Animal Attraction (26 page)

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Authors: Tracy St. John

Tags: #erotica, #paranormal, #bdsm, #bondage, #multiple partners, #spanking, #domination submission, #age play, #netherworld, #tracy st john

BOOK: Animal Attraction
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I headed down. My landing was rough enough
that I felt the reverberations through my legs and spine, but I did
not crash. Let me say that again. I did not crash. I landed upright
on my feet.

I beamed at the three people before me. Their
grins were almost as big as mine.

Congratulations rang out in the dark night. I
basked in the praise. I thought maybe I should give Arthur a gift
as thanks for getting me on the right path. What does one offer a
pyrokinetic? Marshmallows? Chocolate and graham crackers? Arthur
deserved s’mores, all right. Hee hee, I was giddy from my
success.

Wendy’s phone went off, signaling she had a
text. She read it and grimaced. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got
to get back to the office and take care of a couple of matters.
There are those who can’t think for themselves when the boss is out
of town.” She rolled her eyes and received our snickering
sympathies.

I couldn’t help but give her a quick hug.
“Thank you for your help and patience. I’m grateful.”

She smiled and returned the squeeze. “Not at
all. You did wonderful.”

Maybe I made a new friend. Stranger things
have happened.

When Wendy flew into the night, I turned to
the guys and beamed. “I can do that too.”

They chuckled. It occurred to me that Gerald
probably didn’t realize Dan had shown up, so I told him. Gerald
waved all around himself to make sure Dan saw him saying hello. My
success had hit us all with the goofy stick.

I made myself get serious since I thought Dan
wouldn’t show up at my usual site of shame without reason. “What
news do you have?”

“Death by gunshot on that werehog. The police
are calling it manslaughter by poachers. As far as they’re
concerned, illegal hunters were out being stupid. The assumption is
the instructor went out on the training center’s grounds, wandered
onto county property, and ended up in the wrong place at the wrong
time.”

I repeated everything to Gerald before asking
my next question. “Was the bullet made with silver?”

Dan grimaced. “The shell had silver shot
mixed into it. It is legal in this state even though para rights
groups have gotten the laws changed in 34 other states. Georgia is
one of the holdouts.”

Again I reported to Gerald. He shook his
head. “Even if he hadn’t bled out, the silver would have eventually
killed the poor guy.”

I scowled. Even if I hadn’t suspected
Tattingail to be hunting shifters on purpose, I thought the matter
should have been treated like a murder. “Are they at least
investigating the country club and the people who hunt there?”

Dan sighed. “They went over and asked some
questions since the club is nearby. However all the members of the
hunting club have alibis, including Cliff Tattingail.” His brow
wrinkled. “I found it interesting that a few of them vouched for
each others’ whereabouts.”

That bothered me. “You’re thinking the whole
hunting group from the club is involved?”

Gerald sucked in a breath. “Man, that’s
messed up. Way worse than a fight club.”

Dan said, “The club insists they have not
been out hunting for a couple of weeks. They also have rules
against it after sundown and there was no evidence that anything
happened on their property.”

“Someone was out there with a gun last
night,” I reminded him. Had a clandestine hunt been going on when I
tried to fly over the country club grounds? Was that why someone
had been out, ready to shoot?

Dan’s expression was grim. “Your sister’s
husband needs to come clean with what he knows. We’ve got to
convince him to go to the police. The other missing shifters are
probably dead, and he will be too if he allows himself to be
hunted.”

I agreed, but I knew what we were up against.
“It won’t be easy to get Ryan to talk since it means he faces a
prison sentence for embezzling and fraud. Still, we’ve got to try.
I’ve already left a message for Ashley telling her I need to see
Ryan.”

I grabbed my purse out of Gerald’s car to see
if she had called back yet. “Darn it. I must have left my phone at
the office.” I turned to Gerald. “Let’s get back to Para Central
and see if Ashley has returned my call. We’ve got to stop her
husband from going through what that poor werehog did.”

“You’re not going to try flying back to the
King George?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “All my happy thoughts are
gone. I’m nowhere near serene enough to attempt it.”

 

 

Chapter 11

I’d left my cell phone smack dab in the
middle of my desk, all right. It and my landline were full of
frantic messages from my sister begging me to call her back
immediately. The first one had been left hours ago.

I called, worry filling my head. Ashley
picked up on the first ring. She darned near screamed her
‘hello’.

“Ashley, it’s – it’s Patricia Keith.” I’d
nearly said my real name.

She sobbed, “Where have you been? I’ve been
trying to reach you!”

“What’s wrong?” Like I didn’t know. I cursed
myself for leaving the stupid phone behind.

“Ryan got a call right after dinner. He left
without a word – he wouldn’t answer any of my questions. He hasn’t
come home, and he’s not at the hospital. He’s not picking up his
cell phone either.”

I checked the time, my heart sinking. It was
less than an hour until dawn. No way I could charge over to the
hunt club like the cavalry. Not in Patricia’s body.

Fearing we would be too late, I choked out,
“Do you know who called him?”

“It was Cliff Tattingail. I heard Ryan call
him by name. He didn’t realize I was eavesdropping.” Anger crept in
to mitigate some of her terror. That was good. Anger was much
better.

I thought over our options fast. “All right,
champ. I have an idea where he might be. I’m going to check things
out and make sure Ryan’s okay.”

Suspicious confusion greeted my statement.
“You have to get below ground soon though, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I’ll send someone out to check on
my suspicions. Listen Ashley, you may not hear anything for a while
depending on if we have to take action. Don’t do something stupid
in the meantime, okay? You hang tight and stay calm for Jesse. If
Ryan shows up at work, call—” I glanced at Gerald, who gave me a
nod. “—call Gerald. You know, the werepanther?” I gave her his
number.

“All right,” Ashley said. Her tone wavered,
but she didn’t sound as hysterical as she had when she’d first
picked up the phone. “Is Ryan in danger?”

I wanted to ease her mind, but I couldn’t
lie. “Maybe. But we will find him. Don’t worry, champ. We look out
for our own.”

She made a strangled noise. Ashley said, “If
you find him, if you talk to him, tell him we can work through any
trouble he’s in. I just want him safe.”

“We will.”

I hung up and looked at Gerald and Dan and
then the clock again. “I have to get to ground. Dan?”

He nodded. “I’ll go to that hunt club and see
if he’s there.”

“Come straight back when you know something.
If you don’t find anything by daylight, I’ll meet you at the
clubhouse.”

He nodded and disappeared.

I paced back and forth, waiting in my office
as long as possible. I kept checking the clock, watching the minute
hand inch closer and closer to the time when Gerald would have to
drive me to the gravesite. The werepanther eyed both the clock on
the wall and his watch continuously, his ears going flatter and
flatter to his skull as he worried.

“Brandilynn, we should go,” he said after a
little while. “I know you don’t trust your ability to fly well
enough to try it right now.”

“I don’t. There’s still time though. And you
can lock my body up in the office if we don’t leave in time. We’re
underground after all.” I desperately wanted to hear that Dan had
found Ryan alive or not at all.

“You know it’s not safe to do that. Do you
know how many attempts have been made on Patricia’s life in the
past? There are plenty of people unhappy that Tristan won that seat
at the General Assembly, and some yahoo might decide to take it out
on his sister. Most don’t know you’re not Patricia. Even if they
did, a dead vamp is a dead vamp and therefore a good vamp.”

He was right. We needed to go so I could
store my body in the safest place. I stood, readying to leave.

At that moment Dan popped into the room. He
wasn’t surprised to see me still there, but he got cranky. “I
figured as much. You need to get to ground now.”

I waved him off. “Did you find Ryan? Is he at
the country club?”

“A truck matching his is. I can’t find Ryan
Warner there, though.”

“Oh no.” I envisioned the worst.

“If he was dead, they’d have made the truck
disappear. You don’t keep a dead man’s vehicle out in plain sight.”
Dan glared at me. “Get Patricia’s body to her coffin and then zap
back here. We need to find him.”

No body. The truck had been located. Dan was
right, that had to count for something. That’s what I kept telling
myself as I ran after Gerald to the parking lot. But images of
Ashley and little Jesse kept swimming over my mind’s eye. We
couldn’t be too late. That little boy needed his dad.

* * * *

If I could have jumped out of Patricia’s
body, I would have. I had to be patient and settle for appearing by
the grave as soon as she released me. Dan waited for me there.
Without a word between us, he grabbed my hand and ‘ported us to the
country club.

It occurred to me that this was a place I
should have known. I’d been a high-priced escort in life, my job
hanging on rich men’s arms at parties and events. However quite a
few of those men didn’t want it known they’d hired their date. Much
of my work had been done out of town in cities like Savannah and
Jacksonville. I’d never been taken to the Fulton Falls Country
Club.

As it was, I got to see the parking lot, a
portion of the unnaturally green golf course and the outside of the
stucco-sided modern club building. We weren’t there to mix and
mingle, after all. We had a life to save.

It was insanely early yet. Only one vehicle
sat in the lot, a too-familiar black truck with dark tinted
windows. I winced to see it. “It’s Ryan’s, all right.”

Dan’s face settled into grim lines. “I went
all through the club. It’s locked and he isn’t anywhere in
there.”

I scowled and looked around. The place was
quiet, the tan and ivory building lifeless. Woods surrounded the
place, and I tried to get my bearings to figure out where the
hunting grounds might be. I worried the hunt might already be
on.

The sound of car engines reached my ears.
Coming through the trees, on the access road that I presumed led to
Highway 17, the chrome grill of a big car twinkled in the morning’s
first light. I knew that vehicle on sight. It was followed by an
Escalade, a big imposing truck built more for bragging rights than
hauling anything.

My gaze riveted on the approaching sedan,
however. “Tattingail.”

They pulled into the lot and parked on either
side of Ryan’s Ford, unknowingly running over me and Dan. I sighed
at the uncomfortable sensation of having an engine block in my twat
and stepped between the vehicles. Tattingail jumped out of his car,
his expression angry. The Caddy spit out a big, beefy guy whose
clothes were an advertisement for Land’s End’s version of hunting.
He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

I called out to the oblivious Tats, “Good
morning to the jerkface of the hour. Where’s Ryan, you douche?”

Dan scowled at the other guy resplendent in
red flannel that matched his ruddy cheeks. “The man with Tattingail
... isn’t that Ed Duke?”

I gave the guy my undivided attention. “The
prosecutor from Waycross? Holy heck, it is!”

We in the para community were not fans of
Duke. It was a good thing he came from the next county over,
because Tristan would never let this monster into Ford County. As
the town of Waycross’ head prosecutor, he’d found ‘insufficient
evidence’ to file charges against a cop who had killed a couple of
shifter teenagers. The officer had claimed self-defense, but a
witness had shot video footage on his cell phone showing the kids
running from him when he fired silver shot at them.

Duke’s refusal to prosecute had landed him in
a lot of trouble. You wouldn’t have known it to look at his jowly
complacent face though. He relied on his network to pull his butt
out of the fire. Meanwhile, the rest of us rooted for a head
prosecutor barbecue.

I pushed Duke’s legal troubles out of my
mind. I needed to know where Ryan was.

The Tats ranted to his companion. “I told
Warner not to park here! He knew to go straight to the cabin.”

Duke dug a key out of his pocket. “He’s
playing games, but no harm done. We’ll get the truck out of sight
before anyone shows up.”

Tattingail wasn’t mollified, but he headed
back towards the driver’s side of his car. “The next one will be
warned that if he tries to pull this kind of stunt, his family will
answer for it.”

The Tats got in his car and pulled back out.
Duke unlocked Ryan’s truck and got in. He started it up. Dan and I
‘ported ourselves in the truck bed to ride along.

We set off down the road that led to the
highway. As we went Dan mused, “I distinctly remember Tattingail
voicing his support of this clown when he let that shifter killer
go.”

“He’s not one of the good guys,” I agreed. I
made a face at the back of Duke’s head.

A few yards down the tiny two-lane road, the
truck turned left onto a dirt trail just wide enough for one
vehicle. A sign next to it proclaimed, ‘Members and Staff Only’.
The woods closed in on either side of us. I didn’t remember seeing
this dirt road in the zoning map I’d looked at.

Dan’s head swiveled this way and that as he
took in the mostly pine trees that grew high. “Isn’t this the
general area where you saw that light in the woods last night?”

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