Paranormal Talent Agency Episodes 4-6

by Heather Silvio

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Catherine called Olivia, who agreed to meet us at Catherine’s condo, only a few blocks from Barbara’s office. Robin snagged a parking spot just outside the building. I glanced at the sky as we hurried across the street. Dark billowy clouds overhead threatened rain. I sniffed and decided it smelled like rain. Maybe we’d get a small squall. We entered the foyer and Catherine waved at the guard… doorman… security. I wasn’t sure what she called him.

  The elevator brought us to the 20th floor and Catherine led us down a short hallway to her door. “Does anybody want a drink?” Um, yes, we did. “Have a seat while I grab them.”

  Robin and I sat at the wooden dining table. I swiveled my head, taking in the space. Just a studio, but high ceilings and amazing floor-to-ceiling windows made it seem bigger. I loved my little house, but this wasn’t too bad either.

  Catherine set wine glasses in front of us. “All I have is white right now. Hope that’s okay.”

  I lifted my glass. “A toast. To figuring out Catherine’s importance and keeping me alive.” Our glasses clinked. A knock sounded. “Perfect timing. That must be Olivia.”

  Catherine hopped up and went to the door to let Olivia in. Catherine grabbed a glass of wine for the archangel on the way back to the table.

  “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” I started. “Random question first. How come you didn’t just materialize in here?”

  Olivia laughed and shook her head. “That would be rude. This is a private home and nobody is in danger.”

  “Not at the moment, anyway,” I quipped.

  “What can I do for you ladies?” Olivia asked.

  All eyes turned to Catherine who toyed with a cuticle. If she kept that up, she’d be a bloody mess. She chugged a large swallow of wine before answering. “We’ve met with the Witches Council and Mayor Barbara Knollman to gather more information. We’ve confirmed some of what you told us. There’s something different enough about me to mess with the magical energy of the city.” Catherine chugged another swallow of wine. “I’m going to have another run-in with Rowan, and neither of us will be happy about it.” She looked at me and Robin. “But we aren’t getting any details.” Frustration saturated her voice. “We aren’t getting anything we can take action on.”

  “So, you decided to try me again?”

  “Yes,” Catherine said.

  “I’ve already told you everything that I can,” Olivia reminded us.

  “That’s not good enough,” Catherine snapped, and my wide eyes met Robin’s. I didn’t think I’d ever heard Catherine get angry before.

  Olivia’s eyes darkened for a moment, then they cleared and she smiled. “I’m afraid it is what it is.”

  “More riddles.” Catherine’s hand tightened around the stem of her wine glass. Robin reached to place her hand over Catherine’s.

  “Everyone is doing the best they can,” she assured the upset empath.

  “Are they though?” I asked. Catherine had a point. I stared at the archangel. “Please give a straight answer. Do you know something you’re not sharing? Or are you really in the dark as much as we are?”

  Olivia reflected my stare. She didn’t answer.

  My brief show of nerves faltered with her continued silence. She couldn’t send me to hell for being difficult. Could she?

  Olivia’s expression softened. “I like you, Liz.”

  “Thanks?”

  “You never hesitate to say what you’re thinking.”

  I shrugged, ears burning with the compliment. Or at least, I assumed it was a compliment.

  “I wouldn’t say I’m as in the dark as the three of you, no. Neither would I say that I know exactly what’s going to happen. Timelines can be tricky. It’s not always clear what will happen in one versus another.”

  My head throbbed. I held up a hand to stop her. “Are we a primary timeline?”

  Olivia chuckled. “For you, you are.”

  “Riddles again,” Robin sighed.

  “Ladies. I’m not trying to be difficult. It’s as I said before. Based on what I can see, you are on the right track.”

  “How is this a track? We don’t know where we’re going,” Catherine spat out.

  Olivia turned her speculative gaze on me again and I squirmed. “Interesting.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re about to get a very clear direction.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked uneasily. “The last time we got a clear direction, Rowan attacked us.” My eyebrows shot up. “That’s it, isn’t it? Rowan’s going to attack us again.” Robin gasped. Catherine chugged more wine.

  Olivia shook her head. “That I cannot answer.”

  “I’m right,” I crowed. “I know I am.” I sobered. “Although I don’t know why I’m happy about that. Last time, she nearly turned us into barbecue,” I groused.

  Olivia laughed. “That is all I have for you. Good luck.”

  Our responses were said into the void as Olivia winked out of Catherine’s dining area.

  “That was fun,” Catherine mumbled.

  “No, this is good,” I disagreed excitedly. “We just have to be ready.”

  “I think we need to make sure the two of you aren’t ever alone,” Robin said.

  Catherine and I exchanged glances. We nodded our acceptance.

  “I’ll stay with Catherine for tonight,” Robin said, “after we bring Liz to her date with Tony.” She grinned.

  Mention of my date released tension in the room, for everybody except me. I responded with a tight smile. Was I making a mistake? The journalist in me said no, because I’d find out about another supernatural being. The woman in me… I decided not to think about that just yet.

  “What happened to supernatural-beings-and-humans-can’t-have-a-future?” Catherine teased.

  “Have you decided whether to accept Alex’s proposal?” I responded with a wink.

  Robin snorted. Catherine reddened

  “Okay, this has passed the point of usefulness,” Robin concluded, though with a smile. “Liz, are you ready to see Tony?”

  I stood with a sharp nod. “Yes, I am. Let’s go.”

  My mind swam as we took the elevator to the foyer. Kaleidoscope emotions filled me. Excitement. Dread. Elation. Trepidation. Desire. My heart hammered in my chest. I might have had mixed emotions about humans and supernaturals, but one stood out above the others. Longing. The intensity surprised me, but the thought of Tony’s protective nature, sweet personality, and, of course, hotness brought out such a sense of longing. I could only hope the evening lived up to my internal hype.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tony stood outside Fleming’s, looking suave, but uncomfortable, his broad shoulders trapped in a dark, pin-striped suit, no tie. We’d had enough time, and Robin and Catherine had been willing, to swing by my not-exactly-on-the-way house so I could change. Now I was glad I did. Robin pulled her car alongside the front and I opened the door.

  “Looking good, Tony,” she called out to him. He smiled, though his eyes quickly found mine.

  “Thanks, Robin, Catherine. I’ll see you later.” I closed the door on their quiet chuckling.

  “You look wonderful.” I walked to his side, looked up into his brown eyes. The heat between us was obvious.

  “You’re beautiful,” he responded, his gaze drinking in my fitted, knee-length, purple dress showcasing my curves. “Are you hungry?”

  “Oh, yes,” I breathed out.

  Tony waggled his eyebrows at me and I laughed, breaking the sensual tension. “Let’s go in, then,” he said. He held the door open so I could enter.

  After giving his name to the hostess, we followed the young woman in a black cocktail dress to a booth on the opposite side of the dimly lit restaurant. We slid onto the red vinyl, maybe leather, seats around the table. Dinnerware and cutlery, including a rather large steak knife, sat atop the crisp white tablecloth. The hostess
assured us our waitress would be right over.

  Heat radiated off of Tony. I didn’t think it was just attraction. He seemed to run hot. As in, a high temperature. My silly thoughts led me to giggle.

  “What has you so entertained?”

  Let’s get to it. “You. I was thinking that your body temperature sits higher than most.”

  “Interesting observation,” he responded. “Why do you suppose that might be?”

  I pondered the question. “Because of whatever being you are?”

  He nodded. “Have you guessed what being yet?”

  “Nope. I’ve thought about your intensity, your size, your hearing. Your smell.” I inhaled deeply, enjoying the earthy scent of him. “Your scent.” His eyes dilated and I fidgeted.

  “That doesn’t suggest anything specific?” he teased.

  A thought niggled my brain but left before I could grab it. I shook my head.

  “What do you smell?”

  “Floral, unspecified, though. Earthy, like after a rain.”

  He tilted his head.

  “What?”

  “Most people can’t smell what you’re smelling.”

  “Why do you suppose I can?”

  “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “But, a deal’s a deal. You met me for dinner, so I’ll tell you what I am. Though I hadn’t thought we’d jump right in with it,” he admitted.

  I laughed. “I’m a journalist for a reason. I want to know everything, and I don’t wait very well.” Tony joined my laughter for a moment. He broke eye contact and reached for his water glass. His hand trembled. “Are you nervous?” I asked softly.

  He drank half the glass in a large gulp. Set the glass back down and smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles in the tablecloth. “I am,” he said. His eyes met mine. The naked fear there shocked me. “I haven’t gone on a date in a long time. But, there’s something about you.”

  “There is?”

  “You’re intelligent, beautiful, tenacious, stubborn.”

  “Those last aren’t always considered positives.”

  “I don’t want an easy, passive woman by my side.”

  “If you want a challenge, I’m sure I’m up for that,” I quipped.

  “I don’t want to scare you off. Especially knowing your concerns…”

  “We can take it one day at a time.” And I meant it. “What are you?”

  “I’m a shifter.”

  That took a second to process. “A werewolf?”

  Tony belly laughed, drawing the eyes of couples at nearby tables. He held up a hand in apology, leaned in closer to me. “Not every shifter is a wolf. Try another animal.”

  My brain couldn’t think of another animal. But a shifter made perfect sense with what I’d seen so far. A realization hit. “That’s how you could hear me at your café.”

  “I told you I have excellent hearing.”

  He waited for me to figure it out. “Tell me what you are,” I begged.

  “I’m a were-panther.”

  My eyes widened. “That’s so cool.” I reached out to cover his hand with my own, enjoying the body heat combined with the heat of attraction. “Is that what I smell? A sleek black kitty.”

  “Panther,” he corrected with a wink.

  “I’d love to see that one day,” slipped out, and he tensed.

  “Maybe one day,” he allowed.

  Discrete coughing drew our attention; the waitress had arrived. Tony ordered for both us – steak well done for me, run-it-through-a-warm-room for him. I wrinkled my nose at his choice and he gave me a one-shoulder shrug.

  “It tastes better to me.”

  The waitress left.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Italy.”

  “You have such a slight accent. I couldn’t place it.”

  “I’ve been in the US for some time.”

  Nerves fluttered. “How long?”

  Tony chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m not as old as some of your friends.”

  “Some of them are hundreds of years old.” My mind still had trouble processing that. I wasn’t even thirty yet. I couldn’t imagine Mia’s over 200 years. Or Barbara’s 400, I think it was, maybe 500 years.

  “I’m not in the plurals yet,” he said.

  My eyebrows rose. “100 years old?”

  “Thereabouts.”

  I shook my head. “It’s seriously not fair how you supernaturals get to live forever but still look so darn young.”

  “I won’t live forever. Shifters aren’t immortal.”

  “I guess that’s a good thing,” I responded with a nervous chuckle. “However, I’ll still grow old while you continue to look like this.” I waved my hand up and down. There was a teasing quality to my comment, but Tony didn’t miss the harsh truth underneath.

  “It’s no different than some of your other friends’ relationships: Catherine and Alex, Evie and Ryan, Mia and Jacob. It’s like one of them said. All relationships have challenges. This would just be one specific to a human-supernatural relationship.”

  At his repeated use of the word relationship, I grew more certain that I wanted that with him. His eyes dilated again, and he placed his other hand on mine so it was sandwiched between his.

  “How do you do that?” I asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Seem to know what I’m thinking?”

  “I don’t. Know what you’re thinking.”

  “Yet, your responses suggest you do,” I countered.

  He gave a lazy smile. “Your body tells me what you’re thinking.”

  My body? A flush crept up my neck.

  “Like right now.”

  “What do you see?” I whispered.

  He shook his head, eyes holding mine. “Your physical reactions are easy for me to sense. I can hear everything from the tiniest change in your breath to the racing of your heart. Smell the release of hormones.”

  I pulled my hand from his and sat back. “You can smell me?”

  He looked perplexed. “How is that any different from when you said you liked my scent?”

  Another nervous chuckle bubbled to the surface. “Oh, right. That makes sense.” I gave a shy smile. “I think I understand more now. Tell me about Italy.”

  “Those pictures in my café?”

  “Yes?”

  “I took those as a teenaged shifter sixty years ago.”

  My mouth dropped open and I snapped it shut. “Tell me everything.”

  And he did. Tony regaled me with stories of his youth in Italy, his parents’ decision to move to America, their decision ten years ago to return to Italy. When our steaks arrived, we paused long enough to scarf the delectable food. Soon the restaurant was closing and it was time to leave.

  Tony stood, offered a hand to assist me out of the booth. His warm skin caressed mine with just this bare touch. We held hands traversing the restaurant, releasing only when he held the door open again for us to leave.

  I suddenly laughed and he looked at me askance. “I just realized that Robin gave me a ride here, so I need to call her for a ride back.”

  “You know I can give you a ride.”

  “I know.” I felt like a nervous teenager after a first date. Would he kiss me, should I let him? But, with a grown-up twist. Would I, should I, invite him in? Except I was staying at Catherine’s tonight, so that wasn’t even an option. Confusing disappointment flooded through me.

  Tony stepped closer, used a finger to lift my chin. “Liz, relax. We can go as slow as you want. You don’t have to invite me in.” His eyes danced with merriment and I shook my head.

  “That’ll take some getting used to,” I muttered. A smile broke across my face. “But, thank you. I knew you were a gentleman. And I like you, so…”

  Tony leaned down.

  My lips parted to accept his kiss—

  “Time’s running out,” a harsh voice interrupted.

  Tony and I sprang
apart before our lips touched. My brain, already getting a workout this evening, had trouble comprehending what I saw. “Rowan?”

  “Elizabeth. I told you what would happen if you didn’t stop investigating. Yet, you spent all day doing exactly that.”

  To my surprise, the ghost sounded exasperated by me. Well, she wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last.

  “I’m on a date, Rowan,” I pointed out, like I could reason with her.

  “I’m aware of that.” Her blue eyes darkened. “Since concern for yourself or my future family didn’t seem to make a dent, I’m trying a new approach.”

  Fear shot through me. “What do you mean?”

  Rowan dematerialized and then rematerialized, next to Tony. We turned to her in surprise. Rowan wrapped her arms around Tony, who growled. Just like a panther would.

  Tony’s skin rolled, the bones moving beneath. As if they were trying to reshape themselves. His brown eyes flashed an impossible shade of green. Hair sprouted then retracted along his limbs, his face. He growled again, his body becoming almost liquid with the changes he was trying to force. I realized he was trying to shift just as Rowan shot me a triumphant glare. The two became translucent and vanished.

  “Tony!” I screamed into the dark night.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Tony was gone. Rowan had taken him. These thoughts swirled like a maelstrom in my mind. What was I supposed to do? The sound of a door opening drew my attention. I turned back toward the restaurant. A middle-aged man with a trim beard stood there, mouth agape.

  “Are you okay, ma’am? Did I just see… what I thought I saw?”

  I blinked, focused on the man. “If you just saw a ghost kidnap my date, then yes. Yes, you did.”

  If it was possible for the man’s mouth to fall open even more, it did with my explanation. “Do you need help?” He asked the question, but the terror in his eyes made it clear he wouldn’t know what to do if I said yes.

  “No, thank you.” I approached him, slowing when he tensed. “There’s nothing you can do,” I assured him. “Go back inside. I know who to call.”