Hoofin’ It: A Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count)

by RJ Blain

  Marian had no trouble keeping up with me as I climbed the steps, taking them two at a time, although we were both breathing hard by the time we reached my door. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s a an empath, and I’m pretty sure she’s attuned to sexual relationships, so she can tell at a glance if a couple is having trouble conceiving. She’ll cry to the incubus, and the incubus will take matters into his own hands.”

  “You already knew incubi could control reproduction! You’re seriously telling me I didn’t have to explain that?”

  I held my hands up. “In my defense, I didn’t know how that club operated and had no idea what to think.”

  “You sly bastard.”

  Testing my door, I discovered it was unlocked, which warned me I still had company. I peeked inside to find Amy sprawled on my couch wearing my satin sheets and a smile. “Oh, look. It’s trouble. Good evening, Amy.”

  “You’re not even surprised. How unfair,” the succubus complained.

  “Larry told me Ernesto sent over dinner.”

  “That tattler. You’ve turned gray. What were you two doing to be panting so hard? Making out in the stairwell without me?”

  “Running up the steps,” I corrected, heading for my kitchen to see what sort of dinner Ernesto thought was appropriate for two starved humans. Enough sushi for six waited on my counter, a treat I never would have bought for myself. The round went to the vampire, and I’d have to pay him back later. “You like sushi, Marian?”

  “Love it.”

  “He must think we’re going to die of malnutrition. Are you having any, Amy?”

  “No, it’s for you love birds. He thought it would be an appropriate snack for you to feed each other when you’re catching your breath in bed.”

  Of course the succubus would assume I’d sleep with Marian. While the idea appealed a great deal, I couldn’t see myself begging for a repeat, at least not until I got a better idea of how she’d react to having her basic principles tested by Ernesto and his extended family of vampires and demons. “There’s easily enough sushi here for six people.”

  “That means you can spend an entire day keeping your badge babe occupied. You can thank us later.”

  My face heated. “Amy!”

  “He’s very shy, Marian. You’ll have to get aggressive with him. I recommend you feed him first. Human males get so weak when they haven’t been fed. Wouldn’t want his performance to suffer because he’s hungry.”

  I sighed and hung my head, my face burning even hotter at Amy’s complete disregard for my privacy. “Thanks, Amy. Do you have any other gems of wisdom?”

  “Of course. Since his daddy’s a werewolf, you won’t have to let him rest for long, though I do recommend taking a few minutes to let him get a drink. Reward him with tidbits of sushi; he loves seafood and is too cheap to buy it for himself, as he views it as a special occasion food. Have fun, kids. Stay up as late as you want. Ernie made certain a few friends in high places are aware you’ll both be unavailable tomorrow, so you have all the time in the world. The general word down the line is you both had a long day, traffic was terrible, and you didn’t get in until late. There was also a mysterious overbooking at the first few hotels you tried, resulting in you both coming here. If I come back here tomorrow and you two haven’t exhausted each other to a coma-like state, I’ll have to help. A certain prude named Shane wouldn’t like that, as he’s a werewolf’s son.”

  I whirled around in time to watch Amy slither off the couch, my sheets pooling to the floor around her. Striding towards the door, the succubus paused beside Marian, whispered something in the FBI agent’s ear, and swept out of my apartment, laughing merrily as she closed the door behind her.

  “Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not.” Marian joined me in the kitchen, her brows rising at the excessive selection of sushi waiting for us. She grabbed a piece and popped it into her mouth. “Well, we certainly aren’t going to starve.”

  “I’ll say.” Shrimp waiting on perfect beds of rice lured me into grabbing one and savoring every nibble. Maybe Ernesto had been wise to send so much, because the first bite reminded my stomach it hadn’t been fed anything in almost a day. “I feel like I should set the table and pretend to be a civilized adult.”

  “Food is here, table is over there. Why waste the effort?”

  Too tired and hungry to argue, I grabbed another piece and went to work appeasing my appetite with Marian matching me bite for bite. Though we were both ravenous, by the time I couldn’t handle the thought of eating anymore, the amount of leftovers intimidated me. “If you want to take a shower, the bathroom’s the door on the right. I’ll take care of cleaning up and getting out the spare bedding.”

  The leftovers went into the fridge, and I spent a few minutes tidying my kitchen so my unexpected guest wouldn’t view me as a complete slob. Once done, I considered the problem of sleeping arrangements. Would it be more gentlemanly to give her my bed, or would that send the wrong message?

  I’d rather take the couch so she could have the more comfortable spot. I frowned, drumming my fingers on the counter while I thought it through. Later—long after Marian returned home—I’d have to ask Mom about the proper protocol for inviting a lady to my place for the night.

  Dad’s solution would involve me and the lady sharing my bed and forgoing sleep altogether. On second thought, I decided I’d find someone reasonable to ask instead of my mother. My mother would begin planning a wedding. My godfather would side with Dad, as would everyone else I knew in Lincoln.

  I had no trouble figuring out what Ernesto would advise, although I was astonished Amy hadn’t influenced either one of us. I wouldn’t last long if the succubus influenced Marian. One experience with a sex demon had taught me I didn’t have a chance in hell of resisting a demon’s influence, and if I didn’t end up with Marian, I’d end up with Amy, and Amy would love every second of it. Knowing Amy, I’d sleep with both of them at the same time.

  That thought stopped me dead in my tracks, and I suspected my entire body blushed at the idea of them together. I took deep breaths and forced myself to think about something—anything—else.

  Sheets. I needed to find sheets, and a blanket, and a pillow, and I needed to find them before Marian finished her shower. The satin sheets Amy had been snuggling went in the hamper. I had spares, which I dug out of the closet. Marian had an overnight bag, so I wouldn’t have to dig through my clothes to find her something to wear. The idea of her in my clothes bothered me so much I doubted I’d be getting any sleep, which would fulfill Amy’s requirement for me to be in a comatose state, although Amy wouldn’t appreciate the real reason for my exhaustion.

  Absorbed by my task of matching sheets with my spare blankets, I didn’t hear Marian come out of the bathroom until she cleared her throat behind me. “Hey, Shane?”

  I turned.

  “Which do you like better?” Traditionally, upon finishing with a shower, people got dressed. In one hand, Marian held some red scraps of cloth tied together with some threads masquerading as lace. In the other, she held a satin nightgown. The garments would have done a lot more good had she put them on before asking for my opinion.

  I recognized a trick question when I heard one, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out which answer benefited me the most. Was I supposed to dislike one of them? A better man wouldn’t have taken his time admiring the outfits presented or stared so openly at the woman holding them. What would happen if I picked the lingerie? What would happen if I picked the nightgown?

  No matter what I said, I was in a lot of trouble. Was neither an acceptable answer? I decided to find out. “I like you just as you are.”

  Marian smirked and dropped her clothes to the floor. “Good answer, Mr. Gibson.”

  Women made my common sense dribble out my ears. More accurately, a specific woman, Marian, did. A sensible man would have remembered he needed sleep, but what Marian wanted, she got, and she had a ravenous appetite fo
r things besides food. When she finally finished with me, birds were singing outside of my window, sunlight was streaming through the curtains I needed to replace with a darker, heavier material, and I barely had enough energy to burrow beneath my blanket before I passed out.

  Amy’s snickers woke me. “You didn’t kill him, did you? I haven’t seen a man so worn out in years, and it’s my job to make sure they’re too tuckered out to run away.”

  I groped for a pillow, found one, and crammed it over my head. “What do you want, Amy?”

  “I came to take away the leftovers. I also brought you fresh food—food that wasn’t helpfully laced with Ernesto’s favorite aphrodisiac. He thought you deserved a nice reward for helping that family out at such a high personal cost, and he thought your badge babe should be able to enjoy you at your finest without the interference of my brothers or sisters. Marian, consider it Shane’s application for a long-term relationship.”

  I should’ve known Ernesto would stoop to drugging our food. “When I get a hold of him, I’m going to sever his legs at the kneecaps so his children have to stitch him back together and help him feed for a week.”

  Since I couldn’t decide between punishing him and thanking him, doing both at the same time seemed like a good idea.

  “Oh, you must have enjoyed your evening a lot. I’ll make sure he knows to look forward to it.”

  “I call dibs on his elbows,” Marian grumbled. “Damn it. Will this show on a drug test?”

  “Of course not. It would be a very quick way for Ernie to earn a very angry enemy, and he wouldn’t want his precious cop hating him over something like that. If you were tested right now, you would show higher than normal endorphin levels unless they used a magic scanner, which would register demonic influences. Isn’t it lovely? I helped with its development. It wears off after six to eight hours, is non-addictive, and the only side effect is an understandable amount of exhaustion. Did he leave a bite for you, Marian? We’re happy to provide another dose for this evening should you need to give him a little extra encouragement to start using his teeth.”

  “Amy!” Marian squealed.

  I stretched, groaning at the ache of tired, sore muscles. “It’s too early in the morning for this, Amy.”

  “Don’t be so shy. It’s an important question. Ernie gave his approval and put me in charge of the consummation of your relationship. He’s expecting wedding invitations.”

  “Amy!” I protested.

  “She already branded you, Shane. Don’t be a whiner.”

  “Will you stop it with the brand stuff already? It’s really too early in the morning.”

  “Lycanthropes don’t brand, do they, Marian? This is an unexpected hurdle. Would you like to explain it to him, or should I?”

  Marian groaned, rolled over, and stole my pillow, smashing it over her head. “Go away, please.”

  “I guess that means I get to do it. Your badge babe is a shifter of some sort, and shifters like leaving visible marks of their claim on their chosen partner. You’ve been wisely selected by your badge babe. A bite like hers is called a brand, as it’s essentially a mark of ownership. They heal slowly, and when it does heal, you’ll have a very permanent scar, one other shifters will recognize as a brand. I’m surprised the CDC didn’t tell you. But then again, Ernie had to do some research to figure out what it is. Once he started poking at your medical records and figured out your new status as an unidentified shifter, it made sense. Normally, branding is done as part of a wedding ceremony, but demonic influences are known to drive excited females into staking their claim early. Of course, some shifter species have temporary brands—a mark to make it clear a female has reserved a male for breeding season.”

  Since stealing my pillow back from the woman doing her best to hide would be rude, I groaned and draped my arm over my eyes. “Did I bite you, Marian? Wait. Didn’t you say you can tell if there’s a bite, Amy?”

  “We do have to see the bite.” Amy snickered, and before I could stop her, she yanked the blankets off us. Marian shrieked, and I grabbed the sheet, spitting curses at the succubus.

  “My, my. You are a lovely woman. Do you think if I ask Shane nicely he’ll share? We’d have a great time. I promise.”

  There was only one way to deal with a nosy succubus, and it involved my pillow and her face. I armed myself, whipping the pillow at Amy. “Are you trying to get her to kill me?” It took several swats to drive the succubus out of my bedroom. “Go away, and lock the damned door behind you, you she-devil!”

  Laughing, Amy retreated, caressing my cheek with the tip of her tail. “Don’t forget you humans need breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and it’s already well past noon. Up, up. You wouldn’t want to still be in bed when company comes calling, and trust me when I tell you that company will be calling soon enough.”

  “Company? What company?”

  Amy didn’t reply, but the front door closed with a thump and a click, muffling the succubus’s laughter.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  On the third sip, I realized I hadn’t put coffee grinds in the filter. I regarded my steaming mug of water with a frown, sighed, and dumped it in the sink.

  “That took you two swallows longer than I expected,” Marian murmured from my couch. Sometime between me staggering out of the bedroom to make sure Amy was really gone and beginning my morning routine in an exhausted daze, she’d dressed in a black skirt and white blouse with a black tie. “Start over. Put some pants on and go splash some water on your face. Actually, take a cold shower. That might wake you up. I’ll make the coffee.”

  I regarded the carafe with a mixture of self-loathing, disdain, and resignation. Then it hit me I wasn’t wearing pants—or anything else for that matter. Unable to think of a single thing I could say without making the situation worse, I grunted, abandoned ship, and retreated to my bedroom to fetch clean clothes.

  A cold shower didn’t help as much as I’d hoped, but I managed to get dressed without putting any of my clothes on inside out or backwards. I staggered into my living room, discovered my parents on the couch, and reversed course for my bedroom to sleep off what I hoped was a hallucination.

  Within three steps, sickeningly familiar werewolf breath washed over the back of my neck. “Shane,” my father growled.

  Fights between hybrid-form werewolves and humans usually ended with the human being beaten senseless, sat upon, or otherwise immobilized. If I hadn’t been so tired, I might have gotten in a punch before Dad smacked me to the floor, rolled me onto my stomach, and sat on me.

  Then he grabbed the collar of my shirt and tugged to get an up close and personal look at Marian’s bite.

  Someone was going to die, and I needed to think long and hard about how to best kill Ernesto so he’d never bother me again. “Can’t I have coffee before you start this shit, Dad?”

  “No.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Can’t a man visit his son?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t be cruel.”

  “You filled a box with glitter and armed it with a can of compressed air. You have no grounds to complain about cruelty.”

  “But we bought you a new vacuum.”

  Still on the couch, my mother laughed. “You even got most of it out of your carpet. I’m impressed, Shane.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “We received an interesting phone call last night and were offered a pair of plane tickets. We thought we’d accept the invitation, as you’ve neglected us horribly. Also, you’ve been cheating on us, and we demand to know what exactly is going on.”

  On second thought, murder was far too nice a fate for Ernesto. I couldn’t think of anyone else in Chicago bold or evil enough to contact my parents and inflict them on me—or to have the audacity to compete with a werewolf over his son. “Escape while you can, Marian.”

  “It’s too late. We already handcuffed your woman to your kitchen chair,” Dad growled.

  “They reall
y did, Shane. They caught me by surprise. They thought I was a burgular. I decided not to fight against the cranky hybrid werewolf and accept my handcuffing with dignity. Have you considered having your father checked for rabies? He was frothing.”

  How had I missed hearing that nonsense during my shower? The pipes weren’t that noisy. I was still on the wrong side of barely conscious. “Did you knock on the door, Dad?”

  “We did. She answered it.”

  “Why would a burgular answer the door when someone knocked?”

  Dad snorted. “Don’t get smart with me, boy.”

  “You handcuffed an FBI agent to my chair. Are you trying to get me arrested?”

  “It’s your fault you didn’t notify us there’d be a woman inhabiting your space.”

  No matter what I said, I was doomed. “How have you not figured out I’m a grown man? I may have invited her over to spare her from trying to find a hotel after midnight in Chicago. I can invite a lady over to my apartment if I want to.”

  Marian giggled. “Sorry, Shane. I knew better and still opened the door.”

  I couldn’t get mad at her if I wanted to. My parents had a tendency to worm their way into their victim’s affections, and Marian would become their prey soon enough. A better man would’ve suggested she run, but it was too late. When my parents hunted, nothing stopped them. Anyway, it served me well.

  I intended to keep her for a long time, and if she couldn’t escape my busybody parents, she couldn’t escape me, either.

  I grunted and squirmed beneath my father. “Why are you here?”

  “Why did one of Chicago’s most notorious crime lords call me at eight in the evening to thank me for siring the beautiful man he is honored to call his dear boy?” Dad snarled in my ear.

  “Don’t forget the part about being tricked into eating drugged food so he’d lose his virginity,” Mom added.

  “He’d already lost his virginity, Mrs. Gibson. We were merely getting in some practice.”

  Practice? For what? Testing the limits of endurance and inducing a coma-like state? If that was the goal, we’d succeeded. I sighed and regarded the doorway to my bedroom longingly. Between Ernesto and Marian, I had no hope of escaping my situation with my dignity intact. Marian didn’t sound too bothered by my parents or being handcuffed. If anything, she sounded amused at my expense.