Chapter Ten – Carter

 

How does one tell the woman they’re attracted to that they are, in fact, a man that turns into a bear? Or, maybe, a bear that turns into a man?

That, while large portions of her reality are exactly like she currently believes them to be, there is actually far more below the surface than she could ever imagine? Than even I, someone who had to live and breathe in that world as I defended humans from the darkest elements of it, could ever imagine?

And now, as Lucy looked up at me with those big, expressive eyes of hers, it was like a solid slug of silver punching through my sternum and steadily making its way to my heart.

I know what Col. Harrington would have told me to do in this situation. “Lie,” he would have said. “Lie, and lie, and lie some more. Tell her enough so she’ll help you, but no more. It’s for her safety, and yours.”

I could just tell her I worked for the government, I reasoned. That I was with the FBI, on an undercover operation as a private investigator. That Phillip Winters and his crew were domestic terrorists. No, wait, international terrorists. He was Irish, after all, and now from parts all over. That was about as international as it came.

But, no, I knew I couldn’t lie about this. Not to her. She was too good, too smart. She’d see through my bullshit, and call me on it. Besides, I had no amount of evidence to back the claim up. It would still just be my word she needed to trust, and one look at her told me that trust was already running thin.

I ran a hand down my face again, scratching in irritation at my beard. Why did it always have to annoy me at times like this?

And Lucy just continued to look at me, her arms now crossed as her eyes began to narrow. “I’m waiting,” she reminded me. “I know there’s more to this than you’re letting on. And you need to tell me, or we’re through. I won’t give you any backup with the cops, and I won’t even think of letting you look at my files. You’re on your own if you don’t want to let me in.”

Pushing off from the credenza, I began to pace back and forth.

No, Col. Harrington was wrong. In this, and in some other things, too. Lying wasn’t going to be the best option here.

I stopped on my third round, went to say something. To just tell her. To give her the lowdown on the demons, vampires, shifters, and creatures from myths and legends that all continued to stalk the earth. That they’d been here before, and they’d continue to be here for a long time.

And that, worst of all, I was one of them.

Her eyes had continued to follow me back and forth across the room, and she was still looking at me with that no-bullshit glare of hers.

I promptly shut my mouth, shook my head, and went back to pacing. I mean, who wants to sound like a nut job, even when they know they’re sane?

What was I going to do? Show her my bag of tools as proof?

And then Sam Fitzgerald’s voice seemed to speak to me from across the miles. “Just fucking show her, you dipshit.”

“The bag?” I asked inside my own mind.

“No, you dumbass. Your other self. If she can’t handle it, she can’t handle it. No amount of time is going to change that.”

“No amount of time is going to change how she handles it?” I thought at Sam. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the detective,” Sam said with that easy grin of his. “Figure it out.”

“Great,” I thought. “Thanks.”

But, he was right. I needed to just show her. Needed to just lay it out on the line, to put everything out there. I knew she could handle it, too.

The question was, could I?

I stopped in my tracks, slowly turning to Lucy. “Okay,” I said as I took a deep breath.

“Okay what?”

“I’m going to tell you,” I said, as I walked over and looked down at her. “But, first, I need you to go into the bathroom and wait in there for a few minutes.”

Eyebrows raised, she grinned a little grin at me as she looked up at me through her eyelashes. “You’re joking. Right?”

I shook my head. “Lucy, this is important. You trust me, right?”

“I think we covered this.”

I sucked in a slow breath and nodded. “Well, I figured I still have a little bit of that trust capital left, right?”

She smiled, which in my experience was always a good sign. “A little,” she said, holding up her thumb and index finger, fractions of an inch apart, in front of her face. “But just.”

I knew I should have laughed, because it was kind of cute. But, instead, all I could do was soberly nod. “Then, please, just go into the bathroom. What’s the worst that can happen? Me running away, rather than telling you what you need to know? That wouldn’t help either of us.”

“It would if you took my briefcase with you.” She reached up, brushing a long strand of hair from her face. God, she was beautiful. And she seemed to be getting more gorgeous with each second she stood her ground against my lies and misinformation. “Then you’d have exactly what you want, wouldn’t you?”

Not exactly, I admitted to myself, but didn’t say. “Take it in with you. I promise, I’ll be out here.”

She bit her lower lip as she looked away from me.

I pressed on. “Lucy, you’re right. I’m not a very good fire investigator,” I said. “But my skills as a fire investigator aren’t why I’m here. I need you if I’m going to fix what’s going on.”

Lucy turned her attention back to me. “You serious?”

I nodded. “Absolutely. I’m not going to get through this without you. And, on top of that, I think you might be in danger, as well. The last victim was a firefighter, wasn’t he?”

She blinked slowly, the reality of what I’d just said sinking in. “Do you think so? Do you really think so?”

“What if whoever is doing this is going after the people trying to stop it, too?”

“You can’t really think that…”

“That’s the thing,” I replied. “I can’t be sure of anything. I just know I need your help. And you need mine, if we’re going to make sure no one else is hurt.”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” She went to pick up her soft-sided briefcase, to take it with her to the bathroom, but then seemed to think better of it. She gave me a look as she let it drop back to the mattress. “I’m trusting you.”

I gave her a half smile. “Thank you. And, believe me, I’m trusting you, too.”

A second later she was up off the bed and into the bathroom, the door silently shutting behind her with a kind of austere finality. There was no turning back now. Not if I wanted her continued cooperation.

Meanwhile, I was still out by the bed, trying to decide if I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. Of course, with this mistake, there was only one way to find out if it really was one. Either she’d accept me for what I was, and continue to work with me on this case, or I really would be on my own.

I pulled my fresh shirt back over my head, threw it down next to her briefcase, and began to unbuckle my jeans.

Sometimes, the only way forward is through the problem. And, sometimes, the only way to find out if you can move forward through the problem is to just try.

To just cross your fingers…and hope for the best.