Catching an Evil Tail

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Catching an Evil Tail Page 9

by Mary Abshire


  "When's the last time you saw your friend?"

  "Last year. I played in a game against the Phoenix Coyotes. He watched the game, then we went out for drinks afterward. I think you'll like him."

  We stared out the window as the plane rolled into one of the vacant terminal spots. The sun was bright and blinding, especially when it reflected off metallic objects. I had a feeling I was not going to enjoy the warm climate.

  After the pilot gave the approval for us to exit, I followed Jeremy off the plane. A wave of heat hit me and I gasped. Unlike Indiana's humid weather, Arizona was a flaming oven with dry heat. I couldn't decide which was worse.

  Jeremy glanced over his shoulder toward me. "Come on."

  He kept a good pace through the carpeted walkway as he headed for the gate. If I was hot, he had to be sweltering. When we reached the air-conditioned confines of the terminal, my feverish skin felt instant relief.

  "Thank God for air-conditioning," I said while announcements blasted over the intercom.

  He smiled. "There's no way I could live out here. I like the sunshine, but the heat is too much."

  Jeremy led the way, then down an escalator. The airport was crowded, but it was mid-afternoon. As we neared the lower level, I had an eerie feeling of déjà vu. My mind felt strangely awakened and little butterflies danced in the pit of my belly. Hairs on the back of my neck stood on end while energy surged within me. I was certain I had never been in the Phoenix airport before, yet something deep in my subconscious pricked me as if I had.

  I stepped off the escalator and slowed my pace. Men and women walked around me while I scanned the area. Jeremy continued toward the baggage claim and drifted into the crowd. Since he was taller than most people, I didn't worry about finding him later. The strong energy swelling within me along with the sense of déjà vu wasn't anything like I'd felt before. Nothing unusual stood out, yet I knew someone not human was near. I wondered if the source was Jeremy's werewolf friend. I'd never been around a werewolf before, so maybe it was him. I'd soon find out. But it didn't explain the déjà vu sensation.

  "Nina?" said a man's deep voice.

  Ignoring the chattering voices, I sauntered toward the baggage claim area. The niggling feeling persisted. I glanced around, but nothing looked familiar, nothing I could recall. I wondered if Jeremy felt the energy too.

  "Nina?" I heard the man call out again.

  A strong burst of energy passed through me. I stopped in my tracks. The butterflies in my gut swarmed, alerting me to a presence. Surely, there wasn't a spirit lurking around.

  "Nina? Is that you?" a man asked.

  Hearing the name for the third time, I spun around. An older Native American with tanned skin approached. He had long, dark hair mixed with gray. An older Native American woman walked beside him. Her long gray hair nearly reached her waist. They stopped in front of me.

  "Excuse me?" I asked, looking back and forth between the two.

  "It can't be her," the woman said. "She's too young, but it looks like her." The woman lifted her wrinkled hand, and I saw a dark smudge near her wrist. I doubted it was a tattoo given her age. She brushed her fingers on my cheek. A spark of energy stung me and I jerked away from her.

  "Excuse me," I said as I rubbed my cheek. My skin felt sore and tingled. "I don't know who you are or who this Nina is. You've me mistaken for someone else."

  The two of them stared at me with curious and frightening dark eyes. Strong energy flowed from them. My skin tickled slightly and the butterflies in my belly were dancing joyfully. I began to consider they were the source of energy. But why and how? The man clasped the woman's hand and spoke to her in a language unfamiliar to me.

  "Jessie?"

  Jeremy's call captured my attention. He strode toward me with a look of bewilderment on his face. He stopped at my side and slid his hand around my waist. "Something wrong?"

  I glanced at the Native American couple. They stared at us with curious eyes and whispered in their foreign language.

  "Is everything all right?" Jeremy questioned.

  "They've mistaken me for someone named Nina," I said.

  He nudged me. "Come on, let's go."

  Jeremy stayed at my side while he led the way to the baggage claim area. I took a glimpse over my shoulder and the couple continued to watch us. While I didn't fear them, something warned me to steer clear from them. Why they thought I looked like someone they knew was a mystery to me. And why had she touched me?

  Jeremy glanced over his shoulder behind us.

  "Are they still watching us?" I asked.

  "Yeah. Did they stop you?"

  "No, actually, I had an odd feeling of déjà vu. Then I started feeling a surge of energy. I stopped and that's when they approached. They called me Nina."

  "Do you know a Nina?"

  "Don't know one. Never met one. Have no clue who she is."

  "Don't stray far from us then."

  "Us?" I asked, and then noticed he was guiding me toward a short, stout man. My skin twitched while the tiny hairs on my arms sprang to life. Sometimes I wished I didn't have a supernatural radar detector.

  We stopped in front of the husky man.

  "Ryan, I'd like you to meet Jessie Garrett. Jessie, this is Ryan Foster," Jeremy said.

  "It's nice to finally meet the infamous girlfriend," Ryan said with a welcoming smile while he extended his arm.

  I hesitantly shook his hand. "Excuse me, did you say girlfriend?"

  Ryan shifted his gaze to Jeremy, then I did too.

  "Please tell me—"

  "He didn't mean lover," Jeremy interrupted me. "He meant girl and friend. Right, Ryan?"

  "Right." Ryan let go of my hand, then thrust his fingers through his short brown hair, brushing the bangs out of his face.

  I glanced over my shoulder in the direction of the Native American couple. They still stood there, watching us with curious eyes.

  "Having trouble with the locals?" Ryan asked.

  "Why won't they go away?" I asked, disturbed by their presence.

  "Can you keep an eye on them while we get our luggage?" Jeremy asked Ryan.

  "Sure. No problem."

  Jeremy placed his hand on my back and directed me to the baggage carousel. Passengers from our flight stood around, patiently waiting. Bags moved slowly along the squeaky conveyor. We stopped at an open spot on the side of the carousel.

  "Do you feel any extra energy?" I asked.

  His brows tightened. "No, I don't feel anything. Why? Do you?"

  "It's strong energy. I feel it dancing and thriving inside me. I've never felt anything like it before. I don't know if it's this place or them."

  "That's odd," he said, and then reached to grab his bag that was half the size of mine. "They look like they're just Indians, not supernatural."

  "Did you feel anything standing near them?"

  "Nothing."

  "Strange. Why is it I can—oh, there's my bag." I pointed.

  He snatched it before it could pass by. As he set it up on the wheels, I tugged on the handle until it clicked into place.

  Carrying his bag, he started walking toward Ryan. "What were you going to ask before you spotted your bag?"

  "Well…" I strolled along at his side, pulling my luggage behind me. "I was wondering why I sense them."

  "It is unusual," he said calmly. "But probably nothing to worry about. Native Americans are spiritual people. Maybe it's just that."

  We stopped in front of Ryan. Keys in hand, he eyed me with a look of intrigue. His brown eyes were almost the same color as Jeremy's. "You can sense the Native Americans?"

  "You heard me?" I asked.

  "Darling, he has excellent hearing," Jeremy said with a knowing grin. "And an excellent sense of smell."

  "Oh, right," I said, remembering I was standing in front of a werewolf. "I'll keep that in mind."

  "I'm parked over here." He waved toward a nearby exit.

  Once we settled into his ginormous SUV, Ryan sped
away with the air conditioner on full blast. Jeremy sat in the front since I volunteered to sit in the back. Cool air blew my hair away from my shoulders while I stared out the window. The chilly breeze put a pleased smile on my face. Palm trees dotted the landscape and, farther out, reddish-brown mountains stretched along the horizon. Homes and shopping centers resembled the ones in Indy. Thinking of home, I wondered what Dani was doing.

  "Alan wants me to get you checked in at the hotel. Dinner is at seven. If you want to clean up or rest for a bit, I can come back and get you," Ryan said.

  "Does this hotel have a bar?" Jeremy asked.

  "It has everything—a bar, a lounge, a couple of restaurants, a spa, eight pools, a golf course…"

  Jeremy twisted to look at me between the seats. His clothes made a rubbing sound against the leather. "If you want to clean up and rest, Ryan and I can grab a couple of drinks until you're ready."

  "Sure." I shrugged. "That's fine with me."

  "We can take a trip down memory lane, my friend." Jeremy grinned, showing his teeth.

  Ryan shook his head. "Man, taking a trip with you is always troublesome. I don't need any trouble with Alan around."

  "Is he staying at the hotel?" Jeremy asked.

  "No."

  "Then don't worry about it." Again, Jeremy smiled and displayed his white teeth. Ryan chuckled.

  Twenty minutes later, Ryan turned into the entrance of the hotel. A large, round fountain stood in the middle of the lot. Ryan drove around it. After he parked his vehicle near the door, we rushed unloading our luggage so we could escape the heat.

  I stepped into the hotel and amazement flooded me. Everything looked clean, shiny, and luxurious. High ceilings made the hotel open and spacious. Lavish fixtures shined. Fancy oil paintings in large, thick frames decorated the walls. Ryan's boss had gone all out. The hotel looked like an exclusive resort for the rich and famous.

  "Ryan will check us in," Jeremy said as he stopped beside me. "What do you think?"

  "I think this Alpha must have a lot of money to spend," I replied, still eyeing my surroundings in wonderment. "I need to thank him personally."

  "You might want to hold off until Sunday night."

  Ryan strode toward us. "Follow me. I have your key."

  I glared at Jeremy. One key? He rushed to catch up with Ryan before I could say anything. Why did I have a sneaking suspicion I was not going to approve of our accommodations? I followed behind at a safe distance. Safe for Jeremy, that is. I wanted to reach out and wring his neck.

  After a taxing walk from the lobby and down a long hall, the two stopped in front of a door. Ryan swiped the keycard, then the internal lock clicked. He smiled as he pushed the door open.

  Jeremy stood aside and allowed me entrance. I strolled past him and into the spacious suite. The patio window with a view of the mountains instantly caught my attention. Leaving my luggage in the living room, I walked straight toward the patio. Midway, I glanced over my shoulder at the one king-sized bed in the adjoining room. I stopped and spun on my heel.

  "Please tell me we are not sharing this room," I said curtly to Jeremy.

  Jeremy reached for my arm, but I stepped back before he could touch me.

  "No! This won't do," I said, surly. "Either you get a separate room or I will. We are not sharing the same bed."

  "I can sleep on the sofa," he said, eyes innocent.

  "No!" I yelled. "Get your own damn room."

  "I can take care of this." Ryan intervened, stepping between us. "It's not a problem."

  "Could you, please?" I asked in a calmer voice. "I don't care if I have to stay in the cheapest room here. I'll pay for it. I am not sharing the same suite with him." I pointed at Jeremy.

  "Jessie—" Jeremy pleaded.

  Ryan must have sensed the storm brewing in me. He made a hasty exit, leaving Jeremy and me alone.

  "No. Not happening. Don't even try to talk me out of this," I said with my hand raised in the air, warning him to back off. "I'll reimburse him if I have to."

  "Why will it matter if I sleep on the sofa?"

  My temperature flamed along with my temper. "I need my privacy, Jeremy."

  Staying in the same room with him spelled trouble with a capital T. At least when he stayed at my apartment, Dani had been there and he restrained himself to a certain degree. With no one around us, he would have too much freedom and opportunity. I didn't trust him. I didn't think he'd get aggressive with me, but the demon had a way of teasing and tempting until he got what he wanted. I'd resisted all his efforts before, but I wasn't taking any chances the demon would break my resistance down.

  Frowning, he turned away from me and headed for the patio. He crossed his arms as he gazed out the window.

  I stared at his back and cursed him silently. When he'd told me Ryan's leader was paying for the accommodations, I should've clarified that we had separate rooms. Damn the sneaky bastard. He was constantly trying to worm his way into my life and my bed. Did he really believe I'd share a room with him for the next few days? No freaking way.

  The carpet hushed my steps as I strolled to the patio window. I stood an arm's length from him and admired the beautiful view outside.

  "The mountains look so peaceful," he said in a soft voice.

  "Mmm."

  He shifted his gaze to me. "What do I have to do to get you to trust me?" Long, brown lashes stood out from his unblinking eyes.

  Another déjà vu moment popped into my mind as I recalled Drake fighting for the very same thing—trust. I hadn’t trusted Drake until I finally realized he saved lives instead of taking them.

  "You can start by respecting me and being honest. Most importantly, don't manipulate me."

  "Damn," he said solemnly.

  "What?"

  "That means we won't have as much fun."

  I stifled a grin.

  A click from the door jolted my attention. Ryan strode into the suite with a pleasant smile and two cards in his hand.

  "They were able to get the room next door," he said, handing keycards to Jeremy and me. "You can use the connecting door if you want."

  "Thank you, Ryan," I said, taking the card from his hand. "I'll reimburse Alan."

  "No, don't worry about it," Ryan said. "He'll be fine with the arrangements."

  "I'm ready for a drink. How about you?" Jeremy asked Ryan.

  "I'm always ready." Ryan seemed more than eager to hit the bar.

  Jeremy turned to me. "Roll my bag into the suite for me?"

  "Sure. What time shall I meet you?"

  "We'll come back around six-thirty," Ryan said, as he headed for the door. Jeremy followed close behind him. "If you need anything, just call the front desk. Alan's covering the cost on everything."

  Ryan opened the door for Jeremy.

  "Thank you," I said.

  They left and the door shut and clicked behind them. I kicked off my shoes, then strolled into the bedroom. The large king-sized bed brought an instant smile to my face. Celebrating my freedom from Jeremy, I fell backward onto the fluffy mattress. Upon impact, my body sank into the soft middle. I closed my eyes and relaxed. The room felt cool, the bed comfy, and the silence sounded beautiful to my ears. Maybe this job wasn't going to be so bad after all.

  Chapter Ten

  The smell of sweat, burning rubber, and diesel fumes thickened the air. Engines hummed, and long semi-trucks boxed me in on both sides. My ribs ached and burned horribly. I crouched down near a truck's wheel and listened to the growls. They were getting closer, following my scent. I turned around. A large, brown werewolf with sharp teeth stared at me. I slowly rose. I took a step and it leapt for me.

  I jolted awake and flung my arms in front of my face to protect myself. Breathing heavy, I glanced around the quiet, empty room. I was alone in bed with no werewolf in sight. The dream I'd had seemed so real I could still smell the diesel fumes. My racing heart calmed as realization returned. Sweat coated the back of my neck and forehead. As I lowered my arms, I w
iped the moisture above my brow. What a horrible dream, I thought as I lay back down.

  The ceiling fan above circulated silently. It pushed a soft, cool breeze upon me while I watched the rotations. I rubbed my eyes and a big yawn escaped me. Surely, I hadn't dozed off for too long. A glance at the clock on the nightstand revealed the time was after 5:00 p.m. I'd slept over an hour.

  Remnants of the dream sprang into my mind again. A large, brown werewolf had attacked me at what appeared to be a truck stop. A premonition, perhaps? The last one I'd had was after I met Drake, and at the time, I'd thought of it as a wet dream rather than a premonition. Considering I was about to deal with a bunch of werewolves, I didn't want to find out too late if my dream was a forewarning or not.

  I needed to talk to someone. I needed someone to listen to me—someone who would understand me. I needed Drake.

  I dashed into the living room and spotted my purse on a chair. Drake might not like me bothering him again, but I had to tell him about my dream. I fished my phone from my purse, then dialed his number. After the third ring, his voicemail started. I sighed heavily and waited for the beep.

  "Drake, it's me. Can you please call me? I'm at the hotel in Phoenix, and I just had an odd dream. I think it might have been a premonition. Anyway, call me." I ended the call.

  Worrying about the vision would do no good. Besides, it could've just been my wild imagination. Maybe. Pondering about the dream wouldn't help either. I was alive and well, standing in a nice suite in Arizona. To kill time, I decided to unpack.

  Ten minutes passed without a return call. I wondered if he was in a meeting with the VETOV. Given the time difference between Arizona and Europe, I figured it would be nighttime where he was at. Nighttime was his busy time. I'd just have to wait to talk to him later. I finished unpacking my beauty supplies, then stepped into the shower.

  While I bathed, I thought about my relationship with Drake. During the little bit of time we'd spent together, we had loved each other passionately, worked through our small differences, and we both wanted to build a stronger relationship. But what did I expect from a vampire boyfriend? He was dead. I lived and breathed. What kind of life could I have with someone who wouldn't grow old, and with whom I couldn't have children? Maybe Dani was right—I should move on.

 

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