by Ashlyn Chase
His eyebrows lifted. “I don’t think I can wait that long.” He leaned in and nuzzled her neck. “I want you in my bed.”
His nose tickled her and she giggled. “At least wait until we can have sex again.”
“Why can’t we have sex now?”
She burst out laughing. “Are you kidding me?”
“Look, nobody’s perfect. Not even me.” He grinned.
“Well, I wouldn’t wish my condition on my worst enemy.”
“How did you get it?”
“I was born with it. It’s inherited. I’m half Irish and half Finnish. Unfortunately due to a genetic mutation, about ten percent of Finns have it.” She lowered her voice. “And now you know we’re both mutants.”
He laughed. Whispering in her ear, he asked, “Did Angie remember anything other than what Sly told her?”
“No,” she whispered back. “I think her memory’s back to the way it was before she found out. Now we have to be extra careful not to discuss the w and the v words while she’s around.”
“Think you could make it to my place?”
Her eyes rounded. “Tonight?”
“Yeah. We have stuff to discuss, and I have to go to New York again.”
“No way.”
“Why not?”
She smirked. “I’m not ready. I’m barely in control of my, um, situation. Any minute now…” Her stomach started to roil. She jumped up and ran to the bathroom, tossing a “See? I told you” over her shoulder.
Nick laughed. “You’re still adorable.”
Chapter 22
Nick was glad Drake had been right about Martin Rossi’s limo driver. The guy was more than willing to take a bribe.
“So, I guess all we have to work out is how you’ll deliver him to me and when.”
“Hey, I don’t want him knowin’ I had any part in dis. If you can figure out a way to stop me as I’m drivin’ him somewheres, den, you know, you can grab him and take him in for questioning or whatevah.”
“I’m not a cop and even if I was, I wouldn’t have any jurisdiction here.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well, how you get him is your problem. I can tell you when I have him in my car without any bodyguards, my route, and when we’ll be on the road. Maybe you can set up a roadblock or somethin’.”
Nick didn’t know how strong dragons were. If a werewolf could overpower him easily, yes, a roadblock might work.
“In your opinion, would he be helpless to defend himself against one powerful man? Is that why he has bodyguards? Or would I need a small army to bring him down?”
The guy shrugged. “I ain’t never seen him in a fight. He pays people to do his dirty work.”
“It sounds like I can take him.” I’d better call Drake to be sure.
The driver looked up and down, obviously sizing up Nick. “Yeah. You’re a big dude. You could probably wrestle him to the ground. But he’ll yell for me to help him. If I don’t, he’ll know I sold him out.”
Nick thought about the predicament for a moment. “How are your acting skills?”
The guy laughed. “Well, I ain’t never been in a play if dat’s what you mean.”
“If it looked like you were coming to his aid, and I pretended to hit you, could you act as if I had knocked you out?”
Light dawned in the man’s eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Den it would be you against him, and I’d be off da hook.”
“Exactly.”
“Yeah. I could do dat. Hell, I could even take some actin’ lessons. Maybe after I lose my job I can become a stunt man or somethin’.”
“That’s a great idea!” That’s a terrible idea. People have to practice for years to do that sort of thing.
Nick dug a paper out of his pocket. He had already written the number of his disposable cell phone on it. “Here’s how you can reach me. Do you think he’ll be going somewhere in the next few days?”
“Yeah. He visits his mistress every Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Perfect.” Nick felt even better about doing whatever he had to in order to get this guy. He had little sympathy for a man who cheated on his wife.
The limo driver shuffled his feet. “So, we have a deal?”
Nick extended his hand. “Absolutely.”
The guy shook it.
“Oh, one more ’ting. You said you’d pay me in cash. I want a down payment.”
“Right.” Nick had expected that. He removed his wallet and peeled off five hundred-dollar bills. “I believe half up-front is customary. The other half on delivery.”
“Yeah, and make sure he doesn’t see you givin’ me the other half.”
“I’ll tie him up and blindfold him before you,” Nick made air quotes, “‘wake up.’ I’ll have the money in an envelope and I’ll toss it into the limo.”
“Okay. You sure you can pull this off?”
“Unless he has superhuman strength I don’t know about, yeah. I’m sure.”
The only thing I’m not sure about is what’ll happen to him once I deliver him to the mayor and police commissioner. Then he thought of Gaia. If only he could get her to zap this guy to an island the size of a postage stamp!
***
The following day, Nick kept his cell phone on, anxiously waiting for the driver’s signal. At last the text arrived, alerting Nick to the limo’s route and status. He drove his rented van to the rendezvous point and blocked the road with large crates. As a werewolf, he had the strength to toss them out of his way as if they were empty shoe boxes.
The limo approached the barrier and slowed to a stop. The driver honked his horn. He probably wants his annoyance to look good for his boss. Suddenly the driver stepped out of the vehicle.
Wait. This isn’t the scenario we agreed upon.
The driver had probably forgotten or become confused. He didn’t seem very bright. Nick approached, figuring he’d pretend to knock him out first. Oh well. Either way, it’ll work. He took a swing, but instead of going down, the driver ducked. The back door swung open and two bodyguards rushed out.
Fuck. I’ve been double-crossed.
After a long struggle, the three of them managed to get Nick to the ground and pinned. They zip-tied his hands behind his back. Fortunately, Nick managed to ball his fists before the ties were secure. That would leave a bit of wiggle room when he relaxed his hands.
The driver laughed. “You thought I’d turn over my boss for a measly thousand bucks? He paid me twice that much to turn the tables on you.”
With a lot of grunting, the goons managed to drag Nick to the limo and force him inside. The boss wasn’t even with them.
The driver took off in reverse, turned the car around as if he’d had stunt driving experience since birth, and roared off.
Shit. “Where are you taking me?” Nick asked.
“Shut up,” was the only answer he received from one of the bodyguards.
Nick’s next thought was about Brandee. What if he never made it back home? Would she think he’d abandoned her? She couldn’t, right? Even with her abandonment issues, he’d made it abundantly clear he’d never leave her. Hadn’t he?
The thought that he might hurt her, regardless of how unintentionally, gave him a sudden surge of strength and he kicked out, hitting one of the bodyguards square in the jaw.
“Ow! That hurt, dickwad.”
The other one pulled a weapon while the first guy rubbed the back of his neck. “We was supposed to bring you to da boss alive, but accidents happen. Don’t try that again, or this gun might accidentally go off.”
Shit. Shit. Double shit.
***
Nick was refusing to walk to his doom. If they insisted on taking him into the mansion, they’d have to drag his deadweight up the stairs. Deadweight. That’s what I’ll be anyway, if I can’t get away.
Tired
of trying to lug him across the manicured lawn, one of them said, “Hey, why don’t we just stuff him in the gardener’s shed for now. We can tell the boss we’ve got him stashed and ask for further instructions.”
“Dat’s a good idea,” the driver said. “I’ll get da key. Can you two hang on to him while I’m gone?”
The only thing his cohort said was, “Hurry.”
Nick had an opportunity, but was it the right one? The men had at least one gun, maybe more. How far would he get? He couldn’t shift in front of humans—no matter what. But it sure would be fun to see their faces as they came face to face with a vicious werewolf.
He’d let them lock him in the shed. That way he’d have the privacy he needed to shift. Whenever they opened the door again, he could leap over their heads and run. He’d been clocked at speeds of up to forty miles per hour. He’d be long gone before they got into a car, and he could avoid roads.
Nick felt a little better having a plan that involved his superior senses. He’d be able to hear them coming and he’d be all ready to spring. They wouldn’t be expecting anything of the kind and would be flustered for a few precious seconds. Enough for him to get away.
And now that a crime had been committed, he could enlist the help of the local police. Were werewolves on the force in the Hamptons? It was a remote possibility. They tended to make good cops, so many went into law enforcement—at least in Boston. That might be too much to hope for here in a beach community.
He still didn’t know if dragons had superior strength or not. He’d tried to reach Drake yesterday at the fire station, but he was off for a few days. He wasn’t at Boston Uncommon and Nick didn’t have his unlisted home number, so he’d had to go with what he already knew. Drake had said he could fly. Would the boss shift and fly over the city to locate a wolf on the run? How would one explain a giant dragon in the sky? He might get away with it at night, so Nick hoped he could break out before the sun set.
There were too many possibilities for things to go wrong. He’d have to stay sharp and ready to change his plan at a moment’s notice.
***
That evening, Brandee paced the floor of her apartment. Holding her cell phone in one hand, she stared at it for the dozenth time.
“You can’t make it ring by looking at it, you know,” Angie said.
“Something must be wrong. He always calls by now to ask how my day was and tell me he loves me.”
“I’m sure he just forgot.” Angie patted their small dining table. “Please sit down and eat something.”
“I can’t. My stomach is in knots.”
“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it, so you might as well try to relax.”
Brandee halted and glanced up. “Wait a minute. Maybe there is something I can do.”
“Like what?”
“Go downstairs and talk to the guys at the bar. Maybe one of them knows something. Where he went, what he was planning. Maybe they can help find him and bring him back.”
Angie gave her a pitying look. “It’s a long shot.”
“But it’s worth a try. I can’t just sit around and do nothing. Why did it have to be my evening off? Work might have distracted me a little. Now I’ll be obsessing about it all night.”
“Why don’t you set up the darkroom and do some of your experiments? If I need to use the bathroom, I can always go downstairs.”
“You make me sound like Dr. Frankenstein.”
“I want you to find something constructive to do with your time. Hell, I wouldn’t even care if you decided to sew together human body parts if it would help you stop obsessing.”
Brandee thought about the time Nick had told her he was stronger than most men and, as a wolf, could run much faster. If he is in trouble, he’ll be able to get away, won’t he?
Angie rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I can see the wheels going round and round in your brain. Talk to the regulars. But what if it’s really just that he forgot to call? You’re going to feel like a total ass.”
“So? I’ll feel like an ass. A lucky ass. I’m willing to risk it.”
***
Nick had walked into the shed under his own power. As soon as he was alone, he shifted. As always, the transformation was painful, but he avoided making any more noise than necessary. He imagined someone might be outside, guarding him. A small window let in the rapidly fading light, but it was too small for a full-grown man to fit through. The building itself was built of cinder blocks, probably reinforced with rebar. The door was some kind of metal. The window was his only option.
Perhaps in his wolf form, however, he could fit through it.
He used his superior sense of hearing to determine if the guards were outside or not. He heard no conversation, but there were other noises. Nothing easy to identify. It could be a squirrel, for all he knew.
He crept toward the door and tried his sense of smell. Nothing. That didn’t mean much either. The wind could be blowing the other way.
Could he break the window and jump out?
Suddenly he heard voices in the distance. Someone is coming.
This would be his chance to put plan A into action and hope he didn’t need a plan B—because he didn’t have one.
Before long, the padlock rattled. He positioned himself a few feet away from the door so he could rush them, get a little momentum, and then spring over their heads. It wasn’t exactly a neat and tidy plan, but it should work. At least he had the element of surprise—if not utter shock—going for him. How they would explain to their boss about the switch between a six-foot-three human and a buff-colored wolf was their problem.
The door creaked as it opened. Nick spotted the two guards from before, and there was a third man, but not the driver. It was Martin Rossi or Irwin, or whatever his name was today. He sported the same yellow stripe in his hair as his nephew Drake had. Nick didn’t give them even a split second to realize they were dealing with a new animal and adjust their strategy.
He rushed at them, leaped into the air, and heard gasps as he took off running across the lawn. Suddenly a shot rang out.
Nick felt a hot poker stab him in the butt, and he yelped. He couldn’t afford to stop or even slow down. He dashed toward the tall hedge that separated the dragon’s property from the one next door. Instead of leaping over it, he dove for the small opening near the roots. Even with a few more scratches and throbbing hindquarters, he kept going—pressing on to the relative safety of the nearest Long Island police station.
Getting shot was no picnic, but now he had rock-solid evidence of an attempted murder. That should get Martin behind bars, at least temporarily.
***
Kurt and Tory sat at one of the tables, drinking frosty mugs of beer. Brandee chatted with Malcolm and waited until the back booth was open before approaching them. When the couple who’d been sitting in the desired booth finally got up to leave, she strode over to the wizard and shapeshifter.
“Can I talk to you two?” she asked.
“Of course. Have a seat,” Tory said.
“I’d prefer the back booth, if you don’t mind moving.”
“Whatever the lady wants,” Kurt said.
When the three of them were settled in the booth, Brandee waved away Wendy, who was about to come over. “I’ve got it,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. She picked up a cocktail napkin and wiped off the table.
Wendy gave her an appreciative smile and practically skipped off to another table.
“Guys, have either of you heard from Nick recently?”
The two paranormals glanced at each other, then gave her their full attention. “No. Why? Haven’t you?”
“No, and I’m afraid something is wrong.”
At that moment, Sadie strode into the bar. Her booth was occupied, so as she stood surveying the place, Brandee waved her over.
She sm
iled and approached their booth.
Brandee scooted over so the psychic could join them.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Sadie asked immediately.
“Is it written on my face or did you pick up something psychically?” Brandee asked.
“Both,” Sadie answered.
“I usually hear from Nick a couple times a day. But today…nothing. I know he went to New York on a case, and I’m afraid something’s happened to him.”
Sadie nodded and drew out the velvet pouch she always carried her tarot cards in.
“You’re going to do a reading?” Brandee asked incredulously.
“Sometimes just drawing a single card will speak to me, and I can follow the psychic energy from there.”
Brandee remembered the time Sadie drew a single card for her, and up came The Lovers. The card had sparked her prediction that Brandee was about to embark on a relationship, and immediately Nick walked into her life. Maybe the cards really did speak to Sadie. In that case, Brandee hoped the cards were talkative today.
Sadie shuffled while the group waited in silent anticipation. Finally she fanned out the cards in a neat arc. “Form a question and then draw a card.”
Brandee thought about how to word the question so that she’d get the greatest amount of information. She didn’t just want to know that he was safe, because if the answer was “no,” she needed to know how to help him.
“Can I make it a two-part question?”
“Depends. Are the questions related?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Let’s hear it.”
“You don’t usually ask people to voice their questions. I’ve heard you tell them to think of one, but not to ask it aloud.”
Sadie smiled. “That’s to impress the tourists. They’re always thrilled when I answer the question and they didn’t have to tell me what it was. You and I can cut through the bull.”
That was the first time Brandee had ever heard Sadie refer to what she did in a semi-derogatory way. She might have been concerned, but she knew Sadie was simply referring to her process, not to her psychic gift.
“I need to know if Nick’s in trouble, and if so, how we can help.” Her finger circled the air to include the others at the table. They seemed to understand—at least no one interrupted and said to leave them out of it.