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Authors: Piers Anthony

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BOOK: WereWoman
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“Not at all.”

“So this is a cold contact.”

“Frigid,” she agreed.

I sighed. “Let's get over there.”

Nonce drove me. Her car was a silent electric, breathtakingly expensive but a pleasure to be in. “It's a far drive out to the castle,” she said. “Let's get in the back seat; it's shielded from observation.”

“While driving?” I asked, alarmed.

“It's self driving. I put it on autopilot.” She lifted her hands away from the steering wheel, and I saw it steering itself.

What the hell. My passion was still new, and evidently hers was too. We climbed into the back seat and made out while the car found its own way to the programmed address.

“Approaching destination,” a soft voice said.

“Damn,” Nonce said. She gave me one more kiss, and put herself back together. We resumed our proper places up front just in time for the car to park.

VAMPIRE VANTAGE, the sign said at the entrance to the gloomy castle. It was a tourist trap, obviously faked up. The tourists didn't know that the realistic Vampires weren't men and women in costume, but real ones, and that when they sprouted fangs and wings they weren't faking them. But of course they didn't actually feed on tourists, because that would very soon have destroyed their secrecy.

We approached the front desk inside. “We need to talk with Vomish,” Nonce told the beautifully fanged desk clerk. “Business.” I noted mentally that some Clans had personal names starting with any letter, as was the case with Weres and Witches, while others all started with the Clan letter, like V for Vamps. To each its own convention.

“We can make an appointment for next week.”

“We need it now.”

“That is not possible. Vomish is away this week.”

Nonce reached out and touched the woman's hand. “Supe business.”

The girl's eyes widened as she recognized the aura of the Witch. Supe business indeed. She glanced at me. I extended my own hand, and she took it, becoming aware that I was a Were. Now she knew this was serious; a Witch and a Were did not just drop in on a Vamp leader to play tiddlywinks. “His assistant Vachelle is available.”

“That will have to do,” Nonce said.

We were ushered into a somber private office buried in the depths of the interior. A sultry black-haired creature greeted us. “Welcome to our humble demesnes, Phil and Nonce,” she said. “I am Vachelle, assistant to the Clan Chief Vomish.” She smiled, showing her dainty fangs. “Perhaps I can help you.” She wore a dark cape, a skintight bodice, and a very short skirt. She was clearly formidable in bed.

“We hope so,” Nonce said. “Our business is urgent.”

“A Witch and a Were,” Vachelle said. “An unusual combination.”

“We are lovers,” Nonce said. “Sometimes odd liaisons happen.”

“I might be able to serve you even so,” the Vampiress said. “I am what you might term a switch hitter, comfortable with both men and women, apart or together.” She stroked her bodice delicately, making her breasts quiver, and her skirt seemed to hitch up a notch. It was sexy as all hell, by no accident.

“Strictly each other,” Nonce said. “Our love is new.”

Now I understood why Nonce had mentioned our relationship. Vampires used sex as a device to make victims amenable. Who minded losing a little blood, considering the phenomenal sex? Nonce was letting her know we weren't in that market.

“Ah, well. Maybe next month.” Then she gave us a straight gaze. “I was only teasing. What is your business?”

My turn. “There have been three recent murders of Supes. We suspect they are related. That a serial killer is going after Supes. This alarms us, and we want to stop it as soon as possible.”

“What Clans?”

“Were, Witch, Vamp,” I said. “The Were was my closest friend. The Warlock was Nonce's cousin. We don't know the Vamp. That's why we need your help.”

“You are thinking of Vulcan. He died suspiciously four days ago. We have not publicized his demise. You evidently have your sources.”

“We Witched out the news of the death,” Nonce said. “Not the details. We would not have been so much concerned, had it not been followed by deaths among our own Clans.”

“We are interested in your quest,” Vachelle said. “But we require some authentication of your status. We seldom indulge in extracurricular liaisons.”

“By that you mean close work with other Supes?” I asked.

“We do normally prefer to stay within our Clan.”

“What kind of authentication?” Nonce asked tightly.

“A little blood. That will tell us whatever we need to know.”

“We don't like giving blood,” I said. “There are said to be consequences.”

“Sit down. Perhaps I can reassure you.”

We sat in the plush low couches she indicated, and Vachelle sat opposite us, crossing her legs. Naturally this exposed her thighs to the crotch, which appeared to be bereft of panties. My own crotch pulsed in involuntary response; I had a sudden urge to make close contact. Nonce, oddly, seemed to be similarly fascinated. “Cut it out!” she snapped.

“There is a reason,” Vachelle said. “I am not asking to feed on you. Merely to take a single drop of your blood. That will enable me to attune to your sincerity of nature and purpose. If you are trying to deceive me, this will expose it. If you are sincere, this will conform it. Then I will assist you to the limit of my ability. The taking of that drop will not poison you or convert you to Vampire status. It is merely the way we invoke our magic. If you want my trust, you will have to trust me to that extent.” She smiled. “And the glimpse I provide you of my body will make the taking of that drop painless, even pleasurable. It seems a fair exchange.”

She had put it on the line, and it did make sense. Every Clan had its own ways. “I will do it,” I said.

“I am glad of that.” The Vampiress uncrossed her legs, in the process providing me an even better glimpse that nearly anesthetized me by itself, and came to me where I sat. She bent forward at the waist, showing me the marvelously intricate curvature of her breasts within the bodice. She kissed me on the mouth, and I seemed to float toward the ceiling. Then she kissed me on the neck and stepped back.

“Aren't you going to take the blood?” I asked.

She laughed. “I have taken it. I sucked it in as I bit you on the neck.”

I touched my neck with my fingers. There was a bit of dampness there. “I thought that was another kiss.”

“It was. Our kind.”

“Oh.” It had indeed been a pleasure, both the glimpses and the touches.

Vachelle approached Nonce similarly, leaning down to kiss her mouth, then her neck. “I'm not a lesbian,” Nonce said. “But with you I could almost do it. You certainly have the touch.”

“Thank you. Now I will provide you full information for your quest. You both have satisfied me as to your sincerity.”

So just like that it was done. Vachelle produced paper files on all Vulcan's closest associates, which were all females. I knew right away it was going to be devilish (bad word) to untangle similar motives. But at least we were ready to proceed. We thanked her and departed.

“You knew we'd face seduction,” I said back in Nonce's car as we rode back to her apartment. “That's why you tackled me on the way.”

“I suspected. Vampires have a reputation.”

“So do Witches. Is it okay with you if we focus on business now?”

She laughed. “We now have three sets of suspects. It's probably best to tackle them one Clan at a time. Where do we start?”

“With yours?”

“There's still time in the day. I can take us to the brother and sister.”

But at that point I realized that I had had enough for one day. “Let's wait until tomorrow. I need to sleep on what I have.”

“At my place or your place?”

To spend the night in her embrace. I yielded to temptation. “Your place.”

“Done.” The car changed direction.

Chapter 5:

Searching

I woke beside Nonce, holding her hand, after a night that had delightfully worn me out. She remained asleep. I paused to look at her, curious about how much illusion contributed to her appearance.

She was mussed but lovely, with only a tiny mole on her chin. She really was beautiful! That reassured me. She was older than I, probably by five or six years, but Witches were as ageless as they wanted to be.

Then she stirred. Her eyes opened. “Hello, beloved,” she said. The mole disappeared.

“Hello, beloved,” I echoed, and kissed her.

No more was needed. We got up, showered together, and dressed. She served a nice breakfast whose details I hardly noticed, being too absorbed in loving her.

Somewhere along the way it occurred to me that she might not really have been asleep. She might have been trying to reassure me about her natural appearance, putting on just enough of a blemish to be persuasive. Did it matter? I realized that it didn't. She was what she was, and I loved her regardless. How much was natural and how much magical I couldn't be sure, but I was committed. For the nonce, I thought with a mental smile. She was a creature of the present, as her name suggested.

Her car took us to my office. Syd was already there. “Did you have a good night?” she asked brightly.

“It was divine,” Nonce answered. “He's a great lover.”

That saved me from having to answer on that score. Syd of course wasn't fooled; she knew that the experienced Witch held amateur me in thrall. She didn't object, which meant she had checked out the Witch and found her sufficient. “She gave me a grief-null spell. We got suspects,” I said. “Witch and Vamp.”

“And we know who the Were suspects are,” Syd said. “Beginning with me.”

“I know you didn't do it,” I said quickly. “You were here in the office with me when it happened.

“I could have hired someone to do it.”

I spread my hands. “I'm a suspect too.”

“Not any more,” Nonce said.

Syd glanced at her. “So it was more than idle fancy that motivated you to get into his mind.”

“Considerably more,” Nonce agreed. “We have cleared each other.”

“Clear me,” Syd said to me.

“There's no need.”

“There
is
need. You have not read my mind since the murder. Bear and I could have had a falling out.”

I nodded regretfully. She had evidently gotten her grief under control overnight, and was now focused on vengeance. Nonce and I sat down to watch.

Syd pulled the shutters on the front window and door, then doffed her clothes. She made her hissing Name and started shifting. I read her mind the moment she invoked her power: she was innocent and hurting. She truly loved Bear.

“That's something,” the Witch murmured. “I've never seen a Were shift before.”

“We're in this together,” Syd said. “We have to trust each other.”

Soon she was the complete serpent. “She has dog doors to the office and storage closet,” I said. “Actually round holes, concealed by curtains. So if she forgets the key, she can still get in and out.”

“Nice touch.”

I got up and talked to the huge snake. I lifted her mid section and she coiled around my body, including my neck. “She's not smart in this form, but she knows me,” I said. “We trust each other. And she is innocent.”

“I never doubted.”

Syd slid off me and changed slowly back to human form. Nonce helped her dress. “A necessary formality,” the Witch said.

“Now we have an appointment to meet the Were Chief,” Syd said as she tucked herself together.

We rode in Nonce's nice car to the nondescript suburban house where Jim the Were Chief lived. All Supes tried to be anonymous except to other Supes. He was a tiger: a huge man, small tiger, committed and sharp.

“You know Phil and me,” Syd said as we shook hands. “This is Nonce Witch. She hired Phil to investigate the murder of her Warlock cousin. She and Phil have become an item.”

“Witches can be fun,” Jim agreed. “When they want to be.”

“So can Weres,” Nonce said a trifle sharply.

Jim smiled tolerantly; he had surely known a Witch or two in his day. “Make your case.”

“We believe that my friend Bear was murdered,” I said. “And that it may be linked to the Warlock case. And to a Vampire case. A serial killer of Supes.”

“An inter-Clan matter,” Jim agreed. “We will cooperate, of course. Just let us know what you need.”

“Just your approval,” I said. “We are well aware of Bear's contacts, and will interview them. If any balk—”

“None will,” Jim said. That sufficed.

“Thank you,” Nonce said, and kissed him on the cheek. He liked that; he had to. But his decision had been made, for Supe solidarity, not to please her.

Back in the car we organized. “I will mind the office,” Syd said. “I will prepare a list of Bear's contacts.”

“Meanwhile we'll tackle the Witches,” Nonce said.

We left Syd at the office, and moved on to Nonce's residence, and considered the main Witch suspect: the client seeking the reality room. I had not had time to ferret that out when I was in the Warlock's office, but now it was no problem: Nonce knew it. He was a wealthy Goblin named Burket. Goblins were squat, ugly, ill-tempered, and generally hard to get along with, but they could tolerate extreme heat and pressure underground, were not claustrophobic, and could ferret out gold, gems, and whatever other valuables were hidden there. So Burket's riches were no coincidence; they were typical of the Clan. Goblins normally bought what they wanted, including especially the favors of nymphly ladies. Money made up for ugliness.

“But he didn't do it,” Nonce said.

“How can you be sure?”

“That project was invaluable to him. The death of Standish puts it out of reach, until he finds and hires a new Warlock at great expense. He would never do that. Goblins are rich, but they don't waste money.”

BOOK: WereWoman
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