The Heat

  She dropped the toothbrush in the sink and stared at her reflection.

  Her gold-flecked-brown eyes were no longer simply gold-flecked. They were full on gold and they were glowing.

  Her heart rate sped up at once and her breathing quickened. Not a single flaw marred her skin, which also seemed to glow, as if lit from within. There was an ethereal shimmer to her honeyed hair, even while it was wet. Her teeth seemed even whiter than they had been before.

  “Holy mother…” she whispered. No wonder she felt beautiful. She really was.

  * * * *

  Tabitha wasn’t sure how it had happened, and she almost didn’t care why, but she was more happy that she would care to admit that she was laying next to a man – a werewolf – as incredibly powerful and sexy as James Valentine. One of her arms was draped over his chest, and her head was propped up on his bicep. The fingers of his left hand lazily played with a lock of her blue-black hair.

  Tabitha took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of him. And then she asked something that she’d been working up the nerve to ask ever since he’d made that phone call to his pack while they were on the plane to New Mexico.

  “James…” She bit her lip. “Why were you workin’ for Cole?”

  Valentine glanced down at Tabitha as she looked up at him and it looked as if he was considering the question carefully. Eventually, he hugged her closer to him and sighed. “I was born in a little town in Arizona in 1881. But my mate was born in 1933, in Mississippi. She was beautiful; a truly breathtaking Dormant. But she was born into the most unfortunate form possible for that place and time.” His expression took on a far-off look.

  “She was black,” Tabitha guessed.

  James nodded once and, as he continued, Tabitha could almost see the images flitting behind his molten silver eyes. She was growing acquainted with the waves of power that rolled off of the alpha werewolf at this point. Right now they were waves of sadness and an anger that would never fully go away.

  “We met in 1955 and were in love at once. We mated and I changed her and she became pregnant.” He paused, his tone growing more quiet. “She was a very religious woman, despite the fact that I threw more than one curve ball into her philosophy with our supernatural existence.” At that, he smiled a small smile and Tabitha could hear the love in his voice. “But she was stubborn. She insisted we be married. There was no arguing with her; especially after her transition.”

  He sighed. “So, we were married in a very private ceremony in the only church with a pastor that would see a white man and a black woman joined in holy matrimony. I had my reservations. We both did. We knew what people were saying. Hell, I could hear them a mile away.”

  He shrugged beneath Tabitha’s head. “But we kept them to ourselves.” He stopped then and drew a deep, calming breath, as if steeling himself to go on. “They set fire to our home while I was away one morning. She was nine months pregnant; werewolves have the same gestation period as humans. She had had a hard night. Our son had been kicking her in the ribs.”

  Tabitha could see the shadows cross his handsome face. His gray eyes took on a slight glow. “He never let her sleep….” He fell silent for several full minutes. Tabitha knew enough not to break that silence.

  Finally, he cleared his throat and went on. “When I got home, the second floor was already caving in. Our neighbors begged me not to go inside. But I had to try.” He looked down at Tabitha then and gestured to the scar on his arm. Then the one on his cheek. “I found her on the first floor. She’d fallen through when the wooden beams of our bedroom gave out beneath her. They had--” He closed his eyes.

  Tabitha held her breath.

  “They had cut my son out of her and she hadn’t had a chance to heal completely before she and the baby were trapped in the fire.” He opened his eyes again and stared unseeing at the ceiling. “There was no heartbeat. Not from her. And not from him.”

  Tabitha felt the tears gather in her eyes. Her guts clenched tight as she gently raised her hand to touch his cheek. She could not imagine how hellish it would have been for him – finding his wife’s beautiful body, tortured and burnt into an unrecognizable form. And then finding his murdered child. The pain that she could not imagine was still unbearable. She didn’t need to tell him that she was sorry. He already knew. But she said it anyway. “James… My God –” She broke off, swallowed hard, and finished, “I’m so sorry.”

  James took a minute to compose himself and then continued, this part of his story quite obviously a lot less painful than the first part. “A few weeks later, a man with green eyes approached me. I could smell that he was a werewolf. So, when he asked me for a minute of my time, I agreed. I had nothing left to lose.”

  “Cole?”

  James nodded. “He told me that he could find the men who had killed my wife. He wouldn’t tell me how he knew, but I didn’t care. He tracked them down and I took their lives.” He paused again, letting the memories slide through his mind. “I worked for him on and off from that day forward. I figured I owed him.”

  Tabitha waited a good long while before asking her next question. When she did, she framed it as carefully as she could. “Did he kill all of those people?”

  James, in turn, took a while in answering. Finally, he said simply, “No.”

  Tabitha frowned. “How do you know?”

  “For a long time, I didn’t. I thought there was a chance he was the murderer. He was always disappearing at odd times – right off the radar. And it always turned out that those times coincided exactly with the times of the most publicized, most vicious murders. Serial killings. Things like that.”

  “But?”

  James smiled a small smile. “But once, just after he did one of his disappearing acts, I went looking for him. I found him, too. He appeared out of thin air, breathing hard and covered in blood. He was sobbing.” He paused and seemed to consider something. “In that moment, I knew. I knew he was involved somehow – but that he wasn’t guilty. Not for the deaths of the innocent.”

  Tabitha had nothing to say to that. It was an answer that bred more questions.

  “He saved Lily from the fire in New Mexico,” James went on. “And then he let her go… It was so unlike the image of him that werewolves have built up in our minds over the decades. It was much more like the Malcolm Cole that helped me track down my wife’s killers fifty years ago.”

  Tabitha thought about this in stoic silence. Then resolutely she pulled the covers back up over them both and closed her eyes as he wrapped his strong arms around her.

  Chapter Seventeen: Good Cop, Bad Cop

  Lily nervously adjusted the small silk scarf she’d tied around her neck. She felt so much like Sookie Stackhouse in True Blood that it was plain ridiculous. How obvious could a person be?

  She had to remind herself that vampires didn’t really exist and that practically no one realized werewolves existed either and that anyone noticing the scarf would simply assume she was making a fashion statement. Besides – it was kind of cute. Kelly, the Starbucks barista, was always very honest with her and she’d told her as much. And the color matched her hair.

  Christ, I’m giddy, Lily thought to herself. I sound like a teenager.

  She sighed and sat back in the black lounge chair beside one of the several outdoor tables they’d set up around the perimeter of the coffee shop. The sun had only risen on the horizon a few short minutes ago. She was never up this early in the morning. She was a night person, by nature. But there was so much going on inside of her and around her that there had been no way in hell she could have stayed home.

  She’d lost her own cell phone somewhere between Tabitha’s house and Daniel’s, but Tabitha had a landline for her computer, so she’d used that phone to try reaching Tabitha’s cell. It had gone straight to voice mail. Lily smiled. Three guesses as to that one, she thought. And she didn’t want to bother Daniel. He had innocent lives in his hands at the moment.

  The next number she’d dialed wa
s for the taxi service. She’d taken a taxi to her own apartment, retrieved some cash and her license and a few other necessities, crammed them into a purse, and then driven her own car to Bluebonnet. She was growing quite familiar with that particular street again.

  Now Lily took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could smell the coffee out here, the exhaust from the street, the rain from last night, the fresh earth from a garden somewhere nearby. She could hear people talking inside. She had to fight not to eaves drop. She could hear their heartbeats.

  One of them was getting louder. Drawing nearer.

  “Miss St.Claire?”

  Lily looked up, almost making the mistake of taking off her sunglasses as she did so. She’d put the shades on when she’d realized that she didn’t, as of yet, have the expertise in werewolf powers to make the glow in her eyes subside. And Daniel wasn’t there to help her learn. Luckily, the sun was in that uber annoying and bright place on the horizon that practically screamed for sunglasses.

  A man stood beside the table, a hard back book in one of his hands, a sleeved paper cup of coffee in the other. He had short brown-black hair and blue gray eyes. Lily recognized him at once.

  She’d gone to high school with him eons ago and now he was a cop who worked with Daniel. He was currently out of uniform, but she vaguely recalled that he’d been one of the men seated in the marked car that had been posted in front of Daniel’s house a few days ago.

  “Yes?” she said, shifting in her seat. “Officer…” She searched her recollection for his name. Allan something.

  He smiled an understanding smile and flushed slightly. “I’m sorry. I forget when I’m not wearing my name tag. You probably don’t remember me from high school either – ”

  “Yes, actually, I do.” She gently insisted. “Allan, right?”

  He blinked. And then he, too smiled, appearing for all the world like a young Anthony Michael Hall who’d just learned that the prom queen knew he existed. “Yeah, that’s right. Allan Jennings.” He put his coffee down on the table beside them and extended his hand in a friendly gesture. She shook his hand and cocked her head to one side.

  “Jennings – you know, if I recall correctly,” she said, “you were quite the genius in school. Weren’t you captain of the debate team and didn’t you graduate with all kinds of honors?”

  He blushed and held up his hand, as if to spare her from saying anything further. “I did okay.”

  Lily had to smile at that. He was modest. But he must be very nervous, she thought. It was strange to her how hard his heart was beating. “So… I thought you’d be a lawyer or a politician. Or, maybe accountant to the stars,” she told him, flashing a perfect white smile. “What’s the deal with the law enforcement gig?”

  He picked up his coffee and took a sip, flinching when it was too hot. Then he shrugged. “You know how it goes. The geeks really just want to play football.”

  Lily laughed. He was quite charming. He’d grown since high school; he must have shot up half a foot and he’d filled out nicely. She glanced at his ring finger, which she had a horrible habit of doing when meeting a half-way decent man. No ring.

  And, as she also had the horrible habit of doing, she then wondered why.

  “I take it this is your day off?” she asked, knowing that it must be or he would be mired in the murder muck that Daniel was currently trapped in.

  When he nodded, she gestured to the seat across from her. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but would you care to join me? I’ve been snubbed by both my best friend and my boyfriend and I could use the company.” She desperately wanted to take off her sunglasses, as she’d always considered it rude to talk to someone while wearing shades. But, she wasn’t sure whether she could chance Jennings – or anyone else, for that matter – noticing the odd brightness to her now gold eyes.

  Jennings shrugged, nodded, and sat down as he again attempted a sip from his cup of coffee. He put his book on the table and leaned back in the chair. “You know, you weren’t a C student in school either, as I recall. You did pretty well. I heard you became a social worker.”

  Lily nodded. “I guess my own parents weren’t messed up enough for me to get my fill of family problems. Had to absorb everyone else’s too.”

  At this, he shook his head. “Actually, it fits you. You were always the one who stood up for the little guy. Even stood up for me, once.”

  Lily blinked. “You’re kidding.” She didn’t remember that. But the truth was, he was right; she’d defended a lot of people in school, from kindergarten on up. She didn’t remember their names, just the anger she felt at seeing them picked on. It had always colored her vision red, and she’d always jumped headlong into the fray.

  “Nope,” Jennings smiled. “Not kidding. Remember Rosella Barrios and her boyfriend?”

  Lily nodded. “Oh yeah. I remember her. And him.” Did she ever. Rosella and Tabitha had been arch enemies in school. Barrios had done everything from smear Vaseline onto Tabitha’s locker combination – to set the entire locker on fire. Her brute of a boy friend was no better. “I heard Martin Gomez was doing time these days,” Lily said.

  Jennings nodded. “But long before his days of auto theft and breaking and entering, his pastime mostly involved making my life miserable. One Tuesday morning, he ripped my guitar out of my hand and ran across the school with it.” He pinned her with a frankly admiring gaze. “You chased him down and took it back.”

  Lily stared at Allan through her sunglasses. Then she couldn’t help herself when she took them off and stared at him some more. “Oh my God, I do remember that. Only, I had no idea it was your guitar. I just knew it wasn’t his.” She’d cornered Gomez against the wire fence on the opposite end of the parking lot and he’d laughed at her crazy "gringa chica" tenacity and handed the guitar over while he shook his head. She’d walked back with the instrument, but by that time, the bell had rung and no one was left in the halls. So she’d turned it into the office.

  Well, now she knew. Apparently, it had been Allan’s. Lily shook her head and laughed softly. “I hope it didn’t get hurt in the chase.”

  “No,” Allan assured her. “Not that you’d have been able to tell. I couldn’t play worth a damn.” He sighed and scooted his chair out, standing slowly. “It’s been great catching up, Miss St.Claire – ”

  “Please, call me Lily.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Lily, it’s truly been a pleasure. I’m afraid I have to be somewhere else right now, but I’m sure I’ll see you around. You know, hanging out with underdog runts and riding off on stolen motorcycles.”

  Lily blushed and covered her face with her hands.

  He laughed. “Catch you later.”

  She nodded and shooed him away. When she looked up, she saw him climb into a silver Dodge Challenger parked at the curb several cars down the street. He started it up and pulled away. Lily watched him go, wondering quietly, why his heart had been beating so hard and so fast. And she was fairly new at this scent thing, so she couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn that, quite suddenly, he had smelled like… anger.

  She shrugged it off and finished her coffee. Then she popped a breath mint, chewed it up, and threw her cup in the trash.

  The air was quite thick with moisture this morning and she could smell a storm on the way. She’d been able to do that while human; now it was almost certain. It may be clear as a bell at the moment, but by two p.m., there would be thunder and lightning.

  She smiled. She left the Starbucks patio and began to stroll up Bluebonnet toward the Mall of Louisiana, where her car was parked.

  By the time she got to it, the wind was already picking up. Lily looked up at the sky as she unlocked her door. In the distance, a rolling black storm cloud was riding toward the city. She slid into her seat just as the faintest sound of thunder reached her ears. She wondered whether she was the only one at the Mall of Louisiana who could hear that particular thunder clap.

  And then she froze. For, beneat
h the sound of the thunder rode another sound. Fast and hard, like a drum.

  Before she could fully realize that it was the sound of a heart beating, the owner of that heart rose up in the back seat and wrapped one strong arm around her neck, yanking her unsuspecting body hard against her seat. His other hand held a gun, and screwed onto the end of that gun was a silencer.

  Without pause, he shoved the barrel of the gun against her ribcage and pulled the trigger. Once, twice – three, four, five times. Again and again, he emptied the rounds into her chest, until the 9mm was empty and seventeen bullet holes fought to close in Lily’s unconscious form.

  Allan Jennings opened the passenger-side door to Lily’s car, got out, and then shut the door again, glancing around quickly as he did so. No one was paying any attention. Then he got back into the car on the driver’s side, shoving Lily’s body into the passenger seat to make room. Blood oozed from her wounds, drenching her clothes and the cloth material of the seats beneath her.

  Jennings wasted no time, moving with efficient speed as he pulled a set of handcuffs from his back pocket and positioned Lily’s wrists so that they were gathered at her back. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you to check the back seat of your car before getting in, Lily?” He snapped the cuffs on her wrists and then pulled a second pair from the waistband of his jeans beneath his t-shirt. Both sets of these particular handcuffs were made, not for humans, but for werewolves, so they expanded to a larger size than the standard police-issues. And Lily had small ankles. He was able to ensnare her legs easily.

  Once he had her firmly secured, he sat back up and gazed down at her. The point-blank gun shots wouldn’t kill her, but had knocked her out almost instantly, just as he had known they would. They always did.

  Lily now lay with her eyes closed, her head resting against the door. The way she was cuffed caused her shoulders to roll back, and her collarbone and breasts were more pronounced.