EYE OF THE STORM Page 8

  Jack coughed, and I could tell he was choking down a laugh, too. I looked, but all I saw was a log. No, wait. That was a gator. And he was staring in our direction.

  "Very funny, boys."

  "Are you—"

  I pointed at Jack. "Don't finish that sentence."

  "All Shook Up?"

  I groaned. "I really need this hurricane to just go away. And, Lucky? I blame you for this. You're uninvited to the barbecue."

  Lucky gave me his best puppy-dog-eyes look. "Aw, Tess, you know I'm just joking. And you're too nice a person to uninvite me. Also, can you invite Mellie? Dallas likes her."

  "Sure. I can try." Lucky and Molly. Carlos and Dave. Now Dallas and Mellie. What was I, a dating service?

  Tess Callahan, Match Maker.

  We got down to business, finally, and asked him whether he'd seen anything the night before.

  "Yeah, actually. I was out on a late run, around midnight, and saw two men fighting about something over on Forgotten Pirate Road, this bit that has a pull-off where you can park your truck and put your boat in the water. You could have a look."

  "Tess, do we have time?"

  I looked at my watch. "If we hurry. I don't want to keep the mayor waiting and make him mad, because then who knows how long it will take to get rid of the death cooties."

  Lucky raised his hand. "Death cooties?"

  "Don’t ask."

  He told us how to get to the spot where he'd seen the men, and we took off. I glanced back as we drove away, and darned if that gator didn't seem to be watching me.

  Jack had to shift into tiger form, but then it only took him five minutes to find the footlocker. When we opened it, I gasped.

  "That's stuff from my shop! And these tools still have the Dead End Hardware price tags on them. And what's this?" I picked up one of what looked like hundreds of paper brochures and then held it up for Jack to see. "A bunch of 2020 Dead End Savings & Loan calendars. What the heck? This doesn’t make any sense at all. What do vampires need with a bunch of calendars?"

  Jack shook his head, clearly as confused as I was. "Not only that, but why is this here? Why would they rob the stores and leave their loot here?"

  "Maybe the thefts were a diversion?" I read a lot of mysteries, and diversion crimes were popular.

  "From what? It’s not like they diverted the police to your shop and robbed the bank. They couldn’t get into the bank vault, remember?"

  I stood and brushed dirt off my jeans. "Yeah, but they didn't know it wouldn't work when they tried it."

  "Maybe." He didn't sound convinced. "Anyway, we need to call Susan and tell her."

  He called, and she asked him to bring the footlocker to her and not touch anything inside (oops) or at least not remove anything if we'd already touched it.

  We agreed, and she hung up.

  Jack put the trunk in the back of the truck, lifting it like it weighed nothing, which made me feel optimistic about getting rid of the death cooties, and then we headed back to town.

  "What's next?"

  I thought about it. "Well, I need to clean and cook for the barbecue, so you need to go shopping for enough groceries for twenty or so people plus one tiger."

  He groaned. "Tess. I don't like to play the 'I was co-commander of all North American rebels,' but …"

  "So organizing a simple grocery trip should be easy for you." I smiled at him. "Also, if you shop, I'll bake whatever kind of pie you'd like."

  "Pecan?"

  "Sure."

  "Strawberry?"

  "Okay."

  "Chocolate cream?"

  "Which one?"

  "Yes."

  10

  I plopped down, face-forward, on my couch and groaned.

  "Well, that went well," Jack said, from where he'd collapsed on a chair. "I think I grilled a thousand burgers."

  We'd had a full house. A full-to-bursting house. Friends, family, and even a new neighbor who just happened to be a vampire.

  And it had all gone wonderfully.

  "I can't believe Mellie brought donuts."

  I opened an eye. "She always brings donuts. She is the donut queen."

  "Donut goddess."

  "Donut empress. And, speaking of empresses, you didn't thank me for the six pies I baked."

  "Yeah. About that." He sounded sheepish enough that I opened both eyes.

  "What?"

  "I may have only put five out for guests and kept one just for us."

  I closed my eyes again and wondered if:

  1) business owners could take sick days due to exhaustion-by-barbecue, and

  2) when exactly my house and my barbecues and my pies had become we and us and ours, and

  3) why I didn't mind that last part at all.

  "Jack?"

  "Yes?"

  "The next time I suggest having a barbecue for, basically, everyone I know, kick me. It would be kinder."

  "There aren't that many dishes left, and I'll finish those," he said. Inexplicably, my big, scary, tiger shifter liked doing dishes.

  I groaned again but then swung my legs over and sat up. "I'll help. Cleanup will go faster with both of us. Anyway, everybody pitched in before they left."

  We made fairly quick work of it, stopping to nibble on leftovers from time to time (me) or constantly (him). It was only eleven, but it was a "school night" as Shelley had said, and almost everyone had to be up early for work. Even Susan had stopped by, very briefly, plowed through a plate of food, gave non-answers to everybody about the robberies, advised us to bring food, not flowers, if we visited Mr. Peterson at home, because he was cranky, and told me she'd filed everything needed with my insurance.

  So, if Ronald did his job, I should have my payout fairly soon, which was a good thing, because those new counters didn't come cheap.

  "What did you think about Carlos and Dave?"

  Jack plunged the grill tongs into the hot, soapy water and scowled. "I don't like it."

  "Why not?"

  "You saw Carlos's life. And you know Dave. In what universe do those two worlds intersect?"

  "He's building a house here in Dead End, not buying some fancy condo in Orlando," I reminded him. "And you can't protect everybody."

  "Wanna bet?"

  Before I could even begin to think of an answer to that, my doorbell rang.

  "Maybe somebody forgot something?"

  "Maybe it's Mellie with more donuts?" Jack's face lit up and my stomach lurched.

  If I ate one more donut this century, it would be too soon.

  Before we could finish drying our hands, a knock sounded at the kitchen door, which opened to my back porch. Jack tensed, but then relaxed somewhat.

  "It's Carlos."

  "How do you know—"

  "He's on the phone and, as you know, I have—"

  "Superior tiger hearing," I said dryly. "Yes, I know."

  I opened the door, Jack right next to me, and Carlos ended his call and turned his strained face toward us.

  "I need to go to my club. My manager quit, and my head bartender refuses to work."

  Jack tilted his head. "And your personnel problems interest us, why?"

  "Because I hear Ivan is behind both of these things. He threatened my staff. In hopes, I'm assuming, that I'll just give up and sign the club over to him. If I don't have any employees to run the place, it's no good to me."

  "What a scum bag," I said hotly. "That's not fair!"

  Jack and Carlos both looked at me with pitying expressions, and I threw my hands in the air, forgetting I held the dish cloth, and accidentally smacked Jack in the face with a wet towel.

  "Um. Oops. Sorry. But, yes, I know that life isn't fair, boys. You don’t have to give me your 'poor Tess' looks. It just made me feel better to vent."

  Jack wiped his face with his sleeve. "Oh, Tess. It wasn't a 'poor Tess' look. It was an 'oh, The Wonder of You' look."

  Carlos smiled.

  I didn't get it. "Is that an Elvis song, too?"

 
"Of course it is," Jack said.

  "You're The Devil in Disguise," I muttered, stepping back and waving Carlos into the house.

  "And you're telling us this because?" But I had a sinking feeling I knew. Carlos wanted us to go to Orlando with him to confront Ivan.

  I was of two minds on this:

  1) I never wanted to see Ivan again, and

  2) I never wanted to see Ivan again.

  So, naturally, I said: "Just let me get changed into something that doesn't smell like barbecue sauce, and we'll go."

  I left them arguing about how best to confront a vampire who was almost certainly a murderer—if not now, then at other times in his long life—and probably a foot-chopper-off-er, too, and went to my room.

  I had no interest in dressing up to impress anybody in Carlos's club after what had happened the last time, but the thought of Jack seeing Trinity in her little silver dress made me go for a white lace dress instead of the jeans I'd first reached for. I brightened up my eyeshadow with a little glitter, put lipstick on, slipped into some dressy silver sandals, kissed Lou on the head, and walked out into my living room, where a shapeshifter and a vampire both fell silent when they saw me, and I could read the admiration on both of their faces.

  It a uniquely satisfying moment, because nothing like it had ever happened to me before. I wasn't the kind of person who stopped traffic, but I could dress up okay, and this was me, putting in some effort.

  "Beautiful, Tess," Carlos said, grinning.

  "Yes," was all that Jack said, but his eyes flashed amber, and that meant more to me than any words he could have given me.

  "Let's go kick some vampire butt," I said.

  Jack insisted we take my car or his truck, in case Carlos needed to stay at the club late to deal with business, and I agreed with him. I didn't want to be stuck at anybody else's mercy to get home ever again.

  We took my car, because I felt like driving fast, and sped down the freeway, playing tag with Carlos's BMW, passing and being passed. I was high on the feeling of being admired, the joy of the barbecue, and the news from the mayor (who'd called instead of stopped by) that my claim would be paid by the beginning of next week.

  Jack, far more comfortable in the passenger seat of my car than I ever would have expected for such a control freak alpha personality, reached over and twirled a strand of my hair around his fingers. "Can this count as our first date?"

  "No, definitely not. Our first date won't include Carlos." I shivered a little and then fiddled with the A/C controls, so Jack wouldn't realize that he was causing my goosebumps, not the cold air.

  "This coming Saturday night, without fail," he finally said, his voice raspy and a little deeper than usual. "And we leave our phones at home. Deal?"

  "Deal!"

  "And, no matter what, you stay out of this Ivan's reach at the club. I'm worried that he has developed some kind of weird fixation on you—the older ones can do that, for no reason that anybody sane would understand—and I'm second-guessing our decision for you to come along at all."

  "Our decision?" I shook my head. "It was all on me. Look. If he's hiding from the police, he might hide from you and definitely from Carlos. But seeing me might tempt him into doing something stupid—and stupid means we can catch him."

  "Means I can catch him," Jack said. "You're brave as hell, Tess, but no match for a centuries-old vampire."

  "I know that. I only wish I'd brought my rifle." I smiled, thinking of what all those vampire dancers would think of me if I came storming in with a rifle, wearing my little white dress.

  When we arrived, a parking spot labeled T. Callahan had magically appeared next to C. Gonzalez, and I parked perfectly.

  On the third try.

  A personal best, really.

  I shot Jack a look, silently daring him to say a single word, but he just looked out the window and hummed Jailhouse Rock.

  "You don't go to jail for bad parking." I finally lined it up, more or less, and jumped out of the car.

  Carlos, meanwhile, had been standing next to his car staring at me with ever-widening eyes.

  "It's hard to park wearing high-heeled sandals," I explained blithely. "Are we going or what?"

  "She has a parking problem," Jack helpfully explained, and I put my hands on my hips and glared at them both.

  "A Little Less Conversation, perhaps, boys?"

  They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  Great.

  Bonding through shared Tess mockery.

  I sighed.

  But then Jack walked over, put his arm around me, and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Looking at you in that dress, I might feel my temperature rising."

  "Do you feel Burning Love?" I smiled sweetly at him.

  "I think I might," he admitted.

  "Try some antibiotics," I advised, and then I hurried to catch up with the man who had not said a word about my "parking problem."

  In a vastly disappointing development, Ivan was not at the club. Neither were any matchbook covers with hotel names written on them, lost keycards, or anything else that screamed CLUE.

  However, there were several crying employees. Turned out Ivan had called Carlos's entire staff and threatened them. Half of the people who'd been meant to be on duty had called in sick, and I didn't blame them. Most of the Bram's staff were human, and even the few vampires were no match for somebody as old and powerful as Ivan.

  Two hours and a lot of disappointment later, I asked the question. "Why are you?"

  Carlos, who was knocking back his third or fourth shot of whiskey, looked over at me. "What? Why am I what?"

  "Why are you a match for Ivan? You were only Turned, what? A few years ago? How is it that the Council wants you, and you can stand up to somebody like him?" I was way past being too polite to ask invasive questions at this point.

  Jack tossed back a shot of his own and then leaned back against the bar and looked at Carlos. "Power isn't just about age."

  Carlos saluted Jack with his glass and then downed another shot. "Your feline friend is right, Tess. I was … let's say strong-willed before I became a vampire. Personality transfers over."

  "What did you do? Before this?" I snatched the bottle before either of them could pour themselves more shots. "And let's have this conversation at least partially sober, okay?"

  "Vampires don't get drunk easily, Tess," Carlos said. "I could drink that entire bottle and only feel a slight numbness."

  "Ditto. Tiger," Jack said, leaping up on the bar, grabbing another bottle, and jumping back down in moves that would have had him kicked out of any human bar but barely raised an eyebrow here.

  Well. Maybe one eyebrow.

  Trinity's delicate blonde eyebrow, to be precise. She gave Jack her big, beautiful smile and floated over to him, all grace and elegance. "Can I get you anything?"

  I poured myself a shot and downed it.

  Then I started coughing and choking, because I'd never had a shot of anything this potent in my life.

  Jack grinned at me, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. Then told Trinity "no, thank you," reached over and took the bottle away from me, downed another shot, and pointed at me. "I'm Stuck on You, Tess Callahan."

  Oh, boy.

  As I remembered, tigers could get a little bit drunk.

  "Dance with me," he said, and his eyes were green pools of seduction.

  Either that, or that whiskey had gone straight to my brain.

  "Oh, hell," Carlos muttered, and he poured another shot. "Young love. It's sickening. Go dance with him, Tess, and I'll keep interviewing my staff."

  Trinity, concern on her beautiful face, walked up and put a hand on her boss's arm. "Carlos. Don't you think that's enough?"

  I took the new bottle out of Jack's hand. "Yes, definitely enough."

  He let me take the bottle and the shot glass and move them to the table behind me. As soon as my hands were free, he pulled me into his arms.

  "Dance with me, lovely Te
ss," he murmured into my hair. "Make my dreams come true."

  I shivered but didn't move away.

  "Yes, let's dance," I said, turning my face up to his.

  Carlos said something to somebody, maybe, because as we walked onto the dance floor, the driving club beat changed to something slow and hot, with a rhythmic beat that made me instinctually move closer to Jack and put my arms around him.

  He wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me into the air, twirled me around, and then put me back down on a corner of the dance floor, far from the enormous speakers and a little secluded from the crowd.

  And then we danced, and the crowd disappeared. There was only Jack, and the music, and the magic, older than time, of two bodies moving as if they'd been made for each other.

  Jack sighed, a long, slow, exhalation of breath, and then he bent his forehead to mine.

  "Ah, Tess. I was afraid it would be like this between us."

  I put my arms around his neck and pulled him even closer. "Afraid?" My voice sounded floaty and dreamy and all the things I never was. Maybe it was the whiskey.

  He kissed my temple, and I could feel electricity chasing shivers through my entire body.

  Yeah, no. It wasn't the whiskey.

  It was Jack.

  "Why afraid?"

  "Because maybe …" He took a deep breath and then he gave me a crooked smile. "Maybe I Can't Help Falling in Love with you."

  "I love Elvis Presley," I said.

  And then I kissed him (Jack, not Elvis) for a very long time, right there on the dance floor, surrounded by vampires.

  Hoping, in spite of myself, that I wasn't headed for Heartbreak Hotel.

  11

  I drove Jack home to his house.

  I knew that, if he came to my house, things between us would almost certainly move a lot faster than I was ready for, especially since we hadn't even had our first date.

  He said he understood.

  He also kissed me goodbye, which made me almost change my mind.

  But sanity and good Southern upbringing prevailed, and I drove home alone, singing along to my radio since nobody was around to criticize my voice.