by J N Duncan
“Nothing a shot or two of tequila wouldn’t fix,” Jackie muttered and stepped inside. “I’m fine, thanks. Just show me the damn room.”
“Go through the entry and down the hall. Second door on your left.”
Jackie made an effort to avoid limping as she proceeded across his house, but gave in after several steps and continued with the limp. Did she really have to prove herself to him? No. It didn’t fucking matter what he thought. She just needed to get a little energy back, and then they could get back out and find that bastard Drake. They had to. Some little eight-year-old’s life was depending on her to figure things out before it was too late.
The room had more of the same craftsman-style furnishings, a double bed with a heavy head- and footboard, a large leather-covered chair in a corner, and a bookshelf filled with more Old West knickknacks. The man could open a tourist shop with all the shit he had around his house. Jackie tossed her bag on the chair, kicked off her shoes, and sat down heavily on the down comforter covering the bed. The instantaneous relief made her groan. Nick showed up at that precise moment, a bottle of something in his hand.
He had a vague smile on his face. “You still think two hours?”
“I’m setting the alarm on my phone,” she snapped back. “I’ll be up. Take my fucking phone, and I’ll kill you.”
Nick put two shot glasses down on the nightstand next to the bed and poured from a bottle of Patron tequila. “This bed will spit you back out when it’s good and ready. I’m guessing four hours minimum. Here,” he said, handing her a shot. “It’ll take the edge off.”
“You know your tequila at least.”
He nodded, raising his shot to her. “I’ve had my share. Here’s to reaching the ends we seek and to better days.”
Odd thing to toast, but Jackie could argue with neither. “Thanks.”
Nick poured one more shot in her glass and headed for the door. “See you when I see you, Jackie. Get some rest.” He closed the door behind him.
Jackie stripped down to panties and a T-shirt and pulled back the comforter, revealing burgundy flannel sheets smelling faintly of lilacs. Not exactly the smell she would have associated with Nick Anderson. More of an oak-and-leather kind of guy, she thought, setting the alarm on her cell phone for two hours. Five thirty PM. They could be out of there by six, hit a Burger King on the way in, and be downtown, good to go, by seven.
Slipping beneath the sheets, Jackie moaned with pleasure at the softness enveloping her body. It felt like the bed was wrapping itself around her. “Goddamn,” she said and reached over to turn up the volume on her phone. She downed the other shot of tequila and sank back into the feather pillow with a heavy sigh. Jackie slept before the warmth from the shot had faded from her throat.
She woke with a gasp in near darkness, the sounds of someone thrashing in water fading quickly from her foggy brain. She swore and reached over to pick up the phone, its screen glowing faintly in the dark. It read 9:37 PM.
“Son of a bitch!” She sat up and swung her legs out of the bed, feeling a bit light-headed. Leaning up to reach the lamp on the nightstand, Jackie put pressure on her injured knee. For a moment she thought something hard tore itself right off the bone. “Oh, goddamn.” An instant later Jackie was on the floor, all her weight shifted to the other side of her body.
The door swung open, and for a horrifying moment Jackie thought Nick was going to rush up to her, her T-shirt hiked up to her breasts, sprawled on the floor. The far slighter and curvier silhouette revealed Shelby.
“Jackie! What happened? You okay?” In one smooth motion, she reached down and scooped Jackie up, depositing her on the bed as if she weighed little more than a rag doll. Her hands were hot against Jackie’s skin, and her blue eyes literally were glowing in the dark. “Christ, look at that knee.”
Jackie could only shrug. “You have an ACE bandage out here anywhere? I really need to get back downtown.”
She smiled and patted Jackie on the cheek. “Sweetie, you shouldn’t be going anywhere, though I’m admittedly curious about how Nick got you to agree to come out here.”
She felt heat flush to her cheeks. “I was ordered out here! I had no desire to be out here in his bed.”
Shelby laughed. “His bed is down the hall, Jackie. Don’t worry. You won’t be offending me with anything you might do out here. Now lay back for a sec. Let me see what I can do.”
Jackie slumped back in the bed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… I didn’t need to come out here for a fucking nap.”
“You need to sleep the rest of the night, Jackie,” Shelby said, her fingers brushing with light strokes over and around the injured knee. “Things are getting done. The entire FBI is out combing the city for this guy, and so are half the police. Not that they will find him, but I, on the other hand, am better situated to sniff out the crotchety old fuck.”
Something warm and syrupy began to crawl through her knee. The relief was instant. Jackie stared. “What did you just do to me?”
Shelby grinned. “Don’t worry. It’s just a little vampire voodoo. Against my better judgment, but it should have you up and moving in pretty short order.”
“You drank more blood, didn’t you?”
“You can tell, huh?” She chuckled and winked at Jackie. “I wish Nick would hurry the hell up. I want to get back out on the street.”
“You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”
The grin faded for a moment. “I don’t kill for blood, Jackie. Ever.”
“Good. I don’t have to arrest you then.”
The front door thumped shut before Shelby could answer her. “About fucking time.” She stood up and pointed a finger at Jackie, her eyes electric and pulsing. “Get more rest, hon. You’ll be more help tomorrow at full strength instead of half-assing your way around tonight.”
Jackie struggled to sit up but found herself wanting more and more to just curl up and go back to sleep in the soft, downy warmth of the bed. “Damnit, Shelby. Don’t do that.”
Her mouth curled up on one side, a sly, sardonic grin. “It makes me powerful, Jackie. It’s like someone turned the volume up on everything, inside and out, and it’s a good thing I’m leaving, because you smell good enough to eat, and I’m really hungry.” She giggled and skipped out the door as Nick came in, stepping sideways to avoid running into her. “How’s Cyn doing?” Shelby asked as she passed him.
Nick looked at Jackie for a moment before glancing back down the hall at Shelby. “Sleeping. She’s drugged up pretty good at the moment. I did manage to get out of her that she was trying to contact Reg but found someone else, apparently, who didn’t want her snooping around. Laurel tried to rescue her. I think something’s happened to Reg on the other side.”
“Damn. I hope not,” Shelby said. “Reg is a good guy. I’ll call you later, babe. I’m hitting the streets.”
The front door slammed shut before Nick could reply. Jackie threw the cover back over her legs before he could look at her. She had the feeling he would see whatever it was Shelby had done to her leg. The warm puddle had begun to expand, crawling like warm goo beneath her skin.
“I tried to wake you at six,” he said but did not sound terribly apologetic. “You didn’t even move, so I figured you would be good until I got back from seeing Cyn. Shelby kept an eye on things.”
“Yeah, I see that,” Jackie replied. How had Nick ever dealt with a woman like that? Of course, he would have been drinking blood back then, too. “It’s important I get back downtown though. I’m the lead on this case.”
Nick’s mouth creased into a frown. “Can I make a blunt observation without you deciding to bury your fist in my face?”
“I wouldn’t… What? Fine, I won’t.”
“I think you are quite aware of the fact that you are not capable to lead this case right now.” His mouth worked in silence for a moment, pondering the next words. Jackie decided to keep the “so what” reply to herself until he finished. “Your partner and best frie
nd is dead, and every second you are away from this case is a betrayal to her memory. I know how this works, Jackie. I’ve been there myself. If you want to help her out the most, stay here and rest and get some strength back.”
Jackie stewed on the words. What could she say to that? The bastard was right. Still, it infuriated her that he could assume how she felt about things. “So I’d guess a hundred forty-four years is a long time to be betraying your wife?” She knew the instant she said it that it was uncalled for-spiteful even. The hard, fathomless look from Nick just made it worse. “Sorry. I’m being a bitch. Really. I didn’t mean that.”
His look softened. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve had about as shitty a couple days as one can have. You deserve to feel bitchy, and I could have easily kept my trap shut. It’s not my place to suggest you do anything.”
“Thanks, but I should still get back. I can give Gamble a call and have him put my apartment on hourly watch.”
Nick ignored her. “It’s a bit late, but I’m going to make dinner, and you probably haven’t eaten anything since McD’s this morning. I’ll make some coffee, and the shower is the next door down the hall on the left.”
Jackie crossed her arms over her chest. She could just as easily grab a burger on the way in. “You aren’t taking me back in, are you?”
“It’s safer if you stay, Jackie. Drake won’t come here.”
“You honestly think he’ll come after me?”
“If you interfere with his plans, he’ll kill you.”
“And you don’t want that on your guilty little conscience, do you?”
He gave her a half smile. “Not really, no. So go shower. I’ll have food and caffeine by the time you get out.” He turned and walked out.
“Stubborn asshole!” she called after him, but he said nothing.
She could just call a cab and tell him to go fuck himself, but real food and coffee sounded wonderful, as did the shower, and Jackie felt a little nervous about going anywhere until the weird, vampire-voodoo thing was done doing whatever it was doing.
The shower turned out to be the size of a walk-in closet with its own steamer built in. Ten minutes of that, and Jackie had nearly turned into a puddle on the slate tile floor. The throbbing headache had reduced itself to a background pulse, her breath caught on only the deepest inhalation, and when she stood up from the stool, she could actually put pressure on the knee. Everything from the waist down felt thick and tingly. Jackie found it oddly pleasant but wondered how it would be if that syrupy warmth kept on going until it filled her head. All she could do was trust Shelby knew what she was doing.
“Because I smell good enough to eat,” Jackie mumbled into the towel outside the shower as she dried herself. She laughed at the absurdity of it. Could the world be any more fucked up?
Clean, warm, and dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, Jackie felt nearly human again as her sock-covered feet padded silently into the kitchen. An Italian opera played quietly through hidden speakers, and Nick Anderson stood there in an apron and an oven mitt, shoveling some kind of garlic, cheesy-covered pasta into bowls on the counter. Quart-sized coffee cups sat next to them, steaming away with the black oil of the gods.
“Thought you might’ve fallen asleep in there,” he said.
“That’s a cute look for you. Are you generally so domestic?” Be better without the clothes though. Jackie blinked away the thought. God, let’s not go there, thank you very much.
He picked up a basket of garlic bread off the stove top and set it between the plates. “I find cooking is a good stress reliever. Have a seat. Please.”
Jackie moved around the counter to the bar stools and sat down. The kitchen, she noticed, looked like it had not ever been used. Clean as you go. Man like that would be handy to have around. She picked up the coffee cup and sipped, finding it overwhelmingly strong, with hints of citrus and something almost flowery. “Wow. Where did you get this coffee? It’s amazing.”
“Starbucks, I believe,” he said. “I like it.”
She could feel the caffeine flowing through her veins. “You know, you make coffee stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.” Christ! Why am I being so damn chatty? The ass basically forced me to stay here, and now I’m acting like it’s a fucking date. She poked her fork at the pasta, spearing prosciutto, rotini, and what looked to be roasted pepper, all held together by a white sauce that turned out to be heavily laced with gorgonzola. Her mouth was watering before it even managed to get in her mouth.
Jackie groaned with delight, her stomach rumbling for more, and Nick cracked a smile and sat down next to her. “To your liking, I take it? It’s my favorite pasta dish.”
She nodded, her mouth already full with the second bite. Not only did it taste like heaven, but every texture caressed her tongue-the slippery softness of the pasta, the smoothness of the gorgonzola cheese-making everything else she had ever eaten pale by comparison. Men who cook like this do not need to look or smell good, and this guy is all of the above. It’s almost better than sex. “It’s not fair to cook food this good.”
Nick cracked a smile, or at least half a one, revealing the faint crinkle of lines around his eyes and laugh lines around his mouth. Jackie could picture him, if he actually would ever provide the whole thing, with a wide, toothy smile, full of amusement.
“Easy to make, too.” He paused, chewing a mouthful of bread, pointing at her with his fork. “You okay? You’re looking a little flush.”
Does freaky vampire goo in the veins count? The warm tide had pushed up into her chest now, and she did indeed feel like she was running a low temp, but Jackie shook her head. “Maybe a little, but this is actually the best I’ve felt since… a couple days ago.” Fuck, I can’t even say it. Laurel died! Laurel died! Jackie pulled the coffee cup to her lips to hide her annoyance.
“It gets easier,” he said, reading her thoughts. “It never goes away though.”
“I don’t want it to get easier,” she snapped. “I just want her back.”
Nick nodded. “Yeah. I wish they were all back.”
The words hit Jackie, and she realized again how old Nick really was. “You can’t blame yourself for all their deaths you know. You didn’t kill them.”
He gave her a wistful smile and took a big drink from his coffee mug. “Does it matter?”
“No point in needlessly torturing yourself, is there?”
“Exactly.” He smiled and picked up their bowls. “Still hungry?”
Jackie stared at him, her own annoyance quickly transferred. “Bastard. You set me up for that.”
“Maybe, but true nonetheless. It’s an easy thing to do when you’re in the business of finding justice. Ice cream?” He turned on the sink and began to wash the dishes.
Ice cream. If it’s anything double chocolate, I might have to actually be nice to him. “I have a shrink to play mind games with, thank you very much. How about we change the conversation to something less case oriented, and what flavor?”
Nick opened the freezer, reaching for a pint-size container. “Oh, you mean like real people do?” He gave her a snarky half smile. “Why, Ms. Rutledge, that would almost be like we were acquaintances or friends or something.” Pulling a spoon out of a drawer, Nick handed both to Jackie. “I keep this around for Shelby. She calls it ‘woman’s best friend.’”
Triple chocolate. Damn him. “You just keep this around to lure women in, I’ll bet.” Jackie took a bite and closed her eyes. Oh, man! Now this is like eating sex. Shelby’s words reverberated in her head once again, but along with them came the image of Nick standing naked in the dark at the edge of his pond. She nearly gagged on the spoon. What is wrong with me? That blow to the head has fucked with my brain.
“Shelby is the only woman I keep food around for.”
Only woman. He made it sound like she was the only woman, period. “So what is the deal with you and Shelby anyway?”
Nick set two wineglasses on the counter and spoke as he looked through an assortment o
f wines in an under-counter rack. “Deal? Are we asking personal questions now?”
“Does it matter?”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. Shelby and I are friends, former lovers, almost-married business partners. Our situation makes us unique, I’d guess you could say. Mostly, we’re just friends who are there for each other because nobody else understands-or would want to, for that matter.” He poured a white wine into each of the glasses and slid one over to her. “I owe her a lot and probably would have given up on this whole charade a long time ago, if not for her.”
Jackie agreed. She had seen enough of Shelby to get that impression. The woman defined stability and a kick-ass sensibility. “I like her. She’s a strong woman.”
“Too much at times,” he said. “Much like you.”
She snorted, nearly spitting ice cream back into the carton. “You comparing me and Shelby? There’s a laugh.”
“And why not? You are both tenacious and headstrong, independent, a bit self-righteous, and fiercely devoted to those you care about.”
Nothing witty came to mind for her to come back with. Her face abruptly felt warmer. “You know, you don’t have to be nice to me. You’re protecting the agent who thought you were a murderer a couple days ago. I haven’t been very nice to you at all.”
“I’ve got nothing against you, Jackie, other than wishing you had decided to stay out of things. Besides, life has been kicking you around enough lately.”
God, where’s the tequila when you want it? I’m usually drunk off my ass with most guys at this point. Hell, we aren’t usually in the kitchen unless it’s naked on the floor. “Okay, so now what? I should probably give Gamble a call and see what’s up.”
“He’ll call if anything develops. I think he’s afraid of what you’d do to him if he didn’t.” He laughed softly. “Generally, though, vampires watch TV, read books, or maybe go for swims like everyone else around here.”
Jackie had no need to look to know her face had turned a shade redder. I just got that damn image out of my head, too. “You always such an ass?”
