The Immortal Takes a Wife

by Pamela Labud

  Fiona had never been one for crying, she’d not ever had a meltdown. When things went bad, her response was to get angry.

  Not tonight. She couldn’t give into her natural inclinations and start breaking things. Nor could she bawl her eyes out.

  What she could do was lie there awake, accepting the pain that her new reality afforded her—suffer in silence, was it?

  Besides, in a place like this, the staff would show up and start heaven only knows what kind of ‘treatment.’

  Didn’t matter, because her ailments were not of her mind, but rather of her heart. She was pretty sure there wasn’t a cure for that.

  Even if there was, at that moment, she really didn’t want one.

  #

  “You are an idiot.” Hawke said as they arrived in their joint sleeping arrangements. “If I had a woman like that, I’d move heaven and earth to keep her. Dude, what is wrong with you?”

  Matty walked behind the bounty hunter into the new room they were forced to share…

  “Why can’t we have our own room, again?” Matty had asked the butler ghost.

  The spirit had appeared right after dinner to take them to their room. “I’m not sure, sir. Management said you’d only booked two rooms and that’s all we have for you. This is Nocturne Falls, you know. Even the supernatural beings require organization.”

  So, as a result, the lovely suite he’d meant to surprise Fiona with, he was now forced to share with Hawke.

  Things couldn’t possibly get worse.

  “If you had a woman like that, what? First of all, what makes you think you could even get a woman like that?”

  The werewolf laughed. “Hey, don’t put your baggage on me. If she wasn’t so invested in you, I’d have her in a minute.”

  “You’re going to move on my girlfriend?”

  They stood eye to eye, and the werewolf was a huge, angry man, who clearly could take Matty out in about ten seconds.

  Matty didn’t care. He was Immortal, after all. Almost dying would hurt, but he’d survive. In fact, so what if the guy hit him. Didn’t he deserve a beating for the way he’d treated Fiona?

  Suddenly the butler appeared. “Gentlemen, may I remind you that we a have as strict ‘no violence’ policy here at Branson house. When you signed in at our front desk, you both agreed to it.”

  “What?” Hawke asked,

  Matty let out a breath. “I actually signed us in. If it even looks like there’s going to be a fight, we’ve agreed to let them ‘take the fight’ out of us. This is a ‘rest’ home after all.”

  “I didn’t agree to anything,’ the werewolf began, but the butler slipped in front of him, holding a nasty looking needle and syringe in one hand and a pillow in the other. Suddenly the room filled with all sorts of spirits, all dressed like orderlies, arms crossed and very serious expressions.

  “Yes,” Matty said. “You did.”

  A few seconds of silence passed between them. “Right,” he said at last. “Please, forgive me. It’s been a long day.” He sent an expression of ‘this ain’t over yet’ toward Matty, but stepped back, hands in the air.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Suddenly, the two of them were alone again.

  “Yes, thank you. Now, if you don’t mind. Since I’m paying the bill, I’m taking the bed.” Matty surveyed the room. Of course, it had rose colored drapes—because that was Fiona’s favorite color. The king-sized bed had a beautiful red spread on it, and on that were dozens of rose petals. On the bedside table sat a bucket of ice and a single bottle of Champagne. A plate of dark chocolate truffles had been strategically placed there as well.

  It had been a perfect plan after all. Fiona, wearing a lovely crimson silk nightgown, him on one knee, and the engagement ring now burning a hole in his pocket. The moment he knew they were going to be in the Branson House he was going to pop the question.

  After he told her why he’d occasionally checked himself in this place from time to time. His problem had been his own secret for eons. Not even his brother knew about it.

  Now was the time to do something about it. To change himself and be with the woman he loved…

  “Aw, honey,” Hawke said, waving his hand across the romantic scene, “you shouldn’t have.”

  Matty rubbed his eyes. “Shut up.” He walked to the bed, pulled the covers back and slipped in between the sheets. “I think the couch turns into a bed.”

  Although he was nowhere near a restful sleep, Matty was just on the cusp of dozing when the bed bounced violently. He immediately jumped up and spun around.

  “What the blazes do you think you’re doing?”

  There, beside him was the bounty hunter. Still fully dressed, sock footed laying on top the covers. “I’m going to bed. This thing is as wide as the Grand Canyon. Seems a shame to waste all this on one guy.”

  “Get off. I called the bed.”

  “Well, Immortal boy, if you think you’re big enough.”

  Matty stared down at him. “I’m not giving up the bed.”

  In truth, he could have slept standing up, leaning on a coat hanger, but he wasn’t about to let this guy win.

  “I didn’t ask you to. Trust me when I say, your virtue is safe with me. I’m not even going to spoon ya. Snuggle-bunny.”

  With that, the werewolf flipped over on his other side, and within seconds all Matty heard was a gentle snore.

  What the…? Matty stood beside the bed a few more seconds, deciding what he wanted to do. He didn’t want to spend the night he’d dreamed of for years in bed with a guy. While he was werewolf, he wasn’t the right werewolf. Deciding that there would be enough room for both of them and not be anything more than awkward he gently climbed back into bed.

  “This was not what I’d planned.”

  Hawke yawned and turned on his back. “Ain’t that the truth. Night…darlin.”

  Furious but left with no other option, Matty huddled on his side, barely on the edge of the bed. It took him awhile to drift off to sleep, and the last thing on his brain before his body took over and he lapsed into unconsciousness was that it couldn’t possibly get any worse…

  Chapter Six

  Drax Remmington paced the motel room for the tenth time. “What the blazes? I send the guy for one simple job and this happens?”

  “I dunno boss. Do you think the RTO gang got them?”

  Drax turned on his ‘new’ second in command. His ‘first’ second in command officer had been turned into plasma glue, which was now spattered on the floors, bed and windows of the tiny motel room. The bondsman grimaced. He should have sprung a few more dollars for a better room. That might have protected his investments better in the long run.

  Meanwhile, his sawbones, Weatherly, was knelt down with his spectrometer checking out the ooze. It was one thing to lose one of his own men, but if the bounty hunter and the bounty was mixed into this mess, he was going to be in deep, deep trouble. He needed the Immortal and it had really been a perk to have a bounty hunter at his beck and call.

  “Nope. Just one guy, sir. Looks like Grogan got on somebody’s bad side.”

  This was not good. “So, the werewolf bounty hunter and the Immortal are not mixed up in all this?”

  “No sir. Not at all.”

  “Wow,” his underling whistled. “Who knew the old boy had this much in him?”

  Things were definitely going wrong, and Drax knew if he didn’t take control of the situation soon, disaster awaited him for sure. Thankfully, he’d gotten there before the authorities had been alerted. He’d quickly cast a distraction spell over the room, so that no one from the outside would see anything suspicious.

  “Shut your mouth and go call the cleaner. We need this room back to normal before the motel owner finds out.”

  “Are you sure, boss? Because it’s gonna be expensive…”

  Drax shot him a look that could wilted sawgrass. “Just do it.”

  Without an
y further argument, his henchman quickly backed out of the room, bowing like he had a spring in his abdomen.

  “So, what now? You want me to find a bounty hunter to find your bounty hunter and his, um…bounty?”

  Drax waived him off. “Not yet. I need to think. Did you get enough of the biological and energy levels in the room?”

  The other man, who looked a lot like an otter with drugstore glasses and a cheap toupee, nodded and patted his pack. “It’s all here. I can have it analyzed by morning.”

  “I want it done sooner. Call Smitty and have him pick you up. I’ve got a meeting to go to.”

  “Alone, boss?”

  That was the question now, wasn’t it? “I’ll take doofus with me. If anybody raises their gun, I can throw him in the line of fire. Even if I do get shot, I’ll at least have the pleasure of seeing him go down first.”

  Weatherly nodded. “Okay. You’ve got it.”

  What kind of assassin did it take to do this kind of work? It wasn’t precision, that was for sure. If he was right, and the supernatural residues were high, then whomever had gotten to Grogan had hung around awhile. The question was, had it been after Hawke or Hyland? Or, both?

  Walking back outside, Drax took a deep breath. It wasn’t just the sour, greasy smell of unnatural death that had gotten to him. The room now had the thick residue of torture and pain. He didn’t like it, and though he’d had an occasion from time to time to ‘persuade’ his own targets in much the same way, it wasn’t a job he enjoyed, and he always ended it as soon as his objective had been achieved.

  Instinct told Drax that it hadn’t been the case with old Grogan. His killer had relished and reveled in the violence and suffering.

  Time to speed things up. Pulling out his phone he punched in the bounty hunter’s number. The quicker he got Hyland, the quicker they could conclude their business and maybe he could avoid getting himself turned into a greasy supernatural puddle.

  “Hello,” the low, gravelly voice answered. It sounded like he’d been asleep. Great, Drax thought. “Lazing around when there’s work to be done?”

  “Remmington,” the other man coughed. “What can I do for you?”

  “Where’s my bounty?”

  Hawke cleared his throat. “I’m working on it.”

  “Work harder. I need this business finished yesterday.”

  Silence spread between them. “Listen, about Grogan…”

  “I know. That’s why I’ve gone into hiding. I’ll get the job done, but it’s going to take a few more days. Whatever had a hand in that, is either after me or the bounty. As soon as we’re safe, I’ll bring him in.”

  “Just don’t wait too long, Hawke. You know what’s at stake.”

  “I do.”

  “Make sure you don’t forget it. I’ll let this pass for now, but my good nature is tenuous at best. I’m not a patient man.”

  With that, he clicked off the phone. One more call to make and he could get back to his own work. Without hesitation, he punched in the second number for his bar in Underworld City.

  “Jack Lantern’s House of Brew. Whatever you need to fix you up, we can do.”

  “Jack, this is Drax. Do you still have my package secured away?”

  “You, betcha, boss. I hope it’s not going to be much longer though, it’s starting to spoil.”

  Drax groaned. He hated talking in code like this, but a guy like him had to be careful. You never knew who might be listening in. “Just keep it on ice and do what you have to keep it fresh. I don’t need any more messes to deal with.”

  “Sure thing,” Jack said. “Anything else?”

  “No. I’m going into town. I’ll be at Howler’s if anybody needs me. I’m going to meet with local law enforcement and see what they might know about a little problem I’m having.”

  Clicking the phone off, Drax slipped it into his vest pocket. Working with any cops was tough enough, but when they were werewolves, well, let’s just say it could be problematic.

  The last thing he needed right now, were more problems.

  #

  “I don’t know how you can sleep at a time like this,” Fiona grumbled. She sat on the side of the huge four poster monstrosity that could easily sleep half a dozen werewolves and still have room for a wood sprite or two.

  It was the Branson house’s master suite. Matty had told her, after spending a most uncomfortable night, sharing a double bed with the bounty hunter. He’d begged for a little more upscale accommodations from the proprietors. With much pleading and no small amount of cash the staff acquiesced and now the two men would sleep far better as long as they were there.

  Who knew how long that was going to be?

  “Hmm?” Matty yawned and stretched. “Sorry, babe. You know how I need my beauty sleep. Less than twelve hours and I just can’t function. Where’s what’s his name, Crow?”

  “Hawke. He must have already gone down to breakfast.” She crossed her arms. “So, our lives are now in danger on top of the fact that you’re about to be snatched by a gangster of some sort, and who knows what he’s got planned for you?”

  Matty rubbed his eyes, and then propped himself up on his elbows. “I know this sounds bad…”

  “Because it is bad. That bounty hunter is ready to haul you in at the first opportunity and you’re not the least bit worried about it?”

  “Of course, I’m worried. Who wouldn’t be? But, I need all my wits about me to deal with the situation and if I’m not rested, then my enemies have a better chance of out-thinking me.”

  Fiona slid off the bed and crossed her arms. “I don’t know what made me think things were going to be different this time.”

  “Hey,” Matty rolled off of the bed and made his way to her. Taking her in his arms, he pulled her close. He spoke in a low, comforting tone. “I told you. This is just a little bump in the road. I’ll get out of this. You’ll see.”

  Fiona wasn’t about to fall for that again, although it would have been far too easy to relax into his arms, believe his promises. She wanted everything to be all right, for them to really start a life together this time.

  “Listen,” she said at last. “I need to get some food. If you need anything, I’ll be down in the dining room.”

  She pulled away, just like she’d done dozens of times before. He knew each shattered dream broke her heart a little more.

  “Don’t do this, Fi,” he said as she’d made it to the door. “Don’t give up on us. Not this time.”

  And just like every other time, his words touched her soul. “I know,” she said, holding back her tears. “Just one more chance.”

  He said nothing more. She slipped out of the room and into the hall. Pausing for a moment, leaning back against the heavy oak door, she gave into her tears. There was no force of nature that could keep her from crying and when she got like this, Fiona had to let them loose.

  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, when she realized she was not alone in the hall. Finally, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she hiccupped twice and tried to calm down.

  “He’s not worth it, you know.”

  Sniffing she lifted her chin and gave him her best glare. “You don’t know him, or me, for that matter.”

  He shrugged. “You think your story is different from anybody else’s? Trust me when I say, ‘been there and done that.’”

  “Oh,” she scoffed. “You’re going to tell me you’ve had your heart broken, too? What does that make us? Buddies?”

  He let out a breath. “I know what he’s like because I ‘was’ him. I had the best woman any man could ever ask for and I treated her like crap. Like him, I was a repeat offender. I walked on that woman so much, I swear she has permanent boot-prints on her back.”

  “Nice to know that every man I meet’s a disappointment.”

  “I’m just saying that if you want to talk about it…” He left the rest of his offer disappear into the air and stood unmoving, obv
iously waiting for her to fall at his feet.

  “Thank you for your honesty, but I don’t need a bestie or a relationship counselor. I’m fine.”

  “Well, can’t blame a guy for trying. Let’s say we let sleeping beauty catch some zz’s and we go get some breakfast.”

  “If you think you can stand my company.”

  “Oh, believe me. I’ve broken bread with worse. Much, much worse.”

  She didn’t want to like this guy, Fiona thought as she started toward the stairs. The last thing she needed was another unbalanced guy in her life. And yet, she could feel the pull of his personality whenever he entered the room. She didn’t want him the way she ached for Matty, but she couldn’t help the feeling that Hawke was the sort of guy-friend she’d always wanted.

  And that was bad news, as far as she was concerned. Very bad.

  #

  Matty leaned against the door, and though he didn’t see her, he sensed Fiona just beyond the cold wood.

  Being an Immortal had its advantages, true enough. Especially the whole not dying thing, right? Except, how great was it if you were miserable? If your heart aches almost every day, it was a huge downer. Not only that, there was the whole ‘unending’ sorrow, thing, too.

  “You’re such a jerk,” Max’s voice filtered into Matty’s thoughts. “Fiona is a beautiful, vibrant woman. Pure gold, and you’re screwing up at every turn. Do you ever think of her before yourself?”

  That was the question, wasn’t it?

  The fact was, he was always thinking of her. His thoughts tended to be how do I keep from making her hate me, and how can she possibly not hate me?

  It was in that moment that the bounty hunter returned to the room. “Forgot my phone,” he said. “Are you coming down to breakfast?”

  “Is Fiona down there?”

  “Yes.”

  Matty let out a breath. “Then, no. I don’t think so.”

  “Coward.”

  “Well, that wasn’t very nice,” he said, irritated by the man’s sharp tone. Okay, he was only stating the truth, but still…

  “I don’t have to be nice to you. It’s not in my contract. Furthermore, once I get you turned in and pay my debt, I don’t care if I ever see you again.”