Animal Attraction (5 page)

As I passed the many desks with their
inhabitants working away, I noted how Tristan’s employees snuck
peeks at me. Para Central looked like any office hell with three
rows of desks marching its length, except for the fact that it was
in a Swinging Twenties era hotel ballroom. A twin of the lobby’s
chandelier hung overhead. At the end of the room stood a bandstand
where one might have seen Glenn Miller, had the King George still
existed above ground during his time.

I kept my nose pointed in the direction of
the bandstand stage, where two huge executive desks perched. Behind
those were a couple of whiteboards with notes scribbled in various
handwriting ... a few were notes on county commission dealings, but
most were battle plans for the election.

I faltered a little as I gazed at the big
desk on the left. That had once been Patricia’s desk, where she had
coordinated so much of her brother’s dealings and ordered his busy
life. Since I was not the most welcome creature among the vampires
here, I never used it. I had the office with the late Ms. Keith’s
name on the door.

Manning the desk that still sat there like an
accusation was Patricia’s girlfriend Taylor Allen. I hadn’t seen
Taylor in weeks, except by accident. We had done our level best to
avoid each other. She looked the same as ever, except perhaps for
an aura of sadness that pinched her no-nonsense face. Her short
dark hair was as neat as ever, her typical polo shirt and slacks
ironed and clean. She’d been taking care of herself at least. When
I’d asked about her, the words used were ‘coping well’.

Maybe that was true when the body of her
sweetheart wasn’t walking towards her. When she looked up and saw
me, Taylor visibly blanched. Without a second’s hesitation, she
rose from her chair and abandoned whatever she’d been working on at
the computer. She sprinted out the door at the back of the room
with a quickness that would have impressed a cheetah.

Someone else noted my approach. Tristan’s
secretary Wendy moved from her boss’ desk, the massive one on stage
right. Pretty, brunette, and perpetually in her twenties, she
beelined to intercept me.

Dan spoke in my ear, though there was no one
else around that could hear him. “Stay calm. She’s just doing what
she’s been told to do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “It doesn’t mean I
have to like it.”

Wendy met me and stood in my path. Her smile
didn’t look forced for a change. “Good evening, Ms. Payson. Can I
help you with something?”

I didn’t mince words. “Getting out of the way
would be a nice start. I have to see Tristan.”

I had to give her points for professionalism.
She must have been an executive assistant before she died, because
her polite mien never altered. “I understand, but Mr. Keith has
received huge news. Cliff Tattingail has dropped out of the race
for the state legislature.”

That was enough to get me to pause. I heard
Dan’s startled gasp behind me. ‘Big news’ was an
understatement.

“Since when?” I asked, my voice betraying
shock.

Wendy nodded, her excitement clear. “He
announced it a couple of hours ago. He decided to run for Tristan’s
old seat on the county commission instead.”

Dan snorted, having recovered from the
initial surprise. “Tattingail knew he didn’t have a chance against
Tristan and Emory Cooper. He’s been polling way behind the two of
them.”

Wendy couldn’t hear Dan, of course. He stated
the obvious anyway.

I spoke conversationally as I angled to get
around Wendy. “That makes the race a little more interesting,
doesn’t it? The wingnuts will now back Cooper and make it a closer
race.” I resumed my march to Tristan.

Wendy tried to get in front of me again. “Um,
yes, so this isn’t exactly a good time—”

I rounded on her so fast she nearly bumped
noses with me. “Listen, sweetie. There is never going to be a good
time for me and Tristan to talk, not when I’m wearing his sister
like a permanent Halloween costume. But we have a bigger issue than
his political aspirations – as in life and death matters.”

“A bit melodramatic,” came Dan’s opinion.
“Watch your temper.”

I managed to keep my voice even as I took his
words to heart and attempted to gain Wendy’s assistance. “I need to
talk to Tristan about these shifter disappearances.”

Her professionally polite facade showed up
again, replacing her friendly excitement. “Mr. Keith is aware of
the matter. I told him that agent from the training academy stopped
by—”

“Good. Then I won’t have to take up as much
of his time.” I wheeled around and went for the dark haired man who
may or may not have been ignoring me on the stage. I was only a few
yards from the steps that led up to it.

Wendy’s voice bordered on desperation. “Ms.
Payson, I really need to ask you to wait.”

I was still in control, but I decided I
needed to make a point. When I turned to her again, I let go of the
glamour masking my fangs and red eyes.

“Do you see any Blood Potion in my hand? No,
you don’t. And there are a lot of warm, tasty bodies in this room
right now. Stay out of my way.”

A deep, smooth voice rolled over us. “Hello,
Brandilynn. Did you need to see me?”

I straightened and put the glamour back in
place before turning around to face Tristan Keith, the owner of
that voice.

He stood at the edge of the bandstand,
looking down at us. He wore a modern business suit, but no one
could mistake he’d come from an earlier time. In fact Tristan might
have walked the floors of the King George in its heyday. He might
have danced with flappers in this very ballroom for all I knew.

Gerald stood nearby. His gaze on Tristan said
he was less than pleased with his boss. Our resident psychic Lana
looked kind of angry too. That’s saying something, because Lana is
as bubbly as they come. She almost never gets mad.

Gerald and Lana were my friends. Maybe
Tristan treating me like a pariah got on their nerves. At the
moment, that was neither here nor there. I had come for answers to
other questions, and I was by thunder going to get them.

I gave Tristan the most pleasant look I could
dredge up. Look at me, being polite and reasonable. “Why yes,
Tristan. I do need to see you, right away.”

Without sparing the hapless Wendy another
glance, I mounted the steps to the stage and stood looking at
Tristan. Had there not been so much angst between us, the view
would have been delightful. Black onyx eyes. Even blacker hair, cut
in the fashion of the 1920’s when he’d last drawn a human breath.
Classically cut features gave him a beauty that his pale skin
rendered an enthralling starkness to. He was not
outdoorsy-masculine like Dan, but more like dapper Errol Flynn
masculine. He could have worn (and has worn) a tuxedo as
effortlessly as most men wore jeans.

I swallowed hard. It sucked to still find
Tristan compelling. When I looked at him, even when he was vampire
hard and smelled like the dried husk of something long withered, I
somehow couldn’t believe we were over. My being cried out against
it.

I didn’t dare speak of it with those hard
black eyes on me. Instead I channeled what I’d begun to call my
inner Patricia. It helped to play her in situations like this. Not
to hurt Tristan, but to cope with what we’d become to each
other.

My voice was impersonal, with that tiny lilt
of sarcasm she used to wield so well against everyone but her
brother. “Shifters disappearing without a trace in the last few
months. Know something about that?”

Was it my imagination or did Tristan’s eyes
widen a little bit? If so, the impression was fleeting. He answered
in a flat voice. “I do. Gerald has kept me informed with what he
knows. Well-connected weres with families, not the types that
aren’t missed when they disappear. I’m assured the police are
looking into those missing persons cases. It sounds to me like the
situation is well in hand.”

I was not going to be dismissed like one of
his other lackeys. “If it was, do you think Levi Ward would be
trying to talk to you? You’re not exactly his number one boy, so it
must be bad.”

I saw a twitch in his face that time. “The
dislike is mutual.” Tristan drew himself up and unexpectedly
softened. “You make a good point. Ward would not come to me with
the problem unless he felt he had no other choice. What did he tell
you?”

Holy cats, we were actually speaking like
civilized beings. I eased the snark out of my tone and spoke
naturally. “Essentially that the cops have nothing. Not one speck
of a clue. A couple of the missing are from Levi’s staff. He’s
worried for them and all the other shifters.”

Tristan had brought up an interesting point
that I wanted to jump on right away. I looked at Gerald looming
over Tristan’s shoulder. His musky animal smell was alive and
mouthwatering. Knowing I wasn’t about to chew on that tastiness
made a touch of crankiness creep into my voice. “Why haven’t I
heard anything about this from you?”

The werepanther snorted. “Yeah, like you need
that kind of stress while you’re trying to get your vampire legs
under you.”

“I am not a vampire.” Jeez, when was he going
to get that through his head?

Tristan considered me. He seemed to come to a
quick decision. “Is Dan with you?”

“In spirit if not in the flesh.”

Darn if the corner of Tristan’s mouth didn’t
quirk at my little joke. “Good. I’m calling a meeting in about an
hour. Both of you need to be there. We’ll deal with the matter at
that point ... along with a few other items that need
attending.”

I was shocked. Tristan had not included Dan
and me in anything for weeks. Not only was he telling us to show
up, but his tone sounded friendly.

Before I could recover from my surprise,
Wendy sashayed over. She gave me a cautious look before telling
Tristan, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Keith, but the Fulton Falls
News and that reporter Amy Hoskins are both on the phone. They’re
begging for responses to Tattingail bowing out of the
election.”

Tristan’s expressionless expression returned.
“I’ll take the paper’s call and you can set up an interview with
Amy for—” he paused to look at the time “—three hours from
now.”

Wendy turned to obey his dictates. Tristan
dipped his head to me, his manner back to its formal distance.
“I’ll see you in an hour, Brandilynn. Thank you for bringing the
importance of this shifter matter to my attention.”

He walked away. He sat down at his desk and
picked up the phone to talk to the newspaper. He did not look at me
again.

Okay, the abrupt dismissal stung. But at
least Tristan had spoken to me this time. That couldn’t be bad ...
could it?

I decided to go in search of some more Blood
Potion. I had a feeling tonight’s meeting might be intense.

Before I could beat a retreat, Lana stepped
forward. “Brandilynn, honey? Do you have a second?”

“Now what?” I mumbled to Dan. I loved Lana
but I did not feel sociable at the moment. I wanted to get away
from Tristan as much as he wanted to see me gone.

I hid that as I joined Lana at the back of
the bandstand. Whew, she’d doused herself in whatever scent Avon
had put on sale this month. It darn near made my eyes water.

The psychic medium might have been prone to
wearing too much perfume because she spent so much time around
shifters and vampires. The overwhelming aroma masked her more
delicious natural scent. It kept her from presenting as food.

However I doubted that was the issue. Lana
liked makeup. A lot of makeup. As usual, she’d caked foundation on,
and it settled unbecomingly in the lines of her cherubic
middle-aged face. Her purple eyeshadow matched the eggplant shade
of her polyester blouse. Her lipstick was screaming neon pink.
Mascara clumped her eyelashes.

Her clunky costume jewelry and cheap bargain
clothes were no help to her well-padded body. Nor were her platinum
blond bleached corkscrew curls a credit to her skin tone. Yet as I
joined this fashion disaster, my face stretched in the first real
smile I’d worn all night. Bad makeup could not mask the sweetness
of Lana’s true face. In all the world, there couldn’t be a kinder,
more giving being. Since breathing was not a necessary function of
a vampire body, I didn’t have to avoid her perfume-enveloped body.
I wanted a soft-as-a-pillow hug from my friend and I got it.

The rush of affection I felt for Lana
steadied my nerves as well as a case of Blood Potion. Warm, cuddly,
jolly Lana was a balm for anyone. Her simple smiling presence felt
like a blessing.

“Gerald said flying didn’t go so well. And
that awful werewolf showed up and laughed at you.” Lana patted my
back as if I was a child needing encouragement.

Dan had followed me over and I shot him a
dirty look. He suddenly found the chandelier interesting to stare
at.

“Yeah, well it’s like going to the grocery
store without makeup on. It’s the one time everyone you know runs
out for a gallon of milk,” I said, forcing a laugh.

Lana laughed with me, the sound wholehearted
with agreement. I blocked the mean thought that anyone who caught
Lana without makeup likely wouldn’t recognize her. Lana deserved no
one’s petty criticisms, least of all mine.

I’m not sure what got my hackles up. I never
saw the presence that was suddenly there. Never heard it. But I
sensed it all at once and I went on alert in an instant. My upper
lip wrinkled back from fangs that appeared as alarm took away my
control.

I pushed Lana behind me, getting between her
and the dark shadowy figure emerging from behind the heavy curtain
at the back of the stage. I inhaled, getting copious amounts of
Lana’s perfume. There was something else as well. Something
sulfurous and burnt.

The shape moved forward, slow and sinuous,
almost serpentine. It came into the light and solidified. I
blinked. He was a man, not some hell creature that I’d
half-expected. In fact, I had not seen a less presuming man before.
The one stand-out feature was his strange white-blue eyes. They
were like the eyes of a Siberian husky, except human. Utterly
human, like the rest of him.