Storm Crazy_A paranormal cozy romance

by Livia Quinn

  Chapter 40

  Tempe

  The beginning? Which beginning? Jack thought he wanted to know everything, and yet he kept looking at me like I’d grown a fork in the middle of my forehead. That would probably have been more palatable than what he’d seen—or what was to come.

  “Was that the extent of your ‘gift’?” he asked. “A little mini shower when you get mad?” His eyes widened. “It was you! You… rained on Paige in the parking lot.” He scratched his head. “I’m sounding crazy to myself.”

  Dylan cut in, “For the details…” He looked Jack over, probably wondering how our sheriff who fancied all things normal had so easily accepted my bolt-throwing exhibition. “You might want to sit down.”

  I looked at the long stainless handle on the door and almost laughed out loud. We were about to sit down in the same chairs Jack had handcuffed me to just over a week ago. And the three letter sign on that restroom door held even more significance now.

  “Let’s start here.” Dylan pointed at the wet foyer. “What do you remember about the day you found the body?”

  Jack looked surprised. He’d obviously expected Dylan to go right to the information regarding my parents. But he didn’t miss a stroke, reaching into his jacket for that little notebook. Finding it soaked, he merely blinked and returned it to his pocket.

  “The victim was nude, the body temp was cooler than it should have been. He’d suffered blunt force trauma to the face and smelled like dead fish and rotten eggs.”

  “All evidence that you were in the presence of a Nucklavee,” Dylan said, matter of factly.

  “The con-man? According to whom?” Jack asked.

  Dylan shrugged. “There’s kind of an unwritten book on people of power.”

  “People of power?” Jack frowned at Dylan, then glanced at me. I shrugged. “What do you mean power?” he asked Dylan.

  “Hold that question, S-Man.” Dylan was enjoying himself a little too much. “We were talking about the Nucklavee. Nucklavees are mean creatures who can…slip into someone else’s place. When they are about to die, they smell like rotting fish and sulfur. Unless you take the Nucklavee’s head off, it can regenerate.”

  Jack blinked, mumbling, “Take… its… head off.”

  Dylan raised one black brow, pretending concern. “Are you okay, Jack? You’re starting to sound like a parrot.”

  I sighed and punched him in the arm. “Dylan, get on with it.” I wanted him to get to the end of the story, the part about Phoebe and Dutch. I wanted to know why Aurora had lied to me.

  “You’re telling me that the guy…” His eyes darted to me then back to Dylan. “…the victim Tempe found in the foyer wasn’t…” his voice trailed off.

  “Human.” Dylan grinned, steepled his fingers casually, and leaned back in his chair, the front legs kicking up. “He wasn’t a zombie, exactly, but he did come back to life—if that’s what you want to call what they do—in the ME's autopsy room, and walk out. I assume someone fingerprinted him. That would verify what I’ve just told you.”

  Jack rubbed his chin, his eyes moving around the room as he remembered the details of the case, the night the body disappeared, and what the ME had told him about the fingerprints. I saw that suspicious look in his eye as he rocked back in his chair and settled his gaze on me. “Did you know?”

  “Not until later. Well, I knew he was a variant of some kind,” I said.

  He made a face and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

  Dylan said, “Variant is a word for creatures like him who are…” He tilted his head and nodded at Jack. “We’ll go with your description, bad ‘people of power’.”

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds then opened them. “So who killed him?”

  Dylan looked off. “We’re not sure. The Ray who was working in the clubhouse was in fact one of the three bodyguards who arrived this year to keep an eye on the Pomeroys. Something happened to the real Ray; the Nucklavee probably killed him. The iron in his blood tells us he handled the amphora, so he was involved with what happened to River. My guess, he had a falling out with whoever is holding him.”

  “You’re sure River’s been kidnapped and didn’t just leave like Phoebe and her other bodyguards?”

  Jack was starting to catch up quickly, I thought, oddly proud. “You’re handling this rather well, Jack,” I said.

  He frowned at me, a shocky look in his eyes. “Yeah, well, I liked you better when you weren’t tossing electricity at my privates.”

  That hurt. And I noticed he hadn’t called it lightning.

  Jack

  My mind was so far out in left field, I wasn’t sure if I’d make it back to short stop much less home base. Either they were both crazy, or my mind had gone AWOL. I couldn’t believe I was still standing here having what seemed like a normal discussion about extremely un-normal events. All part of the psychosis, Lang.

  “I’m going to pretend this is all an illusion, like an episode on Syfy.” I squeezed my eyes shut hoping when I opened them we’d be standing in my office discussing the weather. No, not the weather. My eyes flew open. Tempe and the PI just waited, I assumed for a sign I wasn’t going to run screaming from the clubhouse. I couldn’t guarantee anything yet.

  “I have a question.”

  “Just one?” Dylan smirked.

  I ignored him. “I still don’t get why this Nuckle vay wanted River’s antique vase.”

  Tempe sighed. “I’m afraid… I misled you, Jack. The amphora isn’t River’s favorite collectible. He, um… lives in it.” Without blinking she followed that with, “He’s a genie.”

  My mouth fell open but no words came out. I listened for signs that I wasn’t in some alternate universe. But phrases like “take its head off” and “zombie” and “not human” bounced around in that cotton, none of it taking hold. And now the “g” word. No.

  “No.” I gulped several breaths and threw my hands in the air. “Nope, can’t do it. You two are nuts. You’ve given me no proof, shown me nothing but some special effects and magic tricks—”

  Dylan looked at Tempe. She crooked an eyebrow. My eyes narrowed.

  There was a sudden blur of movement, a deep growl, and then I was staring up—way up into the face of a shaggy wolf or bear-like creature with a long snout and massive head.

  “Oh, f-f—wh… s-sa-sasquatch?”

  “He’s Finrir, Jack,” someone said from outside the cotton as the beast moved toward me. Tempe?

  Its paw came up, and I ducked away from the long claws as a mouth as big as a trashcan opened to reveal many, many razor edged teeth. I jerked back and slammed against the wall. Clubs rained down around me.

  The thing was as big around as a grizzly and at least eight feet tall. It stalked me, opening its cavernous jaws. My feet slipped on the wet floor and I went down, my head bouncing off of something. All I saw were those slavering teeth and odd intelligent eyes before everything went black.

  Chapter 41

  Tempe

  “Dylan, look what you’ve done.” I knelt at Jack’s side and touched the knot on his head where he’d struck the corner of the display. “Was that really necessary?” I asked. “He’ll probably want to leave and find a really normal place to live now. A town with only humans.” I said, more to myself than Dylan.

  I’d only recently realized how much Jack meant to me after learning to trust again. What would he do now that he’d seen a bit of Destiny’s and my true nature? Would the relationship that had blossomed between us wither and die? Would he take Jordie and run as far as he could get from us?

  Dylan shifted back into his human form. “Maybe not. He said he wanted answers. When he wakes up, we’ll tell him everything he wants to know, if he’s not too chicken to hear the whole truth.” He stood with his hands at his sides, looking down at Jack’s prone form. I didn’t like Dylan’s aura. It resembled a volcano in the middle of an eruption, fiery red and charcoal gray. “If he’s not on board, Tempe, he’s a problem.”

>   I flinched at the threat behind Dylan’s words and faced him. “You will not let anything happen to Jack.” Unspoken was something he wasn’t used to hearing from me, a personal threat. Where had the courage—or stupidity—to threaten this powerful Finrir come from? His head came up sharply and those dark man-lined eyes narrowed. For a few seconds, we locked eyes.

  Jack

  My head hurt like hell. I was trying to regain my wits when I heard voices. “Dylan, look what you’ve done.” I watched through slitted lids as she stepped toward me. I concentrated on not moving as she knelt at my side. She laid her hand against the lump where the shelf hit me. “—that really necessary?” she said. “He’ll probably want to leave and find a really normal place to live now. A town with only humans.”

  Most likely. It was all I could do not to flinch as Dylan shifted back into his Diablo form. “You know as well as I do a place like that doesn’t exist.” What? I’d hoped Destiny was an exception but apparently not. I’d handled a lot of surprises in my life but this… it was like something straight out of the movies. He hadn’t tried to kill me though. Yet. My fingers eased over the grip on my gun that was hidden under my jacket, not that bullets could do any good against this beast.

  He frowned down at Tempe. “He said he wanted answers.”

  “Uh, that was before…” She kept her hand on my skin. It was soothing but I didn’t let on I was awake. Call it recon or avoidance, I didn’t want to talk to her yet. I had a lot to process and there’d been so many lies. Though what would I have done if I’d known about the craziness, about her?

  Dylan said, “When he wakes up, we’ll tell him everything he wants to know, if he’s not too chicken to hear the whole truth.”

  Chicken, huh? He stood over me, only his hands in my vision. “If he’s not on board, Tempe, he’s a problem.” Whoa. Maybe this was where he killed me. I reminded myself that my status here had just changed along with my circumstances. I didn’t doubt that Dylan could take me out. But then Tempe surprised me.

  She drove to her feet and got in his face. “You will not let anything happen to Jack.” A growl sounded in Dylan’s throat and pressure stopped my ears up as if the barometer had taken a sudden dive. I got the feeling he wasn’t used to being threatened and she’d done it—to protect me. For a few seconds, they had a stare-off and I halfway expected a bear/stormwitch mini-war to commence but then he backed off, verbally at least. She must have bigger bolts in her bag of weather tricks than I’d seen.

  “There’s no time to coddle him,” Dylan said. “We have plans to make.”

  This guy just kept pissing me off. I may not understand what was going on exactly but coddling isn’t in my DNA. The inspector and I were going to have a conversation.

  “You heard me,” Tempe said. Dylan seemed to realize Tempe was prepared to do battle over this, over me. “Besides,” she continued, “Aurora said we’ll need our mortal friends during the Para-moon. I have to believe Jack will come around, especially after he’s had a chance to regroup and realize that Paramortals are actually just like him—defenders of the weak—not monsters. Just… not mortal.”

  Not monsters, eh? What did she mean by Paramortal and what was a Para-Moon? The Destiny dictionary was obviously different than Webster’s. Maybe I should get a copy. Damn, I was losing it. Concentrate.

  Tempe sighed, “I still can’t believe it—Dutch, alive. Why didn’t he come out of hiding earlier to help me find River?” Her voice cracked when she said, “Every one of you were in on this.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Dylan. I want to see Aurora. Of all people to lie to me.” She stooped once more by my side. Her fingers touched my neck to check my pulse, then after hesitating briefly, she rose and walked to the door.

  “I’ll call you after I’ve talked to your sheriff,” Dylan said.

  The door opened and Tempe said, “You better ask him if he’s my anything.” Then she called out, “I’m going now, Jack,” and the door slammed. A chuckle sounded above me and I pushed off the floor squeezing the “rain” out of my hair with my hands, slapping my sopping hat against my wet pants leg.

  Dylan leaned against the opposite wall, unsurprised. “Playing possum?” He looked like Diablo now, just a man, albeit a dangerously intense one. I wondered if some of that aura of danger came from the monster inside him.

  I didn’t want to believe what I’d learned today. This town wasn’t what I’d expected—understatement—but it was the first place Jordie and I had been able to even think of calling home since I’d left for the service. I couldn’t accept or reject what I’d seen until I got the facts but I realized now there’d been things happening in Destiny for months, small things that hadn’t made sense. I crossed my arms and looked at Dylan. “So, talk.”

  Tempe

  I was sure Jack had been pretending, his pulse halting under my fingertips when I touched him. He’d been listening to every word, waiting for me to leave, and while I was relieved, I understood why. He was horrified at seeing the freak I’d become in front of his eyes, not to mention Dylan’s Finrir. But that was just the tip of the iceberg. Zeus, I hope I was right about him.

  I got in my truck, but before I even started the engine, my phone rang. It was Dylan. “Jack’s fine. I told him if he was just going to wallow, he might as well leave. We don’t have time for his pity party.”

  I smiled. Knowing Jack and his pride, that had probably been the perfect thing to say. I heard him curse in the background. Dylan said in a low voice, “Don’t worry, I’ll make him see reason.” He must have read my mind because he added, “I won’t hurt him.” Jack said something else and Dylan growled, “Unless he does something stupid.”

  I gave a heavy sigh as I cranked my truck. “What about Dutch?”

  A pause, then Dylan said, “What about him?”

  “When will I see him?” I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice.

  “When he’s ready, Tempest.”

  We’d see about that. I was going to get some answers, but more importantly, we had to find River before his life ebbed away. Surely, my father could help.

  At the end of the driveway, perched atop the clubhouse mailbox, sat Marty. I drew to a stop, my window level with the box, and rolled it down. As if he’d never had a problem with my truck—the little diva—he took hold of the top of the door and swung in, dropping lightly onto the seat.

  I pushed the accelerator and drove out of the subdivision. The truck swayed and bucked, but Marty floated on air, unaffected by the truck’s movement. He tilted his head back against the doorframe, studying me as I drove, an odd feeling let me tell you, being under the microscope by a thousand-year-old mini-demon. Okay, so he’s not actually a demon, but with his pointy tail, skin like a wrinkled mushroom, bright amber eyes and sharp teeth, he’d pass for one.

  “I’ve been remiss in my duties. The family would be very upset with me if I let something happen to you,” he said.

  I gawked. Since when had Marty become a member of the family? He hung around River a lot… “What?”

  He cocked his head and the skin above his eye wrinkled. “I’ve been serving your family for a very long time, Tempest.”

  Now, all of a sudden, everyone was calling me by my full name. What was up with that? All I’d gotten from Dylan was that cryptic, It’s not necessary anymore.

  I pulled into the driveway of an abandoned house and parked, leaving the engine running. Exasperated, I turned to the Imp. “What are you getting at, Marty?”

  He uncrossed his legs, climbed up onto the back of the seat, wrinkly butt in the air, and retrieved a package from the mail tub. Seating himself on the square box, he placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward. Let’s get serious, his posture said. “You need me to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

  Helloo. Pot—kettle! I couldn’t dismiss what he said though. This ugly little creature might be a bit on the unpredictable side, but he did have resources. He’d already
unearthed one clue, and his connection to River and Dutch had to be an asset.

  His little wrinkled snout turned up. “I’m not ugly. That hurts my feelings, Tempest.”

  You can read my mind, I thought toward him with all my strength. Marty just tilted his head. I focused my eyes on his. He stared innocently back at me—a word that doesn’t apply to Imps.

  Shrugging, I said, “I guess we could give the familiar thing a try.”

  He stuck his arm out. A human sized hand morphed out of his pointy paw like some elasto cartoon character’s. I guess that meant we had to shake on it. Then, flipping the hand over, he spat into the center.

  Eeeuw! Imp spit. I looked Marty over closely. His loose flappy skin was the color and texture of wet Louisiana gumbo, giving him an unpalatable veneer. “I have two stipulations.” His hand shrank back a bit.

  I said, “This is only temporary, until we find River.” He nodded. “And, you have to have a new look.”

  “What’s wrong with my ‘look’?” He posed, twisting back and forth, the other hand on his hip. Finally, he stilled. “What do you have in mind?”

  “You decide, but it has to be something that doesn’t call attention to you or look odd to humans.” I thought about it. “You could just be Rogue. Now git, I’m busy.”

  He poked his hand at me again. I looked down at that nasty looking wad in his palm, thought of River, and took the rubbery appendage in mine, only to find my hand captured and held as he met my eyes. “Everything is going to be okay, Tempest.”

  Tears sprang up, and I blinked. I wanted to smart off to this tiny unexpected source of compassion, but his sincere expression made that impossible. He seemed so sure. I closed my eyes allowing hope to rise up. I cleared my throat and asked, “How do you know?”

  He squeezed my hand. “Trust me, Tempe. Over the centuries, we’ve been through tougher challenges than this. Against overwhelming odds, we’ve faced fae wars, Para-moons, and evil you can’t imagine. You and River, even your lover, are but infants in our Paramortal world. There are always changes, but remember, much remains the same.”