by Vonnie Davis
Paisley poured the hot water over a tea bag and made another cup for Cameo. “I understand the feeling. I can talk to animals and they to me.” She shrugged as she dipped her tea bag. “Most of my life I thought I was insane. Dogs tell me the brand of dry food their owners give them constipates them. A mare who’s foaling can tell me her foal is coming the wrong way. I can help calm her. Turn the small colt the right way. People don’t understand how I can do that, so they look at me strangely.”
“I understand completely. When I tell someone they’re going to get sick or break a bone or get attacked somewhere, they typically back up a step or two.”
They talked and shared their unusual gifts as they sipped tea and nibbled on biscuits. Creighton entered the kitchen and quickly tied his robe. “I woke up to a cold bed. Are ye feeling ill, beloved?” He kissed his wife’s short blonde curls.
“I couldn’t quiet my head after the party, so I came down for some tea. When I found Cameo here, we started talking.” She reached across the table and patted her hand. “No wonder Gram is so fond of you. I’ve enjoyed our conversation. It’s helped relax me. My curse or gift makes me a very high-strung person. My husband will tell you I tend to cry a lot.”
“Aye, she can throw a tantrum. But so can I. We understand each other, which makes our need fer each other greater. Come back ta bed and we’ll have a snuggle. Cameo, thanks fer taking care of her.”
“She took care of me, too, by helping me look on my dreams with a different viewpoint.”
Five minutes before eleven, Cameo’s compact slowed once she turned from Walter Scott Avenue onto Bayview Way. The well maintained brick townhouses were older, more ornate than newer ones. To her pleasure, they sat on a higher street with a view of Mathe Bay. She searched for number 955. As soon as she saw it, a motorbike zoomed around her and took the parking space in front of the house she’d been aiming for. She swerved, cussing and grumbling, as she drove to the end of the street where she turned around. On the other side of the street was an empty parking spot she nosed her car into.
A man, dressed in black, stood on the stoop of the black-shuttered townhouse speaking to Earnan. Effie stood behind her husband, an unhappy expression wrinkling her face. Cameo jogged across the narrow quiet street in her tight jeans and gray and blue sneakers and started up the exterior steps.
“Och, here comes our new tenant, now. I dinna ken how ye heard this flat was fer rent, but I’m afraid ye were misinformed. We wish ye luck in finding suitable housing fer yer needs."
The man spun, irritation on a face marked with thirteen stars and eight half-moon tattoos. Cameo froze. It was him! The HSS man from her dreams. Her heart was clawing its way up her throat as his green gaze connected with hers. “Nice seeing ye again, Cameo. I recognized yer auld car.”
He knows my name!
Her heart beat stuttered to a stop for a few beats. In her silent shock, he had the audacity to wrap his hands around her waist and lift her from the lower step to the stoop. He stepped around her and strode toward his bike.
A wave of terror swept through her as she teetered on her feet and grabbed for the wrought iron railing around the small porch. Dear God in heaven. He knows my name!
Earnan wrapped his hand around her bicep. “Cameo, look at me.” He pulled down her bottom eyelashes and drew her inside. “Effie, luv, she’s in shock. Make her some of yer special tea. Do ye have any in yer purse?”
“Yes. You know I always carry it. Who was that creepy guy? How did he scare Cameo so badly?” While her husband helped Cameo through the foyer and the door leading to the apartment, Effie rummaged through a pink purse setting on a green leather chair until she removed a plastic bag of tea leaves and a vial of something.
Cameo glanced at her trembling hands. She’d seen people from her dreams before. That part was no big deal. After all, she’d seen and talked to Bowie yesterday morning to warn him. But…but this guy…this evil murderer had recognized her! As if he’d somehow been privy to her dreams. How did this criminal enter her dream world? Her knees buckled in shock. Earnan swooped her into his arms and gently placed her onto a gray suede sofa.
Effie slapped the bag of tea and a small bottle of brown liquid against her husband’s chest. “Love bug, you make the tea. One teaspoon of leaves, add the boiling water, and put two drops—two, mind you—of my special potion in the drink as it steeps. I’ll take care of Cameo.”
She placed her bony hip against Cameo’s as she sat next to her lying form. “Is the room spinning?”
“Yes.” How did he know my name? How?
Effie pulled an Afghan folded across the back of the sofa down over Cameo and tucked it around her. The older woman carried the scent of baby powder again today. “Lie still then. Inhale and exhale slowly.” Her cool fingers feathered over Cameo’s brow. “That man had a pure black aura. I read them, you know. He reeked of evil. Where do you know him from that prompted him to say he was glad to see you again? All the color drained from your face and your aura became edged in muddy gray from fear.”
The teapot whistled in the background. She supposed there was no use keeping this from them. If she seemed strange, then the three of them ought to be a matched set. She gazed into Effie’s caring eyes and began. “I have prophetic dreams.”
By the time Cameo had finished her story, she sat curled in the corner of the sofa beneath the blanket while Effie sat next to her. Both held a mug of tea, expertly made by Earnan, who had slouched on a dark green chair by the bay window. His elbow rested on the arm with his chin propped in his upturned hand, as if absorbing every word she’d said.
Cameo tried not to notice how his kilt shifted when he spread his legs. Surely her imagination was playing tricks on her. She thought she saw his tail-feather.
The room fell silent for a minute. Then Earnan straightened in his chair as if taking command. “Now I understand why Creighton called fer a mandatory meeting of the leaders tonight. He’ll want us all on the lookout fer this gang.”
“I had another dream last night. Only one this time, but I credit a late night cup of tea and a long conversation with Paisley for that. I didn’t feel as crazy when I went back to bed. I was more relaxed after talking with her. She was so understanding. Just like you two are.”
“Can ye tell us yer latest dream?” Earnan crossed his legs and tugged on his kilt.
Once she told them, he replied. “I hope ye dinna mind if I share it with the leaders tonight. Several have sheep.”
“Please do.” Cameo took another sip of her tea.
“Lovebug, while you’re at the meeting, that will give me a chance to do some research on Cameo’s dreams.” Then she turned to Cameo. “Was this the first a person from your dreams who spoke to you out of recognition, as if he’d detected he’d been part of it? Or had met you before?”
“No. We’d never met before.” She touched the older woman’s arm. “Effie, he even knew my name. That’s why I lost it. My mind couldn’t comprehend how he could know me.” Bolstered by the tea, Cameo shuddered a long exhale of fear, cleansing her body of it. “Wow, this tea really does help. Thank you, Earnan.”
He smiled and it warmed his features. “I’ve retired from practicing medicine to making tea, so I have. That and keeping up with me wife.” He winked at Effie. “Cameo, we’d understand if ye dinna feel up to looking at the flat now.”
She unwrapped from the cover and stood. “No. I’m ready. That man is not entering my life and ruining my plans. Bad enough he entered my dreams. Besides, I’m eager to have my own place to get settled in. Who lives upstairs?”
Earnan laughed. “A confirmed bachelor, set in his ways and always on schedule. He’s a good man, so he ′tis. If yer ever get feart, go to him or call. He’ll protect ye. All right, let me give ye the grand tour.” He walked to the front door. “I’ll explain how the entrance works. She was on his heels, eager to focus her mind on something else than those chilling tattoos.
“Parking will nae be a problem fer ye
.” He opened the door and stepped out on the stoop. “This little pull-in space facing the living room ′twas always mine. Anytime I got an emergency call in the middle of the night, I needed to get to me car right away not try to remember if I’d parked up or down the street. The upstairs tenant has been using it since I moved out, but I’ll tell him the parking spot goes with the lower floor. Dinna worry.
The briny smell of the bay reached her, told her this was home. Waves could be heard arguing with the same cliffs they’d been beating against for centuries. Sunlight glistened off the bay’s blue water caught her attention as did a sailboat, its sails open with the wind. What a perfect location. She didn’t feel fenced in.
“The outside door is always kept locked. Both tenants have their own key. It’s the brass lock and uses the brass key.” Back inside, he pointed to the stairway. “Obviously, this is his and the door to his apartment is at the top of the steps with its own lock. He does have a dog, Tiny, but he’s nae bother. The door to yer part has a silver lock and key. Ye may go fer ages without seeing each other, although ye may hear Tiny sniffing and whining at yer door before or after his walk. Yer nae allergic, are ye?”
“No. I was thinking of getting a pet. A kitten or a bird, maybe.”
They’d stepped back in the living room and Effie took her hand. “I know just the one. My cat had kittens and two are left. I’ll talk to Tinkerbell and KeeKee to see which one would like to come live with you. She’d have to be willing to step into your dreams with you so you’re not so alone and scared. Don’t worry, I’ll explain how to them.”
Holy crap, in the blink of an eye, Effie could go from sweet as chocolate to pure nuts.
Earnan must be deaf as hell or he just overlooked everything Effie said, because he showed no reaction to her remark about a kitten joining Cameo in her dreams. His deep, calming voice took over. “The fireplace is gas and turns on with this remote on the mantle. It helps augment the furnace on an extra cool day, but doona go to bed with it burning.”
“Okay, I won’t.” The walls were painted the palest shade of gray and the floor was hardwood with a large oval rug of a deeper gray with large calla lilies and deep green leaves. There were two dark green leather chairs at the bay window with a table and pewter lamp between them. The gray suede sofa and an end table took up the opposite wall. A desk sat against the wall of the front door.
He led her on. “The kitchen is your everyday fare.” The cabinets and appliances were white and the tiled counter and backsplash were shiny navy. At the opposite end of the room, a backdoor opened to a small deck. A navy padded eating booth sat near the door. “Ye’ve got dishes, glasses, and silverware.” He opened doors and drawers to show her. “Microwave over the stove and a few small appliances. Pots and pans. Spices.”
She’d planned on buying a minimum amount of furniture to get her started. Go to a used store to get plates and things. With this flat, she’d have almost everything she needed. She really hoped the rent was reasonable.
To the left of a small hall was the loo with both a tub and a stand-alone shower. On the right of the hall was a laundry room and extra closet space. Earnan opened the door at the end of the hall. “Here’s what Effie called the ‘den of inequity.’”
Cameo tried to eliminate that visual from her mind. In an emerald green room was a huge brass bed flanked by nightstands, a dresser and a huge closet. She liked it, she really did. “How much is the rent?” He quoted her a figure and she knew he was being generous because of his wife. “I’ll take it. How soon can I move in?”
“Tonight, if ye like.” He handed her the keys and the lease to sign. She wrote a check and passed it to him. The deal was done.
“Where do I go to buy towels and bed linens. I want to sleep here tonight.” She had a new job and a new home. “Were you serious about a kitten, Effie?”
“Okay, first the shopping,” the lady in pink replied. “There’s a delightful households store on Main Street—Jillian’s. But she closes at six. Second, there’s a pet store across the street about three doors up. It’s called Fin and Claw. Tell Alastair I sent you. I should be by tonight with your new baby. I just need to talk to them first. Cats get a little pissy if you put them where they don’t want to be.”
“Earnan, may I replace some of the wall hangings?” He liked boat-themed things, while she loved flowers.
He waved her check. “This is yer home now. Do as ye wish.”
Chapter 6
After all the men and women on the bear shifter council were assembled in Creighton’s large office, he locked the door. “Since we’ll be discussing a distressing topic tonight, I nae want me twins ta come toddling in, searching fer a hug from their da. Does everyone have a drink?”
He glanced around the room. “Good. As ye ken, Bowie Matheson has been named ta replace Kendric when he takes over as Chief of Police on Sonas Isle. Bowie came ta me with some information ye all need ta ken. I’ll let him tell ye, same as he told me. Then we’ll talk.” Creighton sat and took a sip of his whisky.
Bowie wiped the sweat from his palms on his kilt before he stood. He’d never had to lead a meeting with the leaders of the council before. As he glanced around the room, faces he ken all his life stared back. Aye, he ken them well. He’d done his research. There was nothing one of them could throw at him that he couldna handle.
“Day before yesterday, I received word that members of a gang in Glasgow is spreading in our direction, if they’re nae here already.” Once Cameo left headquarters earlier yesterday, he was on the phone with the Chief of Police in Glasgow, gaining more information. He wanted to be on top of his game tonight. Knowledgeable as bloody hell so he’d make a good impression as the up and coming head of detectives.
“What kind of gangs?” Davina Matheson, nurse and well-respected shifter leaned forward. “Bad shifters who’ve gone rogue?”
“No. A criminal group of humans who go by the initials, HSS, which stand for Highland Savage Snakes. They’re in their twenties and use sawed-off shotguns, knives, and machetes.”
“Machetes?” A few shouted in surprise.
“Aye. They’re into robberies, selling drugs and capturing children and attractive women for the human sex trafficking trade.” The room went silent and Bowie’s gaze skittered from one concerned face to another. “Fer every kill they get a small star tattooed on their face and a half-moon fer every machete kill.”
“Merciful heavens, a man with tattoos like that came into my bakery a couple days ago and bought a few loaves of bread. He asked me if I always worked alone.” Glynnis buttoned and unbuttoned the top of her cardigan in a show of nerves.
Damn near everyone drained their glasses of Creighton’s best whisky. The laird walked around the council refilling their tumblers. “Keep going, Bowie. Ye were right ta bring this ta me. Paisley and I will keep a closer eye on our bairns because of yer foresight.”
“I’m only doing me job, Creighton. We have a new resident who has prophetic dreams of bad things that will happen. Her dreams are what brought the issue to me attention. I was dealing with an increase of robberies and didna ken why. We have so little of that kind o’ thing here. Ta back up her story, I called the Chief of Police in Glasgow to bleed him fer information. He was very forthcoming. The group is dangerous, diabolical, and deathly. They have strong leanings toward the Neo-Nazis. We canna take them lightly.”
“I had one come knocking at the door of me townhouse just this morning,” Earnan added. All heads swiveled in his direction, eyes wide in shock.
“Me old flat has been empty since Effie and I married. When a new lawyer in town was talking about finding a place to live, I offered to show her me former residence. Effie and I were there to give it a quick dusting when someone pounded on the outside door. I answered and this hellacious looking man with tattoos on one side of his face stood in front of me. Said he’d heard I had a place to rent. Asked how many bedrooms it had. How he heard all that, I havena a clue because I’d never advertised
the flat.
“I was in the process of telling him it was already taken when Cameo Stone, the lawyer, pulled to the curb across the street. She started up the steps and he grabbed her by the waist, lifting her—”
Bowie’s bear roared. Everyone there ken what that meant and chuckled.
Thanks fer letting that cat out o’ the bag, ye windy feckin’ bear. Now everyone kens ye’ve claimed her.
Bear’s fur popped out on Bowie’s hands, so did his claws. No one touches our mate! He’s a dangerous man and he had his hands on her. I want to shift and hunt the bastard down. Rip him apart. Only ye can touch her.
While Bowie made a conscious effort to rein in his bear half, Earnan thumbed a number on his cell. “Effie, luv, guess whose bear has chosen Cameo for his human half?” The retired doctor snorted and laughed so hard he could barely speak—the bloody fool. “Bo…Bowie’s. And…and we just put them”—more laughter—“in the same house. Oh, this oughta be good.” He snorted once more and ended the call. He stared at Bowie a few seconds before he burst out laughing again.
“This is nae fookin’ laughing matter! These gang members are dangerous. We need to focus on their being in our area.” Bowie pointed his finger around the room. “And who me bear just claimed fer me is nae a topic fer conversation or joking. I’m still nae sold on the idea meself.” Bloody hell, maybe, just maybe that was a lie. But why did the fooker put his hands on Cameo? Maybe tattoo man needed his arms broken.
“Believe me, man,” Creighton said. “We never are. When mine chose an emotional blonde visiting from America, I was nae pleased. The idea quickly grows. The protectiveness. The gut-wrenching need.”
Every male in the room nodded and mumbled, “Aye, the gut-wrenching need.”
The four women on the council laughed.
Damn, Bowie was teetering on the edge of frustration now. “Can we get back ta the topic at hand? The HSS? I have more information to go over with ye and then we need to discuss ways to make our families safer.”
