chapter 18
Angie landed on the couch with a thud and kicked off her shoes. “Is it my imagination, or was today weirder than usual?”
“It was weird,” Brandee answered without hesitation. She flopped onto the lounging part of the sofa and leaned against the fluffiest pillow.
“Good. I mean, I’m glad it’s not my imagination. I think I’ve lived in the city long enough to distinguish between regular weird and really weird. You know?”
“Lots of things seemed odd when I first moved here to go to school. But after a few weeks, nothing surprised me anymore.”
“Yeah, that’s because you went to art school with the freaks.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m just saying it took me a little longer to become shockproof. For instance, today at the bar a grown man had wide, bright yellow streaks in his hair. That would have struck me as bizarre when I was a kid, growing up in the burbs, but all I said to the guy today was, ‘Great hair. Where do you get it done?’”
Brandee chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed him too. Nice-looking guy. So where did he say his stylist was?”
“He didn’t. He said it was natural.”
“Are you kidding me?” Brandee laughed. “Yeah, right. And I’ll bet he can fly too.”
“I don’t know about that, but I took a good look at the roots and didn’t see any. I really want to know where he goes for his color. I like my highlights, but you can tell they’re not natural. Even five minutes after my hairdresser finishes with me, I have dark blond roots.”
“I hope he comes back. Then we can keep an eye on that regrowth. If the roots never show, maybe he’s telling the truth. I’m beginning to believe all kinds of crazy things.”
Angie waved the comment away. “He was the least of today’s weirdness. What was with that woman who talked about vampires and whatnot? First she just hung around without ordering anything, and later she was whining to Sadie. Did Nick ever tell you how he knew her or what mental hospital she escaped from?”
“No. He said they were just acquaintances. Apparently her husband witnessed a crime or something and had to talk to the police. So maybe she was talking about the crime. I didn’t ask Nick the details. I just wanted to end the conversation and get back to work.”
“Yeah, you two had a couple of intense-looking discussions. What were you talking about?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Angie reared back and stared at her. “But you tell me everything!”
“I-I shouldn’t.”
Angie tossed her hands in the air. “Oh, great. Another foul-weather friend.”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems whenever a woman finds a boyfriend, he replaces me as best buddy and confidant. Suddenly the woman has no time for me, she starts keeping secrets—”
“That won’t happen with us.”
“Oh yeah? Then what were you and Nick arguing about?”
“He wanted to know what I said to you, and I said it was private. How hypocritical would I be if I told you about my conversations with him?”
“Not to worry. That’s the best friend’s privilege.”
“I don’t think…oh, heck. I might as well tell you what I can.”
Before she had a chance to open her mouth, the door buzzed.
Angie hopped up. “Who could that be?”
Brandee had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who it was. “Don’t answer it right away. Better yet, let me.”
Angie halted. “Why? Do you think it’s Nick?”
“Yes.” She levered herself up and crawled off the lounger.
Angie shrugged. “Whatever. You can invite him up if you want to. I’m going to my bedroom to read.”
Brandee waited until Angie left the room and the buzzer sounded a second time. She pushed the intercom button and yawned loudly, then she tried to make her voice sound as if she’d just been woken out of a sound sleep. “Who is it?”
“Nick.”
“What do you want?”
“To come up. I have something to tell you about your cousin.”
Shit. If he needed her help with Katie and she turned him away, she’d never forgive herself. She buzzed him in before she could talk herself out of it.
When he knocked on her door, she realized her little sleepy ruse would have been more effective if it was later at night and she was wearing pajamas. Oh well. Too late now. She opened the door and he strode in.
He looked her up and down. “I thought I got you out of bed.”
“No. I fell asleep on the lounger.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Really?”
Crap. We promised to be honest with each other. “No, but I am tired.”
He snorted. “We need to talk.”
“If it’s really about Katie, fine. Have a seat.”
“I’ll start with that.”
“Oh, my ulterior motive…I knew it.” She took a seat on the sofa.
Nick eased himself into the armchair. “Look, I have to go to New York for a couple of days. It’s for the case. I thought we could have that other talk before I leave. I want you to have peace of mind.”
That makes sense. “Okay. Go ahead and tell me what you have to say.”
He cleared his throat. “First I need to know what you think you heard and what you believe or disbelieve.”
“Sheesh. I have no idea what I believe anymore. I didn’t think I’d ever believe we had brownies in the bar or that you were a werewolf. But I’ve seen those things with my own eyes. Now I have a question for you.”
“Okay. I suppose that’s only fair.”
She rolled her eyes. “Gee, ya think? Anyway, my question is…if Anthony is a vampire—and I’m not saying I believe that—or if there are any of these other things the crazy lady mentioned, does that mean the employees are in danger?”
“First of all, let’s call them ‘beings’ instead of things. They may not be human beings, but they’re real and they have feelings too. Second, she’s not crazy and her name is Morgaine.”
“Whoa. Back up. You said she’s not crazy? They’re real?”
“Some paranormal beings are real. You’ve already seen that for yourself.”
“Yeah, but I’m not in danger from brownies as long as I ignore them or leave them a treat if I want them to clean the place, right?”
“I don’t know much about brownies. Never met one. But if that’s what Sadie told you, I’d believe her. She knows more about what goes on here than most of us give her credit for.”
“Is she human?”
“Yes. One hundred percent. She’s a good example of how safe you are. If she hangs around as much as she does, the clientele must be perfectly harmless. Right?”
Brandee mulled it over. Sadie had a good little business going there. Would she put herself in danger just to make a few bucks and drink for free? Uh, maybe.
“Look, Nick. I’m more open-minded than most, but come on. I need to know the rest of the staff is safe. Are there any paranormal employees? And if not, don’t they deserve to know the truth and make the choice to work there or not based on this important info?”
Nick took a deep breath. “You know Anthony. He wouldn’t put any of you in danger. Hell, he came looking for you when he thought you were in trouble. He’d stick his neck out for any one of you. I think you’re safer at Boston Uncommon than at a normal bar.”
Her brows knit. “If you say so. So what was that business about Anthony being a vampire? Does he drink blood? Where does he get it?”
“Whoa. Slow down. It’s not my place to talk about Anthony. It’s up to him to answer your questions in whatever way he sees fit.”
She leaned toward him. “In other words, there is something paranormal about him, and you don’t want to tell me what it is.”
“I never said that.”
“Come on, Nick. Honesty, remember?”
“And yet you want your personal business with friends to remain private. Doesn’t that go both ways?”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Maybe I’ll ask him if I can be sure Ruxandra’s not around.”
“This is your lucky day. Ruxandra’s in jail.”
Brandee’s surprise was only overshadowed by her relief. “What did she do?”
“Shoplifting. I can’t talk about the details, mainly because I don’t know any, but I doubt it’ll go to trial.”
Brandee let out a surprised laugh. “Shoplifting? Ruxandra? I knew she was nuts, but why did she have to shoplift? Was she trying to fill her closet with another pair of designer shoes? Maybe she had to add a fur coat to close an empty space?”
Nick rose. “Who knows why she did it—if she did it. Innocent until proven stupid, right?”
“Hmmm…Sometimes I wonder if I’m innocent or stupid.”
He took her hand and helped her up. “You’re neither. You are one amazing, incredible, beautiful woman who I’m lucky to have in my life. I’ll call you from New York.”
“You’ll be careful, right?”
He smiled. “Always. By the way, there’s another thing I forgot to tell you about my unusualness. Is that a word?”
“Oh nuts. What is it?”
“Don’t worry. It’s a good thing. My kind is very hard to kill. We don’t even stay injured for long.”
“Are you saying you’re immortal?”
“We’re not immortal, but we age very slowly.”
“So, that means you must be a lot older than you look.”
“Uh, yeah. You could say that.”
“So, am I dating a guy who could be my father’s age? My grandfather’s?”
“Try your great-grandfather’s. This year I turn one hundred and one.”
“Get out.”
“I’m not quite ready yet…I should at least get a kiss before I go.”
“No, I just meant it as an expression, like ‘get out of town.’”
“I’m about to.”
She rolled her eyes.
He chuckled. “I knew what you meant.” He took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly. When their lips separated, he tucked her head under his chin. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“When I get back, we’ll go to the museum.”
She grinned. “Really? You’d go with me?”
“Of course. You deserve a treat after today. I’m sorry ‘the crazy lady,’ as you called her, upset you. She really was in the right place—although I can’t tell you about her either.”
“Well, if you put it that way, maybe you can buy me lunch too.”
“Definitely.”
She tipped up her chin and he kissed her again. “I’ll see you in a couple days,” he said and left.
As soon as the door closed, a pale-looking Angie peered around the corner. “Is he gone?”
Startled, Brandee jumped. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard some…things.”
Uh-oh. “What things?”
“Things that will keep me from falling asleep—ever again.”
“Ange. You’d better come over here and sit down.”
Angie moved hesitantly, sat on the sofa, and folded her hands in her lap.
“What did you hear exactly?” Brandee asked.
“Something about Anthony being a vampire, brownies cleaning the bar, Ruxandra shoplifting, and your boyfriend being a werewolf.”
Brandee flopped onto the sofa next to her and blew out a deep breath. “So, basically the whole conversation.”
“Yeah.”
“How could you hear all of that from your bedroom?”
“I was on my way to the kitchen for a drink. You asked if Anthony was a vampire, and I remembered you said the crazy lady was talking about vampires, so—”
“So you stopped right there and listened to every word.”
“Brandee, how could I not? You wanted to know if we were in danger, so why wouldn’t I?”
Brandee covered Angie’s hands with hers. “Did you hear the part about how we’re safer at Boston Uncommon than at a normal bar?”
Angie withdrew her hand and began biting her nails.
“Stop that. You’ve been doing really well not biting your nails. Don’t start now. You’re almost ready for a manicure.”
“Why would I care about a manicure if I’m about to die?”
Brandee leaned back and studied her friend. Angie’s face reminded her of a child who had had a nightmare and needed to be assured there were no monsters under her bed. If only Angie were a child, Brandee could make up an antimonster spray.
“We’re not about to die. How long have we worked there? A year? If something bad was going to happen, wouldn’t it have happened by now?”
Angie shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe Anthony was getting his blood from Ruxandra, but now that she’s out of the picture…”
“I need to talk to Anthony.”
Angie put her hand on Brandee’s knee. “Don’t bother. If he wanted us to know, he would have told us. And if he doesn’t want us to know, wouldn’t he just lie?”
“When has Anthony ever lied?”
“I don’t know, but come on. If you were a vampire, wouldn’t you lie about it?”
“I’m not even sure there are such things as vampires. Like I said, I need to talk to him before I assume anything. Do you believe they exist?”
“I saw a documentary about people who adopt the lifestyle. I’ve never seen Anthony during the day—ever. Claudia is always in charge when we open. Do you think he sleeps in a coffin?”
Brandee laughed. “Are you kidding me? You’ve been watching too many movies.”
“Hey, some of those people in the documentary did.”
“Well, so what if he does? It’s none of our business where he sleeps—or with whom, right? I thought you were as open-minded and tolerant as I was.”
“Was?”
“Am,” Brandee corrected. “I am.”
“I guess you must be, if your boyfriend is a werewolf. By the way, where did you get that purple bruise on your shoulder?”
Brandee immediately yanked up her blouse’s collar closer to her neck. “It’s nothing.”
Angie crossed her arms. “Then let me see it.”
“No.”
“If it’s really nothing, why won’t you let me see it?”
Brandee had to think fast. How could she deflect the conversation without outright lying? “It’s my business what kind of tattoo I get, isn’t it? Besides, you’re one to talk. You have a tattoo.”
“Yeah, it’s a butterfly at the bottom of my back. No one sees it.”
“Some people call that a tramp stamp, you know.”
Angie gasped. “Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Are you calling me a tramp?”
Brandee hesitated a moment too long.
Angie’s lips thinned. “Nice work deflecting the conversation and pissing off your roommate at the same time, Brandee.”
“I wasn’t. At least I didn’t mean to.”
Angie rose. “I’m going to bed.”
“It’s only eight o’clock.”
“I’m tired. Good night.” She stormed off to her bedroom.
Brandee didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.
***
Thanks to Captain Hunter, Nick was receiving the full cooperation of the New York Police Department in Manhattan. He’d already identified two of the suspects—“boss” and “Mr. M.”—and after some intense interrogation, they finally gave up the name of the person who’d hired them: Martin Rossi.
Though Rossi had been a fake name, Nick had enough info to track the guy to his home in the Hamptons.
Thrilled by a real ID, he decided to relax a moment and call Brandee. He missed her like crazy and figured she might be missing him too.
“Hello, beautiful. How’s my favorite waitress?”
A long pause on the other end of the phone started the hair on his arms tingling. “Brandee, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Angie. She took off.”
Nick raked his fingers through his hair. “Shit. Why?”
“She may have overheard our conversation the other night. I tried to reassure her, but she just didn’t act the same way after that. She went to bed early and mad. That’s not like her. When I woke up yesterday, she was gone.”
“People sometimes act angry when they’re really afraid. You do that too sometimes.”
“You noticed that, huh?”
“Yup. You didn’t confirm anything we talked about, did you?”
“Um, not really.”
F*ck. Mother Nature is going to fry my lying ass. Nick tried to control his voice. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I told her I couldn’t elaborate on anything I had promised to keep a secret. It might have been better for all of us if I had.”
“But you would have broken your promise if you did. Is Anthony out looking for her?”
“Yes, but so far he’s had no luck. He tracked her to the bus station, then lost her scent there.”
“Her scent?” Nick wondered what Anthony had said, if she confronted him.
“Yeah. I guess the crazy lady wasn’t so crazy after all. Anthony told me all about himself. He wouldn’t confirm any of the other stuff, though.”
“What other stuff?”
“Wizards, witches, shapeshifters, that stuff.”
“Are you okay?”
“For some reason, I am. I don’t know if Anthony did his hypnosis thing on me or not, but he convinced me I was perfectly safe like you said, even safer than at a normal bar.”
“What do you mean you don’t know if he hypnotized you or not?”
“Well, he said he didn’t. He offered to—again. But I’d rather know an awful truth instead of believing a pretty lie.”
Nick didn’t quite know what to say. On one hand, he was proud as hell of her. Anthony had told her he was a vampire, and she didn’t flip out. On the other, Anthony had told her he was a vampire. He was sure Anthony must have impressed upon her how important keeping that secret was, but Nick didn’t dare leave anything to chance.
“You’re keeping his secret just as vigilantly as you’re keeping mine, right?”
“Of course. How can you even ask that?”
“Sorry.” What else could he say? Anything more would sound as if he didn’t trust her. Mother Nature was the bigger threat. What a choice. Being dropped into an active volcano or solving an important case? It’s not like I can solve anything if she fries me in lava.
“I’m coming home.”
“Did you solve the case?”
“For now. At least I have the information I need.”
“Good. So Katie’s out of danger?”
“I didn’t say that. I need to talk to her parents and the Boston police, but I’d rather do it in person. Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll get this guy.”
“I hope so. Be careful, okay? I couldn’t stand anything happening to you. Especially because…” Her voice trailed off.
“Because?”
“Well, I wasn’t very nice to you at the bar a couple days ago. When you didn’t call yesterday, I was afraid I had blown it. I thought maybe after you thought about it, you decided I wasn’t worth the trouble and wanted to break up with me.”
“There’s nothing you can do to make me leave you.”
“Really?”
“Honest and truly.”
He heard her sigh on the other end of the phone. “Hurry home.”
***
Mother Nature ambled into Boston Uncommon and took a good look around. It appeared fairly ordinary—like any other neighborhood watering hole. Low lighting gave it an intimate feel. Several high stools surrounded a well-polished wooden bar. A few tables took up some of the floor space between the bar and the booths. It wasn’t very large. It would only seat about thirty if it was packed.
She slid onto a stool. It might have been difficult had she’d worn her flowing robes, but she dressed in twentieth-century casual clothing. Big blond hair and a white suit with shoulder pads. The last time she had been out in the world was the eighties, so she hoped her getup was still in style.
A male bartender spotted her and came right over. “Wow. You look just like that chick on Dynasty reruns. What was her name? Crystal something?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh. Sorry. What would you like?”
“I’d like to get polluted.” She smiled to herself. Mother Nature walks into a bar and says, “I want to get polluted.” All I need is a punch line.
“I hope you’re not driving.”
She snorted. “I don’t use cars—ever. Now get me…” She glanced around at what the other patrons were drinking. A girl at the end of the bar held a martini glass with bright green liquid in it. Green is my favorite color. I’ll go with that. “One of those green things.” She pointed to the girl’s drink.
“One appletini coming right up.”
Mother Nature turned to the guy beside her. “So, what’s your story?”
“I’m kind of new in town. The name’s Drake Cameron. I’m a firefighter.” He stuck out his hand.
She grasped it. His hand was so hot it could have burned her, and she dropped it right away.
“Yikes, you’re hot.”
He smiled. “Thank you. You’re not bad yourself.”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean hot-looking, you idiot. I meant actually scorching.”
He lowered his voice. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“I’ll survive. You must be a dragon. And you need to get laid.”
His eyebrows rose. “You know?”
“Well, duh. Your skin is excessively warm and your name is Drake. Plus you have those yellow streaks.”
“Yeah, it’s a family trait.”
Who do you think gave them to you, stupid? “So, new in town, huh? Where did you come from?”
“My family is from Scotland and Ireland, originally. I came here when I was a lad. Now I’m back for good.”
“I see.” Why was I not aware of a dragon in Boston? And what’s he doing here? I thought they were all in places that reminded them of home—like the mountains and rocky coast of northern New England and the Maritime provinces. That cretin Balog is falling down on the job.
A waitress dropped her tray on the bar a few feet away. “Another White Russian for Sadie and a dirty martini for her customer,” she said.
Dirty martini. That’s what I should have had to get polluted. Gaia chuckled to herself.
The bartender set Mother Nature’s appletini in front of her and glanced over at the waitress. “Sure thing, Brandee.”
Ah, there’s the human I’m looking for.
***
Brandee sensed someone staring at her. She expected it to be a guy about to make a pass. It wasn’t unusual, especially if a patron had had too much to drink.
She stuck a hand on her hip and whirled to meet the person’s gaze. Oddly, this time a female was staring at her.
“You like working here?” the woman asked outright.
Who is she? Some kind of activist who thinks waitresses are demeaned? The satisfaction police? Or just a retro-looking lesbian?
“Yeah. I like it fine.”
“Liar,” the woman said.
“Excuse me?”
At that moment, Nick strode in and hurried over to her.
“Miss me?” he asked.
Before she had a chance to answer, he swept her into a bear hug—or was it a wolf hug? When he released her, she smiled up at him. “Yes, I did.”
“When are you free? I want to track down Angie before…”
He didn’t have to finish his sentence. She knew what he wanted to say, but he seemed to have stopped talking for another reason. His eyes were opened so wide she could see the white surrounding his blue irises, and he was staring at the retro woman as if in shock.
Brandee looked from one to the other. The woman was glaring at Nick. An audible gulp emanated from his throat.
Oh, crap. Is this an ex-girlfriend? Wait a minute…he doesn’t have any of those. Not if all he had were one-night stands.
“What’s going on here?” She studied her boyfriend’s face. It seemed frozen in fear. “Nick? Are you all right?”
“I, uh—I’ll let you know later.”
He approached the woman slowly as she slid off her bar stool. “Mother, I mean…”
Gaia grabbed the collar of his leather jacket and led him out the back door.
Mother?