Every Which Way But Dead (50 page)

“Takata,” I said as we approached, and he came back to himself. “I'd like you to meet David Hue. He's the insurance adjustor who helped me get to Saladan.”

“David,” Takata said, taking off his glove before extending his thin long hand. “Nice to meet you. It looks like you escaped unscathed from Rachel's latest run.”

David smiled warmly without showing his teeth. “Pretty much,” he said as he released his hand and rocked back a step. “Though I wasn't sure when those handguns showed up.” Making a mock shudder, he shifted so his front would be warmed by the flames. “Too much for me,” he said softly.

I was glad he wasn't wide-eyed and stammering, or squealing and jumping up and down like Erica had done until Kisten collared her and dragged her away.

“David!” Kisten called when my thoughts pulled my eyes to him. “Can I talk to you about my boat? How much do you think it would cost to insure her through you?”

A sound of pain slipped from David. “The price of being in insurance,” he said softly.

My eyebrows rose. “I think he just wants to get someone between him and Erica. The girl does
not
shut up.”

David pushed himself into motion. “You won't leave me alone too long will you?”

I grinned. “Is that one of my responsibilities as a member of your pack?” I said, and Takata's eyes widened.

“As a matter of fact, it is.” Raising his hand to Kisten, he ambled to him, stopping to nudge a log back into the flames with the toe of his boot as he went. Howard was laughing at him from across the fire, his green eyes glinting.

I looked to find Takata's thick eyebrows high. “Member of his pack?” he questioned.

Nodding, I sat beside Takata on top of the picnic table. “For insurance purposes.” Setting my spiced cider down, I put my elbows on my knees and sighed. I loved the solstice, and not just for the food and parties. Cincinnati dropped all of its lights from midnight until sunrise, and it was the only time I ever saw the night sky as it was supposed to be. Anyone thieving during the blackout was dealt with hard, curtailing any problems.

“How are you doing?” Takata said, surprising me. I had almost forgotten he was there. “I heard you were hospitalized.”

I smiled sheepishly, knowing I was starting to look tired after screaming for two-plus hours at Takata's concert. “I'm okay. They weren't ready to release me, but Kisten was just down the hall, and after they caught us, ah, experimenting with the controls for the bed, they decided we both were well enough to be on the streets.”
Crabby old night nurse. By the amount of fuss she made, one would have thought we were committing some kind of kinky—well, crabby old night nurse, anyway.

Takata eyed me as I flushed and pulled my knit hat down lower over my ears. “There's a limo out front,” I said to change the subject. “Want me to tell them to go away?”

His gaze went up into the black branches. “They can wait. They have food in there.”

Nodding, I relaxed. “You want some warm wine?”

He started, his wide eyes looking shocked. “No. No thanks.”

“More spiced cider, then?” I offered. “Here. I haven't had any of mine.”

“Just put a swallow in there,” he said, extending his empty cup, and I poured half of my drink into his. I felt kinda special, sitting next to Takata with half my drink in his mug, but I stiffened as a faint twang reverted through me. I froze, not knowing what it was, and Takata's eyes met mine.

“You felt it too?” he said, and I nodded, feeling uneasy and a little worried.

“What was it?”

Takata's wide mouth turned into a huge smile as he laughed at me. “The circle at Fountain Square. Happy Solstice.” He raised his cup, and I automatically touched mine to it.

“Happy Solstice,” I echoed, thinking it odd that I had felt it. I never had before. But then, maybe having closed it myself once made me sensitive to it.

Feeling as if all was right with the world, I sipped my cider, finding David's eyes pleading with me over the rim of my mug. Erica's mouth was going nonstop, and Kisten was gripping his shoulder, trying to have a conversation around her. “Excuse me,” I said as I slid from the table. “David needs rescuing.”

Takata chuckled, and I made my unhurried way past the fire. Though he never stopped talking to David, Kisten's eyes were on me, and I felt a warm spot start in my middle.

“Erica,” I said, coming even with them. “Takata wants to play a song for you.”

Takata jerked upright, giving me a panicked look when the young woman squealed. Both Kisten and David slumped in relief as she darted around the fire to him. “Thank God,” Kisten whispered, and I sat down in her spot. “That girl never shuts up.”

Snorting, I eased closer, pushing into his thigh, hinting. He curved an arm around me, as I wanted, pulling me close. Kisten exhaled softly, and a shiver rippled over me. I knew he felt it when my scar started tingling. “Stop it,” I whispered, embarrassed, and his grip tightened.

“I can't help it,” he said on an intake of breath. “When is everyone going to be leaving?”

“Sunup,” I said, setting my drink down. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“It's not my heart that misses you,” he breathed, and a second shiver passed through me.

“So,” Kisten said loudly when David started to look uncomfortable. “Rachel tells me you asked her to be your absent partner so you could get two salaries and she could get a good rate on her insurance.”

“Ah, yes…” David stammered, looking down so his hat hid his eyes. “About that…”

I jumped as Kisten's cold hand worked its way under my coat and touched the skin at my waist. “I like that,” he murmured, not talking about how his fingers were tracing small circles to warm my middle. “Inventive. My kind of man.”

David's head came up. “Would you excuse me,” he muttered, sending a quick hand to fiddle with his glasses. “I haven't said hello to Ceri and Keasley yet.”

I chuckled, and Kisten pulled me closer. “You do that, Mr. Peabody,” Kisten said.

The short Were jerked to a stop, gave him a warning frown, then continued, stopping to get a glass of his wine on the way.

My smile slowly faded. The scent of leather became obvious, mixing with the hard aroma of burning ash, and I snuggled closer into Kisten. “Hey,” I said softly, my gaze fixed on the fire. “David wants me to sign a paper. Make me part of his pack.”

His breath caught. “You're kidding,” he said, pushing me away so he could focus on me. His blue eyes were wide and his face surprised and wondering.

Looking at my cold fingers, I slipped them into his. “I'd like you to witness it.”

“Oh.” His gaze went to the fire and he shifted his arm to lean a smidgen away.

I grinned in understanding and laughed. “No, you idiot,” I said, pushing on his arm. “It's a pack membership, not an interspecies bond. I'm not marrying the guy, for the Turn's sake. It's only a legal agreement so I can get my insurance through him and his company won't fire him. He'd ask a Were woman, but he doesn't want a pack, and that's what he'd get if he asked one.”

Kisten exhaled long and slow, and I could feel the softness return to his grip. “Good,” he said, pulling me closer. “ 'Cause you're my alpha bitch, babe, and no one else's.”

I gave him a telling look, which was hard to do seeing as I was almost in his lap. “Babe?” I said dryly. “You know what I did to the last guy who called me that?”

Kisten jerked me closer. “Maybe later, love,” he whispered to start a delicious tingle in me. “We don't want to shock your friends,” he added, and I followed his gaze to where Howard and Keasley were laughing while Ceri tried to eat her s'more without getting messy.

“Will you witness the paper for me?” I asked.

“Sure.” His grip around me tightened. “I think making ties is a good thing.” His arm slipped from me, and I followed his gaze to see Ivy glaring at us. “Ivy might not, though.”

Suddenly concerned, I pulled away. Ivy got to her feet, and with steps quick and long, she strode up the porch steps and into the church. The back door shut hard enough to make the wreath fall off.

Not noticing, Erica sprang into a flurry of motion to move a bench closer to the fire. The conversation grew excited, and Keasley and Ceri drifted over when Takata finally pulled out the guitar he brought with him but had been ignoring. He settled himself, long fingers moving slowly from the cold as he strummed. It was nice. Really nice. The only thing missing was Jenks's wiseass remarks and a sprinkling of pixy dust.

I sighed, and Kisten's lips brushed my ear. “You'll get him back,” he breathed.

Surprised he knew where my thoughts were, I said, “Are you sure?”

I felt him nod. “Come springtime and he can get out again, he'll be back. He thinks too much of you to not listen once his pride starts to heal. But I know all about big egos, Rachel. You're going to have to grovel.”

“I can do that,” I said in a small voice.

“He thinks it's his fault,” Kisten continued.

“I'll convince him otherwise.”

His breath was a puff behind my ear. “That's my girl.”

I smiled at the stirring of feelings he was instilling in me. My gaze went to the shadow of Ivy in the kitchen, then back to the impromptu music. One down. Two more to go. And they were likely going to be the hardest ones. It wasn't as if I could ask Ceri or Keasley. There was a spot on that form for a Social Security number. Ceri didn't have one, and I knew without asking Keasley wouldn't want to put his down. I had a suspicion by the lack of government checks that he was playing dead.

“Could you excuse me?” I murmured as Ivy's shadow behind the glass was eclipsed by a swirl of mist from the hot water she was running into the sink. Kisten's hold loosened. Takata's blue eyes met mine before I turned away, an unknown emotion in them.

I paused to put the cedar wreath back on its hook before I went in. The warmth of the church hit me, and I took my hat off and tossed it to the black hearth. I entered the kitchen to find Ivy leaning against the counter, her head down and her hands gripping her elbows.

“Hi,” I said, hesitating in the threshold.

“Let me see the contract,” she said, extending her hand and her head coming up.

My lips parted. “How did…” I stammered.

A faint, sour smile crossed her and was gone. “Sound carries well over flame.”

Embarrassed, I pulled it out of my pocket, feeling it both cold from the night and warm from my body. She took it, her brow furrowed. Turning her back on me, she unfolded it. I fidgeted. “Um, I need three witnesses,” I said. “I'd like you to be one of them.”

“Why?”

She didn't turn around and her shoulders were tense. “David doesn't have a pack,” I said. “It's harder to fire him if he does. He gets to keep his job working solo, and I can get my insurance through him. It's only two hundred a month, Ivy. He's not looking for anything more than that or he would have asked a Were woman.”

“I know. My question is why do you want
my
signature?” Paper in hand, she turned, the empty look on her face making me uncomfortable. “Why is it important to you that
I
sign it?”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. My thoughts touched on what Newt had said. Home hadn't been a strong enough pull, but Ivy was. “Because you're my partner,” I said, warming. “Because what I do affects you.”

Ivy silently plucked a pen from her pencil cup and clicked it open. I suddenly felt awkward, realizing that David's little paper granted him something she wanted: a recognizable connection with me.

“I did a background check on him when you were in the hospital,” she said. “He's not hooking up with you to help him out with a preexisting problem.”

My eyebrows rose. I hadn't thought about that. “He said this was a no-strings-attached affair.” I hesitated. “Ivy, I live with you,” I said, trying to reassure her that our friendship didn't need a paper or signature to be real, and both our names were above the door. Both of them.

She was silent, her face empty of emotion, her brown eyes still. “You trust him?”

I nodded. I had to go with my gut feeling here.

The barest smile appeared on her. “Me too.” Pushing a plate of cookies aside, she wrote her name on the first line in a careful but almost illegible signature.

“Thanks,” I said, and she handed it back. My gaze went past her as the back door opened. Ivy looked up, and I recognized a softening in her gaze when Kisten's familiar footsteps thumped on the rug beside the door, knocking off the snow. He came into the kitchen, David on his heels.

“Are we signing the paper or not?” Kisten said, the tension in his voice telling me he was ready to argue with Ivy if she was balking.

Ivy clicked her pen open and shut so fast that it hummed. “I already did. Your turn.”

He squared his shoulders, grinning as he took the pen when she extended it, adding his masculine signature under hers. His Social Security number was next, and he handed the pen to David.

David edged between them, looking small beside their tall grace. I could see his relief as he wrote his full name. My pulse increased and I took the pen, pulling the paper closer.

“So,” Kisten said when I signed it. “Who are you going to ask to be the third witness?”

“Jenks,” Ivy and I said together, and I looked up. Our eyes met and I clicked the pen closed.

“Will you ask him for me?” I said to David.

The Were picked up the paper, carefully folding it and tucking it away in an inner coat pocket. “You don't want to ask someone else? He might not.”

I glanced at Ivy and straightened, tucking a curl of hair behind my ear. “He's a member of this firm,” I said. “If he wants to spend the winter sulking in a Were's basement, that's fine with me, but he had better get his little pixy butt back here when the weather breaks or I'm going to be royally pissed.” I took a deep breath, adding, “And maybe this will convince him he's a valued member of the team and that I'm sorry.”