The man shook his head.
It was a boldfaced lie, but with the way this man was shaking, I could have told him that pigs actually could fly but chose not to and he would have believed me.
I moved slowly toward him. “So I’m going to take Kandy. You will not come looking for her and if you do . . .”
I ripped the duct tape from his mouth, not feeling bad about the layer of lip that came with it. “Do you know what will happen to you if you come after Kandy, if you tell anyone about this?”
His mouth opened and closed a few times with some false starts. “You’ll eat me?”
I smiled. I might have been having a little too much fun with this. “Precisely. So I’m going to go now and you will just tell everyone the truth. Kandy left you because you’re a drunk ass. Say it after me.”
“I’m a drunk ass.”
I patted him on the head. “Good boy.”
I let a slender claw slip through my nail and I reached down and with a quick slash, undid the tape at his wrists.
Leaving him frozen in the living room, I wiped my prints from the door handle and then slipped out into the night. As I walked down the dark street toward home, I called Nash.
“Violet? Are you okay? Did it go as planned?”
“Went great.” I walked down a few houses and leaned against a light post. “Think I’ve got a knack for intimidation.”
It wasn’t four seconds later that Boyfriend went screaming out into the night in his tighty whities and hot pink socks.
I smiled. The devil was in the details.
“Do you need someone to come pick you up?”
“Nah, I’ll just take a run. Can you call the cops from the pay phone to come pick him up?”
I hung up and shifted and headed down the street after lover boy for just a little more fun.
Chapter Three
SHE KNEW WHAT sort of men they were when they came into her Gifts and Things shop; the kind that were looking for the things part. She carefully locked the cabinet beneath the cash register and greeted them in the middle of the showroom floor.
“How can I help you?”
“We’re looking for Mrs. Goodwick,” the older of the two young men said.
“I’m Miss Goodwick,” she said, folding her hands at her waist like her mother used to do.
A curious look passed over both men’s faces and the older one smiled and shook his head with a strange laugh.
“We must be looking for your mother,” he said.
“Then try the church on Main. She’s buried in the family plot.”
The men looked at each other with a mirrored raised eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, Miss Goodwick. Our father spoke of a Mrs. Goodwick, who helped him out of a few tight spots. We were hoping that she could do the same for us.”
With a deep breath, she looked up at the two men and couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t seen the resemblance the moment they came into her store in the first place. Maybe she was losing her touch. She should have known those golden eyes anywhere.
“What can I help you two with?”
“We need some special ingredients for an old recipe?” the older brother said as he handed her a small slip of white paper.
Serena’s eyebrows jumped when she saw the names of two very rare and dangerous roots. She swallowed hard and looked back up at the men.
“I’m not sure I’ve got the second one,” she said, biting her tongue. She was a terrible liar. But she just had to know why they needed these two ingredients together. “I’ve got the first one in the back.”
She led the men to the darker corner of the shop. Not too many people ventured back here. There was a reputation about the corner of Goodwick’s Gifts and Things—that strange and dangerous things lay behind the glass countertop and on the shelves with locked doors.
She stepped behind the counter and took the key from around her neck and unlocked one cabinet.
“So you’re a witch then?” the younger one said.
Serena just laughed softly as she reached for the darkly colored, unlabeled bottle. With an extra smile, she pulled two more unlabeled bottles out of the cabinet and locked it up.
She set the bottles on the counter and looked very hard at the younger of the two brothers. He had his father’s eyes but not his features. He must take after his mother, she thought.
“I’m not a witch, young Mr. Garrett. I just know a lot of things other people have forgotten.”
She opened up one of the extra bottles she had pulled out. “Like if you boil this herb in water from a fresh stream collected at dawn, it will stop the headaches that come after visions.”
The young man gulped and his face paled.
She turned her gaze to the older of the brothers; he was his father’s son down to the dark look in his eyes. She opened up the other bottle and pulled out a dirty brown root. “And a teaspoon of this one ground up in Neosporin will heal almost anything, not that you need it.”
She set the root down on the counter and lifted the dark glass bottle. “And this, mixed with that other ingredient, will raise the dead.”
She set the bottle back on the counter and clenched her jaw. “But no, I don’t practice witchcraft.”
“We’ll take the lot,” the older brother said. “And can you get us the other thing?”
“Maybe,” was all she said as she began to package up envelopes with enough of the plants in them for their purpose.
“Money is no object.”
“It’s not the material cost I’m thinking about,” she said as she left the counter and walked up to the cash register. The boys followed. “Spells like these cost more than just money, gentlemen.”
Serena looked down at the ingredients and looked squarely at the young men.
It was the elder’s words that convinced her to find that other ingredient for them. “She’s our sister. We’d do anything for her. No matter the cost.”
I WOKE UP and stretched along the couch. Dreaming normal dreams again. Well, normal for me. That was nice. And dreaming in full-blown writing fodder to get back into the groove again. That was even better. I needed to get writing again. I needed something juicy to wave underneath my boss’s nose to make sure he always loved me. The movie that I’d written for Drew and Cloak & Dagger Productions was awesome, but I needed to make sure that the awesome kept flowing so those mortgage payments kept getting paid.
I took in a deep breath and stretched. I sat up on the couch and scratched my head. No one had started breakfast yet. Maybe I could see if I’d picked anything up from my domestic god.
I SMELLED CHAZ before he ran his hands around my waist. “When did you get in?”
I leaned back into his strong chest. “Don’t know. Went for a run and then crashed on the couch.”
“You should have come to bed so I could greet you properly from your quest.” Chaz chuckled and I felt his laughter in the muscles of his stomach and in the soft ebb of power that he’d opened up around us.
He reached beyond me and flipped the pancakes I was making a mess of. “Have you seen your planner for today?”
“Skyping with the boss at ten, meeting with two from the pack around lunch, and dinner with Waylon.” I gulped at the mention of the last appointment. I wasn’t quite ready to deal with the emotional hiccup that was the impending visit of my long lost cousin.
“And it’s nine thirty. Let me finish these or you will starve. You need food, otherwise you’re a monster.”
“I’m a monster either way.”
I pulled away and grabbed my coffee. I went to sit on the counter next to him as he worked on a stack of pancakes that could have fed an army, but really would only need to feed me, Shadow, and Chaz. Guess he was used to more people sleeping over.
“I’d like to put something on the table,” he said as he flipped the pancake.
“Butter? I can get it for you.” I was being purposely obtuse.
“I think we should move in together.”
“I don’t like having to schedule time with you. And if we lived together, it would automatically be more time together. I could rent out my house and get some extra income. And I think I can build my gun cabinet in that little storage under the stairs and . . .” He looked up at my blank face. “Violet?”
A million things were running through my head and, of course, I latched onto the wrong one. “I don’t think you should get rid of your house.”
“You don’t want me to move in?”
“No.”
“Oh.” His eyebrows jumped and he moved away from the stove. “That didn’t go as planned.”
I hung my head. “I really shouldn’t be allowed to talk before coffee.”
“Maybe you’re just more truthful before coffee.” Chaz walked out of the kitchen.
I set my mug on the counter and turned off the stove. The taste of foot in my mouth clashed with the scent of cinnamon in the air.
“Chaz,” I called out through the house.
He hadn’t made it far. The place was pretty small. He was standing in the middle of the living room, his hand on his hip and the other running through his light brown hair.
“How are we supposed to be married under two roofs? I mean, unless you’re having second thoughts about the whole marriage thing.”
My skin tightened at even the mention of breaking of our engagement. “No, Chaz. Never. I want to be married to you. I just don’t think you should let go of your house.”
“Why not?”
Here we go. I was just about to launch into another diatribe where I got to mention that I hadn’t told him everything, breaking rule number one in our relationship.
“First of all. It’s your family house. Secondly, we might need a safe house.”
“A safe house?
“And not just for when we have fights.” I sighed and went to sit on the arm of the chair. “It’s recently been brought to my attention that having places to retreat to around the city is not a bad idea.”
“And who brought this to your attention?”
“Peter Delmont. The executor of Haverty’s will. When I officially took on the responsibilities of Prima, apparently I inherited more than just the Legacy.”
“What are you talking about, Vi?”
“You were right. I inherited everything. Seven safe houses, including the Forest Farms property and about a billion dollars more in different bank accounts and other investments.”
I’d never seen that particular shade of pallor on Chaz’s before. The blood rushed out of his face and he wobbled on his feet. I jumped up from the arm of the chair and guided him to the couch.
“When’d you find this out?” he asked.
“Yesterday morning?” I squeaked.
Chaz defaulted to frustration mode. “We were together last night, Vi. How do you forget something like that? Or were you just going to wait a few more days to tell me you’re a millionaire.”
“Billionaire?” I shifted on the couch to look at him. “See, that’s where I’m having a problem. It’s not my money. It’s the pack’s money, blood money really.”
Chaz looked at me and I could almost feel the rush of questions across his brain.
“I also haven’t signed the papers to officially have everything handed over to me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know what I’m getting into.”
Chaz sighed and looked away from me and across the living room. “It’s ten o’clock.”
“I need to know what you’re thinking. Screw Drew. ”
Chaz chuckled. “You’ve never said that before.”
“I just wrote that man a summer blockbuster that spawned a TV show. I’m golden for the next fifteen minutes before he spazzes out and calls. Right now, I need you to tell me what you think.”
Chaz scratched his head and sighed. “A billion dollars?”
“According to Delmont.”
“Blood money?”
“Might as well be from the Mob. Think bloody horse heads.”
He licked his lips. “What are you going to do?”
“What are we going to do,” I corrected.
Chaz shook his head. “This doesn’t feel like a we thing.”
“Well, when we are married, according to Texas state law, half of it would be yours.”
Chaz raised his eyebrows. “That doesn’t suck.”
“But I’d like to use it to help the pack. Maybe buy the property next to Iris’s and build another house out there.”
“Might be nice to build her a new barn as well.”
“No one touches that barn.”
Chaz frowned. “It’s falling apart. The next big storm and its going to be a wreck.”
I smiled at him. “No one touches the barn, okay?”
“Sure? It’s going to look a little odd with the yacht inside it though.”
“Who says there’s going to be a yacht in it?”
“I’m expecting an awesome birthday present this year.”
I laughed and snuggled in next to him on the couch. He put his arm around my shoulder and I closed my eyes as I rested my head on his shoulder.
“So what are you going to do?” he asked softly into my hair.
“I thought about taking a shower. I think I’m starting to smell.”
He kissed my forehead. “About the inheritance.”
“I want to take a look at the properties. See if any of them are useful. But Forest Farms is going.”
Chaz was silent. He knew why I could never use that place again. Why none of us could ever step foot in that place again. He tightened his arm around my shoulders.
“Should be an easy million from that one and as I stumble through this Prima thing, I’ll figure out where the money needs to go and maybe where the money all came from. I can see legal fees, bail bonds in my future.”
“I could look into that for you. I do have a few contacts.”
“Don’t you have a sacred destiny to fulfill?”
“The Avion is being more cautious about my jobs. She’s still pissed Yasmina used her like that.”
“Don’t think anyone foresaw a time loop rigged by the leader of the Cause.”
“Andrea just wants an invite to the wedding.”
I groaned and sat up. “Can’t we just skip that part?”
“There’s always Vegas,” he suggested.
I stood. “Jessa would kill me if I eloped. And then where would the pack be after that? No, I guess I’ll have to go through with it for the sake of the pack.”
Chaz ran his fingers through my hair. “So you’re going to take the money, right?”
“You going to do this with me?”
Chaz sighed. “Guess I’m stuck with you.”
“Don’t you forget it.” I snuggled in even closer to him and closed my eye eyes to listen to the beat of his golden heart. Everything was going to be okay. With Chaz beside me, I could do anything, even be rich. “I can make an appointment tomorrow with Delmont to sign the papers. How’s your day look?”
“It’s a Saturday. Do lawyers work on Saturdays?”
“I’m his Prima. He’ll work on a Saturday.”
I STOMPED AS I tossed the three shirts I had been holding on to my bed. “I have nothing to wear,” I yelled at my poor defenseless closet.
“You’re starting to sound like Jessa,” Chaz said, appearing in the doorway of my bedroom.
“Well, we are the Key Holder and Guardian. I’m sure there is some personality osmosis.”
Chaz walked across the room and my entire body smiled at him. My day had been crap. I’d had to hand-feed Drew the script for the pilot MoonBlood. I’d had to walk two pack members through getting a driver’s license. Another one cal
led to see if he could take a job at a fast-food place, and I’d had to catch Tucker up on what had happened with Kandice’s boyfriend to make sure that the guy was going to stay gone.
And now I was about to see a cousin I hadn’t talked to in three years.
Chaz slid his hands around my waist and pulled me against his strong frame. Without my charm on, he was warm and goldenly and my radiating power beat like a heartbeat around us. He kissed my nose and smiled. “You’ll look beautiful in anything.”
I snorted. “I have to look great. I haven’t seen Waylon since Aunt Glory’s funeral three years ago.”
Chaz pulled away, catching my hand and pulled me toward the bed with a playful glint in his hazel eyes. “If you need a little relaxation . . .”
I resisted his advances regretfully. “We’ve still got company.”
“We’ve always got company.” He sighed and let my hand go. He flopped on the corner of the bed and watched as I went back to searching through my closet, which was better than it was six months ago, but still didn’t have quite what I wanted to wear.
“Is this you being nervous?”
I stopped flipping through my tops and looked over at him. “It’s just dinner with Waylon. Not a wildebeest from the other side of the Veil.” At least that was the company line I’d been repeating to myself every time the thought of dinner tonight crossed my mind.
“Didn’t answer my question.”
I sighed and finally pulled out a billowing black top to go with dark jeans. Waylon’s call three weeks ago was not frantic, nor did it require silver daggers or claws. He just wanted to know if I wanted to see him and meet his twelve-year-old daughter. Nothing odd about that.
Except Waylon and I hadn’t really talked to each other in a very long while and hadn’t been close since he went off to college more than thirteen years ago.
And now he was back. Out of the blue.
As I pulled on the needed tank top, I thought about it. Was I nervous? “I’m not any more nervous than meeting with the new pack members.”
“Then why aren’t they staying here?”
I pulled on my shirt and ran my fingers through my hair. “Because they are staying at the Ritz-Carlton. What’s my little place compared to the Ritz-Carlton?”
Nine Lives of an Urban Panther Page 3
