Drive Me Wild (The Others)

by Christine Warren

  He shook his head. “No. This is not your business, Missy. This is a matter for the Council to discuss.”

  Missy shook her head right back. “The last time I checked, Mr. Lay-Down-the-Law, the Council had thirteen members, not two. So if it’s a Council matter, you obviously can’t make any decisions about it until you speak to the entire Council. And since that meeting supposedly ended at two, you’re not going to be doing that tonight. I’m sure the rest of the Council is already home in bed by now.”

  Graham laughed, but quickly schooled his face into more sober lines when his wife turned to glare at him. “Sorry, honey, but you’re forgetting that almost half the Council is vampire. It’s barely teatime for them. I’m sure the lot of them are still at the club drinking my brandy and telling lies about the length of their fangs.”

  Missy huffed out a breath. “You know what, sweetums? Next time, don’t help.”

  Tess laughed, feeling much better than she had before Missy walked in, and stood. “No, I think Missy’s right, Graham. It is late, and I do want to get home. I’ve done my job and delivered my message, and I have a real job I need to get to in the morning. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just thank you for the coffee and be on my way.”

  Rafe growled. “I don’t think so. Tess, sit back down and be quiet until I tell you that you can leave.”

  She felt her eyebrow shoot up like a rocket. “What was that? I’m sorry, but I have this strange sort of deafness. I can never hear it when people are horribly rude to me. Would you mind repeating what you just said?”

  “You heard me.”

  She stepped forward until her toes practically touched his and tilted her head back to glare up at him. “No. No, I really think I didn’t.”

  She heard the snarl welling in his chest, but it was too late to back off now. She braced herself for his explosion, but it never happened. Instead, Graham stepped forward quickly and placed his hand on Rafe’s chest to hold him back.

  “Come on,” the Lupine said as he nodded to his wife, who gently urged Tess back into her seat. “This isn’t going to get anything done. Tess, please stay here for five more minutes while Rafe and I go see if we can round up the members of the Council. If we can, we’ll talk this over real fast and give you an answer to bring back to the Witches’ Council; if not, you’ll get to go home, and we’ll contact you tomorrow with our answer.”

  Tess pursed her lips. “I liked Missy’s idea better.”

  “So did I,” Missy said with a shrug, “but as compromises go, this one could be worse. Besides, now that I’m awake, I want a midnight snack. You can keep me company while I bug the staff at the club and wait for them to send something over for me. I really would like to get to know you better.”

  Tess looked at Missy’s kind and friendly face, then at Rafe’s harsh, set one. She sighed. “Fine. But if you aren’t back in fifteen minutes, I’m out of here, like it or not.”

  “Deal.” Graham was already dragging Rafe toward the door. “In the meantime, make sure my wife doesn’t eat anything with chocolate in it. She’s breast-feeding, and it gives the baby hives.”

  Four

  “So,” Missy said as she settled onto a bar stool at the island in the massive kitchen. A huge roast beef sandwich and an enormous glass of milk sat in front of her, recently delivered by a frighteningly efficient waiter from the club next door. “You said you have to be at work in the morning. What do you do?”

  “I own a shop on West Ninth Street.” Tess eyed the sandwich in amazement as Missy raised it to her mouth for the first bite. She couldn’t believe this petite little woman actually intended to eat something larger than her own head. Although Missy Winters wasn’t model-thin, she was by no means a heavy woman. By rights, any woman who called this gargantuan meal a midnight snack ought to weigh approximately seven billion pounds. “It’s an herb-and-tea shop. The East Village Apothecary.”

  Missy chewed, swallowed, and blotted her lips daintily with a napkin. “How fabulous.” She drained a third of the milk in one thirsty gulp. “How long have you been in business?”

  Tess watched her bite off another slab of cow. “About seven years. But the shop’s been around since the 1970s. I bought out the previous owners.”

  “How old were you when you did that? Nine?”

  Tess laughed and made a face. “Twenty-two. Don’t let the Shirley Temple hair fool you. I’m older than I look.”

  “You must be, since you look about sixteen.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Missy finished the first half of her sandwich and grinned. “Sure you don’t want some? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  “No, thanks.” Tess shook her head and watched with wide eyes as Missy shrugged and bit into the second side of beef. “I mean, I really don’t mean to be rude, but … how the heck do you eat like that and not outweigh your husband?”

  Missy choked down a swallow of milk and laughed. “Don’t do that while I’m drinking. You almost made me snort milk.” She quickly cleared her throat. “And believe me, if I’d tried to do this six months ago, I probably would weigh more than Graham. But this is one of the best fringe benefits of having baby werewolves. I burn calories like a raging metabolic inferno.”

  Tess felt her eyebrows arch. “When did you have the baby? Last year?”

  “Last month. Two weeks ago, to be precise. Well, two weeks and five days.” Missy beamed with a proud-new-mama smile and downed another third of the milk. “A boy. Roark. I’d force you to come upstairs and meet him, but he was fussy tonight and now that he’s finally asleep I don’t want to risk waking him.”

  “Two weeks ago? You’ve got to be kidding.” Tess gestured to the tightly belted robe at Missy’s waist. “What did you do, adopt? Because two weeks is not enough time to lose a baby belly.”

  “That’s the other fringe benefit.” Missy pushed her empty plate away and sat back with a satisfied grin. “I told you, I burn calories like it’s going out of style. Have since I first got pregnant. Werewolves have really fast metabolisms. They probably burn seven or eight thousand calories a day on average. They eat like horses. When they’re breast-feeding, human women burn about five thousand. And I’ve just discovered, much to my joy, that when breast-feeding a baby werewolf, a human woman can burn somewhere around twelve thousand calories a day without breaking a sweat.” Her grin widened. “Ain’t life grand?”

  Tess laughed. “That’s a diet plan I don’t think I’ve seen on the infomercials.”

  “Not in this lifetime. The Lupines—well, all the Others, actually—are trying to remain secret from the human world, but it’s getting harder all the time. They’re not about to go telling people anything about themselves until they’ve got absolutely no other choice.”

  “Is that likely to take much longer?” Tess asked, thinking of the conversation she’d overheard between her grandfather and the other members of the Witches’ Council. “I mean, I’m hardly an expert, but I think that might have been one of the things my gr—the council wanted to talk to Rafe about. I’ve heard some of the members rumbling about how some of the Others in the city haven’t been keeping as tight a lid on things as usual. There were rumors about some Fae being spotted over the summer.”

  Missy sighed. “Yeah, that didn’t exactly put the Council in a good mood. It was a huge mix-up, and we sorted it out as soon as we found out what was going on. But I suppose there will always be people who aren’t happy with that. It makes me crazy, but it also makes me happy that Dmitri’s Council position went to Rafe and not to Graham. Call me kooky, but I’d prefer it if my husband spent his time worrying about keeping me and the baby happy, not the entire Other population of Manhattan.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you—”

  Missy’s scowl smoothed out into a warm smile so rapidly that Tess wondered if she’d ever really seen the angelic face wearing such a hostile expression. She must have imagined it.

  “Oh, you didn
’t. I get carried away sometimes. I’m the one who should apologize,” Missy assured her. “But that subject is no fun, anyway. I want to hear more about you. What sorts of things do you sell at your herb-and-tea shop? Besides herbs and tea, of course.”

  Tess shook her head and laughed. “That’s the bulk of it. The herbs range from fragrant to flavorful, though most of what I have is medicinal in one way or another. I’m a licensed herbalist, so I make blends for specific problems people might have, and I tailor remedies to specific people.”

  Missy’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s really cool. I’ve always found herbal medicine to be a fascinating subject. How did you get into that?”

  “It’s sort of a family business. My grandmother was an herbalist, too, though she just practiced for her family and her neighbors. She never made a career out of it.”

  As if Tess’s grandfather would have tolerated his wife having a career beyond pleasing him.

  “Cool. And you said you sell teas, too?”

  Tess nodded. “Good-quality loose-leaf from all over the world. And I make up my own blends to sell as well.”

  “I’ll have to come see you and try some. And maybe see if you’ve got something to put fussy, cranky baby werewolves to sleep a little faster.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “So that’s it? Herbs and medicines and teas?”

  Tess started to nod, then shrugged. “Well, I do readings, too, when things slow down. It’s a nice extra income.”

  Missy looked curious. “What kind of readings? Tea leaves?”

  “I don’t have the patience for that,” Tess laughed. “No, I read tarot cards. And the occasional palm. My grandmother taught me that, too.”

  “No way! Really?” Missy’s eyes lit up like a teenager’s, and she almost bounced on her stool with excitement. “Oh, now I definitely have to come visit. I’ve always wanted to have a reading done, but I never knew if I could trust any of those people who put signs out in their windows and call themselves Madam Juniper, or whatever.”

  “Some of them aren’t bad. You just have to be careful, and take things with a grain of salt. Like, some people think tarot tells the future. It really doesn’t, and anyone who says it does is lying. All it does is point out what sort of circumstances are happening around you and how those circumstances could turn out given your current way of thinking. It’s totally changeable.”

  Tess shifted in her seat and felt one of her inner jacket pockets bump gently against her side, as if reminding her what she always carried with her. Some people kept emergency flashlights. She kept emergency divining tools. Probably because she was a witch, not a Boy Scout.

  She looked at Missy and reached into the pocket. “Actually,” she said slowly, “I have a deck with me now. If you want to see a really quick idea of what it’s like.”

  Missy’s expression took on a glow of excitement, and she clapped her hands together. “Oh, you wouldn’t mind? I’d hate to put you out, but I would adore that. If you’re sure you’re not too tired?”

  Tess shook her head and pulled out the velvet pouch that held her favorite deck. “Not at all. I knew I’d be up late, so I took a long nap this afternoon. But since we don’t know how long the guys will be, I won’t do an entire spread. I’ll just let you ask some specific questions and throw down a few cards to try to answer each one. If that’s okay with you?”

  The other woman nodded. “That’s fabulous. Whatever works for you.”

  “Great.” Tess handed the cards to Missy. “Then go ahead and shuffle these. Just play around with them and give them back to me whenever you feel like you’re ready.”

  Missy nodded and began shuffling the oversize cards, a frown of concentration creasing her forehead. Tess waited patiently, letting her mind wander into the right space for a reading. After all the years she’d been doing them, it only took a minute. Contrary to what most people believed, tarot had a lot less to do with the supernatural than it did with psychotherapy. Reading cards didn’t require magic powers, just a creative mind and an understanding of the ways in which people’s brains worked. Tess had always found it to be a funny coincidence that she was both a witch and a tarot reader, rather than a given.

  She accepted the cards when Missy passed them back to her, then twisted them in her hands so that the side that had been on the top when Missy held them was on the top when she held them as well.

  “Great,” Tess said. “Now go ahead and ask one question at a time, and I’ll lay down three or four cards to try to get an answer. You don’t have to ask out loud if you don’t want to, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “All right. Tell me when you’re ready.”

  Missy paused for a second, closed her eyes in concentration, then opened them again. “Okay. Ready.”

  Tess laid down the first card. The Queen of Swords. She felt her eyebrow twitch, and wondered what question Missy had asked. She had assumed the new mother would want to know something about her son or her own future, but Tess didn’t really see Missy as the Queen of Swords type. She seemed too earthy and nurturing for swords. If she’d had to guess, Tess would have said Missy was a pentacles type. The Queen of Pentacles, perhaps, or maybe even the Empress card. If anyone was the swords type, it was Tess herself.

  “The Queen of Swords usually represents a woman,” she explained, “though it could be representing an idea or a situation. Assuming it’s a woman, though, she’s someone who is mature. Not necessarily old, but grown up. Not a kid. She tends to be intelligent and focused, maybe even a little cerebral. She approaches things with logic, and prefers to talk out a situation as opposed to attacking it. You might say she uses her wits first. Actually, witty is a generally good word for her. She can be willful, too, but in the upright position like this, she’s not manipulative, which is good.”

  She looked at Missy to gauge the other woman’s reaction, but the blonde just smiled and kept her question to herself, nodding encouragement.

  Shrugging, Tess reached for a second card. Who knew what Missy had asked? Maybe the card made sense to her.

  “The King of Wands. That could be your husband.” She tapped the card with one fingertip. “If it isn’t, Graham is still a good example of what this guy is like. He’s mature—again, not old, but grown up—and generally very charismatic. He’s energetic and successful and really charming. Probably too charming for his own good. The kind of man who just blazes through life on sheer force of personality. Like I said, either Graham or someone a lot like him.”

  Missy’s mouth curved. “Yes, it does sound a lot like someone I know pretty well.”

  Tess smiled. At least that seemed like an appropriate card for Missy’s spread. Then she flipped a third card and stared at it for a minute. So much for the “appropriate” idea. What the heck was going on?

  “The Wheel of Fortune,” she said slowly. “That’s … interesting. One meaning is just what the card sounds like. It’s the turn of luck in your life. Upright like this, it means good things are happening, and you’re benefiting from them, which is great. But some people also think that when it shows up in a reading it signifies the influence of Fate on your life. That whatever is happening or about to happen to you is something you really can’t control. You just have to ride it out and see where it takes you, because that’s where you’re destined to be.”

  She hesitated and looked back over the two other cards she’d already laid down. An uneasy sort of feeling had begun to twist inside of her stomach. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she thought it might have something to do with this impromptu reading. Her hand hovered over the deck until Missy looked at her and smiled her warm, comforting smile.

  “Go ahead,” Missy urged. “You said you’d set out four cards on the question and see what they said.”

  Tess obediently reached for a final card, slipped it off the top of the deck, and carefully turned it over. The Two of Cups.

  “Shit.”

  Missy looked at the card, then back up at Tess with an amused expres
sion. “What’s the matter? It’s not like it’s the Death card,” she pointed out. “It looks like a very pretty card to me. Isn’t it a good one?”

  “The Death card isn’t really bad.” Tess’s reply came automatically. Her eyes were still glued to the fourth card laid out on the smooth, pristine countertop. “It just means change.”

  “Then what does this card mean?”

  “True love.”

  “Well then.” Missy looked from the card to Tess as a beatific smile spread across her pretty face. “Isn’t that just perfect?”

  Five

  “Perfect,” Rafe growled as he stalked beside Graham through the semi-hidden hallway that connected Vircolac to the library in Graham’s neighboring house. “Thirteen bloody members on that bloody Council, and I still get stuck with the job of making contact with the witches.”

  “You are the head of the Council,” Graham pointed out, sounding amused.

  “And you are not helping.”

  Rafe’s temper had not improved during the brief, informal meeting with the rest of the Council members. He had his suspicions about why the witches would want to contact the Others for the first time in nearly four hundred years, and none of the possibilities he had in mind made him very happy. The only good thing he could see coming out of the situation was having met Tess. And since she seemed not to consider him to be her favorite person at the moment, even that couldn’t soften the entire blow of being caught up in this political mess. He growled.

  “Look,” Graham said, his tone carefully reasonable, “if we’re right and the witches are considering breaking out of the Accord, it’s important for us to talk to them before they do anything rash.”