Exes and Exorcisms: Forbidden Fangs, #2
By Keira Blackwood and Liza Street
3/5
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About this ebook
It's vampires versus shifters in this rollicking Forbidden tale of exes and enemies turned lovers.
On the hunt for a vampire with a gift for spreading disease, wolf shifter Xavier finds himself in a magical little town full of shifters. His mission is clear: stake the vampire and any others who get in his way. Ever since his girlfriend's death at the hands of a bloodsucker, he's set on taking out the vampires of North America.
"Clairvoyant" Kelly is torn between running away and staying in place when she learns her ex-boyfriend—a bossy, overprotective, overbearing shifter—is coming to Forbidden. Unfortunately, her gift of visions doesn't tell her how much time she has to escape...and if she does leave, how can she protect her friends?
When Kelly and Xavier meet again, it's a battle of banter and a war of wits. May the best vampire--or vampire hunter--win. There's a lot at stake...get it?
The snark and steam soar in the second Forbidden Fangs novel brought to you by USA Today bestselling authors Keira Blackwood and Liza Street! If you love shmexy shenanigans and hilarious hijinks, buy your copy today!
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Exes and Exorcisms - Keira Blackwood
1
Xavier
S he Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy
serenaded customers sitting in their booths eating ribeyes bigger than their faces. The chorus garbled and cracked like the speakers were underwater. Along with the bloody aroma of searing meat, the air was filled with sweat, cedar, and humans.
Whoever owns this place can’t spell, but they sure can fry up a fine slab of beef,
a middle-aged man said to his companion as I passed by their table. He tapped his finger on his napkin where the restaurant’s name was printed.
The man across from him tipped his cowboy hat and muttered something unintelligible, with his overstuffed cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk’s.
The Stakehouse wasn’t spelled that way because of a mistake. The sirloins were a front for the real business.
It would have been obvious to anyone who knew anything about vampires or weaponry. But none of the patrons ever seemed to catch on. Wooden stakes graced the walls—deadly decor arranged into peg art. One wall bore a configuration of stakes that formed an outline of the state map of Tennessee. Sadly, no one seemed to get that one, even though Tennessee happened to be the state they lived in.
Other displays were recognized more often, like one everyone guessed was meant to be a cow. When I looked at it, all I saw was the Cliffs of Insanity from my all time favorite film, The Princess Bride. Don’t ask me how a cow and a cliff look the same, but my guess was the cow was on its back, legs up in the air.
With a nod to the chef, I headed through the kitchen and straight into the freezer. Inside the walk-in were shelves of meats and fixin’s. The keypad I needed to access was behind the giant vats of pork ’n’ beans. The freezer hummed, blurring out the sounds of the kitchen and dining rooms. Even with my shifter hearing, all I could detect was my own heartbeat over the white noise. My breath looked like a stream of fog seeping away from my nose in front of me.
I reached back along the wall until my fingers met the upraised buttons. The combination was eight-zero-zero-eight-five, boobs on a calculator. Just like the pork ’n’ beans, and the stake pun for a business name, Clyde thought he was clever for coming up with the code.
The back wall was a secret door no one would notice if they didn’t know to look for it. As soon as it opened, I stepped through.
The room reminded me of a cave. Dank, dark, and damp. This was the true Stakehouse. It was little more than a lounge and an arsenal. As the headquarters for a ragtag group of vampire hunters, it was also the only place I’d felt at home in a long time.
There were other Stakehouses throughout the US, but this one was where I’d landed after tragedy struck.
The place was abuzz tonight, which meant more than one other person was present. Also, it meant some level of excitement beyond the usual stories of victory.
Three guys who had been around a while, but I only knew in passing, were huddled around Clyde. The big one—a bear shifter—was laughing, his barrel chest heaving up and down with a very Santa-like ho ho ho.
Xavier.
Clyde waved me over. You’re going to want to hear this.
Chances were good I wouldn’t. Still, I joined the group, stepping in beside Clyde. His responsibilities mostly involved gathering information...and being a huge pain in my ass. He believed his knowledge gave him leadership qualities, which meant he was the most inept micromanager to grace the state of Tennessee. Regardless of his real skills, people called to tell him when there was a rumor about a bloodsucker on the eastern third of the United States, and Clyde passed that information along to one of us hunters. Some jobs paid, either by a town looking to clear a nest, or by the riches the immortal bastards collected during their savage existences. Those jobs were picked up quick.
I liked the other jobs—the ones no one else wanted to take. In those jobs, the only satisfaction was in the slaughter—and the slaughter was all I was really after.
They said revenge was a dish best served cold. That was true. It was also best served rare and bloody.
Tell him from the beginning,
Clyde told one of the other hunters—a squirrely guy, with big eyes and a nervous twitch.
There was something cruel about the squirrely guy’s eyes.
Xavier, right?
he asked.
I nodded.
I’ve heard about you. Personal mission, secret motivation, right?
I didn’t reply.
Your type—it’s always something to do with a woman. Who was it that they killed? Mama? Sister? Your mate?
His lip curled, revealing a set of yellowed teeth.
Girlfriend. But I didn’t answer.
Clyde kicked him. Stop being a prick, Austin, and tell him about the job.
Heard from a friend who knows a guy. Third cousin’s grandma’s sister’s kid’s uncle.
I stared at Austin. Either he was trying to piss me off or he was just an idiot. I didn’t care which. I just wanted the details so I could get this interaction over with as quickly as possible.
His best friend’s ex, twice removed,
Austin said.
How can an ex be twice removed?
the bear asked. This is a load of bull.
Austin raised a finger to the bear’s lips and pressed, while he continued explaining a line of people who may or may not exist. Clyde smirked and shook his head.
Austin said, Found a man chopped in half.
I crossed my arms. And?
All the guy’s blood was drained. Telltale sign,
Austin said. Some redhead was heading out to bury the body in the woods.
I turned to Clyde. I thought you said you had something for me.
I’m getting to the good part,
Austin said. Patience is a virtue and whatnot.
They say there were teeth marks, and vampires have been confirmed in the area,
Clyde said.
If Clyde said it was confirmed, it was true.
Where?
I asked.
Forbidden, Kentucky,
Austin said. Shifter territory. Lots of weird shit happens there.
I didn’t care if it would be a complicated mission. I wouldn’t be satisfied until every immortal monster had been eliminated.
I’ll do it.
2
Kelly
Gazing down at the felines cavorting in the alley, I decided that Snowball was going to become a problem.
It was obvious her dramatics would introduce another betrayal. What I couldn’t tell yet, and what I avidly watched to discover, was whether that betrayal would come in the form of spurning her current lover, Meowcus Anthony, for His Lordship King Snugglebumpkins, or whether the betrayal would revolve around bringing in another cat to their soap-opera-style kitten shenanigans.
Darkness fell over the alley, plunging it into shadow. Portions of the stage were lit only by a far-off streetlamp. That wasn’t a problem for me; with my nighttime vampire vision, I could see just fine.
His Lordship King Snugglebumpkins gave a lazy-sounding meow as Snowball approached. Her tail was in the air like the strumpet she was and her gaze flicked back and forth. Ostensibly, she was here for His Lordship King Snugglebumpkins, but Meowcus Anthony lurked off to the side, the wanker. He was a tabby, gray and black striped, with a glossy coat that should have put to shame the scraggly black coat of His Lordship. However, what His Lordship lacked in polish, he more than made up for in swagger.
I see what you’re doing, Meowcus,
I said, gripping the edge of the window frame. Thirst made my throat tight. I needed to go out and find some unfortunate Forbidden resident to sip blood from, but I was too wrapped up in the soap opera playing below. There were a few bags of stolen hospital blood languishing in the refrigerator, so perhaps I would make do with one of those.
Tearing myself away from the view in the alley, I marched to the fridge and grabbed a bag of blood. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as drinking from the source, but I preferred it to leaving the sanctuary of my small apartment. The tattoo parlor was closed today because it was my day off and Marla was away with her new mate, Grayson. I could stay home and enjoy a brief holiday. Plus, I’d had a vision that my shifter ex was on his way to Forbidden. If I didn’t leave the building, I wouldn’t have to see him. Win win.
Rather than doing the civilized thing and pouring the blood into a glass, I punctured it with my fangs and drank straight from the plastic. While I sucked the bag dry, I flipped on the radio. I’d found the antiquated piece of equipment in the alley one night and I’d liked the look of it, like it had been fashioned in the eighties. To my surprise, when I’d put in some batteries, it still worked. When the quiet got to be too much for me, I’d turn it on and listen to the local stations. Now that it was late, I got to listen to Yelling Man’s garbled voice. I immediately had to turn down the volume, because, as usual, he was yelling.
This guy seemed to be a staple personality in this little town. Today, he shouted about demons creeping amongst us.
"They’re sneaky! They’re insidious! They’re inconceivable!"
I do not think that word means what you think it means,
I murmured, because The Princess Bride was everything, as far as I was concerned.
While Yelling Man’s rants echoed through the apartment, I tossed my empty blood bag into the waste bin and made my way back to the window. Truly, I ought to get more of a life. Or rather, an undead life. With Marla and her one true love, Grayson, off visiting his nephew, I’d been reduced to making up stories about alley cats. I’d met a few of the shifters that lived in town, but I hadn’t put in much effort yet to build any bonds. If I was going to make this place my home, I’d need to do that. I was fond of Cordelia, the town’s witch, so I’d probably start there.
Snowball sat in the center of the alley and licked a paw.
I see what you’re doing, you little hussy,
I whispered.
Both His Lordship and Meowcus