Animal Attraction (18 page)

“It’s me, Brandilynn.” Tristan’s voice.

I blinked in surprise. And don’t get me
started on Tristan smelling of fresh blood. He’d gone back to live
donors. The scent made my head reel.

Worst than smelling what I shouldn’t have was
remembering he’d once sworn off feeding from the living as part of
his commitment to me. That was when there had been a chance of us
being together. Another reminder of love lost.

Thank heavens there were no living creatures
in the cemetery at that moment. I’m not sure I’d have been able to
resist with everything against me.

Tristan had the good sense to shove an open
bottle of BP9 at me. As it was the only thing around to slake my
ravaging hunger with, I snatched it and downed it in three seconds
flat. Tristan was ready with a second and a third bottle too. As I
drained the last one, the furious buzzing in my head and gnawing
need in my gut quieted. I could think again.

I swallowed the final drops, feeling the rest
of glamour’s pretense of normality drop into place. I faced Tristan
sans fiery eyes and fanged teeth. I tried not to see the beauty of
my former lover. I ignored that he’d gone back to blood
groupies.

I even managed a polite, “To what do I owe
this pleasure?” Before he could answer, I thought to worry over my
usual greeter. Concern replaced irritated confusion. “Is Gerald
okay?”

Tristan’s smile soothed. The pink-tinged lips
flushed with fresh, living blood helped the appearance of ease.
“Gerald is fine. I wanted to talk to you in private is all. Since
my time is extremely limited, this seemed like the best
opportunity.” He waved at the Mercedes idling close. “Shall
we?”

I stared at him for a long beat before
nodding. “Sure.”

My steps still dragged with reluctance
because I wasn’t sure what to expect. I hated to be suspicious of
my former sweetheart, a man I still loved. But this was Tristan
Keith. That vampire was always plotting something.

Tristan drove with practiced ease. Even
though he could fly as well as any vampire – no jealousy here,
ha-ha – the car was the latest in a long line of Mercedes he’d
owned. His co-commissioners were all earthbound humans, as were
many of the business owners and contributors to his campaigns and
charities.

I eyed the remainder of the six-pack of BP9
he’d brought, trying to ignore the tastier smell of fresh blood
coming off Tristan. Despite my many failings, I was getting better
at not using Gerald as my personal Fountain of Sanity. However I
knew if he had been along for this particular ride, Tristan’s
upholstery would have gotten splashed. I opened a new bottle and
tried to concentrate on the leather smell of the car’s
upholstery.

Tristan glanced at me before checking traffic
on the road he readied to turn onto. “You first. Did you dig up
anything interesting today?”

I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment
that we were all about business. We were halfway to the King George
when I finished telling him about Ryan and Tattingail.

Tristan’s dark eyes looked black as night as
he mulled over the news I’d collected. “If Tattingail is behind
these disappearances, I fear the worst. He has never made it a
secret he wants paras, particularly the shifters, exterminated. The
bastard is careful though. Nothing of a nefarious nature has ever
come up in his dealings.”

“You would know,” I said. Tristan made a
point out of finding out as much about his opponents as possible.
“I wish I knew where he wanted Ryan to go. What he’s supposed to
do. I couldn’t get a bead on that at all.”

“Blackmail. How did he find out Dr. Warner’s
accounting irregularities? Or about the misdeeds that the rest
committed?” Tristan shook his head. “There are more people involved
in this. I’m sure of it.”

“We still have to prove this situation is
tied to the other missing shifters,” I sighed. “Even then, my word
won’t mean anything since I’m gathering information as a ghost.”
Spirit evidence is inadmissible in court.

“I’m sure Warner and Tattingail are a part of
the bigger picture. Your sister’s husband fits the profile of the
ones who have gone missing to a tee.”

“I’m going to keep close tabs on him. He’s
our one verifiable link to whatever is happening.”

We settled into silence. We were entering the
downtown area when Tristan spoke again. “I suppose you realize I’ll
be hard to get hold of now. I’ll be splitting my time between
Fulton Falls and Atlanta as I get ready to take office.”

I put on a brave smile. “I figured. Off to
bigger and better things.”

“I want you to know – I’m still here for you
– I mean, I realize I haven’t been the man I should have been these
last couple of months.” He struggled mightily to find words for
something that there was no easy way to speak of.

I swallowed the last of my latest bottle. I
looked over at him, sitting so close. He may as well have been a
million miles away. He hadn’t left for Atlanta yet, but he was
already gone.

Feeling all of that, I said, “We’re over,
Tristan. I know that. It hurts, but I know. This will help us make
a clean break of it once and for all.”

We reached the storefront that housed the
entrance into the King George. Tristan parked the car and switched
it off. We sat there, listening to the engine tick as it
cooled.

His voice came out thick, as if he dredged it
up from his gut. “I still love you. I always will.”

But you love me second best
, I
thought. That knowledge brought no pain. Patricia had been here
first and Tristan had invested much more in her than me.

He kept going, trying to find a way through
the hurt. “I don’t blame you, you know. Things would have been much
worse for Fulton Falls if Patricia had been saved.”

“That doesn’t stop the guilt.” I spoke from
harsh experience.

“No. Yet I know she would have wanted it this
way. She was always about the greater good, and a lot of paras are
still around because she’s not. I can’t tell you how many times
Patricia told me, ‘We look out for our own’.”

I patted his hand, all the contact that felt
safe to offer. “Go to Atlanta. Kick butt for the paras of this
state. We’ll keep things in order here as a way to honor
Patricia.”

He nodded. We got out of the car and headed
inside without speaking again. There was an unspoken agreement that
we had nothing left to say, no way to build the bridge across the
gulf that now separated us.

As I walked down the hall, I heard masculine
laughter coming from my office. I stalked in to find Gerald and
Levi waiting for me. Yeah, just what I needed on the heels of my
conversation with Tristan. I headed straight for the bottle
cabinet.

They sat side by side in front of my desk.
Somehow the werewolf with short hair wearing an official law
instructor uniform looked like the werepanther with cornrows
wearing black leather and jeans. Their anticipatory expressions
were identical as they watched me grab a BP9. Bromance at its
finest, my friends.

I sank into my chair behind the desk and
looked the two impossibly sexy shifters. Their lips still curled in
slight smiles from whatever they’d been discussing before my
arrival. Thank goodness Tristan showing up to collect me this
evening had guaranteed I’d swallow an ocean of Blood Potion.
Otherwise, I’d be a bloodthirsty, cockhungry mess right now.

I gave them cool and collected Patricia gaze.
“Do I even want to know?”

The attitude made Levi act professional for
once. He straightened in his chair and gave me a serious look. “I
dropped by to see if you’d found out anything interesting today.
Maybe something I can work on with my missing instructors?”

I nodded. “Maybe.” I asked Gerald, “Did you
tell him about last night’s visitor?”

Gerald was more relaxed but still about
business. “I gave him the low down on what your sister told us. I
figured you’d be okay with that.”

Levi’s curiosity came through. “How’s that
link to Tattingail look?”

“Solid, but I’m still not sure what’s up with
it.” I shared everything I’d found out.

The two men sat quietly as they churned the
information over in their heads. Gerald finally spoke.

“I know I’m in left field on this, but my
mind keeps going to that movie I watched last night. You know the
one where all the guys get together to beat the shit out of each
other? A secret club of some sort.”

Levi nodded. “Great flick. That’s a heck of
an idea, Kitten. Can you imagine a fighting pit where humans and
shifters duke it out?”

“More likely shifters against shifters since
we’re stronger than norms. Thunderdome to the death stuff.”

“Unless the norms are allowed weapons.
Shifters get hurt, maybe killed. They don’t come back.”

“What lovely thoughts you boys bring to the
table.” I felt queasy at the idea since Tattingail would no doubt
love such a scenario. Then I had to bark a harsh laugh. “I’m trying
to picture wimpy-butt Cliff Tattingail taking on a bear. That’s
what Ryan Warner is.”

Gerald snorted. “The Tats is a little bitch.
No offense, Pup.” He gave Levi a broad grin.

Levi looked like he might be taking the idea
seriously. “If something like that was going on, a coward like
Tattingail would arrange it, not take part. Maybe bet on it or sell
tickets.”

Gerald nodded. “That man loves money.”

“And hates shifters. No doubt he’s got the
odds stacked sky-high against them. Where would they put something
like that together?”

I had to put the brakes on their wild
supposing. “You don’t know that’s what’s going on. All he said was
take the staff entrance and follow the signs.”

Levi’s gaze was distant. “An established
location. High end. Could be on Hamilton Island then. Even one of
the billionaire homes.”

“Which takes out your den of fighting
shifters. I can’t imagine the maid service not talking about
cleaning up blood stains.”

Gerald snorted. “Put enough money on the
table, a lot of people will keep their mouths shut.”

“Or if threatened with the right blackmail.
Tattingail’s got a soft spot for that, from what it sounds like.”
Levi stood. “I’ll make some calls, see about Tattingail’s favorite
haunts. Nice work, Brandilynn. At least now we’ve got something to
work with.”

I won’t deny I didn’t preen a little over the
praise. I stood to show him out. “You still can’t make it official,
huh?”

He gave me a wry smile. “I can’t even go to
the police with what you heard, seeing as how the information is
coming from a ghost.”

I knew it was a dead end (pun not intended),
but I pointed out, “As Patricia, I’m undead though. Vampire
testimony is allowed.”

“And how shall we say you overheard these
conversations? Trespassing, spying without a warrant?”

I blew out a breath. “The system needs an
overhaul.”

Gerald stood and yawned, showing off his
pointy fangs. “Yeah, we’ve been saying that for decades now.” He
gave Levi a not so gentle shove. “Hey, you catching the hoops this
weekend?”

Levi looked at him like Gerald had asked if
he masturbated in public. “Heading into March Madness? You’d better
believe it.” He grinned in anticipation. “Give me a call and we’ll
figure something out.”

“Sweet. Later, Pup.”

“See ya, Kitten.”

Levi blew me a kiss and left. Well at least I
wasn’t completely forgotten in Man Land.

As Patricia, I had nothing pressing on my
agenda that night. I asked Gerald, “What should we do this
evening?”

He grinned and winced at the same time.
“Flying practice.”

The night was not looking up. “Crap.”

Gerald let a note of hope creep into his
voice. “Wendy’s coming along this time. You get pro help for a
change.”

I blinked to absorb that. Wendy? One of the
vampires? Well Tristan had promised to make them accept me more. I
offered a weak, “That’s something, I suppose.”

Gerald went to the cabinet and hauled out a
full case of BP9. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said, and
headed out the door.

Who was I kidding? With a reluctant vampire
along to see how bad I performed something they all took for
granted, I needed as much happy-juice as possible.

Chapter 8

I had to admit that night’s lesson was going
better than previous ones. Wendy proved to be amazingly patient ...
and nice. Nice went a long way, especially when one had dropped
from the sky for the fourth time.

I lay on my back staring up at the
star-splashed sky over the field. I saw the telltale lights of an
airplane passing overhead and hated it. How dare it fly when I
couldn’t. Stupid plane.

I heard Wendy coming over. Not wanting to
appear as defeated as I felt, I got to my feet. A glance at her
pale orb face told me she did her best to not laugh. I appreciated
the effort, because I know to everyone but me it was funny.

Her voice sounded unnaturally bright as she
said, “Okay Brandilynn, let’s see what we’ve got. Straight flight
is improving, turning in midair is still a problem.”

“You think?” I brushed myself off. Thank
goodness I’d changed out of the nice Armani suit I’d started the
night out in. I was beginning to appreciate the mass produced
offerings of supercenters. Messing up a tee shirt that asks ‘I Got
Out of My Coffin For This?’ didn’t hurt my feelings a bit. I knew
letting Gerald shop on my behalf had been a mistake.

Wendy arched a brow. “You’re vamping, dear.
Do you need a drink?”

I glanced at Gerald, who stood back at a
distance. He held a couple of bottles in his hands. Too bad it
wasn’t Blood Potion I would lunge for if he came near enough to
hand it to me.

I did not want to go that route, because I
knew where it would lead. I forced myself to look away from the
werepanther who offered so much more than blood.