by Rob Preece
* * * *
Fred and Simon had holed up in one of the many abandoned buildings close to the zone border. Fred's restaurant had only been opened for a couple of days, but it was packed when Danielle arrived.
"You look like hell,” Simon told her. He was working as maitre-d, dressed in a tux, but greeted her with a hug and smile that took a bit of the sting out of his words.
"It's good to see you too."
"We owe you and Carl a lot,” Simon said. “He lent us the money to set this place up and sent a bunch of his friends and workers to eat here."
"Yeah. He's a goddamn saint,” she said. Still, she was surprised to learn what Carl had done. How could he be so reasonable about some things and irrational about others?
"Uh-oh. Love problems?” Simon asked.
Danielle resisted the urge to strangle the man. This had nothing to do with love. It had everything to do with Carl's stubborn refusal to accept that the future could be better.
"Can a person get anything to eat around here?” she demanded.
Simon led her back to a table near the kitchen where Fred quickly joined her.
She knew she was right and Carl wrong and seeing Simon and Fred becoming successful proved it. But the empty feeling inside of her said that being right didn't matter. At her emotional core, she didn't want to be right—she wanted to be right with Carl, and for Carl to want to build a new world with her
After dinner, she went into the kitchen and helped with the dishes.
The blur, she learned, didn't really help with the washing. Unfortunately, learning that cost Fred and Simon half a dozen plates.
Fred finally took the drying rag from her hands and set her down in the corner. “We can't afford your help, honey. So why don't you let us help you?"
She couldn't help bristling. “I don't need any help."
"We all need help,” Simon said. He had wrapped an apron over his tux and was sweeping up the shattered remains of the last plate she'd destroyed.
Simon pretended to be talking to Fred. “Boy, that Carl sure looked worried when we came in without Danielle, didn't he?"
"Almost like a man in love,” Fred answered.
"So what?” It took an effort not to shout, but Danielle managed. Barely. That ‘L’ word got to her in a way she would have thought was impossible.
* * * *
The next morning Fred fed Danielle a stack of pancakes liberally smeared with butter and whipped cream, together with coffee so thick she was surprised that her spoon didn't stand up in it.
Simon sat down next to her and aimed a fork at her plate.
"Hey.” She blurred and pushed it away. “Get your own pancakes."
"You think Fred would feed me like this?"
"If you asked him nicely."
"I'd rather mooch off of you. You sure you want to eat all of those?"
She looked down at the heaping plate of pancakes and then at Simon's hungry eyes.
"I'm real sure."
He sighed. “It was worth a try, anyway. And speaking of trying, have you thought any more about what we talked about last night?"
Danielle nodded. “I've thought about it, but I don't see it doing any good."
"Don't give up on him, Danielle. Carl's a good man, and he loves you."
He might love a Danielle, she realized. Unfortunately, his was a magical Danielle who existed only in his mind.
"It isn't about that,” she explained. “Carl's caught up in old pain—pain that I spent my life battling and only now am starting to get away from. Do you think I can afford to go back to that, Simon?"
Simon considered, then shrugged. “I'm on your side, Danny. But I hope you'll give him a chance."
She reached over and kissed him gently on the cheek. “I'm glad I didn't kill you that first day, Simon."
He grinned. “Me too."
Danielle had to blow her nose and dry her eyes when she left Fred's restaurant, but she sucked it up and went looking for Carl. This wasn't about them, it was about making the zone right and she couldn't run from that fight.
Chapter 17
Danielle returned to her combination house and dojo and threw her few things into a workout bag. When she met with him again, she wanted to be on her own, independent.
Everything she owned filled half of a small workout bag. Once she dumped her warder uniforms, she'd be down to the dress she'd bought for her first date with Carl, some underwear, and a spare karate gi. She needed to get out more often.
"Going somewhere?” The deep male voice, indisputably Carl, caught her completely by surprise.
"Hi, Carl. Yeah, I figured I'd move out. It isn't like you need a herder any more."
She tried not to look at him, but failed miserably. He looked younger than he had when she had first met him, more fit and darkened by the sun. But his commanding presence was as strong as ever. One of his hands was wrapped in a bandage and she started to reach out to caress his wound, then snatched back her hand before she touched him. She should know better than to play with fire.
"You were always more than a herder, you know. I wanted you from the minute I first saw you."
"Yeah. Well, you got me. So I guess that means you can move on with your life."
He shook his head slowly. “I'm having trouble with that."
"Am I supposed to feel guilty or something?” She knew she was being snippy but didn't know how to stop it without throwing herself into his arms.
"No thanks,” he said. “But we have a lot of things to talk about and running away isn't going to make that any easier."
"I'm not running,” she lied. “I'm fighting."
"If you say so."
Well, she couldn't just leave that like the elephant in the corner. “What sort of things were you wanting to talk about?"
He ticked off on the fingers of his good hand. “What we do about the zone; what we do about the informants you uncovered when you were at warder headquarters; and what we do about us."
"There is no us,” she protested.
Carl looked unhappy. “Maybe not now, but I'm hoping that there can be."
He looked so sincere that she wanted to kiss him. Or maybe kick him. Her feelings were genuinely conflicted and Carl's strange idea of a conversation was only making it worse.
"Carl, we disagree about everything. Want me to list a few? First, I want to let normals into the zone. You want to keep them out. Second, I've decided not to turn over the names of informants I found. You want to go after them. Third, you need a magical mate, but I'm normal. And fourth, you think sex with the local ex-warder is kinky. I'm looking for something a little more, well, settled."
"Really?"
She narrowed her eyes. “Really what?"
"Are those really the things that are keeping us apart?"
"Do you really want a longer list?"
He shook his head. “Let's see if we can deal with that list first."
"Deal how?"
"If you think the zone would be secure with the informants running around, I'm willing to give them a warning and a chance. It isn't as if they were breaking any laws."
Danielle looked at him. She wanted to be angry. Anger would give her the strength to continue to fight him. But she couldn't work up a good anger when he was being so agreeable. “Someone will have to make sure that the warders are controlled in the future. That they don't send their agents into town to riot, loot, and cause problems,” she said.
Carl nodded. “We need a real police force. One designed to protect people rather than attack anyone. “Snori the Troll has agreed to head up that effort, building from what he's done with the defense militia. It turns out that he was a police lieutenant in Houston in the old days before the return."
A surge of disappointment surprised Danielle. She was twenty-five and barely out of warder school. Of course no one was going to consider her for that type of position.
"I thought about you,” Carl said, as if reading her mind.
She mus
t have jumped.
"I didn't have to read your mind, you were an obvious candidate. But you don't have the experience in the zone that Snori has, nor the experience with old-fashioned policing. Besides—"
"Besides, I'm a normal,” she finished Carl's sentence for him.
"Besides, I thought you'd want something more active than a desk job,” he said.
Right. He still thought she was magical—and wouldn't get a clue.
"Then there's the matter of letting normals into the zone,” he continued.
"I'm not going to give up on this,” she told him. “After you left yesterday, I thought about this a lot,” he explained. “And I talked to some of the guys. I understand your position, but you have to understand that this is the first time the magical have tried to do anything together as a team. If we were overrun by normals, we might end up being pushed into a corner of the small corner we're already in. Maybe it's just fear, but it's real and it isn't just me."
Danielle tried, but she couldn't hold back her laughter. “Overrun? You're kidding. Think about what you said. How many normals do you think will flock to the zone?"
"Maybe only a few at first, but once we get things going, there could be thousands, or more."
"Once you get things going, you will have a process in place to make sure that nobody is allowed to segregate the city, to impose special rules on one group."
Carl nodded slowly, digesting her words, incorporating her thoughts into his world-view. “You know, you're right. So, we can let them in. Maybe with limits at first."
She couldn't believe it. Carl was going along, giving up his prejudices and fears.
She stuffed the last of her underwear into her workout bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Great, Carl. It sounds like you are taking some sensible steps. You've got my vote in the next election. Now, would you get out of my way?"
She tried to step around him, but his muscular body blocked the doorway to her room. She considered trying to duck between his legs but didn't want to give him that satisfaction.
"Are you going to let me move?"
Carl shook his head. “We have one more topic on our list."
"Don't be stupid. Humans react to danger in certain, predictable ways. Given what we've been through over the past couple of months, it's no wonder that we fell into bed together. But don't try to make it into something that it isn't."
He shook his head slowly. “You've still got your betrayal issues, don't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about.” Just because her stepfather and then her mentor had turned on her didn't make her crazy.
"I think you do. Right now, I'm not sure if you're afraid of men, or afraid of the magical, or both. I hear your fear talking. But you're bigger than your fear, Danielle. You don't have to let it cripple you."
She wouldn't admit, even to herself, that his shot had hit home. “All right, I'm listening."
He brushed his good hand against her shoulder, tracing it down her arm. “I hope you are, Danielle, because I'm not very good at this stuff. When it comes to science or business, I've always felt confident, in control. But ever since I met you, I've been out of control."
"You want me to tie you up or something?"
He laughed. “Sounds like fun, but later. But what I'm saying is that I like it. You've opened up possibilities for me that I never had before. You—” his voice trailed off for a moment. “Ah, hell."
He pulled her to him, his lips descending toward hers.
In her mind, Danielle turned into his motion, blocking his grab and then flipped him over her hip. She'd done it a thousand times in the dojo. But this time, her muscles didn't cooperate. In fact, when his lips touched hers, every muscle in her body liquefied. She would have collapsed to the floor if Carl's strong body hadn't kept both of them erect.
Her universe centered around the kiss, the sensation of Carl's body against her own, his chest hard against her own softer curves, his male hardness pressing against her abdomen, and his lips, tongue, battling for control of her soul.
Time passed. Danielle had no idea how long. Until Carl finally pulled back.
"I didn't mean to do that,” he admitted.
"It was a little powerful."
"What I mean is, I don't want to use sex to persuade you. I want you to want to be with me, to share my life and to let me share yours. I know that being with me has torn apart everything you've lived for, but I can't think it's all bad. We exposed the lies that held you, together. I know that it hurt. I hope part of it is wonderful, too."
Danielle needed to get away from him. With his strong arms around her, she could feel protected and safe, but she couldn't think rationally. Any movement, though, seemed completely impossible.
"Carl, listen because this is important. The blur is something we learn, not something I got from a magical infection. I'm not a magical. And I'm not interested in becoming magical."
Carl shrugged. “So?"
"So, I'm a normal. One of the people you were just saying everyone is nervous about. If you hang around with me, you'll never be elected Mayor or President or Pack Leader. I'm poison for you. You've got to let go of me."
His deep laughter warmed her heart. “First, you're a hero. Everyone knows that your work gave us the week we needed to prepare for the invasion and nobody cares whether you are normal or magical. Second, I love you for being Danielle, not for your talents or lack of talent. And third, who wants to be elected?"
Danielle was still stuck on number two. “Can you say that again?"
"That I don't want to be elected?"
"No. Before that."
He stopped, thought, then smiled. “I told you I wasn't much good at the emotional stuff. Of course I love you, Danielle. Being with you makes me complete."
"Oh.” Her voice came out small and weak. Not at all the powerful statement she wanted to make. “So what do you think we should do about it?"
"I was hoping we might get away for a couple of weeks of rest and recuperation and, well, sex."
Her heart sank to her shoes. “A couple of weeks?"
"We would have to come back to the real world eventually. We've got a city to build. That'll take longer. Like forever."
"Forever sounds good."
"What do you say we start those couple of weeks right now?"
Carl swung Danielle up in his arms, almost hiding a wince when his wounded hand brushed against her back, and headed downstairs. Toward his bedroom.
"Are you going to tell me what happened to your hand?"
He shook his head. “I've been doing too much talking. For the next couple of hours, I'm going to be no talk, all action."
His lips pressed to hers making sure that she wouldn't say anything either. Not that she had anything that needed saying more than she needed to love, and make love, to this wonderful man.
Epilogue
Blood splattered over the narrow alley behind the shiny new high-rise that redefined the zone's skyline.
Danielle knelt briefly, judging the vampire's speed and direction by the shape of the splatter.
"He's heading north. And he can't be more than a minute ahead."
The wolf's howl was her only answer, but she'd been with Carl long enough now to recognize the meaning. He was on the hunt.
"I'll go ahead. You herd him to me,” she ordered.
If a wolf could mutter, Carl would have, but she didn't give him the chance to morph back into human form. Instead, she blurred and left him.
Using the tricks she'd learned from Sergeant Mansfield, Danielle controlled the blur, using it when she moved, switching it off momentarily when she needed to stop.
She should have let Carl take the point. In wolf form, his alpha-male instincts demanded it. And his hearing, far better than a mere human's, would offer more advantages than Danielle's sharp sight. Still, she'd been confined too much lately. She'd desperately needed to get out. When the alarm had come in, she had used her seniority in the zone police force to
demand it.
Carl's howl sent eerie shivers down her spine. She hesitated to think what they would do to the vampire they were hunting.
Even her unenhanced hearing could pick up the abrupt stumble as the vampire ground to a halt, then plunged forward—straight for her.
"Dallas Zone Police.” She stepped out in front of the runner. “You're under arrest."
The vampire practically ran into her, back-peddled, then collided with three more vampires.
So much for modern surveillance equipment. The camera had only seen one of these punks.
"Rush her,” one of the vampires suggested.
"You idiot, it's Supervisor Goodman."
Carl's howl sounded close now.
She had to hand it to the young vampires. That howl would have frozen her. Instead, it galvanized them into motion.
The four spread around her looking for an opening.
Danielle let her hands begin to make the slow circles that she and Carl had worked into their martial arts repertoire. She couldn't help the smile plastered to her lips. She hadn't had this much fun in, well a long time. Not that she wasn't happy to be a new mother, but she'd practically bitten off Snori's head when he'd ordered her to take a month's desk duty when she'd come back from the hospital.
"Now,” the oldest of the vampires shouted. He feinted toward Danielle's face but the strike was so obvious that Danielle didn't even bother parrying. Instead, she caught one of the others with a punch to the stomach and then the one behind her with a back kick to the head.
The sharp snick of a switchblade told her that the remaining two vampires wouldn't give up easily.
The leader moved toward her, intent on her movement, looking for a chance to slice, to draw blood, to claim a victory out of defeat.
Carl's jaws clamped on his knife hand just as the vampire launched himself forward.
Two hundred pounds of wolf bore the vampire to the ground and sent the blade spinning into the darkness.
Danielle turned and looked at the fourth vampire. “I'll hold one hand behind my back,” she offered.
He fell to his knees. “Don't tell my parents. They'll kill me."
Once, Danielle might have sympathized. As a new parent herself, she thought that this punk's parents should have known a lot more about what their son was up to.
