Whiskey, Vamps, and Thieves (Southern Vampire Detective #1) by Selene Charles

Author:Selene Charles [Charles, Selene]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Amazon: B01LBEAR4W
Goodreads: 31812064
Publisher: Selene Charles Publishing
Published: 2016-08-29T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Scarlett

Carter drove us out of shifter territory a fair distance, but the moment he took the first left off Main Street, passing Buella’s diner, I had a sick feeling run through my gut.

I tried to tell myself it was just nerves, but I’d been working the beat long enough to trust my instincts. I’d tried getting Carter to talk, but all he’d kept saying was, “I’m sorry, Scar.”

I’d said no more after that. I didn’t want to know who it was. Didn’t want to deal with death on a personal level. There weren’t many people in my life—Veiler or otherwise—I cared about enough for Carter to say he was sorry. I knew it wasn’t a shifter. I’d have heard the wails the moment I woke up.

The options of who it could be were narrowed to a dangerously tiny field.

The moment he turned onto Cherry Lane, though, I felt all the blood in my body threaten to come up. I laid my hand against my belly, pressing in as though trying to suffocate the scream waiting to be birthed.

I already knew.

I already knew.

“Oh God,” I moaned. “Oh God, Carter. Please don’t tell me.”

Still he wouldn’t look at me.

In the movies, when the cops were walking up the long driveway and they were quiet, and the sad music was playing softly in the background but the protagonist was inside the house and laughing, eating, living—little knowing that in seconds their entire world was about to be rocked—the viewers were already sad because they knew what those unsuspecting people didn’t.

That was me, and that was Carter.

He hadn’t said a word to me because he hadn’t known what to say.

The shakes started slowly at first but soon intensified, spreading from my calves, to my thighs, to my stomach, until finally I was shuddering my breaths and clutching onto the door handle, ready to rip the door off its hinges and fly out of there.

He parked on the long driveway, behind a maroon Jeep with faux wood trim. It’d been my very first car. It was also where I’d lost my virginity to Boo after prom.

Mama and Daddy had kept it in showroom condition; it gleamed from a fresh coat of wax.

“Scar,” Carter said softly.

Not Smith, not Scarlet, but Scar. The only time he’d ever called me that was when we’d been intimate and the world had ceased to exist for us. I swallowed hard.

Blinking through the fog of memories, I shook my head, staring at him numbly. He blew out a heavy breath, looking straight ahead as he tapped his fingers on the wheel.

“I thought that maybe you could come here and identify them rather than in the morgue.”

I shook my head and snorted. “Don’t kid yourself, Carter. You didn’t invite me here to be kind. You brought me here to try to get a hit. You’re a fucking prick.”

Maybe he didn’t deserve my rage. Maybe tomorrow I’d feel like a bastard for taking it out on him, but I didn’t care right now.

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