“Now calm down, Sweetheart.” Lying his hand on her shoulder, the smarmy, slimy, slickster of a crooked Necromancer condescended. “It’s been there longer than you’ve been alive and will be there long after you’re gone. You just need to draw the paperwork I tell you to, go to the court dates we give you, and in the best interest of the Council in all…”
“The best interest of the Council?” Vanessa ground out through gritted teeth, trying not to lose her cool and her mind in a room full of some of the oldest Paranormals alive. “What about the people you’ve thrown into a hole in the middle of the desert and left to die? Am I just supposed to…”
Oh, Darlin’,” Fogarty snickered with his usual arrogance. “Don’t go gettin’ all hysterical.”
“Hysterical?” Celeste snarled, the long, sharp talons of her front paws extended as she lowered her head, lifted her but, and prepared to spring into battle. “Did that ancient Death Talker with a limp just say you were getting’ hysterical? Let me outta here. I’ll show the son of a bitch what hysterical looks like.”
Unable to answer her alter ego, Vanessa was so shocked and utterly appalled that she had to work hard not to swing the fist that was clenched at her side. Opening her mouth to tell Fogarty T. Petersen, III, where he could stick his misogynistic, puffed-up, egotistical, and arrogant attitude, she didn’t even get to take a breath because the old windbag was still yammering on as if he were running for office.
“Arrhythmia is not a death sentence, nor is it a nasty hole in the ground. It’s the last chance for ‘the monsters’…” The asshole literally made finger quotes with the hand that wasn’t grippinghis silver cane as he smiled so snidely that the left side of his handlebar mustache lifted to touch his bony cheek. “…among us, the supernatural malcontents and misfits, who just refuse to follow the rules and get along in the normal world. It is heavily guarded to prevent humans from finding it, and from any of our world to know about it unless we want them to.” Shrugging nonchalantly and sniffing as if he’d smelled something foul, he added, “The only other option was to end their lives, and as you know, that is not always possible.”
“But it is completely unconstitutional. We can’t…”
“We can, and we do, Sweetheart,” Fogarty snapped, the façade of humanity he wore like a cheap suit fading away as his eyes turned a glowing black. “The human government might have recognized us as citizens, but we police our own. Hell, most of the humans still don’t even know we exist.” Taking a threatening step forward, the click of the sharp tip of his silver cane almost shredding the last of her hard-fought control, the asshole had the utter gall to lean down from his six-foot height and tower over her as he warned, “Do your job, Vanessa Bryant, or I’ll find someone who will.”
With her head back so far that her neck hurt from the strain, Vanessa pushed up on her toes with the force and spirit of the Polar Bear Princess that she was. Stopping only when the tip of her nose just almost touched the hook of his, she opened her eyes wide so Fogarty could see she meant business. Then, pushing just enough Magic into her voice that each word would sting the sagging flesh covering his skeletal face, she adamantly declared, “I wouldn’t work for you, or this crooked council if my life depended on it. Find yourself another stooge. This one is outta here.”
Once again, the scene changed.
Sitting beside a campfire with a bottle of water in her hand and Cyrus beside her, Vanessa tried to come up with a way totell the man she loved more than life itself that he was going to be a dad. No, they hadn’t officially said those three little words to one another, but neither had they spent a moment of their free time alone since they met.
They’d had conversations about living in Texas, and at that very moment, he was talking about his home on the Isle of Skye. It was just a shame that she was only about half paying attention as she tried to come up with the words to tell him that she was pregnant.
Of course, there was also the nagging, badgering Polar Bear with whom she shared her soul, who refused to be silent and just had to throw her two cents into the whole conundrum. “Just open your mouth and say the words. You know he’s gonna be thrilled. He’s talked about all the families in his Clan and the other Clans here in the States. Every time he says anything about kids, his eyes light up. Just do it. As soon as you tell him and he gets done kissing you silly, y’all can plan for the future.”
“I know you’re right,” Vanessa agreed. “It’s just that…”
And that was when she heard Cyrus say, “Carrick called today. He needs my help in the search for his brother.” Squeezing her hand, he continued, his Scottish brogue getting thicker with every word. “I have no clue how long it will take, but I promise to…”
“You promise to what?!” Snatching her hand away from his, Vanessa jumped to her feet. Spinning toward him, she slammed her fists onto her hips and kept yelling. “You’re leaving? One minute you’re tellin’ me how awesome the Isle of Skye is, and the next you’re tellin’ me that you’re flyin’ off to parts unknown, and I’m just supposed to be the good, little woman and wait for you?”
“No, I just…”
“You just nothing, Cyrus MacDonald. You just fucking nothing!”
Up on her toes, she spun around, marched toward the front of her house, and jumped into her truck, all the while ignoring Cyrus’s pleading yells for her to come back. Peeling out of the driveway like she was in a race for her life, it wasn’t until she had gotten about five miles from home that she realized what a complete idiot she was.
Speeding up, needing to get up to the Whipple’s farm where she could turn around, Vanessa hadn’t made it more than a quarter mile when Aamon forced her off the road and…
Forcing herself awake sucked, unwilling to take any other twists and turns through her memory, Vanessa inhaled deeply. Slowly exhaling, she took the time to peruse her surroundings- and it was not good news. She was in an even bigger, more ostentatious room than before. It was a new all-time low. The Blackwoods were truly rolling out the red carpet with the hopes she would accept what they thought was her fate and stay with their creepy, deranged family.
“No fuckin’ way,” she huffed under her breath. “They can literally kiss my ass, in the middle of the four-way stop, in beautiful downtown Holly Bush, Tx.”
Turning her head to the side, her gaze landed on the iron bars coated in silver covering the outside of the windows. The bastards already had a plan B. Hand instantly on her belly, she inhaled deeply, calmed her rattled nerves, and sent wave after wave of love to her unborn child.
Breathing a sigh of relief when the babe responded in kind, she finally asked Celeste the question running circles through her mind,“How many freakin’ people have these bitches kidnapped? I mean, we weren’t out long enough for a remodel that included welding, were we?”
“No, I think we were only unconscious for about forty-five minutes.”Blowing out an exasperated breath, she groaned,“And I don’t even wanna think about how many people they’vetrapped in their little Hotel Hell. Just let me outta here, point me in the direction of the Asshole Sisters, and let me take care of the rest.”
“Oh, I'm gonna let you out just as soon as I know they won’t be able to hear or smell you.”
“I. Do. Not. Smell,”Celeste snarled.
Huffing out her own frustrated breath, Vanessa pushed the long dark curls from her face and sighed,“Stop being an idiot. You know what I meant.”
The momentary pause told the whole story. The Polar Bear Princess had not understood what she was saying– and that was a first. No matter how old or how Magical, Celeste had been just as affected by the crappy concoction Angelique had put in their tea as Vanessa– and was having a hard time shaking off the effects.
Before she could explain, there was a bright, white flash of pure Polar Bear Enchantment, and Celeste whooped,“There we go! Now, I’m bright-eyed and bushy tailed.”
