Chapter 20

“You did what? Out the window?” Lynessa’s voice rose, then broke into a mad cackle. “Girl, have you gone bonkers?”

Didn’t you know? “That’s why I’m calling, bitch. You swear you didn’t put them up to it?”

Cora had been in her kitchen, debating whether to get out a pan to cook an egg for breakfast, or down a donut and a cup of coffee, when Lynessa called. The phone had rung, the ringtone that came installed on it from the Verizon store. Cora had been terrified to look at it, but when she’d seen it was Lynessa, she couldn’t answer it quick enough.

Lynessa laughed in her ear, long and loud, like only a best friend ever would. “You just got out of the loony bin. I’d wait at least a week before I pulled off the next, best Punk’d. I won’t say I’m not collecting brochures for shock treatments to slip in your purse, though.”

Ok. Cora believed her. “Fuck, Nessa. I said yes to a date with a man who looks ten years younger than me, then about broke my ass trying to get out of the building. Through the front door, you ask? No, through a shitbox window. Tell me the truth, do I need to go back to the loony bin and check myself in?”

Nessa howled in laughter, even though Cora was mostly serious. “Oooh, it’s all so Bridget Jones. Can you do a British accent?”

Coralie frowned. Jokes already? Fuck. Her day wasn’t gonna get any better. Her tenure hearing was in only a few days and she hadn’t spoken to the Dean in weeks. Why not play along? “You’d think, but no. Shit, last night I could barely hold a polite conversation.”

Her friend’s tone changed immediately. No more jokes. “Not your fault. After the crazy shit that dude said, he’s lucky you didn’t call the cops.”

Cora rolled her eyes. Hard. “Come on, this is me, we’re talking about. Dressed as a vampire for Halloween the last thirty-one Halloweens in a row. Let’s just say it could possibly be true. It explains why I’ve been obsessed with Dracula and vampires all my life. It even explains why I tried to kill Garner.” She frowned and stared down at the kitchen counter, where a blob of cheese from last night’s microwaved burrito bubbled. Dinner for one, coming up. “Kind of.”

Also would have been cool if the hottie proved to be honest, if she wanted to admit that to herself.

Nessa went out in left field like she always did. “Describe him. He’s the second coming of Antonio Banderas, right?”

Cora made a negative buzzer on a game show sound. ERRR. “Tall, dark, and Latino is your fantasy, Nessa, not mine. Try blond-haired, blue-eyed, ridiculously well-muscled, with a sexy-as-hell five o’clock shadow and a smile that makes my nipples stand up and beg for attention. If it wasn’t for the vampire shit, he’d be snoring in my bedroom right now.”

Lynessa laughed merrily. She loved when she could get Cora going. “Oooh, tell me again, I almost came. When you going back?”

Cora opened her mouth to answer- I’m not. He’ll have to come find me in the loony bin- when a crash and shout on the other end of the phone line stopped her. “What was that?”

Lynessa’s voice got hushed. “I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Cora’s heart sank. “Okay, honey. Be safe.”

Duane, Lynessa’s boyfriend, must have come home. Cora never understood why such an sweet, strong, and intelligent woman put up with such a loud, arrogant, mean asshole. It made no sense.

She hit the end call button and put the phone down gently on the counter, her eyes unfocused as she leaned against the counter and contemplated new ways she could help her friend. Something that would change her thoughts about herself.

A sharp noise startled her. A knock at the door. She cursed the textured glass that made up much of the door itself. It let in the most beautiful light, but also exposed her to the gaze of anyone outside. Jameson. He could see her, and she could see him. He lifted his hand awkwardly. If he was a crazy, he was an aware crazy.

Maybe he won’t notice if I run out of the room. She moved to the door and yanked it open, trying to read his face from the get-go. What in the hell did he want? She went straight aggressive. “You didn’t strike me as the kind of cop who’d abuse his badge for a date.”

He barked a laugh, but she didn’t smile. Sure, he’d laughed at her accusation instead of denying it, and that impressed her. She loved men who owned their shit- had she ever met one before? If only she could look away from that mouth. Biteable. Masculine. Like it would wrestle her mouth and win, and she would fucking love it. She bit her lip. Fuck! She was gonna make a fool of herself.

He nodded slightly. “Let’s just say I have my reasons.”

“I bet you do.” Coralie smiled flirtily and put one hand on her hip, her other shoulder resting against the doorjamb. “You gonna ‘cuff me? Or tell me more about-” She exaggerated looking around at her neighbor’s houses, then whispered, “vampires?”

Jameson’s eyebrows raised, though the curve of his easy smile never wavered and he gave another, softer laugh. “The second one.” He held up his hands. “Just hear me out.”

Cora kept her expression pleasant as she met his eyes without blinking. “Great. Exactly what I wanted to discuss this morning.”

She threw her door wide, then changed her mind and jabbed a finger at the porch swing. “You’ve got five minutes.”

She didn’t even know why she was being so cold, keeping him at a distance. Maybe she was trying to measure his bitch-tolerance.

Jameson moved to the swing and sat. She stayed where she was, leaning out the door to look at him.

He waited a beat before speaking. “You believed me last night.”

Mountains loomed behind him, and she kept her eyes on them. “Yep. Switches. Vampires. Very believable. Weapon? Maybe a little more iffy.” She eyed him. “Who would want me as a weapon? Why not you? You’re big and strong.” And hot. Don’t mention that. “You’d make a much better weapon. Wait, are you one? Are you recruiting from within?”

His ice-blue eyes regarded her steadily. He wasn’t rolling his eyes, making cuckoo noises, or twirling his finger beside his ear; she liked that in a man. He spoke. “As far as I know switches are only female.”

Okkkk. Next possibility. “And you’re not a vampire, I guess, since I don’t want to kill you.”

Jameson’s jaw tightened. “Nope, not a vampire.”

No, Cora most definitely didn’t want to kill this man. Unless the cause of death was an over-abundance of orgasms, or maybe oxygen deprivation from her thighs clamped around his head. Either way, a complete one-eighty from what she’d wanted to inflict on the councilman. “So that makes you the boss. Professor X to my mutant.” He didn’t speak and she waved her hand at him. “You are harder to get information out of than a mime with no arms. You don’t speak very much for a guy who wants me to hear him out.”

Jameson regarded her like she was an angel sent down from heaven to say nice things to him. Was she misinterpreting that look? She couldn’t be. Complete and total adoration with her bitchyness. Fuck. Hot and into her. She might as well lay on her back and grab her ankles.

He spoke softly. “A lot of this is new to me, too. It’s a very long story. You could come with me to my buddy’s outfitter business. Lots of people around, bright lights, security cameras. We’re not a cult, I swear.” He leaned forward, sincerity stamped on his face. “You’ll be glad you did.”

How could she resist that? She couldn’t. She sighed and softened toward him, even though she didn’t know if it was safe to. “Okay. I’m taking my own car, though.”

Jameson nodded, his voice totally serious as he said. “If it doesn’t work out, the windows on the east side are the lowest to the ground.”

Cora stared at him for a long time, trying to decide what he meant by the statement. Then she gave up and laughed. What difference did it make? Life was funny.

***

The buddy’s outfitter business turned out to be a massive log-cabin-looking building sitting on the banks of the Natanhala River, rapids swirling meatily past the concrete beach where they launched their boats. The Black Bear Outfitting Company. So official. He said something as she got out of her car that sounded something like, ‘Bryce owns it.’ That young, sweet guy owned a place like this? She watched a raft full of people who looked excited and alive launch and quickly get pulled out of her sight downriver, and decided she was coming back for a whitewater trip. Just the air in this part of the forest was exhilarating. She would do it after she was fired maybe, and had nothing to do all day.

Jameson nodded at a massive, hand-carved, hand-lashed raft, with logs that looked as big as sequoias, chained against the building. “Bryce’s baby, that one. He built it himself. Never even read Huckleberry Finn.”

It was gorgeous. The work that had gone in to it? Insane “Shit, Bryce. I forgot about him.” Yeah right. Like that could happen. “Does he know I went out the window?”

Jameson touched her lightly, calling her attention. “Yeah, sorry.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t.

Damnit, she did trust him. It wasn’t his fault Bryce knew she’d made a run for it, but he wasn’t gonna rat someone else out just to make himself look better. He was so hot. Stuffed full of integrity. Had a good job. Older than her. What more could a girl want from a guy? Just a strong tongue and the know-how to use it.

Fuck. A hot, mature, single guy with a job and desirable qualities? A true dating unicorn. Vampires were more likely than unicorns. Shit, by that logic she had to believe him. She shot a discrete look at his left hand, not actually knowing if he was single or not. He gave off a single vibe around her, for sure, but sometimes that didn’t mean shit. No ring. Pitter patter. Stuff it.

Up the painted wooden ramp they went, Jameson breaking into a jog to open the door for Cora. She smiled her thanks as she went in. Manners, too? I’m dead. Buried. Send flowers to NOT A WEAPON, 10 Main street, Five Hills, NC 28713.

Two more seconds and she was gonna pull him into a broom closet and offer him Let’s Start Dating head.

She looked around to distract herself. Inside was like a well-organized, headfirst crash into a ski lodge slash curio shop slash extreme sports outfitting store. Kayaks and mountain bikes hung from the walls, stuffed animals tucked in between on elaborate riggings that made her think of the playground nets children climb up. All predators that she’d seen so far, wolves, bears and mountain lions mostly,. It was an extreme sports mecca with Great Smokies swag and a twitch of rescue.

A big guy, Bryce’s big brother, approached them from a massive handmade front counter. She thought his name was Steel or Clint or something. His biceps looked to be as big around as her thighs, but she couldn’t think of a ladylike way to confirm such a thing. Besides, she was into the older hottie at her side.

The guy smiled at her, but she got the feeling it was one he mostly pulled out for customers. His regular look was more stern. “You came. I’m Flint.”

Flint. Right, Steel. What the fuck had she been thinking? He held out a hand to shake and Cora marveled at the size of it. To her, any guy was big, but Jameson and his buddies all made her feel like a pixie. His meaty grip made her certain he had never met a factory seal he couldn’t break, either through intimidation or force. Maybe just a stern talking-to.

Flint jerked his thumb over his shoulder, down the short hall behind the intricately-carved front counter. “The big guy is in the back.”

Jameson thanked him and down a hall they went, between huge pictures of big man after big man wrestling various sports equipment up or down hills or rivers or mountains. These guys were serious about the outdoors.

Jameson opened the next door and invited her inside what must be a back room. A gym slash training center, maybe. Exercise equipment, tools, workbenches, deflated rafts were everywhere she looked, and a few kayaks hung from the ceiling from long chains.

A shout from their left. “Keeper!”

Carick, the big guy himself, strode toward them. The one who wanted to know if she’d tried to kill anyone.

Jameson stepped between her and Carick. “Jameson.”

Carick dismissed Jameson, stepped around him. “You brought her in.”

Jameson looked like he didn’t want to introduce them, but he had to. “Coralie, this is Carick. Carick, this is Coralie Hamilton. You and her have something to talk about.”

Cora held out her hand. You know, normal human behavior. But Carick wouldn’t take it. Misogynist? Homeschooled? And not the good kind?

Carick looked like he was going to leave it to Jameson, who clearly thought Carick should be the one to tell her. Fuck this. Cora did what she did best and went on the offensive. Maybe she could force someone to accidentally say some shit that made sense.

“So spill, Sasquatch with the homemade haircut. I’m the weapon, I’m a switch. Vampires exist and you’re the guy with answers. Tell me what I need to know to keep me from walking- no, running out of here.” She looked around. “If I’m the weapon, you guys need me, right?”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps you need us.”

Coralie couldn’t hide her startle at that. Her attack on Mitch Garner came back to her in startling detail and before she knew what was happening she was spilling it. Every last horrifying detail, like they belonged in that room.

Carick nodded as she spoke, his eyes far away. Like maybe he wasn’t hearing what she was saying, but instead was living what had happened. Re-living it.

She finished lamely. “And then, ah, my friend came and got me and brought me home. I looked up the guy I tried to kill, found out he was a councilman. I researched his party and found a bunch of freaky shit. So I went to a TOV meeting. You guys saw me there. You said vampire. I perked up. You know, you were there. So what now?”

Carick nodded sharply. Clearly it all made sense to him and the next step was obvious. “We get you in position to kill the councilman and make sure you aren’t interrupted this time.”