You've Got Tail (24 page)

The next thing I knew, I was up against the wall, the heat of his body pressing against mine. His kiss was urgent, which I normally would have totally dug, but my jaw.

“Aww,” I said. “Pain, pain.”

“Sorry,” he grinned. “Goddamn, but I want you, woman.”

His caveman attitude, which would have ticked me off earlier, fueled my desire.

I jumped around his waist, and he pushed me against the wall again, knocking my shoulder. I groaned again. “Oh, seat belt bruise, damn it.”

Gently, he carried me across the room and set my ass on the diner counter. I threw my other arm back, and got another aching jolt for my trouble. “Son of a bitch.”

Babel narrowed his eyes. “More pain?”

“Sorry,” I said in a small voice, fighting the grimace. “Coyote attack.”

He stepped back and my heart dropped. Was he giving up? Was he right to?

Babel leaned forward and kissed my neck. “Does it hurt here?”

“No,” I said, feeling giddier than I was comfortable with.

He kissed my ear. “How about here?”

“Nope.” Oh, man, we were having a total
Raiders-of-the-Lost-Ark
moment and I was Indiana Jones! I squeezed his thighs between mine when his hand slid down between my legs. “How about here?”

Ho-boy. “No, doesn't hurt one bit.”

He scooped me off the counter, and carried me like a bride over the threshold.

“Where we going?” I asked, kissing the crease between his neck and earlobe. Oh, man, he smelled good enough to eat.

Babel made a rumbling noise that sent twitters down my stomach. “I'm going to take you upstairs and make love to all your parts that don't hurt, Sunshine Haddock. Is that good by you?”

Instead of saying “yes!” I asked the question, the one that would take us out of the moment. But I had to know. “What are we doing here?”

“I don't know about you, but I'm trying to get into your pants.”

Okay, so he went for literal. Not what I was asking. I put my hand on his shoulder. I had to know that this was real, because I didn't think I could do the “bang and bye” with Babel. Not now. If we did this, if we made love, my heart would be lost to him forever. There would be no turning back. At least not for me. And, Lord, I didn't even want to think about how I would explain it to Chav when we found her. A pang tweaked my gut.
Chav, where are you?

His fingers danced along my ribs. “Earth to Sunny.”

I couldn't be with him if it didn't mean more than just a fun way to kill time. “Is that it? Just in my pants and out of here?”

He grinned. “Well, there's several other things I'd like to do before the ‘out of here' part.” He brushed his hair back. The smile fading. “What answer are you looking for?”

What a romantic. “I don't know. I just…” What answer did I want? Did I want an undying declaration of devotion and love? Bad Sunny, I thought, reminding myself that Peculiar was only a temporary stop for Babel Trimmel on the road to bigger and better things. I couldn't let myself get sucked back into a relationship doomed for failure. Allowing myself to really care about Babel was a sucker's bet. The girl in me wanted to let it ride, while the woman in me knew better.

I sighed.

Babel's smoky-blue gaze, along with his smile, nearly broke my will. He dipped his chin and kissed my cheek. “What?”

Ugh. I'd heard that tone before. It said, what are you going to
say
or
do
now to ruin this beautiful, happy moment?

Immediately, I was annoyed. “Nothing.”

I'd played this game too often. I tell the guy what's wrong and he uses it as an excuse to pummel me verbally and make me feel like the bad guy. I wasn't biting.

He stroked my leg. “Come on, something's wrong. Tell me.”

Ah, lulling tactics. Where the male of the species lures the female to his trap by baiting her with soothing and innocuous words of rationality.

Uh-uh. “Really. It's nothing.”

“I can tell something's wrong.” The temperature of the conversation dropped ten degrees. Here was the “if you don't want to have a confrontation, I'll just force it out of you” bit.

“Babel, it's all good,” I fairly cooed, giving him the warmest smile I could manage. I curved my index fingers into two of his belt loops and tugged. “Come here.”

He smiled then, the situation diffused. Whoever said the best offense was a good defense lied. The best offense was a good deflection. “Hey, I want to go out to Billy Bob's in the morning. Can you drive me?” I asked, stroking his soft hair.

Babel stiffened.

Situation back on.

“Why?”

“To check on Jo Jo, of course.”

“I don't like the way Doc Smith looks at you.”

Ohh-kay. The territorial thing again. Did he really believe I wanted to go out there just to ogle the fantastically beautiful Shaman-doc? Crazy, right? “I can't help how he or anyone looks at me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I don't like the way you look at him.”

Remember how I said the day had started out so well? “Oh, give me a break.” Apparently, my mountain man had a fragile ego.

“Don't deny it.”

“Have I denied anything, yet?” For shit's sake, I'd fallen into his man-trap. I'd have tried for deflection again, but there was nowhere to go that wouldn't sound disingenuous. “What do you want from me, Babel?”

“I want you to tell me you don't want him.”

“Fine. I don't want him.” I threw my hands up in frustration. “Anything else?”

Babel started pacing. For a coyote, his movements were nearly catlike and graceful. I found myself staring at the way he controlled every part of his body with purpose. He was hotter than a blowtorch in a room full of firecrackers. And just as explosive. I licked my lips then bit my tongue to keep from screaming, “Take me now!”

The next words out of his mouth were better than any cold shower. “I don't believe you.”

Oh, no, he didn't. “You have a lot of nerve, buddy. You're going around with Sheila, then me, then back to Sheila, then back to me. I don't think I'm the dishonest one here. So. Screw. You.”

“You already have.”

“Get out,” I said, clenching my teeth tight.

“There's nothing between—”

“Get out!”

His expression changed from angry to stupefied and back to angry. He knew he'd taken it too far, but his man-genes kept him from apologizing. With a “whatever” flick of his hand, he left. Judah popped his head around the corner. How long had he been there? He cocked his head at me as if saying, “bitches be crazy.”

I grabbed a washcloth and threw it at him. He just kept staring at me with those sparkling green eyes as the damp rag soared right through his head and body.

“Just shut up,” I told him.

Truth was, I felt like a crazy bitch.

I
hid under the covers most of the night. Who's a fraidy cat? I am, that's who. Sick of myself, I threw the blankets off my head. Judah was still staring at me. “Fine. I'm getting out of bed.” I was naked, so I added, “Go somewhere else so I can shower and dress. I don't need an audience.”

The shower would have been much better with Babel in it, and my body ached a little more today. Post-crash stiffness and bruising along with a side of mauling. It dawned on me I was beginning to get used to bad shit happening to me. I didn't like it, at all, but it was becoming par for the course. I wondered what Peculiar would throw at me next. Thinking about the possibilities made my head feel like it would explode. Bereft of cell phone and vehicle, my avenues of communication were limited. I wanted to get in touch with Billy Bob and find out about Jo Jo.

Unfortunately, I wasn't ready to leave the Bat Cave, yet.

The pants I'd worn the previous day were crumpled in the corner. I took the wedding picture of Brady and Rose Ann out and unfolded it. There were some scratches from the frame's broken glass, and little blood from the cut I'd gotten on my palm.

I dusted it with my fingers and sighed. Rose Ann didn't leave her family of her own free accord. If the necklace was the same in the picture as it was in Judah's lockbox, it would at least be evidence. Another piece to prove that Judah had been on to something that could have put him in danger. I retrieved the box from behind the display counter and pulled out the necklace with the heart charm and compared it to the photo. They looked identical.

My peripheral vision narrowed, and darkness engulfed me.

Straw, dirt scented with urine and other foul body wastes inundated my senses. I reached out to the metal bars caging me. I heard a whimpering. The noise made me turn.

In the corner of the cage, a woman lay curled up. Her arms wrapped her body. The dress was tattered and dirty, but I recognized it and her. Rose Ann.

A clanging sound, like the metal cups in those prison movies, redirected my attention. A man with short blond hair, neatly trimmed, ran a rod over the bars.

“It's almost time. The moon will be up soon and the hunt will be on.”

Rose Ann rolled up on her knees and bared her teeth with a vicious growl.

Amazing. She still had fight left in her.

The man laughed, then two more men arrived. They were all wearing full hunting gear, including orange vests.

“She turning, yet?” one of the newcomers, a short, dowdy man with a bald patch and round glasses, asked.

He looked like an accountant, not a murderer for heaven's sake.

It dawned on me, all three looked like clean-cut businessmen, not the hillbillies of
Deliverance
I'd imagined.

Rose Ann growled again, and I stared as her body shifted from woman to mountain lion in a matter of seconds. She hissed at them.

I hadn't realized Rose Ann was a mountain lion. For some reason, I thought she'd be a coyote like her husband.

“Oh, shit,” the balding accountant muttered.

“Carl,” said the blond. “Let her out. We'll give her a head start for a challenge.”

The third guy, banker type, dark hair, tall, soft around the middle, looked like a giddy teenager as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation before he climbed up on top.

The other two guys stepped far back against the wall. Guns ready if the mountain lion chose to turn on them here.

“Oh, Rose,” I said, hating myself for being a human. I wanted the vision to end. I didn't want to see anymore.

Please end.

They opened the cage.

End.

She ran out the double bay doors.

End.

They waited approximately five seconds to chase after her. Ten seconds later, I heard three shots.

Oh God.

A minute later they dragged her carcass back into the building. They hadn't even given her a chance.

“Goddamn it, John,” Carl laughed.

“That was fast. Not hardly worth the sport,” the blond guy, apparently John, replied.

Carl lifted her lifeless head. “When can we get another? We'll take our time with the next one.”

“You think she'll look good mounted?” the nameless balding guy asked.

End!

I was back in the restaurant, slumped with my back against the counter. Dropping the picture and the necklace to the floor, I wept for the loss of Rose Ann. Judah rubbed his ghostly body around my legs and whimpered.

I couldn't breathe. I had to get outside and into the light. I ran for the front door and threw it open, stumbling onto the sidewalk.

One thought pulsed in my brain—monsters are real. And not just of the supernatural variety.

Deputy Connelly, a very lanky, skinny man, stopped me as I came out of the restaurant.

“Where you off to, Ms. Haddock?”

Damn, I'd forgotten about my protection detail. “Just going to go visit Ruth Thompson. I'll be back in a little bit.”

“No offense, ma'am, but no way in hell I'm letting you out of my sight.”

“Deputy. Truly, I admire your dedication. But I think I can safely make the five blocks to Doe Run Automotive safe and sound.”

“Uh-uh,” he said, rubbing his throat. “I can still taste the shoe leather from yesterday's ass chewing from the sheriff. So, wherever you go, I go. Okay?”

Like I had a choice in the matter. “I suppose.” I shook my head, taking in the determined law man. He reminded me of a cartoon I'd seen a couple of times. “Fine. Come along, Deputy Dawg.”

“Squirrel, ma'am.”

“Huh?”

“Not a dog.”

“Oh.” Deputy Connelly was a weresquirrel. I'd have never guessed. “Got it.”

“I'll give you a lift.”

“No thanks.” The breeze was perfect outside and it wasn't too hot. “I'd rather walk if it's just the same to you.”

“Suit yourself.” Connelly tipped his hat to me and went to his car and started the engine. He waited for me to head up the sidewalk then drove slowly down the road, keeping about two car lengths behind me.

“Sunny!” I heard someone call.

It was Sheila. Fan-friggin-tastic. I did not need a dose of bitch today.

I kept walking. She caught up to me. Wonderful. “What?” I didn't even try for polite.

She pulled her chin back, hackles rising. “I just wanted to tell you I was sorry—”

“For hurting me,” I finished for her. “Fine. It wasn't your fault. Yada, yada. I get it. Are we done?”

Sheila's eyes widened and her lower lip quivered slightly. “You mean, you know?”

Weirdly enough, she seemed almost frightened. “It's the brown eyes. You have a very distinctive color to them. It wasn't hard to figure out.” I was letting her off for the full-moon attack, so I wished she'd just go away.

“I didn't—”

Neville came out of Blonde Bear Cafe at that moment and smiled at both of us. “Sunny,” he said. “So glad to see you're all right. The sheriff told me what happened. I've heard from Doctor Smith that the boy is going to be just fine.”