by Kim Schubert
While I had no problem dismembering a living body, doing so to a dead body was slightly unnerving. I pushed down my breakfast that wanted to make an appearance, threading my emotions into a slow and easy braid to keep my mind off the fingers and blood I was taking.
My phone vibrated, but I ignored it. The sooner I got the samples to Tate, the sooner I would know what the hell was going on.
Leaving the same way I had entered was my best escape route. Balancing precariously on the occupied table, I stretched my body, my fingers grasping the edge of the vent before pulling myself up. Using my physical abilities felt great; I had neglected them over the past few days. Perhaps, if I had time, I would even go for a run, in which I wasn’t being chased or chasing something. That sounded divine.
Once I had jogged a few blocks away from the morgue, I checked my phone. It was Kass with a reminder that Logan would be in town tonight. Fantastic. I groaned. I needed to wrap up the hit on me with a hit on one of his, and by "wrap up," I meant kill Steven and deliver his head.
I texted Jerry, Ready.
We had already agreed to the pickup location. Now I just had to wait until he got rid of Mercer and got me. I probably had at least an hour, which was why ten minutes later, I was highly suspicious when the Beast drove up and Jerry rolled the driver’s window down.
Cautiously, I crept from the shadows of the alley. I was mortified when Mercer leaned forward and said, “Let’s go, thieving beauty,” and sat back just as quickly.
Throwing caution to the wind, I stomped to the Beast, and jumped in the backseat.
“Jerry, what the fuck?” I hissed.
“He was on to me in the first ten minutes,” Jerry answered without much interest.
“I’m not giving the samples back,” I said daring him to try anything.
Mercer didn’t bother turning around in his seat. “Didn’t think you would. Turn left here,” he directed Jerry.
“How do you know where we’re going?” I asked, since I hadn’t texted or called Tate to let him know I had been successful.
“If you think you’re the first one Tate approached to obtain those samples, you would be mistaken,” he said. “But you are far more capable of breaking into the morgue than anyone else.”
I sat back hard against the seat, pulling my silence around me like a protective cloak. It had only been an information-gathering mission to Tate. I scolded myself for thinking it could have been anything else, and I was grateful I hadn’t given in to my desires. At least self-denial was good for something.
Jerry looked at me in the rearview mirror. “You okay, Olie?”
“Just fine,” I said, turning my attention outside my window.
It took an hour to reach the lab and Tate; thankfully, I had packed dry ice in my satchel. I didn’t bother saying a word as I threw the backpack at him in the underground bunker. It was in the middle of deserted farm county, far enough from the city to guarantee privacy, but close enough for Gunner, the resident forensic lab geek, to get to town, if he needed to.
The inside the of lab was spotless with stainless steel work tables and machines I didn’t even want to understand that whirled, stirred, and beeped as the results were being processed. Gunner was a sight to behold; overweight, he waddled more than walked, mumbling to himself and giving the rest of us cautious, brief glances. He didn’t like us in his domain. I couldn’t blame him; I felt the same way.
He had tried to get us to leave, but Tate flatly refused. Gunner, motivated by Tate’s undead nonverbal threat, decided not to broach the subject again.
I sat against the wall, out of the way, mentally berating myself for falling so easily for Tate’s trap. I was an idiot, even if we might learn something valuable here.
Jerry, Tate, and Mercer wisely kept their distance from me, banding together close to the door.
“That was fast,” Tate said to Mercer, leaning against a metal table, his hands casually in his black pants pockets, while his dark blue shirt contrasted nicely with his light Mohawk and eyes. Bastard, I mentally berated.
Mercer cast an uncertain glance my way before returning to his conversation. “After the attack on the second family and Olivia, it seemed apparent I was being railroaded at work when my requests for a rush job went unanswered.”
Tate was staring at me. “You were attacked again?” he asked. I ignored him.
Jerry and Mercer only knew of the mental hijack, while Tate only knew of the physical attack. Personally, I didn’t need them in my business, and all of the above was exclusively my business.
“What was the first attack?” Mercer asked.
Tate answered, “Someone turned her car into an accordion and left her bleeding out.”
“Damn it,” Jerry cursed.
I sighed. “Yeah, I know, not my brightest moment.”
“That opens up who could have gotten ahold of your blood to the entire city!” he reminded me.
“I am aware of that,” I said. “I didn’t have much of a choice; it was either run or get my head blown off by some very upset gentleman.”
Tate’s eyes had started to take on a yellow sheen. “What was the other incident?” he asked still staring eerily at me.
Mercer answered steadily, “Yesterday, the murderer hijacked Olivia’s mind and made her watch the murders while leading her to the scene too late.”
I rapped my head against the concrete wall, watching Gunner cast a terrified glance my way. He should be scared; I was a walking time bomb. If Steven didn’t get me, the unknown killer would certainly destroy my sanity.
“So-so,” Gunnar started stuttering, “just to clarify…you…you have two sep-separate bad guys trying to eliminate you?”
I gave Gunnar a genuine smile. “That would about sum it up, this week,” I answered.
Gunnar nodded, his pasty cheeks turning bright pink, getting back to the work in front of him, carefully cataloging the samples I had brought.
I liked Gunnar; he had a simple nature, and he didn’t enjoy us being here interfering in his work. “So Gunnar, how long will this take?”
He cast a furtive glance at the three men behind him. “More time than your love life and death threats could warrant conversation.”
I threw my head back and laughed heartily, standing up from the concrete wall. “Now, that is highly doubtful,” I said, stretching.
Gunner cracked a small smile, trying not to notice me stretching. “I’ll call Tate once I finish,” he said, returning back to his work.
Climbing the stairs out of the bunker, Tate was hot on my ass. “Keep your hands to yourself,” I mumbled quietly, knowing he could hear me. “And quit checking out my ass,” I hissed.
Mercer and Jerry climbed quietly into the Beast, leaving me alone with Tate. What the hell?
“Drive back with me,” Tate requested quietly.
“Need another hit?” I asked tapping my neck.
He moved faster than I could track, pinning me against his ridiculous yellow sport car, whispering softly, “If I wanted it, I would have it.”
Have I mentioned he’s a cocky asshole?
Shoving him away, I got into the bumblebee car, not saying a word. Tate was pushing me, and he was well aware of it. From staying the night uninvited to attempting to incite me into fighting him, he was being a button-pushing ass.
The gray interior of the car smelled new, and I had to admit the seats weren’t awful to sit in. Tate started the engine and I understood why people called it purring, but annoyingly loud.
I was aware of his sly cautious peeks as we made the hour drive back. I may have wanted to ask what the hell he wanted, but I kept my silence. Based on his silence, he may have finally caught up with the fact that I killed for a living.
I thrummed my fingers against the door armrest as my stomach decided to growl loudly. Tate pushed a few buttons on his steering wheel and Jerry’s voice came over the speakers. Cute trick.
“It appears Olivia is in need of sustenance,” he declared.
“Did you ask her where she wants to eat?” Mercer asked.
Silence met that question, followed by Jerry’s laughter.
“She isn’t talking to you, is she?” Jerry asked, and I smiled. “Oh, you’ve really pissed her off now. I highly suggest you pull out all the stops and get us some amazing sustenance,” Jerry said, disconnecting the call.
Tate gave me an irritated glance; I raised one eyebrow at him, accepting the challenge.
His grumbling was music to my ears, ever so glad to share my irritation. After a few more clicks on his steering wheel, another voice came over the speakers, one I did not recognize, nor could I place the language. Whatever was said, though, gave Tate a smug smile as he zoomed in and out of traffic into a questionable neighborhood.
“Should I bring my guns?” I asked earnestly.
He scoffed, parking in the small lot and coming around to open my door. “Madam,” he said with regal elegance.
I rolled my eyes at him, crossing my arms and turning to face him. “Right this way,” he motioned, offering an arm. I took it as Jerry and Mercer exited the Beast. Jerry buttoned his black coat, giving me a look, asking if I was serious. I shrugged, staring pointedly at Tate.
Chapter 7
Thirty minutes later, I was singing his praises. Seated in a maroon open booth in a quiet romantic Italian restaurant, I was on my third piece of four-cheese pizza and in heaven.
Tate had his arm resting leisurely on the back of my seat, admiring his handiwork. My eyes had rolled back in my head as I moaned with pure bliss. He chuckled before taking another sip of what I assumed was blood.
I didn’t rightly care, as I was too engrossed in the explosion of tastes occurring in my mouth. Jerry and Mercer were equally enthralled, although Mercer was having a harder time relaxing in such a high vampire population. I wasn’t sure if he knew what was around him or if his instincts were kicking in.
I felt relatively safe in the company of a master vampire and with guns hidden under my jacket, while the bullets wouldn’t kill the vamps, it would give us time for an escape.
Leaning back stuffed, I sighed contentedly.
All I wanted to do was curl up and sleep. Here would be fine; I wasn’t picky. But I had a full afternoon and night ahead of me. Tate took care of our bill, while we waited for him in the shade.
“Well, Olivia,” he said, taking my arm again, walking to the car, “what do you say to some quality time together?”
I stopped midway to the vehicles. “Look, Tate, knock it off. I’m going to get to the bottom of these murders even if you don’t try to seduce me.” I leaned forward, brushing his ear with my lips, “I appreciate your help, but I know you’re not really interested.”
Standing back, a sheepish smile graced his lips. “I’m that transparent?” He said, spreading his hands and shrugging.
I shook my head heading to the Beast. “Call me once you hear from Gunner,” I answered, getting in the back seat with Mercer and Jerry in the front.
“Men,” I complained, trying not to notice the pang my heart gave at that complaint.
Jerry smiled behind his aviator sunglasses. “Tell me about it.”
Mercer scoffed, looking out the window pretending not to hear us.
“You want a rundown of your agenda for the rest of the day?” Jerry asked in his efficient voice.
“No,” I grumbled. “I would really love a nap.”
…
There was no nap. Instead, we dropped off Mercer with a promise he would call if he succeeded in getting around the blocks in the investigation. There was something going on with the children; I just didn’t have a clue what. One battle at a time, I reminded myself. We now had an undead helper finding out everything illegally and a detective trying to find out everything legally; we had to catch a break.
At Kitten, I signed a heap of paperwork, reviewed the dances, interviewed a new line cook, and slept in the offices until it was time to learn the new Latin routine, undoubtedly my favorite style of dance, not to mention the outfits. Our costumes were belly dancing sheer silk scarfs tied cleverly to hide the matching undergarments with the traditional rows of coins embroidered to the fabric. We jingled like it was Christmas.
That’s how Kass found me, shaking my ass to see how much noise I could make. Yeah, at times, I was like a four-year-old.
Laughing, she sat me down, putting layers upon layers of makeup on.
“You going out as Kitten?” she asked.
“Nope, not tonight, just Olie,” I answered, smiling and trying to keep my good mood. I wanted to be tearing apart information on who was killing and why, but there was no new information for me to work on. Honestly, I was just hoping to get out of entertaining the master shifter who arrived today.
“How is everything going?” I asked tentatively.
Kass shrugged, her eyes shining as she blinked rapidly. “Logan and Darren got into a huge fight,” she said, coming to sit in the chair next to me. I swiveled my chair to face her. “He accused Darren of neglecting his responsibilities to the clan by picking me over them,” she said, sniffling.
“What did Darren say?” I asked softly, wondering if the accusations from his brother would prompt a change of heart in him.
“He said, yes, he was. He was choosing his family over the clan, and if Logan had a problem with that, they could part ways right then without further communication.” She sobbed quietly. I placed a hand on her back, letting her cry into her hands.
Darren had made the right choice, at great heartache and peril to himself. Why Logan couldn’t understand the concept of family being more than a clan, but an underlying bond of beings who would never abandon or stop fighting for each other, I could never understand. I respected the terrible decision that Darren had made and was proud of how easily he had made it.
Kass reined her emotions in with a deep breath. “I feel awful, causing that rift,” she whispered, wiping away the tears with the tissue I gave her.
“Kass, it’s not entirely your fault. Hannah is a succ. Whether or not Darren and you fell in love, he would be making the same choices he is now. “
She nodded. “You’re right.” She tried for a smile.
“Thank you, Olivia; I’ve been telling her the same thing,” Darren said, coming into the room.
I smiled at him. “How’s the house hunting going?”
Kass brightened at that. “Amazing. We found this great home; needs a little work, but it’s perfect and close to the manor.” She smiled as Darren walked behind her, brushing a kiss against her forehead and placing his hands gently on her shoulders.
I smiled. “You’ll have to show it to me soon,” I said and mentally added, when my life settles down, which really had no chance of ever occurring.
Kass squeezed Darren’s hand on her shoulder and a pang of jealousy raged through me before I clamped down on it with my iron will. I wanted to be cherished like that, to have no greater worries than family rivalries. Pushing a slow breath out, I reminded myself that the reason it was her only problem was because of me killing anything that came remotely near her and my kind.
I forced a smile, standing. “I’ll see you guys out there.”
“Oh, Olie,” Kass said, calling after me. “I almost forgot; we are trial running warded mage bracelets to see if they can block some of our powers. We wanted to try it with you tonight, since you have the strongest reach, so let it out,” she said with a smile.
…
The music pulsed through my veins until my heart kept beat with it; my breathing became heavy and labored from the constant and never-ending movement of my hips. Sweat dripping down my back to be absorbed into the sheer silk above my ass. I loved every second of it.
My power swelled and rose twirling around my body and those dancing with me. I hadn’t caught a glance of Kass yet, but I assumed it was only because our stage hadn’t circled to her yet.
Our second outfit was a golden glitter sequined mess with a halter-top and a
perfect skirt that flowed with every twist, turn, and booty-shaking move. Smiling, I lost myself to the music, the sense of beauty I found in every perfectly executed move, and the release I felt in my muscles along with my relaxed control.
I never did see Kass, but I did see the majestic demigod from the mall. He gave a small wave, which I acknowledged with a smirk and slight head tilt, much to the annoyance of his date. I can’t lie; I did smile a little wider at that.
When Shakira sang of the She Wolf in the closet, I took Kass’s words to heart and took the lead, pulling out all the stops as I ended on my knees, thrusting my hips and running a hand along my side. The tension in the air thickened as I pulled myself back into the other dancers.
The bracelets were good as gold; no one rushed the stage in a fit of passion, but the effects of the dance were still evident from gaping mouths and panting breaths. After more testing, I could see implementing this full time.
Backstage, I had forgotten how nice it was to have the semblance of a normal routine as I saw the same faces and caught up with the latest gossip. Traveling as often as I did, TV characters became more reliable for social interaction than actual people.
After showering and drying my now short hair, I went out back in the new pink dress Jerry and I picked out with cowboy boots and a few key bling pieces of jewelry.
Outside I was greeted by Jerry’s catcalls. Laughing, I turned around and gave a curtsy. He was impeccably dressed as usual in a black suit and tie.
“Mama, you really need to stop hiding behind those yoga pants,” he said, taking my bag from me as we walked towards the Beast.
I smiled at Mark next to the Beast. “Awe-inspiring performance as usual, Olie,” he complimented, greeting me regally.
“I didn’t know you were a fan, Mark,” I said, sliding into the back seat. He smiled, shaking his head and talking with Jerry outside as I checked my lipstick in the rearview mirror, leaning forward over the center console.