by Kathy Reichs
“Then don’t.” Ben deadpanned, but with a hostile undercurrent.
Chance dismissed Ben completely, in that way only he could manage. “May I have this dance?” He extended a hand gracefully, as if he spent most evenings patrolling swanky tuxedo parties picking up girls. Who knows? Maybe he did.
Ben went rigid. I was about to decline when Ella clapped Ben on the shoulders. “Come on, thundercloud. These two need to chat, and I won’t sit out another song.” Caught off guard, Ben allowed himself to be tugged away from the table. A second later, he was out on the dance floor, looking miserable as Ella grooved effortlessly beside him.
“Well then!” Chance smiled rakishly, bending closer and whispering in my ear. “There doesn’t seem to be a problem now. Shall we?”
I nearly refused out of pique, but took a deep breath instead.
Chance obviously wanted something. I wanted to know what.
He isn’t my enemy. He may even be an ally.
“Tactful as always, Claybourne.” Taking his hand and rising.
“A gift.”
Chance led me onto the hardwood, away from where Ben was awkwardly trying to keep up with Ella. He nodded toward the bandleader. Instantly the song changed, a slower tune filling the room.
My eyes rolled. “Oh, very nice.”
Chance wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me in. “Easier to talk this way.”
We moved in rhythm, our heads nearly touching. I wasn’t able to see his eyes, but his voice crawled straight into my ear. “How have things been, Tory?”
“Fine. Wonderful, actually.”
A pause, then, “No . . . external complications?”
I tensed, but responded quickly. “Nope. None.”
He pulled back to look at me, his tone low and insistent. “Are you certain? No rooftop watchers? No suspicious visitors to your little island? Nothing at all?”
“Nothing, Chance. They’re gone.” I swallowed. “I hope.”
Chance nodded, seemed to relax a bit. We resumed our dance. “Same. Claybourne Manor has been positively . . . tame since you four stopped happening by.”
I snorted. “If by ‘tame’ you mean nobody’s had to jump off the roof, then I’ll take it.”
He chuckled, spinning me in time with the music. “I’ve had several less-than-cordial discussions with my security team about that, believe me.”
We fell silent for a moment. I tried to spot Ben, but couldn’t pick him out of the mass of swaying bodies. I knew more was coming. Chance already knew that our pursuers had called off the chase. Whatever he really wanted to discuss, we hadn’t gotten there yet.
“And you?” he asked suddenly.
“Me what?”
“Nothing going on . . . inside?”
I felt a jolt. Tried to cover it. “You know what happened, Chance. You were there.”
He didn’t respond at first, and we took another turn around the crowded floor. But I was beginning to sweat. Did he suspect my powers weren’t actually gone? Then I went cold. Was he experiencing the same thing?
I decided to go on the offensive. “And you?”
He cocked his head slightly. “What about me?”
“Any lingering . . . feelings?”
Chance watched me for several heartbeats. I couldn’t get a read on him. Then, “Not a ripple. It seems my work was entirely successful. Same goes for the rest of the red-eyed pack, I looked into it. None of the old magic remains. Being Viral has been snuffed out entirely.”
“Good.” I turned away. “Same here.”
Chance stopped dancing. “Are you sure, Tory? Have you really tried?”
I glanced around, voice dropping to a hiss. “Of course I did. It’s gone, Chance. Done.”
He watched me intently, for what seemed like an eternity. Then he sighed, drawing me in again. “I suppose it’s for the best.”
“You think?” I whispered sarcastically. “Losing our powers was the only thing that saved our lives! We’d be locked in cages otherwise.”
Chance nodded unhappily. “I know, I know! But I can’t help missing it, and I was Viral for a much shorter time than you. Surely you have regrets?”
Regrets? How could I? I’d recently become something else. Something more.
But I’m not telling you that.
“There’s no point looking back,” I said curtly. “Done is done.”
I could tell Chance didn’t share my opinion. To keep him from prying further, I said the first thing that popped into my head. “You and Ella seem to be getting along.”
A wicked smile creased his lips. “Jealous? Ouch!”
I removed my heel from his foot. “Oops! Sorry.”
He breathed a throaty chuckle. “Guess I deserved that.”
“And more.”
“So how is Benjamin?” Chance asked dryly. “Still rooting around in creeks?”
“He’s been accepted into a prestigious environmental science program,” I responded primly. “One of the best in the country. At a college. Perhaps you’ve heard of such places?”
Chance sniffed. “They seem cute, but I have a company to run.”
I gave him my most level look. “You don’t work there anymore, Chance. It was all over the news. The Board kicked you out after discovering those bills you ran up in Special Projects.”
His expression soured. “Curing us was one of those expensive projects, thank you very much.” Then he snorted derisively. “Whatever. I still own the stupid place. Let those suits handle the boring daily details.”
We swung another turn. This was a long freaking song.
“Why don’t you go to college?” I asked, genuinely curious. “You’re too smart for your own good, and I’m sure you could buy your way in to wherever you felt like going.”
Chance shrugged. “Maybe I will.” The rakish grin returned. “Or I could cut out the middleman, and simply buy a university. Give myself all sorts of degrees. You might be onto something, Brennan.”
I was about to scold him when I spotted Ben, still manfully escorting Ella in circles, his head swiveling as he scanned the crowd. He located me just as the music finally ended. I tried to disengage, but Chance led on as another slow song began to play. Ben glowered, the old frown sliding into place as Ella gathered him up again.
“Before you run off, I just want to be sure.”
Chance forced me to meet his eye. He was very close. And damn good-looking.
“Sure about what?” My thoughts bounced like a tennis ball—from my relationship with Ben, to rejecting Chance, to the dark secrets we all shared. “I don’t like games, Chance.”
“There’s nothing left of your flare power?” he asked, watching like a hawk. I got the distinct impression he didn’t believe me the first time. “No lingering trace? Not a shred of the old abilities?” Chance moved closer and whispered, “Or anything new?”
I swallowed, but held his gaze. “It’s gone, Chance. You’ve got to move on.”
His eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to speak again, but a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder, spinning him around.
“May I cut in?” Ben growled.
Chance’s composure slipped a notch as he glared at Ben. Then he smirked. “By all means.” He stepped back. Ben took my hand. Chance watched as Ben led me away across the dance floor.
“Thanks for the lovely dance!” Chance called. Then, quieter, “I’ll be seeing you.”
I tried not to wince. What did that mean?
“Jackass.” Ben was scowling full throttle.
“Be nice.” I nuzzled in close. “How was your twirl with Ella?”
“Humiliating.” Ben released my hand and began tugging at his collar. “She moves like a ballerina, and I’m a frozen caveman.” Then he blanched. “Not that—”
“Shut it, Blue.”
Resting my head against his chest. “I’ve seen her dance, too.”
Ben put his mouth to my ear. “She had a lot of questions.”
I nodded without looking up. “Chance, too.”
He lifted my chin so I could see his face. Should we worry?
I shrugged. What’s the point?
But I remembered the look in Chance’s eyes.
Did he believe me? Was he suspicious we were hiding more? Was he hiding more?
The last thing we needed was Chance Claybourne on our scent again.
But ultimately, what could we do?
Blargh.
Business as usual.
The song ended, and we clapped politely with the other guests. A jaunty, bouncy tune came next. I squeezed Ben’s hand, putting Chance out of my mind.
This was my father’s wedding, damn it. I was going to have fun.
“One more?” I begged, rabbit-pecking his cheek.
Ben’s smile was sickly. “Sure. You know me. Dancing. Love it.”
A half hour of busting moves later, Chance was the furthest thing from my mind.
The cool evening air was refreshing.
I stepped from a covered porch, scanning the now-picked-over flower garden. A quarter of the rosebuds were gone, sacrificed to Operation Emergency Centerpieces. I felt terrible about the damage, but we’d had no other choice. Better a plundered garden than a suicidal bride.
Upon seeing our handiwork, the house manager had nearly fainted on the spot. Only Kit’s promise of full reimbursement—plus a hefty donation to the building’s annual arboretum fund—had smoothed his ruffled feathers.
I sat down on a stone bench. Heard a rustling in the bushes at the far end of the yard.
No need to call out.
Cooper already knew I was there.
Sister-friend. Coop emerged from the shadows wearing a wide doggie grin. I reached out and rubbed his head. He nuzzled my other hand, sniffing out the treat I’d brought for him. Food?
I wouldn’t forget about you. I unwrapped a half-portion of filet mignon. Held it up for him to see. Kit says you’re being spoiled.
I tossed the meat in a short arc. Coop caught it easily, then settled at my feet and began gnawing his prize. Food is shared. Keeps pack strong. The wolfdog radiated contentment as he scarfed down the expensive steak.
I smiled. Try telling him that.
Coop paused. Cocked his head. Can’t tell eldest. Can’t hear. Nor his mate.
I know, buddy. I stroked his scruffy back as he resumed eating. Be thankful for that.
Coop and I could communicate almost perfectly since . . . whatever . . . had happened when I swallowed Chance’s antidote. But some things—like sarcasm—simply didn’t translate. Our minds were too different for stuff like that.
I noticed a shallow cut on his snout. What’s this? I asked, tracing the wound with a finger.
Devil animal. Coop gave me what I took to be a plaintive look. Allowed to bite?
Sighing, I shook my head. Sorry, boy. Banjo belongs to Hi now. You two have to find a way to get along.
Foul beast. Cooper bared his teeth. Pretends friendship, then attacks. Then runs!
I chuckled, scratching behind his ears. Banjo’s a cat. That’s what they do.
The music inside cut off. A slurred voice began droning into the microphone—no doubt an unplanned toast from an over-served guest. I was glad to be outside, away from all the hoopla. Chirping crickets sounded better to me than the raucous cheers in the ballroom.
A door opened, and one of the singers stepped out for a smoke. I sighed, nodded politely as he wished me a good evening. My moment of solitude had lasted less than a minute. But one look at Cooper—a nearly full-grown wolfdog, topping one hundred and twenty pounds—and the man beat a hasty retreat, shooting me a wide-eyed glance as he stumbled back inside.
I snorted, though I couldn’t blame the guy. He probably didn’t expect to find an apex predator roaming the swanky grounds. Coop’s inclusion on the guest list had nearly cost us the booking, but I’d made Kit hold firm until the owners agreed to allow our “dog” the run of the garden during the event. I was extremely glad they hadn’t asked for a picture first.
Coop nudged my arm with his wet nose. Pack comes.
A moment later Hi and Shelton ambled outside, with Ben a short step behind. Spotting Cooper and me by the bench, Hi boasted, “I told you so,” as they moved to join us.
“The band ignored your request for a reason,” Shelton said to Hi, tossing me a half-wave as he unbuttoned the neck of his tuxedo shirt. “Nobody wants to hear ‘YMCA,’ much less dance to it. It’s an objectively terrible song.”
“The Village People are a wedding staple!” Hi removed his jacket, raked a hand through his sweat-dampened brown hair. “Plus, I know how to read a room. That crowd was primed for some funky disco action.”
Shelton shook his head. Pointed to Ben without looking.
“Disco sucks,” Ben said.
Shelton nodded. “True story.”
“I’m surrounded by barbarians.” Hi glanced over at Cooper crouching in the grass next to me, and his brow formed a V. “Tell that mutt of yours to stop harassing my sweet angel. Banjo’s been in a terrible mood all weekend.”
“Your psycho cat is the problem.” Then I sent, And tell him yourself.
“Cujo over there started it.” Hi jabbed an index finger at the wolfdog. I saw you chase my darling kitty-cat into the dunes this morning. Quit being a bully.
Coop growled deep in his throat. Deceitful creature. Ambushed me.
“Coop has scratches on his face,” I snapped. “Your stupid cat likes to jump out of the bushes and slash him, then bolt into the woods. One of these days, she’s getting chomped.”
“She better not!” Hi warned, crossing his arms. “I didn’t rescue Banjo from homelessness just to serve her up as wolf chow. Feline rights, yo. Cats matter, too.”
Whatever my response might’ve been was preempted by the sound of breaking glass, followed by high-pitched laughter. A guitarist strummed a few chords, then the whole band picked back up.
“Reception’s picking up steam.” Ben absently kicked a pebble. “Long night ahead.”
Shelton plopped down onto the bench beside me. “If it’s all the same to you guys, I might just hang out here for a while. People in there are acting like fools.”
“Not me, gents.” Hi elbowed Ben, catching a dark look in return. “I know you’re spoken for, but this party is a target-rich environment. I wouldn’t want to let the ladies down. Player’s gotta play.”
Shelton covered his eyes. “You need to stop.”
“Seriously.” Ben knelt and scratched behind Coop’s ears.
Outside the garden wall, a car door opened and shut. Seconds later an iron gate rattled less than a dozen yards from where we were gathered. The bars swung open and a man in a white chef’s uniform entered the garden. He closed the gate quickly and hurried toward the building.
Coop lifted his head, tracking the stranger’s progress. Then he yapped sharply, popping to his feet with hackles raised.
The newcomer nearly jumped out of his skin. He backpedaled a few steps, eyes darting, trying to pierce the gloom.
“Coop!” I scolded, grabbing his collar and pulling him back.
It must’ve been an odd scene to the late-arriving chef. While my friends and I could see perfectly well in the moonlight, to him we were four teens skulking in a dark garden. With a sizeable wild animal, no less.
“Kids and a freaking wolf,” the man muttered in astonishment, but his body relaxed. He was tall and bulky, with close-set green eyes and bushy red hair poking from beneath his chef’s hat. The name BIGGS was stitched on to his pure white smock, which was fully buttoned up, as if we’d interrupted him mid-shift. Gathering himself, the man nodded our way, then st
rode briskly for the door and disappeared inside.
Coop barked again. Hauled me a step closer.
Easy, fella. I was surprised. It wasn’t often Coop menaced someone.
And yet . . . something about the cook’s reaction felt . . . off. Like he was relieved it was only us, despite the presence of a riled-up half-wild canine.
Was he avoiding someone? Everyone?
My earlier suspicions flared back to life. Dead flowers. Missing altar pins. And who was this random chef, showing up way late and sneaking in through a secluded garden gate?
The bulk of Corcoran’s security team had disbanded after the service, when the guests moved inside. Only the captain and two handpicked officers remained to “keep an eye on things.” And stuff their faces with free gourmet food, of course.
Coop gave a last snarl and settled back down. But I’d learned to trust his instincts.
I straightened, began chewing my bottom lip. “Huh.”
Ben’s head rose. “What is it?”
I scratched my cheek, thinking. “That guy was acting kinda weird, wasn’t he?”
Hi glanced at his watch. “Dinner ended almost an hour ago. If he’s on tonight’s catering crew, he missed the job. Maybe he’s hoping no one will notice.”
I frowned. “Could be.”
Ben was now eyeing the door. “But you don’t think so.”
“It’s just . . .” I shook my head, unsure.
I looked at Coop. That man? Was there something wrong?
Coop’s head tilted, as if he struggled with how to respond. Smell . . . off. Smell trouble.
The others heard our exchange. Frowning, Shelton removed his clear-lensed glasses. He could see perfectly now, but had no idea how to explain that to his parents. “Lots of things going wrong at this wedding, huh?”
“Yep.” Hi gave me a significant look. “If we’re laying it out there, I’m still baffled by the liquid in those vases. How could a florist accidentally use chemicals that kill flowers?”
Ben cleared his throat. “Yeah. So. I’ve been thinking about the pins.” He glanced up and met my eye. “I can’t see how they could fall out on their own. The whole point of their design is that they don’t fall out.”
