Halloween is Murder(9)

Barry froze. First time in his life. It just didn’t…compute. The guy had dental work that would make a saber-tooth tiger smile. And a grip like a vise.

Dracula hauled Barry forward and breathed, in foul-scented syllables, “Lay off the O’Flaherty case, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Go to hell,” Barry replied and head-butted him.

He nearly knocked himself out.

“You…first.”

Through a haze, he saw those teeth, bigger and whiter than ever, coming his way. He felt a flash of real fear and began to struggle, but it was like swimming through mud. Maybe the guy was just smiling, maybe he was going to whisper more sweet nothings in Barry’s dazed face, maybe—well, who knows?

Another even bigger figure loomed up behind White Fang.

The newcomer hauled Barry’s assailant back. The vam—whatever it—he—was, whirled in snarling fury, trying to wriggle free. Something sharp and pale swung high overhead and lanced down, piercing the vampire’s massive chest. The sound was kind of horrifying. The vampire burst into flames right before Barry’s astonished eyes.

Burst. Into. Flames.

The flames instantly cooled to bits of red-edged ash which floated away into the night. A ring of gray powder circled the place he had stood.

Slack-jawed, Barry gazed up at his savior.

“That makes four,” Mike said.





Chapter Four


“You can’t count Vince Mezza and the Astoria Hotel Apartment,” Barry objected when he had his wits—and breath—back. “I landed on the fire escape.”

“You were hanging on by your fingernails.”

“I drink milk. I have very strong fingernails.” He leaned back against the side of his Ford, watching Mike shove what appeared to be a large wooden stake under his military style parka.

“What just happened?” Barry asked slowly.

Mikes eyes looked like black holes in the moonlight. “You were here. You saw.”

Barry did not want to remember what he’d seen. He did not want to believe what he’d just seen. “I thought you went fishing.”

“I did. I got about halfway to Crowley Lake and turned around. I had a bad feeling.”

“Lucky for me.” Barry examined his scraped palm.

“Yeah.”

“How’d you know where to find me?” After the things he was trying not to think about, he was ready for any explanation, including witchcraft, but Mike’s answer was prosaic.

“I went by your sister’s. I thought you might be there. She told me you were working a new case.” Mike’s voice changed. “Did he bite you?”

“I don’t think so. Scratched me maybe…” The words stuck in Barry’s throat as Mike grabbed his wrist, peered at his palm, then pressed his mouth to the tiny trace of blood. Mike’s lips were warm, moist and soft, very soft. The feel of that usually hard, grim mouth sucking his hand made Barry’s knees weak. He had to struggle to pull in a full breath.

“Er…Mike…what are you doing?”

Mike turned his head and spat into the grass. “Sucking out the venom.” He resumed the lip action.

Barry tilted his face up to the stars and took a couple of steadying breaths. This night was getting crazier and crazier. The craziest thing of all was how much he wanted Mike to transfer his lips from Barry’s hand to Barry’s mouth. What the hell would that feel like? To be kissed by Mike? It gave Barry a very strange feeling deep in his guts. When Mike nuzzled his pulse point, he thought his heart would stop.

Mike finished his ministrations and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It was hardly even a graze, but better safe than sorry.”

“Yeah,” Barry said weakly. It was like he could still feel the pressure of Mike’s lips against the pulse in his wrist.

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment.

This is where everything changes. Nothing will ever be the same.

Barry said, “I’ve got a question for you. I’m pretty sure you’ll know the answer.”

Mike’s gaze was steady. “Go on.”

“What is Samhain and when does it begin?”

The set of Mike’s shoulders relaxed. His mouth twisted into something that was part smile, part grimace. “The Gaelic Halloween,” he said. “One of the four major festivals on the Celtic calendar. It marks the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter. On Samhain the borders between this world and the next, fade.”

“Swell. And it starts exactly when?”

“Midnight tonight.”

Barry nodded thoughtfully. If he was dreaming, he’d probably have woken up by now. If he was not dreaming, this must be really happening.

He said, “We should probably get back to the office.”

Mike was, as usual, unfazed. “I’m parked outside the gates.”

Barry nodded. They had a lot to talk about, but that was a conversation that needed to happen in private. “I’ll see you back at the ranch.”

Mike was already striding back to his car.

*

The phone was jangling off the hook when Barry unlocked the door and stepped inside his office. He knew who it would be, and was not disappointed. Margaret Mary started talking before he had the phone to his ear.