Marked In Flesh (The Others #4) - Anne Bishop Page 0,26
to send information. But just before she disconnected the call, he said, “Is there anyplace in your town where travelers can stay?”
“There’s a motel at the edge of town, connected to the truck stop and diner. Most folks who come here are guests of a family and stay with them.”
“Good to know. We’ll be in touch. I’ll tell Simon about the bison meat.” Vlad hung up.
“We should help with the meat.” Joe looked around, turned on his heel, and walked out of the store.
With a nod to her, Tobias turned to follow Joe.
“You be careful, son,” Jesse said.
He looked back at her as he reached for the door. “Always. You do the same.”
Jesse poured another glass of lemonade for herself and Shelley. “When you heard the name Sanguinati, you spooked like cattle in a storm. Why?”
Shelley drank half the glass before replying. “A form of terra indigene that drinks blood. There were rumors around the town where I went to school that the university was a hunting ground for a few of the Sanguinati. No deaths could be linked to them. In fact, a few girls would show off hickies they claimed were a ‘special’ kind of love bite. No one could prove that either. But there were a few young men around the campus who were very good-looking, and I heard they were quite skilled in making a girl feel very, very good.”
“So you didn’t actually talk to one of these young men?”
Shelley’s smile held the bitterness of old wounds. “No. I wasn’t anyone’s type—not even a vampire’s.” She set the glass down. “I’ll see you later. Thanks for the lemonade.”
Jesse put the pitcher back in the cooler and cleared the counter of the other three glasses. Then she looked around her store. What did Joe Wolfgard see when he and the other terra indigene came in here? What did he and the Others want or need that she could supply? And Vladimir Sanguinati, so very far away. Maybe not far enough?
No way to know yet. But she had a feeling they were all going to find out soon enough.
• • •
Vlad idly looked at the books on the display table and front shelves. Were the two bookstores and libraries in Ferryman’s Landing having the same problem ordering stock as Prairie Gold? And they had the rolling library too, a bus that went to the Simple Life community on Great Island as well as stopping in the spots where the Others on the island had built basic structures that were needed when they were in human form. They wanted books too. Maybe Meg could be in charge of handling book requests from Ferryman’s Landing and Prairie Gold. They might as well include Sweetwater while they were at it. He and Simon would continue ordering for HGR and the terra indigene in the land surrounding Lakeside, while Meg handled the other places and gave them a list.
Something to think about. For now . . .
Vlad went to the stock room and returned with an empty cart. Doubtful the humans in Prairie Gold had read any books written by terra indigene. He’d talk to Simon before boxing up a selection. After all, he didn’t want to cause trouble for Joe Wolfgard by terrifying the Intuits.
They still had a number of kissy books that he and Simon had pulled off the shelves. He could throw in a few of those and let Librarian Shelley tell him what kinds of books were popular with her people.
The timing didn’t fit. That’s what bothered him. The cassandra sangue spoke prophecy; their visions were warnings about something that could happen, not something that had happened. Except when something past provided context or reference for something coming.
Had Hope been making a vision drawing of dead bison at the same time the animals were being shot? Or had she seen something else, and Joe’s dead bison weren’t the same as the bison Hope had drawn? And why had the girl been so frightened that she’d cut herself? No, she said she’d cut because she needed the color. She’d needed to paint blood. But once she made the cut, what else did she see?
No, the timing didn’t fit. And there were questions that needed to be asked—and answered.
“What are you doing?” Simon asked as he walked into the front part of Howling Good Reads.
“Pulling a book request.”
Simon looked at the books on the top shelf of the cart. “Who’s buying that many books?”