Fangs

by Vella Munn

  “Uncle George said I had a vivid imagination because I’d talk about places I’d never been, things I’d never seen.” She blinked to bring Jeff back into focus. He hadn’t moved but there was an awareness to every line of his body she couldn’t ignore.

  His strong, healthy body.

  Desire washed over her. She fought what didn’t belong here by trying to remember why she’d been talking about her life before she’d come to the Oregon coast.

  “I told Ram more about my past than I’m sure he cared to know. But I was hungry for someone to talk to. I wasn’t sure I could succeed at what I’d taken on. I needed at least one person to bounce what I was thinking off.”

  “Making a business succeed isn’t easy. I’m sorry he wasn’t what you needed.”

  She hadn’t been looking for someone to spend her life with, but Ram had been hard to ignore. He was a physical man, hard-working and willing to learn everything about the Christmas tree business. In some respects, they’d learned together during the six months he’d spent more time at her place than his own.

  He was always there and, in the end, that had been a huge part of the problem.

  “Mia, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but I’m thinking about something you said. You needed someone to talk to. That person turned out to be Ram. What changed?”

  He was asking a question that had nothing to do with his job. She was under no obligation to satisfy his curiosity—but he’d left his place after a long, hard day maybe because he wanted to see her. Was it possible?

  “The kind of life I had with my uncle wasn’t easy, but one benefit is that I learned how to rely on myself. There isn’t a task I won’t take on. Once I was in my late teens, Uncle George considered me his equal. In contrast, Ram never did get it into his head that I didn’t need or want him making the decisions.” She’d said so much. What did more matter? “Ram expected me to look up to him. There isn’t a piece of machinery he can’t repair, but so can I. My competence wasn’t what his male ego needed.”

  “He’s a man’s man.”

  “That’s a good way of putting it.”

  Needing to do something, she started to rub her knees. She stopped because she didn’t want to draw attention to how little she was wearing. Maybe her attire explained why she’d allowed the conversation to become so personal.

  “I’m still learning how to operate in normal society. Sometimes I want to run back to Alaska where it’s just me and wild animals.” Stop revealing so much. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be more helpful when it comes to letting you know what to expect from Ram.”

  “He isn’t the only one I’ll be dealing with.”

  “True. I remember what you said about having been a detective. You probably dealt with suspects who looked at life far differently from how you do.”

  “Yes, I did. That’s interesting.”

  “What is?”

  “Not many people, once they learn what I used to do, think about that aspect.”

  “Was it hard not to compare your value system to theirs? Being judgmental must complicate things.”

  “Cops are as human as everyone else. It would have been a lot harder if I didn’t have my fellow cops to rely on. We all dealt with people whose values are screwed up.”

  “What happened? Did it get to where you couldn’t handle dealing with—I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  She refused to lower her gaze. “I didn’t hold back when it came to talking about my relationship with Ram.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Point taken. I’d probably still be in law enforcement if my wife hadn’t died. I needed—change.”

  Wife. Dead.

  “I’m so sorry. Of course you did—needed to do something different, that is.”

  She hoped he’d add to what little he’d told her. Instead, he continued to study her. There was a heaviness to his expression, emotions that weighed on him. Maybe she should ask how long his wife had been dead, but that might lead to an explanation she didn’t know how to handle. Young as his wife must have been, maybe she’d had an accident. If Jeff had been involved—maybe behind the wheel and responsible for the crash that had taken the life of the woman he loved—

  How much was he still mourning? Would he ever get over it?

  “Do you have children?” she asked.

  “No. We wanted, but—no.”

  Enough. Don’t put him through more pain.

  He’d used what she assumed was his personal vehicle to come here and was wearing jeans and a T-shirt frayed at the neck. They were sitting in a room with muted lighting, trying to get to know each other. Searching for a connection that went beyond what had taken place on Dark Mountain.

  Finding links.

  Exposing secrets.

  “Why did you become a wildlife officer?”

  “After my wife…died, I couldn’t go on doing what I was. Neither did I want to completely start over. The wilderness started calling to me. I think you know what I’m talking about.”

  “I do.”

  “There’s a lot of bureaucracy in the agency,” he continued, “but most of the time I’m able to stay away from it.”

  His attention went to the window, making her wonder if he was trying to see beyond the curtain. Now she wished she’d let the night in so they could share it.

  “I miss Alaska,” she admitted. “The experience wasn’t perfect, but the setting—glorious.”

  “Different from here.”

  “Yes, but Oregon now feels like home.” Moving the conversation away from his wife’s death was allowing her to relax. Hopefully it was the same for him. “I love walking along the shore and hiking in the mountains.”

  “Hopefully that won’t change.”

  “I won’t let it. I, ah, my uncle drowned, but I don’t hate the lake that took him.”

  His gaze returned to her. “You moved away from it.”

  She hadn’t told him everything about the last day of her uncle’s life, not the parts she might never forgive herself for.

  “With him gone, even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have kept everything going. I’d been thinking about moving, seeing if I could find my place in civilization. My aunt—she’d been isolated for a long time. Her mental health wasn’t the best, so I decided to move her close to her relatives. Fortunately, she went along with my decision and she’s better now. There’s even a new man in her life, at least there was the last time I talked to her.”

  “It sounds as if you don’t stay in regular contact with her.”

  She rested her hand on Banshee’s head. “Neither of us wants it.”

  “Oh?”

  “I remind her of something she’s trying to put behind herself.”

  “I understand.”

  Of course he did, and if she wasn’t careful, she might force him to plunge into the past. Determined to get the conversation back where it belonged, she asked if he and Darick intended to return to where the attack had taken place.

  “Yes. Lyle’s girlfriend in particular was vague about where they’d been camping. I got the impression she was deliberately evading.”

  Because his cop instincts had told him that. “It should be easy for you to find since you and I were in the area.”

  “I didn’t tell anyone I talked to that, thanks to the trip you and I took, I’m familiar with that part of Dark Mountain.”

  “What do you think your chances of finding elk are? They’re a great food source for predators that are large enough to bring them down. Maybe Lobo has convinced the grays to stay close to the herd.”

  “Convinced? I’m not sure how smart Lobo is.”

  “But he’s probably the primary hunter.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah.”

  “What is it? You’re thinking about something.”

  He nodded, the gesture slow and long. “About how I feel.”

  Feel? “Are you thinking Darick and you could
be in danger? Those men wouldn’t go so far as to—shouldn’t you bring more people with you?”

  “Local law enforcement doesn’t think about the grays like you and I do. I didn’t tell the sheriff what we learned about their background. They just want to end the danger to humans.”

  “Oh.” She felt defeated. Feel. “Of course this bothers you.”

  “Not really. I understand where they’re coming from.”

  “Then—I don’t understand why you…”

  “Of course you don’t. I’m getting used to it myself. Mia, I’m coming back to life. I haven’t felt anything for a long time.”

  “Because of what happened to your wife.” The conversation had circled back to unwanted territory, but if he needed to talk about the woman he still loved, she would handle it like she’d dealt with what Summer had told her. “How long ago did she die?”

  “Two years.”

  “Was it…?”

  He got up, walked over to the window, and pulled back the curtain. “She was murdered.”

  A kick to the stomach wouldn’t have shocked her more. She clamped her hand over her mouth. I’m sorry seemed so inadequate.

  “Were, ah, were you involved with the investigation?”

  “No. Even if I was still functioning, that wouldn’t have been allowed.”

  “Oh. Of course.” How inadequate.

  “I’m not making this easy for you, am I?”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “My supervisor insisted I go on leave, told me to take as much time as I needed, but time was my biggest enemy.”

  “Too much to think about?”

  “Yeah.” His sigh brought Banshee’s head up. Jeff smiled, a little. “Reading my mind, are you?”

  “He does that with me sometimes.”

  “The family, both Crystal’s and mine, were around for weeks. I both needed them and needed to be alone. Wanted to hang out with the other detectives and wanted nothing to do with them.”

  “Because they were trying to determine who had killed Crystal and weren’t telling you?” She knew so little about human emotions, maybe she’d say something wrong.

  “The man who’d killed her was arrested about a week after it happened, but I didn’t ask.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Only my role in her murder mattered. I couldn’t get past that.”

  She wasn’t going to ask more questions. Either he’d trust her or he wouldn’t.

  “Crystal was a nurse.” His voice stayed a whisper, “She was working nights. It wasn’t the best part of town, but where staff members parked was well-lit, and the nurses paired up. Her car was in this shop near where we lived, waiting for a part to be delivered. I was pissed. They’d known what her car needed, had more than enough time to make sure the part was on hand.”

  He was stalling, slowly getting to the hard part. She could be as patient as he needed. The only thing she didn’t dare do was wrap her arms around him.

  “We’d made plans for me to pick her up when her shift was over, but…”

  “What time was it?” So much for staying silent.

  “After midnight.”

  “Did you have to get yourself up? Maybe—”

  “I was working nights myself. My partner and I had just wrapped up a case. There we were, sitting at our desks going over how we’d gotten to the point of an arrest. Patting ourselves on the back. Boasting to other detectives.”

  She wished she knew what his workplace was like, wished she’d been there when he interviewed suspects and did whatever else detectives did.

  “My cell rang. It was Crystal asking where the hell I was.”

  “She was mad?” No, she wouldn’t find fault with a dead woman—a woman Jeff loved.

  “Kind of. A co-worker had offered to stay with her until I showed up and if I was hung up, the co-worker would take her home.”

  “That was nice of her. Or him.”

  “Her. Another nurse. I told Crystal I was leaving. I’d be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Only that had been too long. Mia read the truth in Jeff’s downcast eyes.

  “A man tried to grab her purse. She fought. He pulled out a knife.”

  “Oh, Jeff.”

  “Crystal didn’t stand a chance. She’d bled out before anyone found her.”

  Enough! She couldn’t let Jeff stand on the other side of the room from her, looking wounded when her legs worked and her arms knew how to enfold.

  He shuddered when she slipped her fingers through his and brought his hands to her face. She pressed his palms against her cheeks.

  “I’m so very, very sorry.”

  “My fault,” he whispered. “She’d be alive if I hadn’t forgotten—”

  “No! Don’t! You can’t change what happened. Blaming yourself won’t bring her back to life.”

  He stared at something beyond her, but didn’t try to pull free. “That’s what everyone said, everyone except her parents.”

  She hated how much of a burden Crystal’s parents had added to what Jeff was carrying, but she hadn’t walked in their footsteps. She’d just come close when her uncle died.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Most of the story. The rest—”

  “Can wait.”

  “Yeah. I need to go. Otherwise—”

  “Stay. Please.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mia’s bedroom smelled of evergreens and a hint of roses. After several breaths, he realized the flower scent was coming from the adjacent bathroom, either her shampoo or her soap.

  She picked a needle with thread in it off the spread and put it on her dresser. Mia had invited him into the room where she slept. He wasn’t certain why she’d led him in here and wasn’t going to ask. His brain was done in, wiped out. Empty.

  Unless one or both of them changed their minds, he was going to make love to a woman who could grow evergreens, mend a fabric tear, and listen to a guilty man confess to what he might always consider a crime.

  “Are you sure?” he asked when she faced him with her arms at her sides. “If this isn’t what you want—”

  “I want. I think I have from the moment we met. I just didn’t know it.”

  He wasn’t sure he felt the same way, but right now nothing was clear. If having sex with Mia Sandas had been at the back of his mind when he’d decided to come see her tonight, the desire had been so far back he hadn’t recognized it.

  Then everything had turned around.

  “I have an IUD,” she said, as if they were discussing which of them would feed Banshee. “But no condoms.”

  “I do.”

  “Oh?”

  “My dad gave me the responsibility talk on my sixteenth birthday. He also presented me with my first box and told me to never be without.”

  “Your father’s a wise man.”

  His father was a lawyer. Years of defending people who’d been sued or wanted to sue had taught the elder Julian to take all possible precautions. Crystal and he had been talking about whether it was time to start their family. Along with everything else, he mourned not having had a child with her.

  Not tonight. Leave regret out of the bedroom.

  Accept Mia’s offer to remember what being alive is about.

  “This is all I’m wearing.” She held her nightshirt away from her body.

  “I know.”

  “But not because I had seducing you in mind. I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “Do you wish I hadn’t?”

  Her mouth sagged. She closed it. “It might be easier if you weren’t and hadn’t told me about your wife, but this is where we are. Whatever happens from now on I’m never going to regret now.”

  There was no way she could be sure. Neither could he. What they had was tonight, just a little time really because he had to go home and get some sleep.

  Tomorrow. Damn it, tomorrow.

  “I’m thinking too much,” he told her when her expression turned quizzical. Apparently he hadn’t said anything for
a long time.

  “So am I.” She hugged herself then started to let her arms slide to her sides followed by clasping her elbows. “I just need to do. I think you need the same thing.”

  Yes. “Without talking?”

  “That might be best.”

  He deliberately didn’t allow himself to do more than wrap his fingers around her wrists, lift her hands one at a time, and kiss her palms. Her skin tasted like the herbs and spices he’d smelled when he’d first stepped inside her home. He licked.

  “That tickles,” she said.

  “Remember what we agreed on. No talking.”

  Her laugh circled him and seeped into his pores. Healed something. His body was ready, his erection pushing against his jeans. It would take so little to get her out of her solitary garment, less than he needed to accomplish before their bodies could become one. Regretting what he was doing, he released her wrists. Her arms went back to her sides.

  Acutely aware that she was watching his every move, he bent and untied his laces. He was trying to decide how to tackle the next part of the chore when she crouched in front of him. He grasped her shoulder to help balance her as she removed his shoes. After she’d done the same to his socks, he eased her to her feet.

  Smiling again, a small but lingering gesture, she tugged his T-shirt out of the waistband and pulled it over his head. Leaning toward him, she pressed her lips to the base of his throat. The gesture reached him in ways he’d seldom been reached. He had to work at remembering to breathe as he lifted her nightshirt until the hem was at her buttocks. On a sigh, she stood upright. Stared at him.

  “I haven’t done this for a long time,” she whispered. “I’m not sure—”

  “Neither have I.”

  She sighed again and, unless he was mistaken, relaxed a little. He let go of her garment and gave himself the complex task of getting out of his jeans. In the distance, he heard the living room couch groan and concluded Banshee was back on it. Somewhere Ram, Lyle, Lyle’s father, and others were probably settling in for the night. They had nothing to do with what was happening in Mia’s bedroom.