by Clara Cody
He reached the landing and leaned against the wall. “So, it was an act then?”
“What? Of course!” She looked genuinely offended. “You think I’d really be the slightest bit interested in a slimeball like Donovan? Jesus.”
“Then what the hell was all that about your Dad? You never told me he wasn’t around. Why did you open up to him like that?”
“My dad was around. He was great. But guys like Donovan love a girl with Daddy issues.”
“Oh.” His frown disappeared, and he chuckled. “Oh, you’re good. I’m pretty sure I’ve created a monster, but, damn, woman, you are good.”
She gave a cute little curtsey. “Well, I had to do something, and you didn’t want me playing the bad cop anymore.”
“So, that’s what that was? Good cop?”
She waggled her eyebrows at him. “Very good cop. Nice, but maybe-a-little-bit-naughty-too cop.”
“We have to get back to the hotel and play nice/naughty cop, immediately.”
She grinned, leaning into him. “I’ll have to take a raincheck. I gotta get back and get stuff ready for tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
“My date,” she answered, taking off down the stairs. “I’m getting together with Donovan at his house for dinner. I have to get ready.”
Chapter 14
“Shit, what is that smell?” Dane waved a hand in front of his face.
Sarah shushed him with a grin. She sat on the floor, surrounded by white votive candles. A wooden bowl of water sat before her, and a tall clear bottle beside it. She worked a mixture of rosemary, jasmine, and juniper berries together. Smelled like old lady potpourri to him.
“I hope whatever that stink is, it’s worth it.” He took a seat behind her, his legs cradling her hips.
“Well, we need information from Donovan, don’t we? This will help.”
“Ah, it’s a Truth potion. Like what we got from Fredrick?”
“Hmmm, something like that. It’s really more of an inhibition inhibitor.”
“What does that mean?” He sniffed the bottle. “Is that vodka?”
“Straight up, baby. I’m going to change the appearance and taste. He’ll think it’s whatever his favorite drink is.”
“You’re going to get him drunk?”
“Exactly. Only he won’t really know he’s getting sloshed. I can just go around giving Truth potions to suspects without just cause, but I can give someone a bottle of vodka.”
“Way to think outside the box. But what if his favorite drink is vodka? Or any other hard alcohol?”
“Well, then hopefully my charm and wit can still push him to get drunk.”
“Do you think it’ll be enough?”
She shrugged. “I hope so. To be honest, I’ve never done a spell like this before. That’s why I need to concentrate.”
“Okay, okay.” He motioned that he’d keep his lips shut from now on.
She took a pinch of salt and added it to the mortar before returning to her grinding.
He rested his chin on her shoulder, watching her work. “Did you notice anything weird about Anita? The secretary? She was off. Definitely in love with Donovan.”
“I bet she loves me right about now, then.”
“Think she might have something to do with all this?”
She shook her head. “She’s human, right? Fredrick didn’t mention her, and there was nothing in his books about her. And a human can’t make a potion or cast a spell themselves.”
“Right. Still. Oddball.”
She shrugged. “So, she’s a weirdo. Who isn’t? Now, would you let me focus?”
He slipped a hand under her shirt, to her breast. She sucked in a breath as his fingers rolled her tender nipple. “Who’s stopping you?”
She purred, her eyes slipping closed. She gripped the pestle in her hand, her grinding slow and methodical. His rigid mast pressed against his jeans.
“Are you sure you can’t take a quick break?” His lips traveled down her neck, kissing her with every other word.
She pulled away. “No, really. I can’t.” She grinned at him over her shoulder. “Give me like twenty minutes, and I’m all yours.”
He nipped at her neck. “Damn right you are.” He hopped up on the bed, taking out a book she’d left there. It was a book on witches. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do. Plus, he might learn something about witches that he could use. He was tired of Sarah always having the upper hand because she knew so much about shifters. It was time to level out the playing field.
“Are you actually reading up on witches?”
He shrugged. “Might as well if I’m going to be mated to one.” He stopped. Shit, did I actually just say that? The look on her Sarah’s face meant that yes, he had. Balls.
Her jaw dropped. “Mated?” She put the mortar and pestle down, turning towards him. She moved to her knees on the floor, caught somewhere between going to him and staying where she was. “Seriously?”
“I—uh—” He rubbed the back of his neck, sitting up. “I don’t—come on, don’t get distracted. Like you said, you need to concentrate.”
“Nah-uh. Did you mean that?” She scurried over the bed, and pushed him to the mattress, straddling him. “Tell me.”
He laughed, wiggling underneath. “Get off! You have work to do. Stop shirking your responsibilities!”
“Answer the question, or I’ll use my magic vodka on you.” She pinned his arms over his head.
He was locked between her thighs. “I like this position,” he said, grinding his hips upwards. “Now that you’re taking a break—”
“Stop it!”
She wasn’t going to let it go. He felt the fight leave him. “Okay, you got me.” He shrugged. He’d known it since the moment he’d met her. He tried to ignore it, even fight it, but it was no use. Why deny it now? “What can I say? You’re my mate. If you want me.”
She bit her lip, pausing. He would give anything to know what she was thinking at that very moment. Happiness? Doubt? Fear? Love?
“I know this is fast and that witches don’t really get fated mates, so if you want to take it slowly, I get it.”
“You’re right, we don’t have fated mates. But we know a good thing when we see it.” She kissed his lips.
“I take it you’re not scared off, then?”
“Hmm, not yet. Can I get back to you on the whole mate thing?”
“Of course.” The last thing he wanted was to rush her. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
She smiled, bending down to kiss him, again. His hands traveled up her back, under her shirt. She tasted so sweet, even sweeter after what they’d said. They made slow, sensual love, staring into each other’s eyes. Their bodies rocked in time, sweating and needy. He held her close as she came, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips.
He smiled, nuzzling her neck. After a few minutes of cuddling, she slipped from the covers. “I have to do this spell,” she said, apologetically.
“I know.” He picked up the book from the floor where it had fallen off the bed. “If you can manage to keep your hands off me for two minutes, maybe I can get some reading done.”
“Ha!” She slipped into her navy blue silk pajamas and sat on the floor amongst the still burning candles. “I’d forgotten about the candles,” she moaned. “Now they’re already half burned.”
“Just be quick,” he said. “The sooner you finish that, the sooner you can come back to bed.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, in case she’d missed his meaning.
“Yeah, yeah. I just like to take my time and do it slowly, methodically. Make sure I do it right.” She sighed. “But I guess I can’t this time.”
“It’s only vodka.” He flipped a page. “How much could go wrong?”
Reading might be a slightly grandiose term for what he was doing. It was really more like skimming. So far, he hadn’t found out much. Besides, it was hard for him to concentrate with Sarah right at the foot of the
bed in her sexy little silk pajamas, murmuring her spell. My mate.
A knock came at the door. Not the one in Sarah’s room, but Dane’s. They’d gotten in the habit of leaving the passage between their two rooms open and the sound of a heavy knock traveled through.
“Can you get that?” Sarah said, interrupting her spell. “And get rid of whoever it is.”
Man, she’s bossy when she’s witch-crafting. “Sure, thing.” He leaped from the bed and closed the door behind him so that she could have her privacy. “Yeah?” he said, just as whoever it was, began to knock again.
He found Lance Brody outside his hotel room. “Hey, man!” He sounded and looked drunk.
“What up, Lance?” He looked around but saw no one else around.
“Come on, why don’t you come down to the bar? I haven’t seen you for a couple of days. Witch keeping a tight leash on you?”
“She’s not like that. Besides, I’m in the middle of a case. I can’t be going to the bar every night of the week.”
“Look, I know about your little problem, okay?”
“Problem?”
“Yeah, that you can’t shift. It’s okay, man. No one’s going to think any less of you. Besides, Andrew’s down at the bar right now, you guys can commiserate together.”
“Andrew’s at the bar?” He thought of the way he’d begged Anita to talk to him. It just didn’t seem like him. He didn’t seem like the type of guy to be spending his Thursday night in a bar, either. This might be a good opportunity to talk to him. “Yeah, all right.” He left a note for Sarah just in case she finished up her spell and came looking for him, and walked with Lance, who stumbled back and forth, to the bar.
It wasn’t difficult to find Andrew, who was sitting on his own at the bar and stood straight up as soon at the door was opened. His eyes landed on Dane and he deflated, returning to his glass of untouched beer. Guess I wasn’t what he was hoping for.
Dane crossed the bar and took the stool next to Andrew. “Rough day?”
“You could say that.”
“Waiting for someone in particular?”
“Anita. The love of my life. I don’t think she’s coming, though.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re waiting for Anita? Here?”
“Yeah. This is where I met her. It’s our spot.”
By that reasoning, this bar was probably a lot of people’s spot. “Were you dating long?”
He gave a humorless guffaw. “No. We just met a few weeks ago, for Christ’s sake. We matched on Tinder if you can believe it.”
He could, actually. As quiet and shy as Anita had seemed, she had a bit of freak in her. It reminded him of Sarah.
“I heard about you losing your ability, too. Sorry.”
“Thanks. I’m doing all right, though.”
“Just wait. It gets worse. In another week, when you haven’t let your wolf out, you’ll start to feel it.” Andrew was gripping his glass, his mouth a hard line.
“We’re trying. We’ve made a lot of progress, you know? We’ll get there.”
Andrew dragged a hand through his hair. “Yeah.” The door opened again and Andrew sat up, his eyes desperate. It was Ollie, who took one look at Dane and turned left, going to the other side of the bar.
Andrew sighed, taking a long swig of his drink.
“What’s your relationship like with the mayor?” Dane asked.
“The mayor?” He pulled a face. “Non-existent. I voted for him and all, but never even talked to the guy.”
“So, there’s no reason he’d have anything against you?”
“Not that I would know.”
Dane scratched his chin, his nails running over his stubble. If Troy Donovan was behind the poisonings for political reasons, what was his motivation to go after Andrew? It all started with him.
Chapter 15
Sarah’s heart pounded against her sternum. Dane’s hand was down the little black dress she wore, fixing a microphone. She looked out the window at the towering house down the street. Donovan’s house. Massive and domineering, just like its owner.
“You sure about this?”
Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
“Just be careful in there. If Donovan really is the guy behind this, he could—”
“I know.” She’d been turning that thought over in her mind for the entire drive over here.
“What’s the word?”
It was probably the hundredth time he asked it, but she didn’t mind. “Snuffleupagus.” It made them both feel better. “If I get into trouble, I’ll say Snuffleupagus, and you’ll come and break down the door. Or whatever it is you do.”
“Right.”
“How do I look?”
“Beautiful. But wait, you have something…” He reached for the neckline of her dress and tugged the material up to her neck. He patted it in place, hiding the cleavage she’d work so hard to show off. “There, that’s better.”
“Ha, ha.” She smoothed it back out and took a deep breath before climbing out of the car. It was going to be fine, she told herself. Don’t look back. She carried the bottle of alcohol in a gift bag. To Sarah, the magic vodka smelled like her grandmother’s pink lemonade. To Dane, it had smelled like a beer.
The house was massive and expensive looking. Lance had said that Donovan’s family owned a piece of the forest behind his house. That sounded like he came from old money. The house certain looked like it did, too. She rang the doorbell and was shown in by a petite woman with black hair and shining green eyes.
“Mr. Mayor is in the living room,” she said, gesturing to the right. Sarah slipped through the double doors and into the room. It was dimly lit, with soft romantic music playing in the background. “Hello?” she called.
“Over here,” Donovan called from the side. He poked his head out from behind a bookcase. He left the records he was flipping through and walked over to her, kissing her on the cheek. “Good to see you, Sarah.”
“You, too.” She handed him the gift bag. “Here’s this is for you. I thought you might like it.”
“Oh. He lifted the bottle from the bag. “What is it?”
To her, it looked like a generic glass bottle filled with pink lemonade. She had no idea what it would look like to him. “Try it and see.”
He removed the cork and smelled. “Mmmm. Is this—?” He took a drink, straight from the bottle. “It is! It’s Vanilla Coke. I didn’t think they made this anymore. How did you know?”
She shrugged. “Just a lucky guess.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” He went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass, adding a shot of rum. “Would you like a drink?”
Sarah cringed, thinking of the unholy mixture he was about to consume. Vodka and rum. Bleh! At least, he wouldn’t know. “Um, just a red wine, thanks.”
“I have just the thing.” He opened a bottle of red and poured a glass, filling it far too much. Apparently, he had similar intentions as she did. He wasn’t going to succeed in getting her drunk, though.
“A toast,” he said. “To breaking barriers and mending fences between our two groups.”
She smiled, raising her glass, wondering how many times he’d practiced saying that.
He smacked his lips. “God, that’s good. I used to drink this all the time in college.”
Oh, no you didn’t.
They sat down on the couch, Donovan sitting a little too close for her liking, while they talked about his interests. Baseball, golf, hunting wild animals for sport. He actually flew to Africa once a year to hunt exotic animals. Dick. She flirted, pretending to be fascinated by his frat boy lifestyle as he downed glass after glass.
She waited until his eyes were glossy and his speech was slurring just a bit to bring up the subject she was really interested in. “Is that why you’re making the forest into a hunting area? I’ve been hearing a lot about it. The shifters seem pretty upset about it.”
He shifted in his seat, giving a sneer.
“The shifters.” He huffed. “You probably know as well as anyone. Let me tell you, I’m not like most shifters. Hell, you wouldn’t be here if I was. But here in this town, they’re even worse. Me, me, me. That’s all they think about. Well, I have humans that I have to win votes from too, you know? It can’t just be about shifters all the time. But you make a few little laws and regulations in favor of humans and all of a sudden you’re a traitor. How’s that for loyalty?”
“Mmm-hmm. That doesn’t sound very fair.” She topped off his glass with some more “Vanilla Coke”. “Must make you mad.”
“Oh, it does. Especially that good-for-nothing Lance Brody.”
“What?” Lance? What did he have to do with anything?
“Yeah, Mister Chief of Police Brody. You know he’s the one that started all of this shifters-are-better-than-everyone bullshit? We were a nice, normal town before he came along stirring up trouble.”
“So, you hate Brody?” That wasn’t what she was expecting. If Troy was going after the people against the hunting grounds, then Lance should have been at the top of his list. He was more vocal than anyone. “What about Melissa Burke?”
“Melissa?” Confusion crossed his face. “What about her?” Suddenly, his face twisted into a look of disgust. He went pale.
“Uh, are you okay?”
He nodded, turning away from her. “Yeah, I-uh-” He forced a chuckle. “You sure that Vanilla Coke hasn’t expired?”
Oh no.
He heaved, his cheeks bulging. “Excuse me.” He ran from the room, disappearing behind the door.
Shit, shit, shit! She followed him out. The sound of violent retching brought her to the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”
More puking. Fuck! “Snuffleupagus,” she yelled between her breasts. “Snuffleupagus!”
In moments, Dane came flying through the door. “What? What is it?
“I poisoned the Mayor! I—I must have messed up the spell,” she sobbed. Between all that mate-talk and having just had sex, she’d been tired, distracted. She fucked it all up because she was distracted, and now she’d gone and poisoned an elected official.
