Species Interaction (9 page)

Argh! Men
. A step away from death and all they can think of is how they can get away with feeling up a girl. "Pervert."

His eyebrow shot up. "That's not what the other women say about me."

Blinking, I fell into the trap. "What do they say?"

His gaze bore into mine as a lecherous grin appeared. "You want to find out firsthand?"

Eek!

* * * *

Later, Ducian dropped me off back at the club.

"You sure you don't want me to take you home? You can find out what the other women say in my bed." He rubbed my knee and grinned like a Cheshire cat.

I smacked his hand, stuck my nose in the air, and turned on my best haughty tone. "I already know. Those women take one look at those fangs, and say 'oh, hell, no. I'm not getting anywhere near something that big.'"

The hyena threw back his head and laughed. "You're right about one thing. They do say 'big'."

Rolling my eyes, I climbed out of the car and headed into the club.

I had no clue if Meat would have returned by now, be dancing, or too busy doing the horizontal mambo with Misha in some sleazy motel. So I took a chance on his at least returning to the club. Navigating around the women in lust, I headed for a quieter corner to catch a peek at the stage. Finding one, I stood on tiptoe and searched.

"You didn't think I would know?"

Startled, I squealed and automatically slapped my hand on my chest. My poor heart couldn't take many more of these surprises in one night. Spinning around, I stared up into Meat's face. His brows furrowed with agitation. Absently, I recalled his question.

"Know what?"

Snaring one of my hands, he gave a yank, dragging me in his wake. We scurried up the back steps and didn't pause until meeting the door of his dressing room. He shoved it open, gave me a hard pull, and slammed the door behind us. I stared up into his face, trying to decipher the source of his sour mood.

"Why are you covered in his scent?"

I took a second to consider his question. I could go for honesty or I could play dumb. What is it men say? Don't admit anything to the wife until you find out what it is she thinks you've done. No sense in adding to the charges.

"Whose?"

"That damn vampire, that's who."

His nose flared. I stepped back toward the wardrobe, needing a smidgen of space. "Oh, well, you see…" Fidgeting, I frantically tossed around ideas for explanations.

He didn't wait for more, just loaded another round and fired. "What were you doing in Misha's apartment?"

Oh, great.
He's royally ticked. Think. I could go with honesty. That's the best policy right? Or I could play dumb. Or, there had to be something behind Curtain number three to choose as well. Decisions, decisions.

"Who said I was there?"
Innocence behind Curtain number three. Good choice.

His chest rumbled as he drew in a deep breath and exhaled heavily. "I can pick up your scent anywhere. You were there. You and Ducian." He made it a pointed statement. "Now, why?"

Biting my lip, I found my shoes enthralling. "I… I'm… helping to locate your missing item." The words tumbled out.
Honesty. Curtain number one.

"You
what
?"

Oops. Maybe I should have gone for what was behind Curtain number two.

"I thought I told you…"

That comment had my head jerking up, meeting his eyes. "Don't go there," I snarled back.

My defensive outburst seemed to catch him off guard as he slammed his mouth shut before trying again. His stance didn't ease, however. "This search is
Familia
business. Not to mention, it can get downright dangerous." He puffed out a breath. "Look, this isn't a lost library book. The Talisman Stone is powerful, rumored to have great magical potential. Whoever stole it must have known that. We're not talking about a petty thief, more along the lines of a deadly, determined criminal with magical abilities to use for nefarious causes."

"So?" I tossed back.

His arms crossed once more. "So humans and shifters alike have died over this object. I don't want you anywhere near it or the danger."

My mouth gaped open for a second. Chivalry? That was going to work… not. "Hello. Gopher to the big bad deadly Enforcers here." He didn't respond, so I rushed forward. "Did you forget I blow up things? Motorcycles come to mind."

His face pinched. "Not a good time to remind me of that."

He had a point, but I certainly wasn't going to admit it. Instead, I shrugged and waved my hand as if wiping the slate clean with one flick of the wrist. "I really can help, you know." I tried to reason with his illogical brain.

He stepped close and lowered his voice to a gravely growl. "I said no."

Crossing my arms across my chest, I took a lesson from my boys in debate. "I'm not a child."

"Prove it," he flung back. "Stay out of it. Misha and I can handle this."

"But I was thinking about…"

He leaned in until we stood nose to nose. A low growl rose from his chest.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose in reaction. Intimidating he could do, and well.

"You will do as you're told."

Stubbornly, I stuck my chin in the air. "I will do as I please. I'm an adult after all."

My words earned a deeper growl, baring of fangs, and a hard shake as his hands clasped firmly on my upper arms. "You will obey or else."

Obey? Obey? Oh, he didn't just say that, did he?
A hot cauldron of anger shot to the fore. I jerked out of his grasp and glared daggers. My mouth opened and closed a handful of times before I clammed up. Words spun through my mind, all great comebacks, wonderful ideas on where he could go, along with a simple "Kiss my grits." Some tiny sane part of my brain warned me to bite my tongue now or I would pay the price later.

"Moronic pig." Pushing past him, I stormed out the door, slamming it shut in my wake.

Chapter 9

I crawled into bed late that night, still grumbling about overbearing liger boyfriends and their penchant for obedience. After tossing and turning, I finally managed to close my eyes and sink into restless sleep only to wake up in a very strange place.

I found myself in a large room, artwork hung on every facing wall, while a full set of ancient armor occupied one tidy corner. A sturdy looking ax rested in the metal hand. Glass cases and windows reflected what little light existed in the large open room.

No. It couldn't be.

I scanned across the room once more.
Yep. Sure enough
. One more quick glance to my right confirmed my suspicions. The huge multicolored rug hung from the ceiling, blanketing the far wall. I had seen that rug numerous times in the past.

Sure enough, I had sleep poofed to the city museum. Dang it.

Frantically, I searched for security guards as an awful chill raced down my spine. It might be tricky trying to explain why I stood in my pajamas in the middle of the antiquities section of the museum at two am.

No voices carried, no medieval army appeared with clubs or spears, and no huge dinosaur skeleton pounded around the corner. After millions of years with a meal, he would probably consider me a tasty Shy blueberry muffin. I could see the obituary now: "Local woman snack for ancient beast."

On an up note, landing in the museum made for a pleasant change from my usual landings filled with naked and perverted people. The museum might have a handful of naked sculptures and painting subjects, but those were tasteful and widely acceptable. No one dropped their drawers and started fondling themselves. Thank goodness.

Looking ahead, a flash of colors caught my attention. Tentatively, I took two baby steps closer to the small item under glass. One side looked to be dull brown, resembling an ordinary river stone. The other half…
boy, howdy
. It sparkled like a perfectly clear night sky full of hundreds of stars. Blue, yellow, red, and orange shined pure and clean. The prism winked a myriad of colors even in the dimmed light.

This had to be it! Meat's precious stone.

I moved excitedly to bring myself closer, but something held me in check. Thoughts raced through my mind. Visions of movies past came into focus.

What if they had those little red laser beams all around? What if a large fly flew through the beam? Would that set it off? Does it double as a bug zapper and big time high technology alarm? Or did multiple beams have to be breached at once? What if a lost turtle found its way inside? Would he go to turtle lockup? Or would the beams turn him into crispy turtle soup on the spot? Come to think of it, what would it do to humans? The first zap you lose your eyebrows, nose and pubic hair? The second zap and you're convulsing on the floor, wetting all over yourself?

Maybe this alarm had potential. New. The Nose and Pubic Hair Zapper. No more waxing. No more plucking. Simply step up to the laser and all your hair will simply singe to nothing. Ear hair sufferers listen up… Did the system come with an owner's manual to explain these things? After all, I couldn't be the only person on the face of the earth that ever thought about those possibilities.

I stared longingly at the item, tempting me to come closer. The colors promised rightness and wholeness and a glimpse of something more powerful.

Common sense reared its head. I lacked James Bond skills and refused to trifle with the potential of another jail encounter. My family would never forgive me and the same judge as before would sentence me to cleaning dead rats out of the sewer systems for eternity. The thought alone made me shudder.
Not enough therapy in the world existed for sewer rat patrol.

Patting around my waistline, it took me a moment to realize I remained in my fluffy pink jammies. A cell phone didn't go with the outfit. Grumbling, I glanced back at the gleaming stone before focusing on home and poofing out.

The second I realized I landed at home in one piece, I raced for the phone, quickly punching in Meat's cell number.

"What?" he snarled into the receiver.

Jumping, it took me a long moment to find words. "Hi, Meat."

"I'm busy, Shy. What is it?"

Mr Liger must have that stick in his rear again by his tone.
Just what I needed.
With a determined sigh, I started talking. "I found your sacred item. It's in the city museum right by…"

He broke in. "I already know that. What I don't know is how you discovered it."

I paused and blinked. "Well, I was sleeping and kinda woke up staring at it. I must have sleep poofed…"

A colorful curse followed. "Sleep poofed? What the hell? When did you start that?"

"Umm. A while back. It happens now and again."

He sighed loudly. "I don't need this right now." I could almost see him running a hand through his hair. "Forget about the stone. I mean it. As far as the sleep poofing, shit I don't know."

"I can take care of myself." A bit irritated, I fired back.

"I don't have your confidence on the matter." Misha's voice leached through the background noise as if she tried to converse with Meat at the same time. "I've got to go. I'll call you later." He clicked off.

My eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. Of course, Misha called and he was quick to go running. Jealousy hit me like a runaway train. "That does it. I'll show him." Heading out to the front porch, I grabbed Ribbit the frog statue, tucking him under one arm. "I swear I'll grab that dang rock and hit them both upside the head with it." With that said, I focused hard on the dang relic, and teleported out.

The stars must have been aligned just right as I landed back where I vacated a few minutes earlier. Determined, I strode confidently to that glass case.

Did I have a plan? Well, not completely. I had a goal, though. The rest I could make up as I went.

I stuck Ribbit close to the glass, tentatively searching for any pubic hair zapper laser lines, which would place a serious dent in my Indiana Jones evening. When no sizzling or little froggie fire occurred, I smiled tentatively. Reaching for the glass, I froze. Some sort of electric vibe emanated from the area. How could I remove the glass lid without touching the surface and setting off tactile alarms?
Think. Think
.
Stasia!

She worked at the Division when I first began. Like me, she possessed her own basket of abilities, including levitation. As much as she coached me, I never could quite grasp the whole concentration mechanism.

I worked my lip in worry. Months passed since I last tried to levitate something and the items I chose could withstand a sudden drop to the floor without damage. Sucking in a breath, I opted to give it a try. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? I would actually get the case off the stand then lose control, sending it crashing to the ground. Alarms would blare and security would race in. I could always teleport out. As long as I didn't actually touch anything, they couldn't prove I was responsible. I glanced down at my bunny slippers. No toe prints either. I would just lift the case off, grab the rock, and poof out. Simple.

With an intent stare, I deposited Ribbit beside me, wiggled my fingers, and waited eagerly for the glass to begin moving. I waited. And waited.
Well, great. Now what
? Placing my hands on my hips, I concentrated harder. Maybe I needed additional body involvement? Taking my index finger, I wiggled my nose. Still nothing. Growling in frustration, I frowned at the devilish security system.
What else to try?

Magic word? "Open Sesame!" I whispered loudly while wiggling my fingers at the stone.

The glass sat just as unmoving as before. I stomped my foot.
Oh, was that a twitch?
Stomping again, I waved and tossed out another phrase. "Abracadabra!" A small upward movement rewarded me. "Hocus Pocus!" I tried once more. Nothing. Darn it. I looked at Ribbit. He stared blankly back.

Taking a cue from the stomping, I hopped on one foot, put my hand on my belly and tried the strongest magic words I knew. "A la peanut butter sandwich!"

The glass rose slowly straight up. Hopping faster in excitement, I frantically searched for a soft landing pad. As the cover hovered a few inches above the base, it began to spin at an alarming rate, as it zipped toward the ceiling.
Yikes!
I stopped bouncing, only to find it falling back to earth at the same rate of speed.
Oh, good grief.
Hopping again, a bit slower, I scratched my belly absently. Who knew silly museum security systems responded so oddly to such physical activity? Too bad hopping wasn't my forte in kindergarten. And, I don't remember exactly, but I think I flunked hand and foot coordination.