Tainted Blood (Hell's Belle Book 2) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Karen Greco
touch of class."
Was I getting decorating advice from a ghost?
"You can't stay here," I repeated, adding more force behind the words.
"Yes, I can," he insisted. "Please allow me to introduce myself. H.P. Lovecraft."
My eyes went wide, and I think I gasped.
His mouth tugged down even more at the ends. It was like a smile but in the totally wrong direction. It fit.
"So you should be grateful that I like this place. And you must be Nina. Yes, I've heard about you," he said, as a knowing smirk spread across his face.
"Yeah, from who?" I crossed my arms and glared at him. This ghost was getting my dander up, which was dangerous. Ghosts fed off of strong emotions. If I got pissed, he'd get stronger.
"From Cruz." He sat down, stretching his legs out on the table. He removed his gloves, one finger at a time.
"Cruz?" I shook the cobwebs out of my head. Cruz. That was Casper's real name. I started calling him Casper when I didn't know his name, and it sort of stuck. "Where did you see Cruz?"
"The library," he said matter-of-factly.
"The library," I snorted. "What library?"
"The Rock. I would like a Gin Fizz please?"
The Rockefeller Library at Brown University. Of course. Once we executed Marcello, the serial witch-killing vampire that turned Cruz, the man, into Casper, the ghost, I visited Casper's mom. Casper was a smart kid with a promising future. He was going to Brown on a full scholarship to study anthropology with a minor in religion. His family was from Veracruz, like my mom's, and he came from a long line of curanderos — white witches or shamans. His mother was steeped in the art of witchcraft, so it was an interesting afternoon. At first she was upset that his spirit was hanging on, but I let Casper hop in my body to talk to her. Weird as it was, I think it gave her some relief.
So Casper was hanging out at the library with H.P. Lovecraft. When would my life stop shocking me?
Lovecraft snapped his fingers at me, jarring me out of my thoughts.
"No, I will not get you a Gin Fizz," I said, rolling my eyes.
"This is a bar, isn't it?" he scoffed.
"You can't drink. You're a ghost."
"Cruz said you'd say that." He scowled at me. He was definitely a sour ghost. "Oh! Someone's coming! And you don't like him very much." A puff of air hit my face when Lovecraft disappeared into the wall.
The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention when I heard the door open. I didn't even have to turn around to know that it was Providence's very own demon mayor, Ami Bertrand, and his undead sidekick, my Uncle Tavio.
"Nina!" Tavio's thick Italian accent made his voice mellifluous.
"Oh crap! Here we go," Alfonso grumbled loudly from his stool at the bar with the shot of tequila he was sipping paused at his mouth. "This is no good."
"Tavio. Mr. Mayor," I nodded a curt greeting at them, but my uncle had other ideas. He crossed the room towards me, arms extended. I ducked around him, leaving him to hug the air.
"You look much better, Ms. Martinez." Bertrand's voice poured over me like silk, and I shivered. I saw him right after Frankie, Max and I took down Marcello. I looked like crap then, which was understandable since Marcello had nearly killed me.
"Yes, I’ve healed," I said, as I shrugged and climbed back to the other side of the bar, grateful for the thick slab of wood in between us. "Are you ordering anything? Or are you just popping around to annoy me?"
Alfonso guffawed loudly and swallowed his tequila. Bertrand brushed the seat of the bar stool off with a handkerchief before sitting. He was impeccably dressed, as usual, in a slate grey Burberry wool trench coat and soft leather gloves. With close cropped silvering hair and vivid dark eyes, he was striking. A huge part of Bertrand’s success was owed to his model-handsome looks. He was the perfect politician.
I poured Al another shot and filled a second glass for myself. I was probably going to need it. "So what do you want, Tavio?"
"Grappa, please," he
Was I getting decorating advice from a ghost?
"You can't stay here," I repeated, adding more force behind the words.
"Yes, I can," he insisted. "Please allow me to introduce myself. H.P. Lovecraft."
My eyes went wide, and I think I gasped.
His mouth tugged down even more at the ends. It was like a smile but in the totally wrong direction. It fit.
"So you should be grateful that I like this place. And you must be Nina. Yes, I've heard about you," he said, as a knowing smirk spread across his face.
"Yeah, from who?" I crossed my arms and glared at him. This ghost was getting my dander up, which was dangerous. Ghosts fed off of strong emotions. If I got pissed, he'd get stronger.
"From Cruz." He sat down, stretching his legs out on the table. He removed his gloves, one finger at a time.
"Cruz?" I shook the cobwebs out of my head. Cruz. That was Casper's real name. I started calling him Casper when I didn't know his name, and it sort of stuck. "Where did you see Cruz?"
"The library," he said matter-of-factly.
"The library," I snorted. "What library?"
"The Rock. I would like a Gin Fizz please?"
The Rockefeller Library at Brown University. Of course. Once we executed Marcello, the serial witch-killing vampire that turned Cruz, the man, into Casper, the ghost, I visited Casper's mom. Casper was a smart kid with a promising future. He was going to Brown on a full scholarship to study anthropology with a minor in religion. His family was from Veracruz, like my mom's, and he came from a long line of curanderos — white witches or shamans. His mother was steeped in the art of witchcraft, so it was an interesting afternoon. At first she was upset that his spirit was hanging on, but I let Casper hop in my body to talk to her. Weird as it was, I think it gave her some relief.
So Casper was hanging out at the library with H.P. Lovecraft. When would my life stop shocking me?
Lovecraft snapped his fingers at me, jarring me out of my thoughts.
"No, I will not get you a Gin Fizz," I said, rolling my eyes.
"This is a bar, isn't it?" he scoffed.
"You can't drink. You're a ghost."
"Cruz said you'd say that." He scowled at me. He was definitely a sour ghost. "Oh! Someone's coming! And you don't like him very much." A puff of air hit my face when Lovecraft disappeared into the wall.
The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention when I heard the door open. I didn't even have to turn around to know that it was Providence's very own demon mayor, Ami Bertrand, and his undead sidekick, my Uncle Tavio.
"Nina!" Tavio's thick Italian accent made his voice mellifluous.
"Oh crap! Here we go," Alfonso grumbled loudly from his stool at the bar with the shot of tequila he was sipping paused at his mouth. "This is no good."
"Tavio. Mr. Mayor," I nodded a curt greeting at them, but my uncle had other ideas. He crossed the room towards me, arms extended. I ducked around him, leaving him to hug the air.
"You look much better, Ms. Martinez." Bertrand's voice poured over me like silk, and I shivered. I saw him right after Frankie, Max and I took down Marcello. I looked like crap then, which was understandable since Marcello had nearly killed me.
"Yes, I’ve healed," I said, as I shrugged and climbed back to the other side of the bar, grateful for the thick slab of wood in between us. "Are you ordering anything? Or are you just popping around to annoy me?"
Alfonso guffawed loudly and swallowed his tequila. Bertrand brushed the seat of the bar stool off with a handkerchief before sitting. He was impeccably dressed, as usual, in a slate grey Burberry wool trench coat and soft leather gloves. With close cropped silvering hair and vivid dark eyes, he was striking. A huge part of Bertrand’s success was owed to his model-handsome looks. He was the perfect politician.
I poured Al another shot and filled a second glass for myself. I was probably going to need it. "So what do you want, Tavio?"
"Grappa, please," he
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