Chapter 26

Cora came awake all at once, the sound of bells following her from dream to reality. It took her a moment to realize the sound was her phone, charging on her nightstand. She scrambled across the king-sized bed to grab it.

Shady Pines College, the caller ID read. Her fingers lost their ability to grip and she dropped the phone, cold fear filling her.

She tried to get herself under control. Her tenure hearing was the next day. Someone might be calling to… remind her. Or to change the time! Yes!

She answered with a shaky, “Hello?”

“Cora.”

Dean Aulander’s normally light voice was deadly serious. She was so fired. She should just hang up and run. Take her savings, head to the Caribbean, and… what? Become a pirate? Were there vampires on the high seas?

“Bertha,” she whispered.

“You can call me Dean Aulander.”

Oh God. So bad. Fired, and shunned.

“Cora, don’t bother coming in tomorrow. Or next semester. You’ve been relieved of your classes.”

Cora could only nod. “Ok.”

There was a moment of silence, and when Bertha spoke again, her voice was just a bit softer. “Is it drugs, Cora? That nice young man seemed to-”

“No! I swear. I-” But how could she possibly explain it? She tried to negate it instead. “I swear it won’t happen again.” But could she swear such a thing?

It didn’t matter anyway. Bertha’s voice was cold again. “Thank you for your years of-”

Cora hung the phone up silently, cutting Bertha’s words off. She couldn’t handle them. She stared at the wall. What to do now? Go for a run? But this felt too big for even the pavement to take. She needed someone to talk to. A shoulder to cry on.

Lynessa was at work and Cora didn’t want to call the college. Plus she’d been avoiding Lynessa a little bit. It felt wrong to keep the vampire stuff from her, but Cora couldn’t tell anyone. Only Jameson would understand.

Oh! Jameson. She could talk to him. She’d thrown a fit the day before, but she would apologize for that. He would understand. She could get over herself. Cora grabbed her keys and hurried out the door, not sure where she was going, but the Black Bear Outfitting Co. would be her first stop.

On the way there, Cora felt that tingling feeling on the back of her neck again, as if someone was watching her, like she had a few days ago in her own house. Probably just vampires, she joked to herself, her internal voice shrill.

But as far as she could see, no one followed her.

A woman Cora hadn’t yet met was running Black Bear’s store when she arrived. She was older, with glossy black hair and kind brown eyes, and the tag pinned to her campesina blouse said her name was Molly. Cora introduced herself and asked Molly if she knew where to find Jameson. Neither Bryce nor Flint were there; one brother was out on the river with a tour group and wouldn’t be back until almost sunset, the other was out doing his own thing.

Molly looked at Cora for a long moment, her hair falling from its center part to either side of her round, tan face. Cora realized her own face was probably tracked with tears when the older woman clucked her tongue, tilted her head to the side, and said, “Why don’t you check J’s house, honey? He lives right over the city limits on Sycamore Road.”

Cora smiled weakly. “Right. That won’t be strange or inappropriate. Thank you.” Shit, her mouth was a bitch.

In ten minutes she was there, parking behind Jameson’s work truck. A tricked-out black SUV with chrome wheels occupied the driveway on the other side, two motorcycles parked behind it. She wasn’t sure why they caught her eye.

The yard was spare but well-maintained. Whoever lived in the other half of the building had hung birdfeeders in the trees and window boxes full of yellow flowers and greenery from their porch railing. Jameson’s side was very nearly bare. Only a rustic Adirondack chair took up any space on the clean-swept concrete porch.

Before she could talk herself out of it Cora rang the doorbell, trying to hold herself together. As soon as he answered the door, she felt better. She took a deep breath and smiled at him.

He was surprised as hell to see her, not saying anything, just rubbing the back of his head and scowling slightly, then giving up and smiling. Ahhh, that sexy smile. She hated it.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Sorry to show up like this but I went to your office and then to Black Bear and met Molly and she told me I should just check here to see if you were home and I saw your truck and well… here I am.”

Jameson only stared, one eyebrow raised. Then he spoke. “What’s wrong?”

Ah shit. Now Cora didn’t want to tell him. No idea why. Maybe because then he would feel sorry for her, let her in, and she wouldn’t be able to trust anything that might happen. She wanted to be let in for other reasons only. She pulled herself together. “I wanted to apologize for acting like a baby last night.”

Jameson cleared his throat awkwardly, then softened. “Would you like to come in?”

Where your bedroom is? Yes! “I would, thanks. I’ve had a day.” He stepped aside and she couldn’t quite read him.

She could read his place though. Dark, sturdy furniture with lots of Mission-style accents, simple lines and minimal fuss. Clean. No dust or scuffs. Like a housecleaner had come that morning. Or he was fastidious.

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Tell me about it.”

“Yeah,” she breathed, but she couldn’t get the words out. He peered at her face, then invited her in for real. He motioned to a back door. “Come on out to the patio, it’s cool out there and we can talk.”

Jameson stayed inside, his frame taking up most of the doorway. “I’ll get us some drinks.” He slid the door shut and left her there alone.

He’s still touchy. And he has a right to be. She rolled her eyes. Don’t we all. She sank into a lawn chair and stared at the high fence that separated one side of the duplex from the other, examining the oasis of deep green plants, with a path that wound in a short circle around the center and spokes veering off into a handful of smaller garden scenes.

She got up and moved to a tiny stone bench she’d spied near the fence. Adorable. Stone fairies flanked it, like dainty guardians.

Someone spoke from the other side of the fence, a gruff male voice. Older.

“Switches? You’re sure?”

Cora froze, her heart thudding, knowing she shouldn’t listen but unable to make herself move away. They were talking about her, even if they didn’t know it.

The voice that replied was familiar. Flint, she was pretty sure, though she’d barely spoken with him. “One hundred percent. Seen one. They’re out there and we need them. As many as we can, as fast as we can.”

The gruff old male spoke again. “That’s the best damn news I’ve heard in fifty years, son. Been itching for a fight for decades. Can’t fight vampires without the switches. Unless you’re the mountain man.”

Mountain man? She wasn’t sure whether the moniker was creepy or campy.

A new voice spoke up. Male, adult, but younger than Flint, she thought. “You can have the fight, Buck, I’m itching for a switchin’. Y’all think what they say is true? About after?”

The one he’d called Buck replied, his voice a sure drawl. “’A course it is.”

A smile entered the younger male’s voice. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Some of that Prowl sex. I’d help a switch hunt damn near anything if what they say about the Prowl is true. Vampires. Sasquatch. The Loch Ness monster. We could fuck for days in a cabin in the woods.”

Coralie’s heart skipped a beat or three. Prowl sex? Dammit, she knew killing vampires would come with a fucking downside. Unless it was with Jameson.

Flint spoke. “Jesus, you and Bryce both. It’s not like you’re guaranteed. Carick says the switch chooses her mate.”

Buck let out a coughing sort of laugh. “Their mate, sure. But we’re talking about the Prowl. If you’re there when a switch kills a vamp, and there aren’t any more left to kill, I heard it’s fuck her blind or follow her around and clean up the human bodies.”

And I’m out. Cora shot to her feet and tore through the lush garden, ripping open the sliding glass door and darting through the kitchen, past Jameson with his look of confusion and out the front door. She dashed to her car and fumbled the keys, dropping them as she tried to unlock the doors.

Prowl. Sex. Prowl sex. Human bodies.

She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t.