Read Online The Dark Side by M. J. Scott - Free Book Online Page B

him pretty damned determined. I didn’t want another argument. Plus, a small part of me couldn’t shake off the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Dan was right.
    I was trying to work out how to say ‘please try not to piss off my new client too badly’ without starting an argument when my cell rang. Jase. Finally. A smile of relief spread across my face as I answered. “Where were you?”
    “I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you,” he said with a laugh. “What’s up?”
    The sound of his voice made me feel like I could breathe again.
Safe
. “I’ll tell you when you get here.”
    * * *
    By the time Dan’s team arrived, so had Jase. He called me from the office.
    “I’m here. What’s all the commotion down there?”
    “I’ll be up in a minute.” I didn’t want to tell Jase about a vamp suicide over the phone. Most vamps didn’t like to talk about even the possibility of dying.
    “I’ve checked the messages. Your aunt called already.”
    Aunt Bug? Crap, had she seen something on TV about the suicide? I scanned the crowd and sure enough, there were several pairs of microphone-toting reporters and cameramen. Crap. No doubt there’d be some sensational story on the news already. Or a video on YouTube. There were always people willing to stir up tension between humans and supernaturals. “Did she say what it was about?”
    He sighed. “The memorial, what else?”
    Oh God. The memorial. I’d forgotten. Next week was the thirteenth anniversary of the Caldwell massacre. The night McCallister Tate had slaughtered thirty people in my hometown.
    Including my family. And my best friend.
    Damn.
    “Give me two minutes.” I hung up and told Dan where I was going. Then walked across the street, trying not to think about the memorial. Which was about as successful as you’d expect.
    Every year Caldwell held a service for the victims and my aunt insisted I go, even though I hated it. This year was going to be worse. This year, they were trying to make me into some sort of hero because I’d killed Tate.
    If they’d known the details, they wouldn’t be so impressed. Biting someone’s head off—literally—is not so heroic for your average person. But the FBI had kept the specifics of the death quiet and just released pictures of Tate’s coffin being delivered to the crematorium for incineration.
    Better safe than sorry, even with no head.
    To the general populace of Caldwell, I was the one who’d finally brought some closure to a lot of shattered lives.
    Someone to be admired.
    But given that most of them had an aversion to supernaturals close-up, I wasn’t sure I wanted them to know all the gory details. Particularly the fact that I was a werewolf now. I wasn’t sure how far that little piece of news had traveled.
    Or what my reception would be like once the town knew the truth.
    Which was why I didn’t want to go.
    And why I’d been avoiding my aunt.
    * * *
    Jase was waiting for me with coffee and a lot of rapid-fire questions about what was going on downstairs.
    I took the coffee and drained half the cup, trying to kick-start my brain. The thirty seconds or so didn’t really reveal a brilliant way to avoid telling Jase the truth so I just said “Vampire suicide.”
    Jase went pale. On him pale is
very
pale.
    “Hey.” I reached out to grab his hand. His skin was cool under my fingers and I wanted to warm him up. But you can’t warm a vampire. “It’s okay.”
    He nodded but his color didn’t come back and his eyes turned toward the window. “Sunrise?”
    I nodded, wondering what he was thinking. Jase had chosen to become a vampire when he’d been diagnosed with terminal cancer at twenty-three. Suicide wasn’t a concept that sat well with him. All life was good. “Seems that way.”
    “Do they know who it was?”
    “No, there’s no ID. The Taskforce will look into it.” I had no idea how you tracked down a missing vampire. I sipped more coffee, waited for the next question.
    His