True Nature (29 page)

“Not everyone is like Detective Scala,” Evan said. “There are men who would be secure enough in themselves not to be threatened by what you and Hunter share.”

Zoe darted him a harsh look, but as usual Evan was oblivious to her resentment. She returned her focus to Hunter. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious. I want to make some changes.”

“I thought you weren’t going to make any quick decisions.”

“I have to be realistic. The chimera won’t just go away. I have to find a way to live with the threat. Grandda moved to the mountains, but that’s not my style. I need a home and an office that offer protection. I’ve got to think like a predator. I must be alert at all times for danger and ready to fight for my life on a moment’s notice. This warehouse property includes a couple of acres and lots of trees. It’s a place where I could be myself when I wanted.”

“Be a cat, in other words,” Zoe said.

“Be a shifter,” he corrected.

She spoke slowly. “I understand that you need to live some place more private. But it’s hard to imagine clients coming to a bunker.”

“It won’t look like bunker,” Hunter protested. “And perhaps new clients might need our fortifications as well as our special talents for investigation and protection.”

Sitting back in her chair, Zoe gave him a steady look. “I don’t understand.”

“What we’re doing now is great,” Hunter said. “But helping Kelly, working to find Lizzie’s sister...that’s the kind of stuff we should be doing all the time. Maybe we can help Cyn and others like her.”

Zoe said nothing, but Hunter could see the hurt in her eyes.

He took a deep breath. “Here it is in a nutshell…we’ll all be investigators, in a firm that promises to find whatever you’re searching for—whether it’s a relative, a family inheritance, someone who has been missing for years, or the murderer in an unsolved case. Whatever you seek, we’ll find.”

Evan nodded, but Zoe hesitated. “You’re talking about a new partnership with the three of us?”

“There are forces at work here that dictate we’re all stuck together,” Hunter said. “Isn’t it practical to use our skills as a team? Evan is a security expert. While he’s working to protect me, he could consult on other cases, help us plan strategy.”

“Where would we advertise our services?” Zoe asked with acid in her tone. “In the weird classifieds of
Out There
?”

Hunter decided that was a good idea. “Why not?”

He had the latest issue of
Out There
. Since he now knew more about Cyn, he believed the publication was more than a tabloid full of alien abduction stories and Big Foot sightings.

“I’d like to be a part of something like this,” Evan spoke up. “It was great to help Kelly, and I’m enjoying searching for leads for Lizzie.”

“Come on, Zoe,” Hunter said. “You know you hate the other stuff we do. That’s why you’re putting so much effort into finding a sister that most people say never existed. That’s why you kept pushing to find a way to help Kelly. You love cases like this.”

“But we don’t get enough of these kinds of cases to pay the bills.”

“Fortunately, thanks to Grandda, that’s not something we have to worry about.”

That set Zoe off. She stood. “I’m not living off your family’s fortune. I make my own way in the world.”

“I think we’d get plenty of cases to make a living.” Evan looked at Zoe. “Besides, your primary job is the same as mine—protecting Hunter.”

“Oh, and I’m so good at that,” she returned. “I’m able to predict what’s going to happen, but not in time to help him.”

“You will,” Evan said.

She brushed him off with a flip of her hand. “So what if I agree that we change the focus of the practice and move the office? That doesn’t mean I need to live in an armed compound.”

“It would be easier to protect you,” Evan pointed out.

“And that should be the point of my life—making things easier for you?” she demanded.

“It would make me feel better if you were closer,” Hunter said.

Zoe rubbed at her face, looking exhausted. “But there’s my home and Bernie next door…”

“You’d see Bernie all the time. There’s more to this, Zoe. I want to search for other shapeshifters. According to Evan and my father, the rest of the MacRae clan will be contacting me soon. But there must be more of them out there that we don’t know about. Cyn said there are many who guard against the Killins. I don’t know who they are, but I’d like to meet them. Maybe we could connect and take on Michael Killin as a structured group.”

“Is that all we’re going to do?” Zoe argued. “Just spend our time as vigilantes looking for cat people and werewolves?”

Hunter swallowed his impatience. “I don’t want to dedicate my life finding other shapeshifters. Nor do I want us working only jobs with supernatural connections. We’ll do it between other cases. I thought this would mean more freedom for you to pursue work you love.”

Zoe sighed as she sat down again. “It’s a lot to think about.”

“But you will think about it?”

Before she could reply, Evan added, “I want to work with you, Zoe. I can help you refine your gift.”

Zoe sucked in a breath, and Hunter feared an explosion.

He was grateful when his phone went off. “It’s Cyn,” he said.

“I need to see you,” she said without preamble.

“You can come to my place.”

“That’s too risky. Meet me in a public place. Come to the mall closest to the coffee shop where we met.”

Hunter calculated. She sounded fearful that someone was listening. “But where—”

“Think about it and you’ll know where. Second level, near the middle, as soon as you can. I’ll find you.”

The phone clicked off. “I think she’s in trouble.”

Evan mobilized his forces to provide eyes and ears against chimera.

An hour later, Hunter walked into the mall. Evan and Zoe trailed him at a discreet distance. The mall was crowded with shoppers. Valentine’s Day decorations were displayed in every corner.

Hunter scented Cyn not long after he exited the escalator on the second floor. She wore a bulky coat and had covered her flame-colored hair with a knit cap. He spotted her at a jewelry kiosk near the center of the mall. She tipped her chin at him and walked away. He fell in step beside her.

“What’s up?”

In answer, she handed him a small box, an innocuous looking silver foil package. Hunter lifted the lid and saw a square school photograph of a dark-haired young boy.

“My son,” Cyn said. “Look under.”

Hunter picked up the photo. Beneath it lay a claw. Though small, it was curved and sharp and lethal.

Cyn took the package back from Hunter and slipped it in her pocket.

“Someone sent you this?” he demanded.

Cyn paused at a glass railing that overlooked the first floor. Only then did Hunter notice she was limping. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head and darted glances all around. “I’m fine. They found my apartment last night. They were waiting when I got home from teaching a late class.”

Hunter knew who “they” were.

“I ran after I walked in on them,” Cyn continued. “They chased me, caught me in the hall, and pulled me down the stairwell to the parking garage. I got away once, but tripped and fell. I hurt my knee, and they jumped me.”

Hunter wanted to pepper her with questions.

She drew a deep breath. “Two of them held me while the other delivered this package. They said you couldn’t help me.”

“Me?”

“They called you The MacRae.”

“You’re sure they’re chimera? Did they shift?”

“No, but I smelled them. They left me at the bottom of the stairs.” She shook her head, as if to erase the memory. “I didn’t go back to my apartment. I left my car in the garage. I called a friend from a pay phone, and he came for me.”

“We’ll protect you.”

“I have to get to my boy. A colleague at school who understands is taking my classes for the semester. I’m going to John. He and my parents may have to move.”

“The chimera could trail you,” Hunter said. “It’s not safe for any of you. Let me help—”

“He’s my son, and my parents and I will protect him the same way we always have.” Cyn walked away.

Hunter caught her by the elbow. “You can’t just leave like this.”

“I wanted you to know. You’re not safe. They know everything you’re doing.”

“High-tech surveillance, maybe,” he muttered.

“Or magic?” She arched her eyebrow. “There’s a new wickedness in the air. Those of us who feel it are frightened. I have to be with my family. You should see to yours.”

Cyn pulled away, tugging her hat down and threading her way through the shoppers.

This time Hunter let her go. His chest clenched with fury.

“What did she want?” Evan asked.

Hunter shrugged him off. “Where’s Zoe?” He looked around, relieved when he spotted her conservative gray raincoat moving toward them. His hands shook as he pulled out his cell and punched in a number.

“What is it?” Evan demanded.

Not answering, Hunter spoke as soon as he heard Marie’s voice on the line. “I need my father.”

As he knew she would, Marie put him through to Stirling’s private line immediately.

“Hunter?” his father asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Are you okay? What about Meagan and Mother?”

“Your sister is sitting here in my office, going over some company reports,” Stirling replied. “It’s Thursday, so your Mother is no doubt at Elizabeth Arden. What’s wrong?”

“Chymera threatened a friend of mine. My first thought was for the three of you.”

“We’re fine, but are you?”

“Yes,” Hunter replied.

As he clicked off the phone a metallic gleam caught his eye. On the walkway directly across from them, a little girl in a pink sweater chased a cluster of heart-shaped balloons that had escaped her grasp. Apparently caught by a current of air, the balloons soared straight to the skylight above them and burst with three tiny little pops.

Hunter realized he was just as vulnerable.

Chapter 24

I was exhausted, but didn’t sleep well. Even staying at Hunter’s, where I knew I was well guarded, I couldn’t relax. How could I rest after what Cyn had said?

Early the next morning, I gave up and went back to work on Lizzie’s case at Hunter’s dining room table.

One of the contacts that Carl Kowalski had given Evan had led to a list of young doctors practicing at the Hayden Clinic near the date of Lizzie’s birth. Yesterday, before Cyn called, I had been exploring a Dr. Blake Taylor.

I clicked back to a photograph taken as few years back that I found of a doctor by that name with a very pregnant Lady Punk. The picture had been taken at a benefit, and he was listed as the rap star’s OB GYN, “a very important man in my life,” according to the quote from the star.

The man in the photograph was the right age—early 50’s. He was blond and handsome, had kept himself in great shape and perhaps had a nip or tuck made to his face. As I followed more links to his name, I found a variety of newspaper articles, photos, and information. Blake was a man who made an effort to get into the news. He attended everything from the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra to the gala Oscar parties given by Vanity Fair.

His reputation as a fertility doctor was equally documented. He was in the forefront of the field and listed Dr. Hayden among his mentors. There were a number of articles from his patients, who adored the handsome doctor. As I moved from photograph to photograph, something nagged at me. He was familiar. Had I met him at party with my father or at Hunter’s parents?

I paused on a headshot of Dr. Taylor on his practice’s website. His features were vaguely Nordic, and his eyes a deep blue. Vivid blue.

I recalled another pair of blue eyes, equally as crystalline, and just as memorable.

Almost holding my breath, I checked the information on Dr. Taylor again. He was a graduate of Princeton, class of 1978. Several more clicks of the mouse and I had a photo from Dr. Taylor’s university days. His hair had been darker then, more of a light brown than blond, but those blue eyes were undeniable.

I downloaded the photo and put it in Photoshop to enlarge it.

“What are you doing?”

I jumped at the sound of Evan’s voice. Though it was barely six in the morning, he was dressed for the day, looking as if he had slept deeply and well.

“Let me show you something.” I sorted through other files until I found what I was looking for. I pulled up a photo of Lizzie Howerton taken at her debutante ball, then enlarged Dr. Taylor’s college photograph and placed them side by side on the monitor.

“What do you think?” I tapped the screen.

“They could be brother and sister,” he said.

“Or father and daughter.” I let out a sigh. “Oh my God, I think I’ve just found out how Dr. Hayden made all of those women pregnant. It was the young doctors.”

“What?”

“They must have given him their sperm.”

“Christ,” Evan said. “Are you sure?”

“No, but there’s someone who can tell us. It’s time to let Lizzie call Dr. Hayden’s wife and demand some explanations.”

****

The San Remos, where Elaine Hayden Richards lived, was beautiful, even on this cloudy, cold day. Watching the limos and well-dressed, well-coifed residents come and go, I could almost smell the money in the air.

Lizzie asked us to wait for her outside so we could go up together. Earlier today, I met with the younger woman to show her Dr. Taylor’s photographs and tell her my suspicions.

She took the news well. In fact, she wasn’t even that surprised. “I always wondered why I was nothing like Daddy,” she said with a sniff. “It’s kind of a relief to know we’re not related.”

She called Mrs. Richards to tell the older woman what we’d discovered. Mrs. Richards had said nothing except that Lizzie should come to her apartment at two p.m.

Evan and Hunter joined me. Lizzie needed an attorney present, and of course, Evan went wherever Hunter did.

My trepidation grew as my gut told me it wasn’t going to go well with Mrs. Richards. I tried to focus my second sense, but all I felt was a fuzzy aura of danger.

Lizzie was sure it would be her happy ending.