Only Lycans Need Apply

by Michele Bardsley

  “Unless they escape,” he said. “Unfortunately, Karn excels at saving his own hide.”

  “Awesome,” I said. “Let’s go back to the part where you said we would be in your care. What does that mean, exactly?”

  “We will take you to a safe location and protect you from Karn.” He offered a killer smile. “I represent the Consortium. It’s an organization that protects certain types of artifacts and information.”

  “Gawd. Why do I feel like we’re stuck in a Men in Black movie?” asked Dove. She sighed dramatically. “Do you plan to leave us gift-wrapped so you can transport us to your serial killer van?”

  Drake blinked. “Of course I will release you from your bonds. So long as you understand that coming with us is non-negotiable. We must insist on offering our protection.”

  “What kind of artifacts?” I asked because I couldn’t help myself.

  “Really, Moira? Really? That’s the important issue here?” Dove’s voice cut through my curiosity and reminded me that maybe that whole artifact question could wait.

  Drake offered a grin, and I nearly melted right out of my bonds. Cute or not, it had been a helluva night, and I wasn’t riding off into the dark with this guy because he was mind-numbingly handsome. Or because he supposedly had access to artifacts. I mean, what we were talking about here? “Where are the artifacts from? How old are they? Do you have items from Egypt?”

  “Moira!”

  I flinched at Dove’s outraged tone.

  “You’ll forgive us for being cynical, given that we were just kidnapped, punched, and terrorized,” she said. “But we need credentials. References.”

  “Yeah,” I said. My jaw throbbed. “And maybe an ice pack.”

  “I have something better,” he offered.

  “No,” said Dove. “We’re not in Men in Black. We’re in Terminator.”

  “What’s taking so long?” A beautiful blonde dressed in a blue frock that highlighted her pregnant belly marched into our circle. She eyed us. “Why are they still tied up?”

  “I was hoping to gain their cooperation before releasing their bonds.”

  “Oh, for shit’s sake! My name is Patsy. I’m . . . uh . . . well, screw it. I’m the vampire queen. I’m seven months pregnant, in a really bad mood, and mad as hell that Karn got away again. I want some ice cream, to put my feet up, and to watch Desperate Housewives. I will glamour you if I have to. I don’t want to, though, because it makes me dizzy.” She put her hands on her very round belly. “Everything makes me fucking dizzy.”

  Not even Dove had a response for the woman. She just stared at the blonde openmouthed with something like respect gleaming in her brown eyes. It took a lot to impress Dove, and a whole lot more to earn even a smidgen of her respect.

  “Aren’t vampires dead?” I asked. Obviously, that was the most important question. It was nice to know I knew how to order conversational priorities. Usually I was more organized.

  “True,” said Dove. “That should nullify the ability to breed, right?” She huffed out a breath. “Now you’ve got me doing it, too.”

  “I’m a different sort of vampire,” the blonde said. “Also, I’m Preg. Nant. You might want to keep that in mind.”

  “You really do,” said Drake. He shuddered, and then winked.

  Something poked at my memories. Something . . . well, I didn’t know. It was similar to the feeling of going to the grocery store without a list and trying to remember what I was supposed to buy. Was it strange that Drake’s wink was somehow familiar?

  Patsy punched him in the arm. “Shut up.” She looked at me. “Karn wants you for the same reason that we do.”

  “Which is what?” I asked.

  “I’m losing circulation in my arms,” interjected Dove. “In case anyone cares.”

  Actually, I was getting the tingles in my arms, too. I bet I looked like a hit-and-run victim. Dove didn’t look any better, either.

  Patsy waddled toward Dove. Drake leaned over my chair to untie the ropes around my wrists, which he did by breaking them with his bare hands. Wow. Also, he smelled really, really good.

  And his hair was damp, as though he’d just taken a shower.

  “You are a what, aren’t you?” I asked when he straightened.

  “I’m a werewolf,” he said. He crouched next to me, took my arms and rubbed gently, probably trying to get the circulation going again while offering comfort. But his touch was far from comforting . . . it was electrifying.

  “You are a remarkable woman, Dr. Jameson.” His thumbs brushed the crooks of my arms, and I huffed out a little breath of shock. Who knew the bends of my arms were such sensitive spots? He offered me a smoky smile, one that sent my stomach into a mambo dance. “I look forward to knowing you better.”

  “I haven’t agreed to accept your protection,” I said, even though they’d made it clear that Dove and I didn’t have a choice. But I could bluster if I wanted to, damn it.

  Drake’s grin only widened. He rose and offered his hand. I took it and managed to get to my feet without tipping over. He held my hand until I felt steady enough—and then he held it a moment longer, his fingers squeezing mine right before he let go.

  “Well, you might agree to that, and more, when you hear this,” said Patsy. She paused as Dove tiptoed up next to her. We all looked at her red calf-length lace-up ballet boots. In order to wear them, you had to walk on your toes.

  “Those are some fucked-up shoes,” said Patsy. “Are you trying to cripple yourself?”

  “Yes,” said Dove deadpan. “That’s my plan exactly.”

  Patsy snorted. Then she turned toward me again. “You found a crypt in the desert recently. Empty, but maybe some strange stuff on the walls?”

  “And we found vampire ushabtis,” said Dove.

  Patsy stared at her blankly.

  “Little bitty statues,” said Dove.

  “Oh.”

  “So?” Hey, why not cooperate? I was crazy, dreaming, or had fallen down a rabbit hole. Vampires. Werewolves. Mermaids. Ghosts. I was trapped in a world that shouldn’t exist.

  “It’s not exactly what happened, but we have to wait for Eva to undo her work. Only the vampire who glamoured you can . . . er, un-glamour you.

  “You glamoured us?” accused Dove. “When?”

  “Last week,” said Patsy distractedly. “Drake said you stuck your hand in some kind of lock in the door?”

  “I did what?” I asked.

  “Oh, right. The glamour thing. Shit.” She tapped her lip, pondering me. “Your blood opened it. And we’ve been in touch with various sources, including the Vedere psychics. They do not know how to give a straight answer. Anyway, we think you’re the chosen. And you’ll open the pyramid when it reappears tomorrow.”

  “What?” I asked blankly.

  Patsy shared a look with Drake, then turned her gaze to me. “You’re the key to opening a magical pyramid,” she said. “And saving the vampire race.”

  Chapter 12

  “Are you high?” asked Dove suspiciously. She squinted at Patsy. “Because that’s cray-cray.”

  “What the fuck is cray-cray?” asked Patsy. She returned Dove’s narrow-eyed look. “Are you high?”

  “Patsy.”

  The tone indicated exasperation of a spousal nature. A man as tall and broad and gorgeous as Drake entered our conversational circle. He was the opposite of Drake in coloring, though, his hair just as long, but moon white and worn loose.

  “If you give me the wait-where-it’s-safe speech, I will hurt you,” she said.

  “Why would I do that?” He leaned down and kissed her head, then drew her into his embrace. “No sign of Karn. However, his friends did not survive our light bomb.”

  “Those two assholes are dust?” asked Dove.

  The man’s golden gaze dropped down to Dove, and he studied her shoes for a moment before looking at her. “Yes.”

  “Good. They were jerks.”

  “Unfortunately, they are two of many jer
ks that Karn has enlisted to his cause,” said the man. “You are Dove. And you”—he turned to me—“are Dr. Moira Jameson.”

  “Believe it or not, I know who I am,” I said. “It’s the only thing I do know right now.”

  “Being introduced to parakind can be disconcerting,” he offered. “I am Patsy’s husband, Gabriel.”

  “Is it a rule that all of you must be beautiful?” asked Dove. “I mean, if someone fat and ugly and old wanted to get into the paranormal club, are they even considered for membership?”

  Patsy laughed. “Oh, hell. She’s a hoot.” She smiled at Dove. “Wait’ll you see the vampire nudist colony, honey. You have to die at the age of fifty or older to even get in.” She looked at me. “It’s just another perk of visiting our little haven in Oklahoma. It’s getting close to dawn, and we need to rest during the day before traipsing to the desert. Ugh.”

  Dove turned to me, her expression serious. “I cannot live another day without seeing naked vampire senior citizens.”

  “You are so easy.” I crossed my arms and eyed the non-humans. “I’m going to be a harder sell.”

  “Didn’t we mention the booby-trapped pyramid that will magically appear tomorrow night?” asked Patsy.

  “You forgot the booby-trapped part,” I said, which honestly made traversing the pyramid an even greater incentive. “How are we going to get to Egypt? I guess I could get the private plane ready, but that takes a little bit of planning, and I don’t know if my pilot—”

  “We have transportation handled,” said Patsy. “But it’s safer if you hole up in Broken Heart until we know the pyramid will show up again. Our town is invisible to the outside world and probably the most protected spot on earth right now. We’re of a mind to protect parakind. Karn wants to introduce us all to the world, and then take it over from the humans. We think that’s a dumb-ass move.”

  “Karn didn’t strike me as a dumb-ass,” I said.

  “He’s not, and that’s why he’s even more dangerous.” This statement came from Drake. “We need your help, Dr. Jameson. Please . . . come with us.”

  Oh, man. That German accent, and those gorgeous gem eyes . . . I wanted to say yes just so I could stay in proximity to that man. Er. Werewolf. Okay. I had to be a little flattered that big, bad supernatural creatures needed my little ol’ human help. Except maybe, just maybe, they considered me expendable. If I got hurt or dead . . . what was it to them?

  “I can’t disappear from the college,” I said, knowing full well I could, and it was almost expected (and, might I mention, welcomed) by most of the staff and all of the administration.

  Drake lifted his brows, and Patsy rolled her eyes. “You think we don’t know about you, Dr. Jameson?” she asked. “We know all about you. You’re eccentric, tough, honest, and persistent as hell. You as much as own this college and can take off whenever you like. If you were to tell people you’re going away on another dig, no one would think twice about it.”

  “You’ll make us go whether we want to or not,” I accused.

  “To protect you,” said Drake. “Karn obviously wants you to get him into the pyramid.”

  “I’m not the only archaeologist in the world.”

  “You are the one who opened it. And you are the only granddaughter of Ezra Jameson,” said Drake. “He was a friend to parakind.”

  I stared at him as I processed his words. “My grandfather knew about supernatural creatures?”

  Not everyone can receive your gifts.

  On that night so long ago, had my grandfather been talking to a vampire or a werewolf? And had he known that we employed a mermaid as a teacher? Who else on staff wasn’t human? I really needed to rethink our vetting process.

  “Yes,” said Drake. “You’ve been under the watchful eyes of some parakind already . . . You just haven’t known it. Just like you haven’t realized that you’ve been carrying on your grandfather’s work for the Consortium.”

  My mind raced. “Wait. That’s why he digging around in the Sudan? To find that crypt?”

  “To find what was supposed to be in the crypt,” said Gabriel.

  “We didn’t know it was a whole pyramid and that getting our Ancients out of it would require so much drama. Ugh,” said Patsy. She paused, her gaze drifting over my shoulder. I looked, but saw nothing.

  “No, Dottie,” she said, “we can’t take the banshee home. Because he’s on loan, that’s why. I don’t care if he has a cute accent.” Patsy rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you just go home with him? I’m sure he’d love a smart-ass dead girl hanging around his castle.”

  I glanced at Damian. “Um . . . does she hear voices? You know, inside her head?”

  “She can see and talk to spirits,” he explained.

  “Yeah,” offered Patsy in a grumpy voice, “and they won’t leave me alone.”

  “Can you see . . . er, the ghost who haunts here?” asked Dove. Her gaze skittered toward mine.

  Patsy looked around. “I only see Dottie and Camdon—he’s the banshee. He’s not technically a ghost . . . more like a creature who screams like a preteen at a One Direction concert. Although he was human once. Or something. I have a hard time keeping all this paranormal shit straight.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Dove. “Because this building is supposed to be haunted. Screaming is reported all the time.”

  Patsy paused, took a breath, and then closed her eyes. After a moment, her eyes popped open and she said, “No one’s answering. So, no spirits are here, or they’re ignoring me—and it’s really hard to ignore me.”

  “My mother was murdered in this building,” I said faintly. My mother’s spirit wasn’t here after all. I couldn’t bear the thought of her trapped here, in the place where she died, unable to move on. I wobbled, or maybe the world tilted on its axis, and I felt the steady hand of Drake slide under my arm to keep me standing upright.

  “Oh, shit,” said Patsy. “I’m sorry. Some spirits just move on. She probably didn’t stick around after . . . well, after.”

  My stomach clenched. I sure as hell didn’t want anyone, much less people who weren’t exactly people, to know more about my past than I did. I kept a tight lid on my past, which was necessary. It’s why I took meds. Why I had to refuse to open the door to my mother’s unsolved murder. Well, at least I didn’t have to do a powwow with my murdered mother. That felt far too much like I was going to therapy and dealing with my issues.

  Still, my heart did a slow, painful turn.

  Oh, Mom.

  “We should go.”

  It wasn’t like Dove and I had agreed to go, but . . . all the same, I knew we would. Gabriel led the way, holding his wife’s hand and guiding her through the chaos of desks, chairs, and tables. Dove followed, and I went after her, and Drake was the caboose on our strange train.

  A long, low moan drifted down the hallway, and lights began to flash.

  “Gah!” cried Dove. She tottered on her shoes, and Gabriel reached back and grabbed her arm.

  “It’s the banshee,” said Patsy. “He’s making sure he’s expelled all the vampire energy. And I think he’s digging the idea of haunting a new place for a while.”

  It didn’t take long to traverse the darkened hall. Thank God for that, because the noise and strange lights were getting louder and brighter. We finally made it out of the main doors of the building. I was glad, too, because being in that building gave me the shivers. I hadn’t wanted to believe that my mother was a ghost. That she’d been trapped in that building or, worse, chosen to stay on the earthly plane. I wasn’t sure how the afterlife worked. I knew what the ancient Egyptians believed, but I’d never quite figured out my own beliefs about the soul.

  But why not, right? I was standing in the company of vampires listening to a banshee wail.

  You know, it’s no wonder I’m a little nuts.

  Dove looked over her shoulder at the building where the moans echoed and shuddered. Her gaze was torn between terror and awe.

  I had avoide
d Building A, ignored the whispered tales of the screaming woman, and generally tried to pretend my past wasn’t sitting inside it labeled, “This Is the Moment Moira’s Life Changed Forever.” Yes, my life changed, but my mother’s had ended.

  I couldn’t bear it, and I felt a touch on my arm.

  “Are you all right?” asked Drake in hushed concern.

  “Not really,” I said. “But that’s okay.”

  “I’m very sorry about your mother,” he said softly.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He nodded, his gaze on mine, and I felt something there, hovering between us like silence and hope and desire. It was an odd moment, which was broken when Drake squeezed my shoulder and then headed down the stairs.

  A man who looked exactly like Gabriel waited at the bottom of the concrete steps. I jolted. Twins? After all the events of the evening, discovering that Gabriel had an identical twin shouldn’t have been a big surprise.

  “Ren, this is Dr. Moira Jameson, and that’s Dove.” Patsy waved toward the man. “This is Ren Marchand.”

  He inclined his head. Then he took in Dove’s shoes. One white eyebrow rose, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned to Patsy and asked, “Everyone else has returned to Broken Heart. Are you ready?”

  “Yeah,” said Patsy. “You take Dr. Jameson. I’ll get Drake.”

  “Dove,” said Gabriel, opening his arms.

  “Wait. What?” I asked as I watched Drake stepped into the embrace of Patsy. Now, how was that fair? I’d sorta claimed him in my mind, and the married pregnant woman shouldn’t get dibs. Plus, her belly made the whole thing a little awkward.

  “Dr. Jameson,” said Ren. He wiggled his fingers in a “c’mere” gesture.

  “Is this really the time for a hugging circle?” I asked. “I thought we were in a hurry.”

  “We are. Get into the man’s arms,” demanded Patsy. “We’re taking the shortcut home.”

  Dove shrugged, and tiptoed her traitorous grad-student body into Gabriel’s arms.

  I was the only holdout, and I decided I’d gone along with the madness so far, what was a supernatural squeeze? I walked into Ren’s waiting arms. He was muscled and warm and smelled nice. But I couldn’t help but wish that Drake was my hugger. No offense to Ren. I’m sure he was a very nice whatever-he-was.