by DM Fike
“Never. It’s written in my DNA somewhere.”
Vincent crouched forward to gather up the dirty paper bowls. “Good thing your lightning’s more powerful than Darby’s dirt.”
“Actually, lightning doesn’t affect dirt much.”
He shot me a confident grin. “You won the last fight. I’m sure you’re up for the rematch.”
I laughed, shoving soiled napkins into the old bag and following him to the trash can. As he threw away the cups, I realized just how lucky I was. Growing up, I’d always wanted a close friend, someone I could tell anything to. I had hung out casually with a lot of people, but never had a bestie.
It warmed me to realize I had one now.
“You’re a good listener,” I blurted out as if it was some kind of divine revelation. Oh boy. Smooth, Ina.
Vincent kept his foot on the trash can pedal. “Even though all men are pigs, and I’m doubly so as a cop.”
“Not all men are pigs,” I said, leaning close to him so I could deposit the bag. “And certainly not you.”
“That’s not what you said right before the cockatrice nearly killed us.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t know you as well back then.”
As I rose back to my full height, my arm accidentally brushed his. Where we touched, it felt like my skin had grown twice as many nerve endings. He released the pedal but did not move away from me. Our faces were mere inches from each other.
Vincent stared at my lips. “Do you know me better now?”
“Yeah,” I breathed.
A wild spark lit his eyes. “Prove it.”
We leaned toward each other.
Something rattled abruptly behind me. A bright ray of afternoon sunshine cut through Vincent’s living room, hitting us both like a searchlight.
“Yo, Vincent!” a cheerful masculine voice called into the room. “I’m here to fix your sink!”
I’ve never seen a guy change moods so quickly. One minute, Vincent had me completely enthralled with his smolder, the next he created so much space between us you would have thought we’d been caught spray painting a freight train. Bewildered, I wondered if he just wasn’t into public displays of affection.
But then again, he’d seemed just fine at the gingerbread restaurant angling for a second kiss despite Fechin’s disruption.
“Oscar,” Vincent said between his teeth. “You really need to learn how to knock.”
Oscar stepped out of the glaring sun, so I could look at him without squinting. He wore a dark toolbelt strapped over jeans and a layman’s work shirt. His cheerful round face with black-framed glasses and padded stomach made him look like a guy you might want to down a beer with. Perhaps not quite thirty years old, he was shorter and less muscular than Vincent, but I could see similarities in their body structure, ebony hair, and dark eyes. They were obviously related somehow.
“Sorry, man. How was I supposed to know? You never have company.” Oscar cocked his head at me, a question forming on his face. “And definitely none as pretty as this.”
Vincent waved in exasperation. “Ina, this is my cousin Oscar. He’s a licensed plumber.”
Vincent had only mentioned one cousin to me before, after dragging me out of the sand dunes, unconscious. He’d taken me to that cousin’s empty house to heal. I blurted out without thinking, “You mean the one with the hot tub?”
Oscar raised an eyebrow. “How do you know I have a hot tub?”
Silence blossomed between the three of us. Vincent glanced down at the industrial carpet, probably wanting to sink through it. A crow cawed somewhere outside the still open door. For the first time ever, I wished it was Fechin come to drag me away.
I don’t function well with awkward silence. I always try to fill it up with words. “It wasn’t a big deal. We just borrowed it one time. Vincent was just trying to…” I couldn’t say ‘heal’ without sounding like a lunatic. “…to get me to relax after a really stressful day.”
A knowing smile spread over Oscar’s amused cheeks. “I see.”
“It’s not like that, Oscar,” Vincent said, pointing at me. “We’re just friends.”
I couldn’t help but flinch at that. Just friends? I folded my arms tight over my chest. “Oh really?”
Vincent’s whole body went limber in exasperation. “But we might be more. I want to be more.”
“You’re doing a great job getting there,” his cousin pointed out helpfully.
Vincent crossed the distance and grabbed him by the crook of his arm. “Can we talk?”
I couldn’t believe Vincent’s nerve. “Are you seriously going to have a secret conversation with me just standing here?”
Vincent glared at me. “You want to hear this? Fine.” He shot his highly amused cousin a pleading look. “Don’t let this get around to Mom, okay?”
I wanted to grab my lightning charm and zap the insensitive jerk right then and there. “You’re trying to keep me a secret from your own mother? Are you ashamed of me or something?”
“No.” Vincent threw his hands heavenward, perhaps looking for divine intervention to save him from the inescapable hole he’d just dug for himself. “It’s just that…our family…it’s…”
“What my blabbering cousin is trying to say,” Oscar cut in smoothly, “is that his mother is the most stubborn woman on the planet. She’s not going to like you.”
“Why not?”
Oscar kept his debonair charm as he slashed right to my heart. “Because you’re not his ex.”
A second awkward silence bloomed.
Vincent rubbed his temples. “Oscar, will you please just go check out my sink and stop ruining my life?”
“Sure thing!” He said, bouncing past us into the kitchen.
Somehow in my cloud of confusion and hurt, Vincent managed to sit me down on his futon in the living room. “I’m so, so sorry, Ina,” he whispered over the din of Oscar clanging around. “This is not how I wanted to broach this subject.”
“You mean the subject of your mother hating me sight unseen?”
He sighed. “I told you before that Christy’s family and mine are really close. It’s part of the reason we spent so much time together as teenagers. Both families encouraged it. My mom and Christy’s mom are more sisters than friends. They had always hoped we would get married, and when I broke it off, it nearly broke my mom’s heart. She keeps hoping I’ll come to my senses and we’ll get back together.”
I sank back at an odd angle into the futon. “I’m going to be the homewrecker in her eyes, aren’t I?” I wanted so badly for Vincent to refute it.
Vincent supported his elbows on his knees. “Yeah.”
My heart sunk. “Well then maybe we shouldn’t date.”
“You can’t be serious.” Vincent’s voice rose, apparently no longer caring if Oscar heard. “You’re not dumping me because of my mom, are you?”
“I don’t want to be your dirty little secret.”
Vincent opened his mouth to argue when his cell phone suddenly went off. He pulled it from his pocket and cursed. “I can’t believe this. I have to take this. Don’t you dare go anywhere.”
He stalked out the front door and shut it. I could hear him talking on the other side. The jerk knew me too well. I’d have shot outside faster than you can say, “Mommy issues,” if he hadn’t covered the only exit.
I sat there for a couple seconds before springing up to my feet. I wasn’t going to let Vincent stop me from getting to know his family. He wouldn’t be able to keep me a secret. I stalked into the kitchen, where the bottom half of Oscar stretched out on his back, right knee bent at an angle.
“How much of that did you hear?” I asked him loudly.
Oscar adjusted his flashlight so it seared my eyes. “All of it.”
“And what’s your take?”
Oscar shrugged. “We’re a big, nosey family. If you get involved with Vincent, it’s part of the package.”
“Even though he made everyone mad by becoming a
cop?”
Oscar extracted himself completely from the cabinet. “You gotta understand, some of us are first generation American. Vincent and I were born here, but our parents live in fear that some of us will get hauled away by immigration at a moment’s notice.”
The more he explained, the more serious Oscar became. Sympathy washed over my anger. “But Vincent’s a game warden. He doesn’t deal with border issues.”
“He’s got a badge. That’s all the older generations care about.”
“And you?”
Oscar smirked. “I see a guy who really wants to date a pretty girl. And knowing Vincent, he’s not going to let a little thing like his mom stand in the way of that.”
He had a point. If Vincent really let his mom dictate his life choices, we never would have met in the first place. “You think I should give him a chance?”
“I hope so, but that’s up to you. Much as he grumbles about his mom, he’s definitely as stubborn as she is.”
“Give me an example.”
“Well, he doesn’t believe in magic, despite all evidence to the contrary.”
Saliva that had been hanging in my throat suddenly went down the wrong way. I coughed twice before replying, “You don’t say.”
“He grew up in a magical family, for crying out loud.” Oscar reached one hand back into the cabinet. “Take these PVC pipes here. Notice I haven’t used any tools to diagnose the leak? That’s because I can sense the leak without them.”
“How?”
“I can sense the water flow stopping.”
“Oh really?” That seeded a strange thought in my head. I didn’t believe for a second that this smooth-talking plumber could actually sense a blockage via water pith, but I bet someone with ken could do it.
Curious, I leaned forward. “Can I try?”
“Uh, sure.” He scooted over so I could shove my shoulders into the narrow space.
Oscar took the flashlight with him, so I couldn’t see much with my body blocking the kitchen light. I didn’t need vision though. I ran my hands over the white pipes, at first unable to feel anything. Shepherds can’t manipulate plastic. But as I focused my senses through that barrier, I could feel a familiar flowing rush. Water. It came about a third of the way into the pipe, then suddenly stopped.
I pulled myself out. “The blockage is about two inches away from where the pipe emerges from the wall in the back,” I proclaimed before I realized I wasn’t talking to one person, but two.
Vincent frowned down at me. “You having fun down there?”
“Oodles.” I flashed him my teeth as I stood up. Oscar gave me a funny look as Vincent pulled me away.
“I’m getting called on duty,” he said, his voice full of regret. “There’s been another mass deer poaching. We’re stretched so thin with budget cuts this year, I’m the only one available who can check it out.”
I glanced over my shoulder, but found Oscar had already stuck his head back under the sink. “Great,” I whispered so only Vincent could hear. “I’ll go with you.”
Vincent balked. “This is official game warden business. You shouldn’t come with me.”
“If you don’t take me along, I’ll trail you anyway.” I didn’t give him time to argue as I yelled loudly for Oscar’s benefit. “I probably should get going too!”
Vincent narrowed his eyes. “Ina…”
“Good-bye, Oscar!” I called, heading for the door. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Nice meeting you too!” he returned, his voice somewhat muffled but still clear enough to hear his parting shot. “Hope Vincent doesn’t screw things up with you!”
CHAPTER 13
VINCENT MAINTAINED HIS official scary police face as I jogged down the apartment steps to his Subaru. After he used his key fob to unlock the doors, I thrust myself inside before he could lock me out. He grumbled unhappily as he buckled himself in, and we rode out onto the coastal highway.
“So, where are we going?” I asked in as bright a voice as I could muster.
“Near Linslaw Park.” Vincent threw me a sideways glare. “And I thought you had your hands full trying to find your fox friend and not lose all your magical powers.”
The area was located halfway back to Sipho’s. “We’re heading in the right direction. I’ll bow out if things drag on too long. Besides, we need to talk.”
Vincent’s grip tightened on the wheel. “I can’t change my mom.”
“But you can decide how to act around her. It sounds like you don’t want us to meet.”
“I don’t. She’s always been a little kooky, and I don’t want that to interfere with what we have going on.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “And what exactly is that? A forbidden fling before you get back together with Christy?”
“It’s not like that!” Vincent’s teeth ground so hard together, I was amazed they didn’t shatter. “You know that!”
I did know that. I just didn’t feel like conceding it just then. “Then why do you care if your mom finds out about us?”
He took a few calming breaths. “You and I are just starting to get comfortable with each other. I want to give us a little chance before my crazy family intervenes.”
“What about Oscar? Won’t he say something?”
“He’ll keep it under wraps. He’s a good guy.”
I paused, reviewing my conversation with Oscar. “He did say he hoped I’d give you a chance.”
Vincent waved a hand in triumph. “There you go then. Listen to Oscar.”
A sarcastic smile tugged on one corner of my mouth. “Oscar also believes in magic.”
Vincent rolled his eyes. “Of course he does.”
“I can’t believe you’re dismissing your cousin when you know for a fact magic is real.” To prove my point, I drew a small S, and a gust of wind tousled Vincent’s air.
But Vincent didn’t let my little show get in the way of his opinion. “What Oscar believes is not the same as what you do. Oscar may be one of the least crazy ones in my family, but that’s not saying much. He’s still all about haunted houses, tarot cards, and predetermined destiny. You think that’s real too?”
I shrugged. “My concept of what’s believable is an ever-widening field.”
Vincent opened his mouth to argue, but his shoulder slumped. “Ina, please trust me on this. I have a very complicated relationship with my mom. Given your own family, you have to understand that.”
My face reddened, thinking of my overbearing mother. “Oh no. You’re not bringing them into this.”
“Are you saying you want us to spend time with your mom?”
“Hell no.” It would be laughable to answer any other way. She’d smother Vincent to death.
“Then please try to understand why I want to keep you to myself for a while longer.”
He had a point, much as I hated to admit it. And it wasn’t just his logic, but the vulnerability in his tone. I could rail against anger all day long, but desperation tugged at my heart strings.
“Okay,” I said.
Vincent must not have expected my response because he kept right on going as if I hadn’t agreed to his demands. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I really do. It’s because I like you that—”
I reached over to place my finger on Vincent’s lips to get him to shut up. “It’s fine.”
His eyes widened. “It is?”
I withdrew back into my seat. “For now.”
Vincent tried to both look at me and the road at the same time. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, but if we get serious, and you keep me a secret, you better believe I’m going to reveal myself so spectacularly, you’re going to wish you’d’ve told them yourself.”
Vincent finally relaxed. “I can live with that.”
By that time, we’d reached the outskirts of town, heading east. We lapsed into silence, unsure of what to say. I took note of Vincent’s casual clothes, searching for any other topic of conversation. “Don’t you need your
uniform? Or the cruiser?”
“I’m just going to report on the scene. What I have is enough.” He leaned over to intertwine my fingers with his. “You’re enough. Thank you.”
I squeezed his hand back, this time understanding that the silence represented his appreciation and not any lingering doubt on his part.
* * *
It took a half hour to reach Linslaw Park. During the trip, a sense of unease flowed through me. I got a heaping dose of déjà vu but couldn’t pinpoint why that would be.
Vincent tried to prepare me for what we’d see. “If it’s anything like the last site, there will easily be a half dozen or more dead black-tailed deer.”
I clenched my fist in my lap. “Why kill so many?”
“I don’t know.” Vincent’s face hardened. “It’s bad enough they’re hunting off-season, but to slaughter so many just for sport and leave their carcasses behind is beyond cruel.”
“Is this kind of mass poaching common?”
“No. That’s part of the mystery of this case. Hunting an animal takes a lot more effort than most people realize.” Vincent turned on his blinker as the sign for the park loomed. “It has to be the work of a bunch of poachers to kill so many animals at once in such a short time frame. And why do it and leave their bodies behind?”
We drove off the highway onto the gravel road leading into the forest. The park itself didn’t contain much in terms of amenities, especially on the south side away from the boat ramp. The Subaru bumped along beside dense brush, some scraping the undercarriage of the vehicle.
We parked the car at a wide turnout. Vincent checked his phone for the location of the carcasses, then motioned me to a break in the trees, next to a dilapidated sign with the words no longer legible. An overgrown hiking trail offered scores of knee-high weeds.
“The deer are down this old path a ways.”
The brush quickly overtook any semblance of a trail as we pushed forward. “Wow. Who called this in? Bigfoot?”
Up in the lead, Vincent turned his head so I could hear him better as we trudged up an incline. “Don’t know. Anonymous tip. Pretty typical for this kind of thing.”
“Yeah, but this guy hiked deep in the backwoods. Most people don’t go off the trails this far.”