“Come on! Speak, girl! I’ll give you a cookie!”
Pathetically, that was all it took. I took a deep breath and rolled onto my back, hoping it would help make me conscious enough to eat a cookie without choking to death. Chloe was quiet as I stretched my body away from unconsciousness, her arm staying draped over me.
“Where’s my cookie?” I demanded after a bit.
“I’ll buy you one later. Now spill.”
I smirked. “Did that last night.”
“Nice,” she said. I gave in, still blinking excessively in an attempt to get my eyes to work correctly. They didn’t want to stay open.
“He cooked for me,” I began through a yawn, “and gave me a tour of the house he’s staying at. Apparently he has a very wealthy friend in the area who lets him use the place. It was beautiful, great view. I drank half a glass of wine, got dizzy, and then woke up in a bathtub.” Chloe blinked at me as I spoke, her body going tense as wariness swarmed in. “Turns out he’s here on business with our missing café owner, who sent thugs to the house to rough him up, and I just happened to be in the way.”
Chloe sat up, watching me seriously. Something was bubbling up inside her; I couldn’t quite place it, but I was completely sure it wasn’t something I had ever seen in her before. Feeling strangely vulnerable lying down, I pushed upward, pulling my knees against my chest. Chloe watched me until I realized she was waiting for me to finish.
“He took care of them, which was…” I shook my head, not wanting to talk about that. “Well, neither one of us got hurt, but the intruders can’t say the same. Which is probably best for me as I don’t know why they would’ve left me alive after doing whatever they were ordered to do with him.”
“You said he’s here doing business with Madeline?”
“Not exactly with her. Did you get my text?”
“That’s why I’m here. You were drunk on hormones and it was two in the morning when you sent it. Full of typos. Unless you really did get paid and were hoping for ‘well talk in the morning.’ I don’t know much about wells, though, except that apparently Timmy can’t stop flinging himself down them. So come on, Lassie. Speak: tell me what’s up with Madeline.”
“He wouldn’t tell me why he’s here, but he gave me some cryptic suggestion that I should look into deaths in the area in the last week. I wanted you to remind me, maybe see if your search skills are better than mine.”
“Deaths like heart attacks?” Chloe asked, her expression dour. I shook my head, though I should have nodded in agreement. She was probably right, it just hadn’t occurred to me until after she’d suggested it.
“Just deaths in the area. He didn’t say anything else. Do you think Madeline’s killing people?”
“Unlikely,” Chloe said offhandedly, pulling out her phone as if she’d just gotten a message she wanted to check. She rolled her thumb across the screen three times and then set the phone down, looking up at me again. “She’s been around for long enough to know better. But he’s here for a reason and the fact that two bodies have shown up since Friday is pretty scary.”
“One on my lawn,” I said, thinking back to what I’d sensed in my half-asleep haze. There had been three sets of emotions when I’d first hopped out of the bed, and only one had been human. “Does Madeline live around here?”
Chloe shook her head, but it wasn’t an answer. She wasn’t entirely listening to me, a faraway look on her face. I swallowed hard, wondering if she was going to go all serious on me like she had when I’d been attacked by a demon the year before.
We sat in silence for about a minute before her phone played the opening sax riff from the Night Court theme song. I frowned at the sound, wondering why she’d picked that when I’d never heard her mention the show once, and she grabbed the phone, reading the screen intently. After a moment, she nodded.
“Four deaths match a succubus M.O. in the area. The two you found, one downtown that the police chalked up to a mugging Saturday and one at a train station Tuesday.”
“How—” She didn’t let me finish.
“Is your boyfriend here to kill her?”
“No, but I’m certain he wouldn’t hesitate if it came to that.”
Chloe nodded, pushing off the side of the bed. She opened my closet and started pulling stuff out. The emotion I’d felt in her earlier was like hot coffee to my senses: it was warm and bitter, but comforting. She was feeling very protective of me, though not just the way one friend is with another who’s considering buying an unflattering top. If it came to it, she would throw down over my safety. She’d done so before.
“Come on, get dressed. You don’t have any early appointments today, so I think we should go to The Internets and—”
“The mugging Saturday. Where was it?”
“Just, like, downtown,” Chloe said, peeking out of my closet. “I could get the exact address if you need it.”
“I don’t— No. I don’t know. I was just curious. This whole situation is just really weird.”
“Very weird,” Chloe agreed, going back to picking through my clothes. Before we could discuss it any further, my phone rang, buzzing across my nightstand. I grabbed it, my first thought that it might be Owen calling for an early morning booty call.
“Hello?”
“Gwen, it’s Stanley. I have a favor to ask you.”
I blinked, not sure if my level of confusion was to be blamed on not being awake or at the rapid change in topic.
“Stan? Hi. What time is it?” I pulled the phone back, saw that Chloe had woken me up at the ungodly hour of 7:23 a.m. Pressing the phone to my ear, I amended, “Never mind. What did you need?”
“I got a disturbing call from my neighbor this morning. Apparently Norma sent flowers to my house. I don’t know how she got my address, but I can’t get a hold of my agent to find out.”
“Wow, I’m sorry. Are you still in Seattle?” He’d mentioned he was leaving, but my date with Owen had shoved all talk of his plans right out of my mind.
“I’m not supposed to be. I was going to take a car to the train station—”
“I would have driven you,” I interrupted. Stan let out a soft laugh.
“You’re not a morning person, I know. I was about to leave when Maria called. She’s been feeding my cat and watering my plants, and she said the flowers were left on the porch, addressed to me from Norma. They—” He cut off. Chloe had stepped out of my closet, holding a blue shirt and dark grey slacks and watching me. After a brief silence, he continued.
“The card said that she wanted us to enjoy the flowers together, that things would be better once we were out of Seattle. I don’t know what that means, but I’m getting sort of worried. I’ve already notified the police but I don’t particularly want to go home. Unfortunately, when I called down to extend my stay here, the desk said that I had a package, also from Norma, here at the desk.”
“Jeez,” I hissed, torn between being impressed and horrified at the woman’s determination. Stan was quiet for a moment before sighing.
“Would you mind if I stayed in your guest room until this is sorted out? I don’t think it should be more than a day or two.”
“Of course. It’s yours as long as you need it.”
“Thank you so much, Gwen. I’ll get a cab and—”
“No cabs. Chloe and I will pick you up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. Have your stuff ready, stay in your room. Door-to-door service.”
Stan thanked me again, gave me the room number, and double-checked to make sure I knew my way there. I pinned his question on how frazzled he was, not blaming him for forgetting that I’d dropped him off at the hotel just twenty-four hours ago. After we said our goodbyes, I hung up and turned to Chloe.
“Change of plans. We’re rescuing Stanley Sneedley from a stalker.”
“Never a dull moment with you,” Chloe said, tossing me the clothes she’d picked out.
Chapter Twelve
“A
re you sure this isn’t a problem? Should I just find another hotel?”
“Stan, it’s fine,” I assured him. He was feeling guilty, and it was kicking me in the back of the skull. Thinking back to our conversation Sunday night, I perked up slightly.
“You said you bake?”
“Occasionally, yeah. Why?” It took him less than a second to get it. “Oh.” He started laughing, which made Chloe giggle like a schoolgirl. She was giddier than the situation called for. Frowning her way, I reached a hand over and smacked my knuckles lightly against her thigh. This made her snort.
“I doubt you even have baking supplies, Gwen. Stan, we’ll leave you Gwen’s car in case you want to go to a store and get supplies.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine," Stan insisted.
“You haven’t seen her kitchen cabinets.”
“Ah…” Stan seemed to reconsider. “You’re probably right. Are you two off to work after this?”
“Yep,” Chloe said. We’d decided on the way not to mention Madeline or the deaths in the area. Stan knowing about my empathy was a far cry from what we were dealing with, and I felt it best to leave it that way.
“Well, if I’ll have the house to myself, I’ll just get some writing done.”
Chloe made a small squealing sound and I rolled my eyes. Luckily, we were pulling into my driveway and she wouldn’t be having fits of fangirl glee for much longer. Stan only had two bags, which hadn’t surprised me. Once we were all inside, I made my way straight into my office.
“I’ll get you the spare key to the house and one for my car, in case you want to go out. I have food, though.” Chloe and Stan were silent, but I felt the twin spikes of cynicism from both of them that basically said, ‘Yeah. Sure.’
I pouted a little as I dug into the accordion folder in which I kept my extra keys. When I got out to the living room, I found Chloe leaning in toward Sonny’s cage, telling him how pretty he was. He was ringing his bells at her and showing off. I leaned into the guest room off the living area and watched Stan as he dug around in his computer bag.
“Here,” I said, holding out the keys. He glanced up at me and smiled.
“Oh, thanks. Is there an outlet behind the desk?” he asked. I nodded, unsure what to say. We had gone from no contact for a decade to temporary roommates. When I only stood there staring and holding out the keys, he switched his focus from his laptop to me and smiled.
“You two go to work. I’ll be fine here.”
“Okay. Well.” I set the keys on the nightstand and then backed up awkwardly, giving a small wave. I didn’t have a problem having him in my space, but it was going to take some getting used to, especially considering the circumstances. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Fleeing, I headed out to the living room, caught Chloe’s failed attempt at hiding a smile and grumbled at her.
“Shut up.”
##
With Stan’s issues bumping up against our own, we didn’t make it to The Internets until just after their lunch rush. My first appointment had been a fairly well-adjusted young woman who came in sporadically to talk about mild personal issues; unlike some of my other clients, she didn’t leave me drained or paranoid.
The first thing I saw as we entered the café was Mel, leaning over the new waitress, his face too close to hers. I took in the scene with confusion. Unlike most women, she seemed severely unhappy with his advances; it was like watching him hit on me. Chloe made her way straight to the counter, asking to talk to Holly in private. As I watched the waitress pull away from Mel, shaking her head, I aimed squarely for the two of them and made my way over.
“Really, I have a boyfriend,” she lied. “I’m sorry. Please—“
“Jeez, Mel, leave her alone.”
The girl turned to me, relief flooding her face. She swallowed thickly and nodded, though I could tell it was an unintentional reaction to my rescue, not an agreement that I had a point. Mel looked up at me, his face lacking all traces of the confidence I was used to. His blue eyes were wider than usual, his five o’clock shadow looking thicker on one side. The shirt he was wearing was open one button too far and it made him look sleazy rather than sexy.
Suddenly, I wasn’t sure who I felt more sorry for.
“Did you need help?” the waitress asked desperately. I glanced down, saw that she’d gotten a nametag: Jenny. I shook my head at her and then jerked a thumb behind me, toward the front of the restaurant.
“No, but I think Holly does. I have to talk to this idiot.”
“Hey,” Mel said, though his protest was mild. She was already ducking away from him, rushing toward the cash register. I followed her progress as she hustled and saw Holly gesturing Chloe into the kitchen. When I turned back to Mel, I found him in my face.
I jolted and swore, annoyed by his proximity, and not just because he’s Mel. It was different, though, than what I normally felt near him. When I pressed a hand against his chest, he took it as an invitation, grabbing my hips and pulling my body against his, pressing his crotch to my belly.
Baffled that being so close to him still wasn’t physically painful, I stared up at his normally pretty face. His emotions were strange; not just milder, but also of a different type than I was used to. We were inches away from each other and I didn’t feel like hitting him or shoving him. I still wanted him gone, but the revulsion was unfamiliar, more a gooey disgust and not so much a personal reaction based on some genetic mix-up that had given me magical powers.
“You’re still all screwed up,” I mumbled from inches away. The false confidence he was projecting across his face crumbled, and he pushed away from me.
“Look, I know you’re always saying you don’t want to sleep with me, but this line you’re taking about my mojo being screwed up is just rude. I’m fine,” he insisted. The emotion rolling out of him was akin to an A-student who’d gotten their first D in a class they were convinced they’d passed with flying colors. I felt one side of my mouth tug up in an amused grin. When his expression scrunched into a full pout, I let out a snort.
“When was the last time you got laid?”
“What?” he demanded; it was a stall tactic, I could tell. “Last night!”
Knowing he was lying, I just crossed my arms, lifting a brow and giving him a cynical stare. He sighed, his arms coming up in a frustrated flail.
“Tuesday, okay? It was Tuesday night. But everything is fine.”
“Is that why you couldn’t shave straight this morning?”
“What?” he asked, hands coming to rub along his jaw. Watching him stand there so out of sorts made me laugh. Mel blinked down at me before his eyes went wide, his expression filling with embarrassed outrage. He lifted a finger and shoved it against my chest, just above my left breast. I felt the impact, but it wasn’t hard enough to do any damage.
“I’m not Mated,” he said, horror singing through his voice as if I’d accused him of tossing a basket of happy kittens over a cliff. I had no idea what he was talking about, or why he’d used a phrase to describe animals coupling as if it was sacred and all-important. “You—I’m leaving. There are plenty of better places to pick up women.” Pushing past me, he stalked toward the front, slamming the door open as he rushed through. I shook my head, still confused but chuckling over his behavior. It had been a year since I’d met Mel and nearly every moment he spent trying to annoy me had been torture. Now he seemed mildly annoying at worst, and I wasn’t sure if I would ever get used to not hating him on sight.
I moved to the front of the counter and gestured to the kitchen, asking Jenny if she minded me going back.
“Thanks for that,” she said in lieu of answering. Gesturing toward the front door, she continued. “I’ve heard he’s a nice guy, but he was just giving me the willies.” To demonstrate, she gave a full-body shudder. I just nodded.
“Yeah, me too.”
At my admission, she smiled, sighed with relief. It took her a second to realize I’d asked a question, and she gasped.
“Thanks.”
I found Holly sitting on an exposed shelf, among Tetra Pak boxes of soy and almond milks, cans of chocolate powder and sacks of flour. I took the time to look around the back room of The Internets, marveling at the industrial-sized cooking equipment. So many delicious cakes had been baked in this room, I thought. I kind of wanted to drop to my knees like I’d entered a holy place.
Holly was leaning over her thick thighs, elbows resting on her knees. She looked tired, and I was guessing she hadn’t been able to sit down since before the lunch rush.
Chloe was leaning against one of the counters, one ankle crossed over the other, her phone in her hand. She glanced at me, gave me a cursory smile, and then turned back to Holly.
“And you’re sure she was here Monday through Thursday last week? She didn’t call out until Friday?” Chloe asked.
“Definitely. We had a Who night Tuesday and she was dressed as a Silent,” Holly explained. Chloe let out a sound of appreciation. “I left at midnight but I know she was there the whole evening before that. The only time I didn’t see her was—well. When she was…” Holly’s cheeks went rosy pink as she trailed off, and I felt discomfort splash out from her. It rolled along my skin like syrup.
“When she was what?” Chloe asked.
“She and some guy went into the back office for a while at around ten, but they were only in there for, like, fifteen minutes. I mean, it may have been up to twenty-five minutes, but probably not.” She was lying about the ‘probably not.’
My eyebrows flew up and I felt the embarrassment from Holly jump into me. Chloe was unbothered.
“Oh, that’s not a big deal.” She shrugged a shoulder, tucked her phone into her pocket again. “As long as it wasn’t in the kitchen, I think it’s fine. Health codes being what they are.” Sensing that Holly was still uncomfortable essentially ratting out her boss for screwing a customer right on shift, Chloe pushed away from the counter. She waggled her brows and gave Holly an easy, lascivious smile.
Business With Pleasure (Empathy in the Preternatural PNW Book 2) Page 12
