I Kissed a Dog (24 page)

Chapter
29
18

I tried to hide my relief when Alcuin presented the fourth, and what we hoped was
the final coin, to Zane over breakfast. My vampire confidant didn’t stay long, complaining
the sun was getting on his nerves and giving him a blistering headache. He promised
to return when we were ready for our “ride” to the board meeting.

Zane had readily accepted Alcuin’s explanation for obtaining the coin. My late night
worry session had been unnecessary. As he’d promised last night, before leaving, Alcuin
kept the more sensitive portions of our conversation to himself. Something I knew
he disliked in light of his longtime alliance with Zane.

I’d also filled Alcuin in on my parental problems
and
my plans and reasons for traveling to Portland minus Zane. In lieu of time constraints,
we determined he’d handle Bob on his own. In truth, I didn’t want see my stepdad bedazzled
regardless of the reason.

Uneasy, Alcuin swore secrecy on those revelations as well. He had even gone so far
to admit that he’d never once chosen a human’s wishes over his own, and made it clear
he wasn’t planning to make it habit.

Whatever his reasons, I was grateful to have him for an ally, even temporarily. He
would make sure I arrived at my destination unscathed.

Thank goodness I’d adapted to teleporting since I’d be traveling Air Alcuin twice
in one day. Actually, three times — a round trip to and from Seattle, and a one way
ride to Portland.

In addition, Luke had remembered his role in my escape-to-Portland scheme. He’d called,
as planned, at 7:15 AM to request an evening meeting. I’d explained to Zane that Luke
wanted to have a long overdue sit-down with me and Rhonda. Something my werewolf mate
was none too keen about. He considered her an arch enemy to be avoided at all costs.

In the end, I’d won the argument by reminding him that Michael or Mack would be close
by and that Luke wouldn’t let Rhonda harm me.

Overall, he’d been pretty receptive considering he was scheduled to meet with Rita
later about the coins, a meeting that promised to be long and arduous, according to
Rita’s predictions. She’d invited another linguistic scholar to collaborate with
them, and believed they might decipher at least a portion of the coins’ script this
evening.

I promised to let Luke follow me home, and if circumstances warranted, I could even
unleash (forgive the pun) Stryder from the barn for additional protection. Zane was
planning to release him when he returned home.

Zane and the two M’s had determined the mutant should have one final day of captivity
to seriously consider the implications of switching sides. I was supposed to read
his thoughts later and confirm his decision to leave the mutant cause for good.

Tom, on the other hand, wasn’t being quite as receptive. The dreadlocked mutant had
so far refused to comply. When I’d taken a peek into his mind, I’d been startled to
discover he was crushing big time on the redheaded wolf-woman. He’d seen her from
a distance, just once, but it had been enough to ignite his interest. Tom wasn’t real
intelligent. From what I could tell, he was downright dumb.

Meanwhile, Zane had gone out to feed Tom and Stryder, leaving me to shower and figure
out what an administrative assistant should wear to her first ever board meeting.

I’d also asked Zane what would keep the board members from identifying me. After all,
they’d sent Zane here to investigate the murders and find the girl who could chit
chat with animals. According to him, no one had a clue what I looked like. Logan alone
knew my identity, and Zane promised he was to be trusted.

I hoped he was right.

After trying on at least five potential outfits, I decided on a traditional beige
suit, ideal for summer weather. I’d purchased it two years ago for my interview at
the animal park. Luke had admired its sleekness, but made sure to remind me that wearing
it to work would be overstating my position.

“Wow!” Zane said approvingly, causing me to gasp. He’d managed to catch me off guard.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that.” I pivoted to look over my shoulder in the mirror
before facing it again to tuck in my silk blouse.

“No need to check, you look fantastic from every angle. Sorry for the scare.” He came
closer and looked over my shoulder into the mirror, where our eyes met. I glanced
down, my cheeks flushing.

If Zane discovered my indiscretion and lies, I doubted he’d be so appreciative. Pushing
the thoughts aside, I focused on my husband. “Are you sure this is appropriate?”

He shook his head, chuckling softly. “Chloe, Chloe. You have no idea just how enticing
you are, do you?” He didn’t wait for my response. “That suit shows just enough leg
to be appealing, but not overly flashy. Ivory is the perfect shade for your skin tone,
and by wearing a wine-colored blouse, you’ve added the perfect touch. Not to mention,
I’ve never seen you with your hair like that.”

Taken aback by his detailed appraisal, I eyed my hair. A majority of the time I left
my long ringlets to hang loose, or, occasionally, in hot weather, I’d pull my hair
up high in what my mom referred to as my “pebbles ponytail,” named after little Pebbles
from
the
Flintstones
.

This morning, I’d used a hair-straightener to force my curls into submission. And,
with the miraculous help from some over-priced hair products, I’d managed to manipulate
my hair into a smooth twist on top of my head. Zane’s continued admiration confirmed
I’d made a good choice.

Alcuin’s —
who is your favorite flavor question —
continued to harass me.

Who is my favorite flavor? — Vampire or werewolf — bark verses bite.

Standing here in the daylight, without Valamir’s vamp magic messing with my mind,
I felt certain that the magnificent man behind me was exactly who I needed and wanted
in my life. The choice seemed so obvious.

However, I couldn’t stop replaying last night’s erotic interlude with the vampire
warrior. His fangs piercing my neck had caused me to climax — an embarrassing incident
I’d take to my grave.

A grave that I just might find myself buried in if I wasn’t careful.

Both my so-called
flavors
had vicious sides to their charismatic personas. Should they turn their anger toward
me ...

“Are you all right?” Zane leaned down and nipped my neck, sending a jolt of excitement
everywhere at once. When had I developed such a sensitive neck?

“I’m just nervous.” At least that wasn’t a lie.

Nervous. Anxious. Terrified of losing you
. The last thought startled me.

After everything we’d experienced together, I couldn’t imagine my life without Zane.
I didn’t want to need anybody, least of all someone whose approval mattered enough
for me to fear losing it.

“There’s no need to be nervous. You’ll do great. Remember, turn on the mini-recorder.”
He handed me the tiny recording device. “It will pick up everything. That way, you
can concentrate on the animals. Make notes about your discoveries and let the recorder
handle the meeting. We’ll find someone to transcribe later.”

“Where do you come up with all this?” I wondered out loud.

Before meeting the werewolves, I’d been pretty much a day-to-day, go-with-the-flow
kind of gal. All this planning and plotting was new to me, although I was adapting
fast enough to have already devised a plan of my own. I hoped I could find the Smart
boy.

I had three plausible locations to check out. The first, not far from my parent’s
house, was a well-known institution for mentally disturbed boys and girls, ages five
to eighteen. It was the largest of the three, and housed the most residents, making
it, in my opinion, the least likely. The other two were closer to downtown Portland.
One in the West Hill’s area served just eight clients at a time. The cost for this
program was astronomical. As far as I knew, the Smart’s salaries were modest, but
what did I know? They could have saved their money wisely, or relied on a rich relative.

Thirdly, and what I considered my best option for finding Joshua Smart, was a newer,
state run, research facility that specialized in helping children recover from traumatic
experiences. They’d been featured on a special news report awhile back and had a reputation
of taking on high profile cases. Joshua fit that category.

One problem with this location was the intense security. Some of their patients had
committed pretty heinous crimes. Alcuin had again offered to remedy the situation.
I’d make it my first stop, giving him the opportunity to enter and observe.

Worried about the old vampire myths that required blood suckers to obtain permission
before entering, I’d made sure to question Alcuin. After all, Valamir had been blocked
from entering The Crab Cove without my invitation, but had slipped into my room unhindered.

According to Alcuin, because Valamir had fed on my blood, he’d been granted certain
rights when it came to me. In short, wherever I was he could enter — with one exception
— a strong ward. The Crab Cove had been magically warded against uninvited, supernatural
visitors, making entry for him impossible. Under normal circumstances, vampires could
enter public buildings even if people dwelled there. The locations requiring a personal
invite were private residences.

I realized then that Zane was staring at me with one eyebrow arched.

“I did that drifting off thing, didn’t I?” I shrugged.

“I get it. You’re stressed. Did you still want me to answer your question?”

I couldn’t even remember what I’d asked him. Not good. If I wasn’t careful, he’d figure
out that I had more than information overload going on in my head. My husband was
no dummy, and he’d gotten to know me faster than anyone else. I’d never felt so many
emotions in relation to any one person.

“What are you thinking?” He gave me a longing look. “Tell me it’s good.”

I was amazed how in an instance we’d gone from a simple conversation to one charged
with heated energy. “It’s very good.”

Watching him watch me in the mirror suddenly seemed very sensuous. I looked so prim
and proper in my current attire. He looked all man. No. That wasn’t quite true. His
eyes were changing to the golden hue I loved so much. The color signaled that his
libido had kicked into overdrive.

“How much time do we have?” I asked.

He leaned down and kissed my neck. “Not enough for what I want to do to you.”

I shivered at the th
ought, realizing right then, without doubt, Zane was the flavor I liked best. He didn’t
need any mind-magic to melt me like butter. He was warm, funny, sumptuous, powerful,
and very much alive ¯ nothing undead about Zane.

“That’s disappointing,” I pouted. “By the way, I was thinking that you are one of
a kind, my kind of guy.” It wasn’t until after I’d spoken that I realized just how
corny I sounded.

Much to my relief, Zane seemed to find my comments endearing and rewarded me with
a big grin. “I love it when you call me
your
guy.”

“Go on. Get ready. I don’t want to mess up my hair anyway.” I regretfully shooed him
away.

“Good point, Mrs. Marshall. Good point.”

I was tempted to follow him into the shower, but refrained. We’d have time to enjoy
each other later — that is if he still wanted me after uncovering all my secrets.

Chapter
30
19

The one benefit to the packed space was my ultra-close proximity to Zane.

With my back pressed firmly against his front, and his hands deviously teasing my
fanny, I was in elevator heaven.

A woman leered at us through wired spectacles. She was focused on where his unseen
hands were busily hiding. I decided to ignore her sardonic smile. She was probably
just jealous. What woman wouldn’t be?

A man like Zane did more than attract attention. He demanded it. His artful caresses
were demanding a response that I was unable to give. Had I responded with the level
of passion I was forcing myself to ignore, Miss Nosy would have gotten an eyeful.

Not a moment too soon, the doors slid open revealing a long hallway on the tenth floor.
The hotel housed its conference rooms on the upper levels. Our meeting was in the
Mystic Mountain Suite
. How appropriate. My life was about as mystical as one could be.

We exited into the hall leaving our snooty spectator behind. In less than ten steps,
we were facing the only thing between me and a group of potentially adversarial board
members. Muffled male voices drifted from behind the closed door, marked with a gold
plaque. My stomach clenched, sending a swirl of butterflies through my midsection.

“Use our silent communi …” Zane started.

Well aware of what he was advising, I cut him off. “I know.
And
the recorder.” I pushed the elevated button on my new spy device. The minuscule recorder
was secure, tucked in my purse’s outside pocket. “I need to count and take deep breaths.”
I prepared to employ my usual calm-down-routine.

Zane instructed with patience, “You need to look at me.”

I glanced up. He gave me a look filled with unspoken confidence and admiration. “You’ll
do great. Once Logan arrives, we’ll go in. He’ll introduce you. It’ll look better
if you seem closer to him.”

I nodded.

Zane kissed my cheek. “You’ve got this, Princess.”

Hoping his confidence wasn’t misplaced; I smoothed my skirt for the hundredth time.

“Looking lovely, Mrs. Marshall,” Logan affirmed, as he appeared by my side. I jumped,
still not used to people appearing from nowhere, and calling me Mrs. Marshall.

Logan summarized what I already knew too well. “Remember, three of the elders will
have their dogs. One German Shepherd, a Lab, and a feisty young Doberman.”

Zane had located the canine companions’ photos for me to “study.” I’d never liked
Dobermans. I was almost certain the dog that had sent me flying into the swimming
pool, close to a decade ago, had been part dobby. I wasn’t ready to forgive the breed
for its indiscretion.

“Ready?” Zane asked.

I managed a smile.

Logan entered the room like a Greek god striding into his celestial palace. I envied
his distinguished composure.

The men in the room hurried to take their seats. Their reverence for the Pack Leader
was evident. One man, his skin tanned and wrinkled like a well-worn hide, seemed unimpressed
by Logan Sanders. I made a note to keep an eye on him.

“Here Boss!” the same man commanded while taking his seat at the far table’s far end.

I jerked back, when the largest Doberman I’d ever seen, trotted to his master’s side.
The man flipped his grey-streaked ponytail over his shoulder and turned his piercing
gaze on me. I felt like I was standing on a stage under the glare of a spotlight.

The remaining men, and one lone woman, had taken their seats during the few short
minutes I’d been occupied by the ancient Indian and his ferocious hound.

Logan had referred to the beast as feisty. Feisty described Terrier pups, not this
sleek, black, terror of a dog. I realized then that everyone was watching me expectantly.
Talk about making a scene. Wanting to bolt from the room, I did the opposite and stepped
toward an open chair next to Logan.

When people talk about things happening in threes, they’re right. One: mean man and
vicious dog staring me down. Two: table of strangers watching me with eerily chilly
expressions. Three: I trip over nothing, and in what feels like slow motion, tumble
toward what I somehow notice is plush, mauve carpeting. I hope it’s as soft and springy
as it looks. I hear several gasps before two super-sized hands drag me to my feet.

“Uh, thank you.” I try to smile like nothing happened and find myself looking up at
the leathery face from the end of the table. “You …?”

“There now,” he soothed like the parent of a frightened toddler. “Are you all right
all right?”

I allowed him to settle me into an expensive, high-backed chair. I was so far from
feeling all right responding would have been blasphemous.

He patted my shoulder and returned to his end-of-the-table seat where his dog posed
like a regal warrior.

Logan began, his voice firm and steady. “I guess this would be a good time to introduce
my newest administrative assistant, Cassandra Carpenter.”

Still dazed, it took me another endless minute to realize
I
was Cassandra Carpenter. We’d altered my name just enough to keep anyone from putting
together my true identity. “Hi?” I gave an awkward parade wave.

“Welcome,” several voices chorused.

“Glad you could join us,” the other woman said. Some nodded. A few smirked — so much
for instant acceptance.

Unable to leave them with such a horrible first impression, I decided to make my own
mini-speech. Something I’d later regret like everything else about the meeting.

“That’s me, Cassandra Carpenter. Please forgive my grand entrance.”

That earned a few strained chuckles.

“I’ll be taking notes and just want to thank you all for welcoming me into your group.”
I took my seat again in what I hoped was a demure fashion.

Looking to Zane for approval, I noted instead he appeared both puzzled and perplexed.
Chloe, Princess, do you think you could draw any more attention to yourself? Check
your recorder and get your notepad.
He quickly looked away, but not before my latest savior noticed our discreet interaction.

What was with this guy? Friend or foe?

I organized myself while the board members took ten minutes to “check in”. According
to Logan, he was practicing a new ice breaker to loosen things up.

For my benefit, everyone introduced themselves and gave me the opportunity to jot
down their names. I drew a makeshift table and put the names in their proper order
around the oblong shape, trusting this extra attention to detail would benefit me
in the long run.

All dogs were in attendance as expected. The chocolate lab lounged by his owner’s
feet, head resting on his front paws. The German Shepherd panted; his doggy mouth
turned up in a canine grin. Like the Doberman, he sat stiffly next to his owner’s
chair. The lab and the shepherd were very interested in Logan and Zane’s unseen lupine
qualities. They stared at the two werewolves, who appeared unaware of their latest
admirers. Only the Doberman remained indifferent to Zane and Logan.

The meeting started like any other board meeting. The last meeting’s minutes were
reviewed. Old business was addressed, and then before I realized it, we were onto
new business. I hadn’t even bothered to listen in on the pets.
Nice work,
I chastised myself.

Keeping my pen poised over a half-filled notebook page, I searched the lab’s mind.
I trusted the mini-recorder would take care of anything I missed while nosing around
in the canine minds.

The door to the dog’s thoughts swung wide open and I slipped in. His owner, Roger
Ryker, a Native American male, in his fifties, and sporting cropped, graying hair,
materialized in a majority of the dog’s visions. It was easy to see this was a good
match. As far as I could tell, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Normal dog stuff
was all the Labrador had on his mind.

Disappointed, but happy for the two of them, I moved on to the beautifully-marked
German shepherd, saving the dreaded dobby for last.

The dog stiffened as I entered his thoughts. I probed as gently as I could, hoping
he’d relax and reveal something of interest. I didn’t have to wait long.

I was yanked into a recognizable but unexpected landscape. The dog and his owner were
walking through the strange medical facility that I’d seen in the cloaked creature’s
mind. They stopped at the foot of one of many beds, providing a close up view of a
male patient. He wasn’t resting on his bed.

He was strapped to it.

His body writhed from side to side like an animal caught in a trap, experiencing unspeakable
pain. Perspiration glistened on his face, which was turning an odd shade of gray.

The shepherd stared up at his master, who during introductions had identified himself
as Martin, one of the Makah Tribe elders. Martin leaned over the thrashing patient
along with several men dressed in scrubs, and none other than the infamous redheaded
woman.

He met her gaze from across the bed. She gave a slight nod.

“He’s not progressing. We all know what that means. But wait; make sure. We’ve been
wrong before,” Martin instructed.

“Then?” another man asked, glancing at his clipboard.

“Kill him,” Martin said with a shrug. “We don’t need any more renegade baldies running
around. We’ve caused enough problems cleaning up our mistakes.” He glanced sideways
at the woman.

She glared at Martin. “I’m certain you’re not blaming me for
your
screw ups.” Her eyes flashed crimson. Martin flinched like he’d been stung.

“Of course not,
Mistress
.” He inclined his head.

“Blaming me wouldn’t be wise.” She moved around the table and behind Martin. Leaning
over his shoulder, she whispered something that made the corner of his mouth rise.

Without further comment, she strode with hips swaying, down the corridor, making it
her own personal runway, high heels clicking on the concrete.

The men gazed after her retreating figure, and then sighed in unanimous relief when
she exited through the double doors. Martin was wearing a stupid little grin that
gave him a slightly insane appearance. He’d been satiated by her whispered promise.

I started to pull away from the vision, when the dog whimpered, recapturing my attention.
Martin and the others stared down at their patient, who was transforming into something
not human.

He shriveled and shrunk, his skin becoming a railroad track of wrinkled lines and
creases. His thick, blonde, mane-of-hair was falling out in clumps, making his head
look like a shiny orb. I could almost see the veins pulsating beneath the thin cap
of skin covering his skull. He looked like an alien featured on the Sci-fi Channel.

What had started out as a normal-looking twenty-something male, had become what I
now referred to as one of the ugly creatures, minus its cloak.

Martin pulled a syringe from his pocket.

“Look out!” I warned, realizing my error too late.

Every board member was gaping — their eyes glued on me.

So much for my simple administrative duties.

By the strained expression on Zane’s face, it was evident I’d blown any opportunity
to appear normal. As if I ever pulled off normal.

I hoped the information I’d gleaned from Martin’s German Shepherd would redeem me.
I dared to take a quick unassuming peek in his direction. He was frowning.

The single person smiling was … I glanced down at my notebook —James McQuillen — the
man who’d kept me from the face plant, and who owned Boss the Doberman, the dog I
hadn’t had time to explore yet.