Flirting Under a Full Moon (4 page)

All the white-robed Greek gods playing poker seemed perfectly content to Balog.

“I mean
I
can always entertain myself,” she continued. “An earthquake here, a tornado there. I enjoyed the heck out of Hurricane Bob.” She chuckled. “Just enough to make everyone scramble—but not enough to do a lot of damage. Perfect.”

While she was in a good mood, he thought he might as well chat up the Council’s chairwoman. He’d like to test Anthony’s theory and see if getting to know each other better would improve their relationship. “Can you control the intensity of storms?”

Mother Nature grimaced. “Uh…not always. Sometimes I get a little storm going, and then it takes on a life of its own.
Oopsy
.”

“So Katrina? The Japanese earthquakes and tsunami? Those were mistakes?”

Her lips narrowed into a hard line. “Oh, hell. Let’s change the subject.”

“What? Why?”

“When, where, how? You’re getting a little too inquisitive, Balog. Why don’t you stick to what you’re good at?”

“Subterfuge?”

“Sure. If that’s what you like to call it. Now get back out there and keep tabs on my paranormals.”

“Yes, ma’am. Um, there’s one more thing.”

Mother Nature pinched the bridge of her nose and spoke in a bored monotone. “What is it?”

“I—uh…”

“Spit it out.”

“I wondered if you might make good on your promise. You said if I did a good job…”

“Ha. As if I’d release you and your family just when it’s paying off. Think again, Einstein.”

“You need to stay out of this, Brandee. I won’t risk your safety.” Nick stood with his feet firmly planted shoulder-width apart and his hands on his hips. This was his “and that’s final” posture. Hopefully she’d understand body language since his verbal skills weren’t convincing her.

“But I can be helpful. I know I can.”

“Maybe some other time, but not with this case.” Nick needed his wolf senses, and Brandee couldn’t witness him shifting again. It was just luck that she’d lost her camera.

He’d managed to convince her she had seen an actual dog, and, no, he wasn’t leaving a lover when her husband showed up—he would never get involved with a married woman. Grasping at straws, he said he was naked to crawl through a tight basement window—that he was about to grease up his body but dropped the baby oil in his rush to keep her safe. It was far-fetched, but she seemed to reluctantly believe him…at least she let it drop.

Nick had finally made it to Brandee’s apartment an hour after the fiasco, figuring Brandee would be back home by then. She was, and he wanted her to stay there. He had hidden a change of clothes and a gun behind the same Dumpster where he’d shifted before. This time he wouldn’t take any chances and wouldn’t be followed.

***

When all seemed quiet, he went to an old church in Copley Square. It had a round turret atop a curved flight of stairs with waist-high solid walls but no doors to seal it off from the riffraff below. There were so few places that lent themselves to a safe shift. He folded his clothes and left them in the corner. As soon as his transformation was complete, he eased out, sniffed the air, and decided no one was close by.

He ran less than a mile to reach the theater district. He sniffed through the alley he’d visited before. Katie’s scent had faded, but he was still able to pick up faint remnants. He narrowed it down to the back entrance of a building that housed a comedy club. Ironic, since this situation was anything but funny.

Getting in required him to shift back to his human form. Nick hid behind the Dumpster where he’d left some clothes earlier. He dropped onto his hands and knees and concentrated on his human form. His body stretched in some places and shrank in others. He gritted his teeth until it was over. At last, he dressed and tucked the weapon into his waistband behind his back. He left the safety on, because he really didn’t want to add another sphincter back there.

As he stepped out from behind the Dumpster, he came face to face with none other than the persistent cocktail waitress.

Brandee crossed her arms. “I knew it.”

At first Nick was shocked.
She
knows
I’m a werewolf? And she isn’t scared to death?

“I knew you’d be back. Where’s your dog? I thought I saw him a few minutes ago.”

Apparently she thought he had been hiding behind the Dumpster all along—and had a dog.

“That’s not my dog. And I don’t know where he went. He must live around here.”

“So have you figured out where my cousin is yet?”

“I think so, but what I don’t need right now is your interference.”

“Interference?” she shouted. “I’m here to help. I can be your lookout.”

A light went on in the basement of the building Nick had wanted to check out further. “Shhh…for God’s sake, be quiet. I don’t need a lookout. I need you to be safe.”

“I’m perfectly safe. I’m with you,” she whispered loudly. “I know you won’t let anything happen to me.”

The basement light went out and he breathed a sigh of relief. Whomever they’d awakened must have decided to go back to bed.

“Don’t you understand, Brandee? If I’m distracted or preoccupied with protecting you, I could miss something important.”

“Or I might see something that you miss.”

Suddenly an outside light clicked on and the door swung open. A heavyset guy with a long, gray ponytail stepped out. He had one hand behind his back.

“What can I do for you, folks?”

“Nothing,” Nick said. “We were just out for a walk and had a disagreement. I’m sorry if we woke you.”

“You were out for a walk in a dead-end alley?” He pulled out a gun and aimed it at Brandee. “Step inside. Both of you.”

Two other guys appeared behind the first one. Both were armed, and they were big. Wrestler big. One was dark-haired, broad, and muscular with a pockmarked face. The other was younger, maybe late teens or early twenties, and could have been good-looking if not for the red veins in his haunted eyes and a scar from his ear to his Adam’s apple.

Crap.
Nick held up his hands. “Look, this is just a little misunderstanding. Don’t do anything rash.” He glanced over at Brandee. Her eyes were wide and she trembled. “Don’t aim that thing at her. Just let us be on our way.”

“I don’t think so,” the guy with the gun said. He stepped into the alley and waved the gun toward the door. “Inside.
Now.”

“You need some help, boss?” one of the goons asked. “We can pick ’em up and carry ’em inside for ya.”

“Look, just let her go,” Nick demanded. “I’ll come quietly.”

The guy laughed and said, “Yeah, right. She’ll go straight to the police.”

“I won’t. I promise,” Brandee said, barely above a whisper.

The boss spoke without taking his eyes off Nick. “Oh, well, if you promise…” He rolled his eyes. “Bring her inside, Mr. B. And Mr. M., frisk this guy.”

Nick had to make a decision and make it fast. With his superior strength, he could overpower any one of these guys individually, but not all three of them. And one of them had a weapon trained on Brandee. He couldn’t take a chance with her life. He’d just have to go along and hope they’d make a mistake he could take advantage of. Eventually they were bound to let down their guard.

After Nick was frisked and relieved of his gun, the two hostages were brought inside. Mr. M., as he was called, dead-bolted the door behind them.

Mr. B. asked, “What do we do with ’em, boss?”

“Put them downstairs with the other one. Tie them up. Shoot the girl if this guy makes any move to save her. If either of them make any noise, duct-tape their mouths shut.”

“Sure thing.” He pointed his weapon at Nick. “Move.”

“Move where?”

“Oh, yeah. You don’t know where the cellar is. Follow me.”

The boss let off a sound of disgust. “Mr. M., go with them. I don’t trust this guy.”

Nick wasn’t sure if the boss was referring to him or to his own guy. Fortunately Mr. B. didn’t seem like the sharpest knife in the drawer.

“C’mon,” Mr. B. said, as he strode toward a door Nick assumed led to the basement.

Mr. M. poked him in the back with his gun and snarled, “Move.”

***

Brandee hoped they weren’t being taken to an old, dank cellar with a dirt floor and cobwebs. She pictured a single, dangling lightbulb, which would cast frightening shadows.

At least if they found Katie alive down there, this wouldn’t be a total disaster. The boss had said, “Put them with the other one.”

Mr. B. slid off a simple chain-type lock and opened the door. He flicked a switch, and light revealed a wooden staircase.

Dear
God, if you exist, please get us out of this alive. I’ll go to church. I’ll work in a soup kitchen. I’ll do every good deed I can as long as we make it out of here safely.

At the bottom of the steps, the basement didn’t appear as bad as she had thought it would be. Sure, it was basic and looked like it was used for storage. It had a linoleum floor, wood-paneled walls, and fluorescent lights. Must have been finished in the sixties or seventies.

A rustle in the corner alerted her. Long, white hair draped over one end of a sleeping bag.

Katie!

The young girl rolled over and opened her eyes. “Brandee?”

“Oh, thank goodness you’re alive.” She rushed over to her niece. “Did they hurt you, honey?”

Katie sat up and shook her head. “No. But they won’t let me go home. They won’t even let me call Mom.”

Brandee kneeled and grasped her cousin, giving her a hug she hoped would be reassuring. Since Mr. M. still had his gun aimed at her, she didn’t know how much comfort she could offer.

Mr. B. retrieved some rope and asked, “You know her?”

Brandee didn’t want to give them any more information than necessary, so she just ignored him.

Mr. M. answered him. “Obviously. Lady, your reunion is touching and all, but it’s over. Go sit against that post.” He jerked his head toward a lally column. “And you…” he said to Nick, “sit next to the other pole.”

Nick did as he was asked.

“Hands clasped behind the pole,” Mr. M. barked.

Mr. B. immediately lashed Nick’s wrists together and then tied them to the support column.

Brandee’s heart sank.
This
is
all
my
fault. Why the hell didn’t I listen to him when he told me to be quiet?

She hesitated to leave her cousin’s side. “Are they feeding you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. Cheese and crackers.”

Crap. With my lactose intolerance, I’ll be less than the perfect hostage. Although with all the burping and farting, they might just let me go.

Then Mr. M. yelled, “Move.”

Brandee scrambled to the column she had been directed to and sat facing Katie.

“Aw, keeping an eye on your little friend, huh?” Mr. B. said. “I don’t think so. Face the other way.”

Brandee glared at him and summoned every ounce of courage she had. “No. She needs to see a friendly face. She’s just a little girl.”

She could tell from Mr. B.’s angry expression he was about to give her a hard time, until Mr. M. interjected, “Who cares which way she faces? Just tie her up.”

Mr. B. shot a look of resentment at Mr. M. and muttered, “Whatever.”

He jerked Brandee’s hands together. As he wound the rope around her wrists, she was afraid he was cutting off the circulation.

“Ow! Hey, that’s too tight. My hands are tingling already.”

Mr. M. came over and inspected his cohort’s work. “Ease up a bit. Her skin is turning purple.”

Mr. B. let go of her and shot to his feet. “If you don’t like the job I’m doing,
you
tie her up.”

Brandee tried to wriggle out of the ropes while they were arguing. Nick saw what she was doing and gave her a quick head shake.
Is
he
telling
me
not
to
take
advantage
of
the
momentary
distraction?

She quickly thought it through.
Two
big
guys
with
guns
would
overpower
me
in
a
second—or worse. I could be pistol-whipped or shot.
She sighed and stopped struggling.

At least they hadn’t made any move to take advantage of her sexually, and it looked like they had left Katie alone. She hoped beyond hope that Nick had a plan. The certainty on his face suggested he did.

Finally, Mr. B. rebound her wrists. She figured he knotted it a second or third time, because Mr. M. eventually said, “All right already. She’s secure. Now let’s tell the boss they’re not going anywhere and see what else he wants us to do.”

The two of them tromped up the stairs and closed the door behind them. A faint clacking sound meant they’d slid the chain lock in place.

“Nick, what do we do now?” Brandee whispered frantically.

“We wait. When they let down their guard and make a mistake I can exploit, I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Oh, my legal beagle… That’s it? That’s your big plan?”

“Who said I had a big plan? I didn’t ask them to drag us inside.”

Brandee hung her head. “I shouldn’t have followed you. This is my fault.”

“No argument there.”

She glared at him. Then an idea came to her. “Maybe in a few minutes I can ask to go to the bathroom. They’ll have to untie me for that, right?”

“Don’t count on it.”

“They let me go to the bathroom when I needed to,” Katie said.

“That’s probably because you weren’t giving them any trouble. And that was smart of you, by the way.”

Katie smiled.

“It’s worth a try, though, don’t you think?” Brandee pleaded.

“What are you going to do if they say yes and untie you?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “I think your plan needs a little work.”

“Well, it’s better than yours.”

Katie wriggled out of her sleeping bag. “Don’t fight. I’ll untie you.”

Brandee grinned. It seemed as if Nick was right and they’d made the mistake he was hoping for.

“Do you think you can, honey?” he asked.

“I can try. But if they catch me, they’ll be mad.”

“We won’t let them catch you. Untie me first,” Nick said. “If you hear the door open, just run back to your sleeping bag and pretend you’re asleep. I’ll say I slipped out of the ropes myself.”

“Okay.”

Katie kneeled behind Nick and tried to undo the knot. After several attempts she sat back on her heels and sniffed. “I can’t get it. It’s too tight.”

“That’s okay, honey. I think you loosened it.”

Brandee’s heart melted a little bit. Nick could have gotten frustrated or angry, but instead he took Katie’s feelings into account.

Katie sighed. “Let me try yours, Brandee.”

She walked around behind her cousin and said, “Oh, no. There’s a whole bunch of knots here. I’ll try anyway.”

“Thanks, sweetie, but I think I’m pretty much stuck.” What else could she say? If Katie couldn’t untie one knot, there was little chance of her freeing her from “a bunch” of them.
Why, oh why did I open my big mouth and anger Mr. Whatever-letter-he-was?

Katie pried and grunted. She had to give her little cousin credit for trying.

Suddenly the door at the top of the stairs rattled and Katie ran back to her sleeping bag. She was scooting down into it when footsteps sounded on the stairs. She managed to lay her head on the pillow and close her eyes before Mr. B., the younger guy with the scar, saw her.