by RJ Blain
Had I not been infected with lycanthropy from before birth, I would’ve been a human like any other. The mix of genetics didn’t instill any sort of morality on people in my shoes.
That was all part of being human.
No matter how many times I’d ask Ma, the answer had been the same. He let us make our own mistakes, which we’d pay for in the afterlife. I got the feeling He would rather enforce law and order on the universe so he wouldn’t have to deal with sorting souls, but He kept His word, and that meant humans retained the free will to screw up their lives.
I was a big fan of having the freedom to fuck up my life at my whim.
“You’re also a lot quieter on a flight than I anticipated. The baby in the front row is making more of a fuss than you are.”
I blinked, canting my head to listen. “There’s a baby in the front row?”
“Exactly. She cried a bit before you boarded. I think she thought we’d be late because someone couldn’t get to the gate in a timely fashion.”
It amused me Kenneth thought a baby had the ability to judge if a plane was delayed from taking off due to a slightly late passenger. I let him hold onto that belief.
“It’s Mom’s fault. She brought an incubus home and chained my steering wheel because she hates when I leave home. The only reason I escaped the house was because Ma picked a fight with Mom. I bet the incubus and Dad will end up having some beers and lamenting their lot in life. I’m seriously considering running for the border.”
“You still live with your parents?”
I scowled at the laughter in his voice. “You try being the daughter of a succubus, an angel, and a lycanthrope sometime. The last time I tried to move out, it was mass hysterics.”
The rent was a lot cheaper, too. Even with Dad gouging me on my share of the mortgage, I wouldn’t have been able to afford living in a nice neighborhood otherwise unless I joined his practice and put my expensive degree to good use.
Maintaining my license through mandatory pro bono hours and continued education courses kept him happy and kept his hopes up that I’d join the firm someday.
Until then, I pretended I wasn’t over-educated for an understudy dancer.
“I have a hard time believing your story. Why would there be mass hysterics?”
I held up a finger. “I dance for a living.”
Kenneth clamped his lips together in a valiant effort to keep from laughing. I’d seen my father do the exact same thing enough times to know he’d taken a long walk off a short pier directly into a sea of perversion. Men.
“Ballet, thank you.”
“Go on. Continue, please.” His voice wavered from his effort to contain his mirth.
I held up a second finger. “Mom worries, as she believes I’m helpless. She’s convinced every single predator on the planet will lock on and come after me the instant I leave the house.”
“This explains why she brought home an incubus and chained your steering wheel. However, most parents would consider an incubus to be a predator.”
“But the incubus would be an approved predator.”
“And your father?”
“He’s a lycanthrope. What do you think?”
“A battle to near-death to determine if the man after his daughter meets his approval,” Kenneth replied, and his laughter finally slipped out. “I’m really curious now. How did mass hysteria take hold on your triad of parents?”
“Ma crashed a plane trying to retrieve me because Mom cried and Dad paced holes in the floor. We had to implement a ban on any of my parents teleporting into vehicles, especially moving ones, to retrieve me. This rule is only waived if I’m at actual risk of death and not just trying to escape the insanity that is my life.”
Kenneth’s expression turned neutral. “Your Ma crashed a plane. You’re seriously telling me an angel managed to crash a plane?”
“I got billed for the entire replacement cost of the plane. It was awful. Ma paid for it, and I, to this day, do not know where she got the money. I’m not entirely convinced she didn’t rob a bank. No one would ever suspect an angel of robbing a bank.” I shrugged. “I’ve been informed I shouldn’t take up bank robbery as a career.”
“Considering how poorly your foray into illegal substances went, I second that advice. You’d be a terrible bank robber.”
Any other day, Kenneth would’ve annoyed me, but I recognized the truth when it smacked me in the face. “Yeah. Mom’s teaching method was very effective. Jail is not for me.”
“You’d be surprised how many people habitually get arrested to serve jail time.”
“Free meals, free board, and good health care?”
“Bingo. It became a serious enough problem where the government required an overhaul of the prison system to stop inmates from draining the system trying to get out of the daily responsibilities of life. That’s why community service is heavily on the rise and long-term prison time is reserved for severe crimes; if an angel verifies the motive was to stay in prison, those individuals are moved to a housing unit and forced to work full-time community service in exchange for a stipend and medical services.”
I reminded myself that law-enforcement types lived and breathed everything to do with the judiciary system. I could handle listening to Kenneth chat my ear off for a few hours. It wouldn’t kill me to pretend I was learning something new.
Probably.
“And had I been actually guilty of willfully snorting up high-grade pixie dust?”
“Rehab, some community service, and a light slap on the wrist to go with your overnight detention. You’d probably be assigned someone in law enforcement to keep an eye on your activities to see if the rehab worked.”
“That seems like an expensive way to deal with someone who just wants to be happy.”
“That grade of dust circumvents your free will, jail bird. You could’ve become someone’s slave. There’s a reason you were put in solitary until the neutralizer worked.”
“All three doses of it,” I grumbled.
“That was unusual. But, most people don’t snort the dust. It was an educational evening for me, a very amusing, educational evening.”
How delightful. I amused the man who’d busted me. “I learned my lesson.”
“Which one? There’s so many you might’ve learned from this incident. I lost count.”
“You’re a sadistic bastard.”
He laughed. “It’s one of my charms. Sorry. It’s been a long week at work, and I’m looking forward to a chance to unwind for the weekend.”
“Are you catching a connecting flight out of Colorado, then?”
“No, I’m going to Colorado.”
“To unwind for the weekend?”
“That’s the idea. It’s a nice, quiet place. I’m going to a resort outside of Boulder.”
Alarm bells blared through my head. While Boulder did have resorts, I hadn’t really thought of the place as a mecca of resorts, which put me at high risk of being at the same resort as Kenneth. “You’re going to a resort in Boulder for the weekend?”
“Well, it’s more like a week. I was told I needed to take time off, and if I didn’t, I’d be put on mandatory leave. My boss gave me a list of acceptable activities, as he thought I’d need help picking something appropriate.”
“Your boss sent you to Boulder for a week-long stay at a resort?”
“And he’s making me pay for it, too, the jackass.”
I had so many questions and hardly knew where to begin unraveling the mystery seated beside me. “Did you do something to piss him off?”
“I think so. What, I’m not sure. My work performance has been really good. He gave me a week’s notice to wrap up my current work, told me I was going out of town for the week, and that he wasn’t accepting no for an answer.”
“Is that even legal?”
Kenneth shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
“At least he let you pick from a list of options, I guess. Did he plan your entire vacation?”
“I’m pretty sure he did. He told me if I left without an itinerary, I’d get bored and wander home, then I’d end up going back to work because I have no life.”
“That explains why you were at a quiet bar on a Tuesday night.” I wrinkled my nose. “I have the worst luck.”
“You have fantastic luck. You were arrested by me, and there’s something to be said for being arrested by the best.”
Between Ma, Mom, and Dad, I got my daily fill of egos. As killing Kenneth and tossing him out of the plane would land me in prison and make me miss my retreat, I did my best to pretend he wasn’t a pretty annoyance. “Did you hit your head this morning getting out of bed?”
“Not nice,” he complained.
“Well, there are treatments for concussions and delusions. It’s important to find out what sort of medication you need. Is your boss aware of this? You should probably tell him. Then he would’ve had you spending your money on treatments rather than taking a flight to Colorado to stay at a resort.”
“Do you have a master’s degree in sarcasm? Obviously, I need to be taking lessons from you.”
“As murder is on the list of things I’m not allowed to do unless I’m about to be murdered, I have to hope my sarcastic wit kills you. Unfortunately, I’m concerned you’ll just like it.”
He laughed, proving me right. “Why are you flying to Colorado?”
“Work.” Technically, it was as much play as it was work, but he didn’t need to know that.
“You have a performance?”
“Not quite. I don’t perform again for another two weeks; I was overdue for some time off, too.” I shifted in my seat to try to stretch my cramping calves. “Keeping in shape and honing my skills is an important part of work. Staying fit for performances doesn’t just magically happen.”
Kenneth’s grin worried me, and he pulled out a folded piece of paper out of his wallet. “I just love being the bearer of good news.”
Crap. I eyed the paper warily. “How is a piece of paper from a copper good news?”
“Please, jail bird. I’m not just some copper. I’m an FBI agent. I’m a high-class law enforcement officer.”
I glared at him. “What’s that paper?”
“It’s my itinerary, prepared by my boss to get me out of his hair for a while.”
I rolled my eyes but took the sheet out of his hand, unfolded it, and looked over it. Official FBI letterhead supported his claim he’d been subjected to a mandatory vacation at his boss’s insistence, as did the terse opening lines informing Kenneth he’d stick to his itinerary or he’d be subjected to hell shifts for the next year. “Your boss is an ass.”
“He means well, and he gets tired of trying to explain to his boss why I don’t take time off.”
I snorted and resumed reading the list of activities, which included the flight, landing in Colorado, and the confirmation of my fears; Kenneth and I would be at the same resort for the entire time.
* * *
Had I been wise, I would’ve invited the incubus to be my dance partner. At least that way, I knew exactly what to expect from the living, breathing sex machine on a mission to get laid.
Kenneth, as always, remained a mystery, and I had no idea what being stuck with him for a week would do for my peace of mind.
If he looked as good shirtless as he did in a shirt, I’d be in real trouble, and the men in the dance field often wore form-fitting outfits, which showed off their assets.
Was I supposed to pray for help, offer my thanks, or run away? I’d find out soon enough.
Kenneth took advantage of our shared destination to coerce me into taking a cab with him to the resort. I hated money. Money made me do stupid things. Had money not been an issue, I would’ve rejected his offer to split the bill.
At least he hadn’t offered to pay the whole thing. I would’ve protested on principle. Of all the traits I’d inherited from Ma, my inability to let go of keeping things as fair as possible annoyed the hell out of me some days.
Mom thought it was funny and sometimes questioned if I was actually her child, and she did it because she knew it annoyed Ma.
“See? This trip is already looking up. We both saved money on the cab. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Why couldn’t my father have been a wolf rather than the world’s first swan? Growling intimidated people.
Honking?
Honking induced fits of laughter.
Unfortunately, swans were assholes, had an aggression streak a mile wide, and when shifted, my father weighed in at almost seventy pounds, which was a lot of swan. Only an idiot screwed around with a mundane swan. Dad could break bones without thinking about it, and his beak could cut through skin with ease. If he wanted, he could gouge a hole in someone’s throat with a single strike. Pretty and feathered didn’t mean helpless. Once I shifted, assuming it ever happened, I’d be able to fly without the help of an airplane.
Dad thought once I settled down and found a man for myself, my virus would replicate so I could get on with providing him grandchicks to spoil. I found it funny he advised me against claiming an angel and an incubus for myself, as it would limit his ability to spoil high numbers of grandchicks.
“Jail bird?”
“I’m trying to figure out how this happened,” I muttered, slumping in my seat. “I must be cursed.”
“Saving money on cab fare is never a bad thing. Come on. You have to admit it could be a lot worse. Despite appearances, I do know how to dance.”
Kenneth could dance? I narrowed my eyes. “What style?”
“I started with swing dancing, but I like variety. That’s why my boss had this place on the list. I fill in sometimes in dance classes for people without a partner, and he’s had to call me out of class a few times to deal with cases.”
Trouble had a name: Kenneth. If I could forget about the whole being arrested thing, he counted as the rare unicorn ripe for the picking. He kept in shape, he had a nice face, he could string multiple words together resulting in a coherent sentence, and he could dance.
If Mom found out, mass hysteria would begin again, and she’d be gunning for me to stake some claims on him, Ma would be determined to marry me off, and Dad would beat Kenneth within an inch of his life. While I had certain issues involving being arrested and assigned a sadly accurate nickname, Kenneth didn’t deserve exposure to my family.
“Never, ever tell my mother you can dance. Either one of them.”
“Why not?” Kenneth’s eyes widened. “Do they dislike dancers?”
“The exact opposite. Don’t ask what Mom would do, Ma would be planning a wedding, and Dad would find some way to murder you without earning Ma’s ire.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“Only if they find out you can dance. For a lycanthrope, Dad’s not too bad. Usually. Unless anyone looks at either of my mothers or me. After that, all bets are off. Consider yourself fortunate Dad isn’t part of a pack.”
“That depends. Who would the pack be helping, assuming he was part of a pack?”
“Probably my mothers. It’d be a disaster.”
Either foolishly brave or he simply didn’t care, Kenneth laughed. “I’ll take my chances. How bad could it be? One of your mothers is an angel.”
The poor, deluded fool. “Just don’t come crying to me later.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter Three
After dealing with my parents and a flight with Kenneth, I wanted nothing more than to stagger to my room and collapse on to the bed,but fate, the devil, and maybe even the heavens conspired against me.
Somehow, my room had been double booked, and the asshole who’d booked in after me had gotten to it first, leaving me up shit creek without a paddle, boat, or option of a new room, as the resort had nothing available.
I’d have to book something in Boulder twenty minutes away if I wanted to attend the retreat. Getting a rental hadn’t been in my budget, and neither had payin
g for a cab for so many trips, either. When the going got tough, the tough kicked ass, but I wanted to crawl to a corner and cry. If I had to call home to bum money from Ma, I’d never hear the end of it.
“What’s wrong?” Kenneth asked, propping his elbows on the desk beside me. “You look like you’re about to give up. The last time I saw that expression on your face, I was helping you into the cab.”
“They double booked my room, and they don’t have anything else available,” I confessed. Lying wouldn’t do any good; he’d figure it out right away or decide to do some investigating to discover the truth.
“Seriously?”
“A computer glitch, or so it seems. My reservation looks correct, she even says it does, but someone else is in the room. I’d even booked first. This is a disaster. I’ll have to get a room in fucking Boulder.”
“My room has two beds. Staying in Boulder is ridiculous. I don’t mind if you share with me.”
Hell was sharing a room with Kenneth Bernard. It was heaven, too, a heaven I’d indulge in once he went to sleep. I could watch him without any guilt. Good looks, bad luck, and an idiotic determination to stay at the retreat left me with one choice: I’d share a room with my new best friend for life, and I’d choke showing him the proper gratitude for saving my ass. “I can pay for half the room,” I mumbled.
“We’ll worry about it after we get home.”
I bowed my head, sighed, and regretted the day I thought I’d like going to Colorado for a dance retreat. “Thanks.”
“Please add her to my room,” Kenneth demanded. He pulled his reservation out of his pocket and handed it over. “I trust this won’t be a problem?”
“Of course not, Mr. Bernard. That’s very generous of you.”
“She’s a friend.”
Any other day, I would’ve considered his claim a stretch. He’d be my best friend for my bailing my ass out, at least until after the retreat ended. Staying with him beat calling Ma and begging for help because of a double booking. If I had to call Ma, I worried all three of my parents would show up.
