Most people thought that blood-servants were smarter and knew more than an average human, due to their increased lifespans and brains kept healthy with vamp blood feedings. But living longer meant more to keep up with, more to learn, all on an adult’s brain power—the learning centers already hardened into slow-changing patterns. Most blood-servants were behind the times, no matter how hard they tried to keep up. In terms of security measures, Bruiser was stuck somewhere in the last decade of the twentieth century and the business was changing fast.
“One final thing,” I said. “The fixed security cameras installed throughout the building are fine, as long as you map out blind spots and cover them too. If I wanted to disrupt this meeting for political reasons, or kill a were for religious or mental instability reasons, or just make trouble, I’d get the building specs and security specs from whomever installed the system, memorize them, and come in with the guests or the caterers at the party, mill around, and then put an incendiary device in or near the guests’ rooms and set it to go off when a door is opened, or a toilet is sat on or something. You got holes in the system, and if I wanted in, I’d get in.”
“You are a dangerous woman, Jane Yellowrock,” he said, his tone guarded and reserved. “Thank you for the advice and your time.”
“Thanks for the paycheck. See you at the big bash.” Spotting Wrassler, I waved down my escort and headed for the stairs.
“Wear the dress with the yellow jeweled collar, and whatever armaments you deem appropriate.” I looked over my shoulder and Bruiser’s eyes fell from my face to my boots and back up, lingering on my butt in the leathers. Okay. That was different. Warmth spun through me and my toes curled. Beast, who had been unusually silent all day, perked up finally. She liked Bruiser. She liked him a lot. His voice dropped to a low vibration that made my blood heat. “I promise I’ll let you keep your toys this time.”
“You paid for the dresses. I guess you get to dress me.” Which was not at all how I meant to say that. I opened my mouth to correct it but everything that came to mind only made things worse. I snapped my mouth closed. Bruiser laughed in that securely masculine way that made a girl’s heart race. Wrassler was looking back and forth between us in speculation. I turned tail and headed for the stairs before I said anything more stupid.
From behind me I heard Bruiser say, “I’ll be swinging by to pick you up in the limo. Nine o’clock.” The last time we had been in Leo’s limo we had ended up on the floor in a mad make-out session that had stopped way too late. And way too soon. I lifted my fingers to show I’d heard but I didn’t look back. No way. I was a one-man woman, and Rick was that man. Most of the time. When he was available. I remembered the cheek peck and the cavalier adios from earlier with a curious dissatisfaction.
By the time I got home, the itchy feeling left from being near Bruiser had blown off in the warm breeze created by riding Bitsa. In deference to my houseguest, I turned the bike off and walked her the last few feet to the side gate of the house. The house, not my house. It was, by definition and contract, temporary housing. I unlocked the gate, carefully locking it behind me to keep out potential robbers, rapists, or gangbangers looking to make street cred. The paperwork and cleanup after killing a human intruder would be a pain in the butt.
No gates could keep out the really dangerous things; for that I had Molly’s, and now Evangelina’s, wards. With Beast-vision, the magical shield looked brilliant, electric blue in the night, and it buzzed over me, slightly uncomfortable, as it let me through. And this time it sent a static tingle through my fingers that hurt. I mimed a silent owwww and shook my hands. I’d have to ask Evangelina to back off on the power levels. I parked Bitsa against the house on the side porch and went inside. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, I heard Evangelina’s steady breathing, and Beast stirred deep inside me.
Hunt?
“Yeah,” I breathed. Moments later I was standing in the backyard, naked except for the gold nugget necklace that tied me to the mountains I had left only hours before. The gold wasn’t skinwalker magic. It was something darker that my skinwalker forebears would have considered black magic. In an arcane way, the nugget coupled me to Beast, a symbol of the event that had originally bound us together. In ways I didn’t understand completely, the gold made my shifts into mountain lion faster, easier, and helped me find my way back home when in beast form, even if it was a temporary home. Without the nugget, I’d be back to shifting only when I had lots of time to meditate my way into the change, or force it, painfully.
I dropped five pounds of steak, slightly heated in the microwave, onto the grass, fastened a small travel pack around my neck, containing clothes, the throwaway cell phone, my IDs, and money. I sat on a boulder that was still more or less in one piece, wrapped a fetish necklace made of the bones and teeth of a mountain lion around my fist, and curled my legs into a half-lotus position on the boulder. I could shift into Beast without the necklace if I had to, but this was easier. Tonight I was doing everything the easy way.
I relaxed, listening to the wind. Felt the pull of the slender sickle moon overhead. I listened to the beat of my own heart. Beast rose in me, silent, predatory, claws digging into my consciousness. I slowed the functions of my body, my breathing, my heart rate, let my blood pressure drop, my muscles relax, as if I were going to sleep, the ritual motions and meditation of the shift bestowing their own power to the change.