by AE Jones
“So it was probably not his actual home.”
“Looks like it. His tax records show him working as a mechanic at a body shop in Brook Park. Maybe some of his mechanic friends are in the poaching business, too…”
“We need a reason to get close to them,” Jean Luc suggested.
“Does Jason still have his beater truck?”
“Yes.”
I clicked the intercom. “Jason Watson, please report to the principal’s office.”
* * *
Jean Luc, Jason, and I stood in the parking garage staring at Jason’s truck. It was a quad-cab Chevy from the eighties. From the looks of the outside, it had seen better days. There were several large rust spots along the truck bed and the blue paint was fading.
I grimaced. “It might be a lost cause.”
“This is a classic!” Jason sputtered.
“A classic piece of crap,” I retorted.
Jean Luc actually chuckled.
“I spent a lot of time on this truck.”
I gaped at him. “Are you serious?”
“I’m an engine man, not a body man. It has a 350 small-block.”
I was impressed. “Did you rebuild it yourself? What is the engine compression?”
Jason’s right eyebrow raised, and he opened his mouth, but I held up my hand to stop him.
“Before you say something sexist like ‘How do you know about engines?’ let me enlighten you. My mom had a thing for mechanics when I was growing up. I spent a lot of time in the garage learning about cars. When I was sixteen, I helped rebuild a 1962 Corvette engine.”
Jason looked suitably awestruck. “Sweet. I shouldn’t be surprised you’re a gearhead.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. So if your engine is in good shape, we should ask about body work. Maybe it’ll give us a foot in the door.”
Jean Luc agreed. “I think you and Jason should approach them. The men who attacked us today probably got a good look at me this morning when I rammed their Jeep. If they are working at this shop, I might tip our hand.”
“Did you get a good look at them?” Jason asked.
“I got a quick look at the passenger firing the gun. I gave a description to Misha. He is going to enter it in the facial recognition program to see if we get a match.”
“Do you think they saw Jason or me when the window shattered in the SUV?”
Jean Luc paused a moment. “Not your faces, no. You both dove down to protect Trina. But your hair might be a different matter.”
“Yeah, well, I’m getting sick of purple anyway. Time for me to pick out a respectable color.”
Chapter 7
Jason and I sat at the back office table plotting our visit to the body shop tomorrow. We had decided not to rush over today in the heat of the moment. When the office door opened, Dolly came in with a plastic bag and held it out to me.
“What’s this?”
“Hair color.”
“Why…”
“Jean Luc mentioned you needed to dye your hair a normal color, and since you were busy back here, I told him I would run out and get you some.”
I looked at the bag like it was a rattlesnake. “He did mention normal color for a human right?”
“Yes! It can’t be any worse than that purple.”
Which was true. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
I accepted the bag, and she stomped off, hollering over her shoulder for me to call Misha.
I picked up my cell and hit speed dial.
Misha answered on the first ring.
“Hello.”
“Are you ready to be picked up?”
“Yes, have Jason come, too. Trina wants to see both of you. I’ve insisted you’re okay, but she wants to see you in the flesh.”
Half an hour later, Jason parked the SUV in Griffin’s driveway. I walked up to the large entry door and knocked.
I was half expecting a posh British butler to answer. Instead Beatrice opened it with a smile.
“Good to see you both again. Come in.”
“Where’s Misha?” I asked.
“He’s in the kitchen. He has an amazing appetite.”
I laughed. “You can say that again. We understand Trina wants to see us.”
“Yes, she’s upstairs. Stephanie insisted she take it easy today, but Trina doesn’t remember what happened in the SUV and she’s afraid you were hurt.”
Before I could respond, there was a commotion at the top of the stairs, followed by Stephanie yelling, “Trina, wait!”
I looked up. Trina beamed at us from the top of the stairs. “It’s okay, Mom, I told you Kyle and Jason were here.”
She wore pajamas and a robe and slippers. As she ran down the stairs toward us, she stumbled and pitched forward. My heart plummeted, but before I could react, Jason dove and caught her. He pivoted and landed on the floor with her on top of him. Bea and I ran over to help.
Stephanie appeared at the top of the stairs and shrieked. “Trina!”
Which caused a number of other shifters to come running, including Griffin, who rushed out of his office to take in the scene.
Trina scrambled off Jason, and he sat up laughing.
Stephanie ran down the stairs and snatched Trina into a hug, somehow managing to also check for injuries. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom. I knew Jason would catch me.”
“Trina, how many times have I told you not to run on the stairs! Apologize to Jason at once. You could have hurt him.”
Jason held up a hand. “I’m fine, Mrs. Connor. I grew up playing tackle football. Trina was like catching a feather.”
Trina giggled. “I am not a feather!”
Stephanie gave Trina a Searing Mom Stare before turning to Jason. “Please, call me Stephanie. This is the second time today you’ve saved my daughter, so I don’t think we should stand on formality. I didn’t get the opportunity earlier to thank you for protecting her.” She looked up at his bandage. “How’s your head?”
“I’m fine.”
She turned to me, probably much to Jason’s relief, since he looked ready to squirm. “Thank you, too, Kyle.”
Trina interrupted. “Are you guys staying for dinner? We’re having macaroni and cheese. It’s my favorite. Mr. Misha said it’s his favorite too.”
I sighed. Every food was Misha’s favorite food. “I don’t know, Trina.”
Griffin spoke up. “There’s plenty for everyone. Trina is being a better host than I am at the moment.” He walked up and held my gaze. “Please stay.”
I glanced at Jason. “You might as well tell Misha we’re staying for dinner.”
* * *
Between my full stomach and the lull of the drive back to my apartment, I dozed off. Before I knew it, we were parked in front of my building on the east side of Cleveland. I climbed out while Misha and Jason got my duffels from the back of the SUV.
I stood on the sidewalk for a moment, soaking in the ambiance. Not only was I back in Little Italy, but I was glad. I had always loved the turn of the century brick buildings, not to mention the fabulous foods available just a few steps away from my front door. Which was perfect for me, since I was not a cook.
I glanced up at my second-floor apartment. A light shone through the window. I groaned. Crap. How could I have forgotten about Matthew?
Jason noticed my gaze and looked up as well. “Do you have timers on your lights?”
“No. I’ve been letting someone sublet from me, and I forgot to call him.”
Misha looked at me in surprise. “Who is it?”
“Matthew Johnson.”
“Booger!” Misha growled. “I told you I would wring his neck the next time I saw him!”
“Mish, he saved my life. It’s time to cut him some slack!”
“Who the hell is Booger?” Jason’s expression would have been funny if I hadn’t been so worried about Matthew’s safety.
Misha stomped toward the building, and I ran after him, calling over my shoulder
to Jason, “I’ll explain later. Hurry up, I might need you to referee up there.”
Jason came jogging behind me, lugging the duffel bags. I took the stairs two at a time to keep up with Misha’s determined stride. When we reached my door, I pushed myself in front of Misha and placed my hands on his chest.
“Calm down, or I will not be bringing you pastries in the mornings.”
I knocked on the door, which felt strange, but I wanted to respect Matthew’s privacy. Within a few seconds, he opened the door and pulled me into his arms.
“Kyle! It’s great to see you.”
Misha growled behind me.
“Matthew, you remember Misha. And this is Jason.”
Matthew’s eyes widened. “The one who knocked you out and tried to run you over with his truck?”
“One and the same.”
Matthew glared at Jason, ignoring the fact that Misha was glaring at him. What a mess.
“I’m sorry to just drop in on you like this. Everything happened so quickly, I totally forgot to let you know I was back in town for a while.”
“No problem. I knew you were coming. Shifters are a pretty tight group, so I heard you were back to help Trina.”
“Do you have somewhere to stay?”
Misha interrupted me. “You don’t need to worry about that, Kyle. He freeloaded off of you for months. Tell me he’s been paying you rent this time.”
Matthew smirked at him. “Yes, I’m paying rent. Let me get this straight. You’re okay hanging around with a guy who tried to off Kyle twice, but you’re pissed at me for doing my job?”
“Really, Booger. A job which included living with a woman who had no idea who you were?” Misha countered.
“Who the hell is Booger!?” Jason grumbled.
That’s when I lost it. A giggle erupted into a full-fledged, perhaps somewhat hysterical laugh. And I couldn’t stop. Like one of those church laughs when you knew it was so not appropriate, but which just made it funnier. Plus I had no idea what pushed me over the edge…the lack of sleep, events of the past twenty-four hours, or something else.
I wiped my eyes and looked at the three of them. They had gotten eerily quiet, so I decided a little schooling might be in order.
“Jason, last year I took in a stray cat which I named Booger. Unbeknownst to me, Booger was actually Matthew, who had been hired to protect me. So I was a little surprised when I learned I had been living with a man for several months.”
I turned to my demon friend. “Misha, I have forgiven Matthew for tricking me. Since he saved my ass last year from the vamp, I think some slack is in order here.”
Finally, I looked at Matthew. “Jason thought I was a demon. He was under the impression all supes were out to kill humans, so he was merely protecting himself when he tried to kill me. When he realized his error, he apologized. Now, again, I’m sorry about the short notice. Do you have somewhere to stay?”
“Yep, already taken care of. I moved my stuff out this afternoon. Just wanted to see you and give your extra key back.”
“Great. Well, gentlemen, it’s time for me to say goodnight.”
It was funny how quickly the room cleared. Males avoided me when they thought I was over the edge. They were probably standing on the street shaking their heads and commiserating about the unpredictability of female hormones.
I sat for a second, the last of my energy swirling down the drain. It was strange to be back home. My apartment still looked the same; my comfy chair and ottoman were by the window with stacks of my books piled next to them. My mother’s chest sat on the floor on the other side of the window. Matthew had gotten out the blue fleece blanket I used in the winter and had it hanging on the back of the couch. It should have given me some comfort, but it didn’t.
I left my duffels in the living room—I would take care of them later—and walked into my bedroom. I could tell Matthew had put on fresh sheets and blankets. He truly was a sweetie. I took a quick shower and then slipped under the covers, exhausted. Tomorrow we would try to catch us some poachers.
Chapter 8
I studied the new me in the mirror. I had to admit I was genuinely surprised. Blonde. The one color I had never tried before, since I didn’t think it would go well with my gray eyes, but it actually worked. And it was more of a dirty blonde, so it went with my skin tone. Dolly had done good. I walked out of the bathroom and put on my usual black jeans and gray turtleneck before trudging to the kitchen.
Caffeine beckoned, but I didn’t know if Matthew had left any behind. I checked the cupboards, and my stomach twisted slightly when I found the French roast Dalton liked. I brewed a pot anyway. A grocery store run for essentials was in order. I surveyed my walk-in pantry and snickered when I saw the recycling bin chock full of empty cat food cans.
I sat down for a minute, leaning over my mug and taking an appreciative whiff of java. I had been so tired the night before that I hadn’t allowed the memories of Dalton to invade my brain. But now, sitting in the kitchen, drinking his favorite coffee, they attempted to sneak in uninvited. Coffee spilled on my hand, and I jerked. I was gripping the mug so hard I was surprised it was still in one piece.
I took a calming breath and walked over to the sink. Time to find some equilibrium. Of course, as luck would have it, calm was not in my forecast, because seconds later the scent of rose perfume invaded my nose. I stiffened. Holy crap. I knew what that meant.
I spun around and confirmed I was alone in the kitchen. I rushed into the living room and wasn’t surprised to see Marie in the middle of the room, morning sunlight shining through her body until she came into full corporeal form.
Goose bumps notwithstanding, I needed to know what this visit was about. “Marie, why are you here?”
She wouldn’t look me in the eye, and my stomach clenched. “Has something happened to Dalton?”
“No, no. Joe is fine. I…just needed to check on you. To see you’re all right for myself.”
I closed my eyes. “Marie…”
“I’m just so sorry about what I did. I’ve worried about you.”
“I understand why you did what you did. And I’ve let it go. I’m okay.”
“But you left your home and friends.”
“I needed some time to figure things out.”
“And have you?”
I opened my eyes. “Yes.”
She crossed her arms and frowned at me. “So you’ve figured out why you’re having memory flashes that aren’t your own?”
And there it was. The two-ton elephant was finally out in the open. The only person who knew, or used to know, was Dalton.
My mouth fell open, and then I stammered, “H-how did you know?”
“Sweetie, I stayed here with you after you erased Joe’s memory. You were having nightmares and mumbling in your sleep.”
“All I know is Dalton absorbed some Key of Knowledge that he almost died to protect. Is the Key the source of all the weird flashes and names that keep popping in my head? I can understand Latin for God’s sake. Am I the Key now because I mind swept him?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Now it was my turn to cross my arms. “You don’t know about the Key?”
“It’s above my security clearance. I’m trying to find out more, but you can only be so stealthy in heaven.”
“Should you even be here with me now?”
“Pfft…they can’t watch me all the time. Angels are not all-knowing.”
“So, I’ve been told,” I grumbled.
“Have you figured out what any of the memories mean yet?”
“Nope. After some initial flashes of the name Thomas Wilson, and some cryptic Latin phrases, I haven’t had any more. Maybe it’s nothing.”
She frowned. “Or maybe you’re in denial. Running from your problems doesn’t help.”
“What are you, heaven’s version of Dr. Phil?”
Her eyes crinkled, and she laughed. It was surprisingly loud and sounded like a cross between a bark
and a cough. “You are a witty one. I bet that mouth gets you into trouble.”
“Sometimes.”
“Try to behave yourself. I’ll be back to see you when I can, dear.”
“Wait.” I hesitated and then plowed ahead, my heart tightening in my chest. “Is Dalton really doing okay?”
Her eyes softened. “Yes, he’s doing well. Thank you for saving him.”
She faded away before I could say, “You’re welcome.”
I sighed, and would have sunk into a full-fledged funk if my doorbell hadn’t chosen that exact moment to ring. I opened the door to find Jason.
After a second his eyes widened. “Wow, a blonde.”
I held up my hands. “No ditzy jokes or I’ll get Stanley.”
“Who’s Stanley?”
“My nine millimeter. Do you want some coffee?”
He laughed. “Nah, I’m good. You ready to go?”
“Yeah.” I took my coat out of the closet and my phone off the table. “But we have to stop downstairs and buy some pastries for Misha.”
“Trust me, I know. When he found out I live by the West Side Market, he was ecstatic.”
I snorted in commiseration.
“I have to bring him something every Monday morning, or he pouts for days afterward.”
“I feel your pain, man.”
After a quick detour for donuts, Jason and I made it to the office. Dolly greeted me, grinning from ear to ear.
“I knew you’d look great as a blonde!”
“I didn’t even know I could pull it off.”
“Well, someone needed to shove you down the right path.”
I bowed slightly to her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Jean Luc and Misha are waiting for you guys.”
We walked into the back office. Misha was working on his laptop, and he popped his head up like a puppy waiting for a bone, his eyes lighting when he saw the pastry box. “I’ve missed you, Kyle.”
I rolled my eyes. “You missed your pastry supplier.”
He laughed. “That too.”
I handed the box to Misha and plopped down into a chair. “Are we ready to discuss the plan?”
