How Nina Got Her Fang Back: Accidental Quickie (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 13)

by Dakota Cassidy

  I thought about what I had imagined and realized something. These would be vampires, or at least pretty damn close. One night I had a dream about these creatures that had been hibernating since the ice age, but now that the earth was warming up, they were waking up. I was completely terrified and I swore I wouldn’t think about it, but I broke that promise quickly. In fact, I thought about it all the time, because I knew it would be an excellent idea to have in a book. I figured it might fit best in a dystopian setting that was the result of a cataclysmic climate shift, the kind that would pretty much wipe out known civilization. The vampires were awakened and they fed off of the humans that tried to survive. Maybe the humans even picked some of their own to hand over to the hungry vampires, in an attempt to appease them and avoid being attacked. The big decision was whether to write it as a young adult horror story or as a steamy romance. In the end, young adult won out over vampire smut.

  I knew that I would be able come up with a very marketable plot by rehashing some themes of the most popular young adult, dystopian fiction. The title that came to mind was Regurgitant. I know, I sometimes disappoint people with my titles, but this one sounded perfect. It had a ring to it for some reason. I wasn’t sure if it was even a word. I looked it up and it meant a backward blood flow in a heart valve. Then I knew I had to use that title. It seemed to hint at the recycled dystopian theme. Better yet, it had to do with blood flow. Perfect! Regurgitant it was.

  I could already envision myself getting a contract. Who knows? Perhaps there would someday be an entire Regurgitant trilogy. I spent the next few days concentrating on my stories, splitting my time between the two. Above all, I was particularly mindful not to use the names of anyone that I could remember, lest they become caught up in a real life story.

  Only a week had passed since the coup d'état at the Witches Union. Luna and I were enjoying a quiet moment at the little table in my kitchen. I had a cup of tea and a stack of unread copies of the Chicago Tribune that had piled up. Luna was on the table preening herself. All cat lovers understand that it is a perfectly proper thing to have the cat on the table. And as long as you don’t have any company, it is perfectly fine for the cat’s tail to accidentally swipe the sugar bowl. I lazily flipped through the pages of newsprint with a sip of tea here and a bite of a bagel there. Luna pawed my phone closer to me, gave me a knowing stare, and then my phone began to ring. I nearly spit my tea across the table at her uncanny prediction.

  And so it began with an early morning phone call from Kelly. I was immediately urged to get back into some spell crafting. My phone chimed again. It became a three-way call. Of course Lindsey was in on this conversation now as well. Luna turned her attention to the stack of papers.

  “Leigh! Lindsey and I would like you to do a tune-up on Derek and Luke.”

  “A tune-up?” I asked, and then Luna interrupted me.

  “Meow, meow. Meow.” Luna was pushing a copy of the Tribune towards me. I glanced down and actually winced at the picture of a gorilla proudly urinating from atop the Buckingham Fountain. The headline read Galloping Gorillas in Grant Park. “Meow.”

  “I know, Luna, I know. Also, that headline is a little cheesy for the Tribune, wouldn’t you say? Personally, I’d have gone with Marauding Monkeys Mayhem on Michigan.”

  “Meow.”

  “Are you talking to your cat again?”

  “No. Yes. I mean, don’t you think those poor guys have been through enough? Besides, you make them sound like a couple of cars that are overdue on their maintenance plan. Talk about objectifying the opposite sex!” I had to laugh about how Kelly could sound so matter-of-fact and desperate both at the same time.

  Lindsey jumped in. “Enough? No. Not even close. They can handle it. And I would like to remind you that you met Hunter in a hunk line-up on my roof. If I recall correctly, you looked him over like he was nothing more than a horse in a livestock auction. About the only thing you didn’t check over were his teeth. Or did you?” Lindsey and Kelly were laughing at the memory of that day. I was laughing, too, but I was also picturing Hunter’s tanned and toned body. I shook my head and tried not to think about him for the moment. I missed him already.

  “You know what we need?” Kelly asked.

  “Straitjackets.” I quipped.

  “And tranquilizer injections.” Lindsey interjected.

  “Lunch and some shopping, smartasses. Well, lunch for sure. Shopping may not involve actually buying anything, if my credit card company has any say in it, but it would be good to get out and about and act like normal girls for a change. And then the obligatory slumber party. So, meet me at my place about eleven? No broom travel today.” I was quick to add the caveat about my broom. No need to be in a hurry to fire up that little pocket sized, catastrophe-causing, witchcraft powered technology.

  “And let’s dress up just a bit. Have some fun.” Kelly added, but it almost went without saying. Getting the right mix of classy casual was an important part of our big girl outings.

  “Mag Mile? Or Old town?” I asked.

  “The Mile!” Lindsey yelped. This was exactly what we needed, window shopping on the Magnificent Mile, Chicago’s premier shopping district on Michigan Avenue. Overboard, top of the line, much too expensive and exclusive for us, yet it was still fun to dip our toes in the pools of consumer excess. We always dressed up, but it’s not like we could afford to look pretentious. Besides, we were taking the L. That’s what Chicagoans call the elevated rail. Women looking to purchase the latest fashions, fresh from the runways of Paris, didn’t arrive on the L. Nor did they hop into shady, questionable, smoke filled taxi cabs, which would complete our last leg of the window shopping journey.

  “Whatever we end up doing, you are both staying here tonight. A good old fashioned sleepover would be fun. I have a few ideas rolling around for new books and I’d like to know what you think.”

  “That sounds awesome. Lindsey and I have been collaborating on a little romance story, and we could use another set of eyes to look it over.”

  “Good! Now I won’t feel like I’m the only one that dreams up crazy little love stories.” Once our plans had been set in motion, I went back to finish my tea and flipped through the papers some more. I looked again at the glaring words Galloping Gorillas in Grant Park and flipped it over. “Meow.”

  “I agree. Fucking critics.” That one, which Luna had so blatantly pushed in front of me, was then quickly tossed in the trash. “Come on, Luna, help me pick out something.” We walked to my room and Luna sat under the dress that Gertie had made for me.

  “Meow. Meow.”

  I looked it over and smiled. I really missed Gertie, but I knew she had her hands full on her paranormal plantation, even with Randy there to help out. And that was another thing, Randy is a bit of a scatterbrain himself. There is no telling what level of chaos those two could achieve, and I really looked forward to learning every detail.

  Chapter 2

  Day Tripping

  Kelly and Lindsey arrived just before noon and to my surprise, they were wearing their Gertie signature line of summer dresses. Each different, yet all in floral patterns. I laughed when I realized that we each had the same idea.

  “Did you notice it yet?” Lindsey asked me.

  “Yeah, we all miss Gertie already.”

  “There is that, but… check this out.” Lindsey made a poor impression of a model posing the newest designer creation. A very poor impression.

  “I got it! You’re a tired and disgruntled waitress waiting on an order! No, wait. You’re a constipated school teacher!” I teased.

  Lindsey grabbed the hem of her dress and shook it. “Damn! Why isn’t this thing working?”

  I was really perplexed and worried about Lindsey. Kelly stepped into the middle of my living room and said, “Let’s try this. Lindsey, unzip me, please.” Lindsey hopped over and worked the zipper down on the back of Kelly’s dress. When Kelly pulled the dress down and stepped out of it, I was momentarily dumbfounded.<
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  Kelly picked up the dress and the peculiar scene made me wonder what was wrong with the both of them. “So—does the exhaust leak in your car, Kelly?” Kelly just stood there in her bra and panties and shook the dress a few times. “Seriously, what the hell are you doing?” I asked.

  “You’ll see. Just wait.” I didn’t have to wait long. With one more shake, the dress transformed its colors from yellow to a beautiful azure.

  This came as a real surprise to me. “That little witch! What kind of magic did she sew into that dress? What else can they do?” I was pleasantly surprised by Gertie’s creativity. “Do you suppose she knew that she did this? Or was it one of her accidents?”

  Lindsey pondered my questions. “I don’t know. She never mentioned this to any of us. So far, all I’ve noticed is they can change colors and patterns with a few good shakes. Just keep doing it until you find one you like. They all seem to be very Gertie-ish to me. You know, flowery and cute.”

  “Well, the good thing is that we don’t have to all wear matching colors and patterns. I’m not walking down Michigan Avenue looking like we are part of some obscure cult.” Kelly whipped the material until it turned yellow and was covered in the faint designs of delicate flowers. She gave it a satisfied look, slipped it back on, and we were on our way.

  It was Lindsey’s driving to the Metra station that changed our plans for the day. Our chatter about Hunter, Gertie, Randy and his ideas for the plantation had completely distracted us. And they made us forget how easily Lindsey got mixed up on directions. Before we realized it, we were stopping in front of a café in the Old Town section of Lincoln Park and not at the Fullerton Metra Station. To be fair, one would think it’s just the same neighborhood, right? Not so much. I should clarify that when people refer to Lincoln Park, people know it as a college area. It’s flooded with young and well-to-do hipsters, and even has a fair number of older people trying to hang on to their youth. It’s trendy, expensive, and even if you’re a fifty year old lawyer, you can live out your college days in perpetual bliss.

  Then there is the other Lincoln Park. The fringe outside of that scene. Still nice, still expensive, but a tad bit more sleepy and residential. That’s where I ended up. I felt truly blessed to have landed my first teaching job in such a great neighborhood. When I broke the news to my father, however, he wrung his hands in complete despair. He actually looked up to the heavens and held his hands out, and he begged God not to curse him by sending his youngest daughter to Lincoln Park. He was still living in 1968, and he imagined that he would find me curled up in some jail, charged with inciting a riot. Yes, jailed with my bare feet, smudged with the dirt of the streets, peeking out from under an ankle length tie-dyed gown. Oy! And most certainly pregnant, after attending an imagined, outdoor orgy while out of my mind on drugs. My mom was of little help. She brought me pamphlets that educated me on STDs and warned me about joining a cult, “like that girl we saw on television.”

  That Lincoln Park no longer existed. It went away along with the fading memories of Abbie Hoffman and the rest of the anti-establishment Yippies. It wasn’t until my parents finally visited that my father finally beamed with pride. “You see! Look what my daughter is doing here! To this place!” You would think I had single-handedly saved Sodom and Gomorrah from divine retribution. So, that’s my embarrassingly proud dad. In my youth, I’m pretty sure I told hundreds of people that I was adopted, but now I’ve come to appreciate my parents for who they are. I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

  Lindsey stopped the car with a whiplash inducing jerk. “Where the hell is the station?”

  Kelly never missed an opportunity for some sort of snarky comment. “Follow your nose, hon. When you pick up the scent of bum urine, just follow it until you hear the raging schizophrenics. When you hear that, you’ve made it to the Red Line.”

  “And if you’re really lucky, you’ll get the added bonus of seeing a naked person jumping the turnstile.” I remembered that I had witnessed that particular incident myself. I looked around and then I sounded just like Lindsey. “Where the hell is the station? I should have been paying better attention. I think you went the opposite way, because now we’re in the campus area of Lincoln Park.”

  Kelly appraised the situation and after a few seconds she decided that she would rather stay right where Lindsey parked the car. “You know what? I really don’t want to go down on Michigan Avenue today. Really.” She waved her arms about. “Just look around. The atmosphere is less stuffy, and there are more than a few cuties in the area.”

  “I agree, Kelly. What do you say, Leigh? As a matter of fact, check out that guy at the table. The one over there on the end.” Lindsey nodded towards a table on the sidewalk in front of the café. A very muscular man with a thick head of black hair was seated alone. His back was to us and it appeared that he had a small cat carrier on the table in front of him.

  “Well, I could care less about looking at anyone but Hunter. And I mean that sincerely, but I’m perfectly fine hanging out around here, if that’s what you want to do. There are a couple of new shops just a block over that I’d rather check out than some guy who carries his lunch in a cage. And as far as other cuties wandering about, I have no need to gawk at them.”

  “Hey, just because you’re on a diet doesn’t mean you can’t look over the menu.” Kelly gave me a nudge.

  “Now you sound like your Uncle Carmine.”

  “I’ve learned every cheesy line I know from listening to that man. Hold on! Let’s take a walk past that guy. There is something very familiar about him.” Kelly said and then she deliberately walked around to the other side of his table to get a look at his face. She slowly strolled back behind him and then quickly ran over to us. “You won’t believe it! Guess who that is?”

  “That guy! Oh, yeah! He’s the guy that drinks a mocha latte with a caged animal.” I joked.

  Lindsey followed Kelly’s same stalker patrol route past the man at the table. She returned with a huge, knowing smile. “It’s Gertie’s fireman! What a coincidence. Come on, let’s go and see if he remembers me or Kelly. Come on!” I was really reluctant to just barge in on a complete stranger with the way the three of us can sometimes be. I was already embarrassed for what we were about to do, if that’s possible. Yes, I was embarrassed at the anticipation of what was about to unfold, and we hadn’t even gotten to his table yet.

  Chapter 3

  Table for Two

  We rounded the table and all three of us were lined up to face him as if he were an animal on exhibit in a zoo. The man could have been peeled from the cover of any romance novel. He had that rugged look, a dark tan, and steely blue eyes. His tight t-shirt seemed as if it had been painted on his muscular body. His thick black hair was not long, but long enough that a couple of strands fell over one eyebrow as he glanced up at us. The look on his face told me that he was completely puzzled about the reason for three young women lined up in front of him. If this was Gertie’s fireman, it would be easy to see how she had been so completely infatuated with him. Kelly took the first step on our foray through the experience of public humiliation. “Hey there! What a coincidence seeing you again!”

  The man just stared as if he tried to place Kelly’s face, but he couldn’t. After a few seconds he spoke. “Excuse me? I think you have me confused with somebody else.” I knew it. Kelly and Lindsey were completely wrong.

  Kelly was not about to give in that easily. “Oh come on. You really don’t remember me? Kelly? And you have to remember Lindsey here.” She looked at Lindsey who reenacted her coughing fit from the night of the fire. Enough was enough. I reached over and grabbed a handful of Lindsey’s dress. I gave it a tug to let her know it was time to retreat from this stranger. The man had apparently lost interest in us, and now turned his attention to a black cat that was curled up inside the cage.

  I had forgotten about Gertie’s magical needlework, and now I felt my mouth hanging open as I gasped for air—or words. Lindsey’s dress had
reacted to the tug I gave to the fabric by transforming into a shimmering gold color and then to clear. Yes, clear. As in no color, transparent, invisible. Kelly had the same fish-out-of-water look as I did. The man looked up from the little cat carrier and stared at Lindsey. Visible to everyone in the area, Lindsey was now standing there in a sexy red lace thong and bra. She had obviously added what appeared to be fists full of tissues to the cups of her bra to fill out her dress a little. It had to have been a hastily done job. A last second decision made to use whatever bra padding material was handy. Her boobs looked like a pair of stuffed little Cornish hens with bits of toilet paper hanging from their asses. More than a few honking horns and rude comments could be heard from the passing traffic.

  Kelly caught her breath and threw out a snarky quip. “You know something, Lindsey? There are these things called padded bras. You might want to look into picking one up sometime.”

  “Thank you, Kelly. As if I needed a padded—” Lindsey looked down and finally realized that she was baring her lace skivvies and her freshly stuffed Cornish hens. “Jesus! What happened?” She shrieked and threw her hands wildly about as she tried to decide what to cover up first. I jumped in front of her to shield her from any more scrutiny by the handsome stranger. Kelly stood behind her and kept her mostly hidden from the amazed onlookers.

  “I am so sorry. Please excuse her. We were just taking her in for a psych evaluation. Poor thing, it’s really not her fault.” I stepped backwards and we moved our Lindsey sandwich slowly away from the table.

  Kelly was feverishly tugging on a piece of the invisible fabric in an attempt to bring some color, any color, back to the dress. “It’s not working, Leigh, it’s not working.” She said in a sing-song voice as if nobody would otherwise detect the air of desperation that surrounded her.