I Kissed a Dog

by Carol Van Atta

  Leaning against the deck’s wooden rail, I gazed into the line of trees and foliage that separated the restaurant from the beach and pounding surf.

  The moon was bright, and I spotted one of several paths that wound through the brush leading to the soft sand beyond. The temptation to slip off my jeweled-stilettos and make a dash for the beach almost proved too enticing resist. It felt as if someone had beguiled my senses and was beckoning me to leave my party and dance to the more natural night melodies.

  An involuntary shudder swept through me as the moisture-tinged breeze rustled the trees. The compelling need to leave the lighted patio’s protection was growing stronger the longer I remained.

  A movement on the nearest path seized my attention. I strained to see who or what was standing just beyond the light, obscured in the shadows.

  “Hello … is anyone there?” I heard myself ask.

  A man stepped forward, his skin illuminant in the moonlight. “I can come no closer, Chloe. This place has been warded by magic to keep uninvited guests away. You, however, could invite me to cross the ward.”

  Wards? Magic? Why was I even surprised? I’d learned more about the unseen world that existed around me this past week than a heroine in a paranormal novel.

  “Please, I must speak with you. I have information that will help you,” the stranger said, his voice sending shivers down my spine. My neck tingled in anticipation. I wanted the man in the moonlight to put his mouth on my throat, although I couldn’t fathom why.

  “Yes, Chloe, you remember. That moment in Las Vegas was but a taste of the pleasure I can give you.”

  My heart raced faster in response. I opened my mouth to do as he asked.

  “Hurry! Someone is coming!” he commanded, fiercer this time.

  Suddenly uncertain, I froze. My indecision was just long enough to allow another figure to burst through the trees and onto the moonlit lawn.

  Stooped and reeking of fresh blood, the newcomer released a ferocious growl and lunged toward Valamir. Valamir! — My warrior vampire from the Vegas nightclub. How could I have mistaken the seducing creature for anyone else?

  The snarling, slobbering mutant-monster was horrifying. About as far from appealing as you could get. Saliva and blood dripped from his jagged fangs. Who had he been eating?

  Furious, the thing snapped at the air just in front of Valamir, who with his lightening speed countered each attempt. The mutant, enraged by his adversary’s offensive prowess, roared and dove for the vampire. Instead of sinking his massive claws into his prey, the mutant found himself hugging a swirling cloud of glittery silver.

  I didn’t bother turning when the double doors behind me burst open. I was too mystified by Valamir’s hasty vanishing act. Apparently, the mutant wolf was too. He swung his massive head both directions seeking his missing prey. One second Valamir had been in the clearing, wanting me; now he’d disappeared leaving me with an unexplainable unexpected sense of emptiness.

  Why did I feel empty? How could he make me forget Zane for even a second? I wasn’t in love with the vampire; nor was I a fickle woman.

  “What the hell?” Zane shouted before catapulting over the railing. He landed with an ominous thud in front of the mutant.

  “Get in the bar!” Zane roared at me. Then, so fast that I barely registered the movement, he pulled out a gleaming blade concealed beneath his pant leg.

  He plunged the blade into the mutant’s neck. Dark crimson spewed from the fatal wound, darkening Zane’s white dress shirt.

  In a flash of shimmering light, Alcuin appeared next to the fallen creature. He gripped its arm and they both vanished in a cascade of silver sparkles that reminded me not only of the fake fairy dust I used to keep in a little bottle as a child, but also of Valamir’s departure a few moments earlier. One thing was obvious; both vamps shared the same traveling techniques and special effects.

  The whole incident had happened so fast a camera probably would have missed it. My feet were frozen. I couldn’t have moved to make it inside.

  “What’s going on out here?” several voices chorused, as more footsteps rushed onto the deck.

  “Animal attack,” Zane pronounced. “A large cougar was stalking Chloe. I got here before it pounced.”

  “Thank God you’re all right all right; someone inside mentioned spotting a big cat recently.” Misty patted my shoulder. I couldn’t tell if she was buying Zane’s story or helping him make it more believable. I assumed the later.

  “Should we hunt it?” someone asked. “We could get our guns.”

  “There’s no need. I got it good with my hunting knife. I keep it with me at all times. I’ve learned the hard way that nature doesn’t always behave the way we expect.” Zane brushed off his jacket and stalked up the steps at the patio’s far end, the crimson stain on his shirt the preternatural struggle’s last remaining evidence.

  “Are you okay, Princess?” I thought I told you to get inside.

  Choosing to ignore his second comment, I nodded, still not sure what to say. For some irrational reason, I’d already decided to keep my Valamir-sighting to myself. The thought of enduring the barrage of questions Zane and his pack were bound to ask seemed too overwhelming. Besides, Valamir was trying to help me. Maybe he knew something about the murders. I also knew if Zane found out about Valamir’s presence he’d get all over-protective and forbid me to talk with the vampire. Overprotection was really going to be a challenge. Very nice when I was agreeable but hell when I wasn’t.

  Zane looked down at his dress shirt. “Let me change. The cake is waiting.”

  I just nodded, still unable to make my mouth form words.

  Our guests appeared unruffled and were already returning to the party. Free drinks had that effect. People would forget the excitement if it meant an opportunity to consume unlimited quantities of alcohol on somebody else’s dime. And unlike me, they hadn’t witnessed the brutal fight between a mutant and vampire. I doubted even free booze would have done the job had they caught a peek of the otherworldly spectacle.

  Now the last remaining evidence of the violence was the blood soaking Zane’s shirt. In a few minutes that would be gone too, and for most people the incident would be forgotten.

  Not for me.

  “Misty …” Zane nodded in my direction.

  “I got her.” Misty shook her head at his retreating form. “Come on, blushing bride; let’s get you ready for your cake-cutting photo-op.”

  I allowed her to lead me inside and through the tangle of dancing, drinking bodies. Even in my current zombie-like state I knew that it was important for me to learn about the so-called magic and wards that Valamir had mentioned. But asking one of my werewolf companions was out of the question.

  Maybe it was time I trusted Alciun with my secret.

  ***

  Chapter 20

  Waking up in Zane’s bed didn’t seem as strange as I’d expected. I’d already spent one memorable night in his lackluster apartment, but not as his new bride.

  That first night we’d had some pretty intense kissing action before our supernatural encounter with Detective Davis and her hybrid flunkies. This time, as promised, he’d kept his hands to himself leaving me huddled on the bed’s right side (far right, I might add) fighting for my share of the blankets.

  Summer on the Oregon Coast was unpredictable, making it top priority that I figure out some way to stay warm during the long nighttime hours. I wanted to curl up in his arms. However, we hadn’t stopped long enough for me to come to terms with the fact I was married to a werewolf. It all happened so fast. I needed to catch my breath and think.

  At last night’s reception, we’d managed to complete the cake cutting ceremony with no additional drama. Our intoxicated guests hadn’t seemed at all bothered by our early departure. After all, we were newlyweds, supposedly madly in love.

  If they knew how I’d spent my second night as a new bride debating whether or not to kill my husband — or seduce him — they might have
questioned our rush to escape the festivities.

  In reality, it was jealously not love that drove us out the doors before midnight.

  Zane had grown impatient with all the male attention I was receiving. It seemed the longer the liquor flowed, the bolder the men became. Zane had no sense of humor when it came to me being ogled by other males. I guessed it was a wolf thing, because I’d never known a man to be so territorial. On some level, his possessive behavior scared me, yet at the same time made me feel valued, even cherished. As long as he didn’t start lifting his leg to mark his territory, we’d manage.

  His actions would always illicit conflicting emotions, but boredom wasn’t something I’d ever have to worry about.

  “Coffee?” he called from the kitchenette.

  I was surprised to hear him already banging around in his kitchen. It was 8:00 AM on Saturday. We were off work for the weekend, and, as far as I knew, we had no major plans until Monday’s board meeting.

  Thankful to be wearing sweats in the morning chill, I padded as noiselessly into the kitchen as I could. I wanted to see him at work doing something other than beating up bad guys or bad dogs.

  “Trying to sneak up on me, weren’t you?” He leaned against the kitchen’s sole counter, arms crossed.

  “Supersonic hearing, how could I forget? Just curious what you’re doing in here.”

  His lip twitched in a way that I was beginning to recognize as Zane’s method of “smile control.” Looking overly happy wasn’t in his nature.

  “You were sneaking, hoping to catch me doing something domestic,” he teased.

  “No comment? Since when is Princess Chloe so quiet? I was expecting a sarcastic comeback.” He turned to stir something on the two-burner stove.

  A whiff of sure-to-be tasty spices sent my stomach into a fit of growls and gurgles.

  “My mate is hungry. I hope you like biscuits and gravy made from scratch.”

  I nodded.

  His cooking expertise was a very pleasant and unexpected surprise. If the women at last night’s party had known about this particular trait, they’d probably have plotted something unthinkable and very illegal, to get me out of the picture for good. A gorgeous, masculine man who cooks; that was a lethal combination any woman would appreciate and admire.

  “I admit; I’m impressed.”

  Zane grinned. His pleasure at my words was undeniable, causing me to draw in a quick breath. Goodness! A simple smile and I was left breathless. I needed to find a way to control my betraying emotions. I’d committed to making this marriage miserable for him, not a relationship full of compliments and early morning cheer.

  Sensitive to my underlying feelings, he refrained from making any additional remarks. Opening the oven, he pulled out a tray of biscuits. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “We are!” Mack called from outside, his booming voice penetrating through the closed door. “Open up or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow …”

  “Yeah, yeah. This big bad wolf is not in the mood for visitors. I’m a married man now. So take your hungry pup and go someplace where you two can super-size your meals,” Zane called out the open window.

  Under normal circumstances I would have been annoyed by the intrusion, but having the father son duo in for breakfast would help relieve the tension and temptation that lingered in the kitchen.

  “You might as well let them in. We don’t want two hungry wolves patrolling the park today,” I said.

  “You heard the lady, breakfast is served.” Several plates clanked together, as Zane reached for more dishes. I was surprised by how quickly he’d agreed. Maybe he was as uncertain about how to deal with me as I was him.

  “Thanks, Chloe. We owe you,” Michael laughed as I swung the door open.

  “We thought you might want an update,” Michael added.

  For the first ten minutes, nobody spoke. We all shoveled Zane’s biscuits and gravy into our mouths like we’d never seen food before. I’d never tasted such a scrumptious breakfast. Not even my step dad’s homemade waffles could compare.

  Long before the men finished with their third helpings, I’d pushed my plate away and was rubbing my swollen stomach. I was certain someone might mistake me for a woman in her second trimester of pregnancy. Despite my fullness, my taste buds were still screaming for more food while my insides protested.

  Being around wolves wasn’t good for the waistline. I’d have to watch what I ate if I wanted to keep my figure. I assumed that werewolves burned huge quantities of calories during the shifting process. Presumably, running around in wolf form also burned a fair share. If I could be so lucky.

  What was I thinking? I’d never consider becoming a werewolf. And taking into consideration my human status, if bitten, I’d turn into a freakish mutant. I’d have to find another, more acceptable way to burn off my extra caloric intake. Maybe Zane had a gym membership. We could work out together.

  Abruptly, Zane made a satisfied groaning sound. He tipped his chair back and wiped his mouth with another napkin. He and Mack had accumulated quite a pile of napkins between their two plates. At least Michael seemed to have more refined table manners.

  “Good stuff,” Mack confirmed. “Where did you learn to cook like that?”

  “Who cares?” Michael interrupted. “As long as we get to reap the rewards.”

  “Both my mother and my father were good cooks. So was my sister.”

  “Well, good for all of you,” Mack managed to say before taking another huge bite.

  A few minutes later, the men joined me in rubbing their stomachs and looking stuffed at last. Though I doubted they minded the “ready to burst” feeling as much as I did.

  Mack, now settled with his feet up, explained that Officer Tate had visited the park on two occasions, and that Agent Green had stopped in once. They’d also received a late night visit from Detective Davis and her mystical minions. They all had been seeking more answers and were eager to know when Zane and I would return.

  Both Michael and Mack sensed that Officer Tate and Detective Davis had no qualms with Zane or me. But the shifty FBI agent seemed suspicious of us both — in particular — me.

  Why would anyone think that I had a part in the murders? Sure, I’d known two of the victims, and I’d dated Will, but it was a small town where everyone knew everyone. Paths were bound to cross often.

  Will hadn’t exactly been a prude either. Last summer he’d spent some very intimate one-on-one time with Rhonda following our short-lived relationship, if you could even call it a relationship. She’d made certain that the entire park staff knew the details of their escapades.

  Why didn’t Agent Green take a long look her way?

  Rhonda had been furious when Will had decided to cut her off. And far more important than Rhonda’s unlikely involvement was the fact that any halfway intelligent person would know I didn’t have the physical strength, let alone a motive, to carry out such heinous crimes.

  Just like the crime dramas my step dad was addicted to — something just didn’t add up. But unlike the TV shows, figuring out who-done-it wouldn’t be neatly gift-wrapped with a bow and delivered in sixty minutes or less.

  “Why me?” I looked up at Zane as he took a seat next to me on his lumpy sofa.

  His eyes drifted to my clenched hands. “Who knows? This whole thing reeks of the supernatural. Based on the info you pulled from Will’s pit bull, it’s probable that a mutant is the cause of the actual killing, and a rogue werewolf, a female, is somehow involved. Why they’d even suspect a human is beyond me.”

  “Zane, have you forgotten, not everyone knows about the supernatural world? A few days ago, I would have thought you were all insane for even mentioning werewolves and vampires. Why would Agent Green, a plain old human being, think that anything other than a human or wild animal was the culprit?

  They probably don’t believe the puppy told me anything. Or, worse, they think I’m lying to protect the killer. Possibly one of us.” The more I thou
ght about the out-of-town FBI agent, the more unsettled I felt. He gave me the creeps times ten.

  “What about the park animals?” Zane turned to Michael, since he’d been the one watching over them while his father was manning the front booth and handling other security issues.

  “They seemed calm for the most part. A little nervous at nightfall, but, overall, everything was normal.”

  Michael’s update added to my theory that we’d been implicated. “No wonder they’re suspicious of us. We leave town and everything stops. No new murders; no animal attacks; nothing.” Why did it still feel like I was missing an important piece, something obvious?

  “I still think Jazmine is involved. How, I can’t put it together, but I will.” Zane’s eyes narrowed.

  “Down big guy,” Mack soothed. “We know how you feel about Jazmine, but really, why would she waste her time on something like this. Small town murders aren’t her specialty. She’s all about making money and gaining power.”

  I wanted to remind Mack that killing for a killer was a sure path to power.

  I listened while the men hashed out their theories and talked about the upcoming board meeting.

  Logan was getting ready to present his ideas about expanding their hotels in the Pacific Northwest off the reservations, focusing less on gambling and more on family activities.

  I couldn’t help remembering the very public murder associated with a similar request in the past. Everything was somehow connected, figuring out how was proving far more difficult than anyone had expected.

  Chapter 2112

  Taking a tour of the recent murder scenes was not my idea of a relaxing Saturday afternoon, especially after last night’s stress-inducing wedding reception. I agreed with Zane’s plan to launch our own investigation because I wasn’t going to relax until we solved these murders and I cleared my name of wrong doing and my head of everything but Zane.