by C. T. Adams
I shrugged as much as I could without wincing and then lifted my arms to pull on the T-shirt. “Not much to tell. I could hear you talking to some chickie named Sarah at the clinic, but Sue was in a coma, so all I could see was lots of black. At first, whatever magic they called up was pretty, but then it turned deadly—like most everything else in this fucked-up supernatural world. Lots of pain and torment, so I had to take matters into my own, albeit virtual, hands.”
“Like how?” Lucas is naturally suspicious of everyone, but he’s always saved special levels for me. He crossed his arms until muscles bulged and he centered his stance.
I put one hand on my chin and the other on top of my head and cracked my neck before I replied. “Oh, I learned my lessons well when you sent me to spend time with Aspen and her new hubby. She taught me how to channel energy so that when I get into hindsight mode, nobody I’m attached to can hurt me. Sort of like judo—I use their own strength back against them. But I can also grab it and use it to defend myself, so I did. I’m thinking I used Ahmad’s power to make the hurting stop, but I could be wrong.” More circling of my head made the pounding in my temples ease and the nifty accelerated healing was making it so I could almost breathe without pain.
A car door slammed outside, and then a second one. The girls must be back. That’s when I noticed there was still a slender thread of magic flowing out from Lucas. “Geez! You can’t even let the girl go to the grocery store without a tracker?”
“No. She might bolt. Hell, if I could figure out how to put one on you, I would. But you don’t even have to be out of my sight to leave and get into shit. Trouble has your picture next to it in the dictionary.”
“Don’t forget perturb, disquiet, and pain in the ass. I specialize in those too. My mug shot is all over the thesaurus.” I couldn’t help but laugh and that’s how the girls found me when they walked through the door. Laughing my ass off on the couch with Lucas shaking his head sadly at me, even though the room was filled with the scent of oranges.
Chapter Seven
I WANTED TO stick around town longer to figure out what Stuart and Ricky were up to. Lucas refused, saying we needed to get back to Boulder—both to get Liz to safety and to check on Sue and Angelique. I couldn’t argue, I wanted . . . no, needed to get back to Sue. Especially since Amber was actively blocking our link. I didn’t know if that was good or bad, but I didn’t like it. Still, I really didn’t like leaving with a possible hit hanging over my head. Who’s to say that Ricky was the only one hired to search?
I spoke softly even though nobody around us was listening. I’ve always found it odd that it’s easier to have an ultra-secret conversation right in the middle of a group of people. We’re taught from childhood not to listen in when others talk. “Couldn’t we have just hijacked them and done a hindsight on Stuart real quick? Something has made Vito Prezza think I’m still alive, and that makes things dangerous for all of us. I can’t afford to be alive in my old life right now.”
“Do you mean those guys at the motel?” I’d almost forgotten that Liz was trailing behind us in the Denver Airport, following the stream of travelers toward the shuttle stop that would take us to the long-term parking lot. She’d stayed so quiet in the back of the extended cab truck in Hansen, keeping her head below window level, so that other than her scent and breathing, she’d been invisible. Same with the flight back. She smelled afraid, of course, but I’d gotten used to that after a while. She’d also smelled determined—the scent of cold iron. She’d made her decision and had chosen the safety of her family and friends over herself. That boded well. “Don’t worry. They weren’t looking for you. They’re looking for some East Coast hit man named Tony Giodone. Heather and I heard them talking in their car when we were grabbing the duffel bags. But nobody like that ever comes to western Kansas.” I turned my head, raised my brows, and gave her a look. She was bright enough to get it in one, and paled visibly. “Oh. Um . . . I think I’ll be quiet now.”
“We’ll have someone look into it. That’s not important right now.” Lucas wasn’t rising to the bait of my argument, which was frustrating. Apparently, no amount of pushing or squawking was going to get him to budge.
I gave a little snort. “It’s important to me.”
Liz’s snort sounded almost like my own. “Welcome to my world.”
“Heeey, you!” The voice that said the words carried over the top of the several thousand people going about their business. A dozen years rolled backward from déjà vu. Not only did I know the voice, it came from the same world that Stuart and Ricky did. While the words were completely innocent and could have been said by anyone, there was a certain tone to the words, a particular cadence that only I would recognize, because we’d only said it in the privacy of the house we once shared. Like, anybody can say, “Wild and crazy guy,” but only Steve Martin really says it.
I turned so abruptly I nearly tripped the kid. She managed to jump out of the way, but her roll-along luggage did a triple flip until a bank of chairs stopped it.
I struggled not to show recognition on my face. I scanned the faces like I was looking for something, but not finding it. Because Lucas and I were still under illusion. There’s no way she should have recognized us. Unless—and then I saw her, the second woman, a visibly pregnant alpha wolf. The woman who turned me and could smell me anywhere.
Lucas and Liz stopped when I did. Lucas raised brows, clearly interested and a little disturbed, if his smell was any indication. The girl just plain gawked, as did most everyone else around. Linda Leone is worth gawking at. I have to give her that. She was decked out in a low-cut designer outfit in cobalt blue that hugged every carefully toned curve and made her sapphire eyes jump out at you. But the hat adorning her shining crown of hair was more suited to Derby Day than an airport in Denver, in my opinion. Still, if Linda was wearing a hat, she was clearly on the cutting edge of the fashion that would hit here in Denver next spring.
She dripped with diamonds, just like always, and there wasn’t a man alive who wasn’t turning to watch her move in a way that probably hasn’t been seen since Marilyn Monroe left this earth. Linda glanced to her left, trying to get confirmation from the wolf’s nose that we were who she was looking for, even though her eyes were lying to her. After the brief nod from the auburn-maned Babs Herrera, her heels ticked against the marble floors rapidly as she raced toward me.
I knew her initial desire was to throw her arms around me to give me a big hug, I’d let her too, completely unafraid that Sue would be concerned if she watched. While Linda and I had dated for a time, we split long before I met Sue. She was currently Carmine’s wife and decidedly off limits—even if I had the inclination, which I don’t.
The problem was that she didn’t know who was who and with Lucas still wearing the cologne, even Babs couldn’t be sure who was with me. She bit at her lower lip, looking from one to the other of us, waiting for some sign. Finally, I had to end the suspense. I smiled and leaned forward, then spoke softly, just next to Linda’s ear. My voice should still be the same. I think. “Good God, woman, are you three planning on a houseful?”
She seemed both relieved and suddenly tense. She flinched visibly and probably only Lucas and Liz could see whatever facial expression she wore. But her scent was nearly as blank as Lucas’s, which meant something was really wrong. Linda reacts to stress by internalizing. She can be a stone-cold bitch when she’s totally freaked out. “Thank God it’s you, Tony. Barbara lost the first one. Please don’t mention it. It’s hard for her to remember . . . the spider still gives her nightmares.”
Crap. I hadn’t known that. The last time I saw her, I’d just rescued her from a Sazi were-spider at Carmine’s command. That’s the problem with not keeping in touch with people. I’d have to warn Sue before she saw them and made a similar screw-up. I didn’t know how to deal with that level of pain, and suddenly didn’t know what to say. The problem is that I don’t really like Babs Herrera. She’s the one who turned me. She ri
pped out my throat and left me for dead. Of course, that was before she hooked up with Carmine and Linda. They’re a threesome now, and I know either or both would marry her if the law permitted. The trouble was, a part of me was actually pretty happy she was hurting, because I hate her guts. But Carmine and Linda, and Sue to boot, would never forgive me mentioning it.
So I fell back on my normal tool . . . sarcastic humor. I pasted a smile on my face, but let the sorrow remain in my scent for her nose. I grabbed Linda’s hand and gave it a firm shake, like you would when meeting a colleague from out of town. It shouldn’t give anyone who might recognize Linda any clue who we were to each other. I didn’t dare glance at Lucas, since he might be annoyed that I even acknowledged the pair.
I motioned to Babs with my thumb, shook my head, and whispered out the corner of my mouth. “That is just sick. You know that, right?” It was the perfect thing to say to her, because she smiled broadly. It told her we were back on the same old uneasy ground. She looked down at the shirt that was stretched over her big round belly and the smile turned to a grin. It was covered with baby animals, from fawns to tiny bunnies and even little fluffy skunks. On a normal woman, it would be cute and cause a lot of awww . . . comments. But I knew what it really meant, and it said she was laughing inside every time a human gave that response. Because right on the shoulder was a wolf paw print, painted in bright red. Hell, it could even be that she stepped on it in wolf form after dipping her paw. She’s an alpha and keeps her full human mind in her animal form. “Training the kid to hunt before he or she is even out.”
Her voice was all innocence when she replied, which told me I was right. “Why, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Besides, all the psychologists say it’s important for children in the womb to be exposed to basic food shapes, colors, and sounds.”
Lucas couldn’t help the guffaw that snuck out while I just shook my head. Linda looked embarrassed. She never has quite gotten into the wolf humor that Babs and I have. But poor Liz. She was just flat appalled. On the plus side, she was bright enough to get the joke. She just didn’t know what to make of it—it’s a lot like talking to Morticia Addams.
“Just please tell me you aren’t playing tapes of predator calls for the kid. He’ll wind up seriously messed up in the head if he never turns.”
Babs had the good grace to blush. “Only once. He said the same thing.” The he would be Carmine, and he’d probably be a little freaked out—being as it’s his first kid.
Linda grabbed her arm just then and both of their scents turned to panic. They looked at each other and then at me. “Crap! That’s what we’re here to tell you. I can’t believe we got so distracted. You have to come with us right now. He needs you.”
Lucas picked up on the same things I did, but he spoke first. “You came here to tell him something? Why did you think we’d be here right now?”
But Linda can evade with the best of them. “That’s not important right now. Besides, this doesn’t concern you. It’s just To—him we need to talk to.” Babs winced when she said that, because she’s well aware that if we’re under illusion, names are a bad thing. Of course, it might also be because she caught the glimpse of Lucas crossing his arms and letting out a low rumbling growl. It was so low that I doubt anyone other than a Sazi could pick up on it. Liz did. She took an abrupt step sideways from him and her eyes were showing too much white.
I had a solution that would get us out of the public eye and give us some privacy to talk. “You’ve got a car here? Great. How about giving us a ride? We’re way out in the long-term lot.” In Denver, the long-term parking lot is like three or four miles from the airport. That should give us plenty of time and if it worked out I needed to catch another flight, we could just turn around after dropping the others off.
It was acceptable to Lucas, because he waved Linda and Babs ahead. “Good plan. Lead the way, ladies.”
Liz did the polite thing, which was offer to carry Babs’s heavy bag. The rest of us tend to forget to offer, because even in her current state, she could lift a truck or chase down a full-grown elk and gut it before a normal pregnant woman could get herself standing from a comfortable couch.
At least, that’s what I noticed with Bobby’s wife, Asri. In fact, the more preggers the tiny Indonesian woman has gotten, the more dangerous she’s become. Komodo dragons, of which Asri is the last, carry over a year. He’d expected seven months, since that’s a normal snake term, but not dragons. It’s been a rough time for Bobbo, and there’s still a few months to go. He’s a powerful alpha python—also the last of his kind, but he’s no match for a hormone-crazed dragon. In the first trimester, they were still too busy having sex to notice her getting rougher about it. Then she started snapping at him . . . literally. Took a chunk out of his shoulder when he was handing her a cup of coffee at breakfast one morning. Currently, he spends most of his time at Wolven headquarters, wherever that might be at a moment, and they talk on the phone. She stayed on Komodo Island for a while, wanting to give birth in her homeland. But the tsunami took an awful toll and the birthing places she remembered aren’t there anymore. So, she’s back in Chicago, where she was Nikoli’s enforcer long before she and Bobby hooked up. The wolves are keeping a really low profile, because boy—they don’t want her angry. Nikoli and his mother are capable of keeping her in line, which is the reason she went back. She was afraid she was going to do something stupid that involved humans and wind up getting put down by Wolven before she could deliver.
Linda had double-parked the Cadillac Escalade in the arrivals section. There was no ticket on it, so no doubt she’d sweet-talked some poor cop to manage it. Heck, he was probably guarding it. A man in blue headed our way as we exited into the warm late-summer air and Babs immediately tucked her arm underneath Lucas’s. He let out a little sigh, realizing just as I did that they’d used the pregnancy as their reason. She started to do the pregnant woman waddle, putting a hand on her lower back in fake discomfort that she hadn’t had moments before. Even Liz finally rolled her eyes and sighed. Linda waved and smiled brightly to the young cop, who couldn’t be more than twenty-five. He tipped his cap in return before returning to flagging vehicles through the orange security cones, with frequent tweets on his whistle.
The size of the vehicle made short work of the luggage and everyone had plenty of space to sit. But I’ll bet the mileage was hideous. Once Linda was behind the wheel and we were on the ramp leading to the entrance, she finally looked in the mirror. “So who is this pretty young lady?”
Liz started to answer with, “I’m Liz—” before Lucas cut her off.
“New turn from Kansas. She’s got to be in Boulder before sunset, so let’s speed it up.” Granted that it was probably only an hour or two to get there from here, and it was still four before the moon rose. Mostly, I thought he was trying to keep on topic. He’s heard a little about Linda from me and Sue, and realized she can get off on tangents. She did shut up and the digital speed display moved up a few more numbers.
I added a little more detail, so she didn’t dig too much. “Liz Kendall. Twenty-three, new graduate of School of Mines.”
Babs broke in with polite interest. “From Kansas? Will you be a cat then? Not too many wolf families in that neck.”
“Badger,” replied Lucas, obviously trying to keep it short.
But that only spurred Babs on. “Really? I thought the only badger left was Nigel Sutton.”
“Granddaughter.” This time Lucas’s staccato reply was accompanied by a light growl that told people to drop it.
Babs got the hint and kept her reply to a simple nod and polite reply. Even Linda’s mouth stayed closed. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Sutton. Enjoy your visit to America.”
It was logical to assume that we were there to pick her up, and I could have probably left it there. But what the heck. “Other way around.” I ignored his hint, and it made him turn in his seat belt to give me a glare. I held up one finger, only because it’s something w
e hadn’t mentioned to Liz. “She’s from America. Bound for England. She and Gramps have never met, so she probably doesn’t even know her grandfather’s titled . . . Lucas.”
That stopped him. He reared back briefly. We’d been so caught up in other things that we hadn’t really paid proper attention to the girl. “Oh. You’re right.” He turned even farther, until his shoulder belt was touching his right elbow. “Liz, your grandfather is an English lord—the tenth earl of Suttcliffe. Even though you probably won’t ever have a title—it doesn’t pass to grandchildren—you’re probably his only heir. You’ll be staying at his estate south of London to train and the servants will probably fawn over you. Come to think on it, it might be a good idea to send someone along with you so it’s not such a radical change. His estate is far out in the countryside and there’s not much contact with civilization. Would your friend, Heather, like to go along with you? I can have Antoine Monier, head of the cats, arrange it with her family and have someone pick her up and meet you for your flight.”
“I . . . oh. Well—” Poor kid. This was a bit much to swallow all in the same day. “Would she be safe? That’s why I decided to do this, after all.”
Lucas nodded and turned back forward. “Nigel’s staff can handle anything that might happen. You’ll both be safer than you would be in Hansen.” He pulled out his cell phone before she could even reply and clicked the down arrow several times before punching the send command and raising it to his ear. Her eyes were still blinking a mile a minute and her scent was such a confusion of emotions that both Babs and I got a sneezing fit.
My hearing was still acute enough that even over the sneezing I heard Antoine speak and the French annoyance was thick in his voice. “Oui? ‘Ave you any idea what time it is here, Lucas?” He checked his watch, but his look was more embarrassed than his reply.
