Storm Crazy

by Livia Quinn

  “Why are you aiding and abetting Dutch Pomeroy, keeping Tempe in the dark, and pretending not to know what’s going on? If Dutch’s location hadn’t been leaked, I might never have found out. I could bring you up on obstruction charges you know.”

  Dylan cursed. “You sound like one of Tempe’s supervisors, Lang, ‘All I know is what I read in the Destiny Tribune’. It’s time you tried to think outside your comfort zone. If you were the cop I pegged you for, you’d pay attention to your instincts, think beyond what you ‘see’ with your eyes. Why do you think Dutch’s location got leaked now? Because you had Peggy search?”

  He rolled his eyes and snorted derisively. “Right. Like that hasn’t been done a hundred times since his apparent ‘death’. The same goes for the report you got on the gambling problem. Why didn’t that show up on some interagency report before now? Shouldn’t there have been some activity in oh, say, the last nineteen years? You really think you’re that talented?”

  He pointed to his own head. “Think, man.”

  * * *

  The points he raised caught me off guard. I prided myself on having an open mind, but it had been difficult in this town, ever since… well, ever since I’d met Tempest Pomeroy. Had my attraction to her skewed my instincts somehow? Something had bothered me about the reason Dutch went to the prison. “Why were you involved?”

  The PI breathed in a harsh sigh and glanced cautiously at Tempe. “I was chosen as kind of a godfather and mentor for River and Te—and Aurora, for Tempe.”

  Tempe’s head swiveled quickly toward him. Her narrowed eyes hid a wealth of emotion. She seemed about to blow.

  Dylan? A mentor? I’d have to ask him about how that worked. The creep. Was he supposed to be mentoring her when he was sleeping with her?

  “Dutch and Phoebe have… enemies,” he said. “He went underground, so to speak, ‘off the grid’ to protect his offspring and Phoebe.”

  Offspring. That was an archaic way to put it. “I don’t understand. What kind of enemies? Gambling associates?”

  “Gambling is a human failing. That was not an issue for Dutch. It was all a cover.”

  A human failing, he’d said. I thought I was a pretty sharp detective, but I couldn’t figure out where he was going with these odd phrases.

  Tempe faced Dylan, “Aurora knew all of this?”

  Dylan had the decency to at least look contrite. “I’m sorry, Tempe. It was all for your protection and River’s.”

  I butted in, “What about the relationship you had with Tempe a couple years ago?”

  Tempe’s eyes focused hard on Dylan. “Yeah, what about that?”

  “It’s not that I didn’t care, Tempe. I did.”

  “It was all a lie.”

  Tempe’s voice was small, but I wouldn’t have made the mistake of calling it weak. It felt like the air leaving the atmosphere before a hurricane. “The truth—now, Dylan.” Her voice vibrated with fury.

  McGuinness held up a hand. “My breaking up with you, making it look like I was involved, it was cruel, but nothing else was working—”

  Was this guy callous or what? I’d met men like him. He’d cheated and let her catch him because she wouldn’t leave their relationship? Tempe’s words about trust came home to me; plenty of her closest family and friends had lied, or at least kept the truth from her. They’d controlled and influenced the last nineteen years of her life. I had to give her credit. I’d be venting my rage on the closest target.

  “—I did it to try to force you into your… maturity,” this with a glance at me.

  What? He was expecting support from me? I almost laughed in his face, but just shook my head. He was too much. A liar, manipulator, and then to throw more excuses at her… I had to hear his answer if only for the entertainment.

  “What the hell did that mean, you ass? Her maturity?”

  They both turned toward me. Dylan said, “Her Vyal K’allanti, the quickening.”

  Huh?

  Jack

  “Huh?” My gray matter had turned to cotton, and I had a sudden premonition that I should stop him from speaking, that there was more I wasn’t ready for, but apparently it didn’t matter.

  “All of this because I wouldn’t accept my gift?” Tempe asked him.

  “What gift?” I asked, again feeling extraneous.

  Dylan’s black brow arched. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  Why the hell not? “Go ahead, hit me.”

  Here comes the secret, I thought, just as I was slammed back against the wall by a sudden icy wind, and had to spread my legs to stay upright. I looked toward the front door, or tried to. The force of the wind kept me pressed against the rack of clubs and shirts, the shelves digging into my back. Tempe’s hair was whipping around her head like debris in a vortex.

  Frozen in place, I watched as she raised her fist and brought it down, as if backhanding some invisible surface. Thunder shook the foundation, and clubs fell narrowly missing my head. Thunder? Nah.

  Her eyes flared when they met mine. There, I saw not only her anger and frustration, but an explosion of light particles like a meteor shower moving from her pupils to the edges of her irises. She extended her fist; uncurled her fingers. Brilliant white fire sizzled there, snapping and hissing, reflecting in those otherworldly eyes.

  “What the—”

  She flipped her palm over and aimed a wood scorching white-hot blade in my direction. The trail of charred hardwood halted between my trembling legs. But she wasn’t done. Eyes transfixed on mine, she raised her arm toward the ceiling.

  I’m not that slow. I ducked, but it wasn’t a fire bolt this time. Fat droplets of water fell around me like the early seconds of a hard thundershower, then came a deluge. My first thought was the sprinkler system, but that didn’t explain the thunderclouds floating just below the ceiling or the hailstones bouncing off the floor.

  Indoors. It was hailing…indoors.

  Visible beyond the French doors, through the water pouring off the brim of my hat, were the sun-baked greens at the back of the clubhouse.

  Tempe and Dylan stood beyond, untouched by the stormy weather in the room. Was I imagining this or was this her gift—that she was able to make me think I was in the middle of a thunderstorm?

  The force pressing me against the wall eased. I looked down at the uniform clinging to my body, my pants and shoes. They were soaked through. “Tempe…” I started forward as soon as I was able to move. That got me another declarative strike, this one aimed strategically higher.

  “Enough!” I growled.

  The pressure against my body and the…elements subsided. I couldn’t name them rain or thunder because I was inside an enclosed building, and it just…wasn’t…possible. Where was the thunder and lightning and the wind now?

  Looking at Tempe and Dylan on the other side of the room in their dry clothing, one might believe it hadn’t happened. That is, if one could explain the sodden rugs, beads of water on counters, and the smell of ozone rising from the inch of golf ball sized hail littering the floor among the actual golf balls.

  Silence prevailed for several long seconds, with Dylan and Tempe both looking like two battle ready warriors awaiting the next move from their opponent, me.

  Well, I’d asked for it. Of course, having no idea in hell what I was asking, I couldn’t help but think Tempe had taken her mad out on me. Why not McGuinness? The obvious answer was that I was the one with the learning curve, so I’d pulled the short straw. It struck me then that I should be running for the hills. Why wasn’t I?

  I removed my hat, tilted it and held it at arm’s length, so the rest of the water could run off onto the already soaked floor. I pretended a calm I didn’t feel having learned years ago never to let junior officers, perps or, in McGuinness’ case, rivals sense any weakness. With him, it could be fatal. Swiping a hand over my face, I blew out a long breath and placed the hat back on my head. Crossing my arms I leaned against the wall.

  “I guess you’d better
start at the beginning.”

  Chapter 40

  “You might want to sit down.”

  * * *

  Tempe

  The beginning? Which beginning? Jack thought he wanted to know everything, and yet he kept looking at me like I’d grown a fork in the middle of my forehead. That would probably have been more palatable than what he’d seen—or what was to come.

  “Was that the extent of your ‘gift’?” he asked. “A little mini shower when you get mad?” His eyes widened. “It was you! You… rained on Paige in the parking lot.” He scratched his head. “I’m sounding crazy even to myself.”

  Dylan cut in, “For the details…” He looked Jack over, probably wondering how our sheriff who fancied all things normal had so easily accepted my bolt-throwing exhibition. “You might want to sit down.”

  I looked at the long stainless handle on the door and almost laughed out loud. We were about to sit down in the same chairs Jack had handcuffed me to just over a week ago. And the three letter sign on that restroom door held even more significance now.

  “Let’s start here.” Dylan pointed at the wet foyer. “What do you remember about the day you found the body?”

  Jack looked surprised. He’d obviously expected Dylan to go right to the information regarding my parents. But he didn’t miss a stroke, reaching into his jacket for that little notebook. Finding it soaked, he merely blinked and returned it to his pocket.

  “The victim was nude, the body temp was cooler than it should have been. He’d suffered blunt force trauma to the face and smelled like dead fish and rotten eggs.”

  “All evidence that you were in the presence of a Nucklavee,” Dylan said, matter of factly.

  “The con-man? According to whom?” Jack asked.

  Dylan shrugged. “There’s kind of an unwritten book on people of power.”

  “People of power?” Jack frowned at Dylan, then glanced at me. I shrugged. “What do you mean power?” he asked Dylan.

  “Hold that question, S-Man.” Dylan was enjoying himself a little too much. “We were talking about the Nucklavee. Nucklavees are mean creatures who can…slip into someone else’s place. When they are about to die, they smell like rotting fish and sulfur. Unless you take the Nucklavee’s head off, it can regenerate.”

  Jack blinked, mumbling, “Take… its… head off.”

  Dylan raised one black brow, pretending concern. “Are you okay, Jack? You’re starting to sound like a parrot.”

  I sighed and punched him in the arm. “Dylan, get on with it.” I wanted him to get to the end of the story, the part about Phoebe and Dutch. I wanted to know why Aurora had lied to me.

  “You’re telling me that the guy…” His eyes darted to me then back to Dylan. “…the victim Tempe found in the foyer wasn’t…” his voice trailed off.

  “Human.” Dylan grinned, steepled his fingers casually, and leaned back in his chair, the front legs kicking up. “He wasn’t a zombie, exactly, but he did come back to life—if that’s what you want to call what they do—in the ME's autopsy room, and walk out. I assume someone fingerprinted him. That would verify what I’ve just told you.”

  Jack rubbed his chin, his eyes moving around the room as he remembered the details of the case, the night the body disappeared, and what the ME had told him about the fingerprints. I saw that suspicious look in his eye as he rocked back in his chair and settled his gaze on me. “Did you know?”

  “Not until later. Well, I knew he was a variant of some kind,” I said.

  He made a face and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

  Dylan said, “Variant is a word for creatures like him who are…” He tilted his head and nodded at Jack. “We’ll go with your description, bad ‘people of power’.”

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds then opened them. “So who killed him?”

  Dylan looked off. “We’re not sure. The Ray who was working in the clubhouse was in fact one of the three bodyguards who arrived this year to keep an eye on the Pomeroys. Something happened to the real Ray; the Nucklavee probably killed him. The iron in his blood tells us he handled the amphora, so he was involved with what happened to River. My guess, he had a falling out with whoever is holding him.”

  “You’re sure River’s been kidnapped and didn’t just leave like Phoebe and her other bodyguards?”

  Jack was starting to catch up quickly, I thought, oddly proud. “You’re handling this rather well, Jack,” I said.

  He frowned at me, a shocky look in his eyes. “Yeah, well, I liked you better when you weren’t tossing electricity at my privates.”

  That hurt. And I noticed he hadn’t called it lightning.

  * * *

  Jack

  My mind was so far out in left field, I wasn’t sure if I’d make it back to shortstop much less home base. Either they were both crazy, or my mind had gone AWOL. I couldn’t believe I was still standing here having what seemed like a normal discussion about extremely un-normal events. All part of the psychosis, Lang.

  “I’m going to pretend this is all an illusion, like an episode on Syfy.” I squeezed my eyes shut hoping when I opened them we’d be standing in my office discussing the weather. No, not the weather. My eyes flew open. Tempe and the PI just waited, I assumed for a sign I wasn’t going to run screaming from the clubhouse. I couldn’t guarantee anything yet.

  “I have a question.”

  “Just one?” Dylan smirked.

  I ignored him. “I still don’t get why this Nuckle vay wanted River’s antique vase.”

  Tempe sighed. “I’m afraid… I misled you, Jack. The amphora isn’t River’s favorite collectible. He, um… lives in it.” Without blinking she followed that with, “He’s a genie.”

  My mouth fell open but no words came out. I listened for signs that I wasn’t in some alternate universe. But phrases like “take its head off” and “zombie” and “not human” bounced around in that cotton, none of it taking hold. And now the “g” word. No.

  “No.” I gulped several breaths and threw my hands in the air. “Nope, can’t do it. You two are nuts. You’ve given me no proof, shown me nothing but some special effects and magic tricks—”

  Dylan looked at Tempe. She crooked an eyebrow. My eyes narrowed.

  There was a sudden blur of movement, a deep growl, and then I was staring up—way up into the face of a shaggy wolf or bear-like creature with a long snout and massive head.

  “Oh, f-f—wh… s-sa-sasquatch?”

  “He’s Finrir, Jack,” someone said from outside the cotton as the beast moved toward me. Tempe?

  Its paw came up, and I ducked away from the long claws as a mouth as big as a trashcan opened to reveal many, many razor edged teeth. I jerked back and slammed against the wall. Clubs rained down around me.

  The thing was as big around as a grizzly and at least eight feet tall. It stalked me, opening its cavernous jaws. My feet slipped on the wet floor and I went down, my head bouncing off of something. All I saw were those slavering teeth and odd intelligent eyes before everything went black.

  Chapter 41

  He’ll probably want to leave now

  * * *

  Tempe

  “Dylan, look what you’ve done.” I knelt at Jack’s side and touched the knot on his head where he’d struck the corner of the display. “Was that really necessary?” I asked. “He’ll probably want to leave and find a really normal place to live now. A town with only humans.” I said, more to myself than Dylan.

  I’d only recently realized how much Jack meant to me after learning to trust again. What would he do now that he’d seen a bit of Destiny’s and my true nature? Would the relationship that had blossomed between us wither and die? Would he take Jordie and run as far as he could get from us?

  Dylan shifted back into his human form. “Maybe not. He said he wanted answers. When he wakes up, we’ll tell him everything he wants to know, if he’s not too chicken to hear the whole truth.” He stood with his hands at his sides, loo
king down at Jack’s prone form. I didn’t like Dylan’s aura. It resembled a volcano in the middle of an eruption, fiery red and charcoal gray. “Tempe, if he’s not on board, he’s a problem.”

  I flinched at the threat behind Dylan’s words and faced him. “You will not let anything happen to Jack.” Unspoken was something he wasn’t used to hearing from me, a personal threat. Where had the courage—or stupidity—to threaten this powerful Finrir come from? His head came up sharply and those dark man-lined eyes narrowed. For a few seconds, we locked eyes.

  * * *

  Jack

  My head hurt like hell. I was trying to regain my wits when I heard voices. “Dylan, look what you’ve done.” I watched through slitted lids as she stepped toward me. I concentrated on not moving as she knelt at my side. She laid her hand against the lump where the shelf hit me. “—that really necessary?” she said. “He’ll probably want to leave and find a really normal place to live now. A town with only humans.”

  Most likely. It was all I could do not to flinch as Dylan shifted back into his Diablo form. “You know as well as I do a place like that doesn’t exist.” What? I’d hoped Destiny was an exception but apparently not. I’d handled a lot of surprises in my life but this… it was like something straight out of the movies. He hadn’t tried to kill me though. Yet. My fingers eased over the grip on my gun that was hidden under my jacket, not that bullets could do any good against this beast.

  He frowned down at Tempe. “He said he wanted answers.”

  “Uh, that was before…” She kept her hand on my skin. It was soothing but I didn’t let on I was awake. Call it recon or avoidance, I didn’t want to talk to her yet. I had a lot to process and there’d been so many lies. Though what would I have done if I’d known about the craziness, about her?