Long Shadows: The Lycanthropy Files, Book 2 (13 page)

“I really don’t mean to impose,” I said one last time.

“Oh, honey, you’re not.”

She left and I shook my head. I suspected her invitation was as much out of curiosity as compassion, but I also didn’t relish the task of spending an evening at the house alone with one ear out for unwanted guests. Not that he’d likely appear after his lunchtime vanishing act, which had been odd. As for whether I would make it to my doctor’s appointment, that remained to be seen. The half gallon of milk in my trunk said probably not since it would take me longer than two days to finish it. Plus, I now had clues about my aunt to follow up here.

Claire, her husband Ray, and their toddler Daniel lived in a two-story brick house in a subdivision that looked like it was trying really hard not to resemble a mountain cabin community. After driving through winding roads with cabins and not-too-big houses with names like “Moon Chalet,” the neighborhood seemed out of place, maybe even a little too normal. Even the little motto on the gate had an ominous Hotel California ring to it:
“For Those Who Stay.”

Instead of pulling into the driveway, I parked my car on the street, and, keeping my keys in my pocket, locked my purse in the trunk. Ray met me at the door with a brown cocktail in one hand. He wore a blue polo shirt, khakis and loafer-like leather slippers.

“You must be Lonna,” he said, his tone neither welcoming nor unwelcoming. “Claire is just putting Daniel to bed. Come on in, and I’ll get you a drink.”

My skin raised in goose bumps when I crossed the threshold. The lights in the house were on, but it was overall dark with wood-paneled walls and furniture in iron with jewel-toned cushions. Everything had sharp angles and harsh edges the pillows did nothing to ease.

Ray tapped me on the shoulder. I had been aware of him asking something, but I was so busy trying to figure out what was wrong with the house that I hadn’t processed it.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked. “I’ve got a full bar, or I can open some wine.”

“Just some water, thanks.” My instincts—my human ones—were telling me to stay alert.

“How old is Daniel?” I asked when Ray brought me a glass of water and ice. I sipped it, testing for any strange tastes or after-tastes. There were none.

“He’s fifteen months.” He smiled, but only with his mouth.

“That’s a cute age.”

“It can be.”

“So what do you do?”

He shrugged. “This and that. Mostly I’m an architect, and I take hunting parties out on the weekend.” Something beeped in the kitchen, and he stood. “Excuse me. I need to check on that.”

Claire appeared just as he walked out. “Phew, finally got him down. Lonna, I’m glad you could make it!”

“Thanks for the invite.”
I think.

“You’re welcome.” She gestured for me to sit. “So tell me about Little Rock. I’ve never been.”

We chitchatted until Ray announced dinner was ready. I followed Claire into the dining room, where the table had been set with three places. The room’s color scheme made me wonder if I was in some Transylvanian castle with red walls and the dark wood furniture, which had the same sharp angles and corners as the cast iron stuff in the living room.

Ray brought in a roast that smelled of garlic, rosemary, and something else that was very familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Claire fetched some potatoes and green salad, and Ray poured a California cabernet into our glasses. I stopped him at a half-glass, which wouldn’t be enough to affect me, especially when sipped with food. It was all beautiful and perfect, too much so.

Finally what had been bothering me came to the front of my brain.
Where is the high chair? The baby toys? This house is too neat and sharp and pointy to have a toddler in it. I had better get the information I came for about my aunt, and fast.

“So your mother knew my Aunt Alicia?” I asked Claire.

She paled a couple of shades. I had referred to the conversation she’d had with the other woman, not with me.
Whoops, too direct.

“I’m sorry, I overheard you at the store.”

She exchanged a glance with her husband, who shrugged as if to say, “Might as well.”

“Yes,” she said. “They were on the original Forest Preservation Board together, but I don’t think they were close.”

“I wasn’t very close with my aunt, either,” I said, “although I wish I had been.” I once again imagined throwing out the lines and trying to hook a conversational fish. “I guess it’s too late for that now, though.”

“It’s hard to lose a loved one,” Claire said. “Did you know much about her and what she was doing up here? I understand your family’s not from Georgia originally.”

“No, they’re from Italy by way of Boston, which is where my mother and aunt were raised. I grew up in Birmingham. But that’s the boring part.”

“What’s the interesting part?” asked Ray.

“That my aunt never married or anything. She and my mother were both attractive as young women. Did she ever date anyone up here?”

Claire frowned. “There was one young man, another Italian, who came and stayed with her for a summer in the mid-eighties. I was still young, but it was the talk of the town how handsome he was. They said he was here as some sort of exchange program to intern for the FPB.”

My heart started beating harder. “What was his name?”

“John something-or-other,” she said. “If you’re really interested, the FPB has scrapbooks going back to the seventies, one for each year. Their office is downtown near City Hall.”

“Thanks, I’ll check it out. The only other thing I really remember about my aunt is that she loved large dogs. I was kind of relieved not to inherit one.”

“There were stories…” Claire said, but Ray put his hand on hers.

“Who wants dessert?” he asked.

“I’ll help,” Claire said. “Excuse me for a moment.”

I took a big gulp of water. My heart thudded in my chest, and my hands tingled.
What’s wrong with me?
Then I recognized why the smell and sensations were so familiar—there was aconite in the meat. Venison itself had a strong flavor, and added with the rosemary and garlic, it had almost covered it.
They’re trying to poison me. What the hell…

I stood and moved as quietly as I could toward the kitchen.

“It should be working right now,” Ray said. He spoke quietly, and it was hard to make out over the clanking of dishes. “I dosed her serving up pretty good.”

“They said not to damage her brain,” Claire hissed. “What if you put too much in there?”

“It was perfectly dosed for her height and weight, at least the estimates you gave me.”

I remembered the hug in the parking lot. It wasn’t sincere at all—she was checking my waist size under my sweatshirt.
Bitch.

“And they’re sure she won’t change?”

“They said she couldn’t. She’d blocked herself, and they gave her something to make sure she stayed that way.”

The sensations of my muscles pulling back from my skin started, and I gritted my teeth. It would have been one thing if I’d been able to change right then—I was angry enough I could have ripped both their throats out, especially since I’d figured out there was no Daniel—but I was defenseless. Being trapped in a body unable to move wouldn’t help my escape.
 

Damn you, whoever cut me off from my wolf self!
The need to get away warred with wanting to find out who they were working for and who wanted me dead and apparently de-brained. The first desire won. In my current state, I wouldn’t be able to handle them both, and Claire was stronger than she looked judging from the squeeze she’d given me. That bitch must have known talking about my aunt would attract my attention, and I’d fallen oh-so-easily into her trap.

“I’m going to check on her,” Claire said.

I made it back to my seat and was swirling my wine when she came out of the kitchen.
Time to play on their fears. If I bolt, they’ll catch me.

“This is good,” I said, ignoring the strange yellow-green tint my vision had taken on. “Paired perfectly with the meat.”

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re looking a little pale.”

“It’s just the fatigue of the week,” I assured her. “It’s been emotionally intense.”

“Deaths in the family are always hard, especially when you have to make the arrangements by yourself.”

I nodded. “I should really be going. Thanks for everything.”

Ray appeared at the door to the kitchen, his expression anything but friendly. “You should stay for a bit,” he said. “You’re not looking well.”

“Oh, I’m fine. I actually have someone to meet later, and I need to… change.” I bared my teeth a little on the last word before clamping my lips shut and capturing my top lip between my teeth. They glanced at each other.

“Are you sure?” asked Claire, moving closer to Ray.

“Yes, positive.” I swept my long hair off my shoulder with my right hand and curled my fingers to suggest the shape of a paw, then straightened and looked at them. “I really need to go.”

Ray and Claire huddled in the kitchen door. He had his arms protectively around her. Upstairs a baby cried. The color really drained out of Claire’s face then.

Huh, so there really is a kid.

I hated to do it, but I turned slowly toward the sound, listened, and turned back to them, licking my lips. “I should really go,” I said again. “Thanks for everything. It was…” I glanced back toward the sound. “Delicious.”

Ray started toward me, his hands out to snatch me, and I bared my teeth. Claire grabbed him back.

“I really suggest you don’t threaten me,” I said. “I would like to remind you that I’m between you and your offspring, and I can move faster than you can.” I licked my lips again and thought Wolf-Lonna scrabbled in my brain.

The tingling had spread to my legs, so it wasn’t hard to move backwards slowly and menacingly. The front door was to my right just outside of the dining room.

“She’s going to get away,” Ray snarled.

Claire kept her firm hold on him. “The baby. She might change and eat him.”

“She can’t change! They told us she can’t.”

“She’s acting like she can. They said she’s one of a kind.”

I threw the door open and stumbled out into the night, down the driveway, and into my car. I didn’t look back to see who’d won the argument and if someone had followed me until I made it out to the main road. My stomach heaved, and I steered the car into a pull-off and opened the door to, well, get rid of the undigested aconite and venison, which I’d decided I didn’t like so much after all.

My heart beat in my throat with each car that drove by, and after panting in the seat for a few minutes, the aconite sensations subsided. The inside of the car and other objects no longer had the yellow-green tint when I looked at them, and the tingling and heart racing resolved.
Here’s to building up a tolerance to the stuff. But what if they had used something else? I’d be very dead.

Aware my body’s reflexes may not be what they should be, I drove below the speed limit. Occasionally headlights appeared in the rearview mirror, but none stayed behind me for long until I got to the ridge where my aunt’s house was. A car pulled out of a driveway, and I couldn’t tell much about it due to the lack of street lights, but it stayed behind me turn for turn.

Someone was waiting. They knew I’d run back here. That was dumb. Oh shit, oh shit…
Nerves dried my mouth out even more than the aconite after-effects, and my mind wouldn’t work properly.
Run home, run home, run home!

What kind of security system does my aunt have? Will it be enough to stop someone who really wants to get in? What about magical defenses?

Magical defenses? Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t know a magical defense if it bit me in the ass. And, of course, my gun is in my bedroom, not in my car.

I decided to make a run for it. I parked the car as close to the house as I could, snatched my keys out of the ignition, opened the door, and promptly fell to my knees because my legs gave out. Apparently adrenaline had kept the aconite effects at bay, but now I was somewhere safe, the numbness and tingling returned.

The other car pulled up right behind mine. The door opened, and the beam of a flashlight landed on me. I held a hand over my face, but it didn’t help me identify who it was. All I could see was a leather-gloved hand reaching for me. I jerked back, my head hit the side of the car, and grey flowers bloomed across my vision before everything went black.

The nightmare returned.

I’m strapped to a gurney in a cave, and there’s a needle in my arm. The plastic tube connects it to a bag hanging overhead. I can’t move. A man, his eyes hidden behind smoky glasses, his face behind a medical mask, measures something from a small red vial into another syringe and injects it into a port in the tube. The red liquid snakes down the tube, and all I can do is watch, wide-eyed, as it hurtles toward my arm. It feels like a bite that spreads through my veins to my muscles and bones, every nerve burning and twitching, like the entire web is alive and its own entity trying to form me into something I’m not. It squeezes and pulls and pushes my body in directions it’s not supposed to go, and through it all, I scream and scream and scream…