by A. J. Colby
“You okay?” Tillman asked, seeming to forget that he hated my guts.
“I need to get out of here. Can you give me a ride to Asylum?”
“Why the hell do you want to go there?”
“I don’t. What I want to do is go home, but to do that I need my car, and that’s at Asylum.”
“Oh no you don’t, missy,” Alyssa interrupted, emerging from the kitchen to pin me in place with a glare. “We still don’t know why you reacted so strongly to that bite. You can barely stand as it is, and there’s no way I’m unleashing you on a bunch of unwitting motorists.”
“I feel fine,” I protested, which wasn’t a lie as long as I ignored the pounding in my head and the way the room swirled around me.
Her pinched look left no doubt that she wasn’t buying it for a second, and glancing at Tillman I found a similar expression of disbelief on his face.
“You’re staying with me,” Alyssa said in a tone that left little room for argument. “Agent, would you be kind enough to give Riley a ride to my house?”
Tillman didn’t look at all happy at the notion of spending more time with me, but he had the sense not to disagree with the fae. She could be quite intimidating when she wanted to be. Still, he made no effort to sound keen on the idea when he replied with a terse, “Sure.”
“That’s decided then. I’ll get Vanessa settled with a sedative and then head home. I trust Agent Tillman can keep an eye on you until then.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, too tired to argue with her.
* * *
The ride to Alyssa’s house was the most awkward forty minutes of my life, which was saying a lot given the prior events of the day—I could barely breathe through the tension clouding the air. Looking as uncomfortable as I felt, Tillman had spent the entire drive grinding his teeth and gripping the steering wheel tight enough to make the faux leather creak beneath his fingers. When we pulled up to the curb in front of the duplex, I thanked my guardian angel that he hadn’t decided to drive us off a bridge just to spite me.
Eager to get out of the car, and as far away as possible from his cloud of malcontent, my hand was already on the handle when I glanced up at the house to see a wrinkled face staring out through the gap between the drapes in the living room.
“Gah!”
“What’s wrong?” Tillman asked, forgetting for the moment that he was supposed to be pissed off at me, his instinct to protect taking over and prompting him to reach for the gun at his hip.
“Ah... nothing,” I said, eyeing Alyssa’s creepy housemate staring at us with gleaming black eyes. “Would you mind if we waited out here, though?”
Damn, that thing is creepy.
“Sure. Whatever,” he replied, sounding like a scorned teenager as he dropped his hand away from his gun.
From the corner of my eye I watched him unbuckle his seatbelt and shift positions, but he remained ramrod straight, staring out of the windshield.
Rubbing a hand over my face, wishing it would help ease the headache blooming behind my eyes, I sighed. “I am sorry, you know.”
“So you’ve said,” he replied, his lips barely moving.
“And I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”
Some of the stiffness went out of him as he shifted in his seat to face me. “I do believe you.”
Stunned to silence, it took me a moment to find my voice. “Then why are you giving me such a hard time?”
“Just because I believe you, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you. You humiliated me.”
“I...” I floundered, struggling to find the words to express the depth of my regret. “I’m such an asshole.”
“Yeah, you kinda are,” he said, making me cringe. “But you’re also brave and a lot stronger than you think.” He was the second person to say that in the past few days though I struggled to see it myself. Consumed with my own thoughts I almost didn’t hear the words that followed. “To be honest, I’m kinda jealous.”
“Is someone giving you shit? Is that why you look like you’ve been living at the gym?” I asked, gesturing to the muscular shoulders that strained the seams of his suit jacket. When he didn’t answer, but instead looked away guiltily while the tips of his ears flushed crimson, I felt myself grow hot with anger.
“Who is it?” I growled. “Point out the jerk giving you crap and I’ll shove their ass in the toilet, too!”
Tillman’s sudden bark of laughter didn’t erase all the tension between us, but it made a hell of a dent. Feeling as though I could relax a little, I let my head fall back against the headrest and closed my eyes. I’d spent a few hours out cold, but that didn’t come close to the full night’s sleep I needed.
Fucking vamps.
“What the hell is that?” Tillman asked, startling me out of my glorious moment of peace.
Opening my eyes, I found him staring at something beyond me with mild disgust. Following the direction of his gaze, I was unsurprised to see Marvin still watching us like a vulture circling a dying man.
“Oh, that,” I said, suppressing a shudder. “That’s Marvin.”
Raising his brows as if to say “Seriously?” he asked, “But what is it?”
“Alyssa says he’s a phoenix. Personally, I prefer to think that he’s something straight out of my nightmares. Oh, and he’s a creepy stalker perv.”
“Is that why you asked me to wait with you?” Tillman asked, giving me a sideways look.
“Would you want to be alone with that thing?”
“Well, no,” he admitted.
“Yeah. Me either.”
* * *
We’d dissolved into companionable silence when Tillman broke the quiet, rousing me from where I floated halfway between waking and dreams thanks to exhaustion and the painkillers Alyssa had supplied.
“So... what’s the deal with your friend, Juliet?” He tried to sound casually nonchalant, but there was no mistaking the schoolboy curiosity behind his question.
Grinning, I replied with a question of my own. “Why? You got a were fetish, or something?”
“No!” he spluttered, turning several shares of scarlet. “I was just asking. Forget it.”
“It’s cool. We are pretty irresistible,” I said with a wide smile, hoping to set him at ease, before breaking into a chuckle. When he remained quiet and continued to stare out of the windshield, I added, “I think she’s single.”
“Really?” he asked, perking up and turning wide, hopeful eyes to me.
Oh yeah, that boy’s got a serious case of fur fever.
Any additional inquiries I might have made into Tillman’s interest in Juliet were interrupted by the throaty purr of Alyssa’s car turning onto the block. I made a point of filing the newly discovered information away for further examination when all this was over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THE WITCHING HOUR had come and gone by the time I was safely ensconced in Alyssa’s spare bedroom, supplied with yet another pair of slinky pajamas that left little to the imagination. I was tempted to just sleep in my clothes, but thought better of sleeping in the shirt smelling of vampire, blood, and Hank. I was trying to distance myself from the hunky were, not incite more inappropriate thoughts. The wolf huffed her agreement, glad to be free of the scent of another were when I stripped off the shirt and scrunched it up into a ball.
Tillman had left a few minutes before with the promise that he would let me know if he heard from Holbrook. His demeanor had become more unsure than frosty, and although it wasn’t his previous friendliness, it was definitely a step in the right direction.
I’d just climbed into bed and was reaching for the light switch when a soft knock sounded on the door a moment before Alyssa’s smiling face peered into the room.
“I thought you might like some hot cocoa,” she said, stepping into the room carrying two mugs, thankfully without her feathered watchdog in tow.
I gratefully accepted the steaming mug, but was surprised when she sat down on the edge of the bed bes
ide me. Setting her own mug on the night stand she withdrew a small, shiny object from the pocket of her robe.
“I brought you this too.”
I wasn’t sure what to think, looking at the charm in the shape of a golden feather hanging from a long chain. It was beautifully crafted, the detail so intricate it almost appeared to be real, and for a moment I could have sworn it felt warm in my hand.
“It’s beautiful, thank you. But you didn’t have to.” I didn’t own much jewelry, and couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn any of it.
“Don’t argue, Riley. Just promise me you’ll wear it.”
The heaviness in her voice had me nodding in agreement and slipping the chain over my head as she watched.
“If you ever find yourself in trouble, which, knowing you, is likely to be sooner rather than later, break the charm and help will come.”
It sounded like something out of a fairytale, and I was about to tell her as much until I saw the intent look on her face, her rosy cheeks pale with weariness. The seriousness reflected in her violet eyes erased any doubt I might have had at the veracity of her words, and I found myself nodding.
“Um... okay.”
Making a small noise of affirmation in the back of her throat, she retrieved her cocoa and rose to leave, bidding me a goodnight on her way out.
Well, that was weird, I thought as the door closed with a soft sound.
Leaning back against the pillows, I lifted the golden charm from where it lay nestled between my breasts, running my fingers over the fine details. Turning it in the light from the lamp beside the bed, I watched the color of the metal shift from gold to amber and red. A wide yawn that threatened to snap my jaw in two had me abandoning my examination of the necklace and sliding down into the plush mattress in the hopes that I’d get at least a few hours of sleep.
* * *
“Did you have a chance to run the tests you wanted on my blood samples?” I asked the next morning, over breakfast. At the sink, Alyssa froze for a second.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, and I thought I saw her hand tremble when she reached for the milk jug.
“And?” I prompted, waving a piece of toast bearing a thick smear of blackberry jam at her to encourage her to cough up a few more details.
“I only had time to do some preliminary tests, but there were some... anomalies,” she replied, looking away to pour milk over her cereal.
“Anomalies? What the hell does that mean?” I asked, a sick feeling settling in the pit of my stomach, turning the toast to sawdust in my mouth. Anomalies didn’t sound like a good thing.
Bringing her bowl to the table, Alyssa sat across from me, a small crease marring the normally smooth skin between her brows.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff. Whatever this is, it’s way above my head.”
“So, what, I’m some kind of mutant or something? Why didn’t anyone catch this before?” I asked as my mind raced with images of the men in white lab coats showing up to drag me away to a secret government facility where they could dissect and examine me.
“No, nothing like that,” she replied, flashing me a genuine smile, though it did nothing to still the frantic thoughts spiraling in my head. “It’s probably just some kind of reaction from the vamp venom. I need to run more tests and talk to a couple of colleagues. Once I figure out something definitive, I’ll let you know.”
Seeing that I was far from being at ease, she reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “Really, you’ll be fine.”
My nerves were still on high alert, but I nodded as I set down my toast. “I’m not gonna sprout an extra head or anything in the meantime though, right?”
“No, Riley,” she chuckled. “Though maybe if you had another brain you’d be less likely to get into so much trouble.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” I grumbled, sticking my tongue out at her.
I knew so little about my own physiology that I had to accept her explanation, even if it’s rather unscientific nature left me unsettled. Accepting her brief assertion that there was nothing seriously wrong with me and that I wasn’t likely to drop dead anytime soon, I forced myself to finish breakfast and get dressed.
Alyssa remained uncharacteristically quiet during the ride from her house to Asylum, her thoughts elsewhere, and she only stopped long enough for me to hop out of the car and say thanks for her hospitality. Watching her taillights round the corner at the end of the block, I shook my head in confusion, deciding that it was still too damn early to figure out the inner workings of her mood swings.
I was relieved to find the SUV parked where I’d left it, and without a scratch, though the ticket tucked under the wiper didn’t help improve my mood. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain to Cordova that I’d lost his Escalade when I still wasn’t sure he’d forgiven me for borrowing his Ferrari. Still, it had been a hell of a lot of fun to drive, and totally worth inciting his wrath for a little while.
* * *
The small boost of energy I’d gotten from a few hours of sleep didn’t even last through half of the drive home. A nasty accident on the highway had brought traffic to a stand still for over an hour, burning through my reserves. Turning onto the gravel drive leading down to my cabin, all I wanted to do was put on my fuzzy pajamas, curl up with Loki, and go back to sleep. Yawning wide enough to bring tears to my eyes, I narrowly avoided side-swiping the nearly identical black SUV sitting in my driveway.
“Now what?” I asked in a growl, my shoulders tightening in irritation.
Tillman was already out of the SUV and waiting on the doorstep by the time I’d opened my door and slid down to the gravel. Weariness weighed down my limbs, reducing me to the shuffle of an arthritic grandma, and I wanted nothing more than to tell him to bugger off.
Instead, I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the glare of the early afternoon sun reflecting off the windows and asked, “Didn’t you get enough of me yesterday?”
I caught a minute twitch of his lips that might have been the beginnings of a smile before he smothered it and donned his professional, emotionless mask.
“I need to ask you some questions about the incident here the other day.”
“Oh, yeah. That.” In the excitement of the last few days I’d entirely forgotten about the dead coyote someone had dumped on my doorstep as a warning. I still didn’t know what it was a warning of, and I didn’t like that. I didn’t much like that something that dangerous could seem so insignificant compared to the other crazy happenings in my life, either. “You could have asked me last night.”
“You didn’t seem like you were in any condition to answer,” he said, raising an eyebrow, challenging me to deny the fact I’d gotten myself mixed up in some heavy shit.
Skating past his observation, I asked, “So you drove two hours just to come question me? I do have a phone, you know. You could’ve just called me.”
“I was headed to Idaho Springs and figured you weren’t too far out of my way.”
I turned a skeptical eye on him, knowing that my cabin wasn’t even close to Idaho Springs. Regardless of the suspect reason he gave, he’d clearly made a point of coming to see me.
He’s here now, there’s no point turning him away.
“Well, I guess you’d better come in.”
I stumbled toward the cabin, moving on legs that felt like they were made of rubber. No sooner had I set foot over the threshold then I was greeted by Loki serenading me with one of his trademark yowls and body-slamming my legs, the impact almost making me topple.
“Hey buddy. Missed you too,” I said, bending to scratch behind his ears, but he’d already dismissed me, and was making a beeline for Tillman.
Traitor.
Wasting little time on formalities, Tillman launched into the questions before I could even kick off my shoes. “What trouble have you gotten mixed up in now?”
I’d have taken offense at his assumption that I was in trouble if it wa
sn’t so painfully obvious. Ignoring his question, I shed my jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch and shuffled towards the kitchen. “Coffee first, questions after.”
Wisely, Tillman kept any protests he might have had to himself as he followed me, dodging around Loki’s persistent demands for attention. I desperately wanted a shower and some clean clothes, but I didn’t want to strain the tenuous good will growing between Tillman and me. For now, I’d have to content myself with an extra strong cup of coffee.
We shared an uncertain silence as the coffee maker hissed and gurgled. Lamenting the loss of the coveted brew I’d had my sticky fingers on for a few short moments at Asylum, I filled two mugs and ambled over to the small table in the kitchen. Tillman had already claimed a seat at the table, and was occupied with trying to keep Loki out of his lap, and failing miserably.
“Do you want something to eat?” I asked, figuring I could at least pretend to be a gracious host.
“No thanks. I stopped on the way up.”
“Good, ‘cause all I’ve got is some ketchup and maybe a packet or two of soy sauce that may, or may not, be expired.”
Tillman started to chuckle until he realized I was being serious, at which point his expression turned to one of pity. That was so much worse.
“Life of the starving artist, and all that,” I said, feeling the need to quantify my spartan lifestyle.
Sliding into my chair at the table, I figured I’d delayed as long as I could without pissing him off. Taking a fortifying gulp of coffee and tucking my feet beneath me on the chair, I asked, “So, what did you want to ask me?”
Across from me, the young agent shooed Loki off his lap long enough to pull a folded piece of paper from the pocket of his suit jacket and push it towards me.
“What’s this?” I asked, picking it up.
“Open it.”
Sighing, I set down my cup and unfolded the paper to reveal a photocopy of the note that had been left on my doorstep. I half expected it contain some kind of nasty curse that melted my face off given how well the last few days had gone, and let out a slow breath of relief when the sheet of paper appeared to offer no immediate threat.
