Relieved he’d been a big man about my faux pas, I answered, “So I gathered. Tainted blood and all that.”
“I think C.K. and Hazel are up to their eyeballs in this with distribution, but I haven’t gotten in close enough to find out. Infiltrating a gang enough to get into the inner circle is chancy stuff as it is, and C.K. is more careful than most. Tristan Keith needs to back off before he screws up my case.”
Bane didn’t know much if he thought Tristan would take warning from anyone when it came to taking care of Fulton Falls. Great. I was stuck between two very alpha males and not in the good way. “Maybe I can get in where you haven’t,” I offered as a compromise.
“Ghosts can’t testify in a court of law. Anything you find would be inadmissible.”
“But your testimony wouldn’t be, and I can tell you where to look. No one else needs to know I’m helping. I just have to avoid being seen by Hazel.”
Bane scowled. He shot a look over his shoulder at the club. “He could hurt you, and darlin’, he enjoys hurting women.”
Aw, the big, bad wolf wanted to keep me safe. Maybe I should give him a bone in thanks. Then I winced. Another bit of bigotry from yours truly. Was I that big a racist? I had some serious work to do on myself.
To Bane I said, “Thanks for the warning. Witches are bad enough. Sadistic witches are definitely low on my Christmas card list.”
He crossed big, beefy arms over his big, beefy chest. I might be guilty of unthinking slurs, but it wasn’t because I found the shifter unattractive physically or intellectually. Chalk it up to ill-bred snobbery. I would get better. After all, I liked Gerald and the other weres in Tristan’s employ. I had no excuse for stupidity.
Bane asked, “What’s in it for you?”
I’d been so busy taking myself to task for calling shifters ‘varmints’ that I’d lost the thread of our conversation. It took a moment for me to remember we were discussing my involvement with the Beasts. Then I had to ask myself what indeed was in it for me. I really wanted to stay on this case despite my utter disgust for the Beasts, C.K. in particular.
It came down to the same old reason. “Being dead is boring, Bane. I don’t sleep, I can’t shop, I’ve seen every movie at the theater twice now, the college lecture series has been axed due to budget cuts, and one can spend only so many hours reading before you need to do something. Even Halloween pranks have gotten old already.”
He frowned. “I can’t help you if you get into trouble, you know. As far as the law goes, you’re dead and therefore, you have no legal protection.”
I snorted. “I’ve dealt with worse than a bunch of var — excuse me, shifter bikers.”
Darn it!
“Bane, I don’t really think of weres as vermin,” I hastened to explain. “I didn’t hang out with paras before I died, and I had a lot of misconceptions about your kind. I’ve learned better since then. I keep saying ‘varmints’ out of habit. I sincerely apologize, and I will do better.”
He sighed. “I’ve been called a lot uglier. I guess if you had a real prejudice, you wouldn’t have done the horizontal bump with me in there.” He leered a little at the memory.
Oh, I hadn’t minded that one bit. At least not until I remembered my two boyfriends. Swallowing hard, I said, “Thanks for not taking offense.”
Bane wagged a finger in my face. “Don’t screw up my case, Brandilynn. And I swear if Tristan Keith comes barreling in here screaming about poisoned blood supplies, I’ll stake him on the spot. Got it?”
I didn’t contain a shiver as he loomed big and scary over me. “I hear you. I guess I’d better get out of this body now. I don’t know how much she’ll remember.”
Bane deliberated. “Fizz’s brain is Swiss cheese after all the meth she’s done. She’s clean now, but the booze and pot keep her from being reliable. Still, if she knows who I am because of this—”
I had an idea. “I’ll let her go, and if there’s a problem I’ll jump back in until we figure out what to do with her.”
“Okay.” He eyed me real thoughtfully. “You know, your boyfriend is a lucky guy. I didn’t for one second think I’d get it up in there with everyone watching. I definitely wouldn’t have with Fizz.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice.” I didn’t explain that during my days as an escort, a few extra dollars would get a trusted client more than just a honey on his arm. It’s not something I’m proud of, but there’s no undoing it at this late date.
Bane startled me by leaning down to kiss my cheek. “I do owe you thanks. Don’t think for one second I’m not grateful.”
I squashed the fluttery feeling in my belly. Keeping my voice level, I said, “Yeah well, give Fizz the business once in awhile, because I don’t plan to do it again.”
He nodded. “I hate casual sex, especially with someone I’m not attracted to. You’re right though. If you can make that kind of sacrifice, I guess I’d better man up and do the same. Are you going to spy on C.K. if letting Fizz free goes all right?”
“That’s my plan.”
“Go for it, then. And Brandilynn?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful.” His tone held real concern, and I couldn’t help but smile and press my own kiss to his slightly furred cheek.
Before anything else crazy could happen, I pulled free of Fizz’s body. She staggered as she resumed control. I waited, ready to spring back in.
Bane grabbed her by the arm to steady her. “Hell Fizz. What’s wrong with you, anyway? You’re acting flakier than usual.”
She looked around wildly, her eyes wide with confusion. “What happened?”
Bane shook her a little. “You got me in trouble with C.K., you impatient bitch. Do it again and I’ll beat you senseless. Got me?”
Before she could answer he snatched her close to kiss her hard. The embrace held more violence than affection, or even just lust for that matter. Still when Bane pushed her back, Fizz was smiling. Seeing her accept and like such treatment, even though it was only an act on the shifter’s part, made me feel sick inside. Some people think I’m utterly screwy to enjoy being a sub, but Fizz’s lack of self worth had me beat by a mile.
“Sure Bane,” she breathed. “Whatever you say, baby. I can’t – I really can’t remember what happened though.”
The werewolf shook his head. “Fizz, you don’t remember shit half the time anyway. Shut up and let’s go back inside.”
“Okay.” She practically skipped at his side as they returned to the thrash metal thumping environs of the club.
I sighed and reminded myself this assignment beat hanging out at the library with nothing but books and the mindless image of residual haunt Miss Gertrude to keep me company. I followed the happy couple back into the building.
Chapter 5
I bypassed the tables and bar, the foosball and pool tables. I slowed as I approached C.K.’s office, worried I could run into Hazel at any moment. The nasal whine of the witch and C.K.’s gravelly grumble told me the two men were in deep conversation. I chanced peeking in the room through the cracked open door.
I couldn’t see much due to the sliver of viewing space. C.K. sat on a battered desk, his short, thick legs ending well above the floor. Hazel slouched in a chair in front of him, his back to me. Good deal. From the witch’s position, there was little chance he’d see me there. I strained to hear their low-voiced conversation.
Pig Boy muttered, “I want that shipment scheduled. The vamps are going down all at once.”
Hazel picked at his fingernails. His hands were small in relation to his lanky frame. “The ship is already on its way from Liverpool.”
C.K. scowled. “There are a lot of bloodsucker sympathizers in Britain. I prefer France, where they still keep a lid on the paras.”
“French security is too tight, and they don’t hire any weres to hold the borders. The Liverpool Beasts have several members as well as the property to get the job done. That’s why I went with them.”
C.K.’s lip wri
nkled back to display more of his yellowed tusks, then he abruptly relaxed. “We’re almost there. Over eighty percent of bloodsuckers drink the bottled and pouched shit. Once we get it all on the market, it’ll be a fucking fanged holocaust.”
My mouth dropped open. Was this little werehog behind the whole tainted blood issue? Was he the actual kingpin of the operation? My dislike and respect went up a millionfold in an instant.
Hazel was laughing, a screechy, fingernails-on-the-chalkboard sound that made my teeth grate. “The norms might give you a parade. Then they’ll start looking for ways to annihilate shifters too.”
C.K. scratched his crotch, satisfaction radiating off him in waves. “By that time I’ll be national, baby. Heading up the whole fuckin’ thing. The Beasts’ war chest will go straight to R and D. With your smarts and the right research labs under my thumb, norms will be the minority right after we wipe out the vampires.”
“Better living through chemistry.” Hazel offered more screechy laughter at his own joke.
C.K. was back to being grouchy. “Give up trying to be funny, Hazel. Stick with the distribution of bad blood and Zoo Flu.”
Holy crap. He was looking to infect the human population with the shapeshifter virus too?
My head reeled with the implications of what the Fulton Falls’ Beasts leader was up to. C.K. wanted to kill off humans as well as the vampires. No way he could really make it happen, not that many of the population, but he could still hurt a lot of people, para and norm alike.
They’d said all the important stuff apparently, because Hazel rose to leave. I ducked into the surprisingly clean if dated ladies’ room, listening until footsteps faded down the hall. Peeking out to make sure the coast was clear, I next ventured far enough down the hall to see Hazel walk out of the club. Good. I was invisible to everyone again.
I found Bane in the middle of a poker game with other Beasts. Fizz hung over his meaty shoulders, her expression giddy with infatuation. For his part, Bane ignored her but made no complaints as she kept bottles of human beer and kisses on his stubbly cheeks coming.
“Good to see you’re showing some sense, Wolf Boy. Keep her happy and stay alive,” I said. I can’t tell you how relieved I was that Fizz showed no signs of remembering my hostile takeover. The stripper must have been used to losing time because of her past drug use.
I hung out for hours, waiting for Bane to leave the table so I could find a way to communicate what I’d learned. Unfortunately for me he was on a winning streak, lightening the other bikers’ wallets. As soon as one player gave up the game, another would take his place. Bane grinned broadly throughout, having a good time. Men just love to win, and as long as someone was willing to buck Bane’s run of luck, he was willing to play on.
When I saw by the clock over the bar that daylight would be arriving soon, I gave up. “I guess I’m not going to be able to share the news with you, big bad wolf. I’ll check in later,” I told the unaware agent.
I stepped outside, seeing the first glow of morning lighting the sky. A dusting of frost coated the sparse tufts of grass on what was a very scraggly front lawn. Cold no longer affects me, and I missed feeling autumn’s first chill on my skin, the burning sensation of breathing in the dry, crisp air. That slight taste of it in Fizz’s body had gone unappreciated because my thoughts had been elsewhere. A melancholy seized me. Every time I think I’m used to being dead, something new reminds me of the things I’ve lost.
Something else bothered me on this fine, clear morning. Now I had to face my two boyfriends and tell them about the terrible threat to para and normal folks alike. Even worse, I had to admit to what I’d done with Bane. Despite the fact it hadn’t been my body and it had been in response to an emergency, I had a dreadful certainty that bit of disclosure wasn’t going to go well at all.
I materialized at the old Fulton Falls’ Library. Usually if I wasn’t at the King George, I was here. This is Dan’s special place.
My rugged Marlboro Man was in his favorite spot, reading a book at the head librarian’s desk. In front of him, lit softly by lamps, long wooden tables marched in a row down the center of the main reading room, wooden chairs lined up with precision around them. All around us, banks of shelves filled with books, both ancient and new. Standing among the shelves behind Dan, an old woman wearing Victorian clothing perused a slim book, as she been doing probably since the library burnt down in the Great Fire of ’36. Dan named her Miss Gertrude after his grandmother, whom he says she resembles.
Miss Gertrude doesn’t care about what we call her or even that we’ve gotten frisky right in front of her on many an occasion. She’s what is known as a residual haunt. There’s no mind behind her image; she’s part of the library’s memory. Yes, the library has a memory. Like the King George, it’s one of those special places that was so well loved in its day that it possesses a ghost of its own. What’s actually left of it is the burnt outer shell of the first floor, buried beneath the modern Fulton Falls. But we dead see it as it was in all its grand glory. It’s a beautiful place.
My mind wasn’t on our beloved library right now. I looked at Dan’s bent head, his short, coarse hair rumpled in natural waves, his capable hands wrapped around a book. A new one by Earnest Hemingway, I saw.
Death doesn’t slow the greats down. Madness from eternity’s boredom is another matter altogether. Fortunately, Papa Hemingway hasn’t succumbed to insanity yet.
Even a new novel couldn’t take my attention from the more rugged of my boyfriends. Looking at Dan, I felt such an upswell of adoration that I thought I might burst. One of these days I’m going to get over my fears and tell this man how much I love him. But not today. Once he finds out what I’d done with Bane, it’s going to be the last thing he wants to hear.
To soften the blow, I changed from the leather to a pretty blue sheath dress, keeping it simple to accentuate my curves. Sexy and demure all at once, I gave myself matching high heels. I shook my copper-colored waves out to cascade down my back. I was as ready as I’d ever be.
“Hi, gorgeous,” I said softly.
Dan looked up at me and smiled. Oh gosh, he is so devastating when he smiles. “Talking to yourself again, baby girl?”
I snickered, came around the desk, and planted a smooch on his waiting lips. “Too smooth.”
He set the book down, but kept his hand on it. If you take your attention away from stuff in the library, it puts it back in its proper place. That’s only convenient if you’re finished with the object at hand.
“How is your espionage going, Mata Hari?” Dan asked.
I perched on the desk corner. “I have tons of news, but since Tristan will be here any moment, I’ll wait.”
He brightened, something he rarely does when Tristan’s name leaves my lips. “Really? I can’t wait to hear what you found out.”
He stood and kissed me with such sweetness that my toes ached. Oh jeez, did I really have to come clean with him?
Yes, I did. I am many things, many not-so-good things, but one thing I can claim not to be is a liar. Especially with someone who means as much to me as Dan.
I took a deep breath. “Hey, did you hear about the undercover ATF agent with the Beasts?”
“Tristan told me. Good work finding that out about Bane.”
I kicked the desk, one foot at a time. “Yeah, well he got himself in a tough spot last night. C.K. was ready to do some damage.”
“Is he okay?”
“I had to help him out. If I hadn’t jumped in, he might have gotten himself killed.”
Dan’s mood darkened just a hair. I think he heard the worried defensiveness in my voice. “Jumped in? How?”
I looked down at my kicking feet. “Literally. I took over one of the women who hangs out with the Beasts. Fizz? You know which one she is? Spiky blond hair, skinny?”
He knew. “Stripper. C.K. gave her to Bane as his personal property.”
“Bane hasn’t been doing the wild thing with her, and she called his
manhood into question. It got ugly because C.K. thought he was gay.”
I dared to look up at Dan. Uh oh. He’d gone real still, his expression openly suspicious.
He asked, “And you did what?”
Carefully I answered, “C.K. wanted Bane to boff her right then and there in front of everyone. But Bane couldn’t, um, perform.” I hated the plaintive tone rising in my voice, but I couldn’t quiet it. “I was afraid they’d hurt him, Dan. I had to do something.”
Fury sparked in his chocolate brown eyes, and his jaw clenched. His voice just this side of a full storm, he growled, “No, you didn’t. You didn’t have to do a damned thing, Brandilynn.”
Netherworld II: Blood Potion No. 9 Page 8