by Karen Ranney
"Yes, but do you have a Jack Russell?"
Jack turned his head and looked up at Marcie, making a tiny little yip of a bark as if saying hello to her.
She shook her head.
“Please, Mommy.” Antonia didn’t whine, but she was coming close.
"You remember what we discussed?" Marcie asked her daughter.
Antonia nodded. "I will walk him every day and take him out to the yard. I will make sure that he's fed and has water. I will take him to the vet myself."
Marcie sighed. "Very well."
I handed the box to Antonia. She scooped Jack up, gently holding him next to her chest.
“My name is Antonia," she said. "I'm going to be your best friend."
She walked past us and back into the castle, leaving Marcie and I standing there.
I really had broken my own rule, but I didn’t feel bad about it at all.
“Forgive me?”
Marcie linked her arm with mine.
“Nothing to forgive,” she said, taking the box from me and putting it inside the foyer.
In seconds some employee would whisk it away. The staff at the castle were well trained, fanatically loyal, and fast.
“How are you?” I asked, deciding to get the most important part of my visit out of the way.
Marcie had, in addition to her daughter, saved my life. She’d given me a second transfusion at great cost to herself. I was glad to see that she looked well, but I wanted to hear her reassurances before I relaxed.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’d ask the same of you.”
I decided to be honest. “Physically fine. Emotionally jumpy.”
Honesty had its limits, however. I wasn’t going to tell her that I’d just been fired. I wasn’t into playing Poor Pitiful Torrance.
“I don’t like nights all that much anymore,” I said.
“It’s not my favorite time, either,” she said and it seemed to me that her smile held an edge of sadness.
“It sucks that you have to live your life always watching over your shoulder,” I said. “Can’t we do something about him?”
“I’ve already tried,” she said. “Look how well that turned out.”
She led me through the impressive hall. As I had the first time I’d seen the place, I studied the armor arranged on each wall, each separate piece perfectly restored and making it seem as if knights stood on guard, ready and willing to protect the castle.
Arthur Peterson, the Chicken King, had certainly liked anything to do with medieval England.
The ultra high ceilings seem to echo our footsteps. I was in my sneakers, but Marcie was wearing flats with leather soles. I could hear the cool air leaving the ventilation ducts high up on the walls. Arthur Peterson might have liked the medieval life, but he wasn’t about to go without air conditioning in South Texas.
“Can’t you go to the authorities? Claim harassment?”
“It’s a vampire on vampire crime,” she said, “since I’m a vampire as well.”
I kept forgetting that. Marcie was a special vampire, the first Pranic, which meant that she could do oodles of things other vampires only longed to do, like walk in the sun, have children, and eat anything she wanted. Other than blood, that is, which she definitely didn’t have a taste for.
Since I’d gotten two transfusions from her, I had a similar nature. My Furry physiology, however, would probably always have the upper hand, cell-wise.
“Vampire crimes aren’t adjudicated in human courts. We’d have to go to the Vampire Council.”
“Okay, but wouldn’t they do something about him?”
“Maddock heads the council,” she said matter of factly, entering a corridor leading to less spectacular and more welcoming rooms.
Once we hit the carpeted runner in the corridor, I relaxed a little bit. The excessive noise – or my acute reaction to any kind of noise – made me tense. Added to the events of this morning, I wasn't my usual suave and urbane self.
The library we entered was one of my favorite places in the castle and it must be Marcie’s too, because we almost always sat here in the comfy wing back chairs, the mullioned window view overlooking the expansive garden Arthur had created for his wife.
The flowers were still going strong, the early fall heat seeming to have no effect on the blowsy blooms dancing in the breeze. Either that, or they were irrigated every morning.
In Texas water was never taken for granted. San Antonio sat over an expansive aquifer, the same one whose fingers reached deep beneath the castle. There was an underground cistern there, too, filled with enough water to outlast a siege of several years. That much I’d learned from Dan.
Evidently, he wanted to reassure me that they were fully prepared.
After seeing Maddock in all his glory I wasn’t sure I was.
“That must make for some exciting council meetings,” I said, trying to imagine Maddock being sane for that amount of time.
“He doesn’t actually attend, I understand,” Marcie said, waving me into one of the wing chairs. “He Skypes.”
She pressed a small button on the table and in moments a feast would arrive via a smiling girl dressed in dark blue and white. Everything on the tray would be things I’d liked from previous visits, along with a few of the newest treats their cooks had devised.
The best hotel and restaurant in the world had nothing on the castle.
“He Skypes?” I asked. Next Marcie was going to tell me that Maddock had an Instagram account and a Facebook page and he tweeted every day. “That’s just wrong on so many levels,” I said.
She only smiled at me.
Chapter Five
Is there such a thing as a Were-cat?
"There is a woman at the clinic, another vet," I began. "I could swear that she's a shape shifter, something in the feline family. Is there such a thing as a Were-cat?”
Before Marcie could answer, an employee appeared in the doorway bearing a tray. She was followed by a second girl with another tray filled with goodies.
I hadn't eaten breakfast this morning because I'd been a little nervous about my confrontation with Alice. Now I was ravenously hungry for a few of the sandwiches. Maybe I’d also have a piece of chocolate cake or maybe a few oatmeal raisin cookies or what looked to be like rainbow sherbet. I hadn’t had sherbet in ages.
Marcie thanked the girls, adding a comment to the second one.
“How are you fitting in, Gloria?”
"Oh, I love it here, ma'am. Everybody’s so friendly and the castle is the most beautiful place on earth.”
Disneyland it wasn't, but you couldn't tell Gloria that.
"Let me know if there's anything I can do," Marcie said.
The girl nodded and nearly backed out of the room. I couldn't help but wonder if she had tried to curtsy or genuflect in front of Marcie.
Marcie was treated like a queen at the castle, but she didn't act regal or self-important or the wife of a phenomenally wealthy man. She was like my next-door neighbor or a friend from college, someone I could talk to and confide in. Yet all this time — until two weeks ago — I’d never appreciated the degree of her concern, worry, or even fear. Maddock threatened her, but he also threatened her children and that had to terrify her.
She wasn't a whiner and she didn't list her complaints. Instead, she seemed to look at life with a very calm acceptance and optimism.
I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.
She took to the sandwiches just like I did, picking up a few of the delicate little triangles of bread with the crust trimmed off. I ate one chicken salad and then two more pimento cheese sandwiches.
"Yes," Marcie said after she finished her two triangles. ”There are shape shifters of every kind of species. You need to take advantage of the library," she added.
I thought about that for a minute. I wasn't entirely certain I wanted my education expanded. Did I really want to know that there were gnomes? Or that what I thought was a cockroach was actually a tiny
little version of something paranormal? I had lived, so I had always thought, knowing more than every civilian I'd ever met. They might have been aware of vampires, but I knew about Weres. Wouldn't it be funny if the joke was on me and there were hundreds, if not thousands, of paranormal beings out there?
"I'm not certain I want to know," I said, giving her the truth.
She nodded as if she expected that response. "Wisdom comes with its own responsibility," she said. "Once you learn something you can't unlearn it.”
"So how do you cope knowing so much about so much?”
She smiled and this time there was no sadness in her expression.
“You only look at it a little bit at a time. It's like turning the pages of the book. You start at the corner and very slowly reveal a few words, before you find the courage to turn the page.”
"Have you always known about werewolves?" I asked her.
“No. I found out about them early on, but everything about them surprised me." She took a sip of her tea, her eyes twinkling over the cup. "You're the first female Were I’ve ever met, however.”
"Well, I hope I haven't disappointed.”
She shook her head. "Not one little bit.”
"Are there such things as dragons?" I asked.
Part of my curiosity was professionally based. We had sat around at school contemplating what kind of fictional animal we would like to treat. A dragon always came up. Of course, at the time, I hadn't thought that there would be anything like a dragon in reality. I had gotten a nasty chill when one of my fellow students said that he wished werewolves were real.
“I’d do a necropsy from stem to stern," he said to the laughter of the others. Everybody but me, who was envisioning myself spread out on a metal table.
There had been times in my life when I was so tempted to just announce myself to the world, to stand up and say, “Hey, I’m here. I’m Were.”
That was not one of those times.
"You really need to go through our library," she said again.
Oh boy. That meant that there were dragons. Maybe there were dragon people. Maybe there were shapeshifter dragons.
Did they have a physical imperative? Were they linked to the full moon like Weres? It didn’t seem quite fair that we were the only species that had to change at a specific time of the month.
"Can you recognize them? All those paranormal beings? Can you see them somehow?”
"Once you know the signs, you know what to look for.”
"Will I? Is it a Pranic thing?”
"It's an education thing," she said. "Being Pranic doesn't give you any more insight, unfortunately.”
"So how do I figure out exactly what she is?" I asked, segueing back to Alice. "Are there some magical glasses I can wear, or something I could trick her into doing?”
"What makes you think she's a Were-cat?”
"The way she looked," I said, thinking as I explained. “Something about the way she turned her head or looked at me at that moment. It was in her eyes.”
Marcie nodded. "It's entirely possible that you saw her true nature at that moment. Something physical that she didn't mean for you to see.”
“It would’ve been easier if her tail had simply appeared,” I said.
“‘If all the mysteries that were would reveal themselves to me I would know everything.’”
I glanced over at her.
"An obscure poet, the author of one of the volumes in our library. He was quite good at ferreting out gnomes.”
I really didn't want to know anything about gnomes right now. I wanted to do that page at a time thing and gnomes weren't high on my list.
I had been studying Marcie for the last few minutes. Despite what she said, I suspect she wasn't quite herself. The closest thing I could come to describing it was that she was subdued. As if her mind was somewhere else. Or her spirit.
I wanted to help her, but I didn't know what to do. I didn't even know what to say. I knew that if I asked her again, she would respond with a smile and say something like, “Oh no, I truly am fine.”
We both knew that was a lie.
Other than my acute hearing, I hadn't suffered any side effects of being transfused twice. I was afraid, however, that the transfusion had affected Marcie, and not in a good way.
"Has Maddock bothered you again?”
She looked startled at the question. Placing her cup on the table between us, she said, “No. But he knows that we have a great many weapons at our disposal, things that would make it very uncomfortable, if not painful, for him to approach the castle.”
Maybe I should invest in some of those things for Graystone, just to be on the safe side. I made a mental note to talk to Dan about protecting my home.
I had stuck my cell phone in my pocket and it vibrated now. I excused myself and took a peek at the screen thinking — or maybe hoping — that it was Mark. Instead, it was Derek.
Was he calling to apologize? All is forgiven, Torrance, come home.
"Go ahead and take it," Marcie said, standing. “I’ll be right back.”
I answered. “Hello, Derek.”
“I just wanted to let you know that I got the paperwork done ahead of schedule. You can come by the clinic this afternoon. I'll leave the Partnership Dissolution Agreement with Marianne and she can witness your signature. Please don't use the employee entrance anymore. Have you surrendered your employee badge?”
“No.”
That one word was damn hard to say. Not only was I being cashiered out of the practice, but he was stripping me of my epaulets and cutting off my uniform buttons. At least I could avoid Derek and surrender my sword — or employee badge — to Marianne.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll be there this afternoon.”
The quicker the whole thing was over, the better.
I hung up the phone and sat waiting for Marcie to return. When she did, she was looking pale, almost wan. She made it to the chair, reaching for her tea cup.
I reached over and poured her some more tea from the insulated teapot, sat back, and watched her.
My walking lie detector ability was kicking in.
"You're pregnant," I said.
Now that was a shock. Not because I had any say over Marcie's family planning, but because she had given me a transfusion two weeks ago.
"Marcie, are you certain you're okay?”
She understood what I was asking. Had the transfusion hurt the baby in any way? Why the hell had she come to my rescue?
No wonder Dan had been so furious.
"He doesn't know," she said. "Not yet. I wanted to put a little time between me and the transfusion before I told him.”
I occasionally forgot that Marcie could hear my thoughts.
"Well, I don't want to be anywhere in his vicinity when you do tell him.”
She smiled faintly. “It’s not your fault, Torrance. It was my decision.”
I loved her for it. I wouldn't be sitting here right now if it hadn't been for her. She and Antonia had saved me. How could I ever hope to repay her?
She leaned her head back against the wing chair and closed her eyes.
"You can be my friend," she said. "I have so few of those that I can count them on the fingers of one hand.”
Before I could answer that I’d always be her friend she said, “Tell me what's bothering you.”
I took a deep breath, released at, and wondered where to start. What came out of my mouth first surprised me, but then it shouldn't have. My emotions were involved, more than at any other time in my life.
"Mark’s left again. Not left, left, but he's off doing things he can't tell me about. He's been gone three days now and I miss him.”
She opened her eyes, turned her head and studied me.
"Do you feel what you do for him because he's like you? Or is it something different?”
What a question.
“I lusted after him before I even knew what he was," I said, giving her the truth. "Then I began to like him
, again before I knew that he was a Were and Pranic. So, I guess the answer is maybe a combination of both.” I waved my hand in the air. "I don't want you to think that he hasn't called, because he has. But I need more than a phone call. I need his physical presence. I want his physical presence. Besides, I sleep better when he’s in the bed beside me.”
"The males of our species hold us in such thrall," she said with a smile. “It’s the simple things, like sleeping together that are so important. Sometimes, I like just sitting in a room with Dan, knowing he's close, being able to look up and see him there.”
"I think I'm in love," I said. I hadn't planned to say that, but I felt better once I did, almost as if it were a boil I needed to lance.
"Then congratulations and may I express my condolences?”
We shared an amused glance.
It hurt to be in love. It was a bone deep ache, one that I hadn't anticipated. Yet at the same time my emotions felt like they had wings and could soar to the heavens.
In other words, I was a wreck.
"What else, Torrance?”
I pulled out the orange earplugs. "Is there anything you can do about my super duper hearing? It’s getting worse every day.”
She nodded slowly. "I can teach you a spell to use," she said.
“A spell?” I didn't have any witchy abilities.
Marcie smiled. "You forget, you’re part witch.”
Hell, I had forgotten. Witch, Vampire, Were.
Lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my.
Chapter Six
Wouldn’t that just frost Derek?
I normally learn things quickly, but it took two hours for me to master the complicated spell that Marcie taught me. The spell was in Latin and featured the words tantum audi quod volueris along with libenter audiendi audiat which turned out to be a tongue twister.
Bottom line, the spell would allow me to turn on a volume control to what I was hearing. I couldn't eliminate sounds completely, but I could ratchet them down until they were little more than white noise. The effect would only last until another sound became dominant in my environment and then I’d have to recite the spell again.