My Furry Valentine

by Karen Ranney

  “My wife isn’t dead,” he said, tracing a line of condensation down his bottle of beer.

  For a second my heart stopped.

  Okay, I may have billed myself as a rebel, but there were certain rules and regulations I obeyed. I didn’t run red lights or stop signs. I didn’t drive after I had a drink or two. I didn’t have a relationship with a married man.

  My first response was anger, but I suppose that was to be expected. I hadn’t gotten over my irritation with Mark for past misdeeds, so just add this one to the list. But this one was worse than the others. How dare he make me complicit in his adultery? That was worse than cowardly. It was slimy.

  I put the rest of my sandwich down on the plate and stared at it for a moment. I didn't know if I wanted to cry, retreat to my bedroom, shout, or stand up and push Mark out the door. I was flummoxed, confused, and poised on a precipice. The problem was I didn't know which emotion I was teetering toward: grief or rage.

  I was still debating that when Mark started talking again.

  “Or my ex-wife, I should say," he said. "When I look for her, I just tell people that she's my wife. It’s easier.”

  I didn't look at him. I couldn't yet. The “ex” part made a big difference in what I was feeling, but he still needed to tell me more.

  “Did you divorce her?” I asked.

  Divorce was a big deal in the Furry culture. A man had to go in front of the clan council and ask for permission. Had Mark done that? Why had he overturned his marriage?

  “No,” he said. “I didn’t. She divorced me.”

  That was unusual. A woman had to be a fool to ask for a divorce. Doing so immediately placed her outside the clan’s protection. Unless, she’d already found someone to protect her. I was curious, but there were some questions I couldn’t ask.

  "Why are you looking for her?”

  “Because she's disappeared," he said. "Off the face of the earth if you believe a few people. Into the bowels of hell if you believe others.”

  I finally looked at him. He was staring at the bottle of beer like it was an oracle of wisdom. Good luck rubbing it and getting an answer for anything.

  I didn't know whether to prompt him for more information or to simply remain silent. Maybe the latter would've been better advice, but there were times when I didn't pay any attention to myself.

  "That's why you're in San Antonio, isn't it?" I asked. "You aren't doing blood studies of vampires at all, are you?”

  His eyes met mine. "That wasn't a lie," he said. "I do that. But I'm also looking for Margo.”

  I had the feeling that the curtain was being raised slowly, an inch at a time. I might as well go ahead and pull it all the way up on my side.

  "I felt something for you the very first moment I saw you,” I confessed. "Maybe it was lust. Maybe it was just interest. I don't know. But every moment in your presence it gets a little stronger. Every time you disappear it breaks my heart and I’m tired of being in pain. So, you either tell me the whole truth or you go away, Mark. Your choice.”

  He didn't say anything for a moment. When he did speak, his voice was lower, the tone solemn, almost as if he were reciting a vow.

  “I didn't want to get involved, either, Torrance. But I find that I am. I don't want to leave you, but I have an obligation to try to find Cassie’s mother. To attempt to save her, if I can. I didn't want to involve you, for your own safety, but it might be too late for that.”

  Oh goody, another danger.

  I sat back in my chair, grabbed his beer bottle and finished it. Okay, I was ready.

  "Spill.”

  Do I have the gift of gab or what?

  Mark stood, went to the refrigerator, and grabbed two more beers. He opened them, then returned to the table, putting one down on my placemat and holding the other. He didn’t sit. Instead, he went to stand at the sink, opening the curtains to stare out at the dark yard.

  “She got involved with a vampire,” he said.

  I turned to look at his back. He knew, as well as I did, that interspecies canoodling was off limits for Furries. It just wasn’t done. A Were could be banished for that kind of behavior and had been, rare as it was. In fact, I didn’t know of any female Weres who’d been guilty of consorting with vampires. Margo would be the first.

  What kind of idiot was the woman, to divorce Mark and then hang around with vampires?

  A piece of the puzzle fell into place for me. San Antonio was known as a center of vampire operations. I think it was one of their hubs, kind of like the Celtic Clan being headquartered here.

  "You think she followed him to San Antonio," I said.

  That probably meant that Margo’s lover was an important vampire. That only made things more complicated. Not that anything had been simple in my life for quite a while.

  Just think, if I hadn't decided to come home, look at all the excitement I would have missed.

  I shook my head at myself and returned to the problem at hand.

  "She either followed him or he brought her here.”

  "Was your daughter really threatened? Was that true?"

  He turned to face me, his smile wry. "Oh that's true." He saluted me with his beer and then took a sip. “I’ve taken steps to protect her, however.”

  I really wanted to ask what he’d done, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t tell me — for my protection, of course.

  “Was your wife banished before or after your divorce?" I asked.

  “After,” he said.

  I understood the political pressures on Mark a little better now. Of course his brothers were looking to oust him as alpha of the family, if not the clan. First, his ex-wife had taken up with a vampire and then she was banished. Furries were funny about assigning responsibility. An alpha who couldn’t control his family — and ex-wives were still considered family — was not respected. Therefore, his ex-wife’s actions were two stains on Mark’s honor. Nothing he could say or do would eliminate those.

  Secondly, he’d made a decision to become Pranic and somehow they’d found out. That would be a reason right there, without the other stuff.

  He hadn't made his situation any easier by leaving his clan territory and coming here. Rebellion was probably fomenting in his absence. Unless he had a great many clans members remaining loyal to him, Mark would probably be toppled any day.

  Would he care?

  Another question occurred to me. "Did you become Pranic because of her?”

  He returned to the table and sat again, placing the beer bottle down on the placemat.

  “I’d already won the lottery by then," he said. "I was trying to decide whether or not to go through with it when Margo disappeared. I think it was probably a contributing factor, but not the whole reason.”

  "So, all along you've been telling me the truth, just not the whole truth, so help you, God.”

  His smile was more amused this time.

  “If I’ve omitted anything, Torrance, it was to protect you.”

  "God save me from people who want to protect me," I said. "I think that's what Austin claimed before he nearly drained me of all my blood. Just tell me the truth. If I need any help, I'll ask for it."

  His smile deepened. "Okay, then you should watch your back. I've been asking questions and making some people nervous.”

  "People? Or vampires?”

  "People of the vampire persuasion," he said, taking another sip of his beer.

  I was so tempted to tell him what my father had said, that we Boyds were exempt from being bothered by vampires. Did my immunity, such as it was, carry over to any family I might have in the future? In other words, when I married, would my husband be protected as well?

  I got this image of Mark as a superhero, with VH – Vampire Hunter — embroidered on a lycra t-shirt. Maybe he'd be dressed in red tights with a black cape and a red mask. He'd be armed with an axe, ready to lop off a few heads.

  I mentally skidded to a stop and looked at him. "You can't take off their heads.”

/>   He looked at me as if I’d just lost mine.

  “I’m a doctor, Torrance. I have no intention of killing anyone, even a vampire. I just want to save Margo.”

  "From what? She can’t be turned into a vampire.”

  “And you know this how?”

  I just stared at him. I didn't know it for certain. It was one of those immutable laws that I’d been raised to believe. A Furry could not become any other kind of paranormal creature. Yet both Mark and I were exceptions to that rule. We both had vampire and witch blood coursing through our veins. Who was to say that Margo couldn't become a vampire?

  I could only shake my head.

  Vampires weren’t allowed to turn people. The act of transformation had been forbidden for years. A human had to have a specific reason, and mostly related to health, for wanting to become a vampire. Not only did it have to be okayed by a human medical doctor, but the Vampire Council needed to approve it.

  But to transform a Furry? Were there any laws against that? If there were, I didn’t know about them.

  “Why would a Furry want to become a vampire?”

  “Maybe it isn’t a choice,” he said.

  “Why would a vampire want to turn a Furry?”

  "Perhaps to acquire the ability to breed," he said. "Or perhaps they want to use our ability to transform in some fashion, even to altering their existing DNA. Maybe the first Were/Vampire would be a hybrid.”

  “Is that what your study is all about, combining vampire DNA with other paranormal beings?”

  Did my father know about such a study? Or that it was happening in San Antonio?

  Mark didn’t answer me and I suddenly didn’t care. I was exhausted. I didn't know if it was from the effects of the full moon or being awash with so many emotions or all of the thoughts cascading through my head. Maybe all three. I glanced at the clock on the wall, unsurprised that it was two-thirty. It felt like the pre-dawn hours.

  I stood, but before I could grab the dishes, Mark beat me to it and put them in the dishwasher. I poured what was left of my beer out in the sink and watched as he did the same.

  I didn't want him to leave, because I felt more secure with him in the house. Doesn't that make me sound weak and silly?

  I’d heard about makeup sex and how great it was supposed to be, but I couldn’t separate my emotions from my body that well. I was still annoyed and hurt and until I got over those feelings I wasn’t playing slap the salami with Mark.

  "Can I borrow a sofa in one of your parlors?”

  It would serve him right if I put him in the Sun Parlor and my grandmother the ottoman started speaking to him.

  "No, but you can stay in the George Gervin room tonight. It's across the hall," I said.

  Maybe I would leave my door open, not as an invitation, but just to know that he was there.

  Was that sad or what?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Well, that was a hell of a way to wake up

  I wish I could say that I slept like a baby with Mark in the house. The fact was, my night — or what was left of it — was miserable. I kept having these mini-nightmares.

  I saw a Furry with fangs being staked in the sun, screaming as she transformed to her wolf self and then disappeared beneath the flames. Another dream had me being crowned Queen of the Boyds. I had a vampire as my lackey and was fussing at him because he couldn't attend me at noon.

  “But, your Majesty, I am but a lowly vampire and cannot be abroad at noon lest I fry.”

  I waved my scepter at him, conking him on the head. "You think that’s a good enough reason for not showing loyalty to your liege? Off with your head!”

  That's how it went the whole night. I woke once because I heard a voice. I smiled when I realized it was Mark talking to one of the dogs.

  “No, you can’t share the bed with me. Get down.”

  I'll bet it was Pepper, but before I could figure out which one it was, I’d fallen asleep again.

  I woke at seven, which was later than normal, half expecting that Mark would be gone.

  He wasn't. Instead, he was in the kitchen with the Brood, talking to them as if they were long lost friends or fraternity brothers with the exception of Cherry Pip — the only female in the bunch. She was now leaning against his leg looking up at him adoringly.

  Mark must smell like bacon.

  He saw me in the doorway, looked up and smiled.

  "I'm moving in," he said.

  Well, that was a hell of a way to wake up.

  “What?"

  I moved in the direction of the Keurig, halfway by touch. I'm the first person to tell you that I need a little while to wake up. And then a little coffee. Right now I was pretty close to being all the way alert, given what Mark had just said, but in all honesty I didn’t know how to respond to it.

  "Whatever will Danielle say?” I said. "You didn't mean with her, right?" I couldn’t imagine anything worse. “By the way, does she know about the whole vampire thing?”

  "A little," he said.

  I rolled my eyes and didn't care if he saw.

  "In other words, you haven't told her anything. Or you patted her on the head and told her that she didn't have to worry about anything. You would take care of all of it. Have I got that right?”

  "No," he said, still smiling at me. "You don't have it right. I told her about the whole thing, including the danger. What she doesn’t know is that I suspect that vampires are experimenting, not only on other paranormal beings, but on humans.”

  I greeted the Brood, scratched heads, made maternal sounds, anything but respond to this new information that he hadn’t shared last night.

  “So, she won’t be moving in?” I asked. I finally straightened, made myself a cup of coffee and went to join him at the table.

  “No.”

  As a hostess, I sucked. I hadn’t asked if he was hungry or if he’d like coffee, but since he had an empty cup in front of him I decided he was a grownup and could fend for himself.

  “Did you know that Dan has a foundation that does nothing but investigate human disappearances?”

  “Marcie’s Dan?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Evidently, he has a sister who hasn’t been seen in years. He’s always suspected she was abducted by vampires but hasn’t been able to prove it.”

  “Why didn’t I know that? And why do I feel like everyone in the world is more clued in than I am?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I’ll be back later with my stuff,” he said.

  “I have a Council meeting tonight.” Damn, I’d forgotten until just this minute.

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  I wasn’t that much of a wuss. However, I wasn’t all that eager to be driving after dark by myself, Boyd or not.

  I shook my head. “That’s not necessary, but thank you.”

  Now about moving in with me. My lips wouldn’t move. Nor would the brain. I concentrated on my coffee for a few moments.

  “You don't have to move in with me, either," I finally said. "I'm safe here," I added, which was just about as close as I could come to revealing the specialness of being a Boyd.

  He just smiled and said, "I'm moving in, Torrance. Not for protection.”

  I wish he hadn't worded it quite that way. That left me with having to ask the question. Then why are you moving in? Did I really want to hear the answer?

  Because I adore you and don't want to live without you.

  There, that was my entire problem wrapped up in one sentence.

  It could just as easily be the opposite.

  Because you’re a pain in my neck, Torrance, and this way at least you’ll stop calling me.

  I blurted out: “My father is having a meeting of all his families.” Really, I hadn’t planned on divulging that information, but I’m a coward. I was not prepared for a whole long emotional scene right at the moment. Especially since I would be the one being emotional.

  He raised one eyebrow and looked at me. I don't k
now if he was surprised at my revelation or my obvious reluctance to discuss his plans.

  “My father has a concubine in Houston," I said. "And one in Dallas. For the first time ever, he's inviting all the families to San Antonio. One big happy family.”

  He didn't say anything which was very diplomatic of him.

  My father wasn’t the first alpha to have multiple concubines. The regrettable fact was that in our culture, concubines were not out of the ordinary. If an alpha could afford to keep his original family and that of his concubine, then no one thought anything of it. At least in the past. Times seemed to be changing, however. There were fewer and fewer arrangements like that. I wasn't certain if it was because of the economic times or because a few Were women were making their wishes and feelings known. Not everybody was as docile and compliant as my mother.

  "Why?"

  “Beats the hell out of me,” I said. “I guess he wants to show how egalitarian he can be. He has other children." I looked over at him. "Isn't it funny that I don't know how many? We've never talked about it before. And now he wants everybody to get to know everybody else.”

  "It could be that he wants to announce something of importance." His tone was measured, that of a doctor giving a patient bad news.

  I looked at him in surprise. "You mean, like he's terminal?" I hadn’t thought about that. My father was a larger than life persona. I couldn't imagine him not being there, if not in the forefront of my life then occupying some space in it. His absence would create a vacuum and it was the first time I’d acknowledged that fact.

  My mind wouldn't accept it. I just couldn't go there. Yet I could envision him doing something that grandiose. He'd wait until everybody was comfy. Then he'd go to the head of the room, look out over the assembled throng, and proceed to shock everyone with his announcement.

  "Are you going?" he asked.

  It was a little spooky how well Mark was getting to know me.

  “I told him I wasn’t, but I don't see how I can avoid it. I hope you're wrong, though. I hope it’s not bad news.”

  "It doesn't have to be bad news," he said. "Just something important. Maybe he's decided to expand his law firm. Or maybe he has other sons and they’re coming into the practice.”