The Dark Side (15 page)

“No alpha is ever going to be happy with his mate being at risk.”

“I’m not asking him to be happy about it. I’m not happy about it either. But I want him to work with me, not against me.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Yes. He doesn’t listen.”

“Keep trying. Sam and I used to butt heads too. See what happens after Sam has a chance to talk to him.”

I wished I could have the same sort of quiet faith that Ani’s voice held. “And if that doesn’t work?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

I shook my head. “That all I get?”

“No,” she said, shuffling forward on the couch. “You also get this.” She reached out and rested two fingers between my eyebrows.

“Whuh—” was all I had time to say before there was a confused blur of *shield-moon-glass-wall-think-protect* spinning through my head with hazy images and a rush of emotions. I rocked backward, breaking contact. “What the hell?”

“Shielding,” she said with a grin. “At least the basics.”

I shook my head, trying to ease the buzzing sensation in my brain. “I don’t understand.”

“Give it a day or so to settle and then we’ll try it out.”

“But—”

“Trust me, it’s easier this way. If I sit here and talk you through it, you’re just going to wind up confused and frustrated. Come over in a couple nights and I’ll tell you some more.”

“Why night?”

“It’s easier in moonlight, at least at first.”

“Why?”

She grinned. “We are tied to the moon. Makes sense that she gives us strength.”

I was still trying to sort through the images and sensations floating through my mind. “I’m seeing myself in a glass box, moonlight reflecting everywhere. Is that right?”

“Close enough. Don’t worry at it, it’ll make more sense if you wait.”

“Shielding is seeing myself in a magical moonlit glass box?” I couldn’t help the incredulous tone.

“What did you expect? Secret mind exercises and mysteries passed down the generations?” Her grin grew wider. “Actually, that’s kind of what you got. Just packaged up for speedier delivery.”

“So a few days and I’ll be able to do this?”

“No, a few days and you’ll understand how to do it. It takes practice to get good.”

“Great, I’ll just avoid Esteban until I get good.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Her eyes suddenly focused on the door. “I think I smell trouble. I’d better go see what the brats are up to before they burn the house down.” She stood and then bent down and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Try to relax and give Dan a chance. And come see me in a few days.”

* * *

“You’re late,” was Dan’s only greeting when I finally arrived at the Taskforce.

“Actually, I’m early.” It was just after one. Most days I didn’t arrive at the Taskforce until after five.“I was busy.”

Dan yanked open his desk drawer. “Doing what? Jase said you hadn’t come into the office.” He dropped a file into the drawer then closed it with a bang.

I lifted my chin. “I went to see Ani.” I wasn’t going to mention Tommy.

“You smell like gunpowder.”

“I bought bullets,” I lied. “I thought I should stock up.”

Dan looked disbelieving. “You think you need more ammo but you won’t use your panic button? You think if someone tries to take you that you’re going to turn around and blast your way free?”

“You think they’re going to stand around while I push a button?” I used my foot to push the door shut behind me.

Dan came around the desk. “No. But it doesn’t take long and you might get a chance to at some point.”

I blew out a breath. “Are you picking a fight for a reason? You know exactly where I was all morning because Esme and Ramirez were with me the whole time.”

His face tightened. “I’m not picking a fight, I’m trying to protect you. You’re putting yourself in danger. You didn’t use the button last night.”

“My choice.”

“Don’t I get a say?”

“Not if what you really mean is ‘don’t I get to choose for you?’”

“I mean—” He broke off and sat down with enough force that the chair creaked in protest. “I just want you to be safe.”

“And I don’t want to be in danger, but I have a job to do, several of them in fact. Esteban’s my client, Dan. And I don’t think he’s the type to mess around if I piss him off. So I’m trying not to piss him off.”

“I told you not to take that job.”

“I need to discharge my debts—” His face darkened at the reference. “I mean, debt. I have no intention of doing anything about the other one.”

“You could’ve asked Marco to give you something else to do for him.”

“What makes you think that would be any better than this?”

He tugged at his tie as he stared up at me. “It couldn’t be much worse.”

I sighed and sat in the chair beside his. “I think this conversation is going around in circles. Can we try a different subject? What was the meeting about this morning?”

“Smith calling you. What else?”

“Well, then you didn’t need me. I already know what he said. You have the transcripts, I’m sure.”

He nodded. “And after listening, we all agree on one thing.”

This couldn’t be good. “What’s that?”

“Whatever you’re poking around in for Esteban has to be linked to this.”

What? I sat down next to him as my knees went weak. “Are you kidding me?”

“Why else would Smith suddenly decide to threaten you? It’s been over two months since you killed Tate.”

Esteban and Smith in cahoots? Admittedly it had crossed my mind last night but nothing really bad had happened. If Esteban was trying to set me up for something then last night was a perfect opportunity. It didn’t feel right to me. “I don’t know...slow day at Psychos’R’Us, maybe? What makes you think Esteban has anything to do with this?”

“I didn’t say he did. But whatever he’s got you investigating pushed Smith’s buttons.”

“He couldn’t just be warning me off the case?”

“You’ve been working on this case for weeks now, since Tate died. Why start threatening you now unless something has changed?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “You’ve got to admit it’s only the last few weeks we’ve gotten serious again. You were hurt and...” I trailed off. There were really no words for the total insanity of the first few weeks after Tate died. “Or maybe Ramirez triggered something and Smith thought it was me. Have you asked him?”

“He says he was only looking at stuff you’d already been over. Something set Smith off last night. The only new link in the chain is Esteban.”

I didn’t like the spiky scared feeling in my stomach that agreed with him. “But we’d hardly done anything,” I objected. “Just downloaded some data and looked at a few accounts. How would Smith even know?”

“You’re the forensic accountant, you tell me.”

I tried to think about it objectively. “There could be some sort of tracking program—in the system or in one of the

banks—or someone at the club tipped them off. Those are the most likely options.”

“And if it’s something in the system?”

“Could be anything.” And really, how unlikely was it that we’d stumble into that particular club first off? So were all of Esteban’s clubs being subverted somehow? Jase was right, whoever had the balls to embezzle from an Old One had to be pretty darn sure of themselves.

The sort of person who’d felt comfortable holding Tate’s leash would seem to fit that description pretty well.

“Earth to Ash?” Dan prompted. “What are you thinking?”

I swallowed, trying to ease the sudden desert in my mouth. “I’m thinking I need to get back to the office and look at what we pulled from Infradark last night. Look for clues.”

“Sounds like a plan. Why don’t you take Andy with you?”

“Esteban agreed to Jase helping me, not the FBI.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry, we’ll deal with Esteban.”

“How exactly?” The last thing I needed was Esteban after me as well as Smith. Dan wasn’t exactly in a ‘treat the vampire with kid gloves’ kind of mood.

“If you find anything we’ll get a warrant for the data from him. After all, he’s a good, law-abiding businessman or so his lawyers always claim. He should want to cooperate with the FBI.”

“He didn’t show much sign of wanting to cooperate with you the other night. He’s going to go nuts.”

“That’s my problem.”

“I kind of think it will be mine. He wanted this to be a secret.”

“You didn’t tell us anything. Smith’s call tipped us off.”

 “You know, someone warned me a little while ago that I was jumping from the frying pan into the fire. Maybe you should take your own advice.” I rose. “I have to get back to the office, are you still coming to Caldwell with me tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

The no-hesitation answer made me feel better about things. “Thank you.”

* * *

By six a.m. I was up, packed, and pacing around my house, well before Dan was due to pick me up. He’d been called out to another case just past midnight so hadn’t made it home.

By nine a.m., I’d had too much coffee, too little sleep, and there were too many elephant-sized butterflies tap-dancing in my stomach. The sight of Dan’s big Jeep pulling into the driveway calmed them a little. Only a little. I carted my bags out onto the porch while he was still parking.

“You’re keen,” he said, easing himself out of the car. He walked over and picked up my case. “You okay?”

“Not really. But I’m going anyway.”

He nodded. Then dropped the bag and pulled me toward him. “I’ll be right there with you.” He smoothed hair back from my face then lowered his mouth to mine.

His kiss was soothing rather than sexy, just a gentle press of lips moving softly over mine as if he could transfer some strength or vitality to me.

I was the one who pulled him closer and kissed him back frantically. I hoped that he might be able to make everything go away for a few moments.

And he did. Heat and Dan replaced everything else in my brain as his tongue touched mine. It reminded me that the full moon was coming next week. The waxing of the moon always stirs a werewolf’s blood.

Which made it kind of bad timing that we were about to spend the night at my aunt’s. A small bed and the knowledge of Bug just a few walls away tended to keep us behaving ourselves.

Then again, it was unlikely I’d be still in the mood once I got home.

Not with what I had to do tomorrow.

I pulled away after tasting Dan one last time. “We should get going.”

He nodded and I saw the same combination of regret and hesitation and lust in his eyes that coursed through me. “Can’t keep Bug waiting.”

I didn’t talk much on the way down. In fact, I stuck the earbuds of my iPod in my ears and focused on trying to find something in my music library that suited my mood.

Nothing seemed to help all that much. My mind kept returning to tomorrow.

To the memorial service.

To everything I didn’t want to remember.

To pain.

The memorial service is held in two parts. A nondenominational service at the town hall and then laying wreaths and flowers at the graveyard.

Everyone walks to each of the victims’ graves.

Everyone cries.

I know it’s meant to help but it never makes me feel any better to look down and see three granite stones carved with the names of my parents and sister and to know they’re gone forever.

In fact, I’d rather have a tooth in need of root canal.

That’s the part that hurts, you know. The before. People say I’d rather have root canal but that bit doesn’t hurt. Not if your dentist has the lovely needles. Sure it hurts a bit afterward, which is why God invented Codeine but it’s the piercing, throbbing, ache beforehand when your tooth is trying to tell you it’s dying that’s the painful part.

That’s what standing over those graves feels like to me each and every year.

Like being pierced by it all over again.

Like part of me dying all over again.

I wasn’t looking forward to the experience. Worse, I couldn’t help thinking about the reminder that had popped up on my calendar yesterday about my vaccinations.

Every year for twelve years I’d been to the memorial, and I’d done it with an arm that ached and burned from the vaccine boosters. It felt necessary somehow; like my suffering honored theirs and that my commitment to staying alive for them was renewed.

This year my arm wouldn’t hurt at all.

This year, I wasn’t human anymore. Werewolves didn’t need the vaccinations.

Which was only going to make the pain worse than ever.

Dan had the sense to stay quiet for most of the trip down, only asking if I wanted anything when he stopped for gas. I shook my head, keeping my sunglasses on and the music loud as I stared out the window, not really seeing the familiar scenery whizzing by.

He held my hand as we walked up to Bug’s front door.

Bug bustled us inside and started fussing.

It was almost more than I could bear and I ended up pleading a headache and escaping upstairs for a nap for a few hours. But I couldn’t hide forever.

The next morning dread churned my stomach, making me refuse Bug’s breakfast. And turning down Bug’s pancakes and bacon with homemade syrup is a crime. Dan and Bug both frowned when I turned down coffee as well. I told them to stop fussing. Bug made me peppermint tea then left me alone.

I retreated to the front room, staring out at the sunny day. The memorial started at noon. I guess they picked the time as a statement about humans and daylight and survival. Though sunshine wasn’t guaranteed on any day in Caldwell.

When it came time to get ready, my stomach was worse than ever. I wondered whether I’d make it through the ceremony without puking. But I told myself I felt like this every year and I’d be fine once it was over. I was lying. It didn’t feel this bad every year. This year I was upset and anxious, not just upset. I couldn’t shake the feeling something bad was going to happen.

Apparently Smith had spooked me more than I’d realized.

“You’re sure it’s okay that I’m here?” I asked Bug for the twentieth time as we descended the stairs.

“You’re one of us,” Bug said to me, tugging at the top button of the collar of her bright purple dress. They’d introduced a ‘no black’ rule after the first year, on the theory that the service should be a celebration of the lives of the victims. We all obediently wore cheerful colors but it still didn’t feel like a celebration. My suit was dark green. Jase had said that was cheating so I’d added a vivid raspberry scarf. He’d approved the combo. I wasn’t sure it didn’t just make me
look
like a raspberry.