The Bend-Bite-Shift Box Set Page 40

  The driver to her right must have gotten nervous because that car dropped back, giving Gerry enough room to get by. She didn’t hurry. Instead, she took her time switching lanes, refusing to look left at the truck as he sped past her.

  “I Hate Everything About You” by Three Days Grace was next on the radio station as she eased her Mustang to a stop at a red light. She checked herself in the mirror, brushing her fingers through her brown locks. Her eyes glanced to the side and she did a double take when she saw the same red truck beside her. The driver was staring at her, a strange smirking frown on his face.

  The new guy. Nicky was his name. She mouthed an expletive to him and then faced ahead. After a moment she flicked her eyes back in his direction. He was still looking at her, only this time he smiled and winked. Her loins went liquid. Damn he’s sexy, she thought.

  Suddenly Gerry’s head slammed back against the headrest and her car peeled ahead at full speed. Dazed, she looked down to see her foot still on the brake, but the car zoomed forward. A laugh startled her, and she looked to the passenger seat to see Dysis sitting with one leg bent up to her waist so that her hands rested between her thighs.

  “He is sexy, isn’t he?” her sister spoke.

  Before Gerry could respond, the car went airborne as her vehicle slammed through the guardrails of a bridge and sailed toward the river below. Just before impact, the windows rolled down on their own accord, causing the water to rush in as the car sank into the river.

  Her hands fumbled with her safety belt but it wouldn’t unlatch. Her eye caught movement to her right and she saw Dysis floating in the water, green eyes glistening, with a wily smile on her red lips. Gerry tried to speak, reaching and pleading with her sister for help, but instead Dy just floated away, leaving her to be swallowed by the black depths of the river.

  ~oOo~

  After his meeting with Pete, Nicky spent a good portion of his morning shopping. He purchased Gerry a short flowing dress that would be loose and comfortable but would also look beautiful on her. It was something she wouldn’t have bought for herself, but throughout their relationship he’d continually given her feminine things. She always fussed about them, but in the end she never failed to slip into them and model for him. His shopping trip also included a stop at a drug store to gather toiletries and any other essentials they needed.

  Now, back at the apartment, he filled a plastic tub with warm water and placed it carefully on a stool beside the bed. Slipping her arms through the sleeves of her blue dress, he rolled the material down her body and past her feet. Her underthings came next, and he took a moment to caress the silky bra and panties before discarding them into a pile on the floor.

  Using a rag to moisten her skin, he gently started at her shoulder, going down to her fingertips. After placing the rag back in the tub, he lathered his hands to make them soapy and warm since her skin was so cool to the touch. He was glad for the gentle, soothing scent and thankful for the pharmacist who offered up advice when he saw him staring blankly at the toiletries aisle in the drug store. When Nicky asked what would be best for his wife, recently injured with a broken pelvis and unable to shower, the pharmacist readily recommended the baby wash as it wouldn’t leave residue. He almost felt bad for lying to the man, but it wasn’t like he would understand their situation.

  He started with her shoulder and slowly rubbed the soap along her arm. She made no movement. Her body seemed to be in a complete stasis; sliding the wet rag along her cold skin didn’t even raise goosebumps.

  Massaging down that arm and into the palm of her hand, he watched her fingers gently roll with the manipulation of skin. Still slick with soap, he lifted that hand to his cheek and pressed her softness to the stubbly skin on his face. A long moment passed as he held her hand tight to him, wishing it would grow warm and move with life. He swallowed back the panic that continued to grow in his gut before he held her hand out so he could place a gentle kiss to each fingertip.

  He washed every inch of her body and cherished each touch. His eyes devoured her magnificence, admiring her curves and tiny freckles peppered here and there. He touched each scar or mark on her skin and regretted not knowing where each of those marks came from. He wondered why he’d never asked.

  She was breathtaking and perfect to him. She always failed to see herself as he did. Her powers allowed her to glamour into any form or shape. None of the other “women” she became could compare to the real Gerry–his Gerry.

  “You remember the last time we were here in N’Orleans?” he spoke as he lathered more soap in his hands. “Damn, you hate it here. Why the hell did I bring you to this place?”

  He had been looking for a way out of the French Quarter when Gerry recruited him. At that time he knew he was a dhampir, but he didn’t really have a perspective on what that meant or what he could do with his abilities. His “old man” was a nasty French vampire who liked to return to New Orleans once every few hundred years. It was a sort of ritual for him to come back to the place where he was changed, or so his mother Darlene told him.

  She didn’t have a lot of information about the man who fathered him, although as far as she knew, Nicky was his only progeny. It wasn’t every day that a vampire managed to impregnate a human, which made Nicky all the more rare as a paranormal. Rare didn’t necessarily mean admired or liked, so for most of his younger years he hid from his true nature. The idea of being an outsider to both the human and the paranormal realm wasn’t all that appealing.

  He was faster and stronger than ordinary people. He could tell immediately if a person was vampire just by a foggy signature surrounding their hearts. Darlene always said it must be the sign of the vampire’s missing soul. He didn’t know about that, but her attitude let him build up a healthy dislike for bloodsuckers.

  His mother left New Orleans with a new lover when he was almost seventeen. She told him she wanted to take him with her, but he could tell it was just a half-hearted offer. She was tired of being a mother and frankly he was tired of taking care of her.

  By the time his beautiful Gerry arrived about eight years later to offer him a place with the Company, he jumped at the idea. At that time he was tired of scraping together a life in New Orleans. He wanted more.

  And I got a whole lot more when I got her, he thought to himself as he sighed and continued. “I know you think this place brings out the worst in me, makes me want to go back to that thug I used to be, but it’s different this time. With you, I’m different…” He shrugged as if she could see the movement then shook his head. “Yeah, I know you probably can smell it on me. I’ve only had a couple of cigs, I promise. Damn, baby, I need you to wake up. I’m lost without you, and we have to figure out what’s happening. Can’t you hear me? Can’t you give me some sign you hear?”

  Nicky paused with her ankle in one hand and the other on the inside of her thigh. His thumb rolled along the arch of her foot in just the way he liked to do when giving her a foot massage. She was terribly ticklish and should have been squirming and squealing. He waited, examining her face, her eyes, her hands for some signal. He waited for what to him was an eternity, but nothing happened—just her steady, shallow breathing and her twitching eyes.

  “So, we needed a place to stay and we don’t have any of our stuff here. Pete–you remember Penny-Pete–well, he told me about this place. You know with him there’s always a price, so I gotta do a job in a few days... Unless you wake up. If you wake up we’ll get the hell out of here and find Kent and the others. Or we’ll call the Company and they’ll pull us out. I know you don’t want me working here again, so c’mon and let’s snap you out of this spell you’re under.”

  Getting no response to his pleas, he finished sponge bathing his wife and felt around on the floor beside the bed for her clutch purse. She kept a small bottle of her favorite lotion in one of the pockets. He tapped a handful into his palms so that he could slather it over her body. He spent extra time rubbing and kneading her hands, something he loved to do fo
r her first thing in the morning.

  Finally he slipped the dress over her limp body, fumbling a bit as he contorted her lifeless arms through the holes. The summer frock was light and airy, the material clinging to the damp spots of her skin and accentuating her curves.

  He admired her again, unable to help the stir of yearning elicited by the sensual garb. A heavy sigh passed his lips as he tucked her securely into the bed. He took a moment to smooth her hair with his hand, tracing a finger around her ear and then down the line of her jaw. His heart ached for her to speak. The stillness of her body horrified him. Death seemed to be hanging over her like a pall.

  ~oOo~

  “What?” Nicky started awake when he heard a sharp pounding on the apartment door. He lurched from the bed and unsheathed the blade attached to his belt. There was another set of hard raps to the door. He looked down at Gerry. Still the same, he thought with sadness.

  With a knife held loosely at his side, he approached the window and held the curtain back so he could peek outside. “Aw, mother…” the expletive died on his lips as he snatched his head away from the glass.

  New Orleans’ finest stood just on the other side of the door. One uniformed cop gazed cautiously around him while his partner stood near their patrol car at the curb. Panic overtook him. He was no stranger to trouble, but he was a runner. Sneaking out the back window was the surest exit, and his mind instinctively issued a warning for him to go there.

  Gerry was a problem. He couldn’t move her, and he couldn’t sit still and hope the cops went away, because they might be insistent enough to force entry. He would have to try to talk his way out of this.

  Which brought up another quandary—what was “this”? Were they there because he was a trespasser in the apartment? Was it the stolen car he’d stashed in a lot on Jackson Square? Was it something to do with Penny-Pete?

  Tousling his hair and pulling his t-shirt partially out of his pants to look even more disheveled, he rubbed his eyes hard and then opened the door a few inches. He yawned and scratched his belly while he eyed the policeman through narrow eyes.

  “Hey, officer. What can I do for you?”

  “Good afternoon. Could you step outside, sir?”

  Nicky yawned again for good measure. Smiling, he stepped out of the apartment and closed the door after him. “Yes, sir. How can I help you?”

  “You look at little tired, sir. Are you just waking up?”

  A nervous laugh. “Yeah, well, you know how it is here in the Quarter… Late nights and all.”

  “What time did you get to sleep last night?”

  “Ew. Uhm, I really don’t know. I just sort of stumbled home and crashed.” He grinned. “There were these two girls last night and I pretty much came home when I ran out of money. Damn, those fruity drinks the ladies like are expensive.”

  The officer smiled, and Nicky sighed, hoping the cop was buying his story.

  “So you didn’t hear anything, say around 3:00 this morning?”

  “Fuck no… oh, sorry. I mean, heck no. I was out cold by then. Why, did something happen?”

  “There was an incident across the street. A lady got beaten up pretty badly, and we were hoping maybe you saw something.”

  Scratching his stomach again, Nicky relaxed. “Geez, I wish I had. Is the lady okay? Do you have any leads?”

  Immediately the expression on the cop’s face indicated reservation. It seemed he wasn’t interested in giving away any information about the ongoing investigation, and that was just what Nicky was counting on. After a few more questions, the officer shook Nicky’s hand and headed down the steps and back to his waiting partner.

  “Geez, stop wiggling and sit still!” Nicky huffed, placing both hands on her shoulders and shoving her back into her seat.

  Gerry plopped into the wooden chair with enough force to make the air whoosh from her lips. “Get it over with then. Hurry!”

  He slapped her hand when she raised it with clawed fingers to scratch the welted skin on her neck, and he smirked at her when she growled in response. Her eyes met his, and he winked as he lifted a calamine-coated cotton swab to her skin. She closed her eyes, shaking her head in annoyance while he finished dabbing the stuff all over her face, neck, arms, and chest.

  “If you hadn’t rushed off in such a hurry to tackle that werewolf, you wouldn’t have ended up rolling in a patch of poison ivy. Too bad you can’t heal yourself. And we won’t catch back up with the team until day after tomorrow, and then Langston can help.”

  Gerry ignored him, refusing to open her eyes and look at him.

  “There. Feel better?” he asked, snapping the top closed on the calamine and tossing it onto the bed.

  “Not especially.” She muttered the response under her breath as she approached the mirror and flicked her nose to engage her magic. The pink splotches began to disappear, and her complexion smoothed back to normal.

  “Hey, hey, that’s against rules.”

  She knew what rules he meant. They had an agreement that she wouldn’t use her magic to alter her looks when they were alone together. It took him a while to beg that promise from her because she was much more comfortable when she could smooth and cover the blemishes she saw in her appearance.

  Gerry flashed her brown eyes at him. “The rules don’t apply in this situation. I’m still me.”

  Nicky came up behind her and placed his hands around her waist, his lips close to her ear. “You’re acting like a baby.” He skimmed his fingers along her ribs. She yelped and wriggled to get away from him, but he held her fast. The angry scowl on her face dissolved into a wide smile.

  “Stop it!” She laughed, biting his arm and then kissing the spot.

  “Reverse the spell. I want to see you. Spotted and all.”

  She complied, twitching her nose until the pink dots appeared again all over her exposed skin. “Satisfied?” she queried, leaning her head back for a kiss. He obliged, smacking her lips and then releasing her.

  “Yep, satisfied. Now settle down, woman, and I’ll head out to grab us some munchies.”

  She watched him from the corner of her eye as he grabbed the keys from the nightstand. As he passed behind her, he smacked her rear-end with a wink and exited the hotel.

  “Ugh!” Gerry muttered as she turned her head left and then right, examining her blotchy skin in the mirror over the sink in their small hotel room bathroom. She was thinking she looked like a pink spotted leopard, but as she moved in for a closer look, her image reflecting back began to change. Her skin and the details of her face melted away like warm candlewax to reveal a pair of jade-green eyes she knew entirely too well. The rest of Gerry’s reflection faded, revealing a grinning Dysis with one eyebrow raised in malice.

  “I think we’re getting somewhere,” her sister said through the mirror. “That one,” she flicked her chin at the door through which Nicky had exited a few moments earlier, “is important to you, isn’t he? Maybe he’s the key to helping me find what I want.”

  Gerry wanted to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t move. She heard a noise to her right as the shower turned on full-blast. Her body was forced closer to the steaming spray, and before she knew it she was falling backwards into the bathtub. Her head banged against the porcelain and stars formed in her vision. The hot water poured in sheets across her face and mouth as she fought to breathe and fight the darkness until she finally slipped into unconsciousness.

  ~oOo~

  Hours later Nicky woke up on top of the blankets beside Gerry, one arm wrapped around her waist as if to protect her from something. He placed his palm flat on her chest between her breasts and shook her gently but she didn’t move. With a heavy sigh he got up and carried the now cold tub of water to the bathroom to pour it out.

  It was turning dark outside, and when he glanced out the window, he saw the crowds gathering steam on the streets. All the kids were already out getting plastered, going on vampire tours, and getting their futures told.

  “Maybe you’d
like some soup?” he said to Gerry as he turned back to her. “I could get you some hot soup, maybe some gumbo. Would you like that?” Without waiting for the answer he knew wasn’t going to come from her lips, he tugged his boots back on and grabbed his jacket.

  His steps were quick and loud as he stomped down the steps out of the duplex. His distraction was so strong that he nearly missed what would normally have been obvious to his sharp, trained mind. People were bustling to and fro, drinks in hand and stumbling with intoxication. It created a dizzying effect, but in the middle of all that throng of movement was a single person standing still and staring up at the duplex he had just exited.

  He crossed the street without thinking, stepping in front of a passing car and flicking his hand at the driver in annoyance when the man laid on his horn. The short little woman barely reacted when he came to stand in front of her, looming above her very small stature.

  She was unremarkable in looks: smooth, dark complexion, black eyes, hair short against her scalp. She wore loose multicolored pants that were more like pantaloons and an equally baggy black tunic. She refused to look at him, just kept those black-on-white eyes directed on the apartment door.

  “‘Something wicked this way comes.’”

  Nicky might have laughed if his emotions weren’t so harried at that moment. Her voice was high-pitched with a mousy squeak. And for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why the crazy woman was quoting Shakespeare.

  “People love when I do that. They just eat it up when you quote stuff like that,” she told him, finally turning her eyes to him with a grin. “But dramatic as it sounds, it’s true, isn’t it? There’s something wicked going on in that room.” She nodded her head to point to the apartment.

  “Who are you?” Nicky asked, and it sounded like a growl.

  She didn’t answer but instead grabbed his hand before he could snatch it from her reach. She traced the lines on his palm with a pointed fingernail, hissing through widely spaced front teeth.