Long Shadows: The Lycanthropy Files, Book 2 Page 10

  Finally what had been bothering me came to the front of my brain. Where is the high chair? The baby toys? This house is too neat and sharp and pointy to have a toddler in it. I had better get the information I came for about my aunt, and fast.

  “So your mother knew my Aunt Alicia?” I asked Claire.

  She paled a couple of shades. I had referred to the conversation she’d had with the other woman, not with me. Whoops, too direct.

  “I’m sorry, I overheard you at the store.”

  She exchanged a glance with her husband, who shrugged as if to say, “Might as well.”

  “Yes,” she said. “They were on the original Forest Preservation Board together, but I don’t think they were close.”

  “I wasn’t very close with my aunt, either,” I said, “although I wish I had been.” I once again imagined throwing out the lines and trying to hook a conversational fish. “I guess it’s too late for that now, though.”

  “It’s hard to lose a loved one,” Claire said. “Did you know much about her and what she was doing up here? I understand your family’s not from Georgia originally.”

  “No, they’re from Italy by way of Boston, which is where my mother and aunt were raised. I grew up in Birmingham. But that’s the boring part.”

  “What’s the interesting part?” asked Ray.

  “That my aunt never married or anything. She and my mother were both attractive as young women. Did she ever date anyone up here?”

  Claire frowned. “There was one young man, another Italian, who came and stayed with her for a summer in the mid-eighties. I was still young, but it was the talk of the town how handsome he was. They said he was here as some sort of exchange program to intern for the FPB.”

  My heart started beating harder. “What was his name?”

  “John something-or-other,” she said. “If you’re really interested, the FPB has scrapbooks going back to the seventies, one for each year. Their office is downtown near City Hall.”

  “Thanks, I’ll check it out. The only other thing I really remember about my aunt is that she loved large dogs. I was kind of relieved not to inherit one.”

  “There were stories…” Claire said, but Ray put his hand on hers.

  “Who wants dessert?” he asked.

  “I’ll help,” Claire said. “Excuse me for a moment.”

  I took a big gulp of water. My heart thudded in my chest, and my hands tingled. What’s wrong with me? Then I recognized why the smell and sensations were so familiar—there was aconite in the meat. Venison itself had a strong flavor, and added with the rosemary and garlic, it had almost covered it. They’re trying to poison me. What the hell…

  I stood and moved as quietly as I could toward the kitchen.

  “It should be working right now,” Ray said. He spoke quietly, and it was hard to make out over the clanking of dishes. “I dosed her serving up pretty good.”

  “They said not to damage her brain,” Claire hissed. “What if you put too much in there?”

  “It was perfectly dosed for her height and weight, at least the estimates you gave me.”

  I remembered the hug in the parking lot. It wasn’t sincere at all—she was checking my waist size under my sweatshirt. Bitch.

  “And they’re sure she won’t change?”

  “They said she couldn’t. She’d blocked herself, and they gave her something to make sure she stayed that way.”

  The sensations of my muscles pulling back from my skin started, and I gritted my teeth. It would have been one thing if I’d been able to change right then—I was angry enough I could have ripped both their throats out, especially since I’d figured out there was no Daniel—but I was defenseless. Being trapped in a body unable to move wouldn’t help my escape.

  Damn you, whoever cut me off from my wolf self! The need to get away warred with wanting to find out who they were working for and who wanted me dead and apparently de-brained. The first desire won. In my current state, I wouldn’t be able to handle them both, and Claire was stronger than she looked judging from the squeeze she’d given me. That bitch must have known talking about my aunt would attract my attention, and I’d fallen oh-so-easily into her trap.

  “I’m going to check on her,” Claire said.

  I made it back to my seat and was swirling my wine when she came out of the kitchen. Time to play on their fears. If I bolt, they’ll catch me.

  “This is good,” I said, ignoring the strange yellow-green tint my vision had taken on. “Paired perfectly with the meat.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re looking a little pale.”

  “It’s just the fatigue of the week,” I assured her. “It’s been emotionally intense.”

  “Deaths in the family are always hard, especially when you have to make the arrangements by yourself.”

  I nodded. “I should really be going. Thanks for everything.”

  Ray appeared at the door to the kitchen, his expression anything but friendly. “You should stay for a bit,” he said. “You’re not looking well.”

  “Oh, I’m fine. I actually have someone to meet later, and I need to… change.” I bared my teeth a little on the last word before clamping my lips shut and capturing my top lip between my teeth. They glanced at each other.

  “Are you sure?” asked Claire, moving closer to Ray.

  “Yes, positive.” I swept my long hair off my shoulder with my right hand and curled my fingers to suggest the shape of a paw, then straightened and looked at them. “I really need to go.”

  Ray and Claire huddled in the kitchen door. He had his arms protectively around her. Upstairs a baby cried. The color really drained out of Claire’s face then.

  Huh, so there really is a kid.

  I hated to do it, but I turned slowly toward the sound, listened, and turned back to them, licking my lips. “I should really go,” I said again. “Thanks for everything. It was…” I glanced back toward the sound. “Delicious.”

  Ray started toward me, his hands out to snatch me, and I bared my teeth. Claire grabbed him back.

  “I really suggest you don’t threaten me,” I said. “I would like to remind you that I’m between you and your offspring, and I can move faster than you can.” I licked my lips again and thought Wolf-Lonna scrabbled in my brain.

  The tingling had spread to my legs, so it wasn’t hard to move backwards slowly and menacingly. The front door was to my right just outside of the dining room.

  “She’s going to get away,” Ray snarled.

  Claire kept her firm hold on him. “The baby. She might change and eat him.”

  “She can’t change! They told us she can’t.”

  “She’s acting like she can. They said she’s one of a kind.”

  I threw the door open and stumbled out into the night, down the driveway, and into my car. I didn’t look back to see who’d won the argument and if someone had followed me until I made it out to the main road. My stomach heaved, and I steered the car into a pull-off and opened the door to, well, get rid of the undigested aconite and venison, which I’d decided I didn’t like so much after all.

  My heart beat in my throat with each car that drove by, and after panting in the seat for a few minutes, the aconite sensations subsided. The inside of the car and other objects no longer had the yellow-green tint when I looked at them, and the tingling and heart racing resolved. Here’s to building up a tolerance to the stuff. But what if they had used something else? I’d be very dead.

  Aware my body’s reflexes may not be what they should be, I drove below the speed limit. Occasionally headlights appeared in the rearview mirror, but none stayed behind me for long until I got to the ridge where my aunt’s house was. A car pulled out of a driveway, and I couldn’t tell much about it due to the lack of street lights, but it stayed behind me turn for turn.

  Someone was waiting. They knew I’d run back here. That was dumb. Oh shit, oh shit… Nerves dried my mouth out even more than the aconite after-effects, and my mind w
ouldn’t work properly. Run home, run home, run home!

  What kind of security system does my aunt have? Will it be enough to stop someone who really wants to get in? What about magical defenses?

  Magical defenses? Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t know a magical defense if it bit me in the ass. And, of course, my gun is in my bedroom, not in my car.

  I decided to make a run for it. I parked the car as close to the house as I could, snatched my keys out of the ignition, opened the door, and promptly fell to my knees because my legs gave out. Apparently adrenaline had kept the aconite effects at bay, but now I was somewhere safe, the numbness and tingling returned.

  The other car pulled up right behind mine. The door opened, and the beam of a flashlight landed on me. I held a hand over my face, but it didn’t help me identify who it was. All I could see was a leather-gloved hand reaching for me. I jerked back, my head hit the side of the car, and grey flowers bloomed across my vision before everything went black.

  The nightmare returned.

  I’m strapped to a gurney in a cave, and there’s a needle in my arm. The plastic tube connects it to a bag hanging overhead. I can’t move. A man, his eyes hidden behind smoky glasses, his face behind a medical mask, measures something from a small red vial into another syringe and injects it into a port in the tube. The red liquid snakes down the tube, and all I can do is watch, wide-eyed, as it hurtles toward my arm. It feels like a bite that spreads through my veins to my muscles and bones, every nerve burning and twitching, like the entire web is alive and its own entity trying to form me into something I’m not. It squeezes and pulls and pushes my body in directions it’s not supposed to go, and through it all, I scream and scream and scream…

  Chapter Eleven

  I awoke with a whimper to the feeling of being tied down and a needle in my arm. Not again! I pulled at my bonds and tried to dislodge the needle, but whoever had done it to me knew what they were doing, and I could barely move a centimeter. With every bit of mental effort I could muster, I evened out my breathing and opened my eyes a slit to see where I was and who was with me. The familiar surroundings—my bedroom at my aunt’s house—calmed me slightly, although I did wish I could change or at least spirit-walk to punish whoever invaded my personal and family space to do this to me.

  The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs made me close my eyes, all other senses on alert. It was a man, and he smelled of fuchsia and tea.

  Tea?

  “You can open your eyes, Lonna, I know you’re awake.”

  My eyes snapped open, and I glared at Max, who wore a white lab coat and stood in my door holding a steaming cup of tea. The little red English Breakfast tag hung over the side. I focused on that impossibly normal detail to keep the panic from rising.

  “My file says this is your favorite,” he said. “But I don’t know how strong you like it or how you take it.”

  “Fuck the tea, Max.” His wince gave me a little jolt of satisfaction. “I’m lying tied to my bed with a needle in my arm.”

  “Right,” he said, “how rude of me.”

  He put the tea down on the bedside table and pulled a gauze pad out of the white box beside it. He removed the needle from my arm with swift, expert motion, and he loosened the cuffs that immobilized my wrists and ankles so I could move freely.

  I pulled my right hand from its cuff and slapped him. Then I picked up the tea cup and held it tilted slightly forward.

  “What was that for?” He held a hand to his cheek and moved backward.

  “For tying me up,” I said. “And if you get any closer, I’m going to slosh this burning hot tea in your face.”

  “It was necessary. You had been poisoned. I needed to flush it from your system, and you were thrashing about.”

  “What the hell? It was aconite. I’ve got a good tolerance for it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Right, the tolerance you built from your spirit-walking kept you alive. You missed the sedative. With the combination, you wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”

  I wrapped my fingers, which had suddenly gone cold, around the mug. “So you saved me again. How did you know? And are you…you?”

  He smiled. “After I was kicked out of your kitchen yesterday, I alerted my superiors, and they chartered a plane and got me here. In the nick of time, apparently. So yes, I’m me. May I?” He gestured to the bed.

  “Sure.” I scooted over. My mind danced around his words and found the truth in them. I’d gotten myself out of the situation, but I was lucky he’d arrived when he did. I’d focused too much on the aconite and missed the other substance, which must have been in the wine.

  He sat beside me, and, leaning close, unbuttoned my blouse, revealing the tops of my breasts, which rose and fell faster under his gaze. With a smile, he took a stethoscope from his pocket. I narrowed my eyes, and his grin widened. He listened to my heart and lungs, and then he checked my eyes and throat with a light, his strong fingers a caress on my jaw. When he stood, I shivered from the sudden cold and distance.

  I covered up with my usual sarcasm. “Guess this means I don’t need to see you this week.”

  He shrugged. “I suppose not, although we do need to discuss your blood work at some point.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Can’t I have breakfast first? By the way, you suck at medical flirting. No follow-through.”

  His shoulders slumped. “It may surprise you to find that I would love to carry things further, but I’m familiar with the after-effects aconite has on you. I don’t want to take advantage of any impulses that may cloud your judgment.”

  I blushed and re-buttoned my shirt. “I’m a grownup, Max. I can make my own decisions.”

  “Yes, but that would be taking advantage of you and violating my professional principles.”

  “What principles? You know an awful lot about me, Doctor Fortuna, and I hardly know a thing about you.” My stomach growled.

  “Well, one thing I’m comfortable revealing to you is that I make a spectacular omelet. Get cleaned up, and I’ll have breakfast ready for you.”

  “Fricking professional principles,” I muttered, but I did as he suggested. I made the shower a lukewarm one. I’ve never been able to stand cold, but this morning, I was tempted.

  When I got out of the shower, there was no sign of the leather cuffs or the medical paraphernalia Max had set up in my bedroom. I blinked, dizzy and wondering if he had been a dream as well. But the mug of now cold tea, the red tag hanging sadly over the side, was a sign it all had been real. The effect he had on me certainly wasn’t my imagination—or maybe that was the aconite, as he’d suggested. Funny, I’d always thought the change and accessing my animal side led to increased sex drive the following day. Maybe it’s both.

  When I got to the landing, the smells of eggs, ham, onion, green pepper, and cheddar cheese reached me. And coffee, blessed coffee. My stomach really gurgled then, and I hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen.

  Max stood at the stove. He’d traded his white coat—which hung on the back of one chair—for an apron. I took the coat into the hallway and put it on a hook.

  “I’m not worried about getting something on it,” he said. “That was more for your protection this morning.” He didn’t say them, but the words professional distance came to mind.

  “After my cave experience, I can’t see lab coats without feeling nervous. Hence my high blood pressure reading at your office last week.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything about that, just wait and see what it was when you came back in.”

  “Thanks. Where’d you get the food?”

  “Support staff.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Now I really want to know what you do. I’d love a job where someone would go grocery shopping for me, especially after how yesterday’s trip ended up.”

  He halved the omelet and put it on to two plates along with some whole wheat toast.

  “Wow, that’s a light-colored omelet.”

  “Egg whites,”
he said. “And the cheese and ham in it are reduced fat.”

  I poured some coffee and added cream and sugar. “Is this all going back to the blood work you mentioned?”

  “Your cholesterol is high, especially for someone your age.”

  I shrugged. “You only live once.”

  “Right. So you should live carefully so you live longer.”

  “Look, Max, I appreciate what you’re telling me, but we’re going to have to define some roles here.” I sat and gestured for him to join me at the table, which he did with the two breakfast plates.

  He eyed me warily. “How so?”

  “Well, you say you can’t have any kind of relationship with me due to your job.”

  “Not any kind of relationship, just not a romantic one.”

  “Okay, not a romantic one, which I get because we’re prohibited from dual relationships in mental health as well. But you need to figure out whether you’re going to be my doctor or my watcher-protector, or whatever your real job is.” I took a bite of the omelet and couldn’t help but notice how the eggs, cheese, and other ingredients balanced each other out perfectly.

  “Protecting your health does fall under my orders,” he said with the assurance of a man who knows his logic is unassailable. “Sometimes we are our own worst enemies.”

  I stuck my fork tines-down in my breakfast so I wouldn’t spear his hand, which was on the table. He noticed and moved his hand to his lap. Smart man. Let’s see how smart you really are.

  “If you’re going to get all condescending and micromanaging with me, you may as well leave.”

  He scoffed. Yes, he really scoffed. Until then, I’d thought scoffing was something people only did in books.

  “I could leave, but what would that accomplish? I’d check in on you and find you kidnapped, dead, or worse.”

  “What’s worse than… Oh, right the wolf monk things.” I shook my head. “That’s not the point. I’m not your patient. I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not even your friend at this point.”