I Kissed a Dog

chapter 35

Several hours of fitful sleep were all I could handle.

Disturbing thoughts of Joshua Smart, Zane, and the Plum Beach murder mystery battered my mind like an aerial bombing attack. I’d even had an erotically charged dream about Valamir. Sleeping was out of the question given I couldn’t seem to find the off-switch for my mind.

It was 4:02 AM on Tuesday. I wondered if Zane was still asleep. Ignoring the urge to check his mental status, I made a pot of gourmet hotel coffee, and flipped open my laptop. I’d already mapped out my day. For starters, I’d spend a few early morning hours researching ancient languages to see if I recognized anything, and then, a long hot shower prior to checking out.

Before giving the paper to Alcuin last night, I’d taken a few minutes to appraise the document. I’d even traced some of the symbols. Even a research novice was capable of conducting a simple online search. Maybe I’d get lucky. It was about time one of us did.

Following my shower, I intended to indulge in a hot breakfast before heading to Troutdale and my parents. Mom had used her new texting talents to inform me they’d returned home ahead of schedule, no doubt thanks to Alcuin’s assistance. I was torn between calling head of my arrival, and surprising them. For now, I was leaning toward the big surprise.

Bob worked the first shift. He’d always been an early riser and a hardcore workaholic, much to my mother’s ongoing consternation. With him gone, I’d have some time alone with her. We needed to talk candidly. Something neither of us excelled at.

I sat on the bed’s edge debating whether or not I should prop some pillows against the headboard and get to work, or set up my laptop at the elegant desk in the corner. Unable to motivate myself into action, I rearranged my schedule and moved my shower up to the number one spot.

With the hot water pounding on my aching shoulders, I relaxed. The shampoo’s flowery blend provided a soothing aroma therapy session. I ran my hands down my squeaking hair, feeling like the first Breck Girl in action. I’d done a research project on her commercial history in my high school drama class, not something I made a regular practice of reminiscing about. I was also contemplating the possibility of switching the water flow and filling the tub. A bath sounded even more tantalizing.

A few minutes later, feeling grateful for the hotel’s super-sized hot water tank, I sunk into liquid warmth, letting the water envelop every last inch of me; just my face remained exposed.

As a child, my always-anxious mother had made sure to check in on me every five minutes during bath time, afraid I’d fall asleep and drown. Her fear about drowning was valid, but not in the context she’d envisioned. I doubted her paranoia had extended all the way to my fifteenth birthday, and my near-deadly dip in that stranger’s freezing pool.

Even in the heat, I shivered at the memory. Pushing the thoughts of that horrible day aside was simple enough, but they were replaced by searing visions of Zane. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? Sure he was my husband, but ….

The time we’d made love I was in a drunken stupor. Although the few romantic moments we’d since shared were well worth remembering, and repeating.

A loud thump startled me. I pulled myself out of water. What in the world? So far, the hotel had proven to be pretty much soundproof.

Feeling vulnerable, I was anxious to dress.

I rose hastily and stepped from the tub, further chilled by the rivulets of water cascading from my thick curls, leaving icy trails all the way to my feet. Normally, to avoid this unpleasant sensation, I wrapped my hair in a towel right away. But for some reason, all I wanted to do was to cover up. I cocooned myself inside an oversized towel and tiptoed to the bathroom door.

I peered into the suite. You’re being ridiculous! Get a grip! I scolded myself. Every bump wasn’t the boogie man.

This time it was the boogie girl.

The infamous redhead was stretched across on my bed, and two, very large, suit-clad-men, mutants, I suspected, in their human forms, stood impassively by the door.

I hugged my towel tighter and fought the familiar fainting feeling. I refused to tumble over, knowing I’d land in a powerless and naked heap on the floor, without Zane to soften the fall.

Twisting into a sitting position, my tied-for-first-place, worst-enemy-ever, broke the silence. “Well, well, Chloe. We meet at last,” she said sounding like a typical movie villain.

Terrified, I took a step back.

A rapidly forming plan featured me hiding in the bathroom. Problem, I had no idea what I’d do next. I considered melting her mind like I’d done to the mutants at the cabin, but without her, I’d lose my greatest link to the Plum Beach murders.

I wasn’t even sure my powers would work on a purebred. So far I’d only been able to override mutant minds. What if I tried and failed?

I’d be the one dead on the floor.

Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I took another tentative step.

“Don’t bother. We’ll just break the door down, and I can’t guarantee you won’t get,” she paused for effect, “hurt.”

Her warning worked. I wasn’t moving an inch in any direction.

“That’s a good girl. And to show you that I’m not a complete bitch, I’m going to have my men face the door so you can get dressed. Just ignore me. Us girls have all the same parts anyway.” She raised her brow daring me to refuse.

The men complied without further prompting, giving me a close up view of their football-player-shoulders. Any last minute fantasy of somehow getting past the two of them was doused like a flame underwater. They’d tackle me or toss me aside. Neither option tempted.

The woman scowled. “Any reason you’re not moving?”

That was all it took. I sprang into action.

Ignoring her smug expression, I tried to dress as discreetly as my towel allowed; all the while wondering what of use I could rescue from my belongings without her noticing. My purse was on the floor by the bed. There was no way she’d let me bring that a long.

What kidnapper allowed their captive to pack? — Apparently mine.

“Pack up and leave your cardkey on the desk. Everyone will just assume you checked out and took off on your own.

She’d made a good point.

Two people knew my whereabouts — Luke and Alcuin. Only one person, if I wanted to get technical. And one vampire. I’d slammed the door on my supernatural support system.

For the first time, I found myself hoping one of my sneaky sidekicks would betray my confidence and tell Zane and the others what I was up to. But I’d have to presume otherwise and act accordingly. I could no longer see myself as a victim of circumstances, especially since I’d insisted to Zane, on more than one occasion, I wasn’t some disaster-prone damsel in distress.

If I intended to survive, I needed to get and stay one step ahead of my captors. My powers could provide that extra edge.

One problem: I’d always found it tricky to do multiple activities while listening in on an animal’s thoughts. That would have to change. To my benefit, the gift had been expanding every day, and I believed the growth-trend would continue. Believing in me and my capabilities was essential. Without faith in my talents, the woman I despised as much as Jazmine would ensure I died a humiliating and gruesome death.

It was time to push through any self-imposed limits and stay alive. I had to be ready to climb through any window of opportunity, no matter how brief or unexpected.

To my amazement, the first window opened following my personal pep talk.

“I told you! Back to the girl!” the woman barked, whirling to face her two flunkies, giving me a blink of time to shove the traced symbols into the pocket of my jeans.

I made a show of shimmying into the stretchy denim, wiggling my hips like I’d seen Rhonda do more times than I cared to remember. Things had to be bad if I was looking to archenemy number three for survival skills.

The men, being true dogs, sensed my seductive antics, and whipped their heads around. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see them panting.

What did surprise me was Ms. Redhead’s brutal response.

She vibrated and turned full werewolf with a roar. She’d taken the form I found most repulsive and fearsome, sending me back to the bloody fight in the forest, where I’d seen Zane in the very same shape — on two legs — looking like a half man half beast monstrosity. Eyes crimson with malicious intent.

Her guards dropped to the floor and rolled on their backs, arms and legs up, resigning themselves to her ruling rank.

I swallowed the urge to laugh.

As horrifying as the scene was, the image of two grown, massive men, flat on their backs, submitting to a woman, werewolf or not, would stay with me forever.

Wait! What the …? One orangey pile of something was dangling from the bed.

Her hair! My female captor, in her haste, had changed so fast, she’d torn right out of her clothing like Misty in Vegas. In this case, Ms. Werewolf had also lost her hair.

A wig.

Sensing my appraisal, she swung her massive head around to glare at me. Salvia trickled from the corners of her elongated snout. Although notably smaller than Zane, she was no less imposing.

Her eyes stretched into narrow slits and her horrible lips curled into a feral grin. There was no mistaking that like Jazmine, she detested me.

In some strange way, I could understand Jazmine’s feelings, as misplaced as they were. She wanted something I had; at least I’d had Zane. I wasn’t so sure now. What this beast wanted was yet to be determined.

My stomach constricted, and an unexpected jolt of fear punched through my midsection. What if I’d lost Zane? Get a grip! This is no time to ponder bad love gone good … gone bad.

I forced myself to stand taller and stared back, not quite sure what I hoped to accomplish by my challenging attitude.

She didn’t take well to my unexpected display of bravery.

Asserting her dominance, she growled her threat, running her tongue over the sharpest teeth I’d seen in such proximity.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the canines to shred my throat.

Unlike Valamir’s blissful bites, I could expect no pleasure from the rabid she wolf, just excruciating pain. I felt sorry for whoever would get stuck cleaning up my mess, bloody entrails and all.

She still doesn’t get it. Stupid, stupid, human.

Impossible! I was on the verge of a bloody and demoralizing death. It couldn’t be another open window this soon. Yet here she was broadcasting her thoughts out in the open for any halfway decent, animal-mind-reader to overhear.

The area around us quivered. I knew then she was shifting back, and allowed myself one huge sigh of relief. Though later, I’d realize I should have waited to rejoice.

With simple curiosity getting the best of me, my eyes opened, seemingly without my permission. I had to know, had to see her face minus the flowing amber wig.

My internal warning bells started tolling the minute I registered her striking and familiar features: The exotic face; the stylish geometrical hairstyle; the commanding presence.

A teeth-chattering chill wound up from the base of my neck down to my finger tips.

I was looking into the icy eyes of one very pissed off purebred she wolf.

Jazmine.