How Nina Got Her Fang Back: Accidental Quickie (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 13) (2 page)

Nina’s broken childhood, her hard and quite lean times as an adult, her journey from single court stenographer to cosmetic-slinging dental hygienist to wife of a semi-powerful clan member and mother to what the clan had titled a “vampini,” and her constant defiance of authority were all things that intrigued January.

But what intrigued her most, what she couldn’t deny, was Nina’s steadfast loyalty to the people she called family, to the people in crisis she helped. She displayed all the signs of a strong leader without the diplomacy of one.

She bucked the system on a regular basis when called to task for the kinds of shenanigans of which she was accused. Or more precisely, she stuck both middle fingers up at the system and went along her merry way as though there were no rules for proper clan etiquette.

But what was even more fascinating was how Nina and the other two women involved in this OOPS hotline had met, and become so tightly knit.

Through selling Bobbie-Sue makeup door-to-door and an accidental bite in an alleyway by a werewolf named Keegan Flaherty.

Ba-dum-bum.

Eight years later, there were mates aplenty, demons, cat-shifters, genies, bears, manservants, children, and even a half zombie. But together, they’d built this network of ties to one another. This cobbled-together bond from all walks of the paranormal, which the clan called “unbreakable.”

The trouble was, while yes, Nina’s friends had indeed sought January’s help, and it was also true they’d waited three months to get an appointment, it wasn’t only because she was so highly revered in her profession.

The clan, as a whole globally, wanted time to put together a case
against
Nina. Not just Nina’s immediate clan either. No. The
entire
race of vampires wanted answers for Nina’s behavior. Council hierarchy had bypassed her immediate officials and even the sire to her clan overruling any objections, deciding it was time to take a closer look at her and her actions.

All this at the urging of one zealous madman—and this jackhole wanted Dr. January Malone to help prove Nina was no longer fit to be a clan member.

At even more of said jackhole’s urging, they wanted this assessment presented at a trial of her elders and the leaders of the paranormal council. This jackhole wanted Nina gone because she was mated to a vampire and was essentially, through the strangest twist of events in a place called Shamalot, a human once again.

In essence, they—or he, to be precise—wanted her shunned.

Forever.

* * * *

A tall, slender woman, her hair in a fashionable updo, her outfit elegant and pristine, barreled through January’s office door and lobbed Nina from her shoulder onto the chair opposite her desk like a sack of potatoes, knocking over a fake ficus tree in the process.

She swooped down and stood the tree upright, all while pressing her palm flat to Nina’s chest to keep her rooted in the chair.

Then she sneered down at her with the oddest mixture of love and annoyance in her eyes January had ever personally witnessed.

Her next words were cool and calculated. “You move, I eat your face off, Statleon. Feel me, bad ass?”

As Nina was clearly about to protest, the stylish woman clapped her hand over the ex-vampire’s mouth and leaned in, thrusting her face in her friend’s with flaring nostrils and flashing eyes. “Not a word.
Not one
. When I move my hand, you will sit like the lady I’ve taught you to be, speak to the nice doctor with full and coherent sentences, and then you will end your session with a big fat ‘thank you for seeing me. May I have another, Dr. Malone?’”

Nina’s slender fingers wrapped around her friend’s wrist as she tried to remove her hand, but her friend tightened the clamp she had across her mouth and said, “Nod once for yes. Don’t bother to nod for no because I’ll knock your block right off your pretty shoulders if you don’t do what you’re told.
Comprende, mi amiga
?”

Nina’s hoodie had fallen from her head, her dark hair cascading around her unfairly gorgeous face as she nodded her consent. Oh, but her eyes, those brilliant charcoal-black, almond-shaped slivers in her head? They said “piss off.”

Her friend let go, jerking Nina’s body in the chair, and turned to face January, running a hand over her mussed skirt before holding it out and beaming a warm smile. “Wanda Schwartz-Jefferson, Dr. Malone. It’s such a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for so graciously agreeing to do so.”

January shook her hand, the fine-boned fingers cool to her touch, and smiled back. “One of Nina’s best friends, I assume?”

Her smile was warm and open, her makeup artfully applied with subtle strokes, highlighting her clear skin and sparkling eyes. “After that entrance, I’m sure you doubt the validity of that statement, but yes. I’m one of them, and I apologize. Sometimes brute force is the only way to handle a situation with our troubled ex-vampire.”

“And I’m BFF number two,” a pretty blonde with fluffy hair falling down to the middle of her back and sparkling sapphire-blue eyes said from the doorway.

She strode across the threshold, her fashionable wedge sandals hushed, her flowing print maxi dress floating about her ankles as she dumped a can of Pepsi and a bag of something that smelled a lot like chicken wings into Nina’s lap.

She, too, held out her hand with a smile as warm and open as her friend Wanda’s. “Marty Flaherty. Lovely to meet you. Please help us.
Please
. I’ll give up my ovaries and free makeup for life if you’ll just help us.”

As January rose to shake her hand, she noted Nina slumped farther down in her chair and pulled a napkin from the pocket of her hoodie. Then she proceeded to pop open the can of Pepsi and root about in the bag, pulling out a chicken wing and holding it up as though she’d found the answer to the meaning of life before digging in.

“Is there anything you need from us? Some way we can help this process?” Wanda asked as she nudged Nina with an elbow and frowned, using her thumb to wipe away the buffalo wing sauce at the corner of her friend’s mouth.

Marty nodded her head and crossed her arms over her chest, making her bangle bracelets jangle. “Anything. We’ll do anything. Please, just make her better, or nicer, or less like a giant on a lust-filled rampage for Lilliputian blood. And for the love of the ruler of the universe, get her to stop
eating
so much. She’ll have heart disease and clogged arteries if she licks one more Cheetos bag clean.”

But January just smiled the way all good professionals do when they sense urgency from family and friends to hurry up and fix their loved ones. “I think we’ll be fine, ladies, but thank you so much for—”

“Dumping my reluctant, ever-growing ass in your overpriced therapy chair?” Nina finally spoke before taking another enormous bite out of her chicken wing and licking each of her fingers.

Her voice was oddly pleasant, husky and deeper than January had anticipated. Somehow, she’d thought she’d be louder, more nasally and abrasive.

Wanda tugged a length of her friend’s silky hair in chastisement. “Nina, be polite. And for all that’s holy, chew with your mouth closed. Now, we’ll be right outside this door. If you need us—or should I say more aptly, if Dr. Malone needs us—please just give a yell. We’ve got your back.”

Leaning down, Marty dropped a kiss on the top of Nina’s head and patted her shoulder with what January noted was deep affection and worry—so much worry, it was clear to a medical professional’s eye it was eating the woman up. “Get well, ex-bloodsucker. I love you.”

But Nina swatted her blonde friend away with her free hand and a frown—because affection and nurturing weren’t her bag, and that was more than obvious.

“Get the eff off and go look at the pretty pictures in
Cosmo
. Isn’t that your Bible? I’m sure there’s some dumbass article in there you haven’t seen yet. Like ten ways to turn your man on with tofu and Vaseline. Maybe they’ll even have pictures.”

Wanda closed her eyes and sighed a ragged breath before she, too, planted a kiss on the top of Nina’s head with the same pained, worried expression. “Do this for Charlie, Nina. If for no one else, do it for her. I love you.”

As both women took their leave in clouds of fruity perfume and beautiful clothing, January repositioned herself in her chair and put on her glasses. They always made her feel like she was in charge, in control.

Which was likely ludicrous with this wild card sitting in front of her, but they still helped her with the
pretense
of control, anyway. They also helped to hide her lying eyes.

Folding her hands in front of her, she began. “So no introductions needed, I suppose. But just in case, I’m Dr. January Malone.”

Nina grunted and tilted her chin upward. “Just in case, I’m Nina Blackman-Statleon. Not a doctor, but I play one on TV.” Then she cackled, pleased with her joke.

Nina was in the phase where she wasn’t taking this enormous change in her life or therapy seriously just yet.

So January humored her with a return cackle. “I have a master’s degree in paranormal psychology and human studies. I’ve been practicing for over thirty years.”

The ex-vampire licked her fingers. “I have a degree in chicken wings, beer, and fuck you up if you look at me the wrong way. I’ve been practicing for over forty.”

January fought another grin and continued. “And you’re an
ex
-vampire.”

She displayed the slightest twitch in her tight body language, almost unnoticeable, before her eyes hardened and her jaw cracked. “Yep. That’s me. Ex-night dweller.”

Reaching in her drawer, January pulled out her favorite paranormal accoutrement and held it up so the soft lighting of her office caught the sparkling tip. “If you’re wondering how someone like me can hope to help a person like you, just FYI, I’m a witch—and that also accounts for how young I look as compared to my medical practicing experience. So I understand the inner workings of the paranormal, the lifestyle, the challenges of living in a human world in hiding, etcetera.”

Nina, who’d been very studiously digging around in the chicken wing bag, looked up suddenly, her sharp eyes boring holes into January’s face. “Shut the fuck up. Is that a real goddamn wand?”

January made a swishy circle in the air and pointed it at Nina’s feet, lighting a small fire before snapping her fingers to extinguish the flames. “Yep.”

“You got a crystal ball?”

“It’s at the dry cleaners.”

Nina cackled, but then she eyed January with skepticism. “Aw, but hold up. Like abracadabra, pointy-hat witch, or crazy-ass, wart-on-your-nose, dance-naked-in-a-pentagram witch?”

January almost snorted, but she fought it in an effort to keep her role as caregiver on task. “Um, more along the lines of abracadabra and white witch. Herbal remedies, the occasional spell. No broom or cauldron, though. But sometimes, if the mood is right, I’ll break out the pointy hat. Just because it kinda looks cute on me and it’s a mean conversation starter.”

“Hah! In all the tenth-level nutassery we’ve witnessed, we haven’t seen one witch. A genie, yeah. But no witches. Can you even believe that shit, Doc? Very cool gig you got there.” She gave January a thumbs-up then cracked her knuckles as though preparing to do battle.

“It has its perks.” And today, it was having its not-so perks.

“Okay, now that we got all the pleasantries and common courtesy bullshite out of the way, let’s get the show on the road. I don’t really want to be here. Like, I wanna be here about as much as I wanna be at a Payless BOGO on a Saturday in Manhattan. I hate feelings, I hate talking about feelings. I hate to feel, got that? But I’m doing it because my kid needs a healthy mother with a healthy mind, and those two morons with the title BFF use her as their tool to get me to do what they want me to do all the time. So I’m here.” Then she paused and peered at January before scooting the chair forward and taping her index finger on the desk between them. “Shouldn’t you be writing this shit down in that stack o’ crap you got there?”

January flapped a hand at her before pointing to her temple. “Nah. I’ve got a pretty good memory. Anyway, as you were saying…feelings suck or something along those lines?”

Nina pointed a chicken wing at her. “Exactly. I don’t know why everyone wants me to talk about how I feel now that I’m not a vampire. I think it’s GD obvious. I can eat whatever the fluff I want. I can go outside without slathering myself from head to toe with that coconutty shit Marty’s always carrying around in her mom bag. And did I say I can eat whatever the fuck I want?”

“You did. Twice in one paragraph. But you failed to tell me if this huge change in your life makes you happy. Does it? Make you happy? Are you happier without the burden of immortality? Or is that an emotion you hate, too?”

Nina sighed, running her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “Is this one of those games you head doctors play to get me to say shit I don’t want to say? Can’t we do the thing where you show me all the pictures and I tell you everything looks like entrails and death and then you write it down in your notes in my fat-ass chart, you call me violent and volatile, and we call it a day?”

January fought a smile. “The Rorschach test? I’m a paranormal psychologist, Nina. We don’t operate in quite the same way as a human doctor would. So no pictures or flash cards. Just you and me and an evaluation of where you’re at in your life.”

Nina took a long gulp of her Pepsi, using her forearm to wipe her mouth. “I’m at chicken wings and Ring-Dings. That’s where I’m at.”

“Do you want to stay there?”

“Nope. I’d like to move on to a ham and Swiss on rye and some seasoned curly fries, but my friends say I have to sit here with you while you dig around inside my head and fix me.”

“Do you always listen to your friends?”

“Only when I want to or when they make some damn sense.”

“So you’re the master of your own ship then? No one tells you how to steer your course?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, did you already use a metaphor for my life? Yes, I’m the master of my ship. I’m the head cheerleader of my life’s fucking cheerleading team. I’m the goddamn top dog, CEO of the Corporation of Nina. Okay?” she spat, her lips tight, her teeth clenched. “I gotta use the facilities. You mind?” She held up her hands to show January they were sticky with Buffalo wing sauce.