~*~
It was always fun to introduce a female para-virgin to the idea that the world wasn’t what she thought it was.
First, she’d argue.
Then she’d want him to prove it—to change.
Then she’d look for hidden candid camera devices. Well, at least Miranda Mellons looked for hidden camera devices, eyeing first his wolf form, and then the room, in a very suspicious manner.
If she handled that without him having to call in a healer to chill her out, it meant she accepted, and she’d want to know about everyone. Everywhere. Everything about paranormals. Certainly Miranda followed that part of the pattern, asking him questions that had never occurred to him, and he was the one who could turn into a wolf.
Sometimes, and with some women, he could nudge her curiosity about paranormals into curiosity about sex with paranormals, but not until she signed the magically binding nondisclosure agreement.
He was looking forward to the curiosity about sex part with Miranda. She was already attracted to him, and who knows where her eagerness to learn might take them? If things went as Mr. Fritz hoped, she’d be around for a while, and he found himself very happy about the prospect of some extended time with Ms. Miranda Mellons.
But the scanner technology was a liability. He understood enough to manipulate the work she’s done but not enough to develop it. Electroencephalography had not been part of his studies at MIT.
He handed her the pen. “We have to be able to trust you before I can tell you anything else,” he said, his voice still husky after the transformation of his vocal cords from man to wolf to man again. Her hands had felt so good in his ruff, on his ears, when she’d caressed him in wolf form. He’d allowed himself a hearty sniff of her crotch.
Right before she smacked him on the snout.
However, she was more intelligent than most humans. “Is this pen enchanted?” she asked as she held it poised over the dotted line.
Should he tell the truth or the whole truth? “It’s just a Sharpie.”
It was the parchment that was enchanted.
She dropped her hand and began to write.
“Wait.” He put his hand on hers. Her skin was silky, warm, and he had to force himself not to stroke his way up her arm. “The parchment is charmed. When you sign it, it’s binding. You won’t be able to clue in anyone who doesn’t know about the paranormal world, and you won’t be able to use your technology to reveal us without the consent of the wizard who created the spell.”
“Can I still use my technology to hunt for ETs?” she asked.
“There are no aliens,” he said. She pouted. “This whole time, your Dream Team has been hunting paranormals, only they didn’t realize it. PMS apparently keeps an eye on your group and others like it. We’re the blips on your gamma wave radar.”
“I still think there’s life on other planets. Maybe paranormals came from other planets.” She glanced up at him, her mossy brown eyes hopeful, but he just shook his head no.
With a sigh, she put the pen to the paper but lifted it again, hesitant. “What if I don’t sign?”
“A wizard will wipe your memory of this experience and your technology. We can’t afford for humans to control the Big Reveal,” he said. He really hoped she didn’t go that route, because it would wipe her memory of him, too. “When we’re ready, we’ll be in charge of it, not scrambling in reaction. Otherwise, can you imagine the chaos?”
She shook her head. “I guess I understand that.”
She seemed so sad, it made him want to howl. “Of course you do.”
With a dejected slump, she finished signing and clipped the pen on the outside of the document folder. “I guess I have no choice.”
He’d never initiated a para-virgin and had her respond like this. Sure, they weren’t always thrilled, but the poor woman seemed like he’d crushed her life’s dreams. Which he had. What was he supposed to do now?
ParaPleasures was in full swing downstairs. Surely there was something there that would cheer her up. “Do you want to meet a vampire? Try some magical chocolates? We’ve even got succubi and incubi on the premises for ParaPleasures. And all sorts of things. Electronic things.” He waggled his eyebrows, but she didn’t smile.
“No thanks,” she said. “I need to get back to Alamo and start looking for a real job. I can’t accept my stipend from the Dream Team now that I know the truth.”
“It’s not the end of the world,” he said. “It’s the beginning. Your machine is an incredible innovation. PMS is really anxious about it.” Maybe he needed to call the healer after all. Miranda even smelled sad.
“I don’t have PMS.” She shrugged. “I’m depressed.”
“PMS is a company called Paranormal and Magical Security. I’m on retainer.”
“All my life,” she said with a hitch in her voice, “I believed. I believed in the existence of extraterrestrials and the knowledge we’d gain as a race once we connected with our stellar ancestors. Instead, I find out we’ve been chasing fairies. Fairies! Do you think the government has your people imprisoned in Area 51?”
Oh, shit, was she going to cry? “One of the sergeants there is a shifter, but that’s as close as it gets,” he said. “Fritz, uh, apparently had him leak the radio message you intercepted so you’d bring your invention to Dunvegas.”
“I can’t believe it.” Liquid gathered in the corners of her eyes and she swiped at them. “Nothing is what I thought it was. Dad was wrong. The Dream Team is wrong.” She sniffled and repeated herself, in a stronger voice. “The Dream Team is wrong, and they don’t know what I know.”
Harry patted her shoulder awkwardly. He was much, much better at the sexing than the comforting. “I bet PMS would love to get a techie like you on staff. I’ll put in a good word.”
“You would?” she asked. “That might be interesting. And I do need a job.”
He’d love to work with her at PMS. Or in bed, whichever came first. “Least I could do. Then you can invent gamma wave scanners to your heart’s content.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Lupin, did you really go to MIT?”
“My first name’s Harry,” he said. “And yes, I did. And no, we don’t turn into ravening wolves when there’s a full moon. And no, you won’t turn into a wolf if I bite you.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth and stifled a cackle.
“What?” he said.
“A werewolf named Harry?”
“Family name.” He grinned. “Shall we contact the director of PMS and find out about that job?”
Miranda eyed him, considering. Her lashes were damp from tears, but her eyes twinkled like the stars on a forest pond. The smell of sadness had disappeared, replaced by something warmer. Steamier.
She reached out her magic fingers and trailed them down his chest. “Harry, I meant to ask you before. How else are paranormals different from humans?”
Harry was very, very happy to show her, and Miranda was very, very interested to learn.
(Return to Table of Contents)
Things Are Popping Up In Dunvegas, Part 3
By S.J. Willing
(Return to Part 1 or Part 2)