How Nina Got Her Fang Back: Accidental Quickie (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 13)

by Dakota Cassidy

  Or he’d die trying.

  Chapter 5

  “You want?” Nina asked January, holding up half of her ham and Swiss on rye as they sat in her office, preparing to begin their next session.

  Nina didn’t appear at all affected by the idea that she knew they were being recorded. In fact, she’d strolled into January’s office cool as a cucumber, sandwich bag in hand, plopped down in the same seat she’d sat in yesterday and began to eat her lunch.

  If anyone was going to blow this sky-high, it would be January and her stupid nerves. Now that she knew Nina was aware of the recording, and she knew she had to keep her on course, she was far more worried about discovery than she had been when she’d feared Nina would find out on her own that she was being recorded.

  “Doc?” Nina inquired again, waving the sandwich in front of her face. “Yum-yum. Cheesy goodness on rye,” she tempted with a comical grin. “Wouldn’t hurt you to put some meat on those scrawny legs of yours.”

  January squared her shoulders and shook her head with a smile. “No, thank you. I had lunch.”

  Nina shrugged. “Your loss.”

  Clearing her throat, she licked her dry lips as Nina happily chewed. How was she ever going to get through this?

  But then Nina looked up at her, her black eyes compelling January to look back—willing her to participate and help maintain their ruse. And when she complied, Nina didn’t bat an eye, but said, “So what’s on the fucking agenda today, Doc? You wanna probe me like an alien? Check my cholesterol? Maybe have me pee in a cup?”

  That instantly broke the tension for January, making her laugh as her body began to relax into her chair. “I’m not that kind of doctor, Nina. No urine samples required.”

  She took a huge bite of her sandwich and chewed, glaring at January. “So? Then what’s next? I don’t get what you want from me. I told you everything yesterday. I’m here because my nitwit friends say I need to be here. Do what you gotta do and get ’er done.”

  “What’s next is you tell me what your state of mind’s been like since you were returned to your former humanity. How are you feeling since you became a human?”

  “Hungry.”

  “Are you really eating because you’re hungry or is it because of something else?”

  “Like?”

  “Like it’s a way to remind yourself you’re human. Are you using it as a form of punishment—a constant reminder of your new lot in life?”

  “Because Ring-Dings and a fucking steak the size of my face are forms of punishment? Punish the shit out of me, is what I say.”

  January watched several different emotions play over Nina’s face before she shrugged. “Maybe. You tell me.”

  Sighing, the ex-vampire dropped the crust of her sandwich into the grease-stained bag and made a sucking noise. “Listen, I’ll admit the ability to snarf down whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want, is GD sweet after eight years of nothing but synthetic blood. So yeah, I’m making up for lost time, and I’ve got the trail of Cracker Jack crumbs in aisle seven at the supermarket to prove it. But it isn’t because I need to remind myself I’m a fucking human. I have the Ass-Sniffer and Mother Theresa for that.”

  “And that bothers you? Do you think they do it to make a point or they do it to be helpful?”

  She gave January a blank stare. “Do you?”

  “Don’t avoid and deflect.”

  Nina made a face. “Right, the dreaded D word.”

  January gave her a thumbs-up. “You did read the packet. Kudos! Now, answer the question. Why do you think your friends remind you of your new station in life?”

  “I’m sure they’re just looking out for me, but if I needed looking out for, I’d tell ’em.”

  “So you trust they’re doing this because it’s in your best interest?”

  “Didn’t I just say that? Listen, they don’t do it to shove the fact that they’re stronger than I am now in my face. I trust them. I don’t like that I trust a chick who wears more makeup than a clown and always takes two hours to get ready when we’re just going to the frickin’ Dollar Store. Marty’s nothing like me, and if she’s nothing like me, then Wanda’s a million times unlike me. She’s reserved, all about good manners and being a fucking lady. But trust them? Fuck yeah. It’s been ride or die since day one, and it always will be. End of. Move along to the next subject, little doggie.”

  January believed Nina did trust her friends. She didn’t flinch when asked. Not an iota. “Okay, let’s look at your marriage then. How does your husband Greg feel about your humanity?”

  Rolling her head from side to side, she cracked the muscles in her neck. “You wanna call him up and ask him?”

  “No. I want you to give me your impression of his feelings. How do they come across to you? How do they make you feel? What do you hear when he shares them?”

  Nina shrugged, and this time, she didn’t look January in the eye when she answered. “He was pissed that I risked my life for Marty, if that’s what you’re getting at. Not because it was Marty, mind you, but that I took a chance like I did, knowing I was human. Because of Charlie…”

  January cupped her chin in her hand and assessed the gorgeous brunette. Nina’s husband played an integral role in how she felt about her returned humanity. It had to be hard for him to adjust, too. “So he was angry then?”

  “Yeah. He was pretty pissed.”

  “Did you argue about it?”

  “We didn’t really knock-down-drag-out because we don’t ever do that. We get heated, but we don’t sling fucking mud. I know you prolly think coming from me, that’s bullshit, but my marriage is solid and keeping it that way means I have to use my words. But he was upset enough that he asked me to reconsider my role at OOPS.”

  “And that made you…?”

  “Tweaked at first, because I’m all kinds of mouth and posturing when it comes to somebody telling me what I can and can’t do—even my own husband. But I get it, and if I didn’t get it, Marty and Wanda are there to remind me I’m in a fucking partnership and something about consideration for my other half, blah, blah, blah. But it’s not like I don’t get that I have a finite amount of time here on earth. I know I’m a lot easier to kill now.”

  “Do you still feel as much Greg’s equal as you did when you were a vampire?”

  Nina said nothing. Instead, she rustled around in her bag of chips.

  “Nina?” January prodded with a gentle tone.

  She squirmed for a moment, as though she were deciding whether she should divulge one of her deeper fears—not to mention divulge it to their hidden audience.

  Finally, she took a napkin from her bag and wiped her mouth before saying, “No, okay? No, I don’t feel like an equal anymore. I feel like I’ve been spending a lot of time showing Greg all the things I do day to day for Charlie and Carl so—” Her voice cracked a little then, but she rallied quickly. “So that if something happens to me, he’ll know what they like for dinner, or how Carl likes his broccoli cooked a specific way so it’s not too mushy, or the days of the week I take them to the library for story time… I guess I didn’t realize I was telling him all these things because I know one day I…I…”

  “Won’t be here?”

  Now Nina gulped, the slender column of her throat working. “Yeah. It’s like I’m preparing to die, and I’m not even dying, and…”

  “And that sucks.”

  “Fuck yeah, it sucks. But I’d do it again. So if you’re going to go back to how I should regret saving someone’s life, fuck off.”

  January noted that was for the benefit of the hidden camera. “It can’t be taken back anyway. All we can do is move forward from this point on.”

  Nina yawned and stretched. “Right. One foot in front of the other, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

  “How do you plan to do that? Put one foot in front of the other?”

  Nina made a face. “You want a demonstration? Fucking pictures?”

  “No. I want to know if you
have an active plan in place. How you’ll tell Charlie someday that you’re different than her. Carl, too. I want to know how you’ll mentally prepare for an ending you haven’t had to prepare for in several years.”

  “Like a will?”

  January shook her finger at Nina. She was toying with her. Playing dumb because she didn’t want to acknowledge anything beyond the next grilled cheese sandwich she ate. It was all part and parcel of coming to terms with this new journey she was on, and Nina was ignoring it, shoving it away, stalling.

  And January knew she had to get to the heart of the matter before time ran out. If nothing came of this, if she ended up blowing this whole thing with Galen and Artem, she wasn’t going to do that before she helped Nina. She absolutely had to properly grieve the loss of her vampirism in order to accept and come to complete terms with her humanity.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Nina. I asked a question. Do you have a plan in place for the time when your life will cease, but everyone around you will carry on?”

  Nina narrowed her eyes at January, straightening the ties on her hoodie, the knuckles of her fingers white, but still she didn’t bite. “I got plans for dinner. That’s about as much fucking planning as I’ve done today.”

  “Then here’s what I want you to do before our next appointment tomorrow. Think of one, Nina. Think of a plan. Tell me how you’ll talk to Charlie and Carl and explain that you’re different. What you hope to do with your time when your friends are still youthful and fit and you’re part of a knitting club at a retirement home.”

  Nina’s eyebrow rose, but then she eyeballed January and grinned—wide. “Fuck knitting. It’s Ping-Pong or bust.”

  But January chose to ignore Nina’s blatant refusal to acknowledge her words. “Just a loose outline will do for now, but give it some thought tonight and I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.”

  “We done here? Am I excused, Dr. Malone?”

  January didn’t miss the sarcasm in Nina’s tone, but she gave her a sunny smile and pushed away from her desk. “Free bird, baby.”

  There was a sudden commotion, making both Nina and January look up and toward her office door. Voices were raised, heated and animated.

  Nina was the first to rise from her chair. She pushed off, using her hands on the arms as leverage and strode toward the door. “Fuck all. If Marty’s out there grousing about validating her parking, I’ll fix her ass. Don’t you worry, Doc. I won’t let her screw with you. We’re fucking rich, for Christ’s sake. I don’t know why she has to make such a big stinkin’ deal about shit.”

  But as she threw the door open, it wasn’t Marty making a scene at all.

  No, in fact, it was Galen, just outside the thin glass that separated her reception area from the hallway and elevators.

  Marty and Wanda both looked to January, their eyes rimmed with concern, their bodies frozen to the spot.

  January cocked them a glance in question as she watched Galen’s strong hands fly about in the air, clearly agitated. “What’s going on?”

  Elsa, her receptionist, short and elderly and also a fellow witch, smoothed the ruffles on the front of her polka-dot blouse. “That hunky doctor next door is arguing with someone.” She shivered, her round cheeks vibrating. “He’s so manly when he’s all worked up, eh, ladies?”

  Nina—being Nina—strode to the door and flung it open, pushing her way out and cornering Galen and the other man. A man January couldn’t quite see over Nina’s tall frame.

  “Hey! What the fuck is wrong with you two? There are goddamn people in here with mental-health related issues. Like me. And I’m telling you, I’m fragile, bitches. Fragile with a capital edgy. You do not—I repeat—do not want to set me off. I’m like a GD volcano just waitin’ to blow. So shut the fuck up and take it the hell outside!”

  Galen was the first to respond, his handsome, pale face and strong body tight with tension. “My apologies, Dr. Malone. We didn’t mean to disturb you with your patient,” he offered in a curt tone before his beautiful eyes the color of green marbles moved from January’s face and focused on the far wall to avoid even merely glimpsing at her.

  “Indeed. Our apologies, Doctor,” the man Nina blocked from view reiterated.

  “Who the fuck are you, in here harassing doctors? Jesus, can’t anyone get some friggin’ respect these days? Bet you eat corn chips in the library, too. What’s wrong with you?” Nina demanded of the man, leaning down to peer into his face.

  But January grabbed her arm from behind, fighting a cringe. She knew that voice. She knew it well. “It’s okay, Nina. Come on, let’s go make an appointment with Elsa for tomorrow and let these two hash out whatever the problem is on their own.”

  But the man raised his slender hand, reaching up to plant it on Galen’s shoulder, giving him a hard pat. Then he smiled, working hard to ooze charm from every slimy pore on his scrawny body. “It’s fine, Dr. Malone. We were just grousing about baseball, if you can believe it, weren’t we, Galen? We got a little heated, as men are wont to do when they challenge one another in the sports arena. Nothing to worry about. Right, Galen?”

  “Right,” Galen responded, the tic in his jaw pulsing like mad—meaning everything was not all right.

  Stepping between the women, he glanced up at Nina and smiled pleasantly, his long, thin face pale, as opposed to his lips, which were a deep ruby red. “Again, so sorry, Miss…?” He looked up at her hopefully, his deep-set dark eyes searching hers while knowing full well who she was.

  “Nina Blackman-Statleon. Besides loud and rude as fuck, who are you?”

  January gulped and inhaled with as little sound as possible.

  He beamed at Nina, slicking back his glossy, raven-colored hair before he extended his hand to her. “I’m Artem Casteel. Undoubtedly, the pleasure is all mine. All mine.”

  Chapter 6

  “I should have ripped his throat out then and there. You know what it was like to stand there and look that motherfucker in the face, knowing the whole time he wants my ass in a wooden sardine can? Why the fuck did you let me walk into that shit blind, Doc?” Nina crabbed at January as they all sat around a table in the basement office of OOPS.

  There was an enormous poster of Mulder and Scully on the wall with the words “I Believe” scrawled across it, hanging just above Nina’s head. The phones they had set up on each of their desks to take calls sat in silence, much as they all had since they’d arranged to meet on this balmy July night.

  “It’s not like you gave her a chance, Nina,” Marty pointed out, reapplying her pink lip gloss for the third time since they’d arrived. “This is exactly why we ask you to slow down. It isn’t because we like being nags, Acts-Like-Thug. It’s because sometimes you open that big gaping hole on your face and cause more trouble than we need before you even know what the heck is going on.”

  “It’s okay, Marty. She was just doing what she does best. Protecting everyone,” January defended, oddly warmed by Nina taking Galen under her wing—even if her wing was very mortal and easily clipped. “Yes, she was brash and loud, but Artem has no idea she even knows what’s going on or who he is. So it all worked out.”

  Nina sighed, reaching into her hoodie for a Twizzlers with an expression that said, see? “What the shrink said. I saw Galen and he looked pretty wanked, so I went out swinging. I was just looking out for him. Because like the Doc said, it’s what I do. She gets it, why the hell don’t you two?”

  Wanda shifted in her office chair, crossing and re-crossing her legs. She let her mint-colored wedge sandal dangle from her toes. “So that was the big bad Artem, huh?”

  “That was him,” January replied dismally. She knew damn well they hadn’t been arguing about sports. What worried her was what they’d been arguing about.

  Had Artem caught them? Had that snake Rowdy figured out who she was and given them up? Damn. And where was Galen, anyway?

  Nina nodded. “I could prolly take him even as a human. He’s a weaselly lookin’ shit. You sh
oulda just let me kick his ass right then and there. Problem solved.”

  January patted Nina’s hand and shook her head in admonishment. “No, Nina. You cannot take him. He’s a vampire. Need I remind you once more, you are a human with human strength and capabilities?”

  “You sure harp on that shit a lot, Doc. Sing a diff tune, huh?” she said on a wink, stretching the strawberry-flavored licorice between her teeth until it broke.

  But January gave her a stern look and tapped the table with a finger. “I’ll sing the same tune like a broken record until you acknowledge and take your humanity seriously. Artem is a vicious killer. He’s killed before in accordance with his clan laws. He justifies plenty with his iron fist. So again I say, no tangling with vampires because you, quite plainly, aren’t strong enough.”

  “Doc’s right, Nina,” the man introduced to her as Darnell said.

  From the moment his burly hand had swallowed hers and he’d grinned down at her, all white teeth, gold chains, high-tops and warm vibes, January felt safe.

  Whatever his story was, however he’d become a demon, he was good to the soul. She didn’t need a degree in psychology to tell her that. His aura was crystal clear.

  Darnell scrubbed a hand over his shortly cropped hair, his eyes a mixture of sorrow and worry. “Y’all gotta be careful now that we talkin’ the paranormal council. That ain’t no joke. Word gets back you bein’ violent, and it’s gon’ get real, Boss. I won’t be able to take it if they shun you. Believe that.”

  “How the fuck is it everyone knew about this damn council and I’ve never heard about it?” Nina asked. “It’s like I suddenly just got the invitation to the party. I had no flippin’ clue there was a bunch of ratchety-ass elders from each species who could pass judgment and it was the law. I thought each clan or pack or gaggle of sirens or whatever had their own branches and that was that. No one’s ever interfered with Greg before.”

  “Because you damn well don’t listen, Nina!” Wanda yelped, slamming her hand down on the surface of the table they all sat around, making everyone jump, including Nina.