Dead Shifter Walking (18 page)

I felt the tension in Blake as he blocked the
doorway radiate out in waves. He had declined my help, so I kept my
hands to myself, but his blocking the door was annoying. They must
have been staring at each other for at least three minutes before I
called out, “Hi, Mal.”

Blake moved to let me by. “Olivia,” Mallory said
with her back to me. Her voice sounded soft and I could image why.
I moved behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist drawing in
the pain, frustration, and the terror she might fail to keep her
people safe. I stayed that way until I felt her shoulders relax
against me.

“Thanks,” she whispered, softly pulling
away.

I staggered slightly, leaning against the desk
with a million high-tech gadgets, displaying the outside mess of
protestors.

Blake had finally entered the room sitting
behind me.

“What do you want me to do?” Blake asked, the
anger and hostility dripping from each word.

“Fix it,” Mallory growled massaging her
temples.

“How?” Blake asked, standing and throwing a
keyboard against the wall. “How the fuck am I supposed to fix
it?”

“I don’t know, but you are the fucking head of
security. FIX IT!” Malory finished, screaming the last words.

Fangs extended from Blake’s gums followed by
Mal’s in a wet sucking sound. I smartly backed away so I was no
long in between the two. I liked both of them, but they wouldn’t be
paying attention to the collateral damage, which included me and
the high-tech gizmos here.

Turning away from the staring and hissing
contest, I took in the rest of the room. It was larger than I had
initially thought, a long room, leading down into a tiered
auditorium of sorts. Each level had vamps behind a computer screen
busily monitoring the exterior and interior of the compound.

Stepping down to the second level, I sat next to
a dark-haired petite vamp with a pencil skirt and button-down
blouse.

We both cringed when we heard Tate start
screaming.

“Is there any way you can get the names and
addresses of the protestors?” I asked softly.

She raised an eyebrow, said nothing, continuing
to typing on her computer. I hoped she was doing as I asked. I
shifted my view to the massive screen in front of us, watching the
anger and hatred pour out of the protestors, screaming and yelling.
The worst had to be the small children in their mists. Protective
ran heavy in my nature, even of children who were not mine.

I drummed my fingers on the desk, only half
listening to the breaking of furniture behind us.

“Do you have a plan?” the petite vampire asked,
breaking her silence.

“I have the beginnings of one. Can you also find
out their jobs, churches, and where their children go to school,
please?” I asked as nicely as possible, which for me was
something.

“Only if you get them to stop breaking things,”
she replied grumpily.

I nodded, turning back to the noise and standing
with a sigh. “I have an idea,” I stated louder than needed, they
did have enhanced hearing.

They all stopped in various crouched positions
around the room. Mal raised an eyebrow, so I added, “No it doesn’t
involve killing anyone.” Unfortunately.

Tate straightened out first, adjusting his black
button-down shirt into his olive green slacks. “Olivia, how nice to
see you,” he greeted, recovering quickly.

I gave him a rueful smile, climbing out of the
pit to survey the damage. The sofa seemed intact, so I carefully
perched on it.

Mallory tossed her hair over a shoulder before
coming to sit next to me, glaring at Tate and Blake the entire
time. “So, before any of this can be implemented, there needs to be
an intelligence gathering session, which I believe one of your
employees is working on. “

Blake, his black hair disheveled, moved to right
a chair that had somehow survived the trip across the room to also
sit down.

Tate remained standing, clearly a power move,
but I wasn’t going to point that out. I did have a shred of common
sense.

“So the greatest problem I can see is not that
the protestors are harming your housemates, but the fact that the
feeling of safety in your house has been compromised,” I
surmised.

Tate growled, avoiding eye contact with me.
“I’ll take that as a—” He turned toward me, his eyes highlighted in
amber.

“Hey, Tate, I get it,” I said, easing the
situation back down, or at least attempting to. “If these
protestors showed up outside my gates, they wouldn’t live to see
the next night.”

Tate adjusted his sleeves again, looking away.
He hated to be vulnerable; we had that in common. “So,” I
continued, “the best way to stop the protestors is to show them
exactly how vulnerable they really are.”

“I thought there was no killing involved,” Blake
muttered. He earned the glare I leveled at him.

“No killing, just following. Learn their
patterns, attend their churches, befriend their neighbors, have a
reason to be at their kids’ schools, meet their family members.
Ingrain respectable vampires into their lives.” They were listening
and thinking. “If that doesn’t work, we can kill them,” I said with
a smile and a shrug.

“Do it,” Tate said before leaving.

I nodded and smiled. “Then can we go see the
professor?” I asked Blake as my phone started playing Ricky
Martin’s Shake Your Bon Bon.

Growling, I answered. “I need your help,” Kass
hissed quietly.

“What?” I asked, instantly on alert, standing as
I readied for action.

“Lorraine isn’t showing up at the Lion Ball
tonight,” Kass finished with a sense of urgency I didn’t understand
as I sat back down.

“Okay,” I said, waiting a breath for her to
continue. When she didn’t, I asked, “Do you need me to make
her?”

“No,” Kass answered hastily,” I want you to put
on a fancy dress and get your ass down there tonight.”

“Kass—” I started, rubbing the bridge of my
nose.

“Olivia, get dressed and get down there,” she
hissed before hanging up.

Heaving a sigh, I spared a look at Mal. “Can I
borrow some clothing after we finish the intel mission?”

…

I was primped, polished, and dressed in a
to-die-for navy blue dress that hugged me in all the right places.
Blake ran his roving eyes over me again as I exited the car.

Raising an eyebrow at him, I said, “Don’t worry;
I’ll behave.”

He smiled at me. “I expect nothing less from
you. You have the address to get a cab back to my place?”

I nodded, shutting the door, squaring my
shoulders, and rolling my hips. The guard at the top of the marble
stairs graciously waved me in when I explained I was late for my
date, Logan. He was human; otherwise, I doubt I would have been
allowed in.

I saw Darren first, bent low over a table,
discussing something passionately with his brother. Plastering a
soft smile on my lips that I forced to my eyes, I made my way over,
gently resting a hand on Logan’s as I sat, pulling the anger and
irritation I felt rumbling beneath the surface. Not wanting to
create gossip, I smiled warmly at Darren, who greeted me,
relieved.

“I don’t need a date,” Logan hissed at me.

I widened my smile, straightening his tie before
murmuring softly, “You certainly do not; what you need is someone
to help mask your personal problems while you deal with business.”
Snagging a glass of Champaign, I took a sip before continuing.
“Since you can’t be trusted to handle that alone at this moment,
consider me your built-in self-control.”

He watched me warily as I smiled at people
passing our table making a wide berth around the angry shifter.

Kass reappeared at that moment. “Olie, thank
goodness,” she said, sitting down next to Darren heavily.

“Thank you for coming,” Darren added,
nodding.

“Of course,” I answered, skimming Logan’s hand
again, pulling more crap out. If the asshole thought this was easy
for me, he had another thing coming. If he weren’t Darren’s
brother, I would have left him here to rot as the packs vied for a
more stable leader. As it stood, I was apparently now vested in
Logan staying the head of the shifters. I fucking hate
politics.

Suppressing a sigh, I took in the lavish
ballroom with the copper-domed ceiling and intricate marble
flooring with a second floor boasting of a gold railing. This
wasn’t an environment I saw shifters being at ease in; they were
more of a biker bar crowd, from my experience.

“Who picked the venue?” I asked as Logan took a
shot of alcohol the waiter set down.

“Guess,” Kass said from across the circle
table.

Scowling, I pushed away the glass from Logan,
mumbling, “You’re not making my job easier.”

Settling back, he kicked out his long legs,
lacing his hands across his abdomen. “How goes the case?” he asked
quietly as I sipped at my Champaign.

Giving a slight shrug, I scanned the crowed
absentmindedly. “We have a few leads; hopefully, something will pan
out. Did you check on your family plot?” I asked, returning my
attention to him.

Sitting forward, he pulled my chair closer to
his own. “Yes, and you are correct, the body of my grandfather is
missing. I’ve forwarded the list to Grams of those allowed in and
those with enough power to get in.”

Nodding I blew out a breath. “I was afraid of
that.”

“No additional murders have been reported?” he
asked.

Shaking my head, I answered, “Not that I am
aware of, but I have lost my connection to the police.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Look at you, making
friends.”

I shrugged. “It’s better they’re not involved
anyway; this is a matter for us.”

He nodded, tracking something over my left
shoulder. Turning, I smiled at the clearly out-of-place couple who
had tried very hard to fit in, based on their awkward gait and
self-conscious demeanor. Pushing out confidence and a sense of
ease, I watched the shoulders of the blonde in the breathtaking red
dress relax.

“Hello,” she greeted.

I smiled, extending my hand, as they came flush
to stand between Logan and me, even though we were still very close
together. “Hi, I’m Olivia; we were just finishing discussing some
sensitive business, but please let me scoot down so you both can
grab a seat,” I said, sliding down two chairs on the large
table.

Logan followed my movements, his darkening eyes
making me worry he was too drunk to pull this off.

The woman nodded, smiling as she sat exchanging
pleasantries with Logan, which I tuned out, focusing on Kass. She
shrugged, hiding a smile as my eyes glazed over.

Fucking politics.

The rest of the evening passed much the same. I
was overjoyed when dinner was served, but slightly disappointed
when the only thing I could eat were the over steamed veggies and
buns.

Huffing a sigh, I tried to pick around the bacon
potatoes.

Logan leaned over, grabbing a bite off my plate.
Pushing it toward him, I said, “You can have the rest; I don’t eat
meat.”

He looked as though I had grown a second head,
and I shrugged, picking at his steamed veggies in turn.

“That can’t be healthy,” he said around a
mouthful of meat.

“Neither is how much I drink,” I said with a
shrug, taking another inventory of the room. I kept smiling in
response to the curious glances we kept getting. I probably needed
to come up with a cover story on why Lorraine was not here. Telling
people she was a worthless slut would not be in keeping with
tonight’s theme of keeping the lion shifter head of the packs.

“There is dissention in my packs,” Logan rumbled
close to my ear.

“I’m aware,” I said gently. Leading wasn’t easy,
it wasn’t simple, and someone was always unhappy. Always.

“Do you need help in handling it?” I asked,
poaching the rest of the veggies.

He sighed, switching plates with me as we
huddled together, talking softly. “I’m trying to avoid a blood
bath,” he said, taking another bite.

“You’re a shifter. It’s in your nature,” I
assured him.

“And what do you know about our natures?” he
asked almost suggestively.

“Enough,” I answered, pushing back my plate and
leaning against the uncomfortable bamboo chairs, forcing myself not
to cross my arms.

The parade of people picked up now that Logan’s
shoulders had relaxed and he cracked what appeared to be a rare
smile.

Twirling my straw in the third or perhaps sixth
drink, I decided I was sufficiently liquored up enough to ask Logan
to dance at the next lull he had in visitors, which was looking to
be about now.

Leaning over, I nudged his arm, resting on the
table. “Wanna dance?” I asked hopefully. Dancing would recharge my
control and expend the annoyance I had sucked from him.

“I don’t dance,” he informed me.

I huffed as Darren cleared his throat. “With all
Olivia has done, a dance wouldn’t hurt,” he said, glaring at his
older brother. My heart warmed at Darren, trying to make my life
easier by provoking the sibling he was already having a hard time
with.

“We were just on our way to the dance floor,”
Kass said, taking Darren’s hand hurriedly.

Reluctantly, Logan stood, following my lead onto
the sparsely occupied dance floor. The ballroom was richly
decorated with a painted ceiling depicting a Centaur in battle.
Smiling, I hesitantly reached for Logan and was shocked as he
gently drew me close with calloused hands resting one massive right
hand on my hip while his left took my right hand to nestle against
his chest. The moment was charged with an intimacy I didn’t
anticipate as I belatedly realized my guards were slightly
down.

That was the second time today; damn, so much
for my perfect control. Logan shifted under my slight weight at his
shoulder. “Sorry,” I muttered building my walls back up.