Long Shadows: The Lycanthropy Files, Book 2 Page 28

  “We’ve got to find a grocery store,” I remarked to Lonna after we gave the hostess my name and the other diners in the restaurant—all six of them—looked up with curiosity. After Robert had dumped me, I’d wished to be more noticeable. The notoriety had now worn thin, and part of me wished I could just go back to my apartment in Memphis, crawl in bed and wake up to find all of it from the fire onward had been a bad dream.

  The hostess reappeared with menus and a smile and seated us in a booth near the front of the restaurant. No sooner had we opened the menus than a young man appeared. His name tag said, “Ted, Manager”.

  “Welcome to Tabitha’s, Miz Fisher,” he told me.

  “Doctor Fisher, actually,” Lonna broke in. I kicked her under the table.

  The young man wasn’t fazed. “Doctor Fisher and Miss…”

  “Marconi, Lonna Marconi.”

  “A friend,” I explained.

  “Of course.” He winked. “I just wanted to come over and say hello and I hope we’ll be seeing much more of you. Please accept this complimentary appetizer.”

  Another waiter placed a plate of stuffed mushrooms and two little plates on the table along with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

  “Your grandfather appeared in town only rarely, but these were his favorites.”

  “And how much is the wine?” asked Lonna.

  I cringed. I didn’t want any more attention, and Lonna’s directness was getting plenty of stares.

  “Compliments of an admirer.” The corner of Ted’s mouth twitched as he opened the wine, a red blend from California. It occurred me he thought Lonna and I were partners. “I’ll give you ladies a moment to look over the menu and be back to take your order.”

  “An admirer?” I asked as soon as Ted was out of earshot. “Must be for you.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself, Joanie.” Lonna sipped her wine. “It’s very good by the way, very smooth.”

  I lifted a couple of mushrooms to my plate. They smelled of some sharp, salty cheese—gruyere, I thought—a savory blend of herbs, and fresh sourdough breadcrumbs. The tops were perfectly browned, and when I cut one in half, real lump crabmeat that smelled sweet instead of fishy spilled out. While buttery, it was by no means greasy, and the mushrooms themselves were cooked to the perfect texture.

  “They certainly know how to do food here.” I thought back to the breakfast we’d had at the diner. I considered myself a pretty discriminating eater, and it was rare for me to have two meals in a day that bowled me over.

  Lonna nodded, her mouth full. I studied her as I blew on a bite of mushroom. While she and Kyra Ellison may be similar in build and coloring, Lonna had a certain genuineness. I thought it made her much more attractive than the arrogant Kyra.

  As I snagged another mushroom, I admitted I was torturing myself by comparing the two women. I would never be as tall, attractive or curvy as either. No one would give me a second glance if they saw me next to either of them. And as much as the thought of a secret admirer thrilled me, I had to admit it was probably Lonna who had one. Either that, or someone decided my grandfather’s fortune made me that much more attractive.

  “Two cents for your thoughts?” Lonna grinned at me. She resembled a vampire with the red wine on her lips and teeth.

  “I thought it was just a penny?”

  She waved her hand. “Inflation.”

  “They’re PhD thoughts. They should be worth at least a dime.”

  “You’re evading the question.”

  “Lucky in life, unlucky in love?”

  “Yeah, that seemed like a self-pity look.” She leaned forward. “You’ve had a hard day. Hard month, actually.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  Lonna reached over to cover my hand with hers. “You’re not in it alone.”

  At that moment, Ted reappeared with an “Aha, I thought so!” smirk. Lonna leaned back, and laughter danced in her eyes with the candlelight. As she gave her order, I glanced over the menu and picked out the first thing that sounded good: blue-cheese-stuffed beef tenderloin with port wine and mushroom sauce. It came with a salad and rolls, and my stomach growled in appreciation when my eyes landed on the dessert selection.

  “Doctor Fisher?” he asked.

  “She must have seen something chocolate.”

  “I’ll have the tenderloin, house salad with balsamic vinaigrette, and mashed potatoes for the side.”

  “Very good. I’ll get these in and check on you in a little bit.”

  “He’s cute.” Lonna followed him with her eyes. “I’m a sucker for a guy with dark hair and a dimple.”

  “I don’t think he considers us eligible.”

  “Yeah, I caught that look.” She arched an eyebrow. “You know, that may actually work to our advantage.”

  “No way.”

  “Hmmm, you’re right.” I could almost see the wheels turning as she went through the possible ramifications. “As conservative as these little towns can be, you don’t want to give the locals any reason to dislike you.”

  “Not any more than they already do.”

  “I doubt it. They’re just curious. Have you gotten any hostility?”

  “Only from the Bowman brothers. And by the way, Peter Bowman is a creep.” I filled Lonna in on the almost-conversation I’d had with Louise about the kitchen. I lowered my voice. “And then he basically said he’d out you as a P.I. if you didn’t go by to see him tomorrow.”

  She pursed her lips. “It may be a good idea. I’m sure he has a different perspective on the child disappearances.”

  “It sounds like he wants to get a different perspective on you. Like with your clothes off.”

  “Possibly.”

  “Now you’re being evasive.”

  She shrugged. “You know me. Jerks are my type.”

  “And married men were mine, but I’ve sworn them off.”

  “Probably a good thing. Wives’ll have you killed if you’re not careful.”

  “Stick to the cute waiter.” I looked over at Ted, who opened a bottle of wine at another table.

  “I don’t think he’d find me eligible from either his or my perspective.”

  “You never know. We’re probably totally confusing his gay-dar right now.”

  “Oh, he’ll know. They always do.”

  Our food, carried by Ted himself as well as a regular waiter, arrived, and we didn’t speak for a few minutes.

  “How is yours?” I asked.

  “Excellent. I’m jealous.”

  “Of what?”

  “That you get to live up here among the rich and culinarily spoiled. And you get a kick-ass kitchen. All you need is a butler and you’re all set.”

  “‘Culinarily?’” I laughed. “Is that a word?”

  “It is now.”

  Before I could reply, the door opened and let in a draught of cool air. I shivered and turned to see Kyra Ellison and Leonard Bowman.

  “Isn’t that Peter’s brother?” Lonna asked as she craned her neck to follow their progress to the bar. Leonard’s eyes scanned the room. Kyra frowned, almost pouted.

  “Yep, that’s Leonard.”

  “Who’s the sulky woman?”

  “Her name is Kyra Ellison. She’s the one I told you about.”

  “She certainly looks like a snob.” Lonna studied her with narrowed eyes, then tossed her hair. Threat dismissed. I wished I felt the same.

  The couple took seats at the bar, and Leonard held up two fingers. I don’t know if it was the lighting, but I hadn’t noticed before how slender and graceful his hands were. I pictured him running them through his thick, dark hair while thinking or gripping a steering wheel as he maneuvered winding mountain roads in his rugged four-wheel drive, or running them over my—

  Stop it, I told myself. The last thing I needed was to become attracted to another attached man. And Kyra Ellison had definitely attached herself to Leonard.

  “I know that look,” Lonna murmured. She held up her w
ineglass. “Here’s to the Bowman men, unattainable yet irresistible.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I grumbled but clinked her glass with mine anyway.

  “How about some chocolate? It’ll cure a broken heart.”

  “Two nights in a row?”

  “Is that what you tell your lovers?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Depends on the lover.”

  “Touché.”

  Ted came over and took our dessert and coffee orders. I ordered a Chocolate Insanity, which proved to be a chocolate mousse filling in a cookie crust. Lonna opted for crème brulée.

  I had deliberately averted my eyes from the bar, so when I glanced up after dessert, I was surprised to see Leonard and Kyra still there. Whatever disagreement they’d had seemed to have been resolved, and they laughed as he tucked a stray ebony curl behind her ear. I tried to ignore the finger of pain that poked my heart. Robert had loved to do just that as we talked over after-dinner drinks. On the nights his wife had been out of town. I envied Leonard and Kyra their freedom. They looked like lovers who didn’t care that others knew they were together.

  Ted’s voice startled me out of my observations. “Your check has been taken care of.”

  “By whom?” I asked.

  “Your admirer.”

  “My admirer?” He was definitely looking at me.

  “He said to tell you he hoped you enjoyed your dinner.”

  “Wow,” Lonna said. “I wonder who it could be.”

  As we left, I glanced toward the bar. For an instant Leonard’s eyes flicked our way, and when they met mine, my heart skipped a beat. I wondered if that’s what it felt like to be enchanted. It only lasted the moment it took to walk out of Tabitha’s and into the cool night air.

  “Where to now?” I asked.

  “I guess we should stop avoiding it. We have to go back to your grandfather’s house sometime.”

  “I know.” I sighed and wished we had explored the place during daylight. Who knew what might lurk there after dark?

  There’s nothing more deceptive than the truth…

  Playing Against Type

  © 2014 Heather Long

  Soulgirls, Book 4

  Pepper Kirk lives for the moment. Diagnosed with an incurable disease, she set out to see the world and found a place—and remission—at the Arcana Royale. For once, life is perfect. Until a federal agent appears, determined to catch the casino in corruption.

  Owing her very existence to the magic that sustains her—Pepper reluctantly agrees to seduce the handsome agent and sabotage his surveillance, though she’s not sure how a woman without a dishonest bone in her body will make it work.

  Finn Mickelson’s investigation into a crime family is only a smokescreen to keep his real targets off balance. Nothing will keep this witchborn from digging into the secrets of the Royale—not even a Southern belle with honeyed tones and a sweet smile.

  He quickly sees through her ruse, yet he finds himself falling under the spell of her porcelain doll beauty, even wanting to help her. But for love to take hold, they’ll have to play the house in a game that’s stacked against them…or lose their lives.

  Warning: Contains lies, deceptions, twists, turns, behind-the-scenes plotting, a man with a revengenda, a southern belle who just wants to live her life—and a game they didn’t know they were playing.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Playing Against Type:

  Heidi glanced up from the paperwork spread across her desk, a frisson of awareness skating up her spine. Eyes narrowing, she stared at the door. It was the middle of the day and all of the dancers slept in their frozen states, silent and secure. No one moved in the theatre, not even Stan. Minion slept along the back of her shoulders, tufted ears folded close to her head and the imp’s fuzzy kitten-like face buried in Heidi’s hair. Flipping the folder closed, she waited.

  The handle turned silently and the door swung inwards. A tall man with black hair leaned against the doorframe. The flirty smile on his lips didn’t quite touch his devastating blue eyes. “Miss Heidi.”

  “Connor.” The shadow man’s arrival didn’t bode well. He rarely ventured into the Midnight Mystery Lounge unless something was wrong. Sadly, she’d already had to deal with him twice in as many months over issues with two of her dancers. As far as she knew, however, no one else should have earned this kind of personal attention.

  “You don’t look very happy to see me. I’m wounded.” He grinned and strolled into her office. His gaze swept over the contents of the room, from the books lining the walls to the stack of puzzle boxes decorating a shelf. Despite his apparent interest in the surroundings, she knew it was a ruse. He would detect even the faintest trace of weakness in her.

  Fortunately, she’d overcome her weakness for him years before.

  She closed the folder. “I’m busy, Connor. What do you need?” She added the folder to another stack and dragged a new one toward her. She didn’t bother to read the words, looking at the information inside was enough to piss him off.

  He dropped into a chair opposite her desk and swung his booted feet up to rest against the polished wood, one ankle over the other. “Some days I think you forget who is in charge.”

  “Some days I think you forget who kicked your ass.” She lifted an absent hand up to brush against Minion’s downy soft head and kept the little one asleep.

  Warm masculine laughter spilled from his throat, an invitation for sex that would have drowned an unprotected woman in a sea of lust. “I never forget why I like you.”

  “Well that makes one of us. What do you want, Connor?” It was the second time she’d asked. If he forced a third, she would have to remind him that despite his position, she ruled this theatre.

  The Midnight Mystery Lounge belonged to her, and it didn’t matter that it sat nestled in the heart of the Arcana Royale. She owned it through her blood, sweat and tears. Everything and everyone in it was under her protection. She fought for those contracts, held them tight in her fists, and wouldn’t allow the Overseers any more influence than they were due. Yes, they had some lease on the girls’ souls, but she had everything else. She hoarded that control and the ability to negotiate their freedom when the right circumstances presented themselves.

  “Fine. Business it is, then.” Disappointment flickered across his face, too quick for her to grasp what had upset him. She ignored the tug of curiosity. Better to avoid traveling that path again. “We have an issue that needs your delicate touch.”

  My delicate touch? Circumstances must be dire indeed if he issued his invitation in such flattering terms. “I’m listening.”

  Connor pulled his legs back and leaned forward. His intense gaze locked on hers and urged her cooperation. The compulsion eddied over the surface of her skin, but couldn’t quite penetrate her shields. It wasn’t on purpose, his power came from deep within and he wore it like others would a finely cut suit—natural and effortless.

  “An FBI agent checked into the Royale this morning. His name is Finn Mikelson.” He paused, as though waiting for her to acknowledge the name.

  The name meant nothing to her, however. “And I care because…?”

  “Because he is here to gather evidence about the casino’s secrets and to build a case against the owners.” The declaration actually surprised her.

  Frowning, Heidi continued to pet Minion’s head, gentle, soothing strokes. It helped her stay calm as much as it kept the imp asleep. “He’s human?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are you worried?” She saw the agitation under the words, in his bearing, and hanging around his neck like a noose threatening to string him up.

  Connor tried to force a more relaxed posture. It didn’t work. “He is a very stubborn human. He makes his living doing surveillance and is extremely talented.”

  Heidi waved a hand. “He’s still human. There’s more to it. Spill.”

  “He’s a null.” He pushed the words out through gritted teeth.

  A
null—well, that explains Connor’s presence. “So the natural enchantments don’t work on him.”

  “No.” As one of four remaining Overseers, Connor wielded considerable power. That only he approached her suggested his fellow Overseers remained divided on how to handle the issue. Or perhaps he acted alone without their knowledge or approval.

  She imagined it was some combination of the two. The Overseers lost one of their number just a couple of months before and had, to her knowledge, not replaced their fifth. That meant the four who remained had to drain their considerable personal resources to maintain the protections over the casino.

  Exerting some energy, she wound a spell around the Minion and activated the little one’s teleportation ability. The imp vanished with a poof to Heidi’s private suite where she could sleep safe and undisturbed.

  Inching forward on her seat, she flattened her palms against the desk. “If he is a null, then my only option is to put him in a puzzle box. I could remove the issue, but that would generate far more interest if he disappeared while here on assignment.” They rarely needed to deal with the human authorities, but it wasn’t unheard of. Actions demanded consequence, but did they dare risk attracting more agents to search for one downed man? She doubted it.

  “No. That needs to be an absolute last resort. I want to use one of your girls. Let her seduce him, distract him, change the data if necessary—”

  “My girls are not prostitutes.” Nor would she sell them out to the highest bidder.

  “No, but one of them owes us a favor. We’re calling that favor in now.”

  And there was the rub.

  “She is far too innocent to do what you’re asking.” Innocent wasn’t the correct word, but the woman’s innate sunshine and honesty powdered her every action like sweet sugar on glazed donuts.

  “It’s what makes her perfect. She need not truly deceive, just distract, enchant, seduce. I have seen your dancers. They are all capable of it.” Connor didn’t threaten, but she didn’t mistake the steel in his tone for a request.

  “I will ask her. If she agrees, fine. If not—”