CHAPTER FIVE
The phone rang, that shrill "pay attention to me right now" sound she hated. She groaned, rolled over, groped for her cell, and dropped it on the floor. (Happy accident!) She relaxed into the blessed silence, which was broken by a tinny sound.
"Hello? Jane?"
She burrowed under the covers.
"Jane? Are you there? Jane! Hello??"
She cursed her werewolf hearing. Tinny and faint the voice might be, but it was also unmistakable. "What."
"Pick up the phone," her cell commanded. "I want to make sure you're getting all this."
"Can't. Too tired."
"It's six o'clock at night, for God's sake. Pick up the phone!"
She muttered something foul, and obeyed. "Whoever the hell this is, you'd better be on fire."
"It's Moira, and I practically am...the high today was eighty-two. In May!"
"Moira."
"You should see what the humidity did to my hair."
"Moira."
"I look like a blonde cotton swab."
"Moira! This is fascinating, but you sure as shit better not be calling me to babble about your for-Christ's-sake hair. What do you want?"
"It's not what I want," Moira went on in her irritatingly cheerful voice. "It's Michael. The big boss wants to see you on the Cape, pronto."
Finally, the silly bitch had Jane's attention. Her eyes opened wide and she sat straight up in bed like someone who’d heard the fire alarm go off. "Wyndham? Wants to see me? How come? Whatever they said I did? I didn’t." And on the heels of that, a panicked thought: What'd I do? And resentment: Come, girl, good dog, here's a treat for the good doggie.
"Mine is not to reason why, honey...and neither is yours. I suggest you get your ass out here yesterday."
Jane groaned. "Aw, fuck a duck."
“I’d forgotten what a treasure you are when you first wake up. And I'll pass on the duck thing."
"I've got a date. Today." She squinted at her watch. "Tonight, I mean."
"You do?" Moira sounded—rightfully so—astonished. She modified her tone, too late. "I mean, of course you do. Sure. It's only natural, a...a lively and...er...opinionated young woman like yourself. With a date. On a Saturday night. Sure. Great!"
"Cut it out, you're embarrassing both of us." Young woman. Right. Moira was at least ten years younger. Half Jane's size (and weight). Twice the brains. Calling Moira a silly bitch was only half right. And now that she thought about it, another Pack member who’d taken a human to mate. Why was that suddenly a thing? And why was she worrying about that when the boss wanted to see her? And why did the boss want to see her? "I don't need this now. I was gonna feed a vampire.”
“What?”
“Well, a guy who thinks he’s a vampire, anyway. It’s one of the things I need to find out...you don't have any idea what Wyndham wants?"
"Um..."
"Come on, Moira, you and the boss are practically litter-mates.” Close: they were cousins who had grown up together and like many Pack members, went into the family business together. She’d been his assistant for years, and lived with Michael and his family in the mansion the Atlantic Ocean kept trying to take out. (Building on a cliff = dumb idea.) “Spill."
"Let's just say that in his newfound happiness with mate and cub, our fearless leader thinks it's high time you settled down—"
"No, no, no!"
"—and he's met just the right fella for you," she continued brightly. "He's sure you'll hit it off."
"Doesn't our Pack leader have anything better to do than fix me up on yet another blind date?" She could hear the faint tinkling noise as a hairline crack appeared on her cell phone screen and forced her fingers to loosen.
"Of course he does! Which is why you should feel fortunate he’s taken an interest in your romantic life—“
“Gross.”
“—and is trying to help. Now tell the truth,” she coaxed, “the last one wasn't so bad."
"He cried like a third grader when I beat him to the kill." She could still taste the hare, all the sweeter since she’d practically yanked it out of what’s-his-name’s jaws.
"Well, you did hog all the rabbits yourself. Tsk, tsk."
"Figures," Jane grumbled, swinging her legs over and resting her feet on the floor. "The first halfway decent guy I meet in forever, who’s either a predator who can give me a run for my money or a crazy person, either of which would be cool, and the boss wants me to blow him off to meet some new dildo."
"Sorry," Moira said, sounding anything but. "I'll leave the dildo part out when I tell Michael you're on the way. And now, having imparted my message, I'd say something like 'have a nice day', except I know you—"
"Hate that shit." She hung up and resisted the urge to throw the phone against the wall. Damn-damn-dammit!
She'd been so excited about dinner with Dick, she'd had a hard time getting to sleep. She'd finally dozed off near dawn...and slept the entire day away. Now she had to beat feet for the Cape, of all places, and the one time she actually wanted to linger in the city to talk to someone.
This time, she did throw the phone. But it didn't make her feel any better, not even when it self-destructed against the wall.