Phoenix Ablaze (BBW / Phoenix Shifter Romance) (Alpha Phoenix Book 1)

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Phoenix Ablaze (BBW / Phoenix Shifter Romance) (Alpha Phoenix Book 1) Page 10

by Isadora Montrose


  * * *

  “Do we need any girl food?” Pierce asked her as they pulled out onto the street. “I can stop at the store.”

  “Girl food?”

  “You know, yogurt, salad, flavored tea. Girl food.”

  “You can make me bacon and eggs for breakfast, he-man,” she shot back.

  “So long as you don’t mind Texas toast.”

  There was something very comforting in the solid, competent body next to hers. “I’m beginning to think I made it all up,” she said apologetically. “I don’t blame the police officers for thinking my story was improbable.”

  “Stick to your guns, Diana, you might’ve forgotten to do any one of those things. But not all of them. And not all on the same morning. That creep overplayed his hands.”

  “At least you believe me,” Diana said bitterly, hugging her arms. She felt cold even in her sweatshirt. Even with the heater on.

  “With good reason. I know you,” he said. “Someone went into your place and set you up to seem delusional — or to make you doubt yourself. There is no way you turned your running shoes the wrong way yourself. They were aligned with the others on Sunday morning. Toes out. I saw them. Did you wear them between Sunday evening and Monday morning?”

  “I did not.” She rubbed her arms remembering her marriage. “Cody used to do stuff like that to make me seem like a liar — or a crazy person.”

  “Gaslighting is part of the repertoire of the emotional abuser. But I’ve checked on Jones. Your ex is still locked up in Florence.”

  “Good to know.”

  Gradually she warmed through. She must have nodded off because when the roughness of the road roused her they were high in the foothills. Pierce spoke softly. “It’s not far. Our driveway is up ahead.” There was pride in his voice. She couldn’t see far in the dark. There were no streetlights out here in the country. Pierce’s headlights picked out a typical high desert landscape of short scrubby brush and cactus. In the dimness everything was gray.

  Then they rounded another bend in the road, and Pierce steered up a winding incline to a house nestled in the rocks. The cabin was made of traditional adobe. Its gently rounded contours made it seem as if it was part of the hillside. In the headlights the walls were dull gold. Pierce aimed a remote at the house and the flagstone walkway to the door was illuminated on either side.

  “Welcome to The Eagle’s Aerie,” he said.

  He carried her bag and the groceries into the house and went back to the SUV while Diana wandered around the huge front room. It was spotlessly clean and organized. A single book had been placed dead center on the rectangular coffee table. That table sat on the largest Gray Hills rug she had ever seen. She hadn’t known traditional Navajo rugs came that big. But there was an equally large one under the craftsman style dining table and chairs.

  The main room was sitting room, dining room and kitchen — just like her apartment. Except that her entire place would have comfortably fit into one corner. Pierce returned. He locked the front door behind him and threw the barrel bolts at the top and bottom of the door. “Just in case,” he said. She wasn’t about to argue.

  He picked up her bag. “I want you in my room,” he said. “But there are four bedrooms. You can choose.”

  “That’s a lot of bedrooms,” she said. “For a cabin.” She put cabin in air quotes.

  “I told you — we’re a big family. Even with four rooms, we kids had to double up.”

  “Who did you share with?” she asked.

  “The Warbler.”

  “Grant?”

  “Yeah.”

  She had to laugh. She tucked her hand in his free elbow. “I want to sleep in your room. So long as The Warbler isn’t visiting.”

  “Nah, Grant’s in Milan. And then Frankfurt.”

  She filed that away. For all that he was dismissive of his opera singer brother, Pierce kept tabs on him and he sure sounded proud of the little warbler. Sibling rivalry at its finest.

  His room had a king-sized bed with a navy and white comforter and two low dressers under a big window. It was masculine without being aggressively so. It smelled faintly of him — in a good way. And of course it was immaculate. Pierce put a big hand on one of the dressers. “Put your stuff in here. It’s empty.”

  He opened the cream-colored curtains and cranked the window open so she could look out at the moon and the stars. There were even more stars than there were in Window Rock.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said breathing in the fragrant air. “What is that smell?”

  “Night blooming cactuses. I can lie in bed and watch them being visited by the bats that fertilize them.”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” she said.

  He put his arms around her and held her close. “Not tonight. Tonight we lock up.” He closed and locked the window and pulled the cords to close the draperies. “I’m going to shut the world out. I don’t think we were followed, but this place isn’t exactly a national secret. It’s just more defensible than your apartment.”

  “Defensible?”

  His grin was all teeth and no amusement. “Yeah. As in a fortress.”

  “Oh. Are you armed?”

  “Of course. Didn’t you pack your pistol?”

  “I did. How did you know I had one?” she asked.

  “Nice girl from rural New Hampshire moves to Arizona. Naturally her daddy buys her a gun. No?”

  She smiled. “It was a high school graduation present. But, yeah, it was a present from my dad.”

  “Bathroom is through that door,” he said. “I’m going to start supper.”

  His bathroom was twice the size of hers. The soaker tub sat beside a window that looked out onto the hillside. The California shutters were closed, but the possibility was there. A glass stall held the biggest showerhead she had ever seen. It was seven feet up and directly overhead.

  She turned in a complete circle admiring the gleaming white fixtures. It was as clean as if it had been polished that morning. Clean and expensive. The lever on the tap was brushed nickel and moved more smoothly than any she had ever used. This place reeked of money.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ten minutes later, Pierce turned from the big gas stove where their steak was sizzling in a huge cast iron pan and smiled at her. “Find everything you need?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “I forgot to tell you that clean towels are behind the door in the bathroom.”

  “I found them. And the water heater.”

  Pierce slid the big Porterhouse steak into the oven in the skillet. “Dinner in twenty minutes,” he said. “You want a beer?”

  “Yes, please. Can I do anything?”

  He set two tall glasses on the counter and put his arms around her. “We’ll lay the table in a minute. Zap the squash in the microwave when the steak’s done. There’s nothing else that needs doing right this second. Let’s just be peaceful for a bit.”

  “When you said you were staying in a cabin, I thought it would be a little place. Much more rustic.” Diana looked around the big room and shook her head. It was full of the sort of simple, rustic furniture that cost a small fortune.

  He chuckled. “Compared to the house I grew up in, this is small. There isn’t much point in miniature rooms for huge people. Everyone in my family is big. Except for Grant.”

  She caught the amusement in his voice and played along. “What about Grant? You forget I’ve seen your brother on TV. He’s huge for a tenor.”

  “Poor little warbler will never see six feet.” Pierce took a sip of his beer and regarded her gurgle of mirth with approval.

  “How can a guy in the Air Force afford to have two homes?” Diana asked. “Even a five-star general doesn’t take home that big a salary.”

  “We have some family money that makes life easier,” Pierce said. “We don’t have to try to live on what a grateful nation pays its military.”

  “Oh. How much is some?”

  Pierce looked thoughtful
but said nothing.

  “I didn’t mean to pry,” she said mortified.

  He picked up her hand and kissed it. “I guess it’s time to come clean.”

  She was momentarily worried that she had attracted another crook. But then she laughed at her own foolishness. Crooks did not deploy. Criminals might like to take risks, but only for personal gain. A family of military heroes — and that glass fronted case of medals adjacent to the dining table sure looked real — was the real deal. You didn’t get major decorations for neglecting your duty and preserving your hide.

  “My great-great-grandfather made a fortune in the California gold rush. One of his sons turned his inheritance into a bigger fortune in the stock market. The other made his own fortune singing — it was the golden age of opera in America.”

  She waited to hear the punch line. “Yes,” she prompted.

  “We’re a lucky family,” he said. “Really lucky. In 1928, my great-grandfather and his brothers decided that the good times were about done. They turned their stocks and bonds into gold bullion which they stashed in their very own armored warehouse.”

  “So they dodged the stock market crash in 1929?”

  “And the Great Depression. Then came the Second World War. My grandfather and his brothers signed up for the Air Force. The life suited our family so well, it has become a tradition. But our careers are buffered by our trust funds.” He shrugged and looked embarrassed.

  “So you’re set, even if the Air Force discharges you?”

  “A man has to do more than clip coupons.” He seemed about to say something else, but the timer interrupted him.

  Well, so much for her daydreams. No independently wealthy family was going to want their blue-eyed boy to marry a fat girl who lived paycheck to paycheck. Money married money. This interlude was doomed to be just an interlude. There was no point in hoping for more. On every count she was not what this guy was expected to take home. She was barely middle class. She was barren. And her ex-husband was a convicted drug dealer. A trifecta of ineligibility.

  * * *

  Chunky Bunny’s car was in the lot. Her lights were out. No sign of that fucking shower of military shit. She was probably huddled in bed alone scared spitless. Hermann sniggered softly from his spot in the weeds beyond the parking lot. He had heard the cops catch the call on the radio in his truck. And heard when they called in to say they were done. They hadn’t spent more than fifteen minutes total. The next time that overfed bitch called 911, they probably wouldn’t come. Or they would take their own sweet time.

  The fucking boyfriend had probably decided his fat whore was more trouble than her fat pussy was worth. She was alone. Tonight would be perfect. Except that she wasn’t scared enough yet. He wanted her so frightened that as soon as he put that pillowcase over her head, she would literally lose her shit. He needed to get back to his vehicle. It was a long drive back to Flagstaff and a superior being needed his beauty sleep.

  But before he melted, he would leave a little farewell present in her car.

  * * *

  He had totally botched it. Pierce had meant to come clean about his phoenix and instead he had blathered on about money. She hadn’t looked impressed — anything but. Now she probably thought he and his entire family were all a bunch of social parasites. A woman whose father had done his tour in Kuwait, before coming home to support his family by the sweat of his brow, wasn’t going to think much of a guy born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

  And that was before he even got around to informing Diana that at will he could become a giant predatory bird — if he wasn’t too much of a fucking coward to take greater phoenix. Or that it was his damned fault that a serial rapist and killer was stalking her. It looked as though a D’Angelo had finally run entirely out of luck.

  Shifting didn’t seem like the kind of thing to bring up during a meal. It felt great to have his mate sitting across from him at his table. She was enjoying her meal and relaxing. It could have been the beer, but he hoped it was because she felt safe in his home. He only hoped it was as secure as he had promised.

  The entire perimeter of the house had pressure-sensitive detectors. He had changed the calibration which was usually set to go off if something over a hundred pounds crossed it. He had a feeling Venom weighed considerably less in snake. Which meant that a curious coyote or even a porcupine might set the sensors screaming.

  Every vent in the house was camouflaged and designed to exclude critters. That had been his mother’s idea. She had wanted the cabin to look like it belonged on the hillside. But she had not wanted to arrive to a place overrun with deer mice or creepy crawlies. Not that they had ever managed to keep spiders and ladybugs out.

  The roof was insulated with succulents. Which kept the house cool and made disguising the HVAC exhausts and machinery a snap. But it could also provide hiding places for a rattlesnake. He thought he would smell Venom if he lurked there — there was a fresh air intake on the roof — but he could not be certain.

  Pierce’s intuition had been on high alert at Diana’s place. It had calmed down a lot here in his own space. But intuition wasn’t foolproof. It could let a guy down. Look how Syria had turned out. He wanted to double-check all the precautionary barriers he had created, but he didn’t know if that was just another indication of his mental instability, or if he might have left something unsecured.

  “I should have driven my car up here,” Diana said. “I wasn’t thinking. You are going to have to drive me into Window Rock in the morning.”

  “You were in no condition to drive,” Pierce said flatly. “You held it together while you looked after Mrs. Benoy, but you were still too shaken for driving. We’ll go into town early enough for you to pick up your car. I have to go to the gym anyway, and I have an appointment with my physical therapist too.”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “Not in the least.” He cleared his throat. “Until we catch this guy. I want you safe.”

  “We?” Her laugh was derisive. “The cops think I’m delusional.”

  “I don’t. I have some friends on the way. We’ll get this creep.” He had meant to reassure her but she looked twice as frightened after his speech.

  “What sort of friends?” she asked.

  “Guys who know how to hunt stalkers,” he told her.

  Diana’s eyes were round and her fork had stopped half-way to her mouth. She returned her food to her plate. “Guys who know how to hunt stalkers?” she repeated slowly.

  “Uncle Sam trains us to hunt villains. Terrorists or stalkers — it’s much the same.”

  “Oh.” She began to eat again. “Useful friends.”

  Pierce had expected shock or anger. But not this calm acceptance. Of course, she didn’t know he had focused Venom’s attention on her. Was it his duty to tell her, or would a confession only serve to terrify her worse?

  Diana put down her knife and fork and smiled at him. “What’s your plan if he follows us here?”

  “The walls of this place are six-foot-thick adobe. The windows are bulletproof glass.”

  “A fortress.”

  “I told you. It’s defensible. He will have to go through me to get to you. But it’s probable that he thinks you’re still in your apartment. After all, there are lights on and your car is there.”

  She stood up. “Then let’s do the dishes.”

  Fate had found him the bravest of women. Too bad her destiny was to marry a fucking coward.

  After the kitchen was clean, Diana booted up her laptop and made a discovery. “He tried to get into this,” she said looking at her prompt. “It says the last three passwords were incorrect. And it’s offering to let me reset.”

  Pierce took it out of her hands and set it on the coffee table. “Son of a bitch.”

  “It’s creepy,” she said.

  “It’s telling,” he returned. “Don’t you see, this is the proof that he wasn’t after stuff, just intelligence. He probably gets off on doing recon and frightening
his victims before he acts.”

  “You’re right. It’s twice as frightening to know the cops think I’m bananas. Next time, I probably wouldn’t even call 911. Or if I did, they wouldn’t be in a rush to come. I’m glad you got me out of there.”

  “Anytime.”

  She picked up her laptop and set it back on her lap. “I’m going to email my mom, if you will give me your Wi-Fi password.”

  “Sure, I’ve got email to read.” And send. Bear One needed to know what they had deduced.

  He had a shipping confirmation in his inbox. He had paid for overnight delivery—for both orders. Of course, in Dry River, that meant driving to the depot in Window Rock. But what good was money if you couldn’t use it to take care of your mate?

  They sat together in companionable silence working on their computers until Diana closed hers down. “Bedtime,” she said decisively.

  He kissed her upturned face. “Give me five minutes to check the windows and doors,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  The latches and locks were all in place. The alarm panel was lit. Every blind and curtain excluded prying eyes. The house was as safe as he could make it. He didn’t even feel his usual uneasiness. Of course, the low level arousal he had been enjoying all evening might be responsible for that. It had been very pleasant indeed to sit beside his mate and smell her body first relax and then warm with desire. And now he was going to enjoy having her in his bed.

  * * *

  If only she had some kind of sexy garment to wear to bed. But what she had was an ancient sleep tee with a picture of a moose on the front. It was sexy only in being so threadbare as to be transparent. Why had she packed this disreputable garment? Because it had been a gift from Mom on some long ago Christmas, and she had always felt warm when she wore it. The bathroom mirror told her that every lump and bump was visible through it. And her breasts did the moose no favors. He looked as if he had developed elephantiasis. Charming. Not.

  She brushed her teeth hastily and was in bed, under the covers when Pierce came into the room. He closed the door and seemed to be deciding whether to lock it. In the end he turned away. “I think we don’t want to be trapped in here,” he said.

 

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