“Who the fuck wants this?” I frown, looking up at Winger.
“I do not ask that shit, you know that. We get the job, we fulfil the job, we collect the money. Win-win, brother.” I nod to Pres.
Winger is a solid president, he will take care of everyone within the club. He is fair when it comes to his rules and laws of the club, but fuck me, cross him and you will feel his wrath. Winger is a seer, so most times, he will see your fuckup before you do.
“Pres, the Fenteri clan has dropped off some fresh meat, says that they will drop the extra payment off tomorrow when their Alpha returns,” Oryn informs us when he steps into the room.
Oryn is our chaplain, as he can see and speak to the dead. He also comes with an added extra in the form of a sixteen-year-old ghost, Izzy.
We can see her as we are supernaturals, but humans cannot, unless Izzy wants to make a point, and believe me, sometimes her points are fucking hilarious.
Dressed in the clothes she died in, Izzy sits on the bar in a navy hoodie and ripped jeans, with Vans.
“Sup, Camo?”
“Sup? Really? You are trying that shit now.” I glance at her.
“Why not? I am fucking bored to death, man.” She giggles. “See what I did there.”
I can’t help but smile at the girl. She may be a ghost but we see her as a little sister, since she has been here for three fucking years. Both she and Oryn have tried working out why she has not moved on yet, since her parents have and they all died in the same car crash.
“You need to get a life, little miss.” I wink and leave the room, leaving her laughing behind me.
“We following you, VP?” Thorin asks.
I nod, checking that he is wearing his ring. Thorin is the club’s vampire, and luckily for him, he found a witch who did not want to kill his pale ass, so she granted him a ring that allows him to walk among the living during the day.
We leave the clubhouse and all thoughts of Skyla leave my mind, forcing me to focus on the job that I need to do. Once I get this job done, I can get my dick sucked, see if that will help clear my head.
Fuck me, women can be so fucking complicated when they want to be.
Through the inner connection, Cotton guides us through the streets of Salem. Fall is here so the streets are lined with trees that bask in their orange and brown leaves. Salem really is the best place to be during this season, and believe me, we get flooded with tourists come Halloween.
Best fucking night of the year.
Supernaturals can be themselves to an extent, but we still take some precautions when it comes to overzealous humans wanting a piece of us for a good ride, or to get a bounty which has picked back up again over the years.
With Thorin and Rush at my side, we arrive at the cabin in the woods, and a little old lady comes out to greet us with a shotgun in her hand, aimed at us.
“Whoa there, little lady. We just want to talk.” Thorin tries using his soothing vampire voice but she jerks her gun at him.
“Not going to work, bloodsucker. I know what you’re here for and you ain’t getting it.”
“Let me try,” Rush speaks before moving closer.
I watch as he steps to her, speaking in hushed tones, until the gun is lowered. Rush has compulsion voice power. He lowers his voice, adding some gruffness to it, and it makes you turn into mush for him and do what he says.
He nods his head at us, in the direction of the cabin.
“In a box under the loose floorboard under her bed,” he informs us.
I slap him on the shoulder as we leave him on the front porch of the cabin. An unsettling feeling hits my gut, and I can’t help but think this was too fucking easy.
“Something is off,” I call out to Thorin, who nods in agreement.
His eyes darken, and I know he is sensing the room.
“There is a strong, non-human heartbeat back there.”