by RJ Blain
“I can think of a few candidates. I’ll pillage this one for the few parts that are still good and have the rest salvaged to help pay for truck parts.”
My boss heaved a sigh, shook his head, and returned to his office.
The instant I returned to the hotel, making it only a few steps inside the lobby, Daniel pounced, caught me in his arms, and buried his face in my hair. My virus settled, content with his display. Unless I kept a close eye on him—and my feelings—I’d run a high risk of falling for him, too.
“You smell like grease.” He laughed. “What did you do at work today? Dismantle your truck? I thought you’d come home smelling like grass.”
Home was a funny word, one I hadn’t used since the wildfire, and it woke pain deep in my chest. To cover my dismay, I replied, “I fiddled with the boss’s mulcher. I also convinced him to ditch a relic of a mower. He wants me to do more work on the machines, and I’ll even get a raise.”
When I hadn’t been able to access my bank account, wages were like everything else in my life, a dangerous pipe dream of hope.
“There’s plenty of work I can do in the area if working as a landscaping mechanic makes you happy. There’s a few good colleges in the area, too. You wanted to be a nurse in high school.”
Daniel remembered? I’d all but forgotten. The truth stung even more than the idea of having a home again. “Lycanthropes can’t be doctors or nurses.”
“That’s not true anymore. The laws were changed a few years ago. There are enough lycanthropes around now that they need doctors and nurses, and there are plenty of people willing to take the risk of having a talented lycanthrope working on them. You can become a nurse if you want, or you can choose to nurse broken machines and play nurse with me.” To make it clear what he wanted, Daniel pulled away and waggled his eyebrows.
I gave credit where credit was due: Daniel had paid more attention than I thought possible, and he tried to lighten the burdens of my infection with his special brand of humor. “You remembered I wanted to be a nurse?”
“I remember everything about you, Emily. You used to dip your fries in milkshakes but only when you thought no one was watching. You don’t like pizza, but you ate it anyway because you didn’t want anyone making fun of you. You adore berries, but your friends would steal yours because they knew you wouldn’t tell them no. And cupcakes? You’d do a lot more than crack Brad in the face with a crowbar for a cupcake. You liked almond clementine ones with raspberry frosting the best. And if I told you I’ve acquired a raspberry mascarpone cake just for you, would you accept the ring I’ve been holding onto ever since the day I realized you’re the only one I want to be my wife and mate?”
I had two choices: I could laugh or cry.
In reality, I did a little of both. “When did you decide that?”
“We were thirteen, and you’d gotten into a fight at school because someone was picking on one of the other kids. My parents helped me pick it out so I’d shut up, and neither appreciated how expensive the one I wanted was. I’ve since paid them back.” He chuckled and gave me a push towards the elevators. “They were holding it for me while I was traveling looking for you. It arrived yesterday.”
It filtered in that he might’ve been serious about the ring and the cake. “There’s really raspberry mascarpone cake?”
Ever since I’d discovered how well the berries and the cheese played with each other, I’d developed a fetish for cakes with those flavors.
“There is. I hired a baker to make you one when I couldn’t find any within a hundred miles.”
I couldn’t imagine how much a custom cake cost. “But why?”
Daniel herded me into the elevator and pressed the button for our floor. “You deserve it, that’s why. You deserve to enjoy life again, and I want to be the man who you enjoy it with every step of the way. We’re meant to be, and I intend to work hard to prove that to you.”
I believed him. He’d kill an old friend because I asked it of him. “You have nothing to prove, Daniel.”
Even I could see that.
“You’ll take my ring without the cake, then?”
“If there’s no raspberry mascarpone cake in my immediate future, you might live to regret it. That cake better not be a lie.”
He grinned at me. “I may be a lycanthrope male, but I’m not stupid enough to get between a woman and her cake.”
The cake wasn’t a lie, and I began to drool the instant I spotted it displayed on the dresser. Plump raspberries covered the entire thing. A second box of equal size waited beside it, closed and hiding its secrets.
“What’s in the other box?”
“An obscene number of cupcakes, several of which are also raspberry mascarpone. My plan is to feed you into a state of euphoric complacency, after which I’ll attempt my proposal. I expect to be rejected. It took my father three years of daily food bribes and proposals to convince my mother to marry him.”
If Daniel’s father was anything like him, his mother was insane for resisting him for so long.
“That would be a lot of cake. I’m not sure I could eat an entire cake and a box of cupcakes every day for three years.”
“It’s my job to vary my offerings for your enjoyment.”
I licked my lips and contemplated how best to approach devouring the entire cake, which would likely lead to misery and regret later. I didn’t care.
He’d gotten me an entire raspberry mascarpone cake, and I meant to enjoy every bite of it.
However, I also recognized if I didn’t rein him in, I’d be eating entire cakes for dinner until I agreed to marry him. “I’ll be expecting a lifetime of small treats. A cupcake is a small treat. That said, I think you’re confused. Marrying you is a base requirement for our plan to rid the Earth of Brad. If I don’t marry you, there’s no wedding, and if there’s no wedding, there’s no murder. I’ll accept future culinary bribes, but they’re not actually necessary.” I considered that. “Mostly. I’ll expect at least one raspberry mascarpone cake a year.”
There. I could have my cake and remove Daniel’s ridiculous requirements to feed me into oblivion.
“You’re supposed to make this difficult on me.”
“I am. You have to wait until the wedding night for what you really want. No dead-beat Brad in a casket, no wedding night. I fully intend to enjoy this cake, and I’ll even pretend I’m surprised when you propose and show me the ring.”
“You don’t need to act surprised. I’m just worried you won’t like it.”
“Let me guess: you’ve been worried about this since we were thirteen.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Ring first, then cake. And I’ll be expecting you to feed me every bite.”
“You’re definitely an owl,” he complained. “Only an owl would be so evil.”
I allowed myself a smile. “If we’re both intolerably frustrated, we’ll work together to kill Brad faster.”
“Have I ever told you I love how viciously dedicated you are?”
“Not particularly.”
“Well, I do.”
One of us was crazy. I just wasn’t sure who.
At thirteen, Daniel had understood more about women—or at least me—than far older men. Other women might turn their nose up at the brown diamond, but I adored its shifting colors and endless possibilities. I’d forgotten how much of my childhood I’d spent chasing after impossible dreams.
The unknown had fascinated me.
“Do you like it?”
So many hopes and dreams hung on his question and my answer. A thousand little truths and shifts in my perspective transformed me more than my virus had. The ring and its single, precious stone meant more than what he’d paid for it so long ago.
Once upon a time, I’d complained about clear quartz for holding no surprises. I’d felt the same about diamonds.
In the depths of the solitaire, while it wasn’t a large store, were a sea of endless colors and possibilities.
Eve
n then, he’d listened to me.
“It’s beautiful.” As he feared, it didn’t fit; it wouldn’t without a jeweler’s intervention, although at the rate Daniel kept feeding me, I’d have to have the ring adjusted once a week.
If he kept aiming his most brilliant smile in my direction, I’d go blind. “Really?”
“I never liked clear stones.”
“I remember. You couldn’t stand how you could see right through them. No depth. No mystery. I wanted to give you a mystery you could wear, but I wanted it to be something meant to last, so I wanted a diamond.”
No wonder he’d driven his parents to the brink of sanity while attacking their wallets. “You succeeded.”
“I hope you realize feeding you every bite of that cake is going to test my restraint and resolve, right?”
I set the ring back in its box on the dresser. “You told me to test you, so I am. You know my demands. Please don’t disappoint me—and let me help.”
“Let you help? Are you kidding? I’m going to watch and help you dispose of the body. Oh, and plan the wedding. How does me handling planning the wedding while you commit the murder sound? Does two months from today sound good to you?”
Was two months enough to plan a murder? I hoped so. “Sure.”
“Excellent. Now, how about some cake?”
Did he really think I’d say no?
Chapter Six
There were two types of murder: spontaneous and premeditated. Most premeditated murders only included a few—if any—accomplices. In a twist of fate, or perhaps a sign Brad was even filthier than I believed, we had an entire army of people willing to help me on my mission to set Miranda free from the scumbag lycanthrope.
It hadn’t taken me long to find four suitable wolf suitors eager to help her pick up the pieces following his death. I’d lost count of the number of interested lycanthropes, but only six had fit Miranda’s wish list for a perfect man, and something about two of them rubbed me the wrong way. Daniel thought something was off about them, too, which made it easier to cut them from the list.
To expose them to Miranda, I suggested Daniel add them to his wedding party. I’d make Miranda my bridesmaid-of-murder and let nature run its course. To throw them together as often as possible, I turned into a bridezilla who demanded frequent outings to restaurants.
Unlike other bridezillas, I paid for everything, dipping into the money I had earned over the years. Daniel sulked, but he recognized I needed to pay my own way so he only gave me a little trouble in the evenings when trying to come up with his latest treat to keep my interested focused solely on him.
I enjoyed the game almost as much as the cupcakes and other treats he provided.
I began my planning with the help of the six cops who were willing to give theoretical advice on how to make bodies disappear with little hope of recovery. To my delight, mulching the slimy bastard, lighting him on fire, breaking the machine into a million little pieces, and dumping the remains in a remote place stood a strong chance of working.
Brad’s bones and teeth would go into the rapids a mile from the wedding site, a location only Daniel and a chosen few knew. Miranda had the job of luring Brad to the site. My job was to show up in a pretty dress, accept the crowbar Daniel offered me, one he’d painted white and decorated with ribbons, enjoy the mayhem, murder, and general festivities, and leave happily married to Daniel.
I kept getting stuck on the happily married to Daniel part of things. My virus adored him. He walked into the room, and it calmed, quieted, and basked in the glow of his presence. I should’ve resented him for his part in transforming me into a lycanthrope, but my hatred had already run its course and focused on the one man who’d been truly guilty of the crime.
Day by day, my resentment melted away, and if not for Miranda, I might’ve even been willing to forgive Brad for his role in changing my life.
My virus understood what I was growing to accept: for better or worse, Brad’s actions had paved the way for Daniel to become a serious part of my life, and he wouldn’t have had to battle my dreams of becoming a nurse before the laws had changed.
I’d had a chance to see life without him in it, and the longer I spent with him, the more I wanted him as a constant, a fixture in my life I could rely upon when I got tired of fighting all the time.
Without Brad’s interference, I might’ve remained stuck with the resentment of losing my childhood dreams.
To prove I could become anything I wanted despite being infected with lycanthropy, Daniel went out of his way to find schools with night courses, and some of them openly admitted lycanthropes to their classes, specializing in treating those with the infection.
He’d told me the truth.
I could pick up the pieces I thought broken beyond reclamation if I wanted. I could also choose to stick with doctoring cranky mowers and other landscaping equipment. Some doors had closed, but others had opened, and some I might be able to open again with some work.
It left me with a lot to think about.
A week after returning to work and confirming I’d marry him at a time, date, and location of Daniel’s choosing, I took the initiative to find an apartment for us on a month-to-month lease. Then, once I had the keys in hand, I invited Daniel into my domain.
Sharing a bed with him tested my patience, gave my virus ideas, and drove Daniel crazy. According to my nose, the instant we escaped our wedding ceremony and reception, I’d learn a lot about what happened when an eager lycanthrope finally got let off his leash.
I doubted my poor wedding dress would survive.
As I had rather bloody plans, I actually had three wedding dresses: one to wear when I took my white, ribbon-wrapped crowbar to Brad’s face and beat him until he’d never bother anyone again, one to marry Daniel in, and one for the reception.
For some reason, everyone expected me to ruin all three dresses, so there was even a forth one kicking around somewhere, but from my understanding of the situation, the only one who’d see me in it was Daniel, I’d wear it only long enough for him to take me out of it, and it would probably die a terrible death like the others. I found the whole thing puzzling, but Miranda had made the mistake of mentioning the fourth dress’s absurd amount of lace, capturing Daniel’s undivided attention.
A week before the wedding, Daniel ditched work and followed me around like a lovesick puppy. According to Jacob, until we were safely mated, I’d have a living shadow determined to keep other males away.
I wondered what my boss would think of the pest loitering around while I worked.
I didn’t have to wait long. Within five minutes of arriving, he made his appearance, looking over Daniel from head to toe. “I see you haven’t ditched the pest yet, Emily.”
I rolled my eyes and started my check of the mowers. “I already told you I’m taking two weeks off starting Friday. To marry the pest. And do whatever it is newly married people do with two weeks off work.”
“We’re going on a honeymoon,” Daniel reminded me. “We’re going to Europe. You even got your passport expedited so we would go.”
“I’d agreed to let you plan the wedding. I didn’t sign any contract about some two-week whats-it to Europe.”
“Honeymoon.”
“We’re not wolves. I have no interest in moons.” I poked and prodded at the first mower in the lineup to cover my smirk. “I don’t mind honey, though.”
“If it contains sugar, you’ll do everything short of selling your soul to the devil,” Daniel muttered.
“I haven’t married you yet,” I countered.
“Are you saying I’m the devil?”
“I’m saying I’ve never seen you and the devil in the same place before.”
“Have you even seen the devil?”
I shrugged. “My point still stands.”
“I can’t tell if you like him or hate him,” my boss muttered.
“He can’t, either.” I grinned and stopped goofing off so I could have everything done b
efore the rest of my co-workers arrived. “And you can’t run any of the machines over him, Pete. I like this specific lycanthrope. I’ve been informed he’s going to be addled and follow me around until I actually marry him, so he’s going to be puttering around here getting in the way all week.”
“Leash him in a corner if he gets in the way.”
“He’s not a wolf. He doesn’t need to be leashed.” A cage might work, if I could find one big enough for an owl his size. He’d shifted for me several times, and I had a lot of growing to do to catch up. On the other hand, I enjoyed being able to hide under his wing at my leisure.
“I figured not. You’d eat a poor wolf alive. You’re far too solitary to be a wolf. You also don’t whine.”
Daniel chuckled. “She’s a lot flightier than a wolf.”
I scowled. “That comment supports my certainty I’ve never seen you or the devil in the same room together.”
“Admit it, Emily. You appreciate my refined sense of humor.”
“Refined? You’re punning me.” The bastard was even punning me using our species in front of my boss.
I wanted to believe only death would do, but death was too merciful of a fate for him. No, I’d spend the rest of our lives working on suitable payback.
“You’re just happy because you know owl be yours forever.”
“You’re really the devil. You’re not going to hell. You run the place. That was awful.”
Daniel grinned at me. “Admit it, Emily. You like it. You also like knowing I’ve already ordered something special for us for dinner tonight. I even accounted for the time needed to head home so you can pretty yourself for our outing.”
I needed to have a long talk with my stomach and its inability to resist Daniel’s offerings. I also needed to have a long talk with him about his belief I could be prettied up without anything short of gargantuan effort. “We’re going out tonight?”