you’re one of theirs.”
“What do you think?” Merek tapped his fingers against the table, chewing over what Holmes had said.
“Selina’d be after you herself if you’d gone rogue.” He made an impatient gesture with an age-spotted hand. “Sounds a little too much like someone’s looking for you and wants as many eyes doing the looking as possible. They had a reward out for information about your whereabouts, and now you’re wanted for questioning. The Magickal you torched wasn’t some innocent bystander. Got a record as long as my dick.”
There was a mental image Merek would have to take bleach to. He reached out and pul ed the boxes of bul ets toward him, opening them to check the rounds and test them for viability. They were good. “There were a couple of other operatives there. One was Gregor—”
“Shit.” Holmes sat back in his chair with a low whistle, the first real sign of surprise crossing his face. “You are in some trouble, boy.”
Merek choked on a short laugh. “I’m aware.”
A long moment of silence passed while both men contemplated the new information they had. Holmes’s gaze met Merek’s. “You better bury yourself deep. Stay away from the Magickal world. Go total y Normal.”
“We’re going to.” It was the same conclusion Merek had reached. One he wouldn’t be letting Mil ie know about when he checked in with her next. No more using her properties, just the cash she’d given them.
Nothing related to Magickals in any way.
“Trailing around that werewolf boy is gonna trip you up once a month.” The old man’s face went blank.
“They know to look for him, know he’s a weakness. That’l be a problem.”
Meaning he should cut his losses and ditch Alex. Merek’s hand tightened around the boxes until the metal casings ground together. He eased his grip and unclenched his jaw. “Maybe, but he’s my problem, and no one’s going to touch him.”
“You said he was shot.”
He managed a growl. “My lady friend is a doctor. Kid pul ed through just fine.”
“Lucky.”
“Very.” He stood abruptly, more than ready to leave, and offered his hand to the other man. “Thanks for your help.”
Holmes hesitated a beat before grasping his hand and shaking it. His grip was strong enough to belie his age. “Wasn’t for you.”
“I know. I’l thank Selina when I’m back from my vacation.” Merek dropped the old man’s hand, scooped up the supplies he’d come for, and moved to slip out the backdoor. “I’d appreciate if you let me surprise her about my visit.”
“I’m not saying a damn thing, boy. Get the hel out of my house.” Holmes used a keypad to disengage his security system and jerked open the door. “For your sake, I hope we don’t meet again.”
“From your lips to the gods’ ears.” Merek stepped out and didn’t look back. “I had a vision of your future, Holmes. You have a choice coming up. Stay with a young girl or go to your death with Selina.”
“I’m retired.” Holmes’s tone was hoarse.
Merek shrugged, stil unwil ing to turn around and see the look people got when he mentioned an unpleasant future. “Maybe an old case you were involved in with her cropped up. A dead end of some kind caught a new break.”
Even as the words came from his mouth, he knew they were true.
Holmes sucked in an audible breath. “Who was the girl?” Then he strangled on a tight laugh. “Never mind.
There’s only one person it could be. My granddaughter, Riley.”
“That sounds right.” Merek glanced back and sighed at the white-lipped expression on the old man’s face. “The girl means more to you than any case, so do yourself a favor. Choose the living. Let the past die.”