Hunting Tess

by Kathryn Summers

  He looks at me a moment longer before responding, “Because everyone needs family. You are now part of mine, if you would like.”

  I’m pretty sure my face is on fire. Eliza’s last comment about Parker being easy on the eyes drums in my mind so I fiddle with my bag to try and hide my terribly obvious blush.

  Finally thinking of a response, I look up to see that he’s already left the room. Well, that could have gone better. Maybe, “hey, thanks for the sentiment, it was really nice”, or “sure, I would like to know your family better”, or “you’re beautiful”. I’m sure any of those would have worked.

  “Parker, I need the potatoes here when you’re done. Tess, perfect timing. Could you grab me a large baking dish from that cupboard there? Yup, that’s the one.”

  Placing the dish in front of a bowl filled with raw seasoned meat, I take a bar seat at the island where mother and son work.

  “So, Tess, you go to CU Boulder?”

  “I just graduated, actually.”

  “No kidding! Congratulations. Any future plans?”

  I look to Parker, not wanting to lie to his mom about the vampires hunting me, but also not sure how much to share. “One day at a time, mom,” Parker laughs. “There’s plenty of time to choose a career.”

  “What are you interested in?” Patricia asks, forming meatballs.

  “I’m a decent dancer and thought about owning a dance studio after getting my Masters.”

  Parker makes a pfft sound with his mouth. “She’s better than good. She’s been chosen for the Performing Arts end of the year showcase since she was a freshman.”

  “Is that so? Well maybe you can teach Parker some moves. Goodness knows he did not get any dancing expertise from me.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself mom. I’m sure it’s completely normal to sprain both ankles doing a foxtrot.”

  “Only when my partner has two left feet,” she grins, bumping her hip into him.

  “I’ll have you know the doctor looked at my feet and said they’re completely normal.”

  “That’s because he didn’t ask you to dance.”

  I laugh out loud which causes Patricia to laugh as well. A timer beeps and she quickly washes her hands before opening the oven to reveal a large roast.

  “Goodness mom, there are four of us. How much do you think we eat?”

  She wipes her hands on her apron before checking the meat’s internal temperature with a thermometer. “Your aunt and uncle are coming for dinner,” Patricia says and I don’t imagine Parker’s shoulders hunching near his neck.

  When his mom steps out of the room I question him openly. “You don’t get along with your aunt and uncle?”

  “I get along great with them and my cousins. It’s the company they bring that’s a different story.”

  “Ah. Is this dislike a ‘don’t want to show anyone your wolf’ thing?” A sharp look from him has me burst into a laugh. It takes a moment before my embarrassing giggles subside enough to say, “I’m teasing you. But thank you, that laugh was very much appreciated.”

  His eyes look upward as if searching for someone to explain why I am the way I am which puts me in a new fit of giggles.

  “But it should only be Gemma and Shelby this time,” Patricia says when she reenters the room with a clear container of wild rice.

  “Any friends?”

  “One or two,” she says distractedly, heating the stove to the right temperature. Parker sends me a told-you-so look and I wonder just how bad these girls can be.

  The front door closes and heavy steps sound down the hallway.

  “Did the trial end early?” Patricia asks her husband when he walks into the room.

  “We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning.” Whereas Parker got his mother’s hair, everything else comes from his father. “Glad to see you made it, Parker. Things keeping you busy in Boulder?”

  “You could say that,” Parker replies, throwing me a crooked smile.

  “Any more vampire trouble?”

  “Vampires?” Patricia asks, concern creasing her forehead. “What do you mean vampires? When did you run into vampires?”

  “Don’t worry, mom, Leo handled them like a pro.”

  “Leo! Parker Collins you tell me what’s going on right this instant.”

  “And that’s my cue to leave,” Parker’s father kisses Patricia’s temple before heading upstairs presumably to change. The plea Parker sends to his father goes heard but unanswered leaving him to his mother’s wrath.

  Guilt bubbles to the surface at Patricia’s worry and Parker’s dilemma. “It’s my fault.” The words burst from my mouth leaving all three of us stunned. “I met Leo during a class my freshman year and knew that he was a shifter. So when I ran into a few. . . acquaintances I knew Leo and his brothers could help me.”

  Her eyes flicker from me to Parker and I know this is not the last he will hear about this.

  “Your mother hates me,” I mutter to Parker under my breath as we carry glasses to the table.

  “The opposite actually,” he responds, ignoring the obvious leers thrown his way from his cousin’s guests. “I may have just skimmed over a, rough history, of your time with us. It took her by surprise. And she babies Leo, so she was mostly upset at the thought of him getting hurt.”

  “Wow, they are not subtle, are they?”

  “Try to ignore them. I do.”

  “Parker,” a curvy brunette croons, stepping away from the small group. Her chestnut hair looks like it was straightened to within an inch of its life. She probably wouldn’t tolerate even a single wave. “Let me help you with that.”

  Taking a glass from him she bends over the table, displaying her plunging neckline and everything that entails. An ugly jealousy rears, tightening my stomach and threatening to expand my nails into claws. I don’t think anyone notices my glass hitting the table with a little more force than necessary. But after a calming breath the feeling is gone.

  Parker pays no attention to the advancement and sets the table without any sign of reciprocation. It’s obvious to me that he’s trying not to look uncomfortable. And since he was withholding about where we would be sleeping, it only makes sense to enjoy the show the brunette puts on.

  A muffled yell follows a loud crash of breaking glass. “Marcus Dent you are in so much trouble! Just wait until we get home!” One of Parker’s cousins came with three conniving little boys and I have to wonder if this is what Patricia dealt with when her children were little. Gemma rounds the corner with a sobbing three-year-old in tow. “Excuse me,” she says, crossing the room to exit out the back sliding door.

  “My aunt tells me that you’re staying with my cousins in Colorado, right?” Shelby asks, setting down silverware beside plates and obviously used to the ruckus her nephews cause. Thankfully she has been nothing but kind since we were introduced, and I can definitely see her and Eliza getting along.

  Before I can answer the brunette interjects, “It’s so nice that their house is large enough for guests. I can say that I loved my visit there. The woods provide such a feeling of privacy.” The raw lust in her eyes stifles anything that could be added to the conversation, only becoming more awkward when she undresses him with her eyes.

  I chuckle softly to myself. It’s that or give her a look of such bemused amusement that may just bring out her own claws. Based on Parker’s tired look, I have very little doubt her visit was thrust upon the homeowners who bore her stay with patience.

  “Oh she’s charming,” I tell him quietly on the way back to the kitchen.

  “Don’t encourage her.”

  “Parker, do I detect that she could be wearing you down?” Part of me wonders if the growl that escapes his lips is real or just imagined.

  “Just for that I’m going to use you in my ploy to get her off my back. Don’t blame me if she puts salt in your cup.”

  My heart skips when I think of what he could mean, only to dampen it. He didn’t mean anything by it. Patricia hands me a la
rge bowl of mashed potatoes I carry to the table.

  “How much longer until food?” Dylan, Gemma’s husband, complains with the heads of two boys pinned beneath his armpits.

  “Well maybe if you make yourself useful, we could eat sooner,” Shelby jokes.

  “Shelby, could you tell your parents and Uncle Rich that dinner is just about ready? They’re in the garage,” Patricia yells from the kitchen. Returning for more food, I pass Parker who is carrying a large platter of meatballs swimming in a sweet and sour smelling sauce. The wink he throws me does not go unnoticed because when I come back out carrying a couple of sliced up loaves of bread, the brunette has claimed the only available seat next to Parker. The other seat I’m assuming is either for his mother or father since it is at the end of the table.

  Everyone converges on the room at once as the strange scramble for seats commence. I hang back, unsure where exactly I’m supposed to sit and not wanting to accidentally take someone else’s seat.

  “Tess, sit, sit,” Patricia prods before glancing at the table. “Harley, I hate to be a bother, but would you mind if Tess sits there? I haven’t had the chance to get to know her.”

  A flash of sheer annoyance crosses the brunette’s face before she collects her composure. Two points to Patricia. Throwing her a quick look of gratitude I take the now empty seat and Parker visibly relaxes. As entertaining as that debacle would have been, I’m mildly grateful I won’t have the urge to throw the brunette out the window.

  Gemma disappears with a now sleeping toddler in her arms, returning shortly to sit next to her husband who just happens to sit next to the dagger staring brunette. If looks could kill I’m pretty certain I’d be pinned to the wall.

  The table is full of laughter and love as food is passed down the line reminding me of Thanksgiving. My smile falters as a painful reminder pricks my chest that I won’t have Thanksgiving with my parents again.

  “You okay?” Parker asks, his face filled with such compassion that I want to break down in tears.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You mentioned that you are a dancer, but what else do you enjoy?” Patricia questions, passing one of the plates of carved roast.

  Clearing my throat, I answer her barrage of questions as quickly as she asks them. “Patricia, leave the girl alone, she’s hardly touched her food with the way you’re interrogating her,” Rich comments from the other side of the long table. The sweet smile she gives him is devoid of any malice, and one he reciprocates.

  Discerning similar looks of love as Caleb and Lorelai, I wonder if Parker’s parents are also bonded.

  “Have you been to Seattle before?”

  “No, this will be my first time.”

  “Ah, then you’re in for a treat. I’ve always loved Seattle’s atmosphere. It’s so full of life. Make sure you get a piroshky from Piroshky Piroshky. They’re worth every calorie. And Pike Place is so charming. Oh, and if you have time you have to go on the Ferris Wheel, it gives the best view of Puget Sound. You aren’t scared of heights, are you?”

  “No,” I chuckle, “heights don’t bother me.”

  “That’s good. Whenever we went as a family, I was always afraid Leo would pass out by how white he would turn.”

  “Leo’s afraid of heights?”

  “Nah,” Parker chimes in, “he would go white from not eating anything for eighteen hours. He used to get car sick so whenever we went to the city he would skip breakfast, and then we would do sightseeing stuff before actually eating.”

  “You three did nothing but eat growing up.”

  “You raised three boys who happen to turn into wolves, what did you expect?” Parker jokes, casually leaning back in his chair with his right hand resting on the table a hairsbreadth away from my left one.

  “What were they like growing up?” I ask smiling, having a feeling Patricia won’t hold back any embarrassing stories.

  After the fifth funny story with interruptions or corrections by nearly everyone at the table, my side hurts from laughing so hard and there are tears in my eyes.

  “And that’s why volleyball was banned from their junior high,” Patricia finishes, her own face beaming in amusement while Parker’s cheeks may have a tinge of red.

  “I think Tess has enough stories to last her the rest of the night, thank you very much. But tomorrow will be a busy day and I think we’ll bid you good night.”

  “Spoil sport,” Shelby chuckles.

  But Parker is right. Two days of travel plus an early morning is going to catch up with us. By the time my head hits the pillow I’m already asleep.

  CHAPTER 9

  HER

  Danny works on the twenty-third floor of some big company that develops condominiums. I have to crane my neck back as far as it goes to even attempt to see the top of the building, which I don’t.

  The lobby has several workers in tailored suits manning a front desk where other visitors are signing in and being directed to their destinations.

  “We’re here to see Danielle Peterson with Design Up Inc.”

  The man in front of the visitor sheet glances down. “Name?”

  “Samantha Wigg.”

  He nods once before looking back up with a thick manilla envelope in his hand. “This is for you. She says she hopes you enjoy the city.”

  Mildly stunned at his words I take the envelope before returning outside.

  “Does that happen often?” Parker asks as we walk down the street.

  “Well, no, but she’s probably busy.”

  “We came all this way!”

  “Are you offended on my behalf?” I question, a smile evident in my voice.

  “No, I’m offended on my behalf.”

  “Oh, suck it up.”

  “But why—”

  “She’s being smart. If, by chance, a certain group of undesirables meet up with her for specific information about a certain someone, she can truthfully say that she hasn’t seen me.”

  The thought makes me sad but is probably the truth, especially after what happened to Sam.

  I wait until we’re safely in the car before opening the envelope. Stacks of foreign currency tumble from the wrappings along with two blue booklets and several credit cards.

  “Holy crow,” I mutter under my breath, picking up an official looking passport to see a picture of myself with yet another pseudo name. Curious about the second passport, I open it up to a picture of Parker with a different name. The credit cards are a mixture of the names and I wonder just how much work Danny did.

  “Are you planning on leaving the country?” Parker asks, taking the passport with his picture out of my hands to inspect. Maybe searching for the vampires here isn’t the best strategy. Maybe I should go to Bulgaria. But why is there a passport for Parker?

  Then the answer hits me: Eliza. That sneaky, crafty friend.

  “If that’s where the search takes me,” I respond, taking the passport back from Parker and packing everything away in the envelope.

  If he thinks that the second passport for himself is odd, he doesn’t say anything. Shrugging his shoulders, he merges back into traffic, taking a barrage of twists and turns that make me hopelessly lost as to our location.

  “Where are we going?”

  “There’s a cool little eatery near Pike Place Market. It’s still fairly early so it shouldn’t be too busy yet.”

  Riding in silence my finger trails the edge of the envelope, thinking of what I need to do. I can’t stay with Parker and his brothers forever, or even until this threat has passed since there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight. Maybe I’ll bring up that topic on our way back to Colorado.

  I can’t help the smile on my face as I climb out of the Jeep once we reach Parker’s parent’s house. Now if I do need to go to Bulgaria to solve my little vampire problem, I won’t have a problem getting out of the country undetected. And as much as I would like the company, I can’t ask Parker to travel with me. I have no idea how long, or how dangerous, the
trip would be.

  Light spills from the porch illuminating our short walk to the door. For having only one reason to visit Seattle, we filled the day easily, returning after sunset.

  Parker holds the door for me as we enter the quiet home, his parents probably already in bed. With a long day of travel tomorrow I figure it’s best to follow suit.

  He walks me to my door and I get the sense of déjà vu. Probably because this scenario is pretty dang similar. Instead of waiting for the day to end on a sour note, I say goodnight, not looking at his face because I don’t care to see whatever reaction he’ll have. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

  ***

  I move silently towards the kitchen, not wanting to wake anyone in the house. Remembering where Patricia placed the glasses, I get one before filling it at the sink. The moon shines on the empty street, splaying its beams on the black asphalt. A sip of water cools my parched throat and I feel my eyes start to go heavy. What I need is a full eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

  A flash of movement across the street snags my attention, but there’s nothing there. Looking harder, I wait for something to shift but nothing changes. I wait for about a minute before deciding it must have been my imagination. Putting my dish in the empty dishwasher I’m about to head back to bed when a shadow shifts position. Bodies converge in stealth on the house across the street where Parker’s extended family and friends are staying. Their pale skin could be because of the moon.

  But the gleam of their fangs is not.

  Leaping into action I bolt into Parker’s room, startling him awake before he wakes his parents in silence. The element of surprise is on our side and we don’t want to give that up.

  Patricia is nestled between Rich’s arms through she is on the phone to alert the house across the street of the threat. He kisses her with such reverence that it makes me feel like I’m intruding.

  Parker starts to pad toward the back door in nothing but a pair of sweats and I have to avert my gaze to keep from staring at his muscled torso, especially when he stops in front of me.

  He opens his mouth to say something before closing it again. I almost get the sense he’s going to ask me to stay inside before surprising me. “Be swift and decisive. If they’re the same vampires tracking you then we can’t let any escape.”