Maybe that was true when the body of her sweetheart wasn’t walking towards her. When she looked up and saw me, Taylor visibly blanched. Without a second’s hesitation, she rose from her chair and abandoned whatever she’d been working on at the computer. She sprinted out the door at the back of the room with a quickness that would have impressed a cheetah.
Someone else noted my approach. Tristan’s secretary Wendy moved from her boss’ desk, the massive one on stage right. Pretty, brunette, and perpetually in her twenties, she beelined to intercept me.
Dan spoke in my ear, though there was no one else around that could hear him. “Stay calm. She’s just doing what she’s been told to do.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Wendy met me and stood in my path. Her smile didn’t look forced for a change. “Good evening, Ms. Payson. Can I help you with something?”
I didn’t mince words. “Getting out of the way would be a nice start. I have to see Tristan.”
I had to give her points for professionalism. She must have been an executive assistant before she died, because her polite mien never altered. “I understand, but Mr. Keith has received huge news. Cliff Tattingail has dropped out of the race for the state legislature.”
That was enough to get me to pause. I heard Dan’s startled gasp behind me. ‘Big news’ was an understatement.
“Since when?” I asked, my voice betraying shock.
Wendy nodded, her excitement clear. “He announced it a couple of hours ago. He decided to run for Tristan’s old seat on the county commission instead.”
Dan snorted, having recovered from the initial surprise. “Tattingail knew he didn’t have a chance against Tristan and Emory Cooper. He’s been polling way behind the two of them.”
Wendy couldn’t hear Dan, of course. He stated the obvious anyway.
I spoke conversationally as I angled to get around Wendy. “That makes the race a little more interesting, doesn’t it? The wingnuts will now back Cooper and make it a closer race.” I resumed my march to Tristan.
Wendy tried to get in front of me again. “Um, yes, so this isn’t exactly a good time—”
I rounded on her so fast she nearly bumped noses with me. “Listen, sweetie. There is never going to be a good time for me and Tristan to talk, not when I’m wearing his sister like a permanent Halloween costume. But we have a bigger issue than his political aspirations – as in life and death matters.”
“A bit melodramatic,” came Dan’s opinion. “Watch your temper.”
I managed to keep my voice even as I took his words to heart and attempted to gain Wendy’s assistance. “I need to talk to Tristan about these shifter disappearances.”
Her professionally polite facade showed up again, replacing her friendly excitement. “Mr. Keith is aware of the matter. I told him that agent from the training academy stopped by—”
“Good. Then I won’t have to take up as much of his time.” I wheeled around and went for the dark haired man who may or may not have been ignoring me on the stage. I was only a few yards from the steps that led up to it.
Wendy’s voice bordered on desperation. “Ms. Payson, I really need to ask you to wait.”
I was still in control, but I decided I needed to make a point. When I turned to her again, I let go of the glamour masking my fangs and red eyes.
“Do you see any Blood Potion in my hand? No, you don’t. And there are a lot of warm, tasty bodies in this room right now. Stay out of my way.”
A deep, smooth voice rolled over us. “Hello, Brandilynn. Did you need to see me?”
I straightened and put the glamour back in place before turning around to face Tristan Keith, the owner of that voice.
He stood at the edge of the bandstand, looking down at us. He wore a modern business suit, but no one could mistake he’d come from an earlier time. In fact Tristan might have walked the floors of the King George in its heyday. He might have danced with flappers in this very ballroom for all I knew.
Gerald stood nearby. His gaze on Tristan said he was less than pleased with his boss. Our resident psychic Lana looked kind of angry too. That’s saying something, because Lana is as bubbly as they come. She almost never gets mad.
Gerald and Lana were my friends. Maybe Tristan treating me like a pariah got on their nerves. At the moment, that was neither here nor there. I had come for answers to other questions, and I was by thunder going to get them.
I gave Tristan the most pleasant look I could dredge up. Look at me, being polite and reasonable. “Why yes, Tristan. I do need to see you, right away.”
Without sparing the hapless Wendy another glance, I mounted the steps to the stage and stood looking at Tristan. Had there not been so much angst between us, the view would have been delightful. Black onyx eyes. Even blacker hair, cut in the fashion of the 1920’s when he’d last drawn a human breath. Classically cut features gave him a beauty that his pale skin rendered an enthralling starkness to. He was not outdoorsy-masculine like Dan, but more like dapper Errol Flynn masculine. He could have worn (and has worn) a tuxedo as effortlessly as most men wore jeans.
I swallowed hard. It sucked to still find Tristan compelling. When I looked at him, even when he was vampire hard and smelled like the dried husk of something long withered, I somehow couldn’t believe we were over. My being cried out against it.
I didn’t dare speak of it with those hard black eyes on me. Instead I channeled what I’d begun to call my inner Patricia. It helped to play her in situations like this. Not to hurt Tristan, but to cope with what we’d become to each other.
My voice was impersonal, with that tiny lilt of sarcasm she used to wield so well against everyone but her brother. “Shifters disappearing without a trace in the last few months. Know something about that?”
Was it my imagination or did Tristan’s eyes widen a little bit? If so, the impression was fleeting. He answered in a flat voice. “I do. Gerald has kept me informed with what he knows. Well-connected weres with families, not the types that aren’t missed when they disappear. I’m assured the police are looking into those missing persons cases. It sounds to me like the situation is well in hand.”
I was not going to be dismissed like one of his other lackeys. “If it was, do you think Levi Ward would be trying to talk to you? You’re not exactly his number one boy, so it must be bad.”
I saw a twitch in his face that time. “The dislike is mutual.” Tristan drew himself up and unexpectedly softened. “You make a good point. Ward would not come to me with the problem unless he felt he had no other choice. What did he tell you?”
Holy cats, we were actually speaking like civilized beings. I eased the snark out of my tone and spoke naturally. “Essentially that the cops have nothing. Not one speck of a clue. A couple of the missing are from Levi’s staff. He’s worried for them and all the other shifters.”
Tristan had brought up an interesting point that I wanted to jump on right away. I looked at Gerald looming over Tristan’s shoulder. His musky animal smell was alive and mouthwatering. Knowing I wasn’t about to chew on that tastiness made a touch of crankiness creep into my voice. “Why haven’t I heard anything about this from you?”
The werepanther snorted. “Yeah, like you need that kind of stress while you’re trying to get your vampire legs under you.”
“I am not a vampire.” Jeez, when was he going to get that through his head?
Tristan considered me. He seemed to come to a quick decision. “Is Dan with you?”
“In spirit if not in the flesh.”
Darn if the corner of Tristan’s mouth didn’t quirk at my little joke. “Good. I’m calling a meeting in about an hour. Both of you need to be there. We’ll deal with the matter at that point ... along with a few other items that need attending.”
I was shocked. Tristan had not included Dan and me in anything for weeks. Not only was he telling us to show up, but his tone sounded friendly.
Befor
e I could recover from my surprise, Wendy sashayed over. She gave me a cautious look before telling Tristan, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Keith, but the Fulton Falls News and that reporter Amy Hoskins are both on the phone. They’re begging for responses to Tattingail bowing out of the election.”
Tristan’s expressionless expression returned. “I’ll take the paper’s call and you can set up an interview with Amy for—” he paused to look at the time “—three hours from now.”
Wendy turned to obey his dictates. Tristan dipped his head to me, his manner back to its formal distance. “I’ll see you in an hour, Brandilynn. Thank you for bringing the importance of this shifter matter to my attention.”
He walked away. He sat down at his desk and picked up the phone to talk to the newspaper. He did not look at me again.
Okay, the abrupt dismissal stung. But at least Tristan had spoken to me this time. That couldn’t be bad ... could it?
I decided to go in search of some more Blood Potion. I had a feeling tonight’s meeting might be intense.
Before I could beat a retreat, Lana stepped forward. “Brandilynn, honey? Do you have a second?”
“Now what?” I mumbled to Dan. I loved Lana but I did not feel sociable at the moment. I wanted to get away from Tristan as much as he wanted to see me gone.
I hid that as I joined Lana at the back of the bandstand. Whew, she’d doused herself in whatever scent Avon had put on sale this month. It darn near made my eyes water.
The psychic medium might have been prone to wearing too much perfume because she spent so much time around shifters and vampires. The overwhelming aroma masked her more delicious natural scent. It kept her from presenting as food.
However I doubted that was the issue. Lana liked makeup. A lot of makeup. As usual, she’d caked foundation on, and it settled unbecomingly in the lines of her cherubic middle-aged face. Her purple eyeshadow matched the eggplant shade of her polyester blouse. Her lipstick was screaming neon pink. Mascara clumped her eyelashes.
Her clunky costume jewelry and cheap bargain clothes were no help to her well-padded body. Nor were her platinum blond bleached corkscrew curls a credit to her skin tone. Yet as I joined this fashion disaster, my face stretched in the first real smile I’d worn all night. Bad makeup could not mask the sweetness of Lana’s true face. In all the world, there couldn’t be a kinder, more giving being. Since breathing was not a necessary function of a vampire body, I didn’t have to avoid her perfume-enveloped body. I wanted a soft-as-a-pillow hug from my friend and I got it.
The rush of affection I felt for Lana steadied my nerves as well as a case of Blood Potion. Warm, cuddly, jolly Lana was a balm for anyone. Her simple smiling presence felt like a blessing.
“Gerald said flying didn’t go so well. And that awful werewolf showed up and laughed at you.” Lana patted my back as if I was a child needing encouragement.
Dan had followed me over and I shot him a dirty look. He suddenly found the chandelier interesting to stare at.
“Yeah, well it’s like going to the grocery store without makeup on. It’s the one time everyone you know runs out for a gallon of milk,” I said, forcing a laugh.
Lana laughed with me, the sound wholehearted with agreement. I blocked the mean thought that anyone who caught Lana without makeup likely wouldn’t recognize her. Lana deserved no one’s petty criticisms, least of all mine.
I’m not sure what got my hackles up. I never saw the presence that was suddenly there. Never heard it. But I sensed it all at once and I went on alert in an instant. My upper lip wrinkled back from fangs that appeared as alarm took away my control.
I pushed Lana behind me, getting between her and the dark shadowy figure emerging from behind the heavy curtain at the back of the stage. I inhaled, getting copious amounts of Lana’s perfume. There was something else as well. Something sulfurous and burnt.
The shape moved forward, slow and sinuous, almost serpentine. It came into the light and solidified. I blinked. He was a man, not some hell creature that I’d half-expected. In fact, I had not seen a less presuming man before. The one stand-out feature was his strange white-blue eyes. They were like the eyes of a Siberian husky, except human. Utterly human, like the rest of him.
Lana rushed to introduce this stranger, her tone gushing. “This is Arthur Dragwald from Britain. He’s a friend of Augustus’. Arthur, this is Brandilynn Payson.”
Arthur bowed, as courtly and refined a gentleman as ever was born. His slightly lined thin face made me judge him to be in his forties. A bedraggled mustache and goatee, brown like the coarse hair that lay to the bottom of his neck, made his long face appear almost horse-like.
I scented a toasty aroma about him. I detected no trace of that earlier sulfur smell, if it had ever existed. Wondering what had gotten into me a moment ago, I nodded to the man. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Dragwald.”
He smiled a slightly crooked-toothed smile at me. Yup, horse-like in a pleasant way. Charming, in fact. His British accent was impeccable. “Ms. Payson. A delight and an honor. Augustus has told me much about you.”
I stared at him to hear a name more dishonored than my own these days. When I realized my silence might be construed as rude, I recovered myself. “It looks like your timing is a little off for a visit. I suppose you’ve been told Augustus has gone off to Greece.”
Dragwald nodded. “I came at his request. He thought your little group might be able to use my talents in his absence.”
“Talents?” Despite the gorgeous accent and fine manners, Dragwald didn’t look to possess much of note. His clothes, though clean, looked nearly as threadbare and bygone as he.
Lana spoke up in tones that shouted ‘lovestruck teenager’. “Arthur is a pyrokinetic.”
“As in setting fires?” If he hadn’t held my undivided attention before, he had it now.
Discerning my sudden unease, Dragwald chuckled. “Do not worry, lovely lady. I am well aware of the great flammability of the body you are ensconced in. I will be judicious should I be required to – how do you Americans put it? ‘Light someone up’.”
No wonder my hackles had gone up when I first saw him. Somehow I’d sensed the danger the man posed despite the unassuming personality. Vampires were basically kindling. When the heat of a sunbeam can set your body smoldering, you learn to keep away from flames.
Dragwald’s horsey smile remained pleasant. I wasn’t sure what to make of him. Despite the fine manners and friendly bearing he seemed almost – I don’t know – alien. He looked human enough. Heck, he looked a lot more human than Tristan or Gerald or me. Perhaps it was a sense of a person lost in time.
That had to be it. Those charming Old World manners had thrown me. I’d heard that despite our shared language, Americans and Brits were worlds apart in some respects. Besides, if he was a friend of Augustus, it had to be okay. I glanced around. No one else gave Dragwald a second look. Dan glanced at me curiously.
I extended my hand for an oh-so hearty American shake. “Welcome to Fulton Falls, Mr. Dragwald. I hope you enjoy your time here.”
He accepted my tribute with an expression of delight. “I’m sure I’ll find it interesting. And please call me Arthur. I think we’ll be seeing quite a lot of one another.”
I stared at my hand in his. He was so warm! It felt as if my icy flesh might melt in his grasp. It radiated the same heat that blood gave me on the inside. I could have held his hand forever just to enjoy the sensation. Especially when he put his other hand on top of mine.
I should get to know more pyrokinetics.
With another bow to me and Lana, Arthur released his hold on me. His eyes flicked to my right where Dan stood. I swear he looked right at my ghost boyfriend, though only fellow ghosts, witches, and a rare few psychics can see spirits. Even Lana can only hear Dan, and not always accurately.
Dan’s brows drew together as their gazes seemed to meet. Then Arthur turned with no show of having noticed anything. He left through the curtains he’d come from.
Lana sighed. “My, my. If all the Brits are like that, our ancestors shouldn’t have been so keen to leave merry old England.”
Dan burst into laughter at her lovestruck words dripping with sentiment. Lana heard him and blushed forty shades of red beneath her powder.
I couldn’t help but grin. “Lana, are you sweet on that suave Englishman?”
She decided not to play coy. “Let’s just say that if he asks me to tea, I’ll learn to drink it hot.” She turned with a saucy little flip of her curls and sashayed off to mine and Dan’s chuckles.
Chapter 3
An hour after Tristan’s summons, we gathered for the meeting. I was startled to see how few of us were present. For some reason I’d assumed it would be a bigger deal.
It was essentially the old core group, minus Patricia and Augustus. Nine of us came into the conference room near my office: me, Dan, Tristan, Gerald, Taylor, Wendy, Lana, Jason the channel who Dan used when he wanted to be heard by the living, and Isabella – the channel I used when I was in ghost form.
We sat around the table and gave Jason time to go into trance so that Dan could enter him. I was the only one who could actually see how that happened. Let me tell you, it was weird. Manly man Dan was kind of superimposed on young surfer-looking Jason Somerville. Jason was the kind of 20-something who rode a skateboard and said ‘dude’ a lot. You’d never suspect there were plenty of brains in his blond head, brains he applied to get his degree in engineering at the local college. Seeing him and Dan talk in this bizarre double-exposure effect made my eyes cross.
I sat at the far end of the table next to Dan-Jason, as far from Tristan as I could get. I was glad Jason had chosen to sit there; it meant I wasn’t being obvious in my attempt to put distance between me and my former sweetie.
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