Chapter 3
three
. . .
“Why are you here again?” I asked as I stared through the windshield at the rusty gate, securely locking out anything that might go bump in the night, not that it was night. He should be home taking care of my house and Hetta. Hopefully his ‘friend’ who had agreed to take the dog wouldn’t kill it the fifteenth time she got puked on.
Danny leaned up between the two front seats to peer at the house. “You need me to drink all the Jack.”
Sammy sighed heavily, but she looked more tired than she had in a long time, with the multiple fevers and the long drive. “Uncle Danny, the liquor is a bribe for Auntie Gloria.”
“We don’t need her,” he scoffed and looped an arm around the seat and my shoulder, strangling me.
I pushed his arm off and got out, pulling up the seat so I could get out the case of Jack Daniels. “If you want to be useful, stay in the car with Sam.”
“I don’t want to stay in the car with Uncle Danny. He has bad BO.” She waved her hand in front of her nose. Was this extra sensitive smelling, or was Danny just rank from the road trip?
“I should carry that for you,” Danny said, coming out after the alcohol crate and grabbing it.
I ran a hand through my hair because I needed to keep this situation as contained as possible until I had a stable place for Sam to stay while I dealt with her father, but I’d lost control the second Danny weaseled his way into the back seat and wouldn’t get out. I exhaled and went to the gate, then pressed the buzzer while Sam leaned against the wall beside me, dark circles under her bloodshot eyes.
“Divine Aspirations, this is your Gloria. Speak and I will hear.” Her voice was raspy, like she’d gone to bed drunk and was now dehydrated.
“Drink some water. I brought a whole case of Jack.”
She gasped on the other side of the speaker. “A whole case? How did you know that I was low?” The gate clicked open, and I pushed through, Danny and Sam trailing after me.
The small front gated courtyard was as desolate and sad as the last time I’d been here, before I’d had Sam. I raised my hand to knock on the door, but it was thrown open by the tall and thin woman in a purple floral caftan.
“Honey? You look practically civilized. Who’s that disreputable ruffian behind you?” She eyed Danny suspiciously, then turned to Sammy with a wide smile. “Dahling, you look like trouble. Come in, come in, and throw yourself on the floor until you’ve gotten out the car cramps. Nothing worse than car cramps. Mind the broken glass.”
Her front entryway was littered with broken glass, which we carefully picked our way through while she seemed not to notice that it was there.
“The glass is new,” I said, but the rest of the house was the decrepit chaos I remembered from my foster years, when I’d ended up at fifteen until I’d aged out.
“So much is new,” she said, waving her hand under my nose. The diamond was the size of a golf ball.
I audibly gasped and stopped, shocked to my core. “You’re married? And here I thought that it wasn’t the end of the world.”
She laughed and threw herself onto a fuchsia chaise. “Oh, the end of the world comes and goes all the time for anyone who’s paying attention. So, what’s the bribe for?” she asked, nodding at Danny’s crate. He was quiet, uncertain, because he had realized with the superpower born of pretty men, that Gloria wouldn’t fall prey to his usual charm.
I pulled the crate down and sat on it. I was so tired, both from the driving and from life’s constant barrage of vomit. “I’m getting in contact with, um, an old friend, so I thought you’d keep Sam here while I checked out the situation.”
“You’re going to see her dad? Is that the best idea? No strings are your thing, and once there are strings involving kids, they become serious chains. Fancy a chain, Honey?”
I shuddered and pulled out a bottle, opening it with my palm before I swigged some back and handed her the bottle. “Like you said, the end of the world comes and goes all the time. Danny, find somewhere to sit or go back in the car. You’re making things awkward.”
Gloria laughed delightedly. “Is he your lover? Tell me that you brought a lover to face off against your baby’s daddy. Oh, I’ve got to watch that.” She passed the bottle back.
“Are we really going to go see my dad?” Sam asked from her place flopped on the old floral rug, hopefully not covered in glass. She said it cautiously, like she wasn’t sure if she was more curious or terrified about meeting her father.
“Not we,” I said firmly and took another swig. “I need to do reconnaissance first.”
“Reco-what?” she asked, looking at me with dawning horror. “Are you drinking alcohol? The last time you drank alcohol, you almost burned down the house.”
I took another sip and then winced and put the lid on, tucking it into my bag. “You make a good point, young bard. On the coming quest, I will need my wits about me, and now I think I need to use the plumbing. Gloria, where is the plumbing?” For some reason, I couldn’t remember even though I’d lived there for years.
She gestured grandly towards the hall, where I found the bathroom after a great deal of fumbling. I didn’t throw up. Nope. I spent fifteen minutes hyperventilating, crammed in the corner of the shower, because I couldn’t fit under the sink anymore. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t go into his coffeeshop and ask if he was a werewolf after I hadn’t seen him for twelve years. It would be a disaster. What if he had his beard? I’d never be able to leave again if he smiled at me with those soft brown eyes and held his arms open for a hug.
Yes, he had a mansion in Seattle with a hall filled with cages, and was definitely involved in illegal activities that sometimes ended in ending someone, but I’d felt so safe with him, until he shaved his beard and I got to see what his face really looked like.
What if he was still wearing that face? How could I face a face like that? I couldn’t. I pulled out Jack and drank while I sank deeper into that corner in a mindless, horrible stupor. Eventually I passed out, waking up to Danny tugging on my foot.
“So, last night was a party that you clearly didn’t miss nearly as much as I thought you did.”
I winced from the loudness of his voice. “Sh. I’m sleeping.”
“You have your head on a shampoo bottle. The ever-resourceful Honey bear. Come on, sweetie-pie. Your friend Gloria, who is much weirder than me, so why she thinks she has some claim on you as her little sister is beyond me, came up with a plan, which isn’t the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”
“I have a plan,” I mumbled, letting him drag me to my feet, then splashing water on my face. I looked… terrible was a kind way to say it. Didn’t matter. I’d wear sunglasses, and it’s not like I was trying to make him think, wow, what a hot thing she still is.
“Your plan was for me to watch Sam here while you go and face your demon, but wouldn’t it be better if I was your backup while Gloria watched the Sambo? It’ll be way better. She’s got weird down patter than a cow, what with butter and cow pies, double patting if you know what I mean, but you need some actual skills.” He did a couple flashy knife hands while his dark eyes glimmered seductively. Did he even have menacing in his repertoire?
I sighed heavily. “Gloria has glass in her foyer.”
“It’s good for defense. Do you think she’s actually married? No offense, but she’s so far off the deep end of weird, she’s never coming up for air, or we wish she weren’t.” He winked at me.
“What did she do to you?”
“She took one look at me and dismissed me. She’s like you, only worse, because she’s not my little sister.”
“She’s your cousin. Don’t hold it against her that she doesn’t find you attractive. I thought the only thing she had a serious passion for was alcohol, but if she’s actually married…” I frowned at him. “Where is her husband?”
“You don’t want to know. He’s an immortal slayer, the last descendant of Van Helsing, and he’s off on a secret mission to save humanity as we know it. In other words, he’s a figment of her imagination.”
I shrugged and went through my purse, looking for makeup remover. I needed a serious refresh. “She’s just living her life more creatively than most. She’s a fortune teller for a living, Danny, like you’re a ninja. Let it go.”
“If we did have a descendant of Van Helsing on the team, he could slay your wolf lover when he turns his slavering jaws in your direction, but I guess you’ll just have to settle for a ninja. Ninjas are way cooler than slayers. I mean, what’s a slayer besides a general assassin, but ninjas are also spies, and thieves, and assassins.”
I fixed my makeup while he went on and on about how lame slayers were, because apparently Gloria had regaled him for a very long time about her husband’s awesomeness, which brought out all of Danny’s insecurities.
When I looked less like I’d spent the night at the bottom of a shower in Jack’s embrace, I headed to the living room, where Gloria was sitting in her regal get-up, doing a palm reading for Sam.
“You two look cozy. I won’t interrupt you, because this whole thing should only take a second. Gloria, do you want me to get a coffee while I’m there?”
“Coffee?” she asked, looking up with a frown.
“Sure. He’ll be at his coffee shop if he’s not busy with something else.” I kept my voice light and chipper, because I was used to covering up my feelings in order to do what I needed to do to give my baby what she needed. I didn’t give her a hug, because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to let her go if I did. He had a whole hall filled with cages, like the cage I’d been kept in for almost a year.
I took a deep steadying breath and took off, barely hearing Gloria’s ‘hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps,’ before I headed through the glass-strewn foyer and out into the dismal courtyard where Danny was waiting for me.
When I opened the gate, I almost hit a guy, tall, specter looking, but somehow exactly the same as he’d looked the last time I’d seen him over a decade ago.
“Tom?” I asked, staring at the manager of the movie theater a few blocks away.
“Do I know you?” he asked, with a slight pull of his thin lips.
“Probably not, but I used to live here.”
“Ah. One of the fosters.” He watched me with narrow eyes as I headed for my car. He was weird, but a solid citizen who could get a cat out of a tree like no one’s business.
“Who was that?” Danny asked, sounding sullen as he buckled into the passenger’s seat.
I grabbed his hand, squeezing it as tight as I can. “If things go sideways, you have to promise to take care of Sammy and not let her drink glass. Swear it, Danny.”
“I swear it. Can you let go of me? That grip is death.”
I exhaled and released him, then pulled out, driving too fast before fear shut me down. I was doing this for Sammy. I was going to save her if I could, and if I couldn’t, at least I’d done everything I possibly could.
The coffee shop was on a cute little street off Lafayette square, ‘Joe’s Living Dead Coffee Shop,’ on the bright blue sign that was the color of the dress I’d worn the last time I’d seen him.
I wanted to grip the steering wheel and soak in the agony, but I had to hurry and rip it off like a bandage. I pulled open the door, but then Danny grabbed my wrist.
“Change of plans, Honey. What if I go in first, keep my phone on speaker so you can hear our whole convo, get the lay of the land, check to see if your guy’s as bad as you think he is, and then give you the chance to escape if necessary? He doesn’t know me, and I don’t know him, so I can use my ninja spy skills to help my girl out. What do you say?”
I slumped down in my seat. “You’ll go in and check things out first?”
“Sure. Then if it looks good, you can come in and make contact, talk about his daughter’s health, maybe mention the lack of child support if he looks like he’s got cash, which he might, because this coffee shop is sweet.”
“Sure. Okay. Thanks.” I locked my door and sank down in the seat until I was mostly on the floor.
He studied me and shook his head. “You know that therapy is a thing, right?”
“An expensive thing for people who don’t have to work for a living.”
He rolled his eyes and got out, adjusted his cuffs and his sunglasses before sauntering across the street. He called me before he was to the shop. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good. Don’t make any sounds, okay? I’ll mute you, just hold on. See how much better ninjas are than slayers?” He went through the door, so I could only see the outline of him and his dark shirt through the glass, but I could hear the bell jangle, and the sound of a coffee shop, distant talking, coffee grinding, coffee shop music playing on soft speakers.
“Hey, do you come here often?” he asked someone I couldn’t see.
“Every morning.” The girl snarled like she needed at least a couple cups of coffee to start her day.
“Oh, then you must know the owner. Is she attractive? I always wanted to date a beautiful barista.”
I pounded my head against the steering wheel. His idea of subtlety was another person’s sexual harassment.
“Joe’s coffee shop is run by Joe,” she snapped.
“Of course it is. Too bad, because I was hoping to find my fate this morning. Every day is a new day for fate to step in.”
I gagged, but the woman only snorted.
“Are you this bad after you’ve had your coffee?” she asked, somehow only amused by him.
“Bad can be good,” he returned with an eyebrow wiggle I could hear through the phone.
She chuckled and said, “Joe’s running the expresso machine.”
“Ah, the beard is impressive. Do you know if he’s hiring?”
“You can ask.”
It was quiet for a second while I hyperventilated on the car mat, gripping the steering wheel. He had his beard. Was that a good sign or a bad one? How could I resist him if he had a beard? But his beard was his nice face, the one that protected the weak and made you feel like the only person in the world while his smile wiped out every terror.
“Welcome to Joe’s Living Dead Coffee Shop. What can I get for you?” His voice was low, rumbling, sexy enough to give me shivers even through the phone. How could a voice sound so good?
“What’s your best elixir for strength and vigor, if you know what I mean?”
“I’m not sure if I do. Maybe you could be more specific.” He sounded amused, because Danny was infinitely amusing to people he didn’t drive insane.
“I’m looking for something that will do more to increase my, ahem, virility and hair growth. Maybe throw in a pair of fangs.”
Kill me now. Was he flirting with Joe, or asking for a hit of werewolf superpower? Danny was way too dramatic to play the straight guy, however straight he was.
“You’re looking for the giftshop across the way where they specialize in fictional accessories, elf ears, vampire fangs, that kind of thing.” Joe still sounded amused.
Danny said, “I’m looking for a way to get a beard like yours. There’s this woman, loves a man in a beard, but mine is less than impressive.”
He was so shameless. I moaned and curled up in a ball.
“Why don’t I get you a cup of Joe that’ll put hair on your chest? I’m afraid that’s the only hair growing abilities I can give you today.”
“I like what you did there. Sure thing, Joe… So, do you own this place?” he asked after a long pause.
I could hear the expresso machine coming on and off. “That’s right. Are you looking for a job, or just facial hair?”
“I own a martial arts studio currently, but adding a coffee element might be commercially viable.” Danny sounded so pretentious.
“A gym? What’s your style?”
I could hear Danny puff up. He could talk about martial arts all day and all night if you let him. Not that I wasn’t as obsessed, but I kept it low key.
“Mixed martial, you know, basic karate with judo and a few others that you wouldn’t know about. I don’t want to bore you.”
I rolled my eyes, because Danny always liked to bore people.
“I have a little gym upstairs with a fair mat. I find martial arts very therapeutic, like an excellently crafted elixir. I also practice mixed martial, but my style is always evolving depending on current interests. Do you do any dirty fighting or are you strictly a comp guy?”
Oh crap, he was luring Danny in. I sat up and struggled to get out from under the steering wheel.
“Oh, I’ve done my share of backstreet brawling, but I’m getting kind of old to be nursing a punctured lung, if you know what I mean.”
Joe laughed, low, rumbling, absolutely the most slaying sound I’d ever tried to forget. “I think I finally understand. Do you have a name?”
“Daniel. Do you need a last name?”
“Not currently. Here’s your coffee. I put something extra in it that’ll give you a kick.”
“I’ve already got an amazing kick. You aren’t half bad. I mean, you keep a gym above your work? I’m starting to see it. You’re wearing a ring. You married, or just keeping the wild females at bay?”
Joe rumbled another laugh, and I twitched uncomfortably at the sound.
“Something like that. Enjoy your coffee.”
I heard the scrape of a chair and saw Danny in the window. He gave me a furtive glance, then whispered, “You’re up, Hon. He seems as solid as they get. I like him.”
What the crap had been the point of any of that? It was twelve years ago. He probably wouldn’t even remember me, much less recognize me. What was the ring about? Had he really gotten married? Nothing about his personal life was mentioned in his online bio, the owner of the sixth largest coffee chain in the world.
I got out of the car, stumbling onto the pavement before I could change my mind. I gripped my bag with white hands as I walked across the street, almost getting hit by a sedan that I hadn’t seen coming. It was going to be fine. He was a nice bearded coffee shop owner who ran women’s shelters and wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. That was the role he was playing, so this whole thing would be completely fine.
Had he actually married someone else? Why did that feel like a betrayal?
I took a deep breath and pushed through the door, the jangling sending a jolt of pain through my skull. I really shouldn’t have slept in the shower last night, but that would make my morning coffee run look even more legit.
I waited in line, behind a woman who couldn’t decide between the caramel macchiato and the chocolate expresso, then the man who wanted a whole office order of fifteen various coffees, and then I was finally at the bar, trying not to notice the way that Danny was sipping his coffee with exaggerated smacks, watching the scene with way too much studied indifference. He was the worst spy in the world. No, Gloria would be equally as terrible.
When my turn came, I looked up, and the world stopped as I stared through my sunglasses into the warmest, softest, sweetest pair of brown eyes that could ever lie to a woman. He blinked, and I shifted my eyes to his mouth, because he was saying something, but I couldn’t hear him through the ringing in my ears. Or maybe that was the distant clang of doom. His lips parted, and I had a flash of memory, those lips soft against mine, whispering against my ear while he was stretched over me on the mat.
He stood there staring at me while I stared back through the protective shield of my sunglasses until I realized that he’d asked me something.
“What?” I croaked, sounding like I’d slept with Jack at the bottom of the shower all night. This was a terrible idea. If my daughter was turning into a werewolf, I should find a different local werewolf to help me. Not that any of that made sense. He had a beard, wavy locks, thick brows, and beautiful dark lashes, but he certainly wasn’t an animal. There wasn’t a drop of ferociousness in those eyes, but eyes could change.
“Can I get your order?” he asked, his smile even softer, the smile he used when a battered woman came in to the shelter who had no hope of finding any gentleness.
“Oh. I need a coffee with chocolate and peppermint schnapps.” What had Gloria’s order been? “I mean hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps, not coffee, I mean if you do hot chocolate, because if not, that’s fine too, just a coffee with peppermint, or not, and schnapps, or not, or any other kind of alcohol, or vanilla, whichever works for you, just something that’s good, thanks.” I pressed my lips together while he studied me for a long time with those soft eyes that I avoided by studying the marble countertop between us. Was that real marble? It looked nice, cool, the kind of marble that you could knock yourself unconscious on to avoid one’s own idiocy.
“If you tell me your poison, I can slip a few drops in a cup to help with your rough morning. I’m guessing Jack Daniels, but the suit says champagne, although wrinkled champagne.”
I smoothed down my jacket and skirt, feeling self-conscious in my self-confidence suit. “The drink’s for my friend, not me. I don’t drink coffee or hot chocolate.”
“No? Just Jack Daniels from the bottle? Let me juice you some wheat grass. I’ll give you that along with the hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps.”
I looked up at him in surprise. “Wheat grass?” He used to do a juice bar on one side of the coffee shop, but I’d almost forgotten the way he made mixing all kinds of drinks an art. “Sure. That sounds great.” I sounded almost like myself, professional, competent, because this was just ordering coffee for Gloria and getting a shot of wheat grass juice for myself. I could do this. I could survive this. Except that the point wasn’t to see him again without him recognizing me, but to ask him for help with Sam.
I’d have to make him recognize me. With shaky fingers, I raised my hand to my glasses, and after too long, pulled them off and stuffed them in my bag before I could change my mind. Would he recognize me? Did I want him to, or not? I didn’t want him to, but I needed him to.
He handed me the shot glass of wheat grass before turning to the hot water machine. “The trick to making really good hot chocolate, is making sure that your chocolate is in its purest form, then sweetened after you’ve mixed the right amounts of cacoa and milk. If you’re going to throw in something like peppermint schnapps, the chocolate should be as dark as possible to hold its own against the pungency of the mint. Do you have a name?” he asked as he got a tall cup and a marker.
Name. What name should I use? Honey Harper was out. Mickey Matthews was what he knew me as, so I should say that, but I couldn’t. No way I was using Lara Jones in case he stuck me in a cage and tried to track down my daughter. “Carrie Canary,” I finally said while his hand poised, waiting for me to say the words.
He scribbled for a long time, then got back to the task of creating the perfect hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps for someone he didn’t know.
I picked up the shot glass of green liquid and eyed it warily, while keeping him in my periphery. I should definitely not drink something he gave me, but I’d watched him juice it right there. I took a sip, mostly for something to do with my hands besides mangle my sunglasses. He hadn’t really looked at me since I took them off. I downed the rest of the glass and slapped it down on the counter while he brought back my now capped drink for Gloria. I should have used her name, only I didn’t want to drag her into this mess.
“Is there anything else you’d like?” he asked with a gentle smile as he handed it over the counter. “A muffin, a bagel…”
I took the cup and looked down to see the word wife scrawled across the cup along with an elaborate design that matched the tattoo on his inside forearm, where you could see the perfectly sculpted muscle beneath his rolled up blue shirt sleeves.
“Maybe a divorce?” he added with a hardness to his voice that made the hair on my neck stand up. When I looked up at him, the eyes were rocks and glaciers beneath the water that would rip apart your underbelly and feast on your intestines.
I took a step back, and he moved suddenly, vaulting over the counter with unnatural speed until he was right up against me, the back of my thighs pressed against the edge of a table, pinning me in place.
Run! Run and never look back! my sense of self-preservation screamed at me, but I’d come here for the only thing that was worth more than my own life and freedom. I stood there, frozen, paralyzed between necessity to leave and the desperation to stay and find answers about Sam, until he bent his head and licked me, from the edge of my scooped-neck shirt up my neck to my jaw, his wet tongue tensile, long, flexible, shocking. The second time he bent his head, I woke up enough to dump the hot chocolate over his dark locks, using the first weapon handy against assault that I wouldn’t stand for, particularly when it felt so good.
His tongue skated over my neck, then flicked over my jaw and the corner of my mouth before he raised his head with dark liquid running down his forehead and nose, dripping from his dark brows.
He’d licked me with a tongue that defied the laws of human biology. He was definitely more than human, probably something that grew ears and even more facial fur on the full moon, something aggressive, angry, and terrifying, and I’d dumped hot water on his head.
“Not a divorce,” I said breathlessly, terrified, picking up the conversation where it had left off and hoping that he came with me.
“No? You aren’t here with your pretty boy to get your legal freedom so that you can make him an honorable man?”
“I couldn’t make Danny honorable with something as impermanent as marriage.”
His eyes hardened. “Ah, yes. You taught me about the impermanence of marriage. I thought that it correlated with commitment, but you knew so much better than I did. What do you want? Money? You have to earn a man’s money by suffering in the marriage. If you don’t suffer, how can you deserve your pay?”
“I don’t want your money,” I said through clenched teeth. That was annoying, because I hadn’t been aware that he was a filthy rich mob boss until after I’d known him for two years. His dirty money was the last thing I’d ask him for.
“Then get out.” His eyes burned and a dark red film coated the brown for a moment when I saw the monster inside of him, the ravening wolf that would rip me apart and swallow my heart whole.
I wanted to leave while he was giving me that option, but I wasn’t here because I wanted to be. I shoved him back a step, surprised when he actually moved, until his back was pressed against the edge of the bar. “I’m not leaving until I’ve talked to you.”
“No? You taught me how easy it is to leave, to walk out without a word, without a letter, without anything except a ring that I gave you. Get out of my shop before I throw you out.” He growled, a low rumble that was the most terrifying thing I’d ever heard, but I only twisted his shirt in my hand and held on, in spite of being shaken to my core by fear and furious hunger.
“You lied to me about everything you are, about your very nature. I’m not going to apologize for leaving while I could.”
“I never did anything to harm you. You left because you were afraid, like you are right now, stinking with fear. I don’t want you and your fear. Get out!” His growl wasn’t as terrifying as his hand gripping the back of my head, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away. If he kissed me, I’d be lost, so helplessly gone, and I would never, ever recover.
The bells jangled raucously, and his head came up as he looked over my shoulder at the new customers. That’s when I realized how deserted the shop had become until Danny and I were the only ones.
At the door, Tom, Gloria, and Sammy stood, staring at us with big eyes and slack mouths.
Tom put his hands in the air, holding up a pair of knives. “We come in peace. You should know that the female you’re about to shred is part of Gloria’s pack, an unofficial member of Lucky Mayhem’s—that is, Lucy Darnell’s—foster family.”
Joe rumbled deep in his chest and then spun me away from him and pushed me towards the group at the door. Danny was half out of his chair, watching everything with big eyes.
“Come back tomorrow,” Joe ordered, nodding at Danny to get out then turned and vaulted back over the counter and disappeared through the doorway into the back, leaving us in an empty coffee shop, with the gentle sounds of the relaxing music playing in the background.