My father sighed. “I’m sorry about this.”
“You will pay for your misguided belief that I require supervision, Mr. Shiny Shoes. Go keep my mother from getting herself into trouble. If you were really sorry, you’d give your bodyguard to me instead of foisting your parents on me, but as I see that isn’t happening, I’ll come up with an appropriate and sufficient revenge for this.”
“I was afraid you’d say something like that.”
“You only have yourself to blame, Mr. Shiny Shoes.” I shrugged, waved my hand in farewell, and followed after my grandparents, curious to discover how a pair of gorgons went shopping without leaving chaos and statues in their wake.
On a scale of one to ten, I had never been so wrong in my life. I never wanted to witness two gorgons shopping again. They didn’t petrify anyone, but chaos came aplenty. The twenty-minute drive to Rapid City went well enough, until we reached civilization.
Humans didn’t react well to gorgons in a convertible. The first accident wasn’t my grandparents’ fault; a driver was so busy staring at them rather than the road, resulting in a wince worthy fender bender. Whether to prove they could play good humans or attempting to set a good example, my grandparents waited for the police, gave their statements, and wasted an entire hour while I waited, leaning against their car.
The vehicle won them a lot of points with me. The convertible had a back seat, it was comfortable, and pretty enough I considered added car thief to my resume of illegal activities.
The second one was questionably the fault of my grandfather, who treated yellow lights as green lights and didn’t have the common sense to yield to the hybrid-form cat lycanthrope. One smashed truck and a busted fire hydrant later, and the kitty was so mad his fur stood on end. He jumped over vehicles to get a piece of those responsible for the dents in his baby.
While fairly certain gorgons couldn’t catch lycanthropy, the hissing, spitting feline catastrophe shattered my tenuous grip on my patience. I jumped out of my grandparents’ convertible, closed the distance between us, and gave a little demonstration how a delicate flower of a princess could flatten a several hundred-pound man without breaking a sweat.
Ramming my fist into the fanged maw of a pissed off cat wasn’t the brightest move, and I deserved to be bitten. Spitting curses a match for his snarls, I drove my off hand into his gut and snapped, “I’ll skin you for your pelt, you oversized marmot!”
“He’s a clouded leopard, Tulip,” my grandmother announced.
The oversized marmot decided he’d had enough of me, spit out my fist and one of his teeth, and tossed me across the street. I hit the sidewalk hard, rolled, and admired the pretty stars dancing through my vision. Everything I’d ever been told about concussions claimed smacking my head into things wasn’t a good idea, but how could I refuse such a violent invitation?
The lycanthrope was either going to die, get beaten within an inch of his life, or otherwise be subdued. I bared my teeth and hissed, rolled to my hands and knees, and lunged forward on a collision course with my new best enemy.
I hit him at full throttle, and we rolled across the road. “I don’t care what he is!”
“But I thought you wanted a lycanthrope.” My grandmother stepped out of the car and stood over us, her hands on her hips. “Sonny, you mated yet?”
He might’ve had better luck answering without my fist shoved in his mouth. “Grandmother, we’re busy.”
“I see that. Why are you picking a fight with a lycanthrope? You’re going to get infected if you keep that up. Instead of taking you swimsuit shopping, I’ll be taking you to the hospital. Do you like hospitals? We could’ve done a planned visit instead.”
Removing my hand from the leopard’s mouth, I grabbed his jaw and shoved his head back so he wouldn’t bite my grandmother. “He was going to rip your car apart. I couldn’t let such a bad thing happen to such a nice car. You should teach my grandfather how to drive better. Yellow means be careful, and they have a tendency to turn red when you’re partway through the intersection. Add in an impatient cat, and you cause a car accident. Think of your car.”
“It’s best to let angry lycanthropes work out their agitation, Tulip. The car can be fixed. I’m not so sure your hand can be. It looks rather injured. I may not be adept at caring for human infants, but your father is not going to be pleased when I return you damaged. Isn’t mauling how mermaids pick mates?”
“No.” The leopard snarled, and I smacked his muzzle. “Enough, kitty. You’re not tearing up the convertible. They’ll fix your truck. Bad lycanthrope.”
The lycanthrope growled.
“When you can speak English, I’ll let you go.” I thought I was being reasonable. The clouded leopard disagreed, tossing me over his head. I tucked, rolled, and smacked into the pavement on my back. “Or not.”
My grandfather sighed. “Are you quite done being used as a toy by the angry lycanthrope, Tulip? While I’m generally pleased with your willingness to engage with beings substantially larger and far better equipped for a fight than you, your father will be quite angry with us if we permit this to continue.”
“He was going to hurt the car.”
“Instead of hurting the car, he’s done an admirable job of hurting you. As you’ve busted out several of his teeth and he’s shredded your hand, it’s a safe assumption you’re now infected.”
“Immune,” I sang, waving my bloodied hand dismissively. “Aren’t gorgons immune to lycanthropy?”
“Indeed,” my grandfather replied.
“That’s what I thought. Hey, lycanthrope. Don’t touch the car. That car will be mine one day, and so help me, if you scratch it, I will turn you into a rug.”
“Noted,” the lycanthrope said, rising to his feet and settling into a crouch. “And what about my truck?”
“Take me hostage for ten minutes. They’ll either pay you to keep me or pay you to give me back. Use the money to fix your truck. Ideally, you’ll request an appropriate amount, because I’ll take offense if you get greedy.”
The lycanthrope spit blood. “I’ve learned something new today. The human spawn of gorgon are tough for flesh bags.”
Flesh bags? I rolled onto my stomach, got my arms beneath me, and glared. “Really? You call humans flesh bags?”
“You could let me tear the siding off that car. We’d be even, and maybe they’d learn how to drive.”
“Or maybe you’d learn not to run red lights, furface.”
“It was changing to green.”
“Still your fault. I’m trying to be generous here. We can just wait for the cops to show up instead and explain that while my grandfather unwisely drove through a yellow, you ran the red because you were expecting it to change to green.” I smiled, and the lights dancing in my vision annoyed a curse out of me. “Take the faked hostage situation. It can be his punishment for causing a car accident with his irresponsible driving.”
The lycanthrope sat back on his heels and looked me over, licking his bloodied muzzle. “It’s less sporting if it’s a faked one.”
“They’d probably take offense if it were a real one. Realistically, they’d petrify you and smash your statue to dust. Gorgons have a reputation for viciousness when cranky.”
“What do you think you’re doing, Tulip?” my grandfather hissed.
“I’m negotiating a non-violent resolution to the problem you caused, old man. Let me negotiate for a non-violent resolution in peace.”
“You tossed a five-hundred-pound hybrid over your shoulder and punched him in the mouth. I fail to see how this is non-violent,” my grandfather muttered. “I’m sure our friend would’ve limited his damage to superficial repairs.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I see no need to play by your rules. My rules state this is a non-violent resolution.”
My grandfather sighed. “Your rules lack common sense and logic.” He turned his attention to the lycanthrope. “How much would I need to pay you to keep her? I can’t promise she won’t escape, a
nd I’d have to take offense if she wished to leave and you restrained her inappropriately, but I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.”
“I set a ten-minute limit on this arrangement already,” I reminded them. “And I doubt my father would be very happy if you sold me, especially after having just bought me from my mother.”
My grandmother’s serpents hissed and swayed, but their tiny hats and veils did some serious damage to her lethality rating. “That’s true. He’d be quite upset with us, dear. It’s not like he’s bred any replacements yet. We should wait to sell this one until he’s bred another. Although, maybe we should advise him against breeding again. I think we’ve made a mistake.”
I suspected the exposure to my grandparents and listening to me ruined the lycanthrope’s mood, as he got up, went to his busted truck, and returned shortly with an insurance form. “Why don’t we just exchange information and let the insurance companies handle it?”
My grandmother’s serpents settled, and she made herself comfortable in her car. “That’s a lovely idea. That’ll minimize how long we have to deal with those pesky police officers.”
I’d forgotten about the police officers, and I sighed, staggered to my feet, and wobbled to the convertible. “Self-defense. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it,” I declared, climbing into the back, careful to keep my bleeding hand away from the upholstery. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Clouded Leopard?”
“Of course. We were having a non-violent negotiation regarding the damage to my truck.”
I looked the lycanthrope in the eyes, smiled, and said, “Next time, don’t drive your truck into a fire hydrant.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And don’t run red lights, even when you think the light is about to change, because let’s face it, I’m probably the only person in this country who doesn’t run the yellows.”
The lycanthrope turned to my grandparents. “Is she always this annoying?”
My grandmother lifted her hands, mimed shaking a magic eight ball, and said, “All signs point to yes.”
“Good to know.”
The lycanthrope looked like he wanted to say something else, but the police arrived, took one look at my bloody hand and the lycanthrope’s missing teeth, and ensured I’d be spending the rest of the day convincing a haughty doctor was immune to lycanthropy.
This time, I hoped I got my lollipop. All things considered, I’d earned it.
10
In the future, I needed to do more research on lycanthropes. Had I done my research properly, I would’ve known even the felines had puppy-like tendencies. The clouded leopard followed me to the hospital and watched me like I was the main dish at a catnip buffet. A stern no and snapping my fingers had gotten him to retreat to the waiting room while I faced off against doctors eager to prove I wasn’t actually immune to the virus. I’d gotten saddled with three of them, as unlike in Minnesota, they took gorgon royalty a bit more seriously.
Judging by the gleam in Dr. Margret Carden’s eyes, I wouldn’t be leaving her sight until she was satisfied I was in better than new condition.
“Lycanthropy is a serious concern, Tulip,” Dr. Carden repeated for the tenth time in as many minutes.
At least she didn’t laugh at my name.
“I’m sure it is, for people who aren’t immune to it. Go ahead, check my blood. You’re not going to find any traces of the virus. I’ve been exposed before. It’s not my fault the CDC won’t flag me as immune because they haven’t figured out what makes me immune.” I smiled for the woman. “You should be praising me. If I hadn’t fed that damned cat my knuckles, he would’ve ripped up a car before possibly targeting people who aren’t immune to the virus. That’s the trick to dealing with pissed off lycanthropes. You have to surprise them into forgetting why they’re angry in the first place. Then their virus settles down and they can regain control of themselves. That’s all I did. I surprised him.”
“Most sentients would be surprised when tossed by someone a fifth their size. Your self-defense instructor will be proud.”
My self-defense instructor was dead, and I’d been the one to kill the bastard, although he’d been good at teaching. He’d targeted his students because he’d loved when his victims put up a decent fight. “I’m sure he would be.”
Dr. Carden jabbed me in the shoulder, and I winced. “Your shoulder and back muscles lost that fight, I’ll have you know. Multiple sprains, and you’re lucky you didn’t break something. Then there’s the matter of your concussion. I was forwarded your hospital records from Minnesota. Are you trying to kill yourself, or do you enjoy testing the limits of the human body?”
“I forgot about the concussion,” I confessed. “My head wasn’t hurting at all when I decided the lycanthrope needed to not bust up my future car.”
“In the future, let the lycanthrope damage the car. Cars are easier to fix than people. As it is, you have twenty-seven new stitches, a hairline fracture, more sprains than I wish to count right now, and enough bruising you’re going to win awards for interesting colorations for the next week or two.”
I regarded the splint on my finger with a scowl. “It’ll heal in no time.”
Being a shapeshifter helped with that. I’d never match a lycanthrope, but I healed in half the time it took the average human. If I needed to push my luck, transforming would increase my recovery rate, too, although I’d pay for my impatience with fever, general malaise, and weight loss.
I’d learned early on being a shapeshifter wouldn’t save me from fatal injury; I’d cut it a little close a few too many times to believe myself immortal. I shouldn’t have launched a full-out assault against a lycanthrope, but I had several good reasons for my stupidity. The backup of two easily provoked gorgons took the top prize, and the public setting factored, too.
While it hadn’t crossed my mind when I’d tangoed with the clouded leopard, I’d built a new reputation for myself, one I hadn’t tried before.
It would make my work killing serial killers more difficult, but I looked forward to living a life where people thought I had more courage than sense. It would help me flirt with Justin, too.
If he was like any other bodyguard I’d ever met, nothing would trip his trigger quite like a reckless body to protect. I had no idea how my run in with a rival lycanthrope would factor.
No, I needed to ditch the kitty, because the kitty wasn’t the one I wanted. I wanted the man with the courage to stand up to black mambas and gorgons without breaking a sweat. I wouldn’t even hold Justin’s fear of my grandparents against him.
Any sane man would have a healthy fear for those two. They put me on edge wondering what they’d do.
I didn’t like men like the clouded leopard. Infection with the lycanthropy virus put him a step up from others like him, but if I caught his interest so easily, he’d lose interest just as readily. The lycanthropy virus could transform even the wildest swinger into a loyal husband, but it took time, and I deserved better than a wandering eye.
I needed a challenge, and I needed someone who loved me despite of—and because of—my myriad of flaws. That mean showing him my bad side out of the gate, challenging him, and emerging the victor regardless.
And I needed to see his bad sides, too, and emerge on the other side still wanting him.
So far, I liked what I saw in Justin.
The clouded leopard had temper and fire, but he lacked something, although I wasn’t sure what.
“Miss Tulip,” Dr. Carden complained.
“Do you think no is enough to deter the leopard outside? Because I don’t want him, Dr. Carden.”
“As soon as it’s proven, without evidence of a doubt, that he hasn’t infected you with his virus, I’m sure no will be a sufficient answer. I’d like to remind you, Miss Tulip, that lycanthropes are very serious about mating, and should he have infected you, a single female, he will become a permanent attachment. The infection will ensure your acceptance of him as well.”
&nbs
p; “Then it’s a really good thing I’m immune. While I’m interested in a lycanthrope, he isn’t the one I’m interested in.”
“You don’t have an immunity rating with the CDC, Miss Tulip.”
I held out my arm. “Go ahead. Test me.”
“It takes three days—”
“I’m telling you there’s no point in waiting three days, because no matter which scanner you pull out, I’m going to test negative for the virus.”
“It’s only been two hours since exposure, Miss Tulip.” Dr. Carden frowned at her collection of gadgets, picking one up. “I do have a high sensitivity scanner that’s capable of detecting contamination, but two hours isn’t sufficient to remove contamination, even among the immune.”
I kept my arm lifted for her. “I break the rules.”
“I find that highly unlikely.”
“Then you’ll enjoy gloating should the test show contamination, Dr. Carden. What looks like a human, talks like a human, and looks like a human isn’t necessarily human. My father’s a gorgon. My mother’s a mermaid. Neither species is human.”
“According to your file, you have human genetics.”
“Yes, yes, over fifty percent, so I’m a human in the eyes of the law. That doesn’t change the fact I’m not really a human, Dr. Carden. I’m immune to lycanthropy.”
“Then I suppose the tests will decide that.” The doctor scowled, but she started the scanner. “Your insurance company isn’t going to be pleased with this.”
“And they’ll approve the scan because it’s going to show clean, which means they don’t have to pay for lycanthropy monitoring. How many times will I have to repeat myself before someone believes me?”
“When the CDC flags you as immune, I suspect.”
Within ten minutes, the doctor had her verdict. I scanned clean, and I even took the high road for once in my life, not saying a word while Dr. Carden confirmed the results three additional times because she couldn’t believe what her machines were telling her.
Sirens and Scales Page 39
