by E A Price
The unbidden thought lingered, and she tried to banish it. No, she’d only met Kurt for like four minutes – she should not be thinking about him like that. Besides, it wasn’t like she was looking to settle down – in spite of what her dad thought. She had more wild oats to sow – all of them in fact, though the thought of sowing them wasn’t exactly enticing.
Chad went back to watching TV, saving her from any more discussion. Yep, this could be her life. She was grateful when Denzel turned up, and she could escape to her room to tinker with her inventions.
Nope, there was no way she was mating Chad, and not just because her head was clouded with the image of a certain, hunky male witch.
*
Hank let out an unmanly sob and roughly rubbed the tears forming in his eyes. His inner wolf howled at him to pull it together, but he didn’t care.
How was he supposed to feel? His best friend was dead. Derek was gone – forever. Even his asshole inner wolf couldn’t call him a sissy for being upset over that.
Hank took another swig of his whiskey. He’d been drinking in a bar until they kicked him out for hitting on the bartender a little too aggressively. Aggressive my ass he thought morosely. He just wanted to have a little chat, and a little screw in the alley wouldn’t have gone amiss either.
He rubbed his bleary eyes again. He hadn’t slept since before the Halloween party, spending half the night with his friends and the rest with a cute bobcat shifter he picked up at the party. His wolf yawned widely, and Hank followed. He just needed a little lie down.
Hank stumbled through the gate, his feet dragging through the grass before he fell to his knees, then onto his face. He scratched at his itchy costume - he was still dressed as Frankenstein's monster, although most of his make-up was peeling away.
Vaguely, he wondered where he was, but his eyes did not want to cooperate, and the ground felt so soft and so inviting…
Barely asleep, he felt something under him move.
“Stop it,” Hank grumbled, suspecting it was one of his many sleeping partners. For someone who hated commitment and clingy females, he enjoyed cuddling and often fell asleep on his bedmates.
Something poked at him again. Who the hell is doing that? Hank rolled over, ready to pounce on the person annoying him, but the sight before him made his blood run cold. His wolf howled in fear as the green hand thrust up from the ground, followed by the decaying body of a zombie.
“No, no, no! Zombie! Zombie!” he screamed, jumping to unsteady feet.
All around him, undead creatures were crawling out of graves and lumbering towards him.
“Keep away!” he screamed, but they kept coming for him.
Hank turned on his heel and started running full throttle – directly into a stone statue.
*
“And that’s them sleeping, and that’s them awake…”
Gunner flipped through picture after picture of his triplets while Wayne yawned and Avery smiled indulgently. She expected he’d get tired of taking thousands of pictures of his cubs, but that day may be a long way off yet.
Avery coughed politely, and Gunner snapped to attention. He was a doting and besotted new father, but there were times when his job came first.
“I got a witness,” said Wayne, “homeless guy who calls himself George Washington. Said our victim was running around screaming about zombies and smacked right into the statue at such a speed that...”
"His head almost came clean off," finished Gunner.
“I spoke to his next of kin – older brother,” added Avery. “He said our victim liked to drink a lot, and that he was probably hallucinating.” Not that zombies didn't exist; it was just that they didn’t tend to hang out in graveyards. “He said our victim had been terrified of zombies ever since he was twelve and a Halloween prank went wrong.”
“What was the prank?” asked Wayne.
“He didn’t give many details, just something about our victim being stuck in a coffin with a zombie for eight hours.”
“Yikes.”
“Plus, I found out that he was close friends with our other victim – Derek.”
Gunner’s eyebrow ticked. “So, we have two victims who start hollering about things they’re terrified of and then immediately accidentally kill themselves, and they both knew each other.”
Avery nodded, her blonde locks bouncing. “Yep.”
“According to the statement from the sister of victim number one,” said Wayne, “he was napping when it happened. And George Washington told me victim number two was sleeping on the ground before he got up and started acting like Abraham Lincoln's wife.”
Avery and Gunner frowned, and Wayne shrugged. “George's words and George was also kind of pissed that our victim was sleeping in his favorite spot. Anyway, it seems like they both had nightmares.”
Rick, the medical examiner, walked over and joined them, and Gunner filled him in.
Avery wrinkled her nose. “Is it possible their fears are causing them to die?”
Rick shrugged. “Well, technically, people can be so scared that they suffer heart attacks or heart failure and that can kill them. So it is possible in that respect. But for these two, looks like their fear made them act irrationally, and that’s what killed them.”
“So if their fear is made real to them,” said Gunner slowly, “they act without thinking.”
“Why these two guys though?” asked Wayne, “there has to be some motive behind all this.”
“Maybe there are more victims that we don’t know about.” Gunner turned to Avery. “Can you ask Raf to liaise with the LLPD and see if they have any similar cases?”
Raf was now the SEA liaison to the LLPD. Given that he used to work for them, and was human, they found him a lot less objectionable than any other SEA member. Especially as some SEA members were prone to shift into their animal forms and chase LLPD members around for fun. To be fair, that was mostly Isis and on her mate, Raf’s insistence, she stopped. She wasn’t the most human-friendly shifter in the world – unless the human happened to be her mate.
Rick said, “I can’t say any of the bodies who have come across my table have bared any resemblance to these cases, but it is possible that people suffering the same… affliction may have died in less dramatic circumstances and would never have been seen by the city coroner or me. But I’ll do an autopsy – maybe I’ll find something I didn’t see on the first victim.”
“Maybe the crime scene techs will see something we don’t,” suggested Wayne.
*
“They’re adorable,” agreed Sydney as the huge polar bear shifter bore down on her with a picture of his triplets. She wasn’t lying, but she certainly wouldn’t have dared say anything else.
Gunner grunted in satisfaction at her answer and moved along to find his next victim. Sydney let out a sigh of relief. She had no problem with the huge man. While she wouldn’t categorize him as easy going, she wouldn’t put him in the same file as Cutter either. But, it wasn’t unknown for agents to be pretty aggressive when it came to their cases – even going so far as blaming crime scene techs for lack of progress, so she wanted to stay on his good side.
If only she could make some progress. She wasn’t built to be an agent. Sydney didn’t have it within her to be able to chase after suspects and question them. She would feel compelled to believe everything they told her. She wasn’t tough enough to doubt anyone. She was a sucker for a sob story. But, she was good at her job and was keen to show the SEA how big of an asset she was. She wasn’t overly ambitious, but she had visions of her cracking a case wide open. Then maybe she could sit at the cool table at lunch… ah, she's reverted to high school again.
“Hello, again.”
Sydney spun around to find Kurt grinning at her. She blushed before she could stop herself. His visage hadn’t left her since they met the day before, and she couldn’t repeat the things she’d done to him in her dreams.
“Hello,” she said in what was supposed to be a husky voi
ce but was really a squeak.
“So, ah…”
“I, ah…”
“You first.”
“Oh, no, you go first.”
“Oh, I really wasn’t saying anything.”
“Me neither!”
They both snickered and she relaxed marginally.
Sydney chewed on her lip. She hated herself for thinking it – the victim certainly didn’t deserve a nasty death - but she was kind of a little glad that there was another crime scene for them to run into one another again. Not that she had any intention of doing anything. She was only striving to get out of band geek territory. Sydney wasn’t ready for anything as brave as asking a guy out.
However, while she was more than happy to stare into his beautiful eyes all day, there was one thing that puzzled her.
“Why are you wearing oven mitts?”
*
The smile froze on Kurt’s face.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Perhaps as a way to embarrass him, or maybe because she really had no idea what to do with him, his director suggested he wear oven mitts to try and limit the damage he was doing. Director Melinda and a few other agency witches valiantly tried to bind his magic, but it was no good. Melinda had wanted to send him home, but Kurt hadn’t wanted that, and Trina put herself forward to stick close by him and undo any damage he might happen to cause. He really should have gone home; Trina was all but holding his hand and trying to lick his neck. But on finding Sydney at the crime scene, he figured it was worth it.
Trina was currently being interrogated by Gunner as to why she agreed that his triplets were the cutest cubs in the world, and he had a few moments alone with Sydney. Though, he wished he wasn’t wearing oven mitts. But then, if his mother’s hunch was correct, the reason for his wonky magic was standing right in front of him.
Sydney’s cute little nose scrunched as she looked at the offending mitts. Honestly, before that day he wasn’t sure he’d ever used them. He used his oven to store books.
He let out a short, forced laugh. “Yeah, I’m having a few issues with my magic.”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up in interest. Her aura blazed in beautiful brightness, and for a second he thought she knew about his mother’s hunch too. Would she scream in delight and jump into his arms – a scenario that wasn’t exactly unappealing. Or would she be disappointed? He was surprised to find that he was a little fearful of the answer.
In reality, it was neither of his imaginings.
“What’s causing your problems? I find the whole use of magic fascinating.”
Kurt raised his eyebrows, and his smile returned. “You do?”
“Of course.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’ve been studying different types of magic for years – but it’s so… so unwieldy that I’ve barely scratched the surface. I mean, isn’t it fascinating that a group of people can do such marvelous things? Such strange things that you can’t even create machines to do the same thing? I mean people play chess, but now we have computers that play chess. But ask a computer to hex someone and…” Sydney raised her fingers to her cheeks, and her eyelashes fluttered as she looked down. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”
“No,” he said with feeling. “I’ve never met anyone so excited about witchcraft, and I know about a hundred witches.”
Sydney gave him a doubtful look. “I’m being silly.”
“Of course not.” It was very warming how thrilled she was with magic. Most likely their kids would have magic.
Kurt could feel his arousal stirring as visions of cute little girls and boys with brown skin and mad curly hair ran around his head destroying all their toys with magical zaps.
A gravestone a few feet away exploded, and Sydney squeaked, jumping forward and into Kurt’s waiting arms. He wrapped them around her instinctively and took a moment to enjoy how soft her body felt against his.
The agents and other crime scene techs around them scrambled, aiming their guns at nothing and looking around to see who was attacking.
“Sorry, guys, my bad,” he called, still not letting go of Sydney. “I’ll pay for the damage.”
There were a few curses and dirty looks thrown his way, but he really couldn’t care.
Sydney looked up at him, her chin resting on his chest. She really was tiny. Perfect handful, he thought approvingly. The passionate red in her aura dominated, pulsing around her body as her arousal grew. Yep, oven mitts or not, she was definitely hot for him.
“You know,” he said hoarsely, trying to angle his groin away from her – they were at a crime scene, after all, she didn’t need to know what was going on in his pants. “Given that the headstone blew up because of me, maybe this isn’t the safest place for you to be.”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, “feels pretty safe.”
Kurt could just lean down and press his mouth to hers. Those soft, pillowy lips were beckoning and who was he to resist? It would be so easy, so perfect, so…
“Kurt!” screeched a very unwelcome voice.
Sydney flinched and tried to jump away from him, but he wouldn’t let her get away that easily. His arms slackened a little, but he still held them loosely around her.
“Sydney,” scolded Trina, tottering on her heels across the grass. “Let Kurt go; he has work to do.”
Kurt snapped at Trina not to be rude, and her face tightened in annoyance, but the damage was done. Sydney was already slipping from his grasp, scuttling away to join the other crime scene techs.
Before she did, he clutched her hand. “You know if you ever want to pick my brain about magic, just say the word.”
Sydney bit her lip. “I might take you up on that.”
She smiled briefly before flitting away in embarrassment. He took great enjoyment in watching her ass wiggle as she tried to do a fast walk over to the other technicians.
Trina scowled at him, but he ignored her. She had nothing to be upset about; they broke up when he realized she was nuts – stalker nuts. Thankfully, she wasn’t following him anymore – or at least he hadn’t caught her following him anymore. But given that his mom thought Trina was the bee’s knees – a strange phrase Great Aunt Zinnia uses – he couldn’t get rid of her entirely. Not when Trina turned up at the intermittent family brunch.
For the interest of his magic, he really ought to spend as much time as he can with Sydney - to see if his attraction to her did have anything to do with his malfunctioning powers. Yep, it was definitely about his magic. No other reason. None whatsoever.
*
Wade ran his hands through his hair – what was left of it anyway. In his worry for Susie, he had started plucking it out. He looked like he was going bald.
His wolf snarled at the human doctor.
“What do you mean there’s nothing wrong with her?” he demanded.
His mate looked to be at death’s door and the idiot in front of him was acting like it was nothing.
The doctor looked unfazed by Wade anger. “She displays the symptoms of wolfsbane poisoning, but she hasn’t ingested any. We’re wondering if perhaps this is all in her imagination. Has she ever suffered from…”
“She’s not crazy,” ground out Wade. “She’s sick and you need to fix her!”
His wolf howled for their beautiful mate. Why had they not told her she was beautiful? Told her they needed her? Told her they couldn’t possibly live without her?
“Save my mate,” he growled.
The doctor’s eyes crinkled with concern. “We’ll run some more tests,” he said kindly, although not with much hope.
“Please, save her,” he whispered, the fight starting to leave him. She was all that mattered.
*
Sydney noisily sucked up the remnants of her vanilla milkshake. Course, any noise she made was easily drowned out as her father inhaled four hamburgers and six orders of fries – his appetite was enormous.
He’d called her, demanded she come and have lunch with him, and naturally she folded quicker than bed linen
. She should be at work, analyzing everything they found at the crime scene, but when Daddy calls…
Her mom was out of town visiting her sister, and Sydney’s brothers couldn’t make it - Denzel, Dustin, Brad and Marlon were all hard at work for the rhino crash’s construction company. Sydney and all her brothers were named after her mom’s favorite actors – her mom had very diverse tastes when it came to movies. Her dad was a foreman for the company and could be more flexible with his hours.
Sydney was desperate to get back to work, but she didn’t want to upset her dad. He missed her when she moved out of the family home – her brothers were all still there and would be until they mated a female from the crash and got their own home. But Sydney knew he missed her and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Though, that thought changed a couple of seconds later when Chad walked into the diner.
Damnit – another setup!
Her dad called him over and the two embraced and then sat down opposite Sydney like a solid wall of muscle. She was polite for a few minutes, even taking part in the small talk between the two men – mostly about the rhino crash – before she asked to speak to her dad in private.
“I’m very annoyed at you,” she admonished, which was a lot like a mouse telling an elephant that she was very unhappy. “I’ve told you I'm not interested in Chad.”
Bill Weathers grunted and folded his arms. “Nothing wrong with Chad, or you mating him. I had an arranged mating, and I made it work.”