Frost & Bothered (14 page)

“Argh.” I tossed him a slice from the plate already on the table. “Diablo, down if you want bacon.”

The black pit dropped to the floor. I tossed him a piece, and one to Leglin too.

“My Lord, what are these beasts? Oh my, they’re those killer dogs that...”

“No,” I snapped at her, only to wince when Grandma glared at me. “Sorry. No, they’re rescues.”

“Pitties,” Grandpa said. “Come here, boys. You like bacon?” Bone and Diablo took up station next to his chair. He began feeding them and Leglin softly whined. “What kind is that one? You come here too. He’s a handsome fella.”

“Elf hound, Grandpa. Guys, come on. Go to the living room.”

“I don’t mind,” my grandfather said, collecting more pieces of bacon. “Who’s a good boy?”

“
Me, me
.” Bone’s tail swished across the floor. “
I’m a good boy. Give me all the bacon
.”

“
I’m sitting. I’m a good boy too
.” Diablo wagged his tail. “
Don’t be a pig, Bone
.”

“Well, I do mind sharing the table with beasts,” Grandma declared.

Jeeze. I closed my eyes for a second.

“Now, Estelle, let’s not toss that word around at the breakfast table.” Mom deposited a platter of pancakes in the middle of the table. “Logan and Dane are shifters, and ‘beast’ is a derogatory term some use for shifters.”

My grandma eyed Dane as he transferred a few pancakes to his plate. He’d eaten with us several times, and felt totally at home. “You’re a shifter?”

“Yes, ma’am. Tiger.”

“Oh.” She looked at Logan. “And you?”

“I’m tiger, too.”

My turn for scrutiny and a question. “You’re sleeping with two shifters?”

“Oh, my God.” Instant face furnace, because her tone made it clear what she meant by “sleeping”.

“Estelle,” Grandpa snapped. “That’s enough. Cordi’s sex life...”

“Oh, God. Kill me now,” I begged the ceiling, which failed to respond by falling on me.

“...isn’t any of our business.”

Dane poured syrup over his pancakes. Logan’s gaze was glued to his empty plate, but I saw his lips twitching.

“No, I’m not sleeping with both of them. Holy crap, Grandma.”

“Not that there’d be anything wrong with it, if you were.” Mom patted Logan’s shoulder as she put the coffee pot on the table. In that instant, I knew exactly why some people spontaneously combusted.

“Mom.”

“What?” She went to the swinging door to call Tonya to the kitchen.

“Stop. Please. My embarrassment quota has been exceeded for the day.”

“Cats have spines.” Grandma was studying Dane. “Do you have spines in your...?”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Holy frickin’ crap, don’t finish that question.”

She didn’t, but Dane answered anyway. “No, ma’am. We don’t resemble normal felines that closely.”

“Oh. Well, good, because spines would be,” Grandma shuddered.

Tonya entered the kitchen. “What spines?”

“Penis spines. They,” Grandma waggled her forefinger between Dane and Logan. “Don’t have them.”

I groaned and planted my elbows on the table, in order to hide my face in both hands. “Could everyone please shut up?”

Instead, everyone ignored me. Tonya dropped into a chair. “I’d wondered about that.”

I peeked through my fingers to watch Mom pile pancakes on everyone’s plates.

“Well, we don’t in human shape,” Dane said between bites. “We do in tiger shape.”

“Does it make taking a leak as a tiger difficult?” Grandpa wanted to know, and I lifted my head.

“Okay, people. Enough. Seriously.” I didn’t yell, but spoke loudly enough no one could ignore me. “No more talk about spines, penises, or sex at the table. Ever. I’m beyond serious about this.”

My grandma sniffed after a few seconds of silence. “I was merely curious.”

I shushed her and we glared at each other. Make no mistake, I loved her to death, but holy cow she could be a total pain in the...

“Spines,” Tonya muttered before stuffing a chunk of pancake into her mouth. All three men snickered. Mom was smiling.

God, what a way to start a Sunday.

“T
hey’re staying here?” I tried to keep my voice down. “Why?”

“Betty’s parents and her sister’s family are staying there for Christmas. I’m not going to have family staying in a hotel during the holidays.” Mom glanced over her shoulder. I was helping her wash dishes. “They can have my room. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Aw, Mom. I’ll be waking you up all the time, coming in late. This case might take a while.”

“That’s all right.”

At the table, Grandma asked one of the guys, “Do your people have sex in both shapes?”

“Holy frickin’ hell, Mom, make her stop.”

“She’s curious, and neither of them seem to mind her questions.”

I scowled and put a little extra elbow grease into drying the plate I held. Once the guys were gone, my grandmother would bombard me with questions. Oh, but wait...I had a new house. “Mom.”

“What?”

“It’s too crowded here and Grandma doesn’t like my Pit Crew. I’m going to stay at my place.”

“The weather’s too bad for moving.”

“I’ll camp out there then. There’s a fireplace.”

Mom sighed. “All right, if you’re set on it.”

She had no idea how set I was on it. “Yes.”

M
y attempts to apologize were waved aside by Dane and Logan. Apparently, they’d found the entire situation hilarious, including my horrified interjections.

On the other hand, my request for a lift out to my new place became something much more. By Monday evening, a combination of them, Logan’s truck, Tonya’s help packing my stuff at Mom’s, and my teleportation ability saw me moved into the new house, though not fully unpacked.

Weather be damned. The guys had handled the stuff in storage, and once everything was present, I realized I didn’t have enough furniture for a house.

Since Dreamland wasn’t open on Sundays and Mondays, we’d been at loose ends anyway. I’d considered trying to collect items belonging to the other missing people, but finally decided against it. When we found Rico Guerra, we’d find them. I didn’t believe in coincidences enough to think otherwise, not with the Dreamland connection.

I’d been alone in my new house a few times during the moving process. Enough to realize how far from town it was, and how quiet. Ginger’s habit of jumping out of closets, rooms, or from around corners hadn’t helped. She’d earned a few screams from me, mainly because she’d grown less translucent and looked far more real.

I’d invited Logan and Dane to stay, and after a little discussion, they’d agreed to until Logan’s vacation time was up.

Dane was upstairs in the guest room, inflating the two airbeds I’d bought. Logan built a fire while I made hot chocolate.

Glancing out the kitchen window, I said, “It looks like Narnia out there. All I need is a lamp post.”

“I don’t remember them seeing a house when they came out of the wardrobe.”

“Well, no, but snow and trees? Those I have in spades.”

He finished his fire building and moved to the couch. “Right.”

“It occurs to me that Narnia could be real.”

“How’s that?”

“Think about it: A different world behind a magic entrance. That sounds like a pocket realm to me.”

“You have a point,” Logan agreed, propping his feet up on the coffee table and stretching his besocked toes toward the fire. He turned his head. “Do you need any help?”

“Nope.”

I picked up the mugs and went to join him, stepping over sleeping dogs to hand him one before sitting down. “Aslan could be a god or maybe an elf transformed into a lion.”

“Maybe. And the Snow Queen?”

“Ooh, I have it. She’s his wife, and cursed him into a lion because he consorted with one too many nymphs.”

Logan sipped his hot chocolate. “Is this a remix? Because that sounds like a Zeus and Hera sort of relationship.”

“Remixes are fun.” I leaned back, and propped up my feet, too. “Of course, no one noticed the kids were missing because time ran differently in Narnia from the real world.”

“True.” He petted Speck, who lay tucked between us.

Dane thumped downstairs. “Don’t you two look cozy. Is that hot chocolate?”

“Yes.” I left the couch to fix him a mug, and we spent the rest of the evening speculating on the potential of a real Narnia.

I
yawned my way downstairs, following the big dogs, with Squishy cautioning Speck as the Chihuahuas navigated the steps in my wake. Downstairs, Logan was on his phone. I let the dogs out the front door, promising the Chihuahuas I’d buy them coats soon.

“Discord,” Logan said, holding his phone out where I could see it had been muted, as Dane thumped down the stairs.

“Cordi. I was supposed to let everyone know she’d prefer for us to call her Cordi.”

“Oh. Cordi, we have another missing person. The Rex’s youngest son.”

Great. “He’s our ally, right? Tell him,” I paused. The only lion shifter I knew was Teague. Being part of the clan made me the lions’ ally too, and them, mine. It would probably be a good idea to meet more of them. “Scratch that. See if he wants to meet, and invite him here.”

From the quick smile Logan tossed me, I’d made the correct call on the matter. I let the Chihuahuas in and dried their tiny paws and legs.

“They’ll be here in about an hour,” Logan said after ending the call. “The Rex’s name is James O’Meara.”

“King James.” I chuckled, walking into the kitchen to start coffee. “How long has the son been missing?”

“Since Saturday.”

Dane cleared his throat. “I didn’t see one, but I’m pretty sure I smelled lion on a couple of women at Dreamland Saturday night.”

I fought a scowl. “So we were right there, again, when someone was nabbed.”

“Looks that way.” Logan leaned on the breakfast bar. “Is this going to be a problem with Mr. Whitehaven?”

“Nope.” After the adoption ceremony and returning to work, I’d had a talk with the boss. My contract specified no freelancing, and that specification was there for a reason: to protect me.

Well, to provide what protection being in Mr. Whitehaven’s employ could offer. Now that I had supe friends and was part of the tigers’ clan, I had responsibilities to them. That meant using my abilities, as I had in the past to help Logan stop the attempts to kidnap Terra.

It also meant using them to help the clan’s allies, when and if necessary. Mr. Whitehaven confirmed that, so while I’d update him, I didn’t need his permission to act. He’d basically told me that it was my call, because anything I chose to do outside of official cases would affect my new “political standing” in the supe community.

Helping my clan’s allies put a shine on my reputation. Not helping would tarnish not only my reputation, but the clan’s too.

I wasn’t willing to risk that, but it was nice that the first time a clan ally needed help, it tied into an official case. Two official cases, I amended while pouring coffee for everyone. Thorandryll was a client now too.

“Anything I need to know about O’Meara before he gets here?”

“He’s tough, but fair. A good leader, and nice enough, unless there’s a threat to his Pride.”

“Pride as in his group, and not his “pride” pride, right?” I went to the fridge for breakfast makings, having gone to the store the evening before. None of the restaurants delivered out this far.