I thanked Franklin for staying up to let me in and he went to bed. Then I wandered around the apartment for a while. It held four bedrooms, had a formal entry, a living room, a media room, a study that was locked, two bathrooms separate from those inside the bedrooms and a kitchen with every convenience imaginable. The master bedroom held a huge bed, a nice library and sitting area plus a large bath with marble everywhere. I think six people could have taken a shower at the same time. No pictures on the nightstand, though. One of the nightstands—the one on the right side of the bed—held a small refrigerator that contained bagged blood. Next to the nightstand and fridge was a window that was floor to ceiling plate-glass. Through that was a view of New York City worth a fortune. The blood in the fridge must have been Merrill's private stash—Franklin said he had some there for me and not to worry about it.
I watched a little more television before checking my email. I had messages from Charles and someone I didn't recognize. Charles's was just a friendly hello; the other was from the werewolf Weldon had found for me. He introduced himself as Paul, first name only, said he was involved in law enforcement in the U.K. and was more than happy to go on this quest for Weldon and me. He said he'd visited the first site where the three children had been found, but too much rain had fallen and water and time had confused any scent that might be picked up. He planned to go to the newer site in the next day or so and check it over, but didn't hold out much hope of finding anything there, either. He was anxious to get to any future sites, however, and promised that he would do his best for both of us.
I sent him a return message, thanking him for his help and then closed my laptop with a sigh. Wishing I had the freedom to go and check things out for myself, I watched television until nearly dawn and then went to my borrowed bed. Just like everything else that Merrill owned, it was the very best and extremely comfortable. Once dawn came, however, I was out like a light and it didn't matter anyway.
Chapter 8
"I don't know how I ended up in the building next door but Tony says there was a hole in the wall and that I was covered up by bricks and debris so that kept the sun from frying me. Again." I was rubbing Greg's shoulders as I told him and Franklin what happened in Los Angeles. We'd cooked and they'd eaten after I woke for the evening. It was Thursday, April fifteenth, and Tony would be in New York to pick me up on Sunday unless there was an emergency.
I'd also caught the news—four more children were missing in Great Britain. I wanted to curse and throw a few things through a wall or two, but Greg and Franklin needed somebody calm around them so I pushed my anger to the background and concentrated on being relaxed and upbeat. After I finished Greg's massage, I leaned against his back and hugged him. "Have I told you I love you?" I kissed his cheek and moved away.
"Not in the last five minutes," Greg smiled.
"Well, I just wanted to make sure," I said.
"Do you play scrabble?" Franklin asked.
"I've been known to play—badly," I said.
"Oh, good. The old guys get the drop on the vamp," Greg laughed.
"All right, just slap the glove across my chops why don't you?" I huffed in mock indignation. Franklin pulled the game out and we played until nearly one in the morning, when Franklin chased Greg off to bed. The part time nurse that Merrill hired came in during the day but didn't have much to do and was long gone before I woke. She'd been warned to stay away from my bedroom. Franklin told her I was a day sleeper so she tiptoed around my bedroom, causing Greg to laugh. I wouldn't wake up if a bomb went off next to me during the day.
I slipped out of the apartment after Franklin and Greg were asleep. I'd never been to New York City when I had time to look around, so I misted where I wanted to go, including down to the subway. That mugger never knew what hit him, I swear. The top of the Empire State Building is windy, especially if you hang around the tip of the antenna. Times Square was impressive, too. I turned back to myself and walked around a little. There are people out and about in New York City no matter what time it is. Someday I wanted to go to Las Vegas, because I've heard the same thing about it. Someday. Maybe.
Misting back to the apartment, I slipped in the same way I'd slipped out but nearly shrieked when I found Griffin sitting at the kitchen island, helping himself to leftovers. My mouth was covered by my hand to keep the scream from escaping as the man sat there, calmly eating reheated lasagna.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," he apologized, a smile lighting his eyes. "I was in the area and I have a key and Merrill's permission to come in any time," he explained. "How are you?"
"I'm just spiffy," I said, still trying to calm myself down and wondering if I should introduce myself. I knew who he was; I'd sent him a Christmas gift basket, after all.
He studied me with eyes that were a greenish-brown—hazel eyes with gold flecks. His hair was also brown, slightly darker than his eyes. He was tall, around six-five or so and looked well built. The thing that bothered me, however, was that he was shielded somehow, just as he'd been the first time I'd seen him. I couldn't really get a scent off him, which prevented me from knowing his age or anything else about him.
"I do it intentionally," he smiled, regarding me from across the island. He'd just read my mind and I had no idea how he'd done that.
"So I should keep all my evil thoughts to myself?" I asked.
"Only if you want to."
"It might be a little uncomfortable, otherwise," I said tartly. "Thank you for helping me out when I was sick that time. I don't think I want to feel like that again."
"I'm surprised you remember it," he was finishing off his lasagna with a glass of wine.
"I only remember the first part of it," I admitted, watching his hands as he wiped them on a napkin. His hands were fine and well-shaped, his fingers long and capable. The question of what he was trembled on my lips but I was afraid to ask. It was one of those moments where you might find out he was an angel or the devil, and either answer might be too much of a shock. He smiled wider and sipped his wine, ducking his head a little. I was definitely going to have to police my thoughts.
"What would you do right now, if you could?" His voice turned serious suddenly and his eyes probed my face. I have no idea why I told him the truth. He was Merrill's friend, not mine, and whatever he knew, Merrill would probably know too.
"I'd be in England right now, tracking down the asshole that's killing those babies," I grumbled. "I think it's a vampire but nobody seems to want to listen to me or thinks I have a sensible thought in my head. Is there anything I can get you? Maybe fix dessert for you or something?" I asked. He set his wineglass down on the island with a sigh.
"No, little girl. But thank you for asking."
"Well, if there's nothing I can do, I think I'll go read for a while," I said. He nodded and sipped the last of his wine as I made my way out of the kitchen. I couldn't get a scent off him but there was one thing I did know—and had known since the first time I'd seen him—he wasn't vampire. He didn't have a scent but his clothing always smelled like sunlight. Go figure.
* * *
"She came back; she went out sightseeing," Griffin informed Merrill after Lissa went to her bedroom.
"I should be there but there are too many things going on here," Merrill sighed. "Did she seem all right emotionally?"
"As well as anyone could be, I suppose."
"She nearly died in that bomb blast—who knows how she managed to escape. And the sad thing is I don't think she would have minded all that much."
"Merrill, I'm not allowed to interfere, you know that."
"I know. But can't you at least tell me not to fuck this up?"
Griffin had known Merrill for fifteen hundred of Merrill's two thousand plus years of existence and wanted to tell him it might already be too late—at least on some things. "You know I can't," he replied instead.
"Thank you for checking on her," Merrill said.
"Any time." Griffin snapped Franklin's cell phone closed, set it down
on the kitchen counter and walked out of the apartment.
* * *
Tony came to pick me up himself Sunday evening. His driver delivered both of us to the airport. What shocked me, however, was where we were going next. "I got an invitation to Winkler's wedding," Tony admitted. "I know you didn't and I also know why. Don't be upset, Lissy. The bitch he's marrying pitched a fit so we're getting you in the only way we know how—as my bodyguard."
My lower lip must have been the indicator that I was now in pout mode; I hadn't heard from Winkler in a while and now I knew why. Kellee was so jealous it was frightening, although I knew she really didn't love Winkler. Kellee loved Kellee. There wasn't much room there for anyone else.
"You'll have to wear the uniform; Dusty, Bill and Arthur will meet us there. Quite a few dignitaries are coming so we'll be extra security." Tony's grey eyes searched mine as the plane lifted off the runway, and he held a thumb and forefinger on my chin. "Lissy, she's pregnant and has Winkler over a barrel. What else can you expect?"
"Nothing. I'm getting used to it," I said, pulling my face away from his hand. We were the only two on the plane aside from the pilots, so Tony sat next to me. He didn't even pull out his laptop, which was a huge shock. While we were in the air, Tony informed me that under normal circumstances we could have stayed with Winkler. Since Kellee was there, we had a hotel room. A suite, actually, with two bedrooms. We reached the Dallas airport around two in the morning and Dusty waited there with a car to drive us to the hotel. Our rooms were all on the same floor and Arthur and Bill were asleep already. I served as night guard for the others after unpacking a little. The wedding was scheduled for the following evening at eight and it was going to be close, getting me there on time.
A church was booked for the wedding, with the reception afterward in a ballroom at one of the nicest hotels in Dallas. I stood at the back of the church with Bill standing not far away. Dusty and Arthur were on the other side and there were plenty of big names in attendance. Not bad for a shotgun wedding. Kellee's parents were all puffed up and I could see right away where she'd gotten some of her attitude. It's a damn good thing Winkler had money; he was going to need it. Davis stood up with Winkler, as did Weldon and two other werewolves I didn't recognize. Kellee had a flower garden of attendants with her; all dressed in the gaudiest multi-colored silk dresses. I might have gagged—if I still could.
I tried to get out of going to the reception but Tony wouldn't allow it. "We need the extra security," he claimed, so off we went. The owner of the local basketball team was there since Winkler was a big fan and a season ticket holder. I never told Winkler the whole time I'd worked for him that I was a San Antonio fan. Therefore, I was there in the ballroom of the hotel while people laughed, ate and drank; all while I watched the door, navigated the perimeter of the room and made sure Tony was safe—possibly from overeating. He seemed to like the veal that was served quite a bit.
"Lissa," Davis was suddenly at my elbow. I'd scented him as he approached.
"Hey, Davis," I said, keeping an eye on the ballroom entrance.
"Winkler asked me to come and get you for a few minutes. He wants to talk to you," Davis said softly.
"I'm supposed to be guarding the overly important guests," I said, not meeting his eyes.
"Tony said it was all right," Davis went on.
"The boss has spoken," I sighed, motioning for Davis to lead the way. We found Winkler pacing inside a small room across the hall from the ballroom. Davis pulled me inside and closed the door.
"Lissa?" Winkler had been raking fingers through his hair—even more than normal. He was stressed. I hadn't seen him since New Mexico and a lot of things had happened since then—to both of us.
"What's going on?" I asked. No man should be asking to see another woman on his wedding day. If Kellee knew, she'd probably be screeching at the top of her lungs right then.
"Lissa, sit down." Winkler was still pacing and I didn't like it. I was getting weird scents off him and knew he was upset and agitated, even without seeing him moving around as he was. He was like a caged wolf and that wasn't comfortable to watch. I also didn't want to sit down but Davis was silently begging me to so I did. There were three chairs there; the kind the hotel provided if you were going to a meeting or something. I sat in one of those.
"Lissa, I managed to put a pre-nup together," Winkler began, "and convinced Kellee to sign it but there was one stipulation that she made before she'd sign the damn thing. Otherwise, she'll get the kids when she walks away and that's not how the werewolves do things. The kids are left for their fathers to raise if the female wants to move on. Kellee already does so I just have to wait this out." Winkler raked fingers through his hair again, his dark eyes troubled and not meeting mine.
I had a sick feeling in my stomach, then. This involved me somehow and I was just waiting for the shoe to drop. Davis sat down next to me and tried to take my hand. I pulled away from him and kept my eyes on Winkler.
"Lissa, I know what you've done for me." Winkler glanced at me for a moment, his dark eyes searching my face before he turned away. "I'd give you anything you want if you asked for it." He stopped and cursed under his breath but I heard his words anyway. "You want money? It's yours. Property? That's yours, too. All you have to do is ask. But Kellee is so fucking jealous, even though I've told her repeatedly that there was never a relationship between you and me that she's forcing me to transfer your Pack membership. I have to turn you over to someone else, Lissa."
I'd never asked to be a member of his Pack to begin with. Kellee sure knew how to hit below the belt, however. She was a bitch in every sense of the word. If she weren't pregnant, I might have been tempted to find her and toss her through a wall.
"What does Weldon say about this?" I asked instead.
"He didn't say much, not in front of Kellee, anyway," Winkler muttered. "He's pissed, though. He's been pissed at me ever since I picked her up to begin with, when she commandeered my attention while I was supposed to be acting as his Second."
"Now he comes to his senses," I looked at Davis and shook my head. "Glen's dead, because of her." I turned back to Winkler. "She's not a werewolf—she's a lapdog." I couldn't keep the contempt out of my voice. "You want me to say I want something?" I asked. "Then put up a memorial to Glen. I've been thinking about this and I've contacted sculptors. I think I want a statue of a sleeping wolf on his grave, Winkler. I've gotten prices from several good ones, actually. Do that and we'll call it even. Which Pack am I going to? Has that been decided?"
"Weldon has already done it. Thomas Williams Jr. is going to send information to you soon. You'll be a member of the Sacramento Pack. His entire family has told Weldon how proud they are to have you as a member."
"That would have been my choice," I rose stiffly. "Goodbye, Winkler. I hope things turn out for you."
"I'll transfer your Pack membership back here as soon as Kellee is gone." I was almost out the door when Winkler said those words to my back. Stiffening, I turned to face him. "Don't bother, Winkler." I whirled and walked out the door.
I was worried my eyes might have been the red that comes when a vampire is angered, so I slipped inside the women's restroom down the hall before going back inside the ballroom. I had to wait nearly ten minutes for things to return to normal before heading back to work. It's not easy concentrating on your job when somebody slaps you in the face.
"Lissa, not all werewolves are like that," Weldon came over to stand beside me.
"Like what?" I didn't look at him; I kept scanning the crowd instead.
"Like Kellee," he said.
"Or Winkler," I added. "How's your grandson?"
Weldon pulled out a photograph and showed me how cute he was. There would never be any babies for me. The man who claimed he wasn't my father had damaged my body badly enough to see to that years ago, and vampires couldn't have babies either. I was happy for Weldon and sad for myself. Kellee had been across the room, gushing with somebody but she wa
s in front of us, now. She might have said something but Weldon put his arm around me, causing her eyes to widen a little so she took off across the room. Her tail would have been tucked between her legs, I think, if she'd been wolf at the time.
"Spoiled bitch," Weldon muttered.
"I hope the kids turn out all right," I said. Weldon snorted.
"What did Winkler want?" Tony asked on the drive to our hotel afterward.
"He was transferring my membership from the Dallas Pack," I said, looking out the heavily tinted windows of the limo. Tony had ties to werewolves; his mother was a werewolf. He knew what that meant better than I did.
"Fucker," Tony growled. "The only time a female werewolf is transferred if it doesn't involve marriage is when the wolf has become a problem somehow for the Packmaster. It's a blemish on their record," he said.
"Thomas Williams Jr. said he was happy to get me," I muttered. "Weldon set it up."
"Then Weldon will take care of it," Tony said. "Was this Winkler's idea?"
"He says Kellee forced the issue."
"Same thing. It happens sometimes if the Alpha female thinks another female in the Pack is getting too much of the Packmaster's attention."
"It wasn't because I wanted or asked for it," I snapped, struggling to keep my anger from resurfacing. "How often do you see your brother?" I asked, changing the subject.
"For the holidays, usually, unless there's something I can't get out of. Lissy, we're flying to Chicago tomorrow to pick up security on a Senator."
"Joy," I said, slumping in my seat a little.
"Lissy, this hasn't been a bed of roses for you, I know. And if I'd known Winkler was going to drop this bomb on you, I wouldn't have made you come. You look tired, baby." He tried to pull me against him. That wasn't the half of it. Right then, I felt weary. It was times like this when I wondered why Merrill had bothered to pull me off the roof to begin with. I could be far away now, in the afterlife if there was one. I wondered briefly if there was a patron saint for vampires. Or a guardian angel, maybe. If so, mine was getting a workout.
Blood Sense (Blood Destiny #3) Page 14
