“If you think I shall be apologizing to him, you are—”
Literally vibrating with rage, I slap the bastard as hard as I can, my hand raging in pain from the effort. Stunned, Oliver cups his cheek. “That’s for last night.”
“You—”
“No, you do not get to talk right now. All you get to listen.” I point my finger right between his gray eyes. “If you ever, ever lay another hand on me or the man I love in anger again, I will chop off your head without a second thought. Do you understand me?”
“He—”
“No. Listen,” I order through gritted teeth. “I know what he did. And I know you know why he did it. Which means you just used a horrible experience I had to endure as an excuse to hit him. It had nothing to do with altruism. With protecting me. And regardless what happens between Will and me is just that, between me and him. It is none of your damn business.”
“You are my business,” Oliver parries. “You are my…friend, and I have vowed to you I shall keep you safe. I will not abandon that vow. I will not. Never.”
“If you interpret that vow as beating my boyfriend to a pulp for something that was out of his control, then I sure as hell don’t want you watching my back anymore. Because I don’t know if I can trust you to.”
“You do not mean that.”
“I do.” God help me, I really do. “You know, I really did think we could all be friends. I thought, for my sake, you’d quell your jealousy and selfishness and be as happy for me as I would be for you if the tables were turned. But I was wrong, wasn’t I? It hasn’t even been a damn day and you’re acting like a spoiled child smashing everything in sight when you don’t get your way. And I don’t have the energy to pick up the pieces. I don’t. So if you can reach within yourself, if you can’t be the man I know you can be, then you stay the hell away from us, do you hear me? Just stay the hell away, friend. We’re done here.”
With that, I turn my back on my friend and walk away. And damned if it doesn’t break my heart. At least I have one.
*
Of course I still have to work with him. I forgot that part. Darn it.
The entire team, Dr. Neill included, sits or stands in the small conference room, and the nervous energy is palpable, like smoke choking us all. No one can look at us three troublemakers. Will sits beside me, face swollen but bruises already yellowing, with his head down. I hold his hand for all to see. United front. Oliver is behind us, out of my sight. Chandler stands at the whiteboard, more than comfortable taking point tonight. He outlines the new information from Will. “So, what have we learned today, people?”
“Sounds like a rogue pack,” Andrew says. “One female and three males.”
“Sounds accurate,” Will says.
“Is there anything else you can remember about them?” Carl asks Will.
“Judging from the smells, the three males hunted together the entire time, then stopped when they reached the female.”
“Was she with them? Was she like part of the pack?” Nancy asks.
“I think so. What I smelled was…um…her sex on the tree. I think she had sex with one of the wolves there and rubbed up against the tree.”
There isn’t a face without a grimace in the room. “Gross,” Nancy says for us all.
“So is she,” I say. “She put the whammy on Will somehow. Whatever affected you probably did the same to them. So, if this isn’t normal behavior around a female werewolf what is she besides a werewolf?”
“Another succubus?” Agent Wolfe asks.
“Possible,” Chandler says. “We’ll start combing reports of odd heart attacks in the area. Other potentials?”
“A witch,” Oliver chimes in behind us. “If the reports on the assault against Agent Alexander are accurate, it sounds as if Agent Price was bespelled.”
I ignore the multiple digs. “A love potion?” I ask.
“Maybe,” Will says. “I’ve been bespelled before, and it was similar.”
“We’ll contact the local covens and see if they know of any hybrids,” Chandler says.
“We should contact Jason Dahl too,” Will suggests. “This is his territory. If there is a hybrid or even a rogue pack here, he should know.”
“Okay,” Chandler says. “So, onto our victim. Andrew?”
“There were a great number of spirits in those woods ranging from Confederate soldiers to Native Americans to the more recent dead. It was a bit overwhelming. Without a name or picture of him, I couldn’t tell which if any was our victim.”
“That’s okay,” Chandler says. “Dr. Neill?”
Dr. Lynette Neill, our pathologist/medic, says, “I haven’t begun my exam of the leg yet, but from outward appearances I’d agree with the local ME’s preliminary findings. Male, Caucasian, six foot, approximate age 19-25, deceased last night sometime between seven and nine. The leg was severed while he was alive, and the wounds are consistent with a werewolf attack.”
“There have been no missing person’s reports filed in the county today,” Agent Rushmore says.
“What about the list of ticketed or abandoned cars around the park?” I ask.
“They haven’t e-mailed it yet,” Rushmore says.
“We should have them extend the records search to every night of the full moon going back six months,” I say.
“Why?” asks Chandler.
“Well, werewolves are territorial, right? The chances are slim that this is the first time they’ve used the park.”
“There have been no reports of strange animals or attacks there before today,” Chandler points out.
“This whole thing was way too organized for it to be their first time,” I say. “They knew to hide the body, to get rid of his camping equipment, and how to avoid the ranger.”
“You think there are other victims in the park?” Andrew asks.
“It’s a distinct possibility, that’s all I’m saying.”
“I agree,” Will chimes in. “The way they hunted together takes practice. Experience.”
“We’ll interview the other rangers tomorrow. See what they recall,” Chandler says. “Any other thoughts?”
“Oliver should go to the scene and see if he can pick up the blood trail,” I suggest. “Might lead us to the body.”
“Good idea,” Will says.
“Oh joy and bliss, a night alone in the frigid woods,” Oliver says. “Am I the lucky boy.”
“The rest of us will continue processing and examining the evidence we already have,” Chandler orders. “Carl, you’re with Neill on the leg. Alexander, you and Nancy start analyzing the blood and fur we found on the peak. Wolfe, you and Will get on the computers and pull the missing persons and towed or ticketed cars in the vicinity. The staties are taking too long. Andrew, call George and get a list of the local covens and start contacting them. Rush and I will link up with the state police and coordinate with them. That okay with everyone?” We all nod. “Good. Then let’s get to work.”
Everyone rises, and when I turn around, Oliver has already vanished. I sigh. Will, sensing my displeasure, places his hand on my shoulder. I pat it. No time to mourn a lost friendship. Werewolves to catch. Thank God.
*
Our lab is barely the size of a closet and darn near claustrophobic with all the equipment crammed into the small, windowless space. Under my microscope are epithelial, or skin cells, taken from the tree of doom. These are what caused my boyfriend to morph into a villain from a Lifetime movie, and as far as I can tell there is nothing out of the ordinary about them. They’re not human, definitely canine, but it’s not as if they’re glowing with magic. And according to the serology print out of the bark, two male wolves, uh, secreted onto it. This female wolf is quite the slut.
“There aren’t any tests to determine if someone’s a witch, are there?” I ask Nancy.
She glances up from the computer. “Nope. Just like when they tested us, our DNA came back like 100% human too.”
“What about testi
ng for spells?”
“I don’t think so.”
I slump back in my chair. “Okay, let’s work through this logically. It had to be her biological material that caused the reaction in Will. The scent she gave off, pheromones, put him and probably the other wolves into overdrive. So, how do you change your scent?”
“A magical perfume?” Nancy suggests.
“Possible. Or she ingests something. Like when you eat onions and you smell like them for awhile? It comes out of your pores.”
“But like, why would she do that?”
“Power. Control. The same reasons you or I would. But it obviously only works on werewolves.”
“That we, like, know of,” Nancy points out. “Will has super-smell. Maybe the others just couldn’t smell it.”
And I just sent an enraged vampire with super-senses back there. Crap. I pull out my cell and dial. It rings twice. “What?” Oliver asks, none too pleased.
“I think you need to come back,” I say. “We just realized the trigger could be heightened senses. You could have a reaction too.”
“Rather slow on the uptake tonight, Agent Alexander,” he says. “I knew that before I departed. I have taken precautions, but I appreciate your concern.” He hangs up.
I roll my eyes. “Jerk.”
“He’s not coming back?” Nancy asks.
“No, he knows best,” I say with a sneer. “Well, if he goes postal there and hurts someone, I’m not saving his butt this time. He’s on his own. Hell, I’ll wield the stake myself.”
Nancy frowns and turns back to her computer. “Whatever.”
“What?” I ask as I fold my arms across my chest.
“Can you two just like skip to the part where you make up? Save us all the drama? You so know you’re going to. You always do.”
“This time’s different.”
“Why? I mean, you so should be mad at Will, not Oliver. He’s not the one who…you know.”
“Will couldn’t help himself, Oliver could. And this isn’t the first time he’s attacked Will, okay? You’re the one who told me what happened at Christmas, remember?”
“He was like totally worried about you. Like crazy scared. Tonight too. He screamed at Carl. Carl. You’re like his best friend. I’m surprised he didn’t stab Will.”
“See, that is not a good thing, Nancy. He didn’t ask me how I was, he didn’t try to console me, he just tried to kill my boyfriend. And last night, instead of being happy that I’d found someone who I love, and who loves me back, he tried to feed me to a werewolf to prove a point. So no, I do not think forgiveness is forthcoming anytime soon. Sorry.”
“He’s just hurt,” Nancy says quietly.
“That doesn’t mean we should all suffer because of it. And that certainly doesn’t give him the right to physically harm anyone, no matter the circumstances.”
“So you’re like no longer friends? Just like that?”
“Until he can be happy for me and act like a grown-up, yes. The man is over five hundred years old, he should act like it. And this conversation is over.” I stand up. “I need to use the bathroom. Excuse me.”
I really go outside to gulp in some fresh air no matter how cold that air might be. I am beyond sick of being in that lab. It’s my least favorite part of the job, which is why I’m so crap at it. And that’s when I’m on my A game. Tonight I’m barely on my D game. My hands hurt, my wrists ache, and now I have to worry about a pissed off vampire making all our lives a living hell, not to mention the fact that I’m chasing some creature that makes my boyfriend literally lose his mind. This is supposed to be the happiest time of my life, and I’m struggling not to burst into tears. Again. Story of my life.
It’s not supposed to be like this. I shouldn’t have to stop my boyfriend from raping me. I shouldn’t have to shun my best friend because he’s being a jealous idiot and lashing out like a toddler. I should be cuddling up on the sofa with Will watching Glee. I should be driving around with Oliver complaining about our co-workers. We should all be out playing pool and shooting the breeze, not beating each other bloody. Is it so wrong to want my boyfriend and best friend to get along? Is that too much to freaking ask?
I swore I wouldn’t choose. That I would find a way for us all to get along come hell or high water. That I wouldn’t lose either of them. I didn’t expect them to be best friends, but I thought at least the physical violence had come to an end. Okay, so I really thought all the crap everyone told me about Oliver had been magically cured by my friendship. That I’d quelled his tortured, selfish soul and he could be Uncle Oliver to my kids. Yes, I’m delusional.
As I’m staring up at the thousands of twinkling stars, hugging myself against the cold, I hear the door opening and shutting but don’t turn around. A moment later, the interloper places a big coat over my shoulders and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him. “You’re so cold,” Will whispers, breath hot against my ear.
“I’m better now.” I stare up at his still bruised face and half smile. “You look like hell.”
“I’ve been beat up twice. It has not been a good day.”
“Does it still hurt?”
“Not too bad. You kicked my ass a lot harder than he did.” Will kisses my forehead and hugs me even tighter.
We stand there gazing up at the starts in silence for a few seconds before I say, “I hate this.”
“What?”
“Why can’t people just be happy for us? Why does everything have to be so freaking hard?”
“You mean Oliver,” he says. “Bea, I’m not going to lie and say I’m not thrilled you’ve finally removed those rose colored glasses but…I know how much he means to you, and I’m sorry you’re hurting. I really am. If I could wave a magic wand and make it right, I would.”
“He shouldn’t have attacked you like that.”
Will pauses, then says, “Baby, if the roles were reversed, I would have killed him. Without a moment’s hesitation. I almost did, remember?” he asks, caressing the scar Oliver gave me on my first case.
“That was different.” I turn around to face him. “I don’t have rose colored glasses about Oliver. I really don’t. I see him for exactly who he is. I don’t know if it’s a vamp thing, but he has this deep darkness inside that scares the hell out of me, and I see it creeping to the surface. It was in his eyes last night and here again tonight. I refuse to be the excuse for him to unleash it. And if that means turning my back on him until he comes to his senses, then I will. But I…we have this connection. We do. I can’t explain it, heck I barely understand it myself, but I won’t completely abandon hope that one day…he’ll be the man I know he can be. And when that day comes, I just hope you can embrace him too.”
Will takes me into his arms, squeezing me tight. “He doesn’t deserve you. Neither do I for that matter.”
“Well, you’ve got me, and you’re stuck with me now.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Chapter Eight
Attention Deficit Disorder
Everyone was exhausted, so we cut the work short around midnight and retreated to the hotel for some much needed sleep. My head hit the pillow, and I was out like a light. The ringing telephone beside my head wakes me way too soon. It’s Chandler with a gruff, “Good morning, and get out of bed.” Nancy groans in the other bed and removes her hot pink eye mask. I’ve been her hotel mate for almost a year so I know she’s not a morning person. Hoping to avoid the gripes and snotty comments, I quickly climb out of bed, grab my clothes, and hide in the bathroom.
Make-up does a fantastic job of covering the dark circles and bruises. Since the plan for the day, at least mine, calls for no trips into the wilderness, I throw on my best suit, black with ruffled pink dress shirt opened enough to show off my golden compass. Since Oliver gave it to me at Christmas, the only time I’ve taken it off was when I had surgery. “To always find your way back to me.” The man gives good gift. I also fasten the charm bracelet my mother
gave me when I was a child, my most prized possession for years, lost then found by that same vampire. Crud, I’m getting misty just thinking about it. I don’t know how one man can be so wonderful one minute and the next grow horns and a tail. Thank God for work. Solving a murder should be a great distraction.
I leave Nancy to get ready and go down to the lobby for my complimentary breakfast. The men, devoid of a necessary beauty ritual plaguing us gals, are already mingling with the suburban tourists, who steal glances at these handsome men in suits packing heat. My handsome man sits at a table reading a newspaper with three Danishes piled high. He is damn delectable himself today in a dark blue suit, striped tie and white shirt. I’m a sucker for a man in a suit. “Good morning,” I say before giving him a quick peck on the lips. I can’t believe I finally get to do this every morning from now on: kissing, goo-goo eyes, eating a breakfast together just like a real couple. Oh my God, we’re a real couple!
“Morning,” Will says, beaming up at me. Guess he can’t believe it either.
I swipe a blueberry Danish before sitting across from him. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a rock. You?”
“Would have been better if you were there.”
“Well, that goes without saying,” he retorts with a smirk.
Chandler steps over to our table, once again ruining the mood. “Good morning, Alexander,” Chandler says with his usual stony expression.
“Agent Chandler, how are you this beautiful morning?” I ask with my brightest grin.
“Fine,” he says dismissively. “Will, you should get going. It’s almost an hour drive to Charlotte.”
“Just going to finish my coffee,” Will says, holding up his cup.
“Good. And Alexander, you’re on evidence until it’s time to interview the Park Rangers. And keep your phone on. I may need you to run down more leads as they come in.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” I respond with a salute. He is not pleased. His thin lips purse with disapproval before walking over to Rushmore’s table. I roll my eyes. “Can you please get your job back from him? Orders sound much sexier coming from you.”
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