Touch of Darkness, page 20
part #3 of The Thrall Series
"Nah. Go. I'll be fine." I shoved him off of the bed with both hands so I could climb from beneath the covers.
"You're sure?"
"Positive." I rose to my feet, grateful that I was decently covered in a baggy old pair of gray sweatpants and matching tee-shirt. Since I've been living with Tom I've spent most nights sleeping in lingerie or the nude. He prefers it. But since Bryan had decided to stay over, I'd gone for modesty. I was glad now. I could run down the hall to the bathroom without flashing him.
"All right. I'll go. But call if you need me." He was talking to me through the closed bathroom door.
"I will."
I don't think he believed me, but he left anyway.
I finished my business and washed my hands. I started a bath running. Considering the size of the tub, it was probably going to take a while to fill. That was fine with me. I wanted to get some coffee started. Bryan, God love him, had given me a house-warming present last night—a coffeemaker. Joe and Mary's contribution had been a set of dishes for eight. Ruby provided pots and pans. It had all been part of the stuff Joe and Bryan had brought over last night. The luggage was in the bedroom. Everything else was in the garage, waiting for me to unpack.
Thinking about it made me smile. I have friends. The kind of friends who come through for you in a pinch. For a long time after Amanda betrayed me with Dylan I hadn't trusted anyone enough to let them close. I mean, when your fiancé cheats with your best friend it kind of makes you doubt your taste in relationships. Oh, Michael had been around, but he'd been around forever. Peg had broken through, but other than that, I really hadn't let myself go. But over the past couple of years things had changed. I'd started socializing again. Loving Tom had given me the courage to let others into my life as well, people like Brooks, Mary, Dusty and Rob, even Ruby.
And despite Dylan's threats, I didn't think they were going anywhere. For one thing most of them are just too damned stubborn. They've seen me through "battle conditions" before. They wouldn't abandon me. As to whether he could kill them— well, most all of them are pretty damned tough, particularly when they're on their guard. I'd warn them all, of course. But I doubted they'd back down, or change much of how they handled their lives.
I wandered into the kitchen and retrieved the coffee can from the pantry. It was only when I'd opened the bin to the coffeemaker that I realized why Bryan hadn't started a pot brewing. No filters. Crap.
It was still dark outside, dammit. I needed caffeine, and I wanted it steaming hot in my very own kitchen. There had to be something I could use. Think, Reilly. Think.
I glanced around. My eyes lit up at the sight of salvation. Paper towels. Perfect. Well, not perfect, but good enough, by God. I might get a few grounds in my cup, but I'm tough. I can handle it.
Just the aroma of the ground coffee made me feel more alert. Pavlovian probably, but who cares? I sure didn't. I set up the machine to make a full six cups, hit the button, and went back to the bedroom to pick out clothes for the day.
I started rifling through the dressier clothes from the suitcase, mainly because I expected to be meeting with the insurance adjuster and running other important errands. Theoretically it should not make a damned bit of difference how you're dressed under these kinds of circumstances, but the fact is that you are judged by your appearance every time you step out the door. Women are judged more harshly than men, too, or at least differently. I needed to look businesslike, competent, but nonthreatening enough that nobody would be defensive right out of the box. That meant no leather, which was really okay since my most recent purchases were still in the evidence locker at the police station in Beaver Falls. The brown suit Joe had bought me was still dirty and wrinkled, so that was out. I hated the idea of wearing my good coral suit, but it was still clean and reasonably unwrinkled. I hadn't wound up using it on the Vegas trip. Of course it didn't offer much opportunity for weapons concealment—once I got weapons—which I really needed to do. Sooner rather than later.
So coral it was, with a cream colored silk blouse and, ugh, hose and the matching heels. Here's hoping I didn't have to do any running, or even much walking.
I carried the clothes into the bathroom with me and hung them up by hooking the hanger necks over the handle of the linen cabinet. If I was lucky the steam would get rid of the last of the wrinkles. If not, too bad. I didn't have an iron yet.
The tub was just about ready, and the temperature was perfect, hot enough to relax me but not so toasty as to leave me parboiled. I had my coffee. There was only one more thing I needed before I could strip and sink gratefully into my bath. The cell phone. Because I knew that just as soon as I was naked, wet, and relaxed the damned thing would ring. Not psychic premonition. Just experience. Lots and lots of past experience.
True to form, I had just started shampooing when it rang. I ducked underwater long enough to rinse out the worst of the bubbles before grabbing the phone from off of the toilet lid. "Good morning, gorgeous," I sang. It was Tom. Had to be. Only he would have the courage to call me this early in the morning.
"Good morning yourself. How was your first night in the house?"
"It would've been better with you here," I answered forthrightly. "But Blank and I managed. Bryan stayed over. He had an early shift at work."
"Sounds like you didn't miss me at all."
"Oh, I missed you." I made my voice a sexy purr. "As soon as you get back home I'll prove it."
"Promises, promises," he teased.
"Are you alone? Would you like a little phone sex?" I made the offer. I'm a little shy, and still somewhat awkward at it, but I discovered that playing along sometimes keeps things very, very hot between the two of us. I guess it's all that anticipation. I might blush purple and squirm with embarrassment at some of the things he says, but it gets under my skin. And I just can't stop thinking about it. Apparently neither can he, because the times that we've talked dirty he's come back from his shift rarin' to go.
"No to the first, which means no to the second."
"Aw, damn." I was actually disappointed.
He laughed, and it was as thick and rich as chocolate. "I love you, Katie."
"I love you too."
"So, is there any news?" he asked.
I had to think for a minute. An awful lot had happened in a really short period of time. I wasn't even sure where to begin. I did know one thing for a fact. I was not going to tell him about Janine stalking me, Dylan or the threats he'd made, or even the vision of the werewolf I'd had this morning. Those bits of bad news were all going to wait until he was off duty. His job regularly puts him in life-and-death situations. I so didn't want him going into one of them distracted. The disasters could wait. Good news, however, was fair game. I could share it all in good conscience and did. I started with the insurance check, then moved on to the luggage being returned, our stuff being moved for us by my brothers, and Joe's second interview.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Damn, he's a suspicious man.
"Katie—" his voice carried a very real warning. Tom has a thing about my keeping secrets from him. He thinks I shut him out of the dangerous parts of my life. I don't, not anymore. I learned my lesson after I almost lost him. But timing is everything and now was so not the time to tell him some of this stuff.
"All right, there are some things that aren't great news too, but they can wait until you're off shift."
"I don't like that."
"Let's just say you'd better come home prepared for company."
"Why?"
"Elaine Johnston is going to be staying with us, at least until the end of the Conclave." It was actually the least of the bad news, but I was crossing my fingers that it would be enough to sidetrack him from asking more questions.
"Oh, fucking goodie."
I let out a harsh bark of laughter. I couldn't help it. He'd summed up my feelings on the matter to absolute perfection. "That's kind of how I felt."
"This has something to do with Janine, doesn't it?"
Damn. There are times when I really wish he wasn't as bright as he is good looking. This was definitely one of them. Thinking on my feet, I managed to answer his question with one of my own. Oddly enough, I even wanted the answer. It might even be important.
"Tom, did Janine follow you out here from Vegas before or after all the publicity with Samantha?" Tom had been around for my original confrontation with Monica Mica, in fact it was when we'd first started dating. But while there'd been plenty of publicity at the time, none of it had mentioned him. He'd managed to stay under the radar quite a lot longer than I had.
"Before. It's one of the reasons the pack was pushing me to dump you. She was agitating even then."
"But how did she find you? I mean, you knew she was unstable. I assume you didn't just leave a forwarding address."
There was a long, intense silence. When he answered it was very quietly. "No. I didn't. And no one I know would've told her."
"Would someone in the Denver pack—" He interrupted me before I could finish the sentence.
"Not a chance. They all knew it had ended badly, and she has a reputation for being … difficult. Nobody wanted that kind of a diplomatic mess."
"So how'd she find out?"
"That's a damned good question. I've chewed on that for a long time."
I knew he'd be thinking about it for the next two days, too. It was the kind of puzzle that would worry at your mind when there was nothing else to occupy you. But I knew he'd be able to set it aside to do his duty.
"Is that everything?" Persistent little devil. Dammit.
"No, it isn't," I snapped irritably. He was pushing. He knows how much I hate that and he was doing it anyway.
"Well?"
"Tell you what. I'll show you mine if you show me yours." I didn't mean for it to sound as bitchy as it came out.
His voice dropped almost an octave, and took on a dangerous edge. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that you've been keeping things from me too. 'For my own good' no doubt."
I heard him inhale sharply. I'd hit a nerve. But he kept his cool enough to act innocent. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Bullshit. My mind brushed his, and I saw clearly a lot of the things he'd hidden. Some of them were incredibly important, and it pissed me off. I couldn't help myself. I just started spouting words, not even sure where they were going until they reached air.
"Really? Are you saying you just forgot to tell me that the werewolf you fought at the cemetery wasn't a rogue working with the vampires—that it smelled, and tasted, like a vampire, and that a good third of the bites on my brother and the priest who died didn't come from human mouths, and that they showed signs of having had blood sucked through them anyway?"
Silence stretched for long moments on the other end of the line. I knew he was still there. I could hear his harsh breathing. I let it drag on for a bit, mainly because I really was angry now. Maybe I could have found out more from my dreams if I'd known what to look for.
He sighed, but didn't answer.
"Fine." I tried not to sound bitter and failed. "We can talk about it when you get off shift. Along with everything else. But know this, if I have to tell you everything the reverse is true too."
"I suppose." His enthusiasm was underwhelming. In fact, he sounded just a teeny bit bitter, which meant it was probably time to change the subject. Because ultimately I didn't want to cause a real fight. "Before I forget. Thursday night we're having dinner with Brooks and his wife to sign the lease. I was thinking maybe we'd fix steaks. There's a brick barbeque pit in the back yard."
"Sounds great." It sounded flat and cold, even though I knew he meant it. But he wasn't quite ready to let go of the previous conversation. He sighed again, and this time the sound was more sad than martyred. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about that stuff. I should've. I've gotta go now, but we really will talk when I get off shift. I love you, Katie."
"I love you too. I'll keep the bed warm for you." If he could bend, so could I. I'm proud, but I'm not stupid. I love him. I want the relationship to work. That means sometimes one, or both, of us is going to have to swallow our pride a little and compromise.
"Do that." I could sense his gratitude. It was warm and gentle as a blanket against my psychic senses. It made me a lot more hopeful about the conversation we'd be having in a couple of days.
I finished getting ready and was on my way out the door by 8:30. Before I left I took my cell phone off of the charger and called Mary. I knew she'd taken the whole week off to get ready for the Conclave. I was hoping she hadn't already left for the convention center because I didn't have her cell number programmed into my phone yet.
"What do you need now, Katie?" She sounded tired and stressed. I knew she'd be glad when the meetings were over and life could get back to normal. I was pretty sure everyone who'd had to deal with her the past few weeks felt the same way. But even I have enough sense not to say something like that out loud.
"I'm headed out to take care of a bunch of errands and I wanted to know if you have a time for Elaine's flight? I want to make sure I'm home by the time she gets here."
"Hang on. Let me look it up." I heard her rummaging around for a minute in the background. "It arrives at 7:00 p.m., on United. She's taking a cab, so we won't have to meet her at the airport."
"Oh good. That should give me plenty of time."
"What all are you planning on doing?"
I gave her a quick rundown of my list. She laughed. "Your day sounds almost as bad as mine. I bet you won't manage even half that."
"Probably not," I admitted. "And while I'm out, is there anything you need me to help with?" Say no. Please say no.
"Not today. Go run your errands. But if I don't make some real progress I may be asking you for help tomorrow."
"In that case I won't schedule anything."
"Thanks."
I hung up and slid the phone into my jacket pocket before heading out the door. I was looking good, feeling sharp as I hurried down the street to the bus stop. Mary's words had motivated me. The best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't, that it's impossible. Not that I'm contrary or anything.
I plopped myself onto the wooden bus bench and pulled out my phone. I might as well make calls and schedule as many appointments as I could manage while I waited. Yeah, strangers might overhear. I could live with that.
My first call was to my insurance agent. He transferred me to the adjuster handling my claim. Ralph Hendrix was not a happy man. Part of it was personal. His daughter was currently enrolled in a vampire halfway house. Too, I was costing his company money. A lot of money. He hated it and would've taken it out on me if he hadn't suspected (correctly) that I'd report him to his superiors if he behaved as anything less than a professional. I wished I'd had a chance to talk to him when Tom was with me. He was enough of a chauvinist to at least hide his emotions when a man was present. But Tom had to work. So I was going to handle it alone. And professional self-preservation wasn't quite enough to keep the hostile tone from his voice when he explained that they were considering the building a total loss. They'd already cut the check for the bank and sent it to them, so the loan was paid off. I could pick up my checks for the contents and the remainder on the building itself. But had I chosen someone to do the cleanup and demolition? Or, if I wasn't planning to rebuild, he'd been contacted by a couple of different developers who were interested in the property and would include clearing the lot as part of the package. Had I considered that option?
I hadn't, but I told him I would.
Did I want to sell, or rebuild? Land in lower downtown is at a premium. I would get a great price. I could pay off all the debt I'd incurred and probably still have more than enough to buy the house and replace my vehicle. It would give me a fresh start. I'm not a builder. I'm more a handyman. Give me the basics and I can do maintenance and improvements, but building something from scratch? I'd have to hire that out. I've heard more than a few horror stories about that sort of thing over the years. And then there's all the bureaucratic red tape that I'd have to wade through. Could I even afford it? And more than one developer had already expressed an interest in buying. That was a good sign. But did I really want to give it up?
There was only one way to be sure. I needed to actually see the ruins for myself. I'd managed to avoid it yesterday, but it was time. And if seeing Our Lady of Perpetual Hope Church in ruins had been hard I knew that facing this would be downright hellish. I'd poured so much of myself into the renovations. It had taken years of literal blood, sweat, and tears.
Damn Dylan anyway.
I climbed onto the bus that would take me downtown along with a couple of commuters dressed for a day at the office. Taking an empty seat near the back, I thought about everything that had happened to me recently. How much of it had been manufactured by the Thrall? The attack at the airport was obvious; and we had proof about the building collapse and the church. Bryan's injuries had definitely been Thrall-induced, although frankly, that could've been the result of his spying more than an attack on me. Someone had let Janine know where Tom was. It would have been a perfect way to unbalance my relationship. In fact, it had almost succeeded. Had that been a "gift" from Dylan as well? How long had he been planning his revenge? When did his heart turn from love to hate? There was no way of knowing. But I wouldn't have put any of this past him, thinking back.
The blocks rolled by. The bus was getting more and more crowded. Pairs of people were sharing nearly every seat, but nobody made any move to sit next to me. I suppose I probably looked forbidding. I was certainly getting more and more angry. As we drove past the stop that would have led me to Our Lady Church I found myself grinding my teeth, my fists clenched in impotent fury. It took a real effort to relax my jaw muscles, to fight down my rage. He wanted me angry—too angry to think, so that I would react, play right into whatever plans it was he'd made. I would not give him that satisfaction. I was better than that. I had to be. But oh, God it was hard.
