Touch of Darkness (30 page)

I didn’t answer that. It was none of my business if Bryan wanted to throw away his money. As long as his bills were paid and he wasn’t mooching off family to get by, it was his life.

“Well, if he comes in, have him give me a call.”

“Sure. Is that it?”

“Yeah.”

“Should I tell Leo you called?”

I thought about it for a minute as I grabbed the mug of cold coffee from the table and dumped its contents into the sink. “Nah. I’ll check back later. Thanks, though.”

“No problema.”

He hung up without saying good-bye, but I was okay with that. Steve has his issues, but he’s dependable enough in his own way. He’d give Bryan the message, but he’d expect me to buy him a beer and a shot the next time I was in, as payment. Seemed a fair price to pay.

I hit the series of numbers that would ring back the last person who called me and tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear. It was uncomfortable, but it left my hands free to run dishwater in the sink and start cleaning up the breakfast mess. I was sliding the biscuits into a zipper-top plastic bag when she picked up the line.

“Good morning, Kate.”

“Morning. What’re you doing up and about so bright and early?” I glanced up at the clock. It wasn’t even 5:00 yet.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she sighed. Just those few short words, and I could tell she was not only tired, but weary. There’s a difference, at least to my mind. Tired is a physical state that comes from overwork or lack of sleep. Weariness is usually the result of stress and frustration. Tired I get by itself sometimes. Weariness almost never travels alone.

“So?”

“I’m at the hospital. Ruby had the baby. She’s a girl. Eight pounds three ounces with thick brown hair and a set of lungs you wouldn’t believe.”

I was grinning as I threw the bag of biscuits in the refrigerator.

“Are they okay?”

“Mostly. It was a hard delivery. Ruby will need to stay in the hospital for a day or two, and the baby’s a little jaundiced, so they’re going to put her under the bilirubin lights.”

“That’s not serious, is it?”

“Nah, not really. Lots of kids are jaundiced at birth. For a werewolf delivery it actually went pretty well. They’re both going to be fine.”

I grabbed Tom’s plate and began scraping the uneaten portion of his food into the trash. “Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing really. I’m just tired. But before I get caught up in the day I wanted to give you a call, see if you and Tom would stop by the hospital during visiting hours. Ruby wants to talk to the two of you.”

That seemed a little odd to me, but the kid had been lonely since Jake died, and we had started getting more friendly in Las Vegas. “Okay. No problem. It’s going to be a couple of hours before we can manage it, though. Which hospital is she at?”

“St. E’s.” Mary gave me the room number.

“Cool. I’ll bring flowers.”

“That’d be nice. She’ll like that.”

There was an odd inflection in Mary’s voice. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what the problem was. She’d said Ruby was fine, that the baby was fine. So why wasn’t she happy? The pack had been desperate for babies. Both surrogates had now delivered; a boy and a girl. She should be practically delirious. She obviously wasn’t. Mary, can you hear me? I sent a thread of thought in her direction. She might or might not be psychic. I’d found out after Jake’s death that most of the wolves are connected to each other through the pack. It’s a bond and it’s psychic, but it’s not as direct or concrete as what I have and the hive mentality the Thrall used. They might not know when a fellow pack member was in trouble, but they felt the absence if one died, and sometimes strong emotions could bleed over from one to the other. I’d never seen it, but I’ve been told that watching a tight-knit pack hunt or fight as a unit was impressive as hell.

“What are you doing, Kate?” She sounded suspicious.

“Oh, just cleaning up from breakfast,” is what I said out loud. Mind to mind I said something entirely different. We need to talk. There are things I need to tell you that we can’t discuss on the phone. Can you come to the house? It’s important.

“Breakfast sounds pretty damned good about now. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.” Fine, Reilly. But it better be important. I’ve got dignitaries arriving all day, security measures to take care of, and last-minute crap to deal with at the convention center. I do not need anything more on my plate.

I kept my voice light and cheerful, despite the worry in my mind. “Well, drive on over then and I’ll feed you some fresh biscuits.”

That’s fine, Mary, but don’t talk about anything important over the phone. I’d never heard a growl in my mind before. But there it was as she replied psychically. Why not?

Your home phone’s been bugged. They may have done your cell phone too.

“WHAT!?” She shouted it out loud. I flinched, and the phone popped out from between shoulder and ear to clatter against the edge of the sink. I had to bat at it with my hands to keep it from falling into the soapy water.

“What in the hell are you talking about?” I could hear her clearly, even though the phone had fallen to the floor. She was snarling, and there was a guttural quality to her voice that I didn’t like hearing at all. She’d been a long time without sleep or food. Her control over her beast might not be at its best. But hopefully, if her phone was being tapped, those listening would just think I’d suggested doing something kinky with biscuits that outraged her, rather than getting suspicious.

I picked up the cell phone and spoke lightly, my voice utterly bland, but tinged with a bit of faked embarrassment.

“Gosh, I didn’t mean it like that, Mary. I just think we need to have a little chat about some things a friend of ours told me yesterday. I would’ve called you sooner, but I wound up with a migraine.”

Mary! Stop. You need to separate what you think from what you say. I know it’s a shock to find out, but I think we can use it to our advantage. That’s one of the things I want to talk about. Just don’t let on that you know about the tap until after we’ve had a chance to talk, okay?

I heard her let out a slow breath and when she replied, she chuckled lightly. It definitely sounded forced, but that was better than angry. “Actually, Joe wanted to bring by a present for you anyway. Think you could whip us both up some breakfast if we stop by?”

Her thoughts brushing mine were horrified and filled with fear. I didn’t blame her. Saints preserve us, Kate. I’ve made all of our plans for the conference from the house. All our security measures, everything was discussed on that phone. This is a disaster.

I was afraid of that. Trust me. Please. At least long enough to hear me out. “Sure, come on over. I’ll put the coffee on.”

“We’ll be there just as soon as I can haul Joseph out of bed. And yes, coffee sounds wonderful.”

“Bye then.”

She paused and her voice sounded distracted as she replied. “Bye.”

I hung up the phone, setting it on the counter as far away from the sink as I could get it. Even if Joe drove like a lunatic I probably had a half hour before they could get here; say twenty minutes to be on the safe side. With no time to lose, I moved like a madwoman through the kitchen, throwing out what couldn’t be kept, putting the dirty dishes in the sink to soak and putting another pot of coffee on to brew. I finished with ten minutes on the clock, barely enough time to shower and throw on clean clothes.

I dashed through the house, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood. Tom was still out of it, but I could tell from the squeaking of the bedsprings that Elaine was moving about restlessly. If she got up we’d have to include her. I’d like to prevent that if at all possible. I didn’t want to give her an excuse for criticizing Mary and the pack, blaming me, or both.

I couldn’t make her sleep, but I did tiptoe around as quietly as I could, barely daring to breathe as I passed by her door on my way back to the bathroom carrying the clothes I’d be changing into.

I didn’t dawdle under the spray, didn’t take advantage of the hand-held shower massage. There was simply no time. I needed to be clean. I’d spent a long, hard day and night in the same clothes. I stank. So I scrubbed myself down, rinsed myself off, and climbed out so fast that the mirror hadn’t even misted over. Grabbing the knob, I pulled open the linen cabinet and found nothing. Not even a freaking cobweb. Shit! There were towels here yesterday. Bryan took a shower, I took a bath. I hung the towels back up to dry. Where are they?

I checked the hamper. No luck. They were simply gone. Maybe Tom had thrown them in the wash—or the guys had used them for something when they were cleaning up the graffiti. It didn’t really matter. I didn’t have time to worry about it. I’d have to figure out what to do by the time Elaine took a shower, but right now I needed to get dressed. So I took the tee-shirt I’d been going to wear and used it to dry off and wrap my wet hair. That left me wearing sweat pants and a sports bra, but hey, I was decent, and in the living room waiting by the door when I heard Joe’s SUV pull up.

It was cold enough that my breath misted the air as I stepped onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind me. The wooden floor of the porch was cold and rough beneath my bare feet as I paced over to the steps to greet my company.

“Are you drying your hair with a tee-shirt?” Mary stood next to the open door of the vehicle. Her voice sounded incredulous. I opened my mouth to explain, but Joe beat me to it.

“Oh crap, the towels! Kate, I’m sorry.” His expression was a mixture of horror and guilt. “I didn’t even think. And you with company.”

Mary and I turned to him simultaneously with curious expressions.

He stood, leaning his arms on the roof of the car. He was trying for a relaxed pose, but I could tell that he was actually supporting a lot of his weight with his upper body; something in his posture showed the strain his face concealed. “Bryan and I came over yesterday to help Tom clean up and paint over the graffiti. I’m still kind of clumsy, and I accidentally knocked over one of the paint buckets on the kitchen floor. The only thing I could think to use to clean it all up in a hurry was the towels. It didn’t even occur to me that they were probably the only ones you have right now.”

“It’s all right, Joe, really.” He was mortified, and obviously feeling guilty. How could I be angry? He’d come over at a moment’s notice to help get the place cleaned up before Elaine arrived despite the fact that his legs aren’t steady, and moving is not only still hard, it hurts.

He shook his head. “Your guest is going to be getting up in a little bit. She’s going to want a shower. You need towels.” He turned from me to Mary. “I’m going to run down to the SuperCenter. It’s open all night. You can fill me in on what I miss when I get back.”

“Let me get my wallet,” I called out as he climbed back into the SUV. He heard, but he waved the suggestion away irritably and slammed the door.

“Let him take care of it.” Mary shut the door and stepped away from the car. “It’ll make him feel better.”

“But—” I started to protest, but she shut me up with a very pointed look.

“Let him take care of it,” she repeated firmly.

“Right. Well, okay then. Come on in where it’s warm. I’ve got the coffee on.”

I opened the door and stepped gratefully back into the warmth of the house, shuddering a little from the change in temperature. I draped the damp tee-shirt over the back of one of the chairs, promising myself I’d take it downstairs and throw it in the dryer before Elaine got up.

“You shouldn’t have gone out with wet hair. You’re liable to catch your death,” Mary scolded. She kept her voice soft so as not to wake anyone who was still sleeping and stepped carefully around the meditation gear that was still spread out on the living room floor.

“You sound like my mother. She always used to say that.” I walked back to the kitchen with her at my heels. She took a seat at the table while I went to the cabinet and got us fresh coffee cups.

“So did mine.” She grinned. “I think it’s in the manual.” I filled the mug and handed it to her. She took a long drink, closing her eyes as she did to inhale the aroma. “Oh, I needed this. I really did.” She gave a long sigh. “But back to business. Explain to me about this little ‘bomb’ you dropped on me at the hospital. What in the hell is going on?”

“Let me check on Tom first. I haven’t told him any of this yet, and he may want to get up to hear it. In the meantime, there are fresh biscuits in the fridge, and jam if you want it. I’ll be making breakfast again later, but you look like you could use a quick pick-me-up.”

In fact, she looked like something the cat dragged in—after having played with it for quite a while.

“I could at that,” she admitted. She groaned, and started to rise, but I waved her back into her seat.

“Never mind. I’ll get it. You just rest.” I went to the fridge and retrieved not only the muffins but the rest of the leftovers as well. A few seconds in the microwave and the bacon would be good as new. The eggs, not so much. They tend to get rubbery. But it would only take a minute to scramble up some more. I’d do it while we were talking. I slid the bacon slices between a pair of paper towels and stuck them in the microwave. With the push of a button they were on the way to warming up.

“I’ll be right back.”

I moved silently through the house, listening as hard as I could. Everything sounded peaceful behind Elaine’s door. Tom, on the other hand, was “sawing logs.” I opened the bedroom door to find him curled up next to the cat. Blank gave me what I would’ve sworn was an embarrassed look before jumping off the far side of the bed.

“Yeah, you’re just terrified of him. I can tell,” I chuckled. I love that cat.

“Hmnn?” Tom rolled over onto his back. He looked up at me through slitted eyes, his mind obviously still sleep fogged. But he wasn’t as pale as he had been, which was good. And I knew he’d be angry if I didn’t at least ask.

“Mary’s here. I’m going to tell her about everything I know or have guessed about what’s going on. Do you—”

“I’ll be right there.” He rolled out of bed in a smooth movement and snagged a tee-shirt from the pile of dirty clothes on the floor. He wasn’t quite back to normal, but nearly enough to be moving quickly. I fought down a twinge of envy. Oh, how I wish I could heal like the lycanthropes. But I’m human. I just don’t.