Business With Pleasure (Empathy in the Preternatural PNW Book 2)

by Olivia R. Burton

  “Not funny!” I said. Behind me, Sonny rang his bells, and I turned back to him. “Don’t you start!”

  All the back and forth was making me sick, so I moved to flop onto the couch. Chloe followed and dropped down next to me, handing me my phone. I eyed it as if it was radioactive but reluctantly took it. I gestured to the chair between Owen and Sonny’s cage.

  “Sit, make yourself comfy.”

  He glanced around the room as if looking for traps, then perched at the end of the seat, leaning his elbows on his knees. I snorted.

  “We’re not going to hurt you.”

  “Yes, but as soon as he’s here, I want to go. I’m behind schedule on this and I’d like to get it done as quickly as possible.”

  “Well, hopefully this plan works better than your last one.”

  “The problem wasn’t the plan,” Owen said and I felt a spark of irritation pop off him. His voice remained calm, his face neutral. “You were concentrating on Stan, so it led us to him.”

  “So it’s my fault?”

  “Yep,” Chloe said, patting my knee. “You’re just lucky he was actually in danger and we didn’t just get taken for a ride.”

  “And we can’t use the thing again?”

  “Nope, one time only.”

  I moaned, not sure if I felt guilty or not. If I’d concentrated on Norma, we’d have her, but not Stan. I actually preferred knowing Stan was safe. It was selfish and gross to consider his life more important than those of the strangers I had likely put in danger by leaving Norma out in the world, but I could probably blame that on human nature.

  “Well,” I said. “How do we get him to take us to her?”

  “We ask.”

  “That can’t be it.”

  Owen laughed, nodded. “Like Madeline said, it may take him some time, but he’ll find her.”

  “Then you kill her?” I asked, unsure how I felt about that, despite all that had happened. I’d been around two corpses the last week. A third, however deserved death might be, didn’t sound appealing.

  “At this point, yes,” Owen said. I bit my lip.

  “And you’re just cool with that?”

  “She’s a nutter, G,” Chloe explained. I turned to her. “There isn’t really a place to put creatures like her when they can’t control themselves. Madeline’s a functional member of society—probably not just human society, either. She may be dangerous, but she controls herself. Norma is killing at random, drawing too much attention.”

  “We’re not going to torture her,” Owen added as if that should make everything better. “We’re just going to kill her.”

  “We?” I demanded.

  “You don’t have to go if you don’t want.” Owen smiled, and there was something sinister about it. “The wolf and I can go alone.”

  “No,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “I got Mel into this. I’ll...what can I do?”

  “You can be bait,” Owen said conversationally.

  “Oh, come on.”

  “We’ll get you more ice cream,” Chloe offered.

  "I don't..." I trailed off, realizing I couldn't lie and say I didn't want more ice cream. That would be crazy. But bait? I had to be bait? Suddenly, their plan from before didn't seem so bad. "What if I just stay in the van?"

  ##

  In a surprising reversal of roles, Chloe and Owen were waiting in the van when Mel arrived.

  They’d explained the plan to me, and it seemed simple enough. They hadn’t gone into detail about things like—oh, say, how they were going to kill Norma—but they’d assured me that Mel and I would be safe. Now I had one task: convince Mel to take me back to Norma, so they could follow along, sneak in behind us, and take her out. Chloe’s suggestion had been that I offer myself up as a snack, and when I’d questioned the logistics of that plan, she’d pointed out that I was essentially offering myself to Mel as part of a threesome.

  I’d stopped questioning her then and considered throwing up.

  I was still feeling the nausea as I stood just inside my door, hand on the knob, and took a courage-boosting breath. Mel rang the bell a second time, and I swore silently to myself. Finally I opened the door to find a sight I had not expected.

  Mel stood there looking disheveled and uncomfortable. His expression was almost fearful, his shirt unevenly buttoned. The hair on his head looked like he’d tried to cut it, but used two different size guards on the electric razor. His eyebrows were completely gone.

  Just…gone.

  The missing eyebrows were somehow less jarring than the fact that his fly was down and the front of his left pant cuff was tucked into his sock. He held a plastic-wrapped bouquet of flowers in his right hand. They were lovely flowers, don’t get me wrong, but considering the rest of the scene, they were out of place.

  We stared at each other with similar expressions of, ‘what exactly is happening here?’ before I stepped back and gestured to my living room. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Mel took half a step and then paused.

  “Can I—um—come in?” he asked. I nodded and stuttered out an affirmative, my eyes moving to the flowers. They looked expensive—I mean, the bouquet was as big as my torso, for god’s sake; what had Mel been thinking?—which confused me even further. I stood there with the door open as he stood awkwardly in my living room.

  This was feeling very similar to my first date with Stan. Any second now, my father was going to appear in the room, glaring up at Mel—Dad’s barely taller than I am—and demanding he have me back before curfew.

  Shaking my head to clear it, I finally shut the door and pointed at the flowers.

  “What are those for?”

  “For you?” Mel made it a question. Glancing around the room, he held them partially out to me. “I guess?”

  “Thanks,” I said, grasping them as gently as one would a premature baby. When he let them go and I felt the weight of them in my hands, I looked back up to his face. “I guess I can put them in some water.”

  “Flowers like that,” he agreed without a trace of sarcasm. “Yeah.”

  Feeling like this was way more uncomfortable than it should have been, I took a deep breath, fairly certain that the discomfort I was feeling was not entirely my own and that I’d managed to ingest his emotions and mix them with mine. Striding past him, I hit the kitchen, opened a few cabinets, and then realized that I didn’t own a vase.

  I didn’t own a vase? Really? Ugh, Gwen, way to be an adult.

  For lack of any other options, I pulled my water carafe out of the fridge, stuck the flowers in it and set them on the counter. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the feelings inside me, picking apart my own and pulling them away from the clumsy mess that was Mel’s disjointed emotional jumble. It was like trying to pull white pet hair out of white Velcro, but I managed to figure out that I wasn’t nearly as anxious as I had been feeling.

  When I got back to the living room, I found that Mel was standing in the same position as before, eyes fixed on the wall. He didn’t even look over as I walked in, and it made me pause. I’d never seen him be anything less than capable, confident, and arrogant as hell. Norma had really done a number on him. It almost made me feel sorry enough for him to once again consider throwing him some pity sex.

  Almost, but not really.

  “I have an idea,” I said. He turned to me partially and it reminded me of a dog who’s convinced the person speaking is about to whack its nose with a newspaper. Pressing on as if he wasn’t being quite so pathetic, I cleared my throat and tried to pitch my voice casually.

  “Your girlfriend, Norma. Does she like—I mean, she’s a—um. She feeds on people, right?”

  He turned to me fully and frowned, confusion clouding around him. It took him a second, before he shook his head.

  “How did…what are you saying?”

  Continuing to force my tone to stay calm, despite the fact that knew I had literally no idea what was about to come out of my mouth, I took a step toward him.

/>   “I just have—I recognize the way your brain—your emotions? You know?—are feeling. To me.” As if it helped, I held my hands out, waved them around my head like a game show girl showing off the prize pack. “I mean, Madeline feeds on people and I’ve seen it. I’ve felt what satisfied people are feeling. After. You know, after she feeds. And you’re feeling like that. Right? Aren’t you?”

  His eyes went a bit wide and he stumbled back as if he’d just realized something and he wasn’t quite happy being that close to the idea.

  “I guess. So—” I cut him off.

  “So! You and I should go to her—to Norma, not to Madeline—and she can feed on me. You know? Because I’ve always felt that—um—Madeline has…” I was struggling for a finish, but he still seemed pretty preoccupied with whatever idea had come into his head. I continued, trying to get it all out before he could object. I would just keep talking until I confused him into doing what I wanted, if I had to. I’d done so plenty of times with my siblings as a child; a dim, brain-scrambled werewolf couldn’t be much harder to persuade. I mean, I was trying to talk him into giving up a succubus and not into doing my chores, but I’m good.

  “Madeline’s missing, but I want to feel what her customers feel and I think you do too, so you should bring me to Norma and we’ll all feel that together. Feel the—how it feels to be with a succubus.” I couldn’t bring myself to say the word ‘threesome.’ Saying ‘sex’ to Mel in an inviting manner had been sickening enough.

  Silence dropped over the room like a heavy wool blanket. Even Sonny didn’t ring any bells, crunch any seeds, or whistle any tunes. Mel stared at the floor and I poked at his emotions, trying to dislodge whatever was going on in that cluttered psyche of his. I recognized confusion, annoyance, disappointment and, on some level that I’m not even sure he was aware of, outrage. Maybe a part of him knew what was happening to him wasn’t natural, wasn’t normal, and wasn’t the start of a beautiful, long-term relationship ending in marriage and kids.

  Marriage and puppies? I don’t know what werewolves have, but puppies sounded pretty damned adorable.

  Not the point, Gwen, I reminded myself.

  “So you invited me here to use me?”

  “Well, duh,” I said, without thinking. “Uh, I mean. I knew you would have sex with me if I asked and that’s a type of using people, right? Just for sex? But then, I mean, but now that you’re here, I’m remembering that I’ve always wanted to see what succubus sex is like. And you know, you can be there, too.”

  He glowered at me and I felt a stab of insult. I waved a hand placating him.

  “With us. You can be there with us, in bed. That’s how they feed right?” Again, I felt like I had to cover up my tracks. Changing the pitch of my voice, I pressed on. “You know, because I’m not actually sure.”

  “So, you’re suggesting a threesome with me and my mate?”

  “Yes!” I exclaimed, pointing at him. Toning down my excitement over the fact that he seemed to finally be getting the idea, I shifted my stance, trying to look casual. “If you two are okay with that. If this is like a marriage, then I don’t want to interfere. How about we ask her, though?”

  “I can’t really call her.”

  “Perfect!” He frowned at me and I shook my head. “I mean. You—we should go to her. Together. Right now, in fact. You can drive me to her and I’ll explain what I want from her—from both of you.”

  Mel was staring at me with such blatant suspicion that I was reasonably sure this wouldn’t even work. I half convinced myself in that moment that I’d completely screwed things up in explaining that Norma was a succubus. Had Mel not realized that? Had I just broken some hard news to the man and we’d—I’d—screwed up our only chance at killing the creature that wanted to possess my sweet ex-husband? Was Witness Protection in Stan’s future after all?

  I tried to fix a non-threatening smile on my face, but I was betting it was as close to approximating a smile as a dog with its lips stuck up over its gums. Finally, just as I was about to break and start apologizing or barfing out the truth about what I needed from him, Mel nodded.

  “Okay. I think that’s probably a good idea.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, yeah. Norma has been sort of distant since we made love. I’ve tried spending time with her but she won’t stay. I found her in Tacoma earlier, but she just left. Didn’t even say goodbye, like she didn’t even see me. I stayed at the warehouse, even though I don’t know why she was there. She has a beautiful house—we have a beautiful house together.”

  “She has a house?” I asked, feeling a tingle of excitement. “Is she there now?”

  “Yeah, she has—the house is wonderful and she doesn’t even seem to want it.” I felt a flood of sadness wash out of him. “But I’m sure she’s there now. She got really angry when—when her new friend left. Maybe you’ll be her friend? I think she’d like that, actually.” His lips tugged up on one side in what could have been a grimace or a smile, I wasn’t sure. I nodded frantically, stepped forward and grabbed his arm. Pulling him toward the door, I noted that, for once, he wasn’t flexing at my touch.

  “Let’s go, then! To her house! Come on. Can you drive? Do you know where her house is?”

  “Oh yeah. I can drive.” Once we were outside and I had locked my door, I turned to find him staring down at me, his expression soft and a little sad. I panicked inside, worried he was about to change his mind.

  “Let’s go!” I insisted, pushing at his chest. He rocked back slightly at my touch, but then leaned in to hug me. I felt myself go tense, arms squished between our chests.

  “Thank you, Gwen. I wasn’t really sure before this that we were friends.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said, my voice muffled against his shoulder. He continued to hug me and I felt his hands shift slightly, moving downward away from my sides. Before he could get a grip on my ass, or whatever he was trying to do, I pushed away.

  “We should get going,” I insisted, pointing to his car. He gave a distracted nod and let me shove him toward the SUV. When we were finally buckled into our seats, he paused with the keys hovering outside the ignition. I fought off a snarl and tried to be patient.

  “Really, Gwen. You don’t know how much I appreciate how nice you’ve been to me. I know it’s probably just because you feel sorry for me because I haven’t had sex in so long. But, it’s just so great to know that you’ll be there for me in my time of need.”

  “Uh-huh. Start the car, Mel. The sooner we see Norma, the sooner we can get this over with.”

  “Oh, oh right. Yeah, got it.”

  As we pulled away from the curb, I watched Chloe and Owen do the same in the van.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mel spent most of the drive quiet, which I was happy about. Our conversation before had been painfully awkward, and I had no desire to continue it. Luckily, his expression reminded me of someone trying to learn French by listening to the advanced disc without first having gone through the remedial lessons. He looked slightly confused and a little frustrated but, more importantly, he looked that way silently.

  When we pulled up in front of the house I almost forgot all about him.

  It was beautiful. Stone and wood, with a burbling fountain in the center of the roundabout driveway and doors that looked formidable enough to keep out any disgruntled peasants. Mel left the car on for a moment before mumbling something to himself and turning off the ignition. I climbed out of his car slowly, feeling tiny as I dropped to the ground and stared up at the front of the house.

  There was a stained glass window above the cavernous entry, full of greens, blues and browns. I couldn’t seem to make out an image in the shards, but that didn’t make it any less impressive. Mel stepped around the car and toward the front door before pausing with his hand on the knob. When he turned to face me, he looked as if he had just noticed me for the first time.

  “She’s in here. Are you coming in?”

  “Yeah,” I breathed, n
ot sure I had the ability to shut my mouth over the shock I was still feeling. Norma owned this place?

  Without waiting for me, Mel headed inside. The door stayed ajar and I moved toward it, still marveling at the architecture of even the stone above the deep porch. I felt like I was Lorelai going to ask the Gilmores for Chilton money.

  The inside of the house was vastly more modern. It was sleek and uncluttered, without even a single suit of armor or coat of arms. One day I was going to walk into a big house and find a suit of armor, dammit.

  Mel had moved through the foyer and disappeared around the corner. I, however, took another few seconds to stand under the high ceilings and feel very small, insignificant, and poor.

  The chandelier above me wasn’t lit, but I got the impression that it would have positively glittered had it been full dark outside. A staircase climbed along the wall ahead of me, hugging the elegant wallpaper as it curled upward. I leaned over in an attempt to see what it led to, but whatever lay past the iron railing was just too high for my craned neck to do me any good.

  I heard Mel’s voice and it called my attention away from the million stairs and their hidden end. Concentrating in order to both hear and feel what was going on, I moved away from the steps toward the noise. I perceived annoyance, pain, and the windy feeling of irritation and hunger. Norma was definitely here. I considered the fact that I could probably just run out the front door and hide behind Mel’s car until Chloe and Owen got there, and then I scolded myself for being so cowardly. They probably would be there soon enough and I could make small talk with Mel and Norma for a few minutes. I really wanted to see her, I realized. Whether it was the curiosity over this other woman who had caused Stan harm, or something else, I wasn’t sure.

  Past the curving foyer was a long hall lined with art in much the same color scheme as the stained glass at the front of the house. Blue lakes, green grass, and skies in a variety of gorgeous shades were depicted in paintings and photographs. They all seemed to be of a similar landscape, which changed slightly in each piece the further down the hall I got: trees grew, slopes declined, and water receded.