Vampires, Whiskey, and Southern Charm (Masie Kicklighter #1) Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Tags Authors: Series: Masie Kicklighter Series by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
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Why was he acting weird, like we were being watched?

As he left the exam room, he added, “Take it easy, Masie. I’ll be rooting for you.”

I frowned as he shut the door behind him.

“Rootin’ for me?” I muttered.

My cell rang, and I slid it from my pocket. The caller was unknown. I usually didn’t answer those, but I thought it might be the police trying to reach me.

“Hello?”

A slow, deep voice came over the line. “Are you all right?”

My blood pressure hit the floor, and my heart skipped a beat. “Who is this?” I asked, but I knew darn well who that voice belonged to. I just didn’t want to accept it. Because if I did, it meant the gory scene last night had been real. The blood on the wall, ceiling, and floor had all been real. And it had been cleaned up while I lay helpless and injured on the floor.

“The man from last night has been taken care of. Him and his friends. And I’m quite thorough, so say nothing to the police. If you do, they’ll only call you into question.”

I swallowed down the sticky lump in my throat. “You killed them all?” I said, with a terrified tone.

“I saved you. Don’t expect me to do it again.” The call ended.

CHAPTER SIX

After being kept all day for observation, I called Jimmie for a ride. Honestly, I couldn’t recall ever being so dang exhausted. Last night’s drama had been bad enough, but then I had to spend an hour on the phone with Mamma, convincing her not to come.

What was she going to do anyway, other than get in the way? I needed privacy to cry. Also, she was the type who thought talking about herself nonstop was a good distraction when Maybell or I was upset. Mamma also loved talking about herself when we were happy, too. Pretty much any occasion was fair game. Thankfully, Maybell pitched in and steered Mamma away with a few quick texts saying she was going to look after me. She wasn’t, but I was okay with that.

The moment I stepped outside into the night air to wait for Jimmie in his flaming rooster truck, I found myself feeling grateful that spring was finally here. The days would start getting warmer and longer.

What a weird thing to think. Maybe because last night had delivered so many horrors into my life. More than anything, it had brought the familiar pain of loss. It was a darkness I didn’t welcome or ever hope to relive. Still, it was weird wanting summer to come faster.

After Jimmie got me, we drove in solemn silence until arriving at the Carlins’ cattle gate.

Jimmie punched in the access code. “Betsy’s in the back of the truck, and I’ll have Joe drop off your ride tomorrow.”

I nodded, relieved that I wasn’t going to be all alone unarmed. I’d actually come close to telling Jimmie about the man with the gravelly voice but was too afraid. My uncle wouldn’t believe me, and that was a fact. There’d been zero traces of Tall Guy’s bloody death, and if I kept on insisting my story was true, I’d be sent for psychiatric care. I’d rather take my chances out here in the wild.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t terrified of the shadowy man. If what he’d said was true, he’d killed a total of eight people last night.

I swallowed down a cold lump as Jimmie parked in front of the guesthouse, where I lived. It was a good fifty yards from the main house, just on the other side of the horse stables, all surrounded by towering chestnut oaks and beech—some over two hundred years old, according to the Carlins.

“You want me to keep you company?” he asked.

“Thanks, Uncle Jimmie, but I’m just going to crawl in bed and sleep.” And cry in private.

“You need anything, anything at all, just call.”

“I will.” I opened the passenger door and hopped out.

“Don’t forget Betsy.”

“Got it. See you in a few days,” I said.

“Take as much time as you want. Just—just let me know if you’re not coming back.” His voice was forlorn, like he assumed I wasn’t going to work at the Rooster again.

“I’m coming back. I just don’t know when. Gimme a week maybe.” I needed to get through the funeral first.

He nodded.

I was about to close the door when he blurted out, “The sheriff said he’d send one of his deputies by tomorrow.”

Were they going to question me about Tall Guy and his friends’ whereabouts? “For?”

“They need a statement about last night.”

My stomach relaxed. “Oh. Yeah. I’ll be here.”

“Night, darlin’.”

“Night.” I closed the door, grabbed Betsy’s soft carrying case, and watched the truck’s taillights disappear down the long dirt road.

Suddenly, the hairs on my arms stood straight up, and the horses in the barn started nickering. I whipped my head over my shoulder, hugging my shotgun case tightly. My fingers slowly glided up to the top zipper, and I slid down the tab.


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