Quick Fix (12 page)

True enough. She was a trashy wannabe rock star out to sleep her way into Brian’s band. Still, it was the principle of the thing.

“Have you been tested for STDs lately?” Thomas asked, ever-practical.

Brian nodded, a goofy smile on his face. “Yeah. Suze made me. Seriously, you guys are gonna love her—she’s the best.”

*   *   *

Suze was at least ten years older than Brian. And she looked like a bookkeeper.

Strike that. She
dressed
like a bookkeeper. Who knew what lay hidden behind her Marian-the-Librarian glasses, her brown hair in a bun, her up-to-the-neck, down-to-the-knees dress? Perhaps the seething passion of a closet rock-and-roll groupie. Was there a tatt or two under all that starch? Why else would she be interested in my brother? Or, more precisely, he in her?

“Thomas, Ciel—this is Suze. Susan Hatcher. Suze—my brother, Thomas, and my sister, Ciel.” Pretty formal intro for Brian. Usually, if he bothered to introduce a girl at all, he made do with a casual “that’s so-and-so” and a wave in her general direction. My sisterly antennae rose another notch.

“Hi.” Suze did the shy-Di glance-away thing, and pushed her glasses back up her nose. The lenses didn’t appear to be very strong, so I suspected they were more to hide behind than for vision enhancement.

I eyed the youngest of my brothers (he was only a year older than me), wondering what in the heck he had going on this time. Brian went through a lot of girlfriends, none bashful. Or modest dressers.

Thomas didn’t seem to find anything amiss. He nodded pleasantly and said, “Nice to meet you, Susan.”

“Likewise,” I said, and stuck out my hand. After a slight hesitation, she took it. A little on the limp side, but not to the wet-noodle extreme. Reflexively, I snatched a bit of her energy before I released her. Couldn’t think of a reason I’d ever need her aura, but you never know.

“Suze is brilliant.” Brian beamed at her.
That
look I was familiar with—he beamed at girls all the time. “She’s already figured out a way for the band to turn a profit.”

“Well, now. That
is
impressive,” Thomas said, and cut me a sharp glance. He wasn’t full of rapturous approval for the way I handled my business expenses, and never missed a chance to let me know it. I crossed my eyes at him really fast so Susan wouldn’t notice. Not that she would, since she was too busy staring at her sensible, low-heeled pumps. Wait—was that a snake I saw tattooed around her ankle? Hmm.

“I didn’t do anything special. I just drew up a few simple contracts and then made sure to collect partial payment in advance for the performances,” she said, and cleared her throat.

While Thomas beamed at her along with Brian, I squatted and pretended to tie my shoe so I could get a closer look at the tatt. It
was
a snake, its mouth latched onto its tail, with the rattle on the end sticking out between its fangs. I
knew
it. More than your everyday, run-of-the-mill bookkeeper was our Ms. Hatcher. If that was the kind of body art she had on a readily visible patch of skin, no telling what she had going on where it didn’t show.

As I stood, I casually checked her ears. Sure enough, alongside her conservative pearl studs were several empty holes. Might she have body jewelry in other, odder places? I shuddered. My needle phobia had prevented me from even a single piercing in each lobe. If I had to wear earrings, I adapted myself lobe holes.

So, either Suze had an interesting past she was trying to put behind her, or else she was currently playing dress-up for my brother. Not that it was any of my business. Not that not being my business has ever stopped me from being nosy. But curious as I was, this brother’s love life would have to get in line behind a few other pressing issues, like Molly the ape, Billy on the lam, James’s sexuality surprise, and Thomas’s history with Laura. And, of course, most important: who shot Laura?

Suze excused herself after we declined her offer of refreshments. “I have to change before my night job.” Huh. More bookkeeping? My, she was ambitious.

After she left the room, Thomas turned to Brian. “You haven’t forgotten, have you? It’s on your calendar?”

Brian’s face fell. “Yeah. I’ll be there,” he said with a heartfelt sigh. “I just wish I could bring a date. Hey, you don’t suppose—”

Thomas squashed his idea before it could get past the embryonic phase. “Don’t even think about it. Mom would kill you.”

Thomas was right. Nonadaptors were strictly
verboten
at the party, unless they were family members, like James. It was one of the few large social gatherings every year where our kind could relax and let their hair down without fear of being discovered. It was ingrained in all of us from birth not to jeopardize it.

“But Suze is special,” Brian said. I’d seen that earnest look on his face a gazillion times before, and so had Thomas.

“You haven’t told her, have you?” Thomas said, leaking a little Metatron into his words.

“God, no. Of course not!”

I believed him, and I could tell Thomas did, too.

“Good. See that you don’t. And come early this year. It won’t kill you to spend a little more time with the family.”

Suze took that moment to reenter the room, and pretty much stopped the conversation in its tracks. Seeing Marian the Librarian turn into a flashback of Madonna’s conical-metal-bra tour will do that.
This
was no bookkeeper—the cougar comes out to play—and now I could see why Brian went for her. The transformation was so startling I had to look closely to make sure she wasn’t an adaptor. Brian did not look remotely surprised to see her that way.

“What the hell happened to you?” I blurted, and then blushed. The ol’ blurt-n-blush is one of my standbys, and never fails to elicit a disapproving look from Thomas.

I shrugged and gestured toward Suze. “What? Look at her!”

Suze laughed, a low, smoky sound that almost gave
me
a sexual tingle. I could only imagine the effect it had on men. Profound, judging by the looks on both my brothers’ faces.

“It’s for my night job. Bookkeeping doesn’t pay as well as you might think.” She lowered one eyelid at me, slowly. I goggled back at her.

“What’s your night job? Dominatrix?” Oops. There went the ol’ B & B again.

“Ciel!” Thomas glowered at me.

“Uh, sorry.” I tried to look sheepish. “But seriously, isn’t that look a little passé?”

Brian just laughed. Thank God one of my brothers has a sense of humor. “That’s the point. It’s retro-irony. Suze fronts a girl band downtown a couple nights a week. It’s where we met.” He gazed at her adoringly, every bit as smitten with this version of her as he was with the other.

Suze, equally smitten, gazed adoringly back at him. “Brian’s band is so much better than mine—”

“No way! You draw much bigger crowds than we do.”

“Only because of the way we dress. If you listen to our recordings, we suck.”

Okay, so she was a modest hard rocker.

“You just haven’t found the right mix yet. I told you I’d help with that—”

Thomas cleared his throat. “Brian? Can I have a word, please?” He led Brian toward the kitchen, out of earshot, leaving me and my big mouth standing there stupidly, trying not to stare at Torpedo Tits. Geez, if you hugged her, you’d be impaled.

“Well,” she said.

“Well,” I responded.

“Um, Brian has told me what a great family he has. It’s nice to meet some of you.” A bit of her earlier shyness was creeping back in. Guess the clothes could only carry you so far.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, too. Brian has said…” I paused, at a loss. Brian hadn’t said a thing about her to any of us, as far as I knew. “Listen, can I be honest? You’re kind of a surprise.”

She smiled, big and wide. Was that a diamond I saw in one of her front teeth? Had that been there before? Maybe she just pasted it on for her act. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“So, how long have you and Brian been, um, together?”

“Officially? Six and a half days. But we’ve known each other for almost two weeks.”

Oh. Well, crack open the champagne.

“That’s great,” I said, easing toward the kitchen and trying to catch Thomas’s attention. We needed to get back to Mark, find out where Billy went, swing by the hospital to see how Laura was doing, and get a progress report about Molly from James. Much too busy to stand around blabbing with Brian’s latest. Besides, I don’t like to get attached to any of his girlfriends—it’s too hard to remember the names.

Thomas came out of the kitchen, leading a skeptical-looking Brian by one arm.

“Is it true?” Brian asked me.

“Is what true?”

Thomas gave him a warning look.

“That our youngest cousin is now”—he glanced quickly at Suze and then back at me—“a redhead?”

“Yeah. It’s true,” I said.

“Isn’t she a little young to”—another glance at Suze, who was looking puzzled—“dye her hair?”

I shrugged. “Well, you know Molls. She’s always been precocious.”

“Mo’s going to freak,” he said, and burst out laughing.

Chapter 12

A big man in a black suit (must have been the CIA watchdog Harvey had been waiting for) supervised an orderly wheeling Laura’s bed into the next elevator over as Thomas and I exited ours. Thirty seconds later and we would’ve missed them. Thomas grabbed a door as it started to close.

“Hold on—where are you taking her?” he said, using his you-
will
-tell-me voice.

The orderly stammered, “Th-the roof.” The other guy looked disgusted and forcibly removed Thomas’s hand so the doors could shut. Not everyone responds well to the you-
will
-tell-me voice.

From what I could see before the doors shut, Laura looked better than the last time we’d seen her. Though her eyes were closed, the massive quantities of blood poured back into her had added a little extra color to her cheeks, so at least she no longer matched her sheets.

Thomas jabbed the up button once and stood poised by the elevator we’d just left, but it was too late. It was gone. He set his jaw and waited. I pushed the button several times in rapid succession. Not that I think that makes the next elevator get there any faster, but it is a nice stress reliever. The fact that Thomas didn’t stop me was telling—he was even more anxious than I was.

“Why are they taking her to the roof?” I asked, mainly just to say something. I didn’t really expect an answer, but I got one.

“Because that’s where the helipad is.” His voice was tight. Obviously, he didn’t like the idea of Laura taking a helicopter trip. I’m no medical expert, but it didn’t sound like a real good idea to me, either.

“But why—”

The doors opened, and he stepped in, bumping shoulders with three surprised hospital visitors trying to get out. I shrugged and smiled apologetically, making it past the doors seconds before they shut. Thomas stood stiffly, looking as if his will alone would carry the elevator to the roof.

We got there as the orderlies were loading Laura onto a black helicopter. It didn’t appear to be medical transport. Standing by, supervising the operation, was Mark. Thomas ran to him, and I followed, ducking under the spinning blades. Not that I needed to worry about decapitation at my height, but some things you do just by reflex.

“Where the hell are you taking her?” Thomas yelled, barely audible over the noise. Poor Thomas. He was having a bad day—nobody was staying put.

Mark leaned closer to his ear and said something I couldn’t make out. Thomas nodded, not looking pleased, but not arguing. He pointed to me and said, if I read his lips correctly, “You take Ciel.” Then he climbed into the helicopter after the stretcher. I tried to follow him, but Mark caught my arm and pulled me back. Once we were clear, the chopper lifted off.

As soon as the din died down, I turned to Mark. His eyes were still following the helicopter’s progress, his profile chiseled sharp and smooth against the night sky.

Damn.
Was my heart ever going to stop speeding up at the sight of him? I should have been used to it—it wasn’t really a surprise, not after all these years—but somehow it still startled me.

I gave myself a tiny shake. This would not do. I had questions, and I wanted answers. “What’s going on now? Where are they taking Laura? Is it safe to move her? Why is Thomas going with her?”

He didn’t reply.

“Come
on,
Mark. Just spill it. I think I have a right to know what’s going on—I’m the one who found her bleeding all over Billy’s floor. Besides, she’s my friend, too.” That was a bit of a stretch, considering we’d just met a few weeks earlier and had spent a total of maybe forty-five minutes in girlish conversation. But we’d
bonded
.

He ran a hand through his short, dirty-blond hair, looking off into the distance. “It’s complicated.”

“Have you noticed my life lately? I am the queen of complicated,” I said wryly. “Anyway, you know it doesn’t end well when you try to leave me out of the loop.”

A half-smile softened the usual hard line of his mouth and sent a certain memory zinging back to the forefront of my mind. We’d been alone then, too, on a sailboat moored off a Swedish island in the Baltic. I’d been wrapped in a blanket—naked—and he’d been giving me a lesson in, um, dealing with sensations. It was a kiss I wasn’t likely to forget. Speaking of complicated …

“Okay,” he said, still not looking at me. “Laura is going to a safe house—no, I can’t tell you where—because it was going to be difficult to ensure her safety here. Harvey insisted, and when it comes to stuff like that, whatever Harvey wants, Harvey gets. He is that high up the food chain. Thomas is going with her because … well, that’s one you’ll have to ask him. And if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m going to think you’re all over being mad about what happened on the boat.”

Damn.
The man had phenomenal peripheral vision.

“I, uh, wasn’t really mad about that. I was, um, just a little surprised by the … I was surprised.” My turn to look away. His turn to study my face.