Six-Spot (Afterlife Book 7)

  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  About the Author

  ONE

  A younger Chloe McAllister had sat down in the confessional, lacing her hands on her lap. She'd worn her long brown hair in a single braid, and dressed herself in a simple shift dress. She'd been aware that there were tear tracks down her face, but the lattice between her and the priest had kept her from feeling too ashamed.

  "I don't know what to do," Chloe said.

  "Do you wish to introduce yourself, child?" the priest on the other side asked. "My name is Father Wilson. Confessions are anonymous, so you need not give your name if you do not wish."

  Chloe considered for a moment. "I'm Chloe," she finally said. "Do I have to say something?"

  Father Wilson shook his head. She stared at him through the lattice and thought he was smiling a little. This made her want to cry more. "Is this your first confession?"

  "Yes."

  "You may begin with saying, In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of Holy Spirit."

  Chloe recited the words mechanically. "Now what?"

  "Now, you confess your sins," Father Wilson said.

  "I stole once," Chloe said. "It was my best friend's doll. I think I was eight. I wanted the same doll for my birthday and my parents didn't give it to me. They got me a flute instead. I didn't want a flute, I wanted a doll. So when my friend was showing it off, I took it. You know what the worst part was?"

  "What was the worst part?"

  Chloe gave a watery smile. "I couldn't even play with it, because then my parents would have known I took it. I had to hide it. So neither of us were able to enjoy the stupid doll after all. My friend, she was so sad about it too. It wasn't that expensive, but her parents thought she lost it, so they wouldn't give her another one."

  Father Wilson said nothing to this.

  "I lied too," Chloe said. "I wasn't supposed to. None of my people are. It's difficult to lie. We really have to try, you see. But I did. I lied about practicing my math homework. I've always hated math, Father. I never understood why I needed to learn math. It was always art that I loved."

  "Child, these sins are not abnormal for children," Father Wilson said. "How old are you, Chloe?"

  "I'm twelve," she said.

  Father Wilson was quiet for a moment. "Chloe, what has brought you to confession? Are you religious?"

  "I don't think so," Chloe said. "At least, I wasn't before. My people are pagans mostly. We believe in many Gods, and karma, and... and in reincarnation. They do. I don't know what I believe."

  "Then why have you come to a Catholic church?" Father Wilson simply asked. "You are welcome here, all God's children are, but are you questioning your faith? Are you searching for something more?"

  Chloe burst into tears.

  Father Wilson reached a hand through the small opening at the bottom of the lattice, and Chloe unclenched her fingers and took his hand. He held it tightly. "It's alright, Chloe," he said. "We all have sins. It's part of human nature. Whatever you've done, there's nothing to be ashamed of. You can repent. You can earn God's forgiveness."

  "It wasn't me," Chloe sobbed.

  "Tell me what happened."

  "My parents," Chloe stammered. "They were killed."

  Father Wilson hesitated. "My child, I am so sorry for your loss. What happened to them?"

  Chloe thought about what she'd seen. "I was hiding," she told him. "I was in a closet. My mother told me to stay in it, she said no matter what happened to stay in it, and I did. I stayed in during the entire thing. I didn't try to help. I couldn't. I saw it happen, though. I saw them get tortured, and murdered."

  Father Wilson's hand tightened on her own. "Child, Chloe. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Your mother was right to tell you to hide."

  "No, you don't understand! They murdered them!"

  "And have the police found these men?"

  Chloe laughed hysterically. "These men," she repeated. "These men... these creatures... they're never going to get caught, Father Wilson. Never."

  "You need help," Father Wilson said. "I can help you find resources, Chloe. People who can help you with your grief and--"

  "I thought if I came in here, maybe if I confessed my sins, I thought maybe if I told God that I was sorry, that I didn't mean to do bad things, I thought maybe he'd bring them back. I thought he'd give them back to me. But he can't, can he?"

  "Chloe, in the next life, you will see your parents again," he said. "Your mother and father will be bathed in righteousness, just as you will be, and you will be reunited."

  "No," Chloe said.

  "Chloe--"

  "--I won't be bathed in righteousness," Chloe said. "Because I don't plan on being righteous, Father Wilson. I came in here because I thought... but no. I'll find them myself. I'll kill them the same way they killed my parents. I'll make them pay. God won't forgive that, will he?"

  "Child, that is a path for the police," Father Wilson said. "I can assure you that these men will pay for what they have done to your family, but for now it is important for you to let go of the vengeance in your heart. I know it is difficult, but with God's love, you can release the anger that holds your heart in it's grip."

  Chloe shook her head. She released Father's Wilson's hand and stood. "I don't want to," she said. Before the father could say more, she left the booth and made her way out of the church. She stared into the sky.

  She could go home, she knew that. The fey were her family; there would be plenty there to care for her, and take her in, and love her. And someday her parents would be reincarnated, and perhaps she'd meet them again in another life.

  Chloe hadn't wanted to go home, though. She picked up the backpack that she'd left outside the church and slung it over her back. It had a change of clothing and a wooden stake in it. It was all she would need, now and forever. She had a new life to lead, and it didn't involve the wood nymphs, the matchmaking fairies, and the many other fey that lived in her small village.

  She had hoped to find something in the church, but when she didn't find it, she knew then what her life would be. It became her mission to kill every last vampire on Earth, and when she was done, well maybe then she'd find the peace she was looking for.

  TWO

  Harper Hawthorne threw her head back and laughed at something her boyfriend, Conner Kingsley, had said. They sat with the rest of the Afterlife crew, playing cards and reminiscing over the last job they'd completed upon returning to Las Vegas.

  Everyone was so glad to be home, alive, and healed that they didn't mind that the only job they'd been handed so far had been to rid the city of a group of zuroch demons who did nothing but steal electronics from empty vacation homes.

  "I'm telling you, the last thing we need is to chase another group of zurochs," Brittney Conley said. "They kept teleporting away every time I got close to them. It was annoying."

  "Annoying is better than dangerous," Chloe said. "I'm tired of dangerous. Phoenix was a nightmare. It's nice to have a break. Besides, the zurochs aren't going to bother us for some time. Not after you shot that one in the foot. That was good aim, by the way."

  Brittney grinned.

  "So, when is Afterlife officially opening again?" Sarah
Conner asked, turning to their leader, Alec Morodan. He was stretched out on the couch, his feet propped up.

  "Good question," Conner said. "I'm sure you want to return to your apartment."

  Harper avoided Alec's eye. He'd been living with her and Brittney since his apartment had been set on fire, and it was quickly becoming awkward. They'd had a brief fling in Phoenix, after Alec had turned a man into a vampire, but they'd kept their distance since then. Harper was with Conner after all.

  Alec shrugged. "It should open next week if everything goes right. My apartment is ready, though. I'm just waiting for the movers to get everything setup. All my stuff was burned, remember?"

  Conner nodded. "At least you have the money to replace it."

  That was the nice thing about working with the Afterlife crew. Even when they didn't have many jobs to do, they still got paid a small fortune. Then there was the income from the nightclub itself -- once it was open again, of course.

  "Hey, Isn't Samuel coming for the reopening?" Harper asked Sarah.

  Sarah nodded. Samuel was a fellow shape-shifter she'd met in Phoenix. They had a small thing going on, though both of them knew it was nothing serious. They were mostly just having fun and seeing where things went.

  "Yeah, he needs a break from the heat," she said.

  "Like it's not hot here," Chloe said, making a point of fanning herself. "You know, for it being winter..."

  Conner nudged her. "You hate the cold anyway. Remember that time when we had to visit Montana? You hated it. You kept saying you hoped you never saw snow again. Well, you got your wish."

  "You went to Montana?" Brittney asked. She put an arm around Chloe and took a sip from her margarita. "What was in Montana?"

  "Cowboys," Conner said with a grunt. Everyone laughed. "No, really, I've never been in a place where so many people wear belt buckles and talk about their sheep like other people talk about their wives."

  "Don't be obscene," Harper teased.

  "You love it," Conner said.

  "I don't," Harper said.

  Conner rolled his eyes. Harper laughed again. "Really, though, Montana?"

  "There was a demon there that was stalking rodeo grounds," Sarah said. "We had to stop him from killing barrel racers. He was draining energy from them. Those people are very lively."

  Alec started to add something to the story but before he could, there was a knock on the front door. Everyone looked over at once.

  "Who could that be?" Alec asked.

  Harper shrugged. "A friend?" she glanced at Brittney.

  "All our friends are here," Brittney said.

  Harper sighed and stood. She went to the door and opened it to see a tall, gaunt man standing there with his hands shoved deep in his high-riding jeans. He was old; at least in his seventies, with white, thinning hair, and giant spectacles.

  "I'm sorry," Harper said. "I think you have the wrong house."

  "Is this where the people from Afterlife live?" the man asked.

  Harper blinked.

  "Sorry," he said. "Let me start over. A woman sent me. She's a nurse. Alicia Moore."

  Harper thought back to when she'd been shot in the shoulder. The nurse who'd tended her had been a woman named Alicia Moore, and she'd known about Afterlife. She'd told Harper that they had fans amongst humans as well.

  "Yes," she finally said.

  "Can I come in?" he asked. "I don't want to bother you, but I'm in trouble, and I need help."

  Harper glanced back at the others. They were all sitting up, alert now. She focused on the man, using her Sight to try and see if he was supernatural in nature. From what she could tell, he was just an old man. An old human man.

  "Sure, come in," she said.

  The man stepped into the house, and Harper closed the door behind him. She locked it, and gestured at the couch. The man went to it, and sat down. He took his hands out of his pockets and ran them through his hair.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "This is just strange. I never thought something like this would happen to me."

  "What's happened?" Alec asked.

  "Wait," Brittney said. "First of all, what's your name, sir?"

  "Brian Moser," he said, "but please, just Brian. Like I said, I'm sorry to disturb you, but..." He went quiet and looked nervously around.

  "Can I get you some water?" Harper asked.

  "That'd be nice," Brian said.

  Harper went to the kitchen, got a glass, filled it with ice and water and brought it back out. "Alright, Brian, let's start from the beginning. You know who we are?"

  "Yes," Brian said, taking a sip of the water. Then he put the glass down. "You deal with the supernatural. I never thought I'd have to deal with the supernatural."

  Alec cleared his throat. "Let's start by introducing ourselves. I'm Alec. This is Harper, Chloe, Sarah, Brittney, and Conner."

  "It's good to meet you all."

  "You too," Sarah said.

  "So tell us what's been going on," Conner said.

  Brian adjusted his glasses. "Every week, I play keno. I have for forty years. In the last six months, though, every time I play, I win. I always win. I win four hundred dollars. Every week."

  Harper blinked.

  "I don't know why," Brian said. "I play with different numbers. I don't know why I win, but I always do. It's not right."

  "Is that all?" Conner asked. "Nothing else is going on?"

  Brian frowned. "Isn't that enough?"

  "You're coming to us because you keep winning money?" Alec asked. "That's just... highly unusual."

  "Well, like I said, it's not right," Brian said. It's not natural. I don't know why it's happening, but I want you to figure it out."

  Everyone exchanged looks. Harper couldn't believe someone was coming to them in order to stop making money. There had been a time, before Afterlife, that if she'd been winning four hundred dollars every week, she would have been celebrating, not looking for answers.

  Chloe smiled. "If you don't want to win money, I guess we can help you. But are you sure about this?"

  "Yes," Brian said. "Something has cursed me, and I want to find out what, and I want to find out why."

  THREE

  An older Chloe flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked into the bar. She had been only seventeen, but she had an ID that said she was twenty-one. Of course, like all fey, she had looked younger than her age, and she fully expected to get carded. She had been glad she'd spent the extra cash to ensure her ID would pass any scan.

  The bouncer looked her over but didn't say a word. She was surprised. Then again, she shouldn't have been; the small town in Wyoming wasn't known for it's lawful ways and careful monitoring. She wondered if underage people came in to drink all the time.

  She went up to the counter where a woman was slinging back shots like they were water. She was the only other patron in the dingy bar. The woman glanced over at Chloe, wrote her off, and continued to drink. Chloe ignored her as well, and looked at the man behind the counter. She recognized him from her excursion the night before.

  "Vodka," she said.

  "Sure," he said. He poured a shot and slid it over. "Six dollars."

  "For a shot?" Chloe asked.

  "For you," he said.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  The man grinned at her. "It means that you shouldn't be here at all, and since you are, you can pay six dollars for that shot of vodka, or you can go find somewhere else to spend the evening."

  "Whatever," Chloe said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a crumpled wad of bills. She counted six out and laid them on the counter. Then she took the shot, downed it, and slammed the glass back on the counter.

  She turned to the woman next to her. "You're not planning on sticking around, are you?"

  The woman ignored her. She had filthy hair, chipped nails, and a muffin top that showed under her skin-tight blouse.

  "Hey," Chloe said loudly. "I'm talking to you."

  "You don't want to be causing
trouble here," the bartender said.

  "I'll get to you in a minute," Chloe told him. She tapped the woman on the shoulder. Finally, the woman acknowledged her. Her eyes were blood-shot from the alcohol, and she had a nasty looking scowl on her face. For a moment, Chloe fully expected to get slapped or punched. She welcomed the fight.

  Instead, the woman scowled at her. "The hell do you want, little girl?"

  "I want you to get out of here," Chloe said.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Things are going to get ugly," Chloe said. "And you don't want to be around for that."

  The bartender leaned forward. "It's time for you to leave, little girl. I won't have you causing trouble here."

  Chloe turned back to him. "Yeah," she said. "You told me that already. You should really learn some new phrases. Not that you'll have a chance. Look, the lady doesn't need to get hurt. She's not part of this. This is between you and me, and your bouncer."

  "Oh is it now?"

  "Oh, yes," Chloe said.

  The bartender stared at her for a moment and then turned to the woman. "Go on, Clarissa. Clear out of here."

  "Are you kidding me?" the older woman asked.

  "No," the bartender said.

  Clarissa turned back to Chloe. "I don't know what kind of issue you got, but you're messing up my evening. I don't like that. Let's me and you take this outside. I'll show you how we do it around these parts and if you're still in any condition to drink afterward, maybe I'll even buy you a shot."

  Chloe shook her head. "Just get out."

  Clarissa looked ready to fight, but the bartender signaled the bouncer, who came over in a hurry. "Show Clarissa out," he said.

  "Are you kidding me?" she asked. "I drink here every damned night!"

  "Come on," the bouncer said. "You heard the man."

  Clarissa left, but not after spitting on Chloe. Chloe wanted to smack her, but refrained. She had other things to deal with tonight.

  The bartender straightened himself, cocking his head to the side. "We have business, you and I?"

  "That's right," Chloe said. She walked over to the bar door, locked it, and turned back to the bartender and bouncer. "You two are about to pay for your many, many sins."