by Ashlyn Chase
“I didn’t break my promise.”
He stared at her as if he had doubts. “When can we have a private conversation? We need one—soon.”
“Not here and not now.”
His big hands touched her arms and rubbed them, surprisingly gently. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, sweetheart. You know that, right?”
Her defenses lowered a bit. “I really don’t know what to think. Look, I didn’t tell Angie about you.”
“Then why is she giving me the cold shoulder?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because I was upset that you brought the crazy lady here. Where’s her husband, anyway?”
“He’s helping the police. See how easy that was? You just open your mouth and tell the truth.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why is he helping the police?”
“He witnessed a crime.”
“Oh.” She thought about pursuing that further, but she really needed to get back to work and she didn’t want to give him time to ask more questions. “Why don’t you call me tomorrow? I don’t have to work until the evening.”
He dropped his hands. “Are you sure you didn’t say anything about me?”
“I didn’t divulge your secret, if that’s what you mean. I just said you had weird friends.”
“They’re only acquaintances.”
She let out a deep breath. “Fine. Now let me get back to work. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“What’s wrong with tonight? I don’t want you assuming things or spreading rumors.”
“I’m already tired. I’d rather not talk until I can give you my full attention.”
His lips thinned. “I’d rather talk tonight.”
She sighed and he finally acquiesced.
“Fine. Call me if you change your mind and want to talk tonight. Otherwise, I’ll call you in the morning. When do you wake up?”
“Depends.”
He stared at the ceiling. “Give me strength.” At that moment, Nick’s cell phone rang. “Wolfensen.” He held up one finger, meaning she should wait. She rested a hand on her hip and huffed.
He turned his back to her. “Damn it! When?”
Whoa. Something must have really upset him. She rarely saw him lose his cool like that.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll get right on it and see what I can find out. Yeah. I’ll call tonight. Meanwhile, keep her inside. Okay, bye.”
Brandee tipped her head. “Bad news?”
“I might as well tell you. You’re probably going to find out anyway. Someone made another grab for your cousin Katie. This time they didn’t get her, though.”
“Oh, my Lindbergh baby! Who’s doing this?”
“That’s what I have to find out.”
“Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Then he leveled his gaze at her. “Yeah, there is. Be there when I call you at ten tomorrow morning. Don’t even think about avoiding me.”
She saluted. “Yes, sir.”
Chapter 18
Angie landed on the couch with a thud and kicked off her shoes. “Is it my imagination, or was today weirder than usual?”
“It was weird,” Brandee answered without hesitation. She flopped onto the lounging part of the sofa and leaned against the fluffiest pillow.
“Good. I mean, I’m glad it’s not my imagination. I think I’ve lived in the city long enough to distinguish between regular weird and really weird. You know?”
“Lots of things seemed odd when I first moved here to go to school. But after a few weeks, nothing surprised me anymore.”
“Yeah, that’s because you went to art school with the freaks.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m just saying it took me a little longer to become shockproof. For instance, today at the bar a grown man had wide, bright yellow streaks in his hair. That would have struck me as bizarre when I was a kid, growing up in the burbs, but all I said to the guy today was, ‘Great hair. Where do you get it done?’”
Brandee chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed him too. Nice-looking guy. So where did he say his stylist was?”
“He didn’t. He said it was natural.”
“Are you kidding me?” Brandee laughed. “Yeah, right. And I’ll bet he can fly too.”
“I don’t know about that, but I took a good look at the roots and didn’t see any. I really want to know where he goes for his color. I like my highlights, but you can tell they’re not natural. Even five minutes after my hairdresser finishes with me, I have dark blond roots.”
“I hope he comes back. Then we can keep an eye on that regrowth. If the roots never show, maybe he’s telling the truth. I’m beginning to believe all kinds of crazy things.”
Angie waved the comment away. “He was the least of today’s weirdness. What was with that woman who talked about vampires and whatnot? First she just hung around without ordering anything, and later she was whining to Sadie. Did Nick ever tell you how he knew her or what mental hospital she escaped from?”
“No. He said they were just acquaintances. Apparently her husband witnessed a crime or something and had to talk to the police. So maybe she was talking about the crime. I didn’t ask Nick the details. I just wanted to end the conversation and get back to work.”
“Yeah, you two had a couple of intense-looking discussions. What were you talking about?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Angie reared back and stared at her. “But you tell me everything!”
“I-I shouldn’t.”
Angie tossed her hands in the air. “Oh, great. Another foul-weather friend.”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems whenever a woman finds a boyfriend, he replaces me as best buddy and confidant. Suddenly the woman has no time for me, she starts keeping secrets—”
“That won’t happen with us.”
“Oh yeah? Then what were you and Nick arguing about?”
“He wanted to know what I said to you, and I said it was private. How hypocritical would I be if I told you about my conversations with him?”
“Not to worry. That’s the best friend’s privilege.”
“I don’t think…oh, heck. I might as well tell you what I can.”
Before she had a chance to open her mouth, the door buzzed.
Angie hopped up. “Who could that be?”
Brandee had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who it was. “Don’t answer it right away. Better yet, let me.”
Angie halted. “Why? Do you think it’s Nick?”
“Yes.” She levered herself up and crawled off the lounger.
Angie shrugged. “Whatever. You can invite him up if you want to. I’m going to my bedroom to read.”
Brandee waited until Angie left the room and the buzzer sounded a second time. She pushed the intercom button and yawned loudly, then she tried to make her voice sound as if she’d just been woken out of a sound sleep. “Who is it?”
“Nick.”
“What do you want?”
“To come up. I have something to tell you about your cousin.”
Shit. If he needed her help with Katie and she turned him away, she’d never forgive herself. She buzzed him in before she could talk herself out of it.
When he knocked on her door, she realized her little sleepy ruse would have been more effective if it was later at night and she was wearing pajamas. Oh well. Too late now. She opened the door and he strode in.
He looked her up and down. “I thought I got you out of bed.”
“No. I fell asleep on the lounger.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Really?”
Crap. We promised to be honest with each other. “No, but I am tired.”
He snorted. “We need to talk.”
�
�If it’s really about Katie, fine. Have a seat.”
“I’ll start with that.”
“Oh, my ulterior motive…I knew it.” She took a seat on the sofa.
Nick eased himself into the armchair. “Look, I have to go to New York for a couple of days. It’s for the case. I thought we could have that other talk before I leave. I want you to have peace of mind.”
That makes sense. “Okay. Go ahead and tell me what you have to say.”
He cleared his throat. “First I need to know what you think you heard and what you believe or disbelieve.”
“Sheesh. I have no idea what I believe anymore. I didn’t think I’d ever believe we had brownies in the bar or that you were a werewolf. But I’ve seen those things with my own eyes. Now I have a question for you.”
“Okay. I suppose that’s only fair.”
She rolled her eyes. “Gee, ya think? Anyway, my question is…if Anthony is a vampire—and I’m not saying I believe that—or if there are any of these other things the crazy lady mentioned, does that mean the employees are in danger?”
“First of all, let’s call them ‘beings’ instead of things. They may not be human beings, but they’re real and they have feelings too. Second, she’s not crazy and her name is Morgaine.”
“Whoa. Back up. You said she’s not crazy? They’re real?”
“Some paranormal beings are real. You’ve already seen that for yourself.”
“Yeah, but I’m not in danger from brownies as long as I ignore them or leave them a treat if I want them to clean the place, right?”
“I don’t know much about brownies. Never met one. But if that’s what Sadie told you, I’d believe her. She knows more about what goes on here than most of us give her credit for.”
“Is she human?”
“Yes. One hundred percent. She’s a good example of how safe you are. If she hangs around as much as she does, the clientele must be perfectly harmless. Right?”
Brandee mulled it over. Sadie had a good little business going there. Would she put herself in danger just to make a few bucks and drink for free? Uh, maybe.
“Look, Nick. I’m more open-minded than most, but come on. I need to know the rest of the staff is safe. Are there any paranormal employees? And if not, don’t they deserve to know the truth and make the choice to work there or not based on this important info?”
Nick took a deep breath. “You know Anthony. He wouldn’t put any of you in danger. Hell, he came looking for you when he thought you were in trouble. He’d stick his neck out for any one of you. I think you’re safer at Boston Uncommon than at a normal bar.”
Her brows knit. “If you say so. So what was that business about Anthony being a vampire? Does he drink blood? Where does he get it?”
“Whoa. Slow down. It’s not my place to talk about Anthony. It’s up to him to answer your questions in whatever way he sees fit.”
She leaned toward him. “In other words, there is something paranormal about him, and you don’t want to tell me what it is.”
“I never said that.”
“Come on, Nick. Honesty, remember?”
“And yet you want your personal business with friends to remain private. Doesn’t that go both ways?”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Maybe I’ll ask him if I can be sure Ruxandra’s not around.”
“This is your lucky day. Ruxandra’s in jail.”
Brandee’s surprise was only overshadowed by her relief. “What did she do?”
“Shoplifting. I can’t talk about the details, mainly because I don’t know any, but I doubt it’ll go to trial.”
Brandee let out a surprised laugh. “Shoplifting? Ruxandra? I knew she was nuts, but why did she have to shoplift? Was she trying to fill her closet with another pair of designer shoes? Maybe she had to add a fur coat to close an empty space?”
Nick rose. “Who knows why she did it—if she did it. Innocent until proven stupid, right?”
“Hmmm…Sometimes I wonder if I’m innocent or stupid.”
He took her hand and helped her up. “You’re neither. You are one amazing, incredible, beautiful woman who I’m lucky to have in my life. I’ll call you from New York.”
“You’ll be careful, right?”
He smiled. “Always. By the way, there’s another thing I forgot to tell you about my unusualness. Is that a word?”
“Oh nuts. What is it?”
“Don’t worry. It’s a good thing. My kind is very hard to kill. We don’t even stay injured for long.”
“Are you saying you’re immortal?”
“We’re not immortal, but we age very slowly.”
“So, that means you must be a lot older than you look.”
“Uh, yeah. You could say that.”
“So, am I dating a guy who could be my father’s age? My grandfather’s?”
“Try your great-grandfather’s. This year I turn one hundred and one.”
“Get out.”
“I’m not quite ready yet…I should at least get a kiss before I go.”
“No, I just meant it as an expression, like ‘get out of town.’”
“I’m about to.”
She rolled her eyes.
He chuckled. “I knew what you meant.” He took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly. When their lips separated, he tucked her head under his chin. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“When I get back, we’ll go to the museum.”
She grinned. “Really? You’d go with me?”
“Of course. You deserve a treat after today. I’m sorry ‘the crazy lady,’ as you called her, upset you. She really was in the right place—although I can’t tell you about her either.”
“Well, if you put it that way, maybe you can buy me lunch too.”
“Definitely.”
She tipped up her chin and he kissed her again. “I’ll see you in a couple days,” he said and left.
As soon as the door closed, a pale-looking Angie peered around the corner. “Is he gone?”
Startled, Brandee jumped. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard some…things.”
Uh-oh. “What things?”
“Things that will keep me from falling asleep—ever again.”
“Ange. You’d better come over here and sit down.”
Angie moved hesitantly, sat on the sofa, and folded her hands in her lap.
“What did you hear exactly?” Brandee asked.
“Something about Anthony being a vampire, brownies cleaning the bar, Ruxandra shoplifting, and your boyfriend being a werewolf.”
Brandee flopped onto the sofa next to her and blew out a deep breath. “So, basically the whole conversation.”
“Yeah.”
“How could you hear all of that from your bedroom?”
“I was on my way to the kitchen for a drink. You asked if Anthony was a vampire, and I remembered you said the crazy lady was talking about vampires, so—”
“So you stopped right there and listened to every word.”
“Brandee, how could I not? You wanted to know if we were in danger, so why wouldn’t I?”
Brandee covered Angie’s hands with hers. “Did you hear the part about how we’re safer at Boston Uncommon than at a normal bar?”
Angie withdrew her hand and began biting her nails.
“Stop that. You’ve been doing really well not biting your nails. Don’t start now. You’re almost ready for a manicure.”
“Why would I care about a manicure if I’m about to die?”
Brandee leaned back and studied her friend. Angie’s face reminded her of a child who had had a nightmare and needed to be assured there were no monsters under her bed. If only Angie were a child, Brandee could make up an a
ntimonster spray.
“We’re not about to die. How long have we worked there? A year? If something bad was going to happen, wouldn’t it have happened by now?”
Angie shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe Anthony was getting his blood from Ruxandra, but now that she’s out of the picture…”
“I need to talk to Anthony.”
Angie put her hand on Brandee’s knee. “Don’t bother. If he wanted us to know, he would have told us. And if he doesn’t want us to know, wouldn’t he just lie?”
“When has Anthony ever lied?”
“I don’t know, but come on. If you were a vampire, wouldn’t you lie about it?”
“I’m not even sure there are such things as vampires. Like I said, I need to talk to him before I assume anything. Do you believe they exist?”
“I saw a documentary about people who adopt the lifestyle. I’ve never seen Anthony during the day—ever. Claudia is always in charge when we open. Do you think he sleeps in a coffin?”
Brandee laughed. “Are you kidding me? You’ve been watching too many movies.”
“Hey, some of those people in the documentary did.”
“Well, so what if he does? It’s none of our business where he sleeps—or with whom, right? I thought you were as open-minded and tolerant as I was.”
“Was?”
“Am,” Brandee corrected. “I am.”
“I guess you must be, if your boyfriend is a werewolf. By the way, where did you get that purple bruise on your shoulder?”
Brandee immediately yanked up her blouse’s collar closer to her neck. “It’s nothing.”
Angie crossed her arms. “Then let me see it.”
“No.”
“If it’s really nothing, why won’t you let me see it?”
Brandee had to think fast. How could she deflect the conversation without outright lying? “It’s my business what kind of tattoo I get, isn’t it? Besides, you’re one to talk. You have a tattoo.”
“Yeah, it’s a butterfly at the bottom of my back. No one sees it.”
“Some people call that a tramp stamp, you know.”
Angie gasped. “Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Are you calling me a tramp?”
