Chapter Two

 

 

Tessa Davelos had her keys out and was reaching for the door to the animal rescue when a half-whispered voice burst out behind her: "You said you weren't coming in to work today!"

Tessa jumped and fumbled the keys. It was Melody, she knew, and she'd been friends with Melody for years, but, damn. Girl could sneak. Tessa was always alert walking from the bus stop to the shelter, and she hadn't even had a clue that Melody was there.

She picked up the keys, turned around, crossed her arms, and stared at her friend.

Melody Keegan was the sort of person who went around looking like the "before" in one of those silly makeover movies the two young women had always made fun of, where the girl takes off her glasses and learns how to dress up and knocks the hero over with her bombshell moves. Mel had long, silky black hair, that Tessa had always secretly envied the hell out of (her own hair was mouse brown), and a pale, china-doll complexion. If Mel would learn to stand up straight, find frames that flattered her face more than those tortoiseshell librarian glasses she wore, and realize that draping herself in shapeless gray sweaters did nothing except turn her naturally hourglass-ish figure into more of a pear, she'd be an absolute bombshell ... as opposed to going around looking like Velma from Scooby Doo.

Tessa knew these were not nice thoughts to have about her best friend since high school, but it was a kind of instinctive self-defense mechanism. Mel was a beautiful woman who chose not to be. Tessa knew that she herself was not even pretty. So she'd never bothered trying. She cropped her hair short so as not to deal with it, and she wore shapeless T-shirts to cover up a figure that wasn't even a pear but more of an apple.

And somewhere even deeper down she knew that she shouldn't see it as a competition. It wasn't a competition. It wasn't fair to Mel to think of it that way. But—

But if you don't keep your defenses up, they'll get you.

Whoever they were. Girls in school. Foster families. Everyone. The only person she could trust, the only person she had ever been able to trust, was herself. There was nothing special about her, there never had been, except her ability to dig in her (blunt, practical) fingernails and do what needed to be done.

And in this case, enough was enough.

"I can't not come in to work, Mel," she said, sticking the key into the lock. "You can call in sick to the bookstore if you want. I can't. The animals need to be fed."

"I told you." Mel's whisper managed to make it all the way to a regular tone of voice, which for her was halfway to a shout. "That thing on your door—"

"You mean that?" Tessa asked, pointing to the vandalized corner of the doorframe. Someone had taken a pocketknife and carved a squiggly thing about six inches high, a winged snake-squiggle. It looked like that thing from the medical staff symbol on ambulances.

Melody's pale complexion went even paler. "Yes, I told you, it's a—a mob symbol. They're going to come after you."

"Because I am marked for death by the mob. Oh no. How will I cope." She started to close the door behind her, but Mel stuck a foot in.

"Tessa, I'm serious. Dead serious. These aren't people you want to mess with."

"Yeah, except I've done absolutely nothing to get on anyone's bad side," she said, even as doubt wormed through her. This was such a strange thing to happen, coming mere weeks after that lawyer had contacted her about her parents. What if—

But no. That was sheer paranoia. Her parents had been an ordinary couple who died in a car crash twenty years ago. A perfectly ordinary car crash. She'd had a long time to get used to it.

"Mel, it was some stupid kid with a pocketknife. I'll sand it out when I get a chance."

"No ... it's not ... aargh!" Melody flexed her hands, opening and closing her fists, and when Tessa tried to shut the door, she ducked inside.

"Look, I'm locking the door, see?" Tessa said, snapping the lock before heading down the hall towards the kennels. A chorus of loud, plaintive cat sounds rose to greet her.

"That won't stop them," Mel complained, tagging along at her heels like an annoying kid sister.

"Oh right, because the mob can walk through walls now?"

"You have no idea," Melody mumbled.

"At least make yourself useful and help me feed the cats."

She had become friends with Melody in high school because they were both weird kids. They weren't really into clothes and makeup the way most of the other girls were, but they weren't part of the gay kids' clique, or the art geeks or the motorheads or the nerds. They were just weird in their own way. So they hung around together, and somehow it turned into a permanent friendship that ended up with the two of them working right across the street from each other, Tessa at a cat rescue and Melody at a bookstore.

But there was a lot about Melody that Tessa had never been able to figure out. Having grown up in foster care herself, she couldn't help being envious of Melody having her parents in her life. And she knew Melody had two living (if divorced) parents. But Melody never talked about her family if she could help it. Tessa had only found out Mel had a half-brother from a few random comments over the years, and she'd never met him.

In a lot of ways, it was like Melody wanted to pretend her family didn't exist. At the same time, she didn't act like anything terrible had happened with them. She didn't seem to hate them or act like she'd been abused. She just didn't want to talk about them.

Or maybe it's just that we were never as close as I wanted to think.

But those thoughts never got her anywhere, and there were chores to do. She got out the cans of wet cat food and handed a bag of dry food to Melody.

"Don't you have work to get to?" she asked.

"The bookstore isn't open yet. Anyway ..." Melody fidgeted, fumbling the open top of the bag and nearly spilling kibble all over the floor. "I'm meeting someone and I told him I'd be here."

Tessa raised her eyebrows. "You've got a date? You've got a date and you told him to meet you at a cat rescue?"

"Knock it off, it's not like that."

"Well, if you're gonna be here, then you can clean some litterboxes too."

"Some friend you are," Melody said, with another anxious glance toward the door. "I'm just trying to help."

Her nervousness was starting to make Tessa nervous, and that was going to be transmitted to the cats. She had to get Mel's mind on something else.

"Here, you can pet a kitten. It'll calm you down." Tessa picked up one of the friendliest of the half-grown litter of kittens they were trying to socialize and held it out.

Mel grasped the cat like she was taking a piece of wet laundry. It squirmed, trying to get away. For some reason, animals didn't seem to like Mel; they were nervous around her. It had been that way ever since they were teenagers. Although the way she was holding it certainly wasn't helping.

"Not like that, you have to support its body so it trusts you." Tessa picked up one of the other kittens. "Like this, see? Mel, c'mon, pay attention, it's not like I haven't shown you a thousand times—"

A sudden knock at the door made both women jump, nearly dropping their kittens. Tessa scowled at her friend. It was all Melody's fault, making her this tense. Probably just a shelter volunteer who forgot their keys, or someone who hadn't read their posted hours.

"I'll get it," Melody said quickly, shoving the kitten at Tessa before fleeing down the hall.

"Hey!"

The fact that Mel was now running off to answer the door with no trace of fear made Tessa think there was definitely something going on other than a mob hit (seriously, what even). A surprise birthday party? No, her birthday was some months off. She sighed and looked down at the double armload of squirming kittens Mel had left her with. From the hallway, she heard friendly-sounding voices, Mel and a man. Mel's mysterious friend, she guessed.

As the voices came down the hall, Tessa turned, juggling her armful of kittens. "Say, Mel, if your friend's here, you don't have to stick—around—"

She had never seen this guy before in her life. She definitely would have remembered.

It was like being punched right in the primitive hindbrain, in a way that completely bypassed her conscious mind and went straight to I would climb that like a tree.

He wasn't enormously over-muscled, but he was built, broad shoulders filling out his charcoal-colored shirt, worn with no tie, with a dark jacket over the top. His black hair showed the faintest trace of silver at the temples—she guessed he was in his late thirties or so—and his eyes were gray, stormcloud eyes focused on her with startled intensity.

Inside her chest, it almost seemed as if something unfurled its wings, an odd little tingling flutter.

And here she was, giving this gorgeous guy his first sight of her with an armful of unruly kittens and her hair dried into spikes from this morning's shower, wearing an oversized T-shirt that said ASK ME ABOUT MY CAT HABIT.

"Tessa!" Mel said, oblivious to all of it. "This is my brother Ben. He's going to be your bodyguard for awhile. Because of the—the mob thing?"

Sudden, massive irritation overwhelmed all the conflicting emotions she was feeling. "What the hell, Melody? You didn't think you should consult me about this?"

Ben cleared his throat. Now that Melody mentioned it, Tessa could see the family resemblance, at least in their general coloring: dark hair, gray eyes, a fine, clear complexion. There was a slight echo of Melody in his chiseled features, though much more masculine and less delicate.

"Ms. Davelos—" he began.

"Stop right there, mister." Though she couldn't help noticing what a nice voice he had, a soft tenor with a slightly gravelly undertone. "I don't want a bodyguard. I don't need a bodyguard. I definitely can't afford a bodyguard—"

"Tessa, you're not listening—" Melody began.

"Ms. Davelos, I'm a police officer—" Ben started to say.

"Oh great, you called the cops! Just—what is wrong with you, Melody?" Tessa set the kittens gently on the nearest cat tree; they at least hadn't done anything to annoy her.

"Tessa, just listen!" Melody's voice was almost a wail, at least as close as she ever got. "You're in danger, terrible danger!"

"From what? You keep telling me that, but you won't explain." She glared between the two of them, all too aware that now Mel's hot brother was getting to see her flushed with fury. "If I'm really in danger for some reason, just tell me."

"Dragons," Mel's brother said succinctly. Mel's mouth dropped open. So did Tessa's. "You're in danger from dragons."

"Ben!" Mel burst out.

"As Dad's fond of reminding me, I'm not bound by your rules. You might not be able to tell her, but I can." Ben turned to face Tessa. "Ms. Davelos, you're being hunted by a dragon."

Tessa finally managed to scrape enough of her wits together to say, "Get. Out."

"This is why we don't tell people," Mel told Ben between her teeth in a loud, angry whisper.

"Out! Both of you!" Tessa's eyes stung. She'd thought Melody was the one person who would never engage in stupid grade-school pranks with Tessa Davelos as the butt of the joke. (What's the matter, Pieface? Why aren't you laughing?) That's what she got for trusting someone. For trusting anyone. "Are you the one who vandalized my doorframe too? What kind of game are you playing? Get out!"

Mel flinched away from her, conflict-avoidant to the last, and some slightly calmer part of Tessa told her, through the hot rage, that none of this made sense. Childish jokes weren't Mel's style, and her fear had seemed to be genuine. Why would Mel make Tessa angry on purpose, when Mel hated people being angry with her? Nothing made sense!

So why won't you tell me the truth? Why these stupid lies about dragons?

She moved forward to push Ben toward the door. Instead he caught her hands. He was shockingly strong, though his grip was gentle.

"I know how you're feeling, Ms. Davelos, but believe me, the threat is real."

"Everyone keeps telling me that, but no one will tell me what this threat actually is!" She wrenched her hands to free herself. Ben was definitely strong enough to have kept holding on, but he let go immediately.

"Can we talk?" He kept his voice calm, his hands out with palms open, eyes on her. "Is there a break room or something similar in here? We could have a cup of coffee and discuss this."

"I'll just be going, then—" Mel began in her whispery voice, starting to duck past her brother into the hallway.

Ben's hand shot out and caught her wrist. "Oh no you don't." He turned to her, and Tessa saw a flash of older-sibling irritation in his gray eyes. "If you and Dad are going to involve me in this, you're gonna stick around to help." He turned back toward Tessa, still holding his sister by the wrist. "Ms. Davelos, none of this is your fault. Just hear me out. Let me explain." With another annoyed glance at Mel: "Both of us will explain."

"An explanation would be very nice, yeah." Tessa tried to stop her voice from shaking. She took a couple of deep breaths and held out her armload of cats. "And if you're going to stay, make yourself useful and pet a kitten. Both of you."

The Keegan siblings stared at her, looking very much alike in that instant. Two pairs of wide, startled gray eyes regarded her in disbelief.

"No kitties," Tessa said, "no talkies."

Melody gave a little huff. "Okay ... fine ..." She took one of the kittens, this time trying to hold it as Tessa had showed her. That didn't help; it still tried to crawl out of her arms as usual.

The other one, though, the one Tessa was still holding ...

To Tessa's surprise, it was struggling in her arms, not to get away, but to go toward Ben. He held out a hand, and the kitten scrambled out of her arms and into Ben's. It snuggled up against his chest and started purring.

"Whoa." She glanced over at the one Melody was holding. It was trying to do the same thing, struggling to get out of Melody's arms and crawl onto Ben. "Are you, uh—some kind of natural cat person or what?"

"Something like that." Ben was holding the kitten absently, not paying much attention to it. It didn't seem to care; it snuggled up against him like it had found a long-lost family member.

The high-pitched yowling of the other kittens caught her attention. They were pawing at the wire mesh of their pen, trying to climb through like they, too, wanted to share in some of the petting. Which they'd never done before. They were friendly enough with the shelter workers they were familiar with, but nothing at all like this.

And then she realized the rest of the cats in the room were acting weird, too.

One reason why she'd noticed the yowling of the kittens was because the rest of the cats had become strangely hushed. Some of the younger and newer ones were acting like the kittens, fawning against the front of their kennels, wanting attention—even a couple of ferals who had never made a move toward human interaction before. But most of the rest had settled down cautiously, sitting at the fronts of their kennels, and were staring at Ben.

She'd never seen them react to a new person in the kennel room like this before. The shelter had a couple of volunteers who were especially good with them (and one lady who claimed to be a cat whisperer, although Tessa had never notice any sign that communication was actually taking place). But this was something else. It made the hairs on the back of her arms stand up.

Unlike the cat whisperer, Ben didn't seem to be doing anything to attract the cats' attention. In fact, he looked deeply uncomfortable, like someone who had accidentally wandered onstage and had found themselves the unwilling target of attention from a whole room full of people.

Well ... it would be easier to feed them if they were all calm. Except for the kittens, who were going out of their minds. Tessa opened their kennel door and they spilled out to rub around Ben's ankles.

She might not believe in dragons, but there was still something weird about this guy. Aside from the fact that he was almost supernaturally good-looking. Even covered in kittens. Especially covered in kittens.

"I'm going to go ahead and finish my morning routine before the shelter opens," she said, wrenching her gaze away. "If you two want to talk, follow along and kitten-wrangle. Pick up a can of cat food if you want. But I'm going to be working."

And the mental image of Ben Keegan covered in adorable kittens was definitely not going to be keeping her company while she did that.

Not at all.