"Of course I will. If I find I have the time, I will either come to you or bring you to me as quickly as possible."
"Okay, honey, that sounds good," I said.
"Cara mia, ti amo troppo," Gavin said, and hung up. I must have blinked a couple of times because Winkler was watching me closely.
"You don't know what he said, do you?" he asked ungraciously. I was glad at that moment that I couldn't blush.
"No. I wish he'd translate sometimes, unless he's cursing. That he can keep to himself."
"When did he curse the last time?" Winkler lifted an eyebrow.
"When somebody messed up my outfit," I said, hanging my head a little so Winkler wouldn't see my grimace. "He threw me in the shower and scrubbed me twice, while cursing in at least three languages." Weldon snickered at my explanation. I wasn't about to mention the René fiasco. That would involve even more explanation, and I'm sure Wlodek wouldn't approve.
"Someone messed up your outfit?" The Packmaster's wife, Jewel, said across the table.
"Oh, yeah," I elbowed Winkler. Not as hard as I'd like but hard enough.
"You got scrubbed twice?" Winkler was grinning hugely. Obviously, I needed to be harsher with my elbow.
"And shampooed twice. And then wrapped in a towel while more cursing was going on. He's not jealous or anything."
"How did you get engaged to him anyway? Honestly, Lissa, that's the last thing I expected from you." Winkler emptied the scotch the waiter brought out.
"Well, that makes two of us," I muttered. "Winkler, do you know how many females of my kind there are? Do you?"
"No. Do you?" He was grinning again.
"Sixteen," I said. Winkler almost choked.
"Do you need the Heimlich Maneuver?" I asked sweetly. Kelvin perked right up at that. It might have been a chance to show off his medical skills, but then again, maybe not. Winkler straightened up.
"Are you telling me that they were going to auction you off to the highest bidder?" Weldon was buttering a roll from the basket the waiter set down in front of him.
"In a way," I said. "Gavin was one of the top three and out of those three, well, the Russian guy scared the bejeezus out of me, same with the Frenchman, for different reasons. Gavin's was the third offer."
"You don't love him?" Jewel was sympathetic.
"No, that's the trouble. I do, but all it takes is a couple of near-deaths and one insane bout of jealousy and he wants to hover."
"Is he handsome?" she asked curiously.
"He is," Weldon supplied for me. "He was here, earlier in the year. When he was called back to Europe, he took Lissa with him."
"We don't want to discuss that," I said. I got all riled up every time I thought about that. "He's growing his hair back," I added.
"How did he lose it?" Winkler's eyes were dancing.
"Um, a rogue with a flame thrower," I said. "We were worried he wouldn't make it for a while."
"And there I thought you might have been responsible. I did notice he looked almost shaved," Weldon said, smiling slightly. He and Winkler hadn't spoken to Gavin when they'd come to handle Tate Briggs. I couldn't blame them; Gavin held them under compulsion while he was in the U.S.
"Enough about me," I said. "Jewel, how do you like being the wife of the man in charge?"
"I don't see him as often as I'd like," she put an arm through his. Theirs was obviously a love match, one way or the other. "But I'm proud of him, too," she looked up at him; he smiled down at her.
Weldon got into the conversation then and I was thankful for that. He asked how the finances of the Pack were. The Packmaster who'd gotten killed with Lester Briggs back in the spring had been siphoning off funds that the Pack paid in for emergencies and such.
"We're rebuilding, Grand Master," James Naylor replied. "I have the books and the bank statements ready for your inspection."
"I'll take a look tomorrow evening," Weldon nodded. I was beginning to be hopeful that tomorrow night wouldn't turn out like the last one.
It didn't. Everything went smoothly. The guards did their job and were well behaved, several of the wives got together to supply the meal and I could tell they were all pitching in to replace the money the previous Packmaster had stolen. Weldon and Winkler both enjoyed the home-cooked food. Kelvin ate with them; clearly, he could eat just as much as any other werewolf I'd ever met.
Kelvin. It was hard to tell about him, at times. He never talked much—at least not with me. I also wondered why Winkler had taken all three executions in Des Moines rather than allowing Kelvin to take at least one of them. Oh, well. Not my business.
We made it to Jamestown, Pennsylvania, and Houlton, Maine, before we had to fly back to Dallas for Thanksgiving. We had three towns in West Virginia to visit after that and the first full moon in December fell on the third one, Sugar Grove, which bordered the Shenandoah Mountains. That's where the local Pack was scheduled to run and Weldon, Winkler and Kelvin would be running with them.
We started the trip to Dallas in the afternoon while it was still daylight, so I was packed into the plane inside my favorite bag. The sun set after a while and Winkler pulled me out so I wouldn't wake up zipped inside the thing. That just terrified me for some reason, although I could punch or rip my way out easily enough. Merrill also called; I had voicemail from him as soon as we landed in Dallas. I called him back; he was in New York so the time difference wasn't that bad.
"Franklin and I decided to pack up and come here through the New Year," he said. I asked him if Franklin was well. Franklin always said he was in his emails but then he was one of those people who'd say that if he was on his deathbed, I think.
"Franklin is very well and will be making dinner for himself and Greg on Thanksgiving," Merrill informed me. "I have checked your credit card charges, Lissa."
"Really? Has someone been using my card? What did you find?" I knew I hadn't used it for anything; there'd been no opportunity.
"That's just it, there isn't anything," he said.
"And you're complaining?"
"I expect you to buy something for yourself, now and then," he told me gently.
"All right, I'll go out and buy a bus," I said.
"See that you do," he chuckled.
We talked for a bit longer before hanging up. "Who was that?" Winkler asked. We'd been picked up at the airport by a werewolf I didn't know and were on our way to Winkler's mansion, which sat on a tract of land between Denton and Dallas.
"My surrogate sire," I said, stuffing the phone inside my small purse.
"The black haired one?" Weldon asked. He'd seen Merrill during Tate's execution.
"Yes. That's Merrill."
"Why didn't you take him?" Winkler asked out of curiosity.
"Because he's not interested," I replied. "He already has a woman on the hook. I don't rate next to that."
"Lissa, you'd rate next to anybody," Winkler tried to nuzzle my neck. I had to push him away. Weldon commandeered the front passenger seat so Winkler, Kelvin and I got the back seat of the van while our luggage was piled in the cargo area. My bag was filled with dirty clothes, so I was hoping to get my laundry washed while I was at Winkler's place. Driving through the gate to Winkler's mansion almost felt like coming home and Winkler offered a grin and a hug as we pulled in.
"I'll get the turkey on as soon as I get up tomorrow," I told Winkler as we unloaded luggage from the van. "Eat a late lunch; I'll have dinner ready around nine or ten. I'll see if I can do pies tonight."
Pies were what I did, along with my laundry. Winkler wouldn't let me stay in the guesthouse this time, so I got a huge bedroom inside the house. Whitney and Sam were there as well, but they'd already gone to bed. I baked all night and did other little prep things like chopping onion and celery and putting it in baggies, ready to add to recipes. I was thankful that there was a double oven in the kitchen; it saved a lot of time.
The turkey went into the oven as soon as I woke on Thanksgiving Day. Whitney and Sam came in to hug me and
Davis gave me a huge kiss, shocking me a little. Kelvin was most likely shocked too—he'd witnessed it. He and the others lounged around in the kitchen when things started smelling good. Whitney helped set the table; there was a beautiful linen tablecloth laid down with napkins, silver and china that was extremely expensive. It was all getting hand-washed afterward.
Weldon carved up the turkey for everyone and the werewolves stuffed themselves on turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes and giblet gravy, green bean casserole, a broccoli rice casserole in case you didn't do green beans, corn on the cob, yams, fresh rolls, pumpkin, pecan, apple and chocolate pies. This was the way you did Thanksgiving where I came from. Daryl and Kathy Jo had arrived shortly before the meal was served and she was happy as could be, even if she was five months pregnant.
"I can't believe a vampire still cooks," Kelvin said. He'd been drinking a little and his words were slurring. Davis kept pouring out wine for everybody except Kathy Jo, who was having soda. I had a glass of wine with all of them, although I couldn't taste it.
"I still have fond memories of what it tasted like," I sipped my wine. "So, nowadays it gives me pleasure to know someone else is enjoying it."
Whitney, Kathy Joe and Davis helped clean the kitchen. I gave Davis an extra hug for being the only guy who made the effort. He grinned at me. Believe me; I was ready for sunrise to come when it did.
Chapter 8
"Here he goes," Winkler said. He, Weldon and Davis watched the monitor hooked up to the hidden security camera inside Lissa's bedroom. Kelvin had stolen inside after telling everyone he was going to the convenience store two blocks away for a few personal items.
"What the fuck is he—oh no," Weldon didn't want to see this. Kelvin was undressing Lissa, who was completely unconscious and had no way of knowing what was being done to her. Kelvin removed the speculum from his bag first, did a quick pelvic exam, took specimens, screwed lids on tightly after dropping samples inside sterile tubes and jars, then set about getting blood, hair and tissue samples. Lissa was dressed again; Kelvin gathered his things and stole quietly from the room.
"I want to kill him now," Davis growled.
"We can't. We have to wait and see who else is involved in this," Winkler said. "If I hadn't had that trace on the messages he sends, I wouldn't have caught this. How did that Tate kid get so many people involved?"
"I'm sure we'll find out and I hope it's sooner rather than later. I don't like watching my back where he's concerned," Weldon grumbled. "I know I'm safe if Lissa's up, but it's a different story if she isn't. I worry when Winkler has to go take a piss."
"I'll try to keep my pissing to a minimum," Winkler muttered.
"Piss on Kelvin," Davis suggested with a grin.
"Who do you have following him?" Winkler asked Davis.
"Glen and Hastings," Davis said. Winkler nodded. He could trust those two. "They'll give us a call but I figure he's hauling that to a lab somewhere to drop it off. Once we find which one, we can keep tabs on who comes in and goes out."
"We need to substitute something else for those samples," Weldon pointed out.
"We'll get right on that," Winkler pulled his cell out and made a few calls.
They got a message from Glen roughly an hour later; Kelvin had gone straight to Healdton Labs with the small bag of samples, dropping them off and leaving shortly after. He then drove to the convenience store as originally planned before returning to Denton. Glen, who was very experienced in tailing someone, never made Kelvin suspicious, even.
Winkler's hospital employee slipped into the lab two hours later, sniffed out the vampire samples, traded for some he'd taken just recently from a patient at the hospital and then called Winkler. Winkler arranged to meet with the technician, who handed everything over. Winkler passed quite a bit of cash to the man and carried Lissa's samples to Davis.
"Bury these," he said. "Destroy them as much as you can, then bury them where they won't be found." Davis nodded, grabbed the bag and took off.
"Get what you wanted?" Winkler came into the kitchen, finding Kelvin seated at the kitchen island, helping himself to a piece of leftover pie. Winkler forced himself to be calm, polite and interested in Kelvin's answer.
"Yes. But the convenience store didn't have the shampoo I liked, so I had to go somewhere else."
"Leave any pie?" Winkler looked inside the fridge. He pulled leftover turkey out to make a sandwich.
"There's still some pumpkin and pecan," Kelvin said. "I got the last of the apple."
Winkler wanted to strangle him just for that, but held himself and his growl back. Lissa made excellent apple pie.
* * *
"Lissa, do you want to do something tonight?" Winkler asked me later. He tried to pull me into his arms so I gave him a small hug and moved away from him.
"I need to go get a few things. I think I'm almost out of soap and stuff. Is there a Target close by?" I asked.
"If there isn't, I'll find one," Winkler grabbed his jacket, found a coat for me to wear and herded me out the door.
"You're using a black American Express to buy bath soap," Winkler rubbed my shoulders as I paid for my toiletries.
"Merrill wanted me to use it. I'm using it." I got my card and driver's license back from the cashier.
We walked to the car (Winkler had driven the Jaguar). The outside temperature had dropped to around forty, which was warm compared to what we'd dealt with in Michigan and Maine. "I think you need a warmer coat," Winkler said after getting me settled into the passenger seat. "We'll go to a couple of places and see if we can't find something."
A couple of places ended up being exclusive shops, where Winkler bought two coats for me while I tried to convince him they weren't needed and to put them back. One of them alone cost eighteen hundred dollars. The other was a little more casual and was a mere six hundred. Both were cashmere, the more expensive one ankle-length with a shawl collar. Winkler threw several scarves onto the pile and found three pairs of gloves.
"Winkler, you have to stop," I tried to slap his hands but he paid no attention to me. The long coat was in a charcoal gray, the shorter one in cognac. Winkler was picky, I'll give him that. I tried on two dozen coats before he was satisfied. He had the tags removed and dressed me in the shorter one for my trip out of the store because, in his words, the other was too dressy to wear over jeans. I just smacked his arm and gave him a nasty look. He grinned, hugged me, paid for everything and we left.
"Been shopping?" Davis eyed me, my new coat and the bags that Winkler lugged into the house.
"Is that cashmere?" Whitney came over to feel my new coat.
"They both are," Winkler announced smugly and allowed his sister to pull the other things out of the bags. The long coat was inside a nice garment bag, the scarves and gloves inside a regular paper bag with handles. You can always tell which shops have the exclusive items just by looking at the bags they hand out with a purchase. My little plastic Target bag felt like an orphan, I'm sure.
"We're leaving tomorrow morning," Winkler informed me before letting me go to my bedroom to put away my things. "You may want to pack up before you go to bed."
"I will," I said. Everything was done before I slept at dawn and I went to bed in my usual fleece outfit.
* * *
"She looks like she's sleeping," Sam helped Winkler place Lissa inside her body bag.
"She is sleeping," Winkler said. "She just isn't breathing while she's doing it," he added. He'd set the hidden alarm in Lissa's room when she went to bed, just to make sure she didn't get any more visits from uninvited guests. Kelvin was happy with what he'd done; he'd gone to bed and slept like a baby.
"It must be hard for them to trust anybody like this," Sam said, watching Winkler zip up the bag.
"I don't know that many of them would allow this," Winkler said. "I don't think for a minute that Gavin would allow anyone to touch him. Lissa is still new. She doesn't like this, I know, but right now we don't have a choice."
"The Grand Master said she took down one of the Des Moines Pack and moved faster than he could see her move when she did it."
"She did. That one never knew what hit him, it happened so fast." Winkler lifted Lissa inside her bag. "Let's go get her packed in with the rest of the bags." Sam followed him out of the bedroom.
The nearest airport that wasn't too tiny to handle Winkler's jet was in Clarksburg, West Virginia. The pilots stayed there with the plane while the rest of them packed luggage into a rental and headed for Buckhannon, first.
* * *
"Look who's back among the living," Winkler was holding out a bag of blood when I woke in the seat next to him on the drive to Buckhannon.
"Just stop already," I said, nipping the top off the bag so I could drink. Merrill had arranged for my supplies to be replenished while I was in Dallas so I was stocked up for the present. When we drove into Buckhannon, I discovered there wasn't a lot to pick from, hotel-wise. We ended up at a rustic bed and breakfast, taking up half of it with our usual three rooms. Gavin called while I was trying to dress for dinner with Weldon and the others, in order to meet the new Packmaster.
"Honey, how are you?" I asked. I'd sent him an email the day before, telling him where we were going.
"I am fine, Cara. Tell me they are treating you well."
"I'm good," I said. "Any word on Christmas?"
"I would almost believe you want to see me," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. Actually, I did want to see him. I did miss him, as long as he wasn't making me feel like I was six.
"I do want to see you," I said. "Tell me what you want for Christmas."
"Longer hair," he said. Did Gavin just joke with me? What alien planet had kidnapped the Gavin I knew and dropped a double in his place?
"Honey, those toupees never look right," I told him. He laughed at that.
Winkler was trying to rush me around so I had to let Gavin go. I think I shocked him pretty good when I told him I loved him. Well, I did. And when he wasn't being an ass, I didn't mind telling him so.
"I think we should have rented a house so Lissa could cook for us," Kelvin grumbled when we pulled into the parking lot for Murphy's Restaurant. Winkler gave him a sharp look but didn't say anything. Buckhannon didn't have many restaurants that stayed open late, unless you wanted fast food. The town itself was small; less than ten thousand people, I think. There was a mine disaster there not long ago and most of the miners didn't make it out again. I thought about asking Weldon if some of the werewolves worked the coal mines but decided against it.
Blood Passage (Blood Destiny #2) Page 14
