Animal Attraction

by Tracy St. John

  Gerald rose from me. He’d reverted back to being more man than panther, the fur reduced to stubble on his cheeks and chin. The muzzle had receded, though the triangular shape of his nose was a constant. He gazed down at me with a heartbreaking look of want.

  It wasn’t Brandilynn Payson Gerald saw. He stared at his long-lost Patricia, the woman he’d loved so dearly. The woman who’d gone beyond the reach of the living, undead, and dead.

  I covered my face with my hands, partly because I couldn’t stand to see such naked yearning on my friend’s face. But mostly because I had let anger get the upper hand yet again. I had fed on the living. Worst still, I had had sex with Gerald.

  “Dang it. When will this get easier?”

  The werepanther pulled away from me. Conscientious as ever, he tried to arrange my clothing to save my dignity. Ha. My clothes could have doubled as confetti. I’d torn my pants off with a vampire’s strength, and Gerald had shredded my blouse. Werepanthers have claws.

  His rich voice heavy with what I took to be regret, he said, “It’s okay, Brandilynn. It can’t be helped sometimes.”

  I sat up, gathering my tattered clothing and poise as best I could. “Tell that to the people who die when a vampire loses control. Tell that to Dan.”

  My voice trembled in the cold night air. Life felt good, but it brought sharpness to emotions like remorse as well. I managed to feel vibrant and like a big barrel of poo at the same time.

  Gerald put his arms around me and held me close. His comfort was that of a caring brother instead of a lover now. “You won’t kill me, and Dan understands how things are right now. Hush, little girl. It’s all right. It’s all right, honey.”

  He rocked me like a little girl, petting my short black hair, humming a quiet tune in that deep, soothing voice. I let him, feeling the quiet pleasure of a friend who never judged. Gerald was one of the few bright sparks in my pathetic existence. I appreciated it while I could; while hunger and coldness and anger didn’t ride me like a sadistic jockey. Contentment seeped in, displacing the uncertainty and pain.

  “I never would have pegged you for a cat person, Brandilynn.”

  The amused voice cut through my quieting emotions. In an instant Gerald and I were on our feet, alerted predators ready to take on whoever had dared to encroach on our territory.

  I relaxed with an inward groan as I recognized the interloper. Levi Ward. Great. As if things weren’t screwy enough, I’d been caught banging Gerald by the werewolf federal agent who also had the hots for me.

  I self-consciously covered my naughty bits with my arms. I tried to hide my discomfort by glaring in defiance at Levi. “What are you doing here, Bane?”

  Our intruder identified, Gerald eased up and adjusted his clothing. His had come through our amorous encounter in dirty but otherwise decent shape. He eyed Levi with overt warning. The men had never met, but Gerald knew the story.

  I delighted in Levi’s scowl. I’d called him Bane. He hated the name he’d been given when working undercover with a criminal motorcycle gang. I use it every time he ticked me off.

  Levi Ward ticked me off quite often.

  His golden gaze turned to Gerald, sizing him up. Levi was almost as muscled and every bit as handsome as the werepanther. His mouth was more pronounced, a definite though slight muzzle. His golden-brown eyes were riveting. His dark hair was shot with gray, the color of his wolf. The way his black tee shirt stretched across his defined chest would make a nun scream for strength. Jeans clung lovingly to carved thighs.

  Seeing him and Gerald put evil thoughts in my head. My libido, still enlivened by Gerald’s blood, perked up yet again. I firmly shut it down. Levi was never, ever on the menu. I made that mistake once and vowed never to do it again.

  Unfortunately Levi was one of those for whom the word ‘no’ translates to ‘maybe if you keep trying’. He looked me up and down with unconcealed interest as he said, “I came looking for you. Dan Saling sent me.”

  “Dan? Try again, dog breath. You can’t see ghosts.” I let go of my glamour to show off my fangs.

  Gerald sighed and picked up the full bottle of BP9 he’d dropped when I’d jumped him. Most had spilled, but about a quarter of it was left. He shoved it in my direction. “Don’t provoke her, Wolf Boy.”

  Levi frowned at him as I shook my head, indicating I didn’t need the juice. The agent asked him, “What’s the matter, kitten? Can’t handle Ms. Payson?”

  “I’d say I handled her fine, pup. Now shut up before she decides to take a bite out of you. I won’t stand in her way for that part, but you better believe you won’t get a taste of her after she’s done tasting you.”

  I didn’t like how this conversation was shaping up for several reasons. I gave the two shifters angry eyes as I said, “Why don’t you both settle down? I’m not territory to be marked.”

  Levi took a good look at me, this time keeping his gaze above neck level. For an instant his gold eyes glowed. The shine faded and he nodded to Gerald in grudging respect. “Don’t provoke. Check.” He drew a deep breath and addressed me again, his tone a good deal more polite. “Dan relayed his message through that psychic who hears the dead. Lana?”

  That didn’t help my temper one bit. What was Dan thinking, sending Levi here to see me? He knew how badly things went when I worked on flying. He knew what situation Levi might stumble on.

  My irritation wasn’t helped as the temporary warmth of life drained from my body. I was going back to cold, undead vampire. I snapped words like whips at Levi. “What. Do. You. Want?”

  He rolled his gaze to the deadly darkness known as Gerald. “Private matter. Government matter.”

  Gerald folded his massive arms over his massive chest and frowned. “Don’t even think about it. Do you know how fast a new vampire moves and how uncontrollable it can be?”

  I stomped my foot. “I am not a vampire! I’m just trapped in one.”

  Gerald sighed. “Sorry, Brandilynn. I don’t want anything bad to happen because I wasn’t close by to stop it. I could care less for Agent Wolfie here, but you’d never forgive yourself.”

  He was right, as usual. I swallowed a lump in my throat, brought on by the knowledge that when I lost my temper I couldn’t be trusted.

  I took criticism from Gerald with no problem. He’d been amazing about sticking close by and helping me while I navigated my new existence.

  Levi held his hands up in a peace gesture. “I promise to be polite. I will say and do nothing offensive. I’m sorry, Mr. Clark, but I really do need to talk to her alone.”

  I nodded to Gerald. “Leave me plenty of Blood Potion. I’ll keep a lid on my temper. I won’t try to fly,” I added, attempting to joke. All’s well here, folks.

  I could tell Gerald was unsure. I put all my best glamour on, trying to look as human and unruffled as possible. I could never hide the paper-white skin or hungry look that was part and parcel of a vampire’s appearance, but I managed to look only semi-deadly.

  Bless his soul, he acquiesced. “I’ll get some more Blood Potion and your change of clothes.”

  He did so. As he set a six pack of bottled blood on the ground and handed me another outfit, he warned Levi. “She means a lot to me. She means a lot to people who mean a lot to me. You on the other hand mean nothing, Deputy Dog. She loses her grip and kills you, I’ll see to it that your body will never be found. Got me?”

  I had to give Levi credit. He didn’t even raise an eyebrow at the threat. He nodded. “Understood.”

  Gerald stalked off. I heard him growling softly as he went. I motioned to Levi to turn his back while I put on clothes that would restore my modesty. Quirking a wry smile that hinted at the deviltry I knew existed in spades, Levi put his back to me.

  Vampire hearing is sensitive. I heard when Gerald got into his car half a mile away. The door slammed, letting me know the werepanther’s temper. He treated his fully restored ’67 Mercury Cougar with kid gloves most of the time.

  “I’m dressed,” I
told Levi. The pink silk blouse was perhaps a bit flouncy for Patricia’s body, but it gave her bluish-white skin some life. Cream-colored slacks toned down the frivolous top.

  Levi turned and grinned at me. I knew his smile meant trouble. I huffed with impatience. “What?”

  “The irresistible Brandilynn Payson scores another sweetheart.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Gerald was in love with this body’s previous occupant.”

  He snickered. “Which is why he was so quick to open his fly when you lost your shit. And why he’d threaten a federal agent with covering up a murder if you decide to kill me.”

  At my glare, he raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry for the innuendo and the language. I promised not to make you mad. I apologize. Truce?”

  I wasn’t mollified in the least. “You’re such a jerk. Tell me what you want so I can get on with my afterlife.”

  Before he got into that, I wanted to know something more important to me personally. “First things first. Why did Dan send you to talk to me? And why did you approach him?”

  Levi shrugged. “I can’t get to Tristan Keith. Every time I try to talk to him, his secretary puts me off. I’m not sure she’s passing along my messages.”

  Tristan’s secretary Wendy was too efficient to not tell Tristan a fed was trying to reach him. My bet was that Tristan snubbed Levi on purpose.

  Tristan and I were history. Big time. I found it interesting that Tristan still held a grudge over the brief encounter I’d had with Levi. Especially since Tristan had been banging blood groupies left and right at the time.

  Levi continued. “I thought talking to someone who has his lordship’s ear might get things moving. So I approached the clairvoyant and asked her if she could help me talk to Dan. She did so, and he said you might have more luck talking to Tristan Keith than he would.” The shifter gave me a curious look. “I’m running in rings trying to get to Keith, and no one will help me. Instead, you’re all passing me around like a hot potato. Is there trouble in the land of our new state legislator?”

  I snorted, a most unladylike sound. “Tristan’s not elected yet. Dan knows he’s less likely to talk to me than him anyway.” My tone ended in a snarl.

  “What has got your panties in a bunch, girl? Or are those vampire urges making you cranky?”

  I opened a bottle of BP9 and took a healthy swallow. “It makes me wonder if my boyfriend sent you here to interrupt anything that might be happening with Gerald. Like what you found.”

  Levi’s golden brown eyes widened. “Your boyfriend – so the ghost Dan Saling is the guy that keeps me from having a decent chance at you?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. You do perfectly fine on your own convincing me to keep my distance.”

  I drained the bottle, gathering my thoughts. I made myself go calm. I could deal with Dan later ... and Tristan MUCH later, if at all.

  I made myself businesslike. “What do you want Tristan to know?”

  “A number of shifters have gone missing in the last four months. Gone without a trace.”

  “No sign of hide nor hair?” My quip fell flat judging from Levi’s grim expression. I sighed. “Levi, you of all people know how marginalized the weres are. You live it every day. All it takes is a scratch and some human gets Zoo Flu. Then they’re dead or furry. The majority of the time, they get ostracized. Since when is it anything new for shifters to drop out of society?”

  He folded big, mouth-watering arms over his chest. “When they’re family people with steady jobs. I’m not talking about new shifters. I’m not telling you about the poor bastards who end up homeless and dumpster diving for their meals. Hell, two of my best instructors at the academy have vanished. Missing persons reports have been filed by wives and parents.”

  Okay, this was serious. “How many shifters are we talking about?”

  “Eight total, which I know doesn’t sound like many—”

  My mouth dropped open. “But in four months’ time, it’s a lot. I see what you mean. Tristan won’t talk to you?”

  Tristan employed a ton of people, all paras. If shifters were going missing, he would know. He had to know.

  Levi rubbed the back of his neck, his expression frustrated. “When I’ve tried to set up appointments with him, his aide reminds me that he’s the head of a vampire clutch, not the alpha of a pack. She won’t give me the time of day.”

  I’d had my own run-ins with Wendy and could vouch for her ability to keep people away from Tristan. “Go on.”

  “I showed up at the King George tonight, hoping to catch our would-be state senator and force him to talk to me. He may not be a shifter, but he’s a para and he keeps up with everything in this town. He claims to be about all paras’ rights. Surely he’s noticed something by now.”

  “If he has, I’m probably the last person he’d discuss it with.”

  “I guess seeing his sister’s body roaming around with someone else in it isn’t a welcome sight?”

  A spark of anger came and went, leaving depression in its wake. “Tristan tried to deal with it. He really did, but he and Patricia were too close. He can’t even tolerate being in the same room with me these days.”

  Once upon a time, Tristan and I had been in love. We’d been in an uncomfortable triangle, he, Dan, and me. I’d been ready to give up Dan for Tristan when I’d been pulled into this weird half-time life in Patricia Keith’s body.

  Levi pulled me out of my morose musings. “I need some help here, Brandilynn. Even the smallest tidbit of information might be worth something. The cops have nothing. As much as I hate to admit it, Tristan’s my only hope.”

  I sighed. I didn’t want to talk to my ex. But eight shifters in four months ... this was a big deal. If Fulton Falls’ champion of para rights didn’t know what was going on, he needed to.

  “I’ll try. I’ll talk to Tristan and the others.”

  “Great. Here are pictures of my instructors.” Levi handed me some shots, obviously the agents’ federal identification photos. I looked them over. A weregator and werehog, both men, both late thirties, early forties. Strong and proud. They sure didn’t look like people who would up and leave with no warning.

  I shook my head, knowing what I was up against when it came to Tristan. “I can’t promise anything. Most of the paras are as freaked out by what happened to me and Patricia as Tristan is. I hadn’t made many friends among their kind before I got sucked into this body.”

  “No pun intended?” Levi teased. “I’m not surprised you weren’t popular with the shifters. I remember how you had a few bad habits when it came to political correctness.”

  I squirmed at the reminder. When Levi and I first met, I had bad manners. Okay, I’ll be frank. I was bigoted. I had been that way in life when it came to paras, and becoming one myself as a ghost had not cured me of some unfortunate habits. I’d referred to shifters as ‘varmints’. Nowadays I would never say such a thing, especially to someone like Gerald.

  I acknowledged that I hadn’t endeared myself to my supernatural fellows before I’d ended up in Patricia’s body. “Gerald is one of the few that will still talk to me.”

  “He thinks enough of you to play protector.”

  Again I had to admit, at least to myself, that Gerald’s kindnesses probably had more to do with the form I currently took than with me myself. But that doesn’t change the fact he’s been a rock. I owed that man a lot, no matter the reason.

  Levi eyed the distant mint green car shining in the moonlight with a wry smile. “I guess I won’t chase the big cat up a tree.” Forever the smarty pants, the agent gave me an overt ogling. “At least he’s getting something out of his kindness. You know, I’ve never had a vampire before. As far as possessions go, this is one of your better ones.”

  I released enough of my glamour to flash him fangs. “No, Levi. No and always no.”

  With that, I turned on my heel and stalked away, grabbing up my BP9 as I went. But I didn’t open a new bottle, even tho
ugh Levi’s laugh made my temper spike yet again.

  Stupid werewolf.

  Chapter 2

  By the time Gerald drove me to downtown Fulton Falls, I’d regained my equilibrium. I guzzled BP9 along the way until I felt it sloshing around inside my gut. I had to face both Dan and Tristan in the same night. I was determined to have my more ferocious instincts under control.

  The second factor helping me was Gerald. As big and bad as he was, he was also a calming influence. I think there is nothing he won’t do to make me feel better. Even though his musical tastes run more in line with Kanye and Jay Z, he found a station playing what I like. It’s hard to pout when you’ve got a 250-pound-plus muscle-bound werepanther next to you singing ‘Stronger’ at the top of his lungs. Plus dancing behind the steering wheel like nobody’s business. He went on to do the same with ‘Shake It Off’. He kept smacking my arm to join in despite knowing my singing voice has a lot in common with the mellow sounds of a chainsaw. He didn’t wince when I gave in and did the tunes so much damage, laughing my fool head off the whole while.

  The last bit putting me in a more serene state of mind was the car. I’ve rode in the fanciest luxury autos around, but there was something about a classic vehicle that delighted me to no end. The Cougar’s V-8 rumbled like a contented ... well, what I imagine a contented werepanther’s purr might sound like. Not that Gerald ever purred. At least, not to my knowledge. It felt like pure strength because he’d put the most powerful engine in it the model had ever originally boasted. I couldn’t remember the particulars and I didn’t want to ask. Once Gerald started talking cars, he never stopped.

  The wood-look of the dash gleamed and not a speck of dust marred anything in the mostly black interior. It made me think of happier days when I’d been a teenager cruising the streets with whatever boyfriend I’d had at the moment. Most of them had driven older cars too. Even the well-heeled parents who boasted status above all other things knew better than to buy new vehicles for teenage showoffs.

  If not for constant hunger and cold riding me, I could pretend to back to that more innocent time. Oh, the warnings I would give younger me!