Tooth and Claw (The Harry Russo Diaries Book 2)

by Lisa Emme

  Evaine, whose house it turned out we were in, offered me a change of clothes, but since Eileen was just going to drop me off at home, I opted to stay in Nash’s sweats. Yes, I know, I know. Sex with Nash had been a bad idea. It didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy how it felt being wrapped up in his clothes for a little while longer though.

  As we were heading out the door, Daniel’s ghost padded across the front porch towards me. I still couldn’t get over how alive the wolf ghosts looked compared to human ghosts which were usually pretty translucent. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn I was being approached by a living, breathing wolf.

  Daniel stopped and sniffed the air, cocking his head from side to side. He huffed, then plopped down on his haunches and stared at me, his tongue lolling out between his very sharp looking teeth. It almost looked like he was smiling at me.

  I crossed my arms, looking him in the eye. “You know, if you have any clues to help me find your missing daughter, now would be the time to help out,” I said to him.

  Daniel cocked his wolfy head at me again then threw his muzzle up, releasing a long, mournful howl.

  “Whoa, did you feel that chill?” Eileen asked as she stepped out behind me on the porch. “I think we're going to see snow soon.”

  I looked back to where the wolf had been sitting, but he was gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Eileen dropped me off at the firehall and I was climbing up the stairs when I realized that Isaac didn’t know about Christina’s disappearance. Lucky me, I got to break the news to him.

  It was still pretty early in the afternoon so I decided to turn around and head to the shop and check on Mrs. Potts and Tiffy. Luckily, Mrs. P didn’t seem to mind when I occasionally failed to show up for work and was more than capable of running things without me, otherwise I’d probably have gone out of business by now.

  I had a bit of a shock when I reached the front of the store and I found a construction crew working on installing a large double set of French doors in the side wall of the building, right where I had been thinking of putting them.

  “Oh Harry dear, there you are,” Mrs. P’s voice called out to me from inside the soon-to-be café. “You’re just in time to help with the paint colour choices.”

  “Mrs. P? What the heck is going on? Where did all these men come from? I didn’t – “

  “Not to worry, Harry. I hope you don’t mind, but you left your sketches and notes for the new café in the shop. I knew you were busy dear, so I thought I would get the ball rolling.” She waved a hand towards one of the men. “That’s Morris. He always takes care of any maintenance in the building.”

  I looked over at Morris. He was short and squat and as brown as cocoa. His face was as weathered as an old piece of leather. He had a cigar butt, unlit, clenched between his teeth. When he noticed my attention, he nodded and tipped a finger to his brow. “Ma’am,” he said.

  “Uh, hi Morris,” I stammered. I turned back to Mrs. P. “I don’t mind, but don’t we need to get building permits or something? I haven’t even looked into getting a business license for the café.”

  “Pish-posh,” Mrs. P shook her head. “Don’t you worry, Harry. I have everything under control.”

  “Okay, if you say so.” I shrugged. Mrs. Potts had been a part of this building since the day it was built. Who was I to argue with her? Truthfully, I was relieved to have someone taking over the responsibility of coordinating the work for me.

  Mrs. P. grabbed my arm and started walking me further into the store. “Now tell me dear, what do you think of the colour? You had said cream in your notes, but I was thinking perhaps something a little darker.” She pointed me to a space on the wall where three different colour swatches had been painted. Tiffy was standing nearby, puzzling over them.

  “Hi Tiffy,” I said.

  “Eeep!” For a second Tiffy looked like she was preparing to bolt, but then she stood her ground. Mrs. P. nodded her head in approval and Tiffy seemed to relax a little.

  I looked at the different colours. They were all various shades of cream, but one stood out. It was a little darker, reminding me of butter. It looked amazing with the deep wood wainscoting that wrapped around the perimeter of the room and the exposed brick of the outside wall. It was definitely my favourite and I said so.

  “Oh wonderful,” Mrs. P clapped her hands. “That’s the one I liked too.”

  “Me too,” Tiffy squeaked, covering her mouth with her hand as if she hadn’t meant to speak out loud.

  I stared at her in surprise. “Well, that settles it then. It’s unanimous.” I smiled encouragingly at Tiffy. She was slightly hunched, her fingers fluttering in front of her mouth. “What’s it called?”

  Tiffy blinked her eyes at me for a few seconds, fighting the flight response. I waited patiently.

  “B..b..butterchurn,” she whispered.

  “Nice. I like it.” I smiled at her again. She dropped her hand from her mouth, her shoulders straightening slightly. Mrs. P. smiled proudly. It was nice to see that Tiffy was starting to come out of her shell.

  Mrs. P snapped her fingers and the paint in the tray at Tiffy’s feet suddenly changed to match the identical shade on the wall. Whoa. I’d never seen brownie magic in action before.

  “There you go, Tiffy. I think two coats should do it.” She nodded her chin at the paint tray and roller.

  “Oh, I could help out,” I said, although I really needed to get upstairs and talk to Isaac, but I was feeling guilty that Mrs. P. and Tiffy were doing all the work.

  “Nonsense dear,” Mrs. P said, pushing me back towards the front of the shop. “Tiffy has it covered. Besides, you have things to do.” She patted my arm. “I heard about that nice girl Christina. You must help get her back.”

  “I, uh…yeah. Okay.” I let her push me out the door, wondering how she had heard about Christina already.

  ***

  It was still a bit early for Isaac to be up, but Tess was home and she pounced on me the moment I walked in the door.

  “Omigod! Harry! Where have you been?” She took a critical look at me. “And what are you wearing? Are those Nash’s clothes? Did you…?” She leaned into me and made a big show of inhaling deeply. “Omigod! You did. You and Nash did the big ole nasty!” She clapped her hands with glee and then grabbed my arm dragging me towards the sofa. “You totally have to dish.”

  “Alright, alright,” I said, putting the brakes on. “I will. But first I need a shower and I want to get into my own clothes.”

  “Fine, fine. Come on, you can tell me while you shower.” She dragged me towards the stairs and yes, she thought it was perfectly normal for her to stand in my bathroom while I showered, filling her in on my love life or whatever it was. Of course, she didn’t get all the details. Some things a girl just doesn’t tell.

  ***

  Breaking the news to Isaac was easier than I thought, especially since he already seemed to know. Was everyone on some sort of supernatural grapevine, and if so, why had I not heard of it?

  Isaac was visibly upset about Christina’s disappearance. Obviously there was more going on there than just baking and gourmet cooking. I filled him in on what I knew, which wasn’t much. I hadn’t heard anything back from Nash when I texted him earlier looking for an update. Figures.

  “We should call the number immediately and pay for an invitation to the next event,” Isaac said as he paced the floor.

  “Yeah, except for the slight problem of coming up with a thousand bucks,” Tess replied.

  “Eleven thousand actually,” I added. “We need a thousand just to get the invite, but that won’t help us find where they are holding the werewolves. We need to get in the door and we can’t show up to the pick up without the entry fee.”

  “The money is not a problem,” Isaac said casually.

  “You have that kind of money lying a
round?” Tess asked, her eyes wide.

  “Easily.” Isaac shrugged.

  I nodded, trying to work out all the details in my head. “We’ll need covers. Marcel said that they run a background check after you request an invite. You’ll need to look like a high roller so they don’t get suspicious.” I walked over and sat down at the desk with Bryce’s computer. “I’m sure Bryce can put together some fake ID’s. Once we have those, Isaac can call and request to attend the next fight. That will get the ball rolling.”

  Before I could call up Bryce and get him into action, my cell phone rang. It was Salvador. I knew because I had assigned him a ringtone that sounded like something from an old vampire movie, all dramatic organ music. I think it was Bach. My gut reaction was to just send it to voicemail, but I had learned the hard way that that wasn’t a good idea. The last time I had avoided his calls, he showed up on my doorstep. Resigned, I answered the phone.

  “Hello Salvador,” I said, trying not to sound aggravated.

  “My dear Harry, how are you this evening?” Salvador’s voice purred through the phone.

  “Actually, this isn’t really a good time,” I replied.

  “Ah, yes. I have heard the unfortunate news regarding our dear Detective Nash’s lovely sister. Terrible news, terrible.”

  “Yes, it is, so you could understand why it’s just a little –”

  “Of course, of course, which is why I have called,” Salvador interrupted. “You will dine with me this evening. I have information that could be of use to you.”

  “Salvador, I really don’t have time for a social call. If you have information you think will help, just tell me and when this is all over we can meet as usual.”

  “I’m afraid that just won’t do,” Salvador replied, his voice taking on a subtle, yet harsher tone. “Henry will pick you up at eight. We will be dining at Cirque, dress accordingly.”

  “Cirque?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. It was only the swankiest restaurant in town. You had to call months in advance for a reservation. No surprise though that Salvador could get one at the drop of a hat.

  “Eight o’clock, Harry.” The line went dead.

  “Damn it!” I tossed my phone on the desk and looked at the clock. I had just over an hour to get ready.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Henry dropped me off in front of the restaurant. At least I wouldn’t have to run the gauntlet of vampires back at Dante’s.

  I was dressed in a chic little cocktail dress made of black and gold organza embroidered in a paisley pattern. It was flirty and feminine, the puffy skirt falling about mid-thigh. The hostess had obviously been waiting for my arrival because she jumped to attention the moment I came through the door.

  “Miss Russo, if you will follow me? Mr. Arroyo is waiting for you upstairs.”

  She showed me to the elevator and I could feel her critical gaze. Obviously I didn’t make the cut as Salvador’s date. As the elevator doors closed I smiled smugly and wiggled my fingers at her in a little wave.

  When I stepped off the elevator on the fortieth floor - did I mention that Cirque had a phenomenal 360 degree view of the city? - I stopped in shock. What should have been a busy restaurant bursting with the dinner rush crowd was empty. A man in a black suit greeted me with a nod. “Miss Russo, your party is waiting for you in the lounge.” He held out a hand directing me which way to go.

  “Thanks,” I replied, giving him a small nod. I started to walk towards the lounge then turned back and asked, “So where is everyone?”

  “It is Monday, Miss Russo. Cirque is normally closed. Mr. Arroyo made special arrangements for your meal this evening.” He held out his hand again. “If you will follow me?” Without waiting, he stalked out of the lobby.

  “Of course he did,” I said, more to myself than anyone else, just as well because there was no one else there. I shook my head. Well, at least I wasn’t going to be walking into a room full of vampires.

  The maître d’ ushered me into the lounge and then disappeared. I stood at the entrance and looked around. The place was spectacular. Floor to ceiling windows encompassed the space, looking out over the river and downtown, the lights of the city twinkling all around. The tables, all empty but one, were covered in white linen table cloths, each set with an assortment of sparkling silverware and fine crystal. Salvador sat at a table for two closest to the windows overlooking the river. As far as I could tell, we were actually alone.

  “Harry, my dear!” Salvador rose from his seat to greet me. “Come, come.” He gestured me forward.

  I walked towards him, trying not to be self-conscious, but it was hard because it felt like Salvador was always appraising me, which he more than likely was.

  “Good evening, Salvador,” I said, extending my hand as I crossed the room. This was another one of his little concessions to our deal that he insisted on after the fact, that he greet me properly, as a gentleman greets a lady, with a chaste kiss on the hand. So far he had behaved, no tasting. I wasn’t particularly sure how I’d stop him if he tried.

  Salvador grasped the tips of my fingers with his own, bowing slightly over my hand. I just about jumped out of my skin though when suddenly his hand wrapped around my wrist in a punishing grip. He pulled me closer to him, a look of feral anger in his eyes.

  “You let that cur Mark you?” he bellowed, his hand continuing to crush my wrist in his grip.

  “Ow! Hey!” I exclaimed, trying to pull my hand from his. “Salvador, you’re hurting me.” I tried to pry his hand off mine with my other hand. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Let me go!”

  Salvador pushed my arm away from him with a look of disgust. I threw my hand out to the nearby table trying to maintain my balance. He paused for a moment, as if trying to calm down before saying, “You have had relations with the wolf, our dear Detective Nash.” The last few words he practically spat out. He took a deep breath and then tugged at the sleeves of his jacket and smoothed down the front of his shirt, slowly seeming to regain his composure.

  “My sex life is none of your concern,” I replied coldly, rubbing the already forming bruise on my wrist. Relations? Seriously? Who says that anymore?

  “Sex? Sex is one thing, but you have allowed his Mark,” Salvador growled, his usually husky voice sounding harsher. He took a step towards me.

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about. Not that it is really any of your business.” I took a step back, crossing my arms. It was healthy to always be a little afraid of Salvador, but now he was just freaking me out.

  Before I could suck in a gasp of surprise, I found myself pressed up against the cold glass of the window. Salvador had my hands pulled behind my back, my head turned so that my cheek pressed against the glass. He didn’t press his body up against mine. Instead he just held me in place with a hand palming the back of my head, the other pushing my hands into the small of my back. He dipped his head close to my ear, his breath tickling the hair on my neck.

  “He has claimed you, has our wolf,” he hissed. “Where is the Mark? I can smell it on you.” He examined my bare skin, exposed by the keyhole cut-out at the back of my dress, while I struggled uselessly. I was no match for his strength, even with my burgeoning powers. Finding nothing, he frowned and pushed my hair up off my neck. I could see his penetrating gaze reflected in the dark glass of the window as he examined what skin he could see that wasn’t hidden by the collar of my dress. “Ahh, yes,” he rasped, obviously finding what he had been looking for. His fingers brushed across my skin, still tender from Nash’s bite. I shivered, but unlike when Nash had touched it, I felt nothing but revulsion.

  “It’s just a hickey for crying out loud,” I protested, trying to free my head from Salvador’s grip.

  Salvador laughed harshly. “Oh my dear Harry, it is much more than that, so much more than a hickey.” He made a face as if that word tas
ted unpleasant in his mouth. He pushed himself away from me and stepped back towards the table, once again straightening his clothes. With a final tug on one shirtsleeve, visible under his suit jacket, he sat and gestured to a waiter I hadn’t known was there.

  “I really don’t know what you are talking about, but I get the feeling that every time you say the word marked you’re using a capital letter.” I stepped away from the window but no closer to the table and Salvador. I straightened my dress and wiped away a stray tear that had escaped and was making its way down my cheek.

  “Ahh, my dear. I apologize for my outburst,” Salvador said. He looked legitimately sorry, which was a surprise. “I was not aware that you and our dear Detective were so close.”

  I snorted out a little laugh before I could stop myself. “I don’t know if I’d say close.” I crossed my arms defensively. “It’s complicated.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it is.” Salvador gestured to the empty seat at his table. “Please, have a seat. I promise you, I will behave.”

  I looked at the empty chair and then at Salvador, my stomach in knots. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea right now. You’re upset, I’m upset. If you have any information about the missing werewolves, just tell me.”

  “Sit.” Salvador’s gaze burned into me even as the power behind his word washed over me. He wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  I took a deep breath and then walked stiffly to the empty chair, sinking into it, my eyes never leaving Salvador’s. I carefully crossed my legs, smoothing my dress out over my thighs.

  As if waiting for his cue, the waiter appeared with two old-fashioned glasses filled with an amber liquid. I grabbed one of the glasses off the tray and tossed the drink back in one swallow. The fiery whiskey burned all the way down.

  “Smooth,” I gasped giving my chest a thump with my fist and earning a raised eyebrow from Salvador.

  “It should be. It’s twenty-one year old, single malt,” he added wryly, taking a sip of his own.