Page 2 of Starry with a Chance of Nightshade

There were too many creatures that fed on brains running around under the noses of humans to just take a wild stab at which was responsible. But his gut said ghoul or zombie. They had the strength to treat a human body like an accordion, bending it to suit their needs. But they weren’t known for wanting anything to do with limbs. They were brain-only feeders, not limb collectors, and they wouldn’t have taken the time to make clean cuts. They’d have simply ripped off the appendages with sheer brute force.

Stratton and Drest hadn’t even finished at the burger joint’s crime scene before they were called to the scene of another suspicious murder. Early reports coming in from there indicated that the victim was missing his right leg and left hand. If that was the case, whatever was doing the killing was on a spree.

They needed to be out working the streets and running down any possible leads, not thirty miles away from the city in Tarrytown, making a damn house call. Stratton still wasn’t a hundred percent clear on why they were here. Getting a straight answer out of Drest had proven difficult, making the car ride over fun. All Stratton knew so far was that Drest had gotten a call from one of his charges and dropped everything to rush over.

All Nightshade Hunters were assigned charges, supernaturals they were responsible for watching over, either because they were under sanctions put in place by people above his pay grade, or because they required extra protection. Much like the human version of witness protection, the supernaturals had one as well.

Until they’d arrived at the charge’s home, Stratton hadn’t been entirely sure which side of the fence they fell. Once he realized exactly what family they were currently standing in the home of, he figured out quickly it wasn’t the witness protection side of the job.

Nope.

It was the sanctions side and this family had enough to fill a book. They’d had so many issues at one point in the past that Drest and Stratton had been assigned to them. They’d mellowed slightly over the years, but wherever trouble was, one of them was sure to follow or be standing smack-dab in the center.

There was a loud bang from beneath Stratton’s feet, leaving him staring at the dark hardwood floor. The wall sconces shook, the lights flickered, and numerous framed photographs ended up crooked. And just like that, it was shaping up to be a repeat performance of past infractions. “What was that?”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” said Drest, who had his arms crossed over his chest as a tic developed in his jaw. He’d been sentenced, or stationed when being nicer about it, to New York right along with Stratton. That had more to do with the fact Drest always had Stratton’s back than Drest having an issue with authority. Currently, he didn’t look altogether that thrilled with whatever was going on. He probably knew how much paperwork he was in for.

The hubbub from below subsided. The lights stopped flickering and the photographs, all of which were in black and white, remained tipped. Stratton knew many of the faces from the older photos from having dealt with them years prior. It looked like the younger generations were doing their best to follow the family tradition of screwing up.

“You have got to be kidding me. What could they possibly be up to now?” questioned Stratton, wanting to get back to his hunt for the burger guy’s killer. This was a stop that could have waited. “And why, exactly, did we need to drop everything and rush here? What’s the big emergency?”

Drest turned his aggravated look on Stratton. “Because Rachael called and asked for help.”

“That means nothing to me. This family isyourresponsibility, not mine,” said Stratton. “We should be hunting for leads on our case. Not here.”

“Weareworking a lead on the case,” Drest replied, a certain sad note touching his voice.

As Stratton realized what his cousin was saying without actually saying the words, he tensed. The more Stratton thought on it all, the more his stomach knotted. The family’s rather sordid past had involved body parts. In fact, they’d sort of made the whole piecemealing of body parts famous.

If they were involved, it would be bad. Very bad. There was no way in hell anyone from this house or this family would be stupid enough to have ties to the murders in the city and the missing body parts. It was one thing to still get into mischief, and dance on the edge of violating overreaching sanctions, but it was an entirely different matter to commit the very crime that left the entire family living under a microscope for over two hundred years. It could mean a death sentence for them or, at the very least, a hell of a stint in prison.

Supernatural prisons were nothing to joke about. They were made to hold just about anything, and the stay there was anything but pleasant.

And why didn’t his cousin sound so upset that they might be involved? He sounded annoyed, yes, but not angry. If they were part of it, it would reflect badly on him. He was their assigned hunter after all. What they did could and would blow back on Drest.

And why had Drest’s voice changed when he’d answered the call from Rachael? It had softened, like someone would do when talking to their lover, not a charge.

Stratton had heard the name Rachael before but had only met her for the first time when she’d opened the front door for them today. Her dark gaze had relaxed when she’d looked at Drest, as if his sheer presence was going to right all the wrongs in the world.

Strange.

Come to think of it, Drest had looked at her oddly too.

With a tip of his head, Stratton grunted. “You had better not be involved with her. You know the rules on that. No fraternizing with…”

Drest’s jaw clenched. “Leave it alone, cousin.”

Stratton took a moment to find his center in an effort to keep from saying something he couldn’t take back. He’d been on something of a relaxation kick for the past decade. It had yet to actually stick, but he tried all the same.

Drest noticed what he was doing and snorted. “Have you tried getting a full night’s sleep? It would help your mood more than that deep breathing crap.”

Getting a full night’s sleep wasn’t as easy as it sounded. With as long as he’d been alive, Stratton had seen and done a lot of things he regretted. Most of which had been under the orders of the Nightshade Clan, but that didn’t take from it any or lessen his culpability. It kept him awake at night, along with the demons of his past as they whispered, almost taunting him.

Before Stratton could respond, Rachael returned to the foyer area. She’d insisted on getting them something to drink despite their protests when they’d first arrived, and they’d been standing there waiting ever since.

Stratton was of the opinion that if the emergency they’d dropped everything to rush over for had been that great, she wouldn’t have made time for drinks. He didn’t voice as much.

Rachael had a tray with everything needed to serve tea in her hands, trying to balance it as she basically waddled with as far along in the pregnancy as she was. She didn’t look much older than twenty-five or twenty-six and was extremely attractive. She also looked less than comfortable because she was very, very pregnant.

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