Chapter 6
Frankie grabbed Detective Huge Disappointment and started dragging him upstairs whether he wanted to go or not.
The last thing she needed was for Hazel to be caught harboring a naked grizzly bear.
And damn it, Delphine was likely to kill the guy on sight—or at least try to—and then Frankie would be forced to defend him, and the shit would really hit the fan.
She drew on her hybrid strength to haul him upstairs.
She didn’t go ugly-faced to do it, but it took all her focus to keep her abilities under control.
Didn’t the man have an ounce of fat? No, the guy was all muscle, which was lovely to look at but weighed a ton.
By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they were both panting. But then she looked at his face.
Oh hell. He wasn’t being stubborn. The guy really was holding on by a thread.
His face was pale, and his breath came in sketchy pants.
But the real tip off was that he felt unnaturally cold.
That was a telltale sign of a shifter who’d burned through way too much of his energy.
He didn’t have the strength to heat his own body.
“Just how often have you been shifting lately?” Not to mention that brutal fight with Jayce and getting shot a couple times.
It was a wonder the guy was standing at all.
He didn’t answer, not that she expected him to.
There was no way they could get to the attic now.
She’d just have to pray that the second floor was hidden enough.
So she maneuvered him into the nearest bedroom, recently vacated by an abused mother and her three kids.
She and Hazel had managed to get the family out before the quarantine, thank God, so that left the large bed and two cots conveniently empty.
She helped him sit on the nearest cot, then took a moment to check his pulse and study his gorgeous blue eyes. Well, those were still pretty, and at the moment they were focused on her face. How could a guy on the verge of passing out have eyes that seemed crystal bright?
“I’m trying to help,” she said as the doorbell rang.
“Then get me a phone.”
Her cell was downstairs. She’d taken it off to spar with Hazel, and now she was up here without any way to call for help. “It’s a delicate situation. I want us to work together.”
He arched a brow. He looked like Spock in a very sexy Vulcan moment. Which was when she was forced to see the logic of the situation.
She’d wanted to manage this carefully so as to get the fewest number of people killed. But maybe that was walking too fine a line. And bears were not known for their finesse, though she’d hoped Detective Kennedy was different.
“Fine,” she finally said. “Right after Delphine leaves, okay? But you have to listen to the full story.”
He nodded, though it might have been because he was too weak to keep his head upright. The doorbell rang again, and she heard Hazel respond like the old woman she definitely was not.
“I’m coming! Geez, my knees don’t work so well anymore, you know?”
That was total bullshit. Hazel’s knees worked fine, even though she’d just celebrated her sixtieth birthday. She was giving Frankie time to hide the detective. Plus, she probably enjoyed making Delphine wait. Frankie liked it, too, since she knew Delphine was a two-faced, backstabbing bitch.
The doorbell rang a third time and Hazel started undoing the locks.
Every click sounded loud to Frankie’s enhanced hearing while she maneuvered herself to see everything that went on downstairs.
Hazel had set up a large mirror in the hallway, angled just right so someone in the bedroom could watch while still hidden behind carefully placed furniture.
She saw clearly when Hazel opened the door to confront Delphine.
The woman’s expression was vaguely bored as she stood there dripping with costume jewelry and wearing skintight leggings and a loose blouse that accentuated her curves.
It had one more advantage, too. Clothing that stretched or ripped told everyone she could go wolf anytime.
Sure, the witch had shifted only once during her teens, but that put her well ahead of Frankie who—until recently—hadn’t done anything more than stand there and look stupid.
“Yes?” Hazel asked, her voice weaker than usual.
“You’re Hazel Smith, right?” Delphine asked. Then she continued without waiting for an answer. “You’re supposed to come to the community center. And where’s Frankie? She needs to hightail it there, too.”
Frankie’s body tensed. Her compulsion to be seen was pushing her to boldly confront Delphine and tell the bitch what she thought. But that was stupid, especially if Hazel could handle things herself. Still, the need was like a physical itch under her skin.
“We’re supposed to stay inside,” Hazel said. “There’s a quarantine on. Don’t you listen to the news?”
Delphine pursed her perfect lips. “Of course, I listen to the news.”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “Not unless The Real Housewives counts.”
“That’s why you’re supposed to come to the center. So we can protect you.”
“I can protect myself,” Hazel said, as she tried to close the door.
Delphine was faster than that. She caught the closing door with the flat of her hand and held it open. The woman may have shifted only once, but she had a shifter’s strength. Hazel wasn’t going to win that fight.
“You’re a valued part of our community,” Delphine said, her voice so bored, she sounded like she was reading off a cue card.
“I’m sure I am,” Hazel snorted. “Thanks, but—”
“You’re coming, Hazel. No argument.” Her expression didn’t change, but her tone was chilling. “Now go get Frankie. I’ve wasted enough time on that girl’s silliness.” She made it sound like she was waiting on a petulant child.
Frankie muttered under her breath, “We’re the same fucking age, bitch.”
The detective chuckled, his voice equally low. “You kiss your mama with that mouth?”
She shot him a glare, but he just raised that sexy eyebrow. Damn Hazel for making her watch Star Trek reruns. That expression totally worked for her. Meanwhile, Hazel was standing her ground.
“Frankie left here to make the rounds of the Galster apartment building. Most folks there are pretty sick. She’s helping out.”
“Bullshit. She’s here. I can smell her.”
Hazel nodded. “She was here, then she left. Check with Noelle, apartment 6E. Those twins are tag-teaming the vomit.”
Delphine’s response was to sniff in disdain as she stomped inside the house. Hazel could have stopped her, but she was playing weakling right now. She always said to pick your fights carefully. Apparently, she wasn’t ready for a showdown with Delphine.
“Why does it smell like a sewer in here?” Delphine asked.
“Probably because Frankie’s been helping out with the sick kids.”
Detective Kennedy’s voice rumbled in her ear. “Or crawling through the sewer.”
His voice sent shivers down her spine. Something about the note of humor in his gravelly voice was really sexy.
In an annoying kind of way. “And helping out with the kids,” she said in a low whisper.
Last thing she wanted was for Delphine’s shifter ears to hear her.
But it was hard enough to stay hidden upstairs, she couldn’t keep silent when Kennedy pushed her.
“Do you know how many times I’ve been thrown up on lately? ”
He wavered where he sat on the cot. Damn, he was really in a bad way. There was perspiration on his upper lip, and she reached out to steady him. Meanwhile, Delphine was sniffing her way deeper into the house.
“Who else is here with you?”
“No one now,” Hazel said. “I’m still cleaning upstairs.
Norma puked up an entire pizza. I sent her home yesterday, but it’s hard on my knees to climb up there.
” She grabbed hold of Delphine’s arm. “You’d do me a kindness if you’d help me clean it up.
I got a bucket and mop in the closet. I just got too tired, you know? ”
The detective shifted uncomfortably on the cot. Probably preparing to fight if Delphine came upstairs.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Delphine’s got an uber-sensitive nose. She won’t come within a hundred miles of vomit if she can help it.” It probably helped that neither of them smelled fresh. She’d cleaned up after putting Kennedy in the closet, but Delphine’s nose was really sharp.
Sure enough, the woman turned her perfectly sloped nose toward the stairs and immediately looked away. “No thanks,” she huffed. “Look, just call her, will you? Her brother’s worried about her.”
Not true. The only brother who ever worried about her was dead under suspicious circumstances. That was two years ago and soon afterward, Frankie had learned to make herself scarce.
“You want Frankie, you go get her.” Hazel gestured down the street. “It’s just a couple blocks away.”
“Call her.”
Hazel folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not the one who needs to talk to her.” That, plus, Frankie’s phone was downstairs. Leaving it there had been a major mistake.
Delphine sniffed again. “Why does everyone have to be so difficult?” She pulled out her cell phone and stabbed at it with a blood red nail. Eventually, she put it to her ear. “She’s at the Galster Street property. Apartment 6E. Go get her.”
Frankie winced. Noelle would not thank her if Delphine’s goons woke the twins. Meanwhile, Delphine gestured to the front door. “Come on, Hazel. Get in the car. I’ll drive you.”
“I’m staying right here.”
Frankie felt her hackles rise at Hazel’s tone of voice. She’d lost the quavering old lady act and had shifted into bring-it mode. She was obviously tired of the supercilious bitch and was ready to kick ass. And not being stupid, Delphine recognized the change in attitude.