Silent Doll (32 page)

He gripped my chin and tilted my head up so I had to look in his eyes. I hadn’t realized how bright a shade of blue they were.

“You’ve done nothing wrong or shameful,” he said. “It’s not about you; it’s about this person’s perception of you. You can’t make them view you as you view yourself.”

I grinned. “Because if people could, no woman would ever turn you down and your ego would suffocate us all.”

He blinked. I waited for my joke to register; after a few moments his serious face cracked into a grin. “I would be a king,” he said.

“You’ll just have to settle for being named after a prince.”

“You know the origin of my name?”

“Sure. It’s the same family as mine, right? My mom was very into old myths.”

“Sounds like she was a very smart lady.”

“In some ways she was.” I didn’t need to add that she was dumb in others, in some things that had really counted, really mattered. Why did some people think that to protect someone they had to be ignorant of the danger they were in? If my mother had been alive at that moment I would have asked her.

“I’ve got to go. People to see, places to go.”

“Lives to save?” he asked, opening the door for me.

“Hopefully not tonight.”

He waved to me when I made it to the outer door. I waved back, then used my right hand to wedge the door open, pushing through into the corridor. I felt happier when I got outside and could smell fresh—well, fresh-ish-air again. I pulled out my phone, slid through the options, and called the office.

“Farbanks Investigations office. How may we help you tonight?”

“Trinket, it’s me.”

“Miss Cassandra!” Trinket always sounded very pleased to hear from me. I was trying, without success, to get her to stop calling me Miss.

“I feel like doing something. Any calls or cases?”

“You’re the first call all night. If you want something to do, you had an invite tacked to your fridge for some kind of party at the Full Moon bar.”

“Oh, crap, right—thanks for reminding me!” Thinking about that invitation for a moment, I wondered: did I really want to expose myself to the possibility of drunken, fur flying, fights to the death bouts? Well, it beat staying home and watching Tevo-ed episodes of
Thirst
—which was an other side slightly pornographic
Melrose Place
with fangs. It didn’t matter what side you were on, vampires made for good TV.

“I think I’ll head on over to that,” I said. “Why don’t you call it a night and do something off your list?”

Trinket’s list, once she’d grasped the concept, would take forever to get through. She kept adding new things.

“I’ve added a couple more things,” she said thoughtfully. “Some of them might be doable in an evening. Thank you, Miss Cassandra, I’ll get right on that.”

“Trink, you really can just call me Cassandra,” I said.

“Yes, I know. I just choose not to.”

I could imagine her sticking out that little tongue out at the phone. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why she and Incarra didn’t get on better. They both had the ability to annoy the hell out of me at any given moment. Thinking of that brought Incarra to mind.

“Did Incarra call?”

“I don’t know,” Trinket said, “I haven’t checked the house phone. If she has, do you want me to call you back?”

“No, it’s okay, it’s not important. I’ll see you later.”

I would, as Trinket for the most part was living with me or in premises I owned. She had moved things about in the office to make a little nook for herself—a chair with a small table and an extra phone on it. A pile of books by the side. One item on her list had been to read all the classics, and as she didn’t sleep she was a good way through them. I wondered fleetingly why Incarra hadn’t called. I didn’t stay mad for long. She should have known after two days she’d be fine. Perhaps she was still freaking out about the whole seeing ghosts thing. Or maybe she was freaked out by seeing me being flung across a room and nearly buried alive under a ton of bricks. I hadn’t even thought to get her reaction to everything that had gone on.

I almost called her but I decided against it—I didn’t want to push. She’d contact me when she felt she was ready to. We were still friends, after all. At least, I was hoping we were. I put my phone into my jeans pocket and started a slow walk toward the community, not really sure if I was as in a party mood as I should be.

Chapter Thirty-One

The Full Moon bar wasn’t exactly a high class establishment, but it gave off a good vibe. The bright blue awning and a small painted sign by the door advertised that it was a bar. The door in the wall was a simple wooden thing with a porthole window that looked completely innocuous. The door was unguarded, no bouncer to keep out any stupid drunk humans. I guess they worked on the principle that anyone who’d enter into a werewolf bar would be too scared to cause trouble or too drunk to inflict anything of a worrying scale. I’d chosen to use the bar’s street entrance, because I didn’t want to go through the main gate security—well liked and well known in the community or not—they would require that I state my business. I pushed open the door and stepped into a paneled corridor. To either side of the inside of the door were two baying wolves carved in white stone which were pretty impressive.

The windowless room was lit by strip lights over mounted pictures of movie and TV werewolves—some of them were even autographed. I smiled to myself—this was a real tourist entrance. People who came here could go away telling their friends they’d been brave enough to enter a werewolf bar.

I followed the faded red carpet down the lines of pictures. About halfway down was a fire exit, which I was pretty sure would take me out into what was probably a beer garden. I hadn’t seen it, but I had been almost positive the side closest to the walk had been fenced off rather than bricked up. The door at the opposite end of the corridor I’d come in through didn’t have a cute little porthole window in it, it was a solid padded affair—like the door into some club. I heard the faintest traces of music coming from the other side.

I pushed the door open and emerged next to a jukebox playing a raucous tune. A few people were dancing. I ignored the suspicious stares as I crossed the room, looking around– most people knew my name, but not all of them could recognize me by sight. The floor was polished wood, the walls an earthy green color. A couple of weres, dressed in biker leathers, stood at a pool table, chalking their cues with menacing deliberation.

A man at the bar slowly lifted his nose, ostentatiously sniffing the air, then turned to smile at me.

“Cassandra,” Simian called over the music, “get over here. I’ll buy you a drink.”

My name circulated around the room in a flurry of whispers; the dark stares turned considerably more cautious. As I ignored it and walked over to sit beside Simian, he smiled, taking a sip of his beer.

“Thank you for that,” I said, “but be aware I’m still mad at you.”

“I got that you weren’t pleased with me from the voicemails. I guess I should say I’m sorry.”

“It would help.”

“I’m sorry.” He took another sip of his beer. “I just thought, and still think, that you and DJ would make a wonderful couple.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion. But you’re wrong.” I cleared my throat. “Speaking of, where is our host? I’d like that drink.”

Simian grinned, leaned forward, and blew a breath over my hair.

“What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously.

“Just circulating your scent. He’ll be here as soon as he gets a whiff.”

A moment later, the door to the back slammed open and DJ entered the main part of the bar. When he spied me sitting on the stool, he vaulted over the bar to land beside me. He beamed at me as though I was one of his favorite people. I saw what LeBron had meant—he was gone on me.

“Cassandra, so glad you could make it. What would you like?”

“Just a Coke, please?”

“But it’s a party,” he said, spreading his arms—which showed off the muscles under his tight T-shirt. I repressed a sigh.

“She said a Coke, David, don’t push,” Simian said.

DJ scowled at the reprimand, but went back around the bar and poured me a coke. I reached for it with my right hand; his gaze finally tracked to the sling.

“What’s wrong with your arm?”

I pulled back my right hand and picked the drink up with my left.

“Nothing,” I said. I took a sip, then put my glass back down on the bar. I slipped my arm out of the sling and stretched it.

“Then why the sling?”

I was about to answer when the community side door to the bar opened. LeBron walked in, his arm around Brie’s shoulders. I shoved my arm back into the sling and wrapped my right hand around my glass. He greeted me with an over the top wave, as though making sure everyone in the bar saw that we were friends.

“Hey, Cassandra,” he said, then caught sight of my arm. “Hey—I heard you got hurt. How you doing?”

“Mending, thanks. Want to join us in a drink?”

LeBron pulled Brie in a little tighter and she snuggled under his arm. “Sure. DJ, can I have a pint? What do you want, kitten?”

I caught myself just before I made an audible gagging sound at that cutesy nickname.

“Oh, I’ll have a white wine spritzer, soda, not lemonade,” Brie said. DJ pulled a pint from the tap and started making Brie’s drink.

“Cassandra was just about to tell us what happened,” DJ said, putting the spritzed drink on the bar. Brie took it with a smile.

“No, I wasn’t,” I said. I took a sip of my coke while LeBron dug through his jacket pockets, muttering to himself about wandering wallets.

“Put it on my tab,” Brie said, knocking LeBron with her hip. He smiled down at her.

“Thanks, hun.”

I was hoping the little aside would have taken the conversation away from me, but DJ leaned on the bar and said,

“So, what happened, Michael?”

I glared at my drink, wondering if I could get away with chucking it in his face.

“Way I hear it,” LeBron said with relish, “she dislocated her shoulder and broke it in two places when a wall got pushed on top of her. It’s the talk of the station.”

I grumbled under my breath. DJ gave me a raised brow; he’d seen that my arm was fine. He said, “I heard that the woman that attacked Cassandra is headed to prison.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good.” DJ said. “I was worried that I’d have to go out and avenge you.”

I raised my head and glared at him. LeBron looked between us.

“I don’t think she wants to talk about this,” LeBron said, belatedly aware.

DJ gave him a look that had Brie tugging LeBron away to meet someone across the room. Once he was gone, DJ leaned across the bar and said, in a low voice, “If your arm’s fine, why are you wearing a sling?”

“DJ—”

“Wait. Oh—You’re still playing human?”

“If I am, that’s my business and none of yours.”

He scowled at me. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. Are you ashamed?”

“No!”

“Sounds like you’re ashamed to me.”

I used my right hand to point at him.

“You listen to me, David Jacob Tanner, it’s my secret and I’ll decide who gets to know it and when. You do not get to judge me. You’ve had a lifetime to deal with what you are, I’ve only had a few months. Back the fuck off!”

He growled at me, then said, “I just worry about you.”

Before I could say anything, or throw my drink in his face, someone shouted for a pitcher of beer and he had to go back to work. I glared at Simian, who was silently sipping his beer.

“Still think we’d make a great couple?” I snapped.

“I’m beginning to think that David thinks you already are. He’s become very intense about you.”

“You understand how that’s mostly your fault, right?”

His only answer was to frown and sip his beer. I downed my coke, wondering if this had really been better than watching other people’s drama.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder; I spun to face a slight man with cropped black hair and dark eyes.

“Yes?” I snapped.

“Err,” he said, a little nervously. I tried to soften my tone and expression.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

“Would you dance with me? Please?” He looked at me hopefully, and I realized that he was only in his late teens. I looked at Simian, who shrugged as if to say, what do you want me to do? I turned back to look at the young man. Over his shoulder, I saw his mates waiting for him to fail. I sighed and stood up.

“Sure, but I’ve only got one arm so be careful with me all right?”

He beamed at me like I’d made his whole day and led me out to the dance floor to the beat of a tune I didn’t recognize. It started off kind of slow, so he got to hold me close. I saw the disbelief on his friends’ faces and had to smile. One little dance would make this boy the envy of his friends for a while.

I was suddenly glad to be doing this for him, and wished someone had been so kind to me in high school.