~*~*~
We drove along to work. I cried silently because the sun hurt my head and eyes. Even through my sunglasses the sun hurt. I felt grimy and dehydrated. There was a knot in my stomach, but it wasn't there from the hangover.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said quietly when we pulled into the parking lot.
“I don't really get a say when it comes to Bridget.” He didn’t sound angry, just stated a fact.
“Oh, uh, sorry.” I didn't really want to make another enemy. “I didn't mean to put anyone out.”
“No worries. I feel like I owe you since I didn’t stop Bridget from funneling drinks into you.”
David pulled his Camry up to the main doors. The parking lot was filled. Everyone was inside having our pre-audit meeting. Prepping us for what was to come. I was late. Not only that I was ill-dressed. I was calling attention to myself no matter what.
“I'll just catch a cab home.”
David shook his head. He reached over me to retrieve something from the glove compartment. “Give me your arm.” With the glove box pen he scribbled some numbers on my arm. “Just text me.”
I got out. I looked like crap. I felt like crap. I refused to remove my sunglasses for fear of an instant migraine. Despite the mess I was I strode to the door pretending I had the confidence of a Victoria's Secret model. I marched to the first floor conference room, stopping briefly outside. I could hear Carl inside. Through the door's little window I saw that he stood before the assembled workers. He was in a suit and he talked with his hands.
All my fake confidence evaporated. This wasn't me. I never drank when I had to be up and out in the morning. My hand shook as it went near the doorknob. I couldn't delay much longer. It was only a matter of time before someone caught me hovering outside. I pushed through the door, face red with embarrassment. Carl didn't halt his speech, but he looked directly at me.
A few eyes in the back row did the same. The conference room was like a small lecture hall. It was set up with five rows of folding chairs, ten across. There were no more open seats. So I leaned against the back wall. I caught sight of Sean near the front. He caught sight of me too. I lowered my eyes.
The meeting lasted four hours. I learned very little. A serious complaint had been filed. The complaint was that a BSB case worker had said and done some derogatory things. The accuser did not feel safe and given recent stakings at a BSB office in Portland, Oregon these complaints were taken very seriously. No mention that the accuser had attacked the same case worker she leveled her accusations at. We'd all be observed and questioned. Questions would be about us, about coworkers, and personality examinations. We then watched a two hour video on prejudice in the workplace.
I texted David as Carl wrapped everything up. He hadn't seemed too happy about driving me this morning. I hoped the number he gave me wasn't fake.
I filed out of the conference room first. There was no way I would willing talk to anyone in my current state. I ducked into the first floor bathroom and waited for a response for my text. Knowing other women would be coming in to use the facilities after such a long, boring meeting, I did what any self respecting person would do. I hid in a stall.
The door to the bathroom opened. At least three women entered. I could hear them talking. Eavesdropping wasn't a habit of mine so I did my best to tune them out. It'd have been easier if Patrice wasn't among the women who entered.
“I can't believe she showed up late. In that tacky ass jacket. Then she has the nerve to hide in the bathroom.” I stood on the toilet and looked over the door at Patrice. She stood with her hip cocked, arms crossed over her chest, glaring up at me. Two other women, I didn't recognize, had come in with her. They went into the empty stalls. “You smell like a distillery. Now get down from your creepy post so these fine ladies can use the bathroom.”
I did as I was told. I exited the stall and stood before Patrice.
“You look like hell. What happened?”
“I don't want to talk about. Hung over and all that.” Patrice scrunched up her face. She raised an eyebrow. “Rain check?” I offered.
“Go home and take a damn shower.” Patrice made a disapproving grunt, but stepped aside from the door. “You'd tell me if you needed help right?” She asked as I passed.
No. “Of course.” She rewarded my lie with a warm smile.
Relieved of my duty to explain myself I left my sanctuary of the bathroom. I caught sight of Carl walking toward the elevator with Agent Hill. Balicki was nowhere to be seen. I did need to go home and shower, but I had questions.
“Carl!” I pushed my way through the BSB people milling out.
Carl and Hill stopped to look me over. Carl looked annoyed. “How nice of you to join the meeting. Did you not see the memo yesterday?”
“Yeah, about this. Why is this moving forward? Jessica came after me twice. Do I need to show you the bruise again?”
Annoyance was replaced with pity. “I'm sorry Miss Dunmore.” I actually believed him. “The audit is going to continue. The auditor, a-” he looked to Hill for the name.
“Stevenson Dhaliwal,” Hill said.
“He insisted this continue. Whether or not this Jessica Klein woman is lying or not, a lot of attention is being drawn to this office. The BSB wants to avoid a scandal going public. This is really just a show, Miss Dunmore.”
Scandal? Like if my body drained of blood washes onto the lakeshore? Dear God, I was going to die thanks to bureaucracy and red tape. “This isn't fair,” I said flatly.
“Be home before dark, Miss Dunmore. Put my number on speed dial. I will make sure someone patrols around your house tonight,” Hill instructed.
In my pocket I felt my phone vibrate. My ride was probably here. Shoulders slouched, head down, I power walked from the elevator to the front door. A few of the smokers outside raised their eyes to me. They sniggered and went back to their quiet conversations.
In the parking lot Bridget leaned up against a cherry red Mustang convertible. She wore flare legged jeans that were a size too big and a white t-shirt proudly showing Bowie's face. Sitting on the hood, like a car model, was a fire haired woman. Her hair blew in the slight breeze like a fire on top of her head. She wore jean shorts stopping short of her ass and a gray tank top. She filed her nails while Bridget waved me over.
I felt a figure move behind me as I started to walk. I looked over my shoulder to see Sean. His eyes fixated on the Mustang.
“You've made some new friends,” he said. “I don't suppose Bridget gave you some of Granddad’s special brew.”
“You know her?” I turned completely to face him.
His eyes left the car to look at me. “She's been a witness to a few territory disputes. She's...unhinged, at best.” His face clouded at some memory he was not willing to share. He sniffed the breeze. “I'd say that's her sister. I can smell Were on her.”
“Is her sister unhinged?”
“No more than any other human who has been turned. All I know is she's a registered loner.”
This meant she could move freely among pack boundaries without permission. And if she was turned it meant she was probably more than a little unhinged given that the full moon was only two days passed.
“Angie introduced us. Bridget had some sort of vampire repellent.” I shrugged. I didn't want to be near Sean right now. Mostly because I wanted another kiss like the one we'd shared. It was not the time or place for that.
“She's a pretty competent witch. She'd do well selling her potions and charms instead of running a bar. Samantha, I'd like to talk to you. Privately.” He cast her eyes back toward the car. I looked too. Bridget was coming over.
I wasn't interested in talking. I didn't know what Sean wanted to say, but after putting his tongue in my mouth it couldn't be good. Those kinds of talks never were.
“I need to be going.”
“Alright,” he said quietly.
“Hey Samantha, you ready?” Bridget reached us. She eyed Sean
carefully, trying to place him. “Benson, right?” He nodded. “Nice to see you again. Mind if I steal my friend here for lunch?”
“Mind if I tag along?”
Bridget's face contorted. I looked at both of them. Neither one appeared to trust the other. In the world of Others, vampires hated witches because witches were born into their role. Werewolves hated vampires because they didn't like the god complex vampires adopted. And witches hated most everyone because they were the most human, seen as the weakest. There was a lot of distrust in the community of Others. It was part of the reason the BSB wasn't resisted with any real force. No one could unite long enough to make a better deal.
I felt the tension between the witch and werewolf. Centuries of instinct funneled into the firm handshake they now shared.
“I'll pay,” Sean offered.
Satisfied with this deal, Bridget broke free of the handshake. “My sister won't want another Were in her car though.”
“I'll drive.”
Bridget nodded and went back to the Mustang to retrieve her sister.
“What was that about?” I fell into step behind Sean. He unlocked his Range Rover from part way across the parking lot.
“Want me to take you home first to change?” He said. I frowned. I didn't want him ignoring my questions.
But I also did want a change of clothes. “Yeah, that'd be great.”
I climbed into the backseat of the Rover. Someone else could sit up front with Sean. He made no objections to this. Bridget climbed in the back with me. Her sister getting up front.
“This is my sister Jenna. Jenna, meet Samantha.”
“Yo.” Jenna shook my hand.
No one said anything as we drove to my house. Classic rock pumped into the car, but I could barely hear it. I rolled down my window. As if that could somehow break the tension. Bridget, Jenna, and Sean all sat rigidly. No one trusting anyone else. Relief cascaded over me when Sean parked in front of my place.
“Can I use your bathroom?” he asked, unbuckling himself.
“I guess.”
He left the keys in the ignition. A sign he trusted Jenna and Bridget not to commit grand theft auto. He trailed me in.
Chris had drawn the shades. Everything was shadowed. Chris's car was outside, but he didn't stir when we came in. Probably napping away in his room. I felt lonely without Sasha running to greet me. That was fine. She was safer where she was.
I made for the bedroom to change, but Sean stopped me. “I'm worried about you,” he said flatly. He had me firmly by the arm. I shook him off, not liking the restraint. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Do you know what the Tears of Christ are?” I hadn't planned to tell him. But I knew Sean better than Bridget. I felt more comfortable asking him about Angie's relic.
“Supposedly the devil gifted them to his vampire children. Witches say they're actually a witch potion. And werewolves think they're actually meant for us. They're about as real as gold at the end of rainbows. Why? Who told you about them?”
“Angie. She said she stole them from this guy, Simon. He turned Jessica. He wants them back.”
“And you're her case worker so you know how to contact her.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don't think the Tears of Christ exist. Just a tale to keep Others searching, giving us something to believe in. Like the Holy Grail. People get fanatical about this sort of thing.”
Worry creased his brow. He took both my hands in his. “Did Angie say what she did with them?”
“No. She said she hid them. I don't know. I thought if I found them...”
“Don't finish that thought.”
I didn't know where I was going with it anyway. What if I found them? I give them to Simon Angie attacks. I keep them secret Simon continues his attacks through Jessica. But maybe...
“If I held on to them I'd have some bargaining power. What other choice do I have? The BSB is just making reports, but not doing anything.” I pulled my hands away and gestured to the door. “That vampire is out there! Angie put me in this position! Why shouldn't I find this thing and give it back? If this Simon guy is powerful enough to scare her, he can protect me.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. I refused to cry. I used the back of my hand to wipe my nose. With each blink more tears threatened to fall.
Sean reached for me. He pulled me into a hug. Enveloped in his arms I felt the dam break. My body shook with sobs I could no longer control. His hands ran up and down my back. He rested his chin on the top of my head.
“I never did anything...to anyone! I'm a nice person!” I cried into his chest. Tears clung to my lashes. The fabric of his shirt was wet from my outburst. My cheek chafed against it. I pulled away, wiping at my tears furiously.
Sean gently tipped my head back. This kiss was softer. Just a simple peck. I felt a second wave of tears coming up.
“I'm a mess.” I broke the kiss. I didn't pull out of his embrace though.
“You're fine.” He brushed one of my fly away hairs out of my face.
“I'm not fine. I'm hung over. I feel filthy. I'm in tweed. Tweed!”
His brown eyes took me in. “It's not your best look.”
The next kiss was more passionate. Heat rushed through my body. I broke away when I felt my hands itching to remove my jacket. When I wanted to shed clothing it had gone on too long.
“No,” I said. “No, no. No white knights.” He raised an eyebrow. “You, riding in on your white horse. Rescuing me. Stuff.”
“You hit Jessica in the head with a bat. If I wasn't there you'd probably have hit her again and again until her super human strength was useless.”
“Angie said you wanted to hump my leg.”
He didn't respond right away. “A fact I deny as your boss.” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. He pulled me closer. The space between us went from about six inches to nanometers. His lips brushed my forehead.
“I'll be fired.” I whispered. But really, what did I care? What had the BSB done for me in this fiasco?
Sean's hands moved up under the tweed. I titled my head up. His breath warm on my face. So close.
“Hey! Are you guys dead?” Bridget shouted from outside the door.
I forgot the O'Malley girls were in the car. I disentangled myself from Sean. I didn't want to though. He opened the door. Both women invaded. Jenna sniffed the air, and then looked at us.
“I'd like to take a quick shower,” I said quietly.
Bridget snapped her fingers and made a pistol gesture. “I'll just order a pizza. Is that cool with you, Mr. Benson?”
“I'll spring for any pizza that doesn't have vegetables.”
I headed down the hall, listening to them talk about toppings. I wanted to continue what I started with Sean. I wasn't convinced that he didn't have a white knight thing, but I didn't care right now.
Twelve
I wrapped a towel around my wet hair. I was feeling better having washed the grime off my body. I dressed quickly in running shorts and a Bears jersey. When I emerged from the bathroom Bridget sat alone watching TV.
She clicked through the channels so fast I barely caught anything she was watching. Seeing me she switched off the TV.
“Where'd Jenna and Sean go?”
“Wouldn't you know I ordered pizza from a place that was too far away to deliver.” I caught another mischievous glint in her eye. She winked. “I don't think he trusted me to be alone with you. Or maybe he wanted you to himself?”
I flushed under her ice blue eyes. I wasn't sure yet if I trusted her with that yet. I plopped down on the couch next to her. She smelled like stale cigarettes and cucumber melon. She'd had a smoke recently and tried to cover it up with body spray.
“He also took Jenna back to her car. I asked them to stop at the bar and get your baseball bat. You left it when you rushed out for that meeting. I took it to a priest for a blessing.”
“Pardon?”
“It's made of metal, not wood, so I can't spell it, but
holy water and a blessing ought to make any vampires think twice.”
I nodded. Vampire repellent, blessed bat. Bridget seemed like she could be a friend, but I couldn't be sure. I didn't really trust Angie and they were friends.
I decided to test the waters. “So, you're Angie's friend?”
Bridget snorted. She turned her head side to side until her neck cracked. It was loud and probably felt pretty good. “I owe Angie some pretty big favors. Whenever she presents the opportunity to pay one back, I jump at it. Most of her favors are running errands during daylight hours. She's never asked me to protect anyone before.” Bridget cracked her back, then her knuckles. On the inside of her wrist I caught sight of a large, raised, white mark. Like a burn that had never healed properly. I stared at it.
She sat on her hands when her knuckles were sufficiently cracked. I don't think she liked my staring at her scar.
“Thank you.”
“Eh, I'm no fan of vampires. And I've had a run-in with that Simon douche before. His conquests have hurt a lot of people before.” Her eyes no longer focused on me. They looked somewhere behind me, somewhere in days past. The distance lasted only a few seconds. She blinked away the memory. “You just call me if you need anything. I don't have an extra room at my place, but you can crash on the couch if you need to. Hell,” she bounced herself on the couch. I rocked slightly with her movements. “I wouldn't mind crashing here. Except what is with all this fur?”
I took the vacuum to the couch several times. I could not get rid of the wolf hair Sean left behind.
“Sean changed back from a wolf here.”
She nodded. “So you and him...?”
“What? No. He's my boss. That behavior is a fireable offense.”
“Yeah, you were pretty steamed about that last night. You kept drunkenly complaining that the BSB wouldn't let you ask out who you wanted. I assumed you had the hots for some Other, but not an Other who was your boss.”
“Well, they frown on us dating Others. They can't forbid it, but we get warned about it. They don't want any 'accidents' for humans at the BSB. No one accidentally turning into a vampire or something. But inter-office dating is a no-no.”
“Bummer. For an overprotective Were that dude seems alright.”
“Uh, did I say anything else while drunk?”
“You did say that if Christ cried in the desert His tears were dried up by now.” I cringed. I'm sure Angie didn't want that little bit of information out. “I know all about Angie's little theft. I for one think she and Simon have their hands on a trinket from the Renaissance Fair.” It looked like her eyes might just roll back into her head. “Idiots.” She murmured.
I thought back to Angie's “little theft” as Bridget called it. It wasn't like she intentionally put me in harm's way, but I was furious with her all the same. My hands itched for something to do.
“You like brownies?” I asked. Bridget looked at me like I was insane, like there were people in the world who didn’t like brownies.
I set to work mixing up some brownies while Bridget talked. She wasn't even talking about anything. She just talked and joked, lightening my mood with her chatter. She handed me ingredients as I worked, never stopping her stream of words. Sean came back, sans Jenna, finding me making baked goods and Bridget talking.
The smell of a deep dish sausage pizza overpowered every other smell in the kitchen. It was enough to bring Chris out of his coma. Sean put the pizza box down on the table along with two bags of pop. Root beer and diet cola.
Bridget moved around me to retrieve plates and cups.
“Chris, this is my friend. Bridget, this is my roommate.” The two shook hands first. Then they went after the pizza. I abandoned the cookie dough for the moment to grab a piece myself. I took some forks and knives from the drawer. I didn't know about Sean and Bridget, but I didn't like manhandling slices of deep dish. Less mess with a fork and knife.
“Your sister is stopping by the bar to get something for you,” Sean said. He picked up a slice and plopped it on a plate. He handed it to me.
Bridget took her piece and went to enjoy it on the couch. Chris joined her, turning on the TV. I sat at the table, more pizza within easy grasp. Sean sat with me.
I felt like I was in a nice, little bubble. The sun was out on this warm Saturday afternoon. I was surrounded by friends. The only thing missing was Sasha lying on my feet under the table. I listened to the sounds of the baseball game coverage and snatches of Chris and Bridget's conversation. I could hear little finches outside tweeting away. Everything was at peace.