The Trouble With Black Cats and Demons
Page 8
Cary nodded a greeting to the still suspicious looking Officer Bacon. “I guess I should explain all this.”
She told both the cops and Sally the story she and Jon had agreed on. The two men had tried to drag Jon into a car, Cary had pulled up behind them and got out shouting and screaming waving her cellphone, threatening to call the police, the two men dropped Jon and ran away, and Cary and Jon decided it’d be safer for him not to go directly to his own house but to hers so he could call his mother.
Bacon had questions, of course.
“Why didn’t you call the police first, or at all? Why drive all the way here? Why not to the nearest police station? Why didn’t Jon use the cellphone his mother said he has? Why didn’t you use your phone to call the police, Ms. Redmond?”
She had answers to all of his questions worked out, but she was pretty sure Bacon didn’t believe her. At least, not entirely. With Jon backing her story, though, Bacon couldn’t find the cracks so he eventually had to relent. Cary intended to discuss the real story with Sally once the cops left. But none of them wanted to admit the more fantastical elements of the incident to police. Deacon’s part in the whole thing was never mentioned. He was “at the house waiting for Cary to get back from the store.”
Sally had more questions. Cary brewed a second pot of coffee which was half finished by the time Bacon and Sally were mollified. When the cops stood to leave, Sally stood to follow.
“Ms. Webber,” Cary said, “I was hoping we could talk a little longer. About Jon’s safety.”
Officer Bacon stopped halfway to the door. “Would you like us to stay, ma’am?” he asked Sally.
Clearly, he didn’t want to leave mother and son behind, despite Trevor’s assurances that all seemed well. Sally looked at Jon. She had him clamped to her side by a fiercely protective grip on his waist. The thirteen-year-old was a good half a foot taller than his mother.
“We should stay, mom,” Jon said, his voice low and quiet. He held her gaze, unspoken meaning passing between them.
After a moment, Sally nodded. “I could use another cup of coffee,” she said finally.
From the doorway, Deacon released a breath. He needed Trevor and his partner to leave. Now. Before his instincts got any harder to control. Trevor wasn’t causing the reaction—he was both happily married and a reasonable man. He was no threat to Cary, and he didn’t spark any haze of jealousy.
His partner, Calvin Bacon, was another story. He wasn’t sparking jealousy either. But he was dangerous. On some primitive, instinctive level, Deacon knew Bacon posed a threat to Cary.
Deacon had to exert a great deal of willpower not to show his internal struggle to Trevor, a man who knew him well enough to notice if something was wrong.
Trevor stood next to him, shaking his head at his still hesitating partner. “Bacon get out to the car so we can leave these fine people alone. I think everything’s under control here.”
Bacon left but not without a parting glare at Cary who was going to the kitchen for more coffee. Deacon managed not to growl at the retreating officer but just barely.
Trevor sighed and shrugged. “He’s new. Fresh from the academy not a month ago.”
“Uh huh,” Deacon muttered, forcing some of his muscles to relax.
Trevor narrowed his eyes. “You okay? You sound a little hoarse.”
Deacon cleared his throat. So much for keeping his emotions to himself. “Fine. Just had a busy couple of days.”
“Fair enough. So…” Trevor grinned. “You been with Ms. Redmond long? First I’ve heard of you having more than a passing affair with a woman. Or is that all this is?”
“No,” Deacon said, his gaze trained on Cary as she came back carrying a fresh cup of coffee for Sally. His pulse pounded hard and his leopard crawled closer to the surface, urging him to take what was his. He pulled in a deep breath which filled him with Cary’s vanilla and cinnamon scent. Everything around him seemed both sharper and less distinct at the same time. Except for his mate. She was the one crystal clear thing, the one thing that seemed to settle him.
He’d never felt like this before, edgy and panicky when she wasn’t in sight, irrationally delighted when she was nearby. He didn’t much like the sensation. It felt too much like he was losing his mind. But it was too late now. He’d been a goner the minute she tumbled into Sheldon’s bedroom. Once a leopard found his mate, he couldn’t stop needing her. He couldn’t turn away from her any more than he could stop eating and breathing.
“No,” he repeated quietly, “this is a lot more than passing. I’m going to marry her.” He caught his friend’s shocked expression from the corner of his eye and faced him again. “Cary doesn’t know yet.”
Trevor’s mouth hung open. He snapped it shut and glanced back at Cary. “Well. Then Sue Ann will be expecting you both over for dinner within the week. She’s gonna want to meet this woman of yours.”
“I’ll see how Cary’s schedule is. Might have to give us a few weeks.”
“Just so you don’t make Sue Ann wait too long. There’ll be hell to pay if you do.”
Deacon clapped Trevor on the shoulder as he stepped out the door.
But before leaving, Trevor turned back, his eyes cop flat. “That story of Cary’s had a few holes. It was a pretty tale, but it didn’t ring true.”
“She’s protecting me,” Deacon said. Trevor was one of the few humans who knew about Deacon’s true nature.
“You were there?” Trevor asked.
He didn’t respond. He held Trevor’s gaze, saw when suspicion became understanding. And then acceptance.
“Don’t worry about our report,” Trevor said, his crooked smile returning. “I’ll make sure there’s no follow up.” He glanced at Cary. “We’ll look forward to having you two around for dinner.”
Deacon let his shoulders relax. “I’ll be in touch.” He waited until Trevor and Bacon had driven away before he closed the door and rejoined Cary.
9
“You’re a bodyguard?” Sally’s expression was dubious, her slight frown and raised brows indicating obvious disbelief. “You?”
Cary resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “It’s what I do.”
“She’s awesome, mom. You should see her. She’s like a superhero.”
“Honey, I’m sure she’s no such thing.”
Cary pursed her lips. As with everything to do with Sally, this wasn’t going exactly as she’d intended. The woman already knew about her son’s talent, even if she didn’t like to acknowledge it. Maybe she’d be able to accept one more supernatural skill.
Because Cary was going to have to prove to Sally that she should allow Cary to continue protecting Jon. There was still a threat out there to the boy. Cary knew she couldn’t just walk away from him even if her bosses would have let her. But words alone weren’t doing much to convince his mother.
As she considered her options, Sally’s gaze suddenly sharpened and zeroed in on her in a way that made Cary want to squirm.
“I’ve seen you before. Recently.”
“I don’t think so…” Cary wracked her memory. Sally wasn’t the sort of woman you forgot after meeting her.
“Yes. I have. In the emergency room. Just a couple of days ago. You were in for cracked ribs and bruising.”
Damn. There was no way her injuries should be completely healed by now. Not if she was an ordinary woman. And as a nurse, Sally would be well aware of that.
If she hadn’t already decided Sally would need to know something of her “bodyguard skills,” this revelation would have left her with little choice.
Sally’s gaze darted to Deacon. “You brought her in. Did you cause her cracked ribs?”
Deacon’s brows snapped down and his mouth tightened. “Of course not,” he growled.
The expression on his face made Cary jump into the conversation. “He had nothing to do with that, Ms. Webber. That was job related.”
“Bodyguard? How are you now?”
“Fine.”
Cary nibbled her bottom lip, still hesitant to show Sally her skills. She couldn’t help having people see her magic at work—the people she protected pretty much had to see—but it wasn’t the kind of thing she talked about. This was why Superman and Spiderman had alter egos. It made their lives easier.
“I heal fast,” she told Sally.
“Handy in your job.”
“Very. Ms. Webber, when Jon called me a superhero… Well, that’s not exactly true, but it’s not entirely wrong either.”
“Cary?” Deacon said quietly.
She glanced at him “She won’t trust me to keep him safe unless she knows.”
“Knows what? What do I need to know?” Sally’s gaze danced back and forth between them.
“Deacon, can you help me with a little demonstration?”
He nodded and motioned her to lead the way. She glanced around the room for something that might cause damage to a person but wouldn’t break when thrown. She picked up one of her hardback novels.
“Stand over there.” She positioned Deacon with a blank wall and the hallway behind him. “Ms. Webber. I want you to throw this at him.” She handed Sally the book. “Try really hard to hit him with it. And try to cause damage.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
“You won’t. But you need to aim for him. Don’t pull the throw. Intend to hit him with that book.”
Sally shrugged and rose from the couch. Cary moved closer to Deacon but didn’t stand directly in front of him. She needed Sally to aim for Deacon and not get distracted and aim for her by mistake.
“Okay, Ms. Webber, get ready to lob that book.”
Deacon leaned close and whispered, “Are you going to get hurt doing this?”
“No.” She paused. “Well, probably not. But it’s just a book. It’s not like jumping in front of a high velocity bullet.”
“Your job gives me nightmares.”
She snorted. “Ready, Ms. Webber?”
Sally stood a few yards away, weighing the book, frowning. Then she looked at Deacon and her frown deepened. “I don’t want to hurt him. I’m a nurse. It goes against my nature.”
Cary decided not to remind Sally that she’d threatened to rip Cary’s throat out if Jon got hurt. Unfortunately, this wouldn’t work if Sally didn’t try to hit Deacon.
“Jon, do you think you could hit Deacon with a book?”
The kid flashed a suspiciously gleeful grin. “Oh, yeah. Here, mom, give me the book.”
Deacon’s eyebrows popped up, but he didn’t comment.
“Okay,” she said to Jon. “I need you to try really hard to hit Deacon. Aim for his chest.”
“That’s your neck and sternum level,” Deacon murmured.
“Do you want him aiming at your groin?”
“Fair point. But maybe for my stomach?”
“Fine. Jon aim for Deacon’s stomach. And no lower!”
Jon chuckled, pulled back and threw the book as hard as his skinny arm allowed. Which was pretty hard and fast. Cary waited until the book left Jon’s hands then stepped in front of Deacon. The book jerked a foot in front of her and turned sideways, hitting the wall beside Deacon and falling harmlessly to the floor.
Sally’s eyes widened. “How did you do that? I didn’t even see your hands move.”
“That’s because I didn’t use my hands.”
“But how…? How did that…?”
“See, I told you she was a superhero,” Jon said.
“And I noticed you aimed pretty low, kid,” Cary said.
He grinned, a real shit-eater grin. She shook her head. “Ms. Webber, as you can see, I’m very well equipped for taking care of Jon.”
“But how? How do you do that? Are you a witch or something?”
“No. Not a witch.” Funny how everyone asked the same question. “I’m just really good at protecting people.”
“What about bullets? What about…speeding cars?”
She spent the next ten minutes explaining her “skills” as best she could, down to how she did sometimes get hurt but never too badly. After a thorough grilling, Sally dropped onto the couch and stared at the coffee table for a long moment.
Finally, she looked up. “You think Jonathon needs to be protected longer. You really don’t think this was a crime of opportunity?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Cary met Jon’s gaze.
He shrugged. “Might as well tell her. She won’t let you help, otherwise.”
“It’s because of his talent, Ms. Webber. His ability to speak with animals. The men claimed their boss wanted to offer Jon a job and didn’t want Jon hurt.”
“Why would you believe they didn’t want to hurt Jon when they tried to drag him into a car?”
“That’s what one of the guys said to the other,” Jon answered, “when the other tried to fry us with a fireball.”
“What?” Sally lurched up from the couch again.
Cary glared at Jonathon. They’d left the fireball out of the earlier discussion. And she’d never intended to mention it. “Don’t worry about that, Ms. Webber. We weren’t in any danger.”
“He was a dragon shifter,” Jon said, ignoring Cary’s glare. “It was pretty awesome. Well, it was hot. But still, it was pretty cool. The fire just sort of wrapped around us and…”
“Jon! Enough. Your mother doesn’t need to…” Then she registered what he’d said. “A dragon shifter? Wow. I’ve never met one before. They’re pretty rare. How did you know?”
He shrugged. “Same as with…” He flicked a glare at Deacon, then said, “Same as with any other shifters. It’s just the way my talent works.”
Sally’s eyes widened with each sentence. “Jonathon…”
Her voice was such a quiet whisper Cary could barely hear her. It was the first time she’d seen the woman unable to screech, which was worrying.
“Mom. You know I talk to animals. You just don’t want to admit it. I’m different, okay. I’m not normal.”
“But… But animals are one thing. What you’re talking about isn’t possible. There aren’t dragons or werewolves or anything else.”
“Deacon’s one.”
“Jon, damn it,” Cary hissed. “That wasn’t your information to give out.”
Deacon dropped a gentle hand onto her shoulders. “It’s okay. I doubt Ms. Webber will turn me over to the authorities.”
“You’re a werewolf?” Sally looked about to pass out.
“No,” he assured her. “Not a wolf.”
“He’s a leopard,” Jon supplied, ignoring Cary’s outraged hushing noise.
“Leopard?”
Deacon half shrugged, half nodded.
“I don’t believe any of this.” Sally leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes.
“I know this is a little overwhelming. I wouldn’t have told you all of this at once.” She scowled at Jon again. “But it’s important for you to know that Jon is in trouble from the kind of people… It would be almost impossible for the police or a regular bodyguard to protect him from these people. I can.”
“For how long? And how much will it cost?”
“For as long as it takes. And no charge.”
“Everything costs something.”
“I don’t need to be paid. I have an alternate source of income.”
“You’re rich?”
“No. But there won’t be any money involved. Ms. Webber this is what I do. And I want to keep your son safe. It’ll be easier if you cooperate.”
“If I don’t?”
“Then I’ll follow him anyway and stay near enough to get between him and danger when and if it happens.”
“That’s stalking. I could have you arrested.”
“But you won’t.”
“If I agree, how will that change things?”
; “I can go into Jon’s classrooms with him if I have your permission to be there. I can stay much closer than I’d be able to otherwise.”
“You’d go to school with me? Cool.” Jonathon bounced on the couch. Then he launched himself up. “I’m gonna go check on the dogs.” They’d been locked in the backyard before the cops and Sally had arrived.
Once he’d disappeared into the kitchen, Sally asked, “What would you tell the school?”
“That I’m a bodyguard and Jonathon is under threat of kidnapping. The details of the case can’t be discussed, but I need to be able to keep him in sight.”
“You think they’ll believe you?”
“I think they’ll believe you.”
Sally fell quiet and laid her head on the couch back, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment, she said, “I’ve always known about his… That he was different. Even when he was too young to talk properly he had an affinity with animals that wasn’t quite…normal. He’s more comfortable around animals than people.”
She sighed and closed her eyes. “I’ve been so afraid. Afraid someone would find out and throw him into some laboratory to study like a rat. Afraid he’d never fit in. Afraid he’d just leave one day and never come back. He’s done that before. I mean, he’s always come back. But sometimes, when things get hard for him at school, he runs to the woods and stays there for days. Terrifies me every time.”
Cary was starting to understand why Sally was so protective of her son. Keeping him safe from himself was hard enough, nonetheless protecting him from all the dangers of the outside world.
“I worry about how he’ll use this thing of his. He’s getting stronger the older he gets. Leaps and bounds since he hit puberty. He never mentioned werewolves before, but… But he can make animals do things now. He couldn’t do that before. Only talk to them. Now, he can… I don’t know. He doesn’t force them. That’s what he says anyway. He never forces them. But he…he talks them into doing things for him. I’m not always sure if they want to. I just keep hoping… I keep hoping he’s a good enough boy not to do anything bad. He’s still so young. And boys are hard. You can screw them up so easily. I have to work such long hours. He’s alone a lot. I don’t know what to do, don’t know how to help him. I do the best I can. I tried to raise him to be a good boy. I love him so much.”