Circus of the Damned

“If you don’t like the answer, you shouldn’t have asked the question,” I said.

“Very true.”

The office door opened. Dolph came out, notebook in hand. “You can go home, Anita. I’ll check the statements with you tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

“Heh, I know where you live.” He smiled.

I smiled back. “Thanks, Dolph.” I stood up.

Jean-Claude stood in one smooth motion like he was a puppet pulled up by invisible strings. Richard stood slower, using the wall to stand, as if he were stiff. Standing, Richard was taller than Jean-Claude by at least three inches. Which made Richard six-one. Almost too tall for my taste, but no one was asking me.

“And could we talk to you some more, Jean-Claude?” Dolph said.

Jean-Claude said, “Of course, detective.” He walked down the hall. There was a stiffness in the way he moved. Did vampires bruise? Had he been hurt in the fight? Did it matter? No, no, it didn’t. In a way Jean-Claude was right; if he had been human, even an egotistical son of a bitch, there might have been possibilities. I’m not prejudiced, but God help me, the man has to at least be alive. Walking corpses, no matter how pretty, are just not my cup of tea. Dolph held the door for Jean-Claude.

Dolph looked back at us. “You’re free to go, too, Mr. Zeeman.”

“What about my friend Stephen?”

Dolph glanced at the sleeping shapeshifter. “Take him home. Let him sleep it off. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “Make that later today.”

“I’ll tell Stephen when he wakes up.”

Dolph nodded and closed the door. We were alone in the buzzing silence of the hallway. Of course, maybe it was just my own ears buzzing.

“Now what?” Richard said.

“We go home,” I said.

“Rashida drove.”

I frowned. “Who?”

“The other shapeshifter, the woman whose arm was torn up.”

I nodded. “Take Stephen’s car.”

“Rashida drove us both.”

I shook my head. “So you’re stranded.”

“Looks that way.”

“You could call a cab,” I said.

“No money.” He almost smiled.

“Fine; I’ll drive you home.”

“And Stephen?”

“And Stephen,” I said. I was smiling and I didn’t know why, but it was better than crying.

“You don’t even know where I live. It could be Kansas City.”

“If it’s a ten-hour drive, you’re on your own,” I said. “But if it’s reasonable, I’ll drive you.”

“Is Meramec Heights reasonable?”

“Sure.”

“Let me get the rest of my clothes,” he asked.

“You look fully dressed to me,” I said.

“I’ve got a coat around here somewhere.”

“I’ll wait here,” I said.

“You’ll watch Stephen?” Something like fear crossed his face, filled his eyes.

“What are you afraid of?” I asked.

“Airplanes, guns, large predators, and master vampires.”

“I agree with two out of four,” I said.

“I’ll go get my coat.”

I slid down to sit beside the sleeping werewolf. “We’ll be waiting.”

“Then I’ll hurry.” He smiled when he said it. He had a very nice smile.

Richard came back wearing a long black coat. It looked like real leather. It flapped like a cape around his bare chest. I liked the way the leather framed his chest. He buttoned the coat and tied the leather belt tight. The black leather went with the long hair and handsome face; the grey sweats and Nikes did not. He knelt and picked Stephen up in his arms, then stood. The leather creaked as his upper arms strained. Stephen was my height and probably didn’t weigh twenty pounds more than I did. Petite. Richard carried him like he wasn’t heavy.

“My, my, grandmother, what strong arms you have.”

“Is my line, ‘The better to hold you with’?” He was looking at me very steadily.

I felt heat creeping up my face. I hadn’t meant to flirt, not on purpose. “You want a ride, or not?” My voice was rough, angry with embarrassment.

“I want a ride,” he said quietly.

“Then can the sarcasm.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic.”

I stared up at him. His eyes were perfectly brown like chocolate. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. A tactic I should probably use more often.

I turned and walked away, fishing my car keys out as I moved. Richard followed behind. Stephen snuffled against his chest, pulling the blanket close in his sleep.

“Is your car very far?”

“A few blocks; why?”

“Stephen isn’t dressed for the cold.”

I frowned at him. “What, you want me to drive the car around and pick you up?”

“That would be very nice,” he said.

I opened my mouth to say no, then closed it. The thin blanket wasn’t much protection, and some of Stephen’s injuries were from saving my life. I could drive the car around.

I satisfied myself with grumbling under my breath, “I can’t believe I’m a door-to-door taxi for a werewolf.”

Richard either didn’t hear me, or chose to ignore it. Smart, handsome, junior high science teacher, degree in preternatural biology, what more could I ask for? Give me a minute and I’d think of something.

Chapter 9

The car rode in its own tu

Stephen was asleep in the back seat of my Nova. Richard sat in the passenger seat, half-turned in his seat belt to look at me. It was just polite to look at someone when you talk to them. But I felt at a disadvantage because I had to watch the road. All he had to do was stare at me.

“What do you do in your spare time?” Richard asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t have spare time.”

“Hobbies?”

“I don’t think I have any of those, either.”

“You must do something besides shoot large snakes in the head,” he said.

I smiled and glanced at him. He leaned towards me as much as the seat belt would allow. He was smiling, too, but there was something in his eyes, or his posture, that said he was serious. Interested in what I would say.

“I’m an animator,” I said.

He clasped his hands together, left elbow propped on the back of the seat. “Okay, when you’re not raising the dead, what do you do?”

“Work on preternatural crimes with the police, mostly murders.”

“And?” he said.

“And I execute rogue vampires.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” I said. I glanced at him again. In the dark I couldn’t see his eyes, their color was too dark for that, but I could feel his gaze. Probably imagination. Yeah. I’d been hanging around Jean-Claude too long. The smell of Richard’s leather coat mingled with a faint whiff of his cologne. Something expensive and sweet. It went very nicely with the smell of leather.

“I work. I exercise. I go out with friends.” I shrugged. “What do you do when you’re not teaching?”

“Scuba diving, caving, bird watching, gardening, astronomy.” His smile was a dim whiteness in the near dark.

“You must have a lot more free time than I do.”

“Actually, the teacher always has more homework than the students,” he said.

“Sorry to hear that.”

He shrugged, the leather creaked and slithered over his skin. Good leather always moved like it was still alive.

“Do you watch TV?” he asked.

“My television broke two years ago, and I never replaced it.”

“You must do something for fun.”

I thought about it. “I collect toy penguins.” The minute I said it, I wished I hadn’t.

He gri

“Glad to hear it.” My voice sounded grumpy even to me.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“I’m not very good at small talk,” I said.

“You were doing fine.”

No, I wasn’t, but I wasn’t sure how to explain it to him. I didn’t like talking about myself to strangers. Especially strangers with ties to Jean-Claude.

“What do you want from me?” I said.