Flamingo Fugitive (Supernatural Bounty Hunters 5) (6 page)

Chapter Ten

Stone went through his normal routine.  Run, juice, workout and shower.  He was done with the shower and on his way out the door when he noticed the text from Caitlyn.  His rhino groused uneasily.  Like ripping a band-aid off, Stone quickly read the text.  Best to get worrying things over and done with quickly. 

I’m sorry about last night.  Let’s not fight.

His rhino paced.  Stone’s stomach ached.  It never ached.  He was too healthy and ate too well for it ever to feel bad.  But it was like the sinking feeling you have when you know something bad is coming.  You can see the signs.  You know everything is going bad, but you just don’t know what to do about it.  It was the slowly sinking feeling.

No, he did know what to do.

Caitlyn had it in her head that there was something more to their relationship.  He knew what to do.  He fired off a text to her that said, ‘don’t worry, we can still be friends, see you around’.  There, that should do it - firm but friendly.

His beast snorted, clearly thinking that his friendly approach wasn’t going to help anything.  But Stone didn’t want to be cruel.  Texting ‘back off you crazy bitch’ would probably make her worse and then he’d be the bad guy.  There were no bad guys in this; there was just a misunderstanding.  Brushing off what happened last night and firmly putting her in the friend category sent the right message.

The rhino shook his head.  The animal believed that the only right message in this situation was ‘fuck off’ but he wasn’t going to argue when it came to dealing with people.

Stone whistled as he walked out the door, reassured that the situation was under control.

*

Francine tried not to shudder.  The cold, lean man in front of her was a snake shifter.  She didn’t have anything against them,
exactly
.  It’s just that snake shifters tended to be brutal.  Not wonder the most hated judge on American Supernatural Idol was a snake shifter.  The guy was vicious –
he made bear shifters cry
.

She’d had her day in court, or at least her morning.  Her lawyer pleaded not guilty for her and some prosecuting bitch –
another freaking hyena
– had laid it on thick about Francine being a flight risk.  She all but said it was because she was a flighty flamingo.  Her bird bristled with indignation.

Bail had been set exorbitantly high, and the detective –
her fan
– had a friend who was a bail bondsman.  He had set up a quick meeting in the hope that she could be free before they actually took her to jail.

She assessed the man in front of her.  The well-cut suit, neat hair and cold eyes screamed that he was a typical snake shifter - at least, at first glance.  On second glance, this snake shifter didn’t seem all that fierce.  On closer look, he seemed a little rumpled.  His face was unshaven, and his eyes didn’t so much have bags as luggage.  He sat in the seat opposite with the weariness of someone who hadn’t slept in a very long time.

“Right, I’m Marcus Blau.  I’m your bail bond agent.  I need ten percent of your bail in order to get you out.  Then you turn up for your court date, and we’re all square.  Got it?”  He said all this in a long stream and all in a tired, monotonous voice.  He closed his eyes for a few moments, and Francine wondered if he was trying to sleep.

“Ummm, I don’t have that much money.”  Even if she sold everything she owned –
including her body
– she would never have that much money.

Marcus sighed the sigh of a man who knew this was going to happen, but really hoped it wouldn’t.  He opened his eyes again.  “Do you have a car?  Or some expensive jewelry?”

“I’m between vehicles and all my jewelry is fake.”  She had lots of pairs of shoes, but they did decrease in value the moment you stepped out the store in them.

“Your bail was pretty steep…”

“Please don’t leave me in jail,” begged Francine.  She prided herself that she could act happily in any situation – meeting an ex’s new girlfriend, holding her younger sister’s children.  But she didn’t think she could manage to pretend to be happy for a protracted amount of time in jail.

He sighed again.  “I’m sorry…”  He paused as his phone rang.  His eyebrow only twitched slightly at the ring tone – ‘Baby Love’.  “Do you mind?”

Francine shook her head.

He stood up and walked a couple of steps away.  “Hey, beautiful… uh huh… I’m sorry… yep will do… yep… newborn… I know the size, beautiful… I’ll pick up some cream, too… I’ll be home soon… soon… no, soon… I promise… no, I promise… soon… alright, I love you… no, I do… of course, I do… you’ll always be the sexiest woman in the world to me… no, I mean it… I love you, and I’ll see you soon.”

He ended the call and sat down again.

“How old?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow.

“New baby, right?”

Marcus was too tired to affect his usual chilly standoffishness.  “Twins and they’re two weeks old, and neither of them seems to have slept a wink since they were born.”

She smiled kindly.  “And your mate’s exhausted and firmly under the impression that she’s no longer attractive.”

He looked at her warily.  “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Francine scooted forward, almost in a conspiratorial fashion.  “My friend went through the same thing when her triplets were born.  You need a Yetta.”

“Yetta?”

“The uber-nanny of nannies.”

Marcus drummed his fingers on the table.  “I don’t think Ling will go for a nanny.  I don’t think she’ll like the idea of anyone raising our kids but us.”

“Not a full-time nanny.  Yetta’s agency is just for the first couple of months to give the parents a little help when they need it.  They don’t interfere; they’re just handily in the background for whenever you may need them.  They’re there to allow the new mommy to get some sleep; they help when they do things like go shopping – have you ever tried food shopping with a baby, never mind two.  Think Mary Poppins with less singing.  Yetta trains the best nannies in the city, and her wait list is a mile long.  Women who are just trying to get pregnant put their names on it.”

“So how the fuck does that help me?” he hissed before softening.  “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

“My friend is Yetta’s best friend’s niece; she could probably get you a nanny by the end of the day.  Course, I’d have to be inclined to do so…”

Marcus’ eyebrow ticked.  “I’m not sure.”

“When was the last time that you and your mate just slept together?”

“What?” he snapped, eyes flashing black. 
His sex life was definitely off limits
.

Francine held out her hands in a placating manner, and her flamingo chirruped, soothingly.  “I don’t mean that,” she said, softly.  “I mean, when was the last time you just relaxed and held her.”  She held her breath on that one.  In her experience, snakes weren’t overly affectionate, even to their mates.  But the phone conversation he had with his mate bordered on downright gushy – at least by snake standards.  If she had to guess, she’d say his mate wasn’t a snake. 
Either that or he had cat hair on his jacket
.  She bet his mate was some kind of small, hairy mammal.

She sometimes wished that she was a shifter with a good sense of smell – flamingos could barely smell anything.  But if she wished that then her flamingo would get into a snit, and Francine would have to calm her down.  It was better not to think those kinds of mutinous thoughts.

“If you can do this,” began Marcus.  “I’ll cover your bail.”

Francine beamed, but Marcus held up a hand.  “But, this nanny better be as good as you say, and you better turn up for your court date, or I’ll send a rampaging rhino after you.”

She nodded without really listening.  Freedom was within sight, and she could care less at the cost at that moment.

Chapter Eleven

Stone peeked out of his apartment.  His rhino intimated a word that may have been pussy, but Stone was too occupied to care at that moment.

It had been a few days since the incident with the she-wolf and Caitlyn and…
the situation was getting worse.

Following his text – which he did think was a masterful text message – Caitlyn had texted him to ask if he wanted to meet her parents.  He said he had a busy schedule.  Again, the rhino lobbied for ‘fuck off’.  She popped up at the gym when he was taking a new client for a tour of the facilities, an older fox shifter.  And boy was she foxy!  Recently divorced and just dying to take a younger man for a spin.  Stone was just working his magic when Caitlyn appeared and clung to him harder than a limpet.  His client was not impressed and decided to go to Heavenly
Bodies
instead.

After he changed his shift, so that Caitlyn wouldn’t distract him, or piss off any more of his potential clients, he found a note pushed into his locker asking if he wanted to go on a picnic over the weekend.  He hadn’t done anything with that, even though the rhino was again pushing for ‘fuck off’. 

She’d had groceries sent to his apartment. 
She bought him freaking groceries!
  And she had been to his apartment at least once because he could smell her scent lingering around his door.  Also, she’d drawn a heart on his door in lipstick. 
That was kind of hard to miss.
  It took him ages to wash it off – her lipstick must have glue in it.

So yeah, now he was a little wary about leaving his apartment.  He was starting to feel hunted, and he didn’t like it one bit.  Really, he knew he needed to talk to her, to stop this before it got out of hand.  Or at least more out of hand than it already was.  And he would, as soon as he saw her again – because he had no idea where she lived or what her last name was, and this was something he needed to say in person.  He wasn’t a coward, just mindful that he might be dealing with someone who was as crazy as two coconuts knocking together.  Who knew what she might do?!  When it came to bounty hunting, he knew that a lot of his skips would do anything not to be dragged back to the cops, and he was okay with that.  They hit, kicked and punched him, but he could deal with that – that was normal.  Caitlyn on the other hand, her reactions to situations, they weren’t normal.

He found the hallway empty, devoid of any mountain lion stalkers.  He knew he shouldn’t be relieved, but he was.  He was just delaying the inevitable confrontation, but, hey, the sun was shining, maybe it would be a good day.

His rhino chuffed and brightened.  Huh, even his beast was optimistic about today.

*

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” complained Francine as her flamingo sulked.

Flamingos didn’t work out; they didn’t stay in shape.  But then most flamingos were leggy and lithe, just like her friend, Felicia, who was currently torturing her.  With an hourglass figure, Francine was an anomaly in the flamingo world.  Probably something to do with the bull genes she inherited from her father. 
Yes, she was indeed part cow, which probably explained the hips.

“You need something to distract yourself,” trilled Felicia, smoothly.  She flicked her long blonde hair over a slender shoulder, and some men lifting weights stopped to drool. 

Francine tried to flick her hair, except it was a bit on the short side.  And she took too big of a swing and managed to shoulder into a passing squirrel shifter who chittered, menacingly.  When she looked back, all the men had gone back to their weights. 
Sigh
.

No, she didn’t have Felicia-like looks, which could encompass the descriptions, blonde, tanned, lithe and stunning.  She was pale, curvy, and had pinched features that were, in their own way, quite striking.  She wasn’t a head turner, but her acting teacher had assured her that was a good thing.  She said brilliant actors should have the kind of face that was indistinguishable between roles.  She meant actors should have bland, forgettable faces, which only came alive when they were in a role.  Her acting teacher wasn’t a head turner either.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” she reiterated, feeling it hadn’t garnered the correct response the first time.

Felicia let out a tinkling laugh that was too musically beautiful for words.  A few of the men smiled dreamily at her. 
Idiots
.

“I still need to lose the pounds I put on when I had the triplets.”  Francine gave her a critical look.  She definitely wouldn’t say it was pounds plural.  “And you’re always complaining that you need to lose weight.  I think you look terrific, but you always say it would be good for your career to tone up a little.”

Yeah, she was always saying that.  Usually after a bad audition that went to a pencil-thin actress five years younger than her, and while she was defiantly munching on a bar of chocolate nougat.  She never really meant it, though.

“I don’t see what good it will do me,” she grumbled.  “I have big, fat cow blood in me – I’m probably as thin as I’m ever going to get.”

“Well, like I say it will be a good distraction from this mess with that bastard director.”

Felicia’s cheeks turned pink – a sign that she was furious.  Flamingos didn’t tend to be the angry, rampaging sort.  They tended to flap around squawking when they were upset, or in a crisis or when the store ran out of lemon cheesecake Happy Heart donuts.  Francine felt warmed by her friend’s response, and even her depressed flamingo lifted her head long enough to cluck at the show of solidarity.  The bird had been quiet ever since they left the police station.  She was practically catatonic when Felicia turned up at her door and declared they were going to a gym.

“Besides,” said Felicia, calming slightly.  “We get to dress up in tight, tight shorts and shake our booties for all these muscular men.  Who wouldn’t enjoy that?”

Yes, Felicia was a flamingo to the core.  She couldn’t wait to show off to everyone in the gym.  Before she got married, Felicia wanted to be a dancer, and when drunk, always admitted that she regretted giving up her career.  The closest she got to performing these days was when she hosted dinner parties for her husband’s partners at his advertising firm.  No wonder she was looking forward to this.

Francine loved performing, too – of course, she did, it was one of the reasons she chose her career.  But, she didn’t really feel like this was her target audience.  She’d rather receive ridicule for her acting talent than her body.  At least she felt like she could improve her acting.  She felt sure her heifer genes would always mean she was a curvy birdy.

“Besides,” pouted Felicia, in a dazzlingly pretty way that would make gods weep.  “You wouldn’t leave me here on my own, would you?”

Francine raised a cynical eyebrow.  Yes, judging, by the way, she was flipping her hair around and striking model-like poses, Felicia definitely seemed like the shy type.  “Fine,” said Francine at last, as her flamingo groaned.

Felicia jumped up and down, clapping her hands.  Every male nearby was watching her.  “This is going to be so much fun.  Can you smell that?  Doesn’t that just smell healthy?”

She rolled her eyes.  Thank god she had a bad sense of smell. 
What little she could smell was like Satan’s armpit.

*

Stone smiled and flirted as he gave a bobcat shifter some pointers of improving muscle tone.  He noticed Biff, one of his fellow trainers jerking his head at him.  Stone ignored him, but when Biff started to flap his arms, he couldn’t any longer.  No, by that point everyone in the gym had noticed his
subtle
movements.

He walked over to Biff, a bull shifter and almost as large as Stone.  Although, it had to be said, Stone was the brains in their friendship – which was only a little worrying.

“Practicing aerobics?” asked Stone with a smirk.  His rhino stirred, suddenly interested in what was happening.

“Gabby has two new clients in her office,” said Biff, with almost child-like excitement.

Stone shrugged, but his rhino seemed to be pacing up and down impatiently.  For a moment, he worried that Caitlyn was nearby, but he dismissed that thought.  He’d smell her if she were.  No the scent lingering in the air was much more appealing.  Softer, less tangy.  It reminded him of the peanut butter fudge cake his grandma used to make.  It was
outstanding
.

“Susie said they were flamingos and both about thirty,” said Biff with glee.

He rubbed his chin.  “Really?  Don’t see many in here.”  They didn’t tend to be regulars at the gym as flamingos didn’t put on much muscle, but they were notorious for being blonde and willowy. 
Just his type
.  His rhino grumbled, and Stone hushed him.

“If we get in there now, we could persuade Gabby to give them to us.”

Stone winced slightly.  Gabby, the commandant-like manager, was a bit choosy about the clients she allowed Stone to have.  She let him have older women – because she mistakenly believed he wouldn’t flirt with them – and men – again, because she mistakenly believed he wouldn’t flirt with them.  He didn’t go past flirting with the men, but if it meant more work, he wasn’t above flashing his big, brown eyes at them.  Gabby, however, was being a bit prissy and didn’t want to give him any young, blonde clients. 
Not since the last one
.  Stone didn’t know that the woman happened to be married to their distributor of health food shakes.  He wouldn’t have allowed her to seduce him if he had.  But Gabby, a fiery, Latina jaguar shifter who had a strictly business relationship with all her employees – and a wife called Lisa – was not amused.  They were now charged double the price for their health food shakes, and that meant lissome blonde women were off the table for Stone.

But, Stone was almost certain he was melting her icy ire. 
Almost
.  And he was one of the better trainers in the gym.  Steve, whose nickname was Sgt. Pain didn’t allow his trainees to stop to take a break or get a drink.  In another life, he was surely brandishing a whip in a hot country where pyramids were being built.  Mimi, bless her bubbly soul, wore so little (including no bra) that she gave two guys heart attacks within the space of three weeks.  Biff was okay, but he had a tendency to let his mind wander and often didn’t put his clients through proper warm-ups, resulting in feelings of agony at the end.  Most of those clients didn’t bother to come back.

Surely Gabby wouldn’t deny him?

He sniffed the air, and his rhino moaned, pleasurably.  Damn, that smell really was good.  Chocolate peanut butter fudge cake had to be the single most wonderful smell in the universe – it really did.  It was the reason he took such a circuitous route when jogging – to avoid the bakery that made one almost as good as his grandma’s.  It was
his
smell – the smell that reminded him of afternoons with his grandma while waiting for his dad to come home.  She would ply him with so much cake, in the vain thought that if he were full of cake he wouldn’t remember that his mother had abandoned him.  Ah, those were the days. 
The days when his dad started calling women bitches.
  But Stone had his cake.  Course, it also turned him into a roly-poly young rhino.  Thank the gods he still had his strength.  As a teenager, he was almost as wide as he was tall, but he could still tow the gym teacher’s car home with his bare hands and without too much effort.  Hey, she was tall, blonde, and he had a huge crush on her.  It was her who actually got him back on track, and helped him to get into shape.  She taught him that sugar and carbs are his enemies.  He also lost his virginity to her.  Ms. Cox - that was her name.  He almost went misty-eyed at the memory.  She was probably to blame for his ensuing penchant with tall, toned blondes.

Not that he was picky when it came to women.  He’d flirt with anything with a pulse, or even without one –
vampires were hot, too
.  But, he knew his type.  He also knew he’d never go back to being a roly-poly rhino, which is why he fervently stayed away from chocolate peanut butter fudge cake.

But this scent…
  His rhino sighed.  It was so tempting.  He wanted to throw his sweats to the wind and eat three chocolate peanut butter fudge cakes in a row.

Biff frowned.  “You’re drooling.”

“Mmm?”

The bull shifter chuckled.  “Thinking about the flamingos, huh?  C’mon, let’s go round to Gabby’s office and see if we can get a good look at them.”

“Mmmm.”

Stone not so much followed Biff as he followed his nose.  The smell intensified and he felt a warmth spreading through his body that made him tingle and his rhino positively run around with excitement.  He chuckled inwardly; easy boy, we’ve had cake before.  The rhino ignored him; the beast was far too giddy.

Biff grabbed a couple of bottles of water, so that they could appear to be standing around, nonchalantly chatting and drinking while they ogled the new clients.  Thankfully, the gym didn’t believe in walls, Except for those in and around the locker rooms, the rest of the gym just had windows so that they could see directly into Gabby’s office.  Course they had to shuffle a few other men out of the way who had thought to do the same thing.  They worked for the gym – they got dibs on leering at the new women.