I Kissed a Dog

chapter 27

Teeth nibbling on my right ear pulled me from the thickness of sleep.

I stayed quiet, keeping my breathing slow and steady. I wanted to keep my now-awake status concealed from Zane so I could enjoy the tempting tortures he’d use to rouse, or, more accurately, arouse me.

The room was bright. Even with my eyes closed, I could detect a sunny Sunday morning … or afternoon. I had no idea how long we’d slept.

Following last night’s argument about whether or not to form a truce with our mutant prisoners, we’d fallen, mid-sentence, into an all-encompassing and much overdue state of deep sleep. Sex had been the furthest thing from both of our minds, but now, with Zane’s tongue winding leisurely down my neck, I felt pretty willing to reestablish our wedding night bliss, the bliss that I’d missed out on the first time around.

Zane nuzzled my neck and nipped at my ear. His hand moved in slow, tantalizing circles over my belly, blazing a trail of heat across my skin. Forgetting my reasons for feigning sleep, I turned on my side, pressing myself against the heat of my husband.

“Ah, Chloe,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“No. I should have minded my own business. Dropping into conversations and minds uninvited can be pretty unsettling.” I kissed his bare chest, sighing with delight as I ran my tongue down his smooth, warm skin.

We were at last going to consummate our marriage with me fully aware and participating at full capacity. An old love song about afternoon delights drifted through my mind. I moved lower, my tongue winding and flicking along the way.

Before I could straddle the prize, a loud banging shook the front door.

“Dear Lord, now what?” Zane groaned like a man in pain.

More pounding rattled the living room window. I grabbed the alarm clock.

“It’s 1:30 PM,” I announced, as if that would somehow explain the rude visitors still knocking.

I pushed myself up. “Where’s Mack? Michael?” Couldn’t they answer the damn door?

Zane was on his feet, “Honey, they don’t live here. We needed some alone time.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen now,” I pouted.

“I’ll deal with this. You wait here.” Zane slid his arm into a sleeve and stalked to the door, pulling the shirt all the way on. “Just a minute!” he barked, with no attempt at civility.

The door swung open with a bang. “What … ?” I heard him stutter.

Grabbing my robe, I dashed to the door. What I witnessed terrified me far more than any blood-thirsty vamp, spell-casting sorcerer, or mad-munching mutant.

My mom and stepdad stood staring up at Zane. Bob reached inside his jacket; where I knew his firearm waited. He scowled, clearly looking for any reason to draw his weapon.

My mom was visibly trembling, holding back a sure stream of tears.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” my mom cried. “An elopement … how could you do this to me!”

I glanced at Zane, who gave me a very unhelpful you-get-to-handle-this look.

“Mom, Dad, sometimes things happen fast and you just go with the flow.” I knew by my mom’s narrowing eyes and Bob’s reddening face they weren’t buying my simple explanation.

Bob stepped forward. “You’ve never been a ‘go with the flow’ kind of gal. Are you in some kind of trouble? We’ve tried to reach you. After stopping by your house, we tracked down your boss, and he told us you’d gotten married.”

“Luke …” I grumbled to myself. How was I supposed to trust him to help me when he’d blabbed my marital status to my parents?

My mom wiped her eyes with a tissue. “Luke is such a nice man. I always thought …”

“Mother! Please! I love Zane.” Feeling awkward, I looked at Zane. “Mom, Dad — sorry. This is my husband, Zane Marshall. He is a veterinarian. We met at work.” I reached for Zane’s hand.

My mom was deescalating. I could tell she liked the idea that I’d married a man with a college degree. Her approval would come easier than Bob’s. No guy — college educated or not — was good enough for his little girl.

“So, Zane.” Bob made his move. “My daughter wasn’t worthy of a real family wedding? Why all the rush? Involved in any illegal activity we should know about?”

“Honey, please tell me you’re not …”

I groaned feeling like a teenager caught in the act. “Mom, I’m not pregnant. Dad, I didn’t want a big fancy wedding. Mom did.”

“That’s not …”

“Yes, it is. You’ve been talking about my big wedding since I was in diapers. Just because you never had one.” I clapped my hand over my mouth, wishing I could erase those last words.

“Why don’t we all calm down, go have a nice lunch, and talk about this. We’re sorry about the suddenness, but the romance of Vegas accelerated things. We figured we’d have a big wedding later,” Zane explained, an assuring smile pasted on his handsome face.

“I’m sorry, mom. I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did. I just can’t accept this. Something is not right.” She crossed her arms, refusing to look at me or Zane.

“What about all the murders, Chloe? I’m not sure it’s even safe to live down here anymore.” My dad changed tactics. He couldn’t handle my mom’s messy emotions. It was time for him to retreat to his comfort zone — law enforcement and crime.

“Dad, I know you’re already well aware the victims were men. That pretty much rules me out, don’t you think?” I couldn’t even begin to imagine his response to everything supernatural happening in my life. Seeing him now, like this, gave me another reason to be thankful for Zane’s wisdom. At one point, I’d been ready to tell Bob about werewolves.

Ignoring my little appraisal, Bob crossed his arms. “We’re leaving. You’ve upset your mother. When you have time to talk, sensibly, we’ll be at our usual hotel for a few days before heading home. And you …” Bob glared up a Zane. “Better take care of my daughter or you’ll be answering to the entire Troutdale police force.”

Zane tensed, but answered calmly, “Yes, sir. She’ll be safe with me. You can count on that.”

“That remains to be seen,” he added before taking my mom’s arm. “Believe me, Mr. Marshall. I will be counting on that. And I will be using everything at my disposal to find out who you are.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. My stepdad was no dummy when it came to technology and he had more than a few favors he could call in. Sending Alcuin to change his perception about this unhappy reunion might be necessary. Messing with his memories wasn’t what I wanted, but Bob learning more about Zane was unacceptable. Protecting them from each other was yet another task to add to my lengthy to-do-list, especially with Bob lurking around Plum Beach. I’d try to slip by the hotel later and encourage them to go home; the perfect time for them to meet Alcuin and for him to work his mind magic.

It took three very strong cups of coffee, following their departure, before I felt semi-sane. I hadn’t expected my parents to find out about my nuptials from a secondary source, and I kept replaying our horrible conversation over and over in my head. Zane, knowing I needed space, had hurried out to “visit” with our guests. I could no longer refer to them as prisoners. Guests seemed more civil.

How could I have hurt my mom like that? What was wrong with me?

So much for a restful day of exquisite love making with my husband. I stood instead washing the few dishes we’d left in the sink, thinking about tomorrow.

Monday was the big day. We’d teleport to Seattle for the board meeting, and later, I’d try my hand at deceiving Zane. I was already feeling guilty about sneaking off. But now, more than ever, I needed some time away from this supernatural soap opera to think. I’d locate the Smart kid and maybe I’d visit my folks if they’d returned to Portland after Alcuin’s mind message. They deserved that much.

“Knock, knock! Anyone home?” Michael called, cheerful as always.

Grateful for the distraction, I hurried to unlock the door. Playing the polite hostess came naturally even when I was wallowing in self pity. I could count on the youngest M to lighten things up. “Coffee?” I was already pouring.

“Sure. You okay?” He pulled out a chair and made himself as comfortable as he could at the tiny table.

“My parents stopped by.”

He listened while I poured out my sad story, patting my hand several times.

“How are our mutant friends?” he asked when I was done.

“Zane’s out with them now. I think Stryder might prove useful. There’s something about him. I don’t know why, but I like him.”

Michael looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Chloe, I wanted to tell Zane at the same time, but you need to know this. When I vanished at the park, I was chasing something or someone that looked like Agent Green, but not like him. I’m not sure how to explain it, but he was transformed, ready to feast on the zebra again.

It must have been him the first time Missy was attacked. It’s too coincidental. But I have no idea what he is or how he figures into all this.”

A slow chill spread down my spine. “I guess I’m not surprised. When Mr. FBI pulled us over last night, he mentioned something that seemed strange about the zebras and wolves.”

“Did Alcuin talk to you yet?” Michael asked, to my surprise, sounding anxious.

I shook my head.

“He ran into his own trouble out at McCray’s trailer park.”

“What kind of trouble?” Zane pushed through the front door.

Michael told Zane the same thing he’d told me about Agent Green and then went on to describe Alcuin’s failed attempt to claim the coin. According to Michael, Alcuin had never even made it into the trailer. Another unfamiliar vampire was on the premises and Alcuin had chosen not to engage the outsider.

“That doesn’t sound like the Alcuin I know,” Zane pondered out loud.

“He didn’t say so, but I think he was afraid of the new bloodsucker.” Michael looked guilty even suggesting such heresy. “He said that the out-of-town vamp was in the ultra-ancient vampire category. Alcuin is old, but not ancient according to vampire history.”

For several very obvious reasons, the whole conversation bugged me. I felt as guilty as the young werewolf looked over sharing Alcuin’s secret fears. I hadn’t told anyone about my most recent vampire rendezvous during the reception, nor had I bothered mentioning the possibility of sharing my blood with that same, ultra-ancient vamp in Vegas. Zane wouldn’t be happy to hear any of it.

Now wasn’t the time to reveal my Valamir encounters, not with another looming secret so near.

“You okay, Princess?” Zane reached across the table and slid his hand over mine.

Just his touch provoked a myriad of emotions: Love, lust, guilt, fear — a not so nice combination. I’d tell him the truth the minute I returned from my little fact-finding mission. I could blame my behavior on my parents and my desire to make things right with them.

“I’m okay.” I heard myself lie. “Mind if I take a nap?” If I stayed with him another second, I was going to blurt out all my secrets, damn the consequences.

He squeezed my hand. “Sleep tight, babe.”

“Sleep tight.” Michael smiled, weary.

Not tired at all, I tried to read. Something I’d loved doing pre-Zane. Now, with my life as exciting and scary as a bestseller, it was difficult to focus on an author’s fictional world.

Tossing the paperback onto the dresser, I paced our small bedroom.

The guys had stepped outside to greet Mack. I assumed Alcuin wouldn’t be too far behind. If they stuck to their typical pattern, they’d gather around the table and compare their findings, searching for common themes and suspects.

Zane had mentioned that Rita was working to decode the sigils on the coins. We still needed to find the fourth. Four murders, four coins. Where was my cloaked helper when I needed him?

Chloe, are you there? It’s me, Stryder.

What now? Other than Zane, no one had ever sought me out telepathically. How was Stryder able to make the connection with such ease?

I’m here. How did you …

I just focused my thoughts on you and kept repeating my question.

Maybe our unexpected link was the result of my hijacking him at the trailer park. I’d pretty much possessed his mind and all his senses. Yet another reminder that my powers were developing in ways I’d never expected. Making me wish, for the trillionth time, that someone who could explain my gift would appear and offer their wise council.

I decided to use this latest mental enhancement to my benefit. Perhaps I could persuade Styder to join our cause. I’d try keeping the conversation casual for starters, build a rapport.

Wow! This is kind of new for me. Are the guys treating you all right? all right? Focus on his well being, a perfect opening.

As good as can be expected. Better than we’d have treated them, or you.

I didn’t have time now to contemplate the implications of that statement. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

That’s good. I want you to be comfortable. What’s your friend’s name?

I heard him grumble under his breath. Tom.

Tom? Geeze, how exotic? Tom , the matted mutant.

Like you, we don’t choose our names.

I laughed. I think you’ve got a sense of humor under all that fur and those sharp teeth.

Come look at me now. I’m all man.

Oh, boy! I wasn’t walking down that conversation path. Speaking of man, is Tom’s hair as tangled as his fur?

It’s in dreadlocks.

That makes sense. I guess.

Not my style, but it suits him. You know, you don’t need to waste your time on small talk. I know what you want.

You do? I guessed he did. I wasn’t the best at casual chit chat, and now I’d proven counseling wasn’t my next best career option.

It doesn’t take a PHD to figure out what you’re up to. You want to be the welcome committee so I’ll join your little team of supernatural misfits.

Misfits! That wasn’t very nice. What are you? Wait. I know. You’re the misfits’ prisoner.

I didn’t think he was going to answer, but I refused to apologize for my barb.

You win. I’m more of a misfit than most. I don’t follow the rules very well, especially when I don’t agree with them. You were also right earlier when you mentioned a crazy woman in charge. None of us lower level scouts have met her. But I can tell you she’s a hot redhead, with an appetite for destruction.

You’re not kidding about that. I’d seen the kind of destruction she hungered for. It involved severed body parts and lots of blood.

What were you doing in the trailer? I decided to be direct. The worst that could happen — he wouldn’t answer.

The same thing you were, looking for some antique coins. Don’t bother asking what they’re for. I don’t know. None of us did. There’s not a whole lot of trust on our side of the fence.

What about the ugly man wearing a robe. Did you see him? I needed to find out more about the creature.

I’ve never seen one, but they’re out there. We’ve been warned by our superiors to stay away from them. You should do the same.

Not sure how to respond to his warning, I plopped on the bed. I’d been pacing like a caged panther for the duration of our conversation. His assumption about the cloaked creature, or as he said, creatures, didn’t add up. The one I’d met had been helpful, even timid. I decided to keep that information to myself.

Chloe?

I’m here.

Your friends are on their way for another fun round of questioning.

Play nice, I reminded, before falling back on my pile of pillows, arms stretched over my head.

I always do, he said, his voice like silk and honey.

Men! Mutants. Werewolves. They all had one thing in common. They were big flirts.

Goodbye, Stryder. It was almost as if I was ending a casual phone call.

The good news: I’d accomplished some positive team building. Maybe I’d close my eyes for a few minutes. A quick powernap wouldn’t hurt.

After all, tomorrow would be a long, long day.