Deadly Sin (Cassandra Farbanks)

by Sonnet O'Dell

  “It’s a very long story. Keep up and I’ll tell you it.” LeBron padded to catch up to me as I turned, continuing towards the community. I told LeBron everything. Not two realities everything, but the whole not human, no idea who my people are truth. It was kind of nice to share with someone, especially as they couldn’t talk back at that moment. It meant no inane questions. We reached the gate of the community and the guard exited his booth to greet us.

  “If I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes I wouldn’t believe it,” he said smiling. LeBron looked at me and I at him. Then I recalled what I was wearing. It had to look strange, red riding hood with a wolf in tow.

  “It’s been a strange night,” I sighed with a weak smile. “Is there any way you could get a message to Simian at the party and ask him to come home right away?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Simian looked a little panicked as he ran up the street. The seriousness of the sight diminished a little as he still looked like Fred Flintstone. He slowed when he saw me leaning against the railings and the silver wolf sat on the bottom step next to me. He addressed the wolf first.

  “Oh dear, Michael, what happened to you?”

  When silence fell I looked up. Simian’s eyes were on me, as were LeBron’s. Both of them expected me to answer for him.

  “LeBron was antagonized by a co-worker. He lost his temper and shifted. He’s been suspended from active duty,” I replied in my most matter of fact voice. Simian shook his head disapprovingly.

  “I warned you that a high stress environment was going to be bad for you,” said Simian, putting a fatherly hand on LeBron’s head. It was news to me that LeBron had been advised not to return to his job. “You’ve only been shifting for a few moons.” I wrapped the cloak around me tightly.

  “Can we go inside? It’s cold.” They both looked at me. With their shifter temperatures, they didn’t feel the cold like I did. Despite my non-human status, my body temperature was only a point or two above human normal. I can stand heat, not so much cold.

  “Of course,” said Simian, as if caught lacking in hospitality. “Let me just deal with the sitter.” Simian extradited his keys from God knew where he kept them, unlocking the door and heading inside. A couple of minutes later, a teen girl wandered out going straight passed us as if we weren’t there. Simian held the door wide. LeBron sloped up the steps and slipped inside. I followed and closed the door behind me. LeBron flopped his massive wolf form down in front of the fire place like a tired dog, jostling the coffee table. Simian patted my shoulder.

  “I’m going to call Sophie, let her know everything is okay. Then I’ll try to calm him down enough to shift back. Can you make some tea?” I nodded and headed into the kitchen. I was glad to do something. If Simian got him to shift back he’d be naked and I didn’t want to see that.

  I rested against the door, listening to Simian assure Sophie that nothing was wrong with their kids. I noted that the gate guard must have relayed my message with no explanation. This made me feel a little guilty. I de-cloaked, prepared to make tea to sooth frayed nerves.

  Despite my familiarity with the Urquhart kitchen it always struck me that Sophie collected pottery roosters. The clock on the wall, salt and pepper shakers, the tea cozy, and even the tea canister were all rooster themed. It made me smile because you mocked her roosters at your peril.

  The kitchen was perfectly organized, mugs in the cupboard above the kettle and spoons in the drawer below. The canisters along the wall held tea bags and sugar. I filled the kettle at the sink and set it to boiling then went to the fridge to get the milk. Carton in hand, I stopped to look at Jack’s report card held to the fridge by an unhappy looking rooster magnet. When I saw the grades I understood why the rooster was unhappy. A lot of young wolves were inclined to chase their tail academically. Jack was a smart kid. He just had to have his PlayStation Portable surgically removed.

  The kettle boiled and I finished making the tea. I don’t really care for tea, but I’d had coffee at the police station. Another cup and I wouldn’t sleep. I found the tea tray Sophie used for guests and arranged the mugs on it.

  When I entered the living room LeBron was human and mercifully dressed in a pair of old sweats. He had his face in his hands and his whole posture was defeated. I placed his tea in front of him.

  “I didn’t know how you take it,” I said apologetically and turned to hand a mug to Simian. He took it with a nod and I took the arm chair with my mug in hand, the tray against my side. The metal made my ribs warm with residual heat.

  “What am I going to do, Simian? I’m going to lose my job.” Simian took a sip of his tea and put his cup down on the mantel.

  “They can’t fire you for being a lycanthrope.”

  “You don’t know Rourke,” I said scoffing. “They may not put that as the reason in print, but that’s what it will boil down to.” Simian gave me an unfriendly look and I shut my mouth by pressing the rim of my mug between my lips.

  “I’ve fought harder cases. We have some good lawyers on the community pay roll.” Unable to keep my mouth shut for long, I chimed in again.

  “You were going to run into this road block eventually. I mean, how did you expect to get through your next physical without them finding out?” LeBron looked mute with embarrassment. Simian glared at me and mouthed “not helping”. I gave a little shrug. LeBron looked up.

  “No, she’s right. Trying to hide it was bound to come back and bite me in the ass. If Rourke doesn’t out and out fire me, then she’ll want me out of her unit…” He left it unsaid, but I knew he wanted to say, “What unit would willingly take a werewolf that couldn’t keep his shit together”. LeBron clenched his fingers into a fist.

  “I just couldn’t take him ragging on Brie. He came to the wedding. He knows how nice she is.” Simian put his hand on LeBron’s shoulder trying to share some of his own calming energy, I think.

  “Why did you invite them to the wedding?” I asked out of sheer curiosity.

  “I guess I hoped he’d meet the people there and see that we’re not monsters.”

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t have made it open bar then?” I suggested, trying to coax a little smile out of him. I got one, but it was bitter.

  “Yeah, he was drunk by midnight and picked a fight with a shifter friend of Brie’s. Ben got his ass handed to him. He’s been insufferable since then. A collar with a tag that read Mrs. LeBron, cat toys on my desk, the kitty litter was the last straw.” I choked on my tea so disgusted. He really was an ass.

  “Well, maybe now he’ll think twice,” I muttered into my tea. LeBron’s smile was one of genuine pleasure. Simian looked between us confused.

  “Please tell me you didn’t hurt someone,” he pleaded looking down at LeBron who shook his head.

  “Not me.” His eyes darted over to me.

  “You might have, if I hadn’t taken the claws.” This revelation prompted a tiny panic on Simian’s part, which ended with him examining my neck and shoulder. The wound was just pink lines and a little bruising. Another couple of hours and it’d be completely gone. Most of the blood had evaporated under the flames. Even so, Simian had to look closely to see anything.

  “Your healing is most impressive,” he said, allowing me to pull the strap of my dress back into place. “How did this scare Detective Sergeant Hodgeson?”

  “It wasn’t the wound,” said LeBron. “It was after that. Cassandra went like…” He made gestures with his hands trying to describe it, “Living flame. It was the most beautiful and terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. He was howling like a baby when we left.” I shook my head at his relish in retelling it.

  “I’m not proud of what happened. I lost control of myself. I’m just as scared of what I might have done as he was.” LeBron tilted his head as he looked at me. I got the image of a curious puppy.

  “What did Hamilton say to you? It was so soft I couldn’t hear it.”

  “He asked me to stop.”

  “But Rourke had been sh
outing that at you for ten minutes.” I suspected as much. I decided it best to make a joke out of it, rather than show my confusion.

  “Hamilton said please.” Both Simian and LeBron laughed while I stayed silent. I wondered why, when I heard no one else, Hamilton was the one to break through. How was he able to call me back to my senses before I did something I would regret? There was something about him. He hid it very well. Better than anyone I’d met, but he was definitely hiding something.

  The door opening snapped me out of my own thoughts. Sophie and Brie came running in. Brie threw her arms around her husband of only a week and almost made him spill his tea. He put his mug down carefully so he could hug her back. She checked every inch of his exposed flesh for injury.

  “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you.”

  “No baby, I’m fine. Cassandra got my back.”

  Brie looked over her shoulder at me, and I thought she pressed herself possessively closer to LeBron. Her eyes shot daggers at me.

  “I should have known you’d be involved.”

  LeBron took hold of his wife’s arms and held her away from him so that he could see her face.

  “None of what happened was her fault,” he chastised her. “You know how new I am. I lost my temper. She stopped me from getting shot.” Brie seemed pacified by his words but cuddled close into his side. One leg slung over his, the gray cat suit showing off her toned little body.

  “However, we might have to slash our decorating budget as I’m on suspension.”

  “Oh no,” she said teary eyed. At first I thought she was upset about the decorating till she added very quietly, “Are you going to lose your job?” LeBron stroked her hair.

  “I don’t know honey. I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He rested his forehead against hers.

  “We can talk to DJ. Ex-cop should be good enough to get you a security job here.” Brie was looking at his chest so she missed the wince. Security was what cops considered a retirement gig.

  “Or you could come work for me,” I said offering up an alternative. Brie turned her head to glare at me. “Look, Trinket goes off after Christmas and I’m going to have a hard time running the business on my own.”

  “You want to hire my husband as a secretary?” Brie howled, outraged. I put my mug down on the floor waving my hands back and forth. She misunderstood me.

  “No, no. If push comes to shove and Rourke kicks you, you could apply to become a private investigator. Work as my partner. Cover the office during the day. Having a daytime investigator, foot traffic might increase.” Brie looked a little mollified, but it wasn’t hard to tell which idea she preferred. LeBron, however, looked interested.

  “It’s an alternative.” I continued, “I know DJ has been having morale problems since the coup and hiring another bitten Were might cause dissention.”

  “Cassandra has a point,” said Simian backing me up. He knew, too well, the problems. “I’m not saying don’t ask him. Just that it’s good to have options.”

  “When we go back for my things, I’ll pick up the forms if you’ll write me a reference.”

  “I’d be glad to,” I said smiling. “But you might need one from a peer. I recommend Hamilton. He wrote mine.” Brie ran her hands up and down her husband’s arm.

  “Honey, I think it’s time we go home. We’ve taken up enough of Simian and Sophie’s time.” Sophie turned her head back towards us, having been staring up the stairs.

  “Don’t be silly. You and Michael are welcome here for as long as you like. But if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on the children.” Sophie patted them both on the head and went upstairs. Brie stood pulling LeBron up with her. They still planned on leaving, despite the kind words. Simian walked them to the door while I picked up mugs and took them to the kitchen to wash up.

  My hands were immersed in hot, soapy water when Simian came into the kitchen behind me. I knew it was him because of the sound of his footsteps. They were much heavier than Sophie’s and the bare soles slapped along the linoleum.

  “Cassandra, can we talk?”

  “I hate to point out the obvious,” I said looking over my shoulder. Simian’s brow pinched.

  “No sarcasm. It’s too late for sarcasm.”

  “Sarcasm does not have a curfew,” I informed him, putting the last mug on the drainer and reaching for the towel to dry my hands. I turned to face him. Simian had taken one of the stools and was sitting with his fingers pursed. He looked very serious. I slapped the towel down on the marble counter top.

  “What is it?”

  “I want to ask you something and I want a serious answer.” I nodded. “What’s wrong with DJ?” I blinked.

  “I’ll make you a list. It might take me a minute.”

  “Cassandra,” he said exasperated. “Why can’t you give me a serious answer?”

  “I will when you ask me a serious question. We’ve had words about you trying to mess with my love life.” Simian winced slightly.

  “I’m still haunted by the seven voicemails discussing why I should not meddle in your love life, but I still don’t understand why you don’t like him.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like him,” I said with a sigh. “He’s a nice guy, most of the time, and I’m sure he will make some very insecure girl very happy someday.” Simian arched a brow at me. “I’ve done my time in a macho man relationship. I don’t need to be coddled, protected or dominated.”

  “And you think that’s what he will do?”

  “The signs are all there. DJ is a very alpha male personality. On top of that, he’s naturally very territorial. Also, I am not so far gone that I don’t appreciate being treated like a lady. I do not just need to be mounted.”

  “I never suggested,” said Simian getting offended.

  “No but DJ did. ‘We just need to have sex’, his words. Like that’s all it would take. One good hump and I’m his.”

  “Besides she’s in love with another man,” said Sophie, joining us and putting her sons PlayStation Portable on the counter. They exchanged a look.

  “She always knows when he’s playing it. It’s like maternal extrasensory perception, spooky,” he said with a mock shudder. Sophie gave her own little sigh.

  “I remember a time when you could just take the batteries out of things. Now you have to pry the whole thing out of his hands, which is getting harder and harder as he gets older.” She shook her head and then focused her soft but intelligent eyes on me.

  “Have you made your feelings clear to DJ?”

  “I’ve tried!” I said exasperated. “He doesn’t want to listen.”

  “Mmm, men can be stubborn when they’re just regular guys. I remember Simian’s courting.” Simian crossed his arms over his chest, doing his best to look indignant.

  “You still said yes,” he pointed out, huffing. Sophie raised her hand to hide her mouth and whispered, “I got tired of saying no.”

  I snorted a laugh and Simian glared at both of us. Sophie smiled and wrapped her arms around him, cooing in his ear till he melted. I watched them together and felt an ache in my heart.

  “Cassandra, why don’t you just make up with your vampire?” Sophie asked, now sitting in her husband’s lap. Simian grumped. “I know that some people won’t approve, but if he makes you happy. What’s the sense in being apart, whatever your reasons?”

  “Hey,” I said, forcing a smile to my lips. “I have you guys. It’s not like I’m alone.”

  “Then why do you always seem so sad these days. Like something or someone is missing. It obvious how you feel about him.”

  I had to look away from her eyes. Sophie had always been a tad perceptive and it could cut deep.

  “I should be heading home. It’s been a long day.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  For the second time that night I left the Were community and began the short walk home. I was pleased when I reached my building with no interruptions. My phone didn’t ring; I wasn’t accosted by a horny werewolf; no vampires
called my name from the dark; and yet, I was still uneasy. When I took the front steps into my building, my head rang with alarm bells and my skin crawled with that feeling of walking into trouble. Everything looked normal.

  I saw Trinket’s silhouette through the office window. She was in her chair with a book in hand as usual when things were quiet. The rest of the building was dark like it ought to be. If there had been something truly dangerous, life threatening or lurking, my other sight would have snapped on automatically. I could make it snap on manually now, but I really had to concentrate to do it and it took a lot of energy. There was nothing in my apartment building and I chided myself for my paranoia.

  I took the elevator up and mashed my foot against the keypad, when it juddered and the gears groaned at the fourth floor. I pushed all my creepy feelings to the back of my mind. I wanted nothing more than to sleep. I had, what amounted to, an emotional headache that was unfortunately something two Tylenol and a nap couldn’t fix.

  On my walk, I reasoned that the only way to fix my problem with DJ was to fix the one with Aram. I knew that I loved Aram. Aram knew that I loved him. The fact that Sophie knew I loved him pointed out conclusively how stupid staying away from him was. I still thought it was for his own good as I didn’t know what troubles might head my way, but hadn’t he proven I could rely on him? That he was willing to take the risk.

  I pulled the cage open, stepped out and rummaged around my basket for my keys. We could start small. I would call him tomorrow night and arrange a date. We could go to the theater now that my ex wasn’t running it. I would get my laptop out and see what was showing. I hoped it would at least be decent. I didn’t want to start our relationship fresh with a bedroom in close proximity. That would be tempting fate as my libido was a traitorous bitch.