Derik's Bane

by Davidson, MaryJanice

  “Good.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Really, really, really, really sorry. I was sorry before you blew up my balls.”

  “I did not—”

  “It’s just, I couldn’t have this hanging over us anymore. Especially not after what you said, about how tomorrow might be the big day, you know?”

  “So?” she sulked.

  “So, I wanted to tell you.”

  “So, you did.”

  “Yeah, but you promised not to get mad.”

  “I did not.”

  “Okay, well, you got your revenge, right?” He gingerly felt himself. “Oh, boy. I think I’m out of the Sexual Olympics for a while, Sare-Bear.”

  “Serves you right,” she said again, and flopped over on her side, as far away from him as she could get, which wasn’t very far. “Asshole.”

  “Aw, c’mon,” he coaxed. “I said I was sorry. It’s not my fault I wanted to fuck you so bad I was willing to—”

  “You’re not helping your case,” she said grumpily, but when he snuggled contritely behind her, she let him.

  28

  “AH, BOSTON, THE SWEET SMELL OF—SARA, WHAT the hell!”

  She had tripped, and he was too close on her heels, and went sprawling down the steps and over her. She hit the platform with a thump that made him wince and bit her tongue, hard.

  “Oww!” she cried unnecessarily. “I mit my mongue!”

  Derik rolled over, quick as a cat. “You what your what?”

  “My mongue! I mit it!” She rolled it out, crossing her eyes in an attempt to look at it. “Ith it mleeding?”

  “No,” he said, pulling her to her feet and ignoring the curious stares of their fellow passengers.

  “You nint even look!”

  “Sara, if you were bleeding, I’d know it. Now what’s the problem?”

  “The mroblem ith that I nipped over my own two eet an—ow!”

  She’d said “ow” because he had grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and hauled her back up onto the train, brutally shoving passengers out of his way and ducking behind the window.

  “What? What’s wrong? Is it Arthur’s Chosen? They’re waiting for us, aren’t they?” She clawed frantically in her pocket, came up with a Kleenex, dabbed her tongue, checked for blood, then readdressed the situation at hand. “It’s them, isn’t it? Funny how imminent death totally took my mind off my sore tongue. Which still hurts like hell, FYI. It’s the Chosen, isn’t it?”

  “Worse,” he said grimly, peeking out the window. “It’s my Pack leader and his wife.”

  “Really? More werewolves? Oh, that’s so cool. And terrifying. Where?”

  “Get down, idiot.”

  “Idiot? How’d you like another broken testicle?”

  He was ignoring her, peeking out the window. “They’re downwind . . . thank God. But how in the hell did they know we’d be here at this particular train station at this particular . . . Antonia.”

  “I don’t think so,” Sara said, looking up at him from the floor. “From what you told me, it sounded like she was keeping your secret.”

  “How else can you explain it?”

  “Well. There’s me. I mean, my power.”

  “Maybe.” He peeked out the window again. “Is it possible? Would your luck have brought them here? But how come? If Mike sees you, he’ll try to kill you, and Jeannie will back him up. I mean, Mike’s a toughie, but Jeannie’s insane, especially when she’s knocked up. So why would your luck put you in that position?”

  “Are you actually having a conversation with me?” she asked. “Or thinking out loud?”

  “It just doesn’t make sense,” he continued. “The whole point is that we’re trying to avoid my Pack. So what would bring them here now, right before we’re about to go after the bad guys? Why are they here?”

  “Why don’t you ask them?” Sara replied. Then she waved, looking past him. “Hi there.”

  “Don’t kill her!” he screeched before he even turned all the way around.

  “It’s nice to see you, too, Derik,” Michael said, yellow eyes glinting in amusement. And . . . something else. Surprise? No. Shock. They were both shocked, and covering.

  “Uh . . .”

  “This is the part where he says, ‘I can explain’,” Sara said helpfully.

  “I sure as shit hope so,” Jeannie said. She was looking bodaciously gorgeous as usual, with that shoulder-length mess of sun-colored curls, freckled nose, and flinty gaze. Terrifying and beautiful, the perfect mate for his alpha. Right now she was nervously chewing on her lower lip. “Start talking, or I start shooting.”

  Sara was slowly getting to her feet. “Did you guys hear all that? You know, what he was babbling while you were walking up to us? Because I’m kind of curious, too. Not that it’s not nice to meet you. Because it is, I’m sure. But what brings you here?”

  Jeannie and Michael looked at each other, then looked at Sara. “We had to drop off a friend. She doesn’t fly. Then I saw you, so we came over.”

  “That makes perfect sense,” Sara said. Derik was amazed; she wasn’t scared at all. Meanwhile, his adrenal gland had dumped what felt like about six gallons of fight-or-flight into his system. “I can’t imagine werewolves like to fly. Stuck in an iron tube hurtling through space. I mean, it freaks me out to think of it, and I’m not claustrophobic. I don’t think.”

  “Just . . . everybody stay calm,” Derik said.

  “We are calm,” Michael pointed out.

  “Everybody relax, and I can explain everything.”

  “Derik, we’re fine,” Sara said.

  “Just, nobody panic.”

  “What’s the matter with you?” Jeannie asked. “You’re all twitchy and sweaty. You’re usually much more laid back.”

  “Well. You’re armed, which makes me kind of nervous. And, uh, I didn’t—we didn’t—expect to see you here. Today, I mean. At the train station.”

  “We didn’t expect to see you, either,” Jeannie said. “And with a friend.” Blond eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

  Michael stepped close and sniffed Sara. “A good friend,” he said.

  “Quit that,” Sara said, throwing up an elbow. “It creeps me right the hell out.”

  Jeannie cleared her throat. “Please note how I restrained myself from smelling your butt.”

  “For which I will be forever grateful,” Sara giggled. “Seriously, cut it out.” She shoved Michael back, gently enough. “If you want to know something, just ask me.”

  “Are you Morgan Le Fay?”

  “Well, um, yes.”

  “But she’s not evil,” Derik said quickly.

  “She doesn’t smell evil,” Michael agreed. He added, “Evil usually smells a little more clove-like. But what I really want to know—”

  “I want to know why I haven’t gotten a hug,” Jeannie said, spreading her arms wide. Relieved, Derik stepped close for the embrace, and then Jeannie’s face shot over to the left and the entire side of his face was numb.

  “Ow!”

  “That’s for putting my kids and husband in danger while you concentrated on getting laid,” she snapped, tapping the butt of her Glock.

  “Yeah,” Michael said, a familiar look on his face—amusement and disconcertedness. Jeannie had, literally, beaten him to the punch. “What she said.”

  “Hey, working on saving the world here, okay?” he snapped back, rubbing his sore cheek.

  “That’s why I didn’t shoot you.”

  “And what ‘kids’? There’s just Lara, because you’re, like, five minutes pregnant.”

  “Seven weeks.”

  “Congratulations,” Sara said. “Don’t touch him again.”

  Jeannie didn’t even glance at her. At least she had taken her hand off her gun and buttoned her jacket back up, which was always a good sign. “But Derik, I swear to God, if you put my family in jeopardy ever again because you’ve got a personal agenda . . .”

  “Ow!”

  “Yeah,”
Michael added, pointing to Derik’s face. “Um, there’ll be plenty more where that came from.”

  “Don’t touch him again.”

  “Or what, Red?” Jeannie asked, supremely unimpressed.

  “Or I’ll make you eat that Ann Taylor knockoff.”

  Jeannie gasped. “It’s not a knockoff!”

  “Regardless. Stop smacking him around. If anybody gets to hit him, I do.”

  “Knock it off. This doesn’t have anything to do with you, Red, so pipe down and shut the hell up.”

  “How about instead I kick your ass up and down the railroad car?”

  “I don’t know about you,” Michael said to Derik, “but I’m experiencing a fantastic degree of sexual arousal.”

  “I’m too nervous to get hard,” Derik muttered back. “Besides, I had kind of a bad night.” Then, louder: “Now, ladies, ladies . . .”

  “I mean, talk about nerve,” Sara was saying. “Sneaking up on us—”

  “We walked up to you at five o’clock in the afternoon in broad daylight—”

  “And being all annoying and threatening, and all we’re doing is trying to save your ass, and everyone else’s ass, and we get attitude for it—”

  “He’s chasing his dick instead of getting down to business! My kids are supposed to come before his sex life. And—and—”

  “You never mind about his sex life.”

  “I will when it’s putting my family in danger.”

  “Well then,” Sara snapped back, “you’d better shoot me.”

  Jeannie blinked.

  Derik said, “Don’t shoot her.”

  “I’m waaaiting,” Sara sang, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Don’t shoot her,” Michael ordered.

  “Aw, can’t I? She’s so mouthy, it’d be a pure pleasure.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Michael muttered, giving his wife a squeeze.

  “It won’t work, anyway,” Derik said. “Don’t you think I tried to ice her? It’s sort of all tied up in this mess we’re in.”

  “I’m sure I could pull it off,” Jeannie announced.

  “Try it, you dyed blond homicidal gun-toting weirdo.”

  “I do not dye my hair!”

  “Please stop,” Derik begged.

  “Stop,” Michael said, not begging, and Jeannie and Sara both closed their mouths.

  “Thank you,” Derik said, relieved.

  Michael was frowning. “Derik, you think we’re here for a reason? For real? Because we thought we were here dropping a friend off because—because of something else.”

  “Getting to shoot someone,” Jeannie added, “would just be icing on the cake.”

  Sara crossed her eyes at her and stuck out her tongue. Jeannie started tapping the butt of her gun again.

  “Why don’t we go get a drink, get off this train?” Derik suggested, jabbing Sara in the ribs at the same moment Michael jabbed Jeannie. “Talk about it?”

  “Oh, going off and having a drink is your solution for everything,” Jeannie snapped.

  “It makes a pleasant change from me killing you, and my wife shooting your friend,” Michael said.

  “We could do that later,” Sara suggested. “If you get, you know, bored.”

  Jeannie’s forehead smoothed out, and she laughed, taken by surprise. Michael just shook his head, smiling.

  29

  “SO YOU’VE GOT MONEY . . .”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, and you can take our car, we’ll grab a rental for the trip back.”

  “Thanks.”

  “All right then. Good luck.”

  “Mike, what’s bugging you? It’s not me blowing you off.”

  “No?”

  Derik looked over at Jeannie and Sara, who were standing in the doorway of the restaurant, pretending to be polite to each other. Well, it wasn’t surprising. In his experience, strong-willed women usually didn’t get along. And hardly anybody got along with Jeannie. It was the alpha thing—somebody needed to be in charge. It made her perfect for the Pack, but low on girlfriends. “No. I guess it’s pretty bad. I guess you’d better tell me.”

  Michael hesitated, then plunged. “We were really shocked to see you. Because Antonia . . . Antonia is very upset.”

  “Upset like screaming foul names upset? Upset like—”

  Mike didn’t crack a smile. “She said it was too late. She was lying down all morning and then she came to us and said it was too late. That it couldn’t be fixed.”

  “Oh. Well . . . oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But . . . oh.”

  “Yeah. So we were all hanging around the mansion waiting for the world to end—”

  “I bet that was fun.”

  “—and Rosie finally said she couldn’t take it anymore, that if the world was going to end, she might as well head home for it, so we ran her up here to the train station. It was actually a relief to have something to do.”

  Derik didn’t know what to say. It couldn’t be over. They hadn’t even tried to get the bad guys yet. How could it be over? But Antonia was never wrong.

  And now here was his friend, talking about the end of the world like it was a normal everyday thing.

  “So,” Michael continued, “I’m glad we didn’t spend what might be our last day fighting.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Good luck,” he added with a total lack of conviction.

  “Mike,” Derik said, then fell silent for a moment. Then, “It’ll be all right.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  His friend shrugged. Derik still couldn’t get over the weirdness of it all. They should be fighting. That’s what an alpha did when a Pack member didn’t do what he was told—kicked some ass. They should be fighting, and Jeannie should be doing what she did best, which was overreact when her family was in danger, and there should be a brawl right here on Milk Street.

  Hell, when you got right down to it, Derik should have listened to his leader in the first place.

  And he didn’t really believe it was done, did he? That it was too late? It couldn’t be fixed?

  “Look,” Mike was saying—uh oh, he’d better start paying attention—“you’re doing fine so far with all the, uh, ignoring my orders and hooking up with the most dangerous woman on earth—”

  “Thanks.”

  “—but I’ve just got one piece of advice for you.”

  “I’m waiting breathlessly, oh, wonderful Pack leader whose lightest utterance gives my life meaning.”

  “For Christ’s sake,” Michael muttered. “How does she put up with you? Anyway. The advice is this: Stay focused.”

  “Stay focused.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m serious. Keep your eye on the ball.”

  “It’s good that you used a cliché,” Derik replied, “or I might not have understood your meaning.”

  “Just keep it in mind,” his friend said, super-mysteriously, which was annoying, but hey, at least they weren’t fighting to the death, so that was all right.

  “THEY SEEMED NICE,” SARA COMMENTED. “FOR A couple of killer werewolf psychos.”

  “Hey, hey.”

  “He did sic you on me, Derik.”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t know you then.”

  “What a relief,” she said mockingly. “Now I feel so much better. But at least now we know why they were here.”

  Derik looked at her, which was unnerving, because his pupils were unusually large; the rings of his irises were just thin hoops of green. In fact, ever since Michael and Jeannie had left, he’d been twitchy as hell. Which was making her twitchy as hell. “I know why they were here,” he said. “I didn’t know you knew.”

  “It’s obvious. Now we have money, and a car, and you’re not worried about the Pack sniffing up our backtrail. We can focus on the matter at hand, right?”

  “Right,” Derik said. “Focus. That’s good advice. Actually, the reason they we
re here was—oh my God!”

  “What?” She jerked back and looked around wildly. “What’s wrong? It’s the bad guys for real this time, isn’t it? Get ’em!”

  “It’s Rachel Ray! Look!”

  Sara looked. They had been walking past the New England Aquarium and Legal Sea Foods, and she saw the cameras, the techs, the vans, the wires, and the lights; all evidence of a television show being taped. And in the distance, just disappearing into Legal’s, a perfect brunette bob . . .

  “Oh my God!” Derik was rhapsodizing. “I can’t believe it! Look! They must be doing a show on Boston, or seafood. Or seafood restaurants in Boston.” He gripped her arms and shook her like a maraca. “Do you realize Rachel Ray is in that building less than a hundred feet away?”

  “This is so completely the opposite of staying focused,” she informed him.

  Incredibly, he was straightening his hair, which was so short it really never got mussed . . . not even after sex! Which was quite a trick. “Do I look okay?”

  “You look very pretty, Mabel.”

  “God, I wish I had my cookbooks with me! I’d have her sign Thirty Minute Meals Two.” He looked around wildly, as if expecting the book to pop out of nowhere. “Shit! Oh, wait . . . I know! She can sign my shirt.” He tugged his T-shirt out of his jeans and smoothed it.

  “If you take off the shirt, she can sign your nipple.”

  He shot her a withering look. “This is serious business, Sara.”

  It was getting downright impossible not to burst out laughing. “It is?”

  “Look . . .” He was holding her fingers, completely unaware that his grip was crushing. Annoying enhanced werewolf strength . . . arrgghh! “I have to do this. I mean, I have to. I’ve been watching her show ever since she started on the Food Network. Both her shows . . . Thirty Minute Meals and Forty Dollars a Day. She’s just the greatest. And I have to find out. This is my chance!”

  Sara was having a little trouble following the conversation, which she didn’t beat herself up for, because it was pretty bizarre. “Your chance for what?”

  “To find out if she’s Pack. I mean, she must be.

  No ordinary human could be cute and charming and a great cook and do two shows for one network.”