Chapter 3
Chapter Three
An hour and fifteen minutes later, Gabby arrived at her destination. She forked over an exorbitant fee to park her car and was walking through the front door of DeLux Café in no time at all.
Good thing too, as her stomach had started to complain about the lack of food inside of it a good twenty minutes ago.
She shivered despite the heat and stood waiting for the hostess to greet her.
She was always chilly, no matter the surrounding weather.
Her stomach growled again, and she put a hand on her belly as if that would shut the thing up.
“I’m looking for Mariah Bailey Keen,” she informed the very pretty hostess, hoping like hell the woman could not hear the incessant gurgling noises.
“Certainly, miss,” the woman replied coolly. She glanced at her tablet, raised her eyes to look Gabby over once more before pasting a smile to her face.
Gabby knew what she was thinking. Something along the lines of what was a chubby little nobody doing meeting one of Los Angeles’ top realtors for dinner at this hard to get into hotspot.
Well, Gabby had one answer for the female.
Noneya.
As in none of ya beeswax.
Grrr.
Eeek!
Was she actually growling?
She shook her head, pretending she did not just make that horrible noise.
“Are you alright?” The hostess asked.
“Certainly,” she replied sweetly.
Too sweetly, in all honesty, but she was trying to keep herself calm.
What she really wanted to do was reach out and smack the thin female.
Oh my, she thought with more than a little trepidation.
Maybe a drink or appetizer would put her in a better mood.
She’d heard of people getting hangry, but this was the first time she understood what they meant.
Easy, Gabs, remember you are a lady.
She sucked in a calming breath, wrinkling her nose at the odd scents she was picking up.
There were too many to pin down, so she lifted her hand on the pretense of scratching her nose just to breathe the light perfume she’d spritzed on her wrist before leaving the house.
It was a little trick she’d picked up a few months ago when her symptoms had started.
Along with her headaches and stomach cramps, Gabriella had developed a bloodhound’s sense of smell. Disconcerting, to say the least. Especially when she’d looked online and read it could indicate some very serious illnesses, including certain types of autoimmune disease and brain tumors.
“I have to tell Mim,” she murmured.
“Excuse me?” The hostess glanced back at her, but Gabby just forced a smile and shook her head.
“Nothing,” Gabby replied.
The line outside DeLux Cafe was ridiculous for a Wednesday. Gabby glanced out the floor to ceiling windows as they walked, shaking her head at the overdressed would be patrons. There were more designer gowns and jewels outside the restaurant than could be found on a red carpet during awards week.
That was almost nothing compared to the variety within the place.
There were people dressed in torn jeans and leather, evening gowns that cost more than her rent back on the East Coast, and almost every state of dress in between.
A wild, eclectic mix that made Gabby smile despite feeling like a butterfly on display, with her wings pinned to a corkboard.
Everyone was staring. At what, she did not know.
Dear God, tell me they didn’t hear my stomach growl too?
This had to be the only town in the world where folks went to expensive restaurants and ordered ridiculously priced hard to pronounce food only to stare at it. Well, Gabby was not one of those people. She enjoyed a wide variety of culinary delights. To eat, not to just look at.
Welcome to LA, she thought, still following the slender young woman through the highly polished café.
Leave it to Mim to find a place like this.
White tiles gleamed spectacularly, red velvet drapes hung from impossibly high windows, falling in delicate waves all the way to the polished floors.
The atmosphere was strange, and the scents, far too many, made Gabby shiver uncomfortably.
People sat in tables, two by two, with odd little black boxes on each one.
Some sort of weird new ordering system, maybe?
She really did not know. There were red and pink paper hearts, balloons, and cherubs floating about or stuck to the walls.
Strange décor for an upscale eatery, a bit tacky to be truthful, and by Gabby’s calculations, at least a month too early for Valentine’s Day. Strange place, she thought amusedly.
Finally, Gabriella spotted Mim with two other gorgeous females sitting at a long table with a sign that read “Sign Up For Speed Dating Here!’.
Uh oh.
Her pulse sped up, and Gabby’s heart beat faster.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
Not again!
“Gabs!” Mim shouted before she could turn on her heel and run out of the place.
The two impossibly beautiful women beside her turned to stare at Gabriella and she felt very much like a piece of chocolate in front of two sweets-starved supermodels.
Gulp.
“Don’t you run away now, silly.” Mim laughed, and the sound was very much like tinkling bells.
Gabriella released a sigh and shook her head. She used to envy her stepmother’s beauty. Even though she was not bad looking, cute and chubby as opposed to statuesque and stunning, Gabriella loved the woman too much to let anything come between them.
Even if she was the worst sort of meddler.
“Gabs, let me introduce Eve and Aphrodite.” Her stepmother indicated the almost too beautiful to look at brunette and a blonde with a brilliant, perhaps even a little feral, smile on her perfect face.
“They are hosting tonight’s little get together.
Now, I know you said not to interfere, but I thought this would be a great way for you to meet some new people! ”
“Uh, nice to meet you, ladies. Excuse us a sec,” she said, then turned to face her stepmother. “Mim, what are you doing? I did not sign up for this.”
“Honey, look, I went through your laptop, and I saw what you’ve been googling—”
“What! How could you do that?”
Anger, embarrassment, and fear warred within Gabs as her stepmother admitted to snooping through her things.
Ugh.
She’d thought they’d been through this back in high school. There was a period where Mim looked through everything of Gabby’s without permission until finally she had to confront her.
But now, when she could possibly be ill, it felt like the worst kind of betrayal.
“Look, Gabby, I love you like you were my own. Hell, you are my own! And there is no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to break it to you.” Mim cleared her throat and grabbed Gabby’s elbow with a surprisingly strong grip, hauling her to a quiet corner.
“You aren’t dying. Those cramps and headaches, the slight increase in aggression you’ve been experiencing? Well, honey, you’re experiencing your first Change.”
“My what? You’re telling me I am going through menopause? I’m not even thirty!” She hissed, rubbing her forehead at the sudden sharp pang that went through her.
“No dear, not menopause. This Change is different. You are a Werewolf. A Shifter. Like me and your mother before you. I smelled it on you when you were a pup, but then you didn’t Change, and I thought it skipped you. It does that sometimes. Especially back when the Curse was strong.”
“I’m cursed too?”
“Yes. No. Hmm.” Mim rolled her eyes, tapping a manicured nail against her chin while she gathered her thoughts.
“Well, you see, it was never just you. Besides, no, we are not cursed. Not anymore. All Werewolves used to be bound to the cycles of the moon because of an ancient trespass. It was known as the Curse of St. Natalis, but this spunky little Wolf from New Jersey ended all that and now, dormant Werewolves, such as yourself, are waking up all over the place. Oh honey! I am so proud of you!” Mim gasped and hugged Gabby tight against her.
The woman had always been strong. And she still looked young as ever. She’d never given any indication she was crazy, though. Gabby blinked rapidly.
She should be freaking out. In fact, she should be calling for help.
The kind that came with vans and orderlies who carried needles and special little jackets with belts wrapped around them, so the crazy folk didn’t hurt themselves or anyone else.
And yet, something in the back of Gabby’s mind accepted her stepmother’s words.
It was almost like another voice whispered to her from the dark crevices of her brain.
She’s right, Gabby.
We are Wolf.
“Uh, Mim, why don’t we sit down here. We can call a doctor—”
“So, is she ready to go? Round one is gonna start up in a bit and without her we’re short a girl,” Eve stage-whispered, eyeing Gabby, not unkindly.
“Are you thinking upstairs or downstairs, Mariah?” The blonde tapped her chin, her pointy teeth catching the lighting from one of the hanging globes overhead as she spoke to Gabby’s stepmother.
Gabby’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as she tried to comprehend what the heck they were talking about.
Was her stepmom losing it?
Maybe some early form of dementia or psychosis. The tall, statuesque woman couldn’t be a Werewolf. And if Mim was one of them, then Gabby, who stood five foot three and outweighed the woman by a good thirty pounds, definitely could not be a... a... whatever the heck she thought she was.
A Wolf.
And yes, you can be one.
In fact, you are.
That husky voice inside Gabriella’s brain whispered once more, causing the woman to let out a short eeep that brought Mim’s and the other female’s eyes directly back to her.
“Uh, round one? Of what?” Gabby asked stupidly.
“Downstairs will be best, I think. Thank you, Eve.” Mim stood, nudging Gabby gently in the direction the blonde was leading her.
“I thought we were having dinner.”
“Well, dear, I promised your father I would take care of you, and I am,” Mim said as she managed to half push, half drag Gabby to the stop of a long, winding staircase that led somewhere below the DeLux Café. “You might not believe it, sweetheart, but this is for your own good.”
“But you just told me I’m a Werewolf,” Gabby hissed quietly as more people shoved past them to get down the stairs. “And now you want me to go speed dating?”
“Yes. It will be good for you. You need to get out. I know you are a goody goody, Gabriella Keen, but your Wolf is coming on fast and you’ll need help. Nothing better than a romance to get the old supernatural blood pumping! Cha chow.” Mim winked, and Gabby cringed.
Why did old people not know they were old?
She wondered as she felt someone tug on her hand. Gabby had no choice but to follow, barely making out bouncy brown hair and a killer figure.
Oh, it was Aphrodite.