Angel: Private Eye Book One

  Chapter 10

  I winced.

  I winced as I curled protectively over my coffee cup and tried but failed not to make eye contact with Benson.

  I’d barely made it two blocks from Sarah’s apartment before he’d called me up on the phone. I tried to fob him off, God knows I tried to tell him that I was fine and safely tucked up in Mr. Marvelous’ shop, but the brute hadn’t believed me. Literally five minutes later, a swanky Lamborghini sports car had pulled up beside me, and William bloody Benson III had rolled down the window to stare at me pointedly.

  While any normal girl would have run from that stare, reluctantly, dejectedly, I’d parked, got out of my car, and got into his. Then, in virtual silence, he’d driven me to a cafe.

  Now he was sitting there, those big beautiful shoulders of his relaxed as he stared at me.

  And it was a solid stare. It was no passing glance. As Benson locked his gaze on me, it was absolutely like he was undressing me and paring back every scrap of flesh.

  I let out a soft groan as I hunched even further over my coffee cup and winced.

  “Though I appreciate we don’t exactly have a relationship based on trust, I expect you to tell the truth on issues of safety,” Benson finally said.

  I winced even harder, blinking my eyes closed only to carefully curl one open and realize that, yes, he was still sitting there, and yes, he still looked deadly.

  “I appreciate the past several days have been somewhat trying for you, Miss Luck, but trust me when I say this is not a game. You cannot take Theodore Van Edgerton’s interest in you lightly,” as Benson spoke, his lips darted hard around each word, his canines glistening as if he was somehow trying to suck the blood from the conversation.

  I gave up on my coffee and wrapped my arms dejectedly around my middle.

  He leaned in, locked an elbow on the cast iron table and shifted forward until he was barely a few inches from my face. The prospect of William Benson’s perfect visage was the only thing that stopped me from whimpering. Instead, it saw the breath catch in my throat.

  “Can I ask a question?” Benson suddenly said.

  I winced as I looked up at him. “What?” I hazarded.

  He was still pressed right up close in front of me. Close enough, that I could see the exact, pressured look in his gaze. “Are you taking this seriously yet, Miss Luck?”

  Though I wanted to wince at his repeated, irritating use of Miss Luck, I didn’t. Couldn’t. I couldn’t look away from the god-awful serious look crumbling his brow.

  “Because if you aren’t taking this seriously, I suggest you begin. Now.” He pretty much stabbed a finger into the table. It actually shuddered under his light move as if he’d struck it. That was nothing, however, compared to how much I crumpled.

  “Are you somehow under the impression that Theodore Van Edgerton is not taking this seriously? Do you for some reason believe he’s going to wake up tomorrow and suddenly lose interest in you?”

  I grimaced and shuddered.

  “No. I assure you, Theodore is taking this seriously, just as you should be. This may be your first foray into the world of vampires, Miss Luck, but I assure you unless you stop acting like an idiot, it will be your last. Now tell me, why did you leave the shop and what happened?”

  I crumpled under his terrifying words and terrifying gaze. “I accidentally signed a contract with a vampire,” I crammed a hand over my mouth and whispered through my sweaty fingers.

  Benson frowned. “Accidentally?” he questioned as he bared his canines at me. “I’ll ask how you accidentally did it in a moment. First, tell me what the contract stipulates.”

  I squirmed. Right now, I would welcome a world-ending catastrophe. Maybe a tsunami, maybe an enormous meteorite squashing the city. Anything to get out of telling Benson what I’d done.

  “Lizzie,” he said in a truly threatening tone. But nothing, however, was as threatening as the use of my first name.

  I squeaked, just like the mouse he always accused me of being.

  “I signed a contract with another vampire to kill Theodore Van Edgerton,” I crammed the words out of my mouth, sucking in several breaths once I was finished as if I’d just saved myself from drowning.

  Which I hadn’t.

  Because when I was done, William Benson threw me the kind of look that told me he was going to chuck me in the river.

  He shifted backward, moving his arms in front of his chest in a terrifyingly slow move. “You,” he paused, “Accidentally,” he paused again, “Signed a contract,” another long, edgy pause, “To kill Theodore Van Edgerton.”

  I shoved my elbows onto the table and collapsed into my palms. “Yes,” I sighed into my hands.

  For several seconds he said nothing and did nothing. It took me a heckuva long time to gather the courage to peek out from between my fingers.

  I didn’t even want to begin to describe the way he was looking at me. Words couldn’t do the consternation and anger crumpling his brow justice.

  He pared back his lips and hissed like a snake warning off a predator. “How exactly did you accidentally sign this contract?”

  I whinnied to myself like a horse who’d just broken her leg. “A vampire showed up at my apartment, and Sarah called me. I rushed over, and the vampire begged me to help her. She was terrified for her life. I felt so sorry for her. And before I knew what I was agreeing to, I’d already signed the contract.” I crumpled into my hands again. It was infinitely better than staring at his hard, terrifying expression.

  “You felt sorry for some vampire,” he repeated, the movements of his lips precise as they shifted around each word.

  I nodded frantically, hair bunching up and messing over my shoulders.

  “It took the threat of prison to get you to sign a contract with me, Elizabeth Luck. Tell me, what vampire captured your heart and managed to make you sign your life away?” he asked through a snarl. Maybe, just maybe there was a hint of jealousy playing through William Benson’s impossibly cold, steely blue eyes.

  Ah, who was I kidding? It was just more undiluted anger.

  “She didn’t capture my heart,” I protested through a wheeze. “She showed up at my old apartment. My flatmate called me in tears. I rushed over, and the vampire, she promised to give me the name of Susan Smith’s killer if only I signed a contract. She seemed scared. Terrified even. I don’t know,” I shrugged a hand over the back of my head and scratched viciously at my scalp. “I felt sorry for her.”

  “You felt sorry for her, so you agreed to kill one of the most powerful vampires in the city?” he summarized with an awful blank expression.

  As he stared at me with that nonplussed gaze, I suddenly realized that his rage was better. Because when he was visibly angry, I didn’t have to guess what he was thinking. Now I had no idea what devious thoughts were running through Benson’s mind.

  “No,” I stuttered, “I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. All she said was that she wanted my help to get away from Theodore. The next thing I know, I’d signed the contract, and she tells me that I have to kill him,” I squeaked.

  Benson brought a hand up and covered his eyes for a fraction of a second. When he let the hand drop, he locked me in an unmistakable look. It was the kind of look you shot the most pathetic stupid creature in the world. “You signed the contract without reading it?”

  I winced. I dropped my gaze to the table and nodded.

  Silence. An edgy silence filtered between us, and Benson no doubt counted the ways he could make me pay for this.

  After all, he’d specifically contracted me not to kill any vampires. So what had I done? Gone and signed a bloody contract to kill one.

  As I realized how horribly bad this was, I crammed a thumb into my mouth and chewed it as if I had every intention of biting off my whole arm. “This is bad, this is bad. I know it’s bad. But please believe me when I say I didn’t know what I was signing. I know I’m not meant to kill any vampires,” I let out a burst of nervous
laughter like a car exhaust playing up, “And it’s not like I’ll even be able to lay a finger on Theodore. I’ll just… find some way to break the contract. I can do that, right?” Reluctantly I pulled my thumb from my teeth and stared at Benson, misplaced hope crumpling my brow.

  Benson stretched out a hand, locked it on the table, and started to drum his fingers. One by one. You think a ticking clock on a bomb is ominous? Try listening to this. So much terror pulsed through my heart I was pretty sure I was seconds from passing out.

  Before I could, Benson ground his teeth together and sighed. “I suggest from now on you read what you sign. Did you catch the name of the vampire who contracted you?”

  Wincing even harder and trying to hide under my hand, I shook my head.

  “Of course not,” he said in an exasperated tone. “Why would you look for a simple little detail like that? No matter.” He held a hand out to me. “She would have given you a copy of the contract. She is legally obliged to. Now hand it over.”

  Having exactly no option but to comply, I shrugged a hand into the inside pocket of my trench coat and pulled out the contract. At least I tried to. First I pulled out the binoculars, then I brought out a half-eaten sandwich.

  Starting to blush with embarrassment, I shoved my hand as far into my pocket as it would go and grasped the parchment.

  Bashfully, not making eye contact, I gave it to him.

  He snapped it open, read it, then pressed it flat on the table with a white, stiff hand. “Her name is Betty McLeod.”

  “Oh.”

  “And you’re wrong.”

  “W-wrong?”

  “There’ll be no way to break this contract. She’s inserted a little of her soul into this deal. The scrap of her soul will bind you to this contract. If you try to break it, her soul will break you. And before you ask – the answer is no. You do not have the magic to fight this spell. Or at least you shouldn’t,” he appeared to add to himself under his breath. “Worse, there is a time condition included in the fine print. You have until the next full moon – which is in precisely one week – to end Van Edgerton’s life.”

  My head started to spin. “So… so what does that mean?”

  “It means, Lizzie,” he steepled his fingers, “You have to kill Theodore.”

  A buzzing started to fill my ears as if locusts were swarming in my head. “K-kill him? Isn’t there a way out of the contract?”

  He shook his head. It was a short, almost brutal move. “You have to kill him in seven days, or you will be killed by a scrap of Betty’s soul.”

  I locked a hand over my mouth and stopped breathing.

  I… I started to black out, head tilting to the side as I lost my balance.

  Before I could keel over and take my coffee with me, Benson snapped out a hand and grabbed mine. He wrapped his warm, large, strong fingers around my own.

  And anchored me there. The buzzing stopped. My thoughts stopped swarming and choking me. And my balance settled.

  I was stunned by the powerful effect of something as simple as his touch.

  “Now is not the time to black out. Go home, Lizzie. I’ll take you there myself.”

  “My– my car is parked back there.”

  “The beast? It’ll find its own way home.”

  “Oh,” I said, trying not to be too overcome by the warm fuzzy feeling filling me up like a hot cup of cocoa on a cold night.

  It was him. Oh, Christ, it was all him. Benson’s mere touch was like your first teaspoon of sugar after eating lemons your whole life.

  “Come on.” He turned and led me forward.

  “But… but what will I do?”

  He stopped, turned, and looked right at me. “I’ll deal with it,” he promised.

  Oh god, I could have melted into his arms.

  Maybe he was a little worried that I’d try, as he cleared his throat and took a pointed step backward. “For now, go home and sleep. Tomorrow, I will come for you.”

  I went suitably gooey at that promise.

  Then William Benson took me home.