by Marilu Mann
“I…” Carly paused to stare at him for a long moment. “I don’t know.”
She got out of the truck and closed the door behind her. She absently noticed that the truck bore Wisconsin license plates and filed it away for future reference. Carly walked slowly to where her own car was parked. A kidnapper who quoted Shakespeare, another who was a phenomenal cook and a third man who thought he was a werewolf—lycanthrope, she corrected herself automatically—then shuddered.
“I need a cheeseburger and a nap.” Carly muttered as she got into her car for the short drive to her townhouse just outside New Orleans.
Chapter Two
A week later Carly was still mulling over the information Tony had imparted to her. She didn’t believe there was such a thing as lycanthropy, werewolves, shapeshifters, whatever they thought they were. However, her internet research pointed out a large community that did accept shapeshifting as a very real thing. She hoped his friends could help him with this delusion before it was too late.
Carly sighed as she leaned against the wall in her shower. The massaging showerhead was one of the best purchases she’d made in the past year. She leaned over and picked up the bottle of shampoo her sister had sent to her and a word on the bottle caught her eye.
“Almonds…I smelled like almonds?” Carly laughed as she read the label on the shampoo bottle in her hand. “Honey and almond shampoo. I’ll be damned! He said I smelled like almonds.”
She tentatively sniffed at the shampoo, not sure what she expected to smell, then shrugged and proceeded to wash her hair. Carly was getting ready to enjoy her first three-day weekend in months and she planned to start it off with a cup of cocoa on her balcony as she watched the sun come up. Since she worked the night shift, she wouldn’t stay up all day, but would go back to bed for some well-deserved catch-up sleep.
Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped her favorite robe around her still slightly damp body. Carly stopped in the tiny kitchen and poured a huge mug of cocoa, before going up to the second floor of her townhouse. Opening the French doors in her bedroom, she stepped out onto the balcony.
Taking a deep breath, she hooked one of the high-backed rattan chairs with her foot, pulling it closer to take a seat. Carly propped her feet up on the bottom rung of the railing around her balcony. This was her favorite time of the day. The whole world was waking up with her there to watch. She listened as a cardinal began to sound off. Then he suddenly flew away.
There was a rustling of the bushes below her. She fully expected to see the neighbor’s cat, so she was a bit surprised when a large dog wandered out of the bush. He stopped just within her line of sight and shook himself vigorously, then raised his head and sniffed. The dog’s head swiveled around toward her and Carly got her first good shock of the day.
This was no dog. This was a wolf. His eyes were almost yellow in the pale light streaming through the doors behind her. His coat was varying shades of gray and black.
Carly was immobile for the space of a few heartbeats, then shot to her feet. The wolf shied away, then looked at her again with what she could only call a chagrined expression before he loped away. Carly knew she was still standing there with her mouth open, so she forced herself to shut her mouth. Carly muttered to herself about delusions, long shifts and overactive imaginations, then went back inside.
For the first time since she’d lived in her condo, Carly triple-checked all of the locks on the doors and windows before climbing into her antique four-poster canopied bed. She shuddered slightly, though the temperature outside had probably been in the upper seventies and the air-conditioned temperature in her home was not nearly cool enough to cause her to shiver. It took much longer than usual for her to fall asleep. Even as she slept, her dreams were crowded with wolves and men with strange gold eyes and black hair.
* * * * *
Tony unlocked the back door of his antiques shop. He chuckled as he disconnected from the mobile call with Nolan. Though he’d been embarrassed to be seen by Dr. Chambers, he’d been quick to report that there hadn’t been any untoward activity around her townhouse. Tony felt nothing but relief that they’d managed to protect Carly.
Her spirit and boldness had captured his interest, but he wouldn’t allow anything more to come of it. Associations with humans had to be kept brief and monitored. They were not able to protect themselves in the same way shifters were and he would not be responsible for the death of another human. Shaking away his memories, Tony closed the door and moved farther into the room.
The smell of varnish and stripping fluids always took his breath away when he first entered his workroom. He carefully allowed the odors to settle into his senses. The pieces in the storeroom were in various states of repair or restoration. Tony made his way into the kitchenette off the storeroom to start the first of several pots of coffee for the day. Though he didn’t indulge in more than two or three cups, his staff was notorious for consuming mass quantities of the thick chicory brew.
Tony poured himself a cup of the fragrant coffee when it was finished, then carried it up to the second floor where his office was located. He turned his computer on to pull up his inventory sheets. There was a new group of chairs being delivered this morning that he was very interested in. The seller had claimed that they were from the home of Earl Long. He clicked over to his email where he found a request from a client for a snuffbox.
A noise from outside caught his attention. Like the cat that he was, his senses were on alert as he lifted his head to see if he could catch a scent. All he smelled was gasoline and street smells. He padded gracefully to the window. There was a man sitting astride a large motorcycle parked across the street. Normally he wouldn’t have paid any attention to such a sight, but it was very early in the morning and something triggered his internal warning system.
None of the shops on the street, including his own, would open for at least an hour. His feeling of unease increased as the man put the foot stand down and stepped off the motorcycle. He removed a black helmet and shook his hair out so that it flowed over his shoulders. Bending forward slightly, he put the helmet on the bike, then slowly unzipped his black leather jacket and removed a pair of black leather gloves.
The man was almost as tall as Micah, though probably not as broad through the shoulders or chest. His hair was brown and nearly as long as Tony’s, falling midway down his back. Several strands were over his shoulder, allowing Tony to accurately judge the length. His mustache, goatee and long sideburns were just a shade darker than his hair.
The man simply stood on the sidewalk looking directly at Tony’s office window, then slowly raised his left hand, holding it palm out toward Tony. The livid red mark on his palm stood out in stark relief against his tan skin. The mark wasn’t familiar to Tony, but he knew he’d remember it long enough to sketch it for future research. Tony wondered if he was affiliated with the Turn Skins.
The Turn Skins were a somewhat radical group of shifters. They were mostly canine, though a few other species had aligned themselves with the pack as well. Micah had been one of their number for several years, but had abruptly left the pack without explanation to anyone. Curtis Melancon had been the Alpha for so long that no one could really remember a time he hadn’t been around. Curtis had died just a year ago. Tony took a deep breath as he realized he was looking at the new Alpha of the Turn Skins.
That the man had chosen to show himself so brazenly meant he considered Tony a threat and was seeking to establish where Tony stood. With the keen eyesight of his “other”, Tony could now clearly see the marks of battle on the stranger. He could see a few healing gashes on his neck and jaw and one particularly dark shadow that was probably a bruise along his left temple. The Turn Skins had been in turmoil for months. It was interesting that a new leader had finally emerged. It was even more intriguing that the shifter had already come to Changing Times.
Tony wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction of an early morning encounter. He dropped the curtain back into plac
e and resumed his seat at his desk. Within moments he heard the purr of a powerful engine as the motorcycle drove away. It took a few minutes for his mind to clear before he picked up the phone to call Micah. He wasn’t a bit surprised to find that the strange man had paid a similar visit to Micah at the apartment he kept in town, nor was he surprised to find that Micah knew who he was.
“Slade, that’s what he calls himself. Whether that is his real name or not is somewhat irrelevant. He was one of Curtis’ Beta males after I left the pack. Slade is powerful, ruthless, driven. Exactly what the Turn Skins were looking for in their next leader. He is not above using blackmail or intimidation. He showed up at your place this morning?”
“Yes. He simply stood across the street and showed me his hand. Since when did the Turn Skins resort to branding?”
“Branding?” Micah’s voice deepened.
“He had a rather distinct brand on his left hand. It looked fairly fresh, I was wondering if it was the new thing among your kind for the Alpha.”
“They are not my kind.” Micah’s words were soft, but Tony heard the steel behind them and knew he had insulted his friend.
“My apologies, Micah. I simply meant the canines, not you in particular.”
Micah sighed and Tony heard the tension leave his voice. “I know. I am disturbed by the fact that Slade is the new Alpha. He’s dangerous, Tony. He can cause us some real problems.”
“Then we’ll have to become even more vigilant, won’t we?” They agreed to meet in a week at Nolan’s club. They both referred to Animalia as Nolan’s, though they were both silent partners in the business. Nolan ran the club and took care of all of the bookwork. Tony and Micah had simply provided him with the capital to buy the building and reopen the business after Hurricane Katrina and, in his typical generous fashion, Nolan had put their names down on all the paperwork as his partners.
Tony turned his attention back to his own business as he wondered what Slade had been trying to prove. Tony had very little dealing with the Turn Skins, preferring to socialize with a variety of shifters as well as humans. Very few of his human acquaintances knew what he was and that’s the way he liked things. Tony thought that he would attract the wrong type of client if he let it be known that he was capable of shapeshifting. New Orleans was a very accepting town but even so, there were some limits. He had the feeling that “outing” himself as a very large panther might just breach that limit for many people.
When he heard his assistants enter the building, Tony made his way downstairs. He greeted Yvonne and Louis, the young human pair who worked for him, joined them for a cup of coffee, then plucked the newspaper out of Louis’ hand before heading back up to his office. Tony had just opened the paper to scan the headlines when his private phone line rang. He answered absently, then immediately went on alert as he saw the headline of the Metro section.
“Tony? It’s Julia. Have you seen the paper?”
“I’m looking at it now. How did this happen?”
“Apparently she has been enduring systematic verbal abuse and some mildly veiled sexual harassment. She took it as long as she could, then she snapped.” Tony heard the sigh come over the phone and knew that Julia was rubbing her hand across her forehead as she spoke.
“What can I do, cheré?”
“She’ll need someone to talk to. I’m going to the police department now to see her. Can you meet me there?”
“I’ll be there in half an hour. Take heart, cheré, we’ll get through this.”
“Yes, we will, but will Susan?” Julia hung up with another soft sigh and Tony finished reading the lurid headline.
A local CPA had been murdered and his administrative assistant arrested in connection with his murder. The newspaper story went on to relate how the man’s body had been found in his office with his throat nearly torn out. There were various marks on the man’s body, which the reporter intimated might have been made by an animal of some sort.
Tony thought about Susan and those like her who were reluctant to accept what they were. Over the years he had become a magnet for misfits, those who were hesitant to reveal who and what they were to the outside world. His was a pack of the packless—those shifters who gave no allegiance to a single leader or had no others to run with. Julia knew this and knew that Tony would never turn down another shifter in need.
Susan was a timid individual, newly come into the realization of just how powerful she was. Such a small, delicate woman and he had to smile as he thought about her. She was quiet, but she was extremely intelligent. Susan had gone to work for this particular CPA only eight months ago and though she had voiced mild concern about her ability to do the work, she had been brave enough to try.
If what Julia said was true, then Susan would need all of the help they could get for her, starting with bail money. Tony mentally reviewed the state of his own finances and wondered how much they would need for bail. He sighed as he picked up the phone to make another call before heading for the police station.
A few hours later, he and Julia, a very competent lawyer as well as a fellow were-cat, left the police station. Julia had spoken to Susan and had promised to be with her during the bail hearing in the morning. Unfortunately, Susan couldn’t be released until the hearing. Tony had promised to inform her family and to assure them that everything that could be done was being done. Julia planned to talk to several others in their community to get a source of support for the family.
Tony pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket as he got to his car. He smiled at the irony of his vehicle. The sleek black sports car with the silver cat hood ornament looked out of place parked in front of the police station. He slid behind the wheel as he dialed the number for Charity Hospital. When the receptionist answered, he asked for Carly Chambers’ voicemail. Tony was informed that Dr. Chambers wasn’t on duty and he sighed as he repeated his request for her voicemail.
When he was grudgingly connected, Tony left a short message asking Carly to return his call at her earliest convenience. He knew she worked the night shift, but hoped she would be awake soon so he could convince her to stop by the jail. Tony knew Carly didn’t owe him anything.
In fact, he was really in her debt, however, he hoped she would agree to see Susan. He was worried about her mental health. And he didn’t know any other doctors he trusted. Somehow, he was sure he could trust Carly. His instincts were generally correct.
Chapter Three
Even through the fog of sleep, Carly heard her phone ring. That distinctive chirping sound signaled a hospital voicemail waited for her. God, she loved technology. Rolling over, she pulled the sheet up farther over her shoulders. She didn’t have to answer that call for three glorious days. Then she started to wonder who it might be.
What if it was about the stabbing victim from last night? She was sure the young woman was going to make it, but what if there had been a problem? Carly gave up. She could never win an argument with herself when it came to her patients. She called her voicemail.
The well-remembered sensual voice on the message made her rub her skin. He requested a return call. She certainly hadn’t expected to hear from her patient. Then again, she had indicated an interest in his particular rapid healing ability. Maybe he was using this as an excuse to ask her out? Carly chuckled as that thought hit her.
She had the distinct feeling that if Tony Pantera wanted to ask a woman out, he wouldn’t resort to any type of subterfuge. In fact, in spite of the fact that he was obviously delusional, a man that reeked sensuality like he did probably had any number of women on the hook at one time. She debated briefly before hitting the button to replay the message, then jotting the number he’d left on the pad on her bedside table.
Carly stretched luxuriously, then threw back the summer-weight comforter and got out of bed. She yawned as she walked into her white on white bathroom and turned the water on to wash her face.
Before deciding whether or not to actually return Tony’s call, Carly decided she need
ed coffee. She made her way back downstairs to the kitchen and stopped by the front door to pick up the newspaper. She pulled the binder off the paper as she walked into the kitchen, then tossed the paper on the counter as she set about starting a fresh pot of coffee.
While the coffee perked, Carly stared out of the kitchen window. There was a hummingbird feeder outside the window and she absently noted that it needed to be refilled. Carly poured the fresh coffee into one of her huge earthenware mugs, then sat at the counter and pulled the paper toward her.
The front-page headline caught her attention right away. Carly read the story with some interest and a lot of professional curiosity. She wondered how the petite woman in the picture could have overpowered the large man in the other picture to the point that she had practically ripped his throat out. A distinct chill went down Carly’s spine and she peered closely at the picture of the woman.
The shrill jangle of her phone caused Carly to jump and to splash coffee all over the newspaper. She grumbled as she reached for the extension on the wall. It was a siding salesman. She hung up on him without listening to his pitch, then turned her attention back to the newspaper.
The story was told with typical fervor for the bizarre and Carly tried to read between the lines. It was sad and she felt bad for the victim and the young woman who had been arrested for his murder. Carly finished her coffee and poured a second cup before thinking about Tony Pantera again. He was in the forefront of her mind now.
She remembered the way the dim light in the bedroom had shone in his hair and the strange gold tint to his green eyes. Carly shook her head and made her way back upstairs to her bedroom. She wanted to get dressed before she called Tony. It might seem strange, but she didn’t want to talk to him while she was still wearing the tank top and shorts she habitually wore to bed.
