Business With Pleasure (Empathy in the Preternatural PNW Book 2) Page 19

  I tucked my phone into my pocket as I slid out the van door to the ground. Looking around to make sure there wasn't a crying werewolf or wayward succubus around, I shut the door as silently as I could and then started walking toward Mel’s SUV. I wasn’t exactly nervous, but I was aware that Chloe and Owen had guns and that I didn’t know anything about guns other than that they could put holes in people. The warehouse was across a narrow road from where I was, but bullets went through walls and across roads, right?

  Why did the bullet cross the road? To embed itself into my sternum, my nerves insisted.

  I got to the SUV and peered in through the driver’s side window. The back windows were all heavily tinted, but the front three were clear as day. The vehicle looked familiar, but Mel didn’t keep too many distinguishing items inside, last I remembered. Maybe that nice stereo was standard and this car had nothing to do with Mel. Maybe I was just being silly, working out something to distract me from Stan’s peril.

  Trying the door on a whim, I made a happy sound when I found it was open. I climbed inside, scaled the massive, center console, and tried the glove box. It was locked. No registration clues, it seemed, but when I looked into the back of the car, I realized it had to belong to Mel.

  The whole back—flat without its last two rows of seats—was made up like a fancy hotel bed. There was even a shiny gold box tucked behind the driver’s seat, with little foil-wrapped chocolates inside.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” I said to myself, reaching down to grab two (make that four—ah, five). I sat in the passenger seat of Mel’s car, staring out the front window at the side of the warehouse, pondering what this could mean. The only possible explanation I could come up with was that Mel was Mated to the succubus.

  I was three chocolates into my haul before I realized that, should Chloe come back to find me missing, I was going to be in big trouble. I could worry about the implications of having Owen kill Mel’s future wife from the safety of the van, and I wouldn’t have to worry about getting yelled at by Chloe if she found me gone.

  “Gwen!”

  I heard my name as I dropped out of Mel’s car and guilt flooded in. Chloe is childless, so her angry voice isn’t exactly a mom-voice, but it’s a pretty good approximation. Like being punched in the gut with, versus without, brass knuckles: they both get the job done but one is just a bit more effective.

  “Sorry!” I yelled, closing the SUV door and running toward the van. Chloe’s head snapped around, and her eyes were murderous. I noticed very clearly, in that moment, that she still had her gun out, pointed at the ground. She glanced about before gesturing to me with her empty hand.

  “Let’s go!”

  I felt my shoulders hunch. I hadn’t snuck out to go do drugs in a park; I’d just done a little inspection of a friend’s car. As soon as she could reach me, Chloe grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the open side door of the van. When I got close enough, I saw Stan propped against the inside wall, bound and gagged. His expression behind the swath of tan cloth was mild, his emotions a babbling brook of confusion, disappointment, and faint distress.

  “What—“

  “Get in, we’re getting him safe before she comes back.”

  “Before—“

  “Get in!” Chloe snapped, shoving at me. She shut the side door on me before I was completely through, and I had to yank my ankle away from its guillotine-like slam. Righting myself, I looked over to find Owen in the driver’s seat and Chloe buckling herself in where I'd been. When we’d started moving, Chloe turned to look me over. She was not pleased with me.

  “What were you doing? We told you to stay in the van!”

  “I was just looking at—“

  “Your holes! Don’t you remember what he said about your holes and how you don’t want any more of them?”

  “Yes!” I insisted. Chloe took a deep breath and shook her head. I’d never seen her this anxious before, and that included when she’d been thrown through the air like a softball by an angry demon. “I’m sorry.”

  The van hit a bump and I nearly toppled, catching myself with my left arm on Stan’s outstretched leg. I glanced over, and something pulled my eyes to his crotch. Despite the fact that absolutely no lust, desire, or arousal was present in his psyche, he had an erection. It wasn’t just a passing thought, either; his penis was committed to the cause.

  “What were you doing?” Chloe asked, actually expecting an answer this time.

  “Ah,” I cleared my throat, tore my eyes away from Stan’s pants, and then turned to her. Stan remained quiet next to me and I wondered if I should un-gag him. “Mel’s car is—was there. I wanted to see if he was in it.”

  “Mel’s car?” Chloe asked.

  “Yeah, I think he might’ve been here for Norma.”

  “Mel the werewolf?” Owen asked, taking a turn less gently than I would have liked. I slid a bit, felt my shoulder squish against the wall of the van, and realized I was still palming two candies. I tucked them into my back pocket and then crawled to Stan, sitting on my heels next to him.

  “Yes, the werewolf,” Chloe said, turning to point at a street sign. “Turn—”

  “I got it, I know where we’re going.”

  Suspicion sliced out of Chloe toward Owen, but her expression remained blank, leaving him unaware of it. When she didn’t ask him to clarify, I continued.

  “Yeah, it was his car. I tried calling him but he was just crying some more and—“

  Owen let out a laugh that startled us all. It was a bark of noise, an explosion of humor that tapered off into an uncoordinated guffaw. Chloe frowned at him but she was starting to feel pretty amused herself.

  “What am I missing?”

  “You’re saying Mel got whammied,” Chloe explained. “If we don’t get it fixed soon, it could get very bad.”

  “I’m saying what?”

  Owen continued to chuckled and Chloe shook her head as she sighed, but they didn’t answer. Deciding that could wait, I looked back to Stan. He turned to meet my eyes and I cocked my head as I frowned at him. His psyche was still dominated by the same emotional cloud, but something in there was off. I leaned close like I was going to kiss him, but he just watched me, his eyes crossing a bit. Owen spoke as I inspected Stan’s strange emotions.

  “When a succubus feeds for keeps it either kills its prey—in the case of humans—or leaves its mark. A werewolf has enough energy to feed a succubus a few times over, so if they’re fed upon deeply enough, they get sort of stained.”

  I was listening, mostly, but still watching Stan. He was sgagged, so he said nothing, just watching me curiously. There was something there I couldn’t place, but it wasn’t him. It was jerky and unpleasant and made me feel like I had grabbed a handful of tiny bugs, which were trying to escape the prison I’d made for them of my palm. I pulled back and realized I recognized that undercurrent.

  “Do humans get stained?” I asked, still watching Stan. He lifted a brow and tipped his head as if he was fully invested in the conversation, unbothered by not being able to chime in.

  Chloe looked between the two of us and then at Stan. “Is he already marked?”

  “I’m not sure what it is but I recognize it from Mel. There’s something here that’s not Stan. Mel’s emotions are defective, like they’re shorting out. This…jumpy feeling is there, too, but with Mel, it’s worse. It’s different.”

  “Norma,” Owen said. I nodded but scrunched my face up into a scowl as Stan’s emotions perked up. He tried to speak through the gag and I reached around the back of his head to untie it. When he was free he spoke.

  “Is Norma around? Are we going to see her? I’d like to see her.”

  “Uh,” I said, glancing at Chloe. “Sure. We’re gonna go see her.”

  “Oh good. She was so interesting. Our conversation was… We had such…” He trailed off, and I felt the distress around him bubble harder. “That is, I really wanted to contribute, to talk to her, but I didn’t have much to say. She wante
d to know about you, about our marriage. She wanted to know why I smelled of you when I left your office. I think she was jealous, but I don’t know why. You’re nothing compared to her.”

  I let his comment go, deciding that I couldn’t take it personally. Sure, I had cheated on him, but Norma probably wanted to give him cancer and leave him dead in the street. Surely he didn’t really think my betrayal was worse? This had to be the doing of Norma’s succubus mojo.

  “Did you tell her?” I asked, pushing past my guilt. Stan shook his head, his brow creasing.

  “I didn’t…there wasn’t much to say. I told her we were divorced, about how it ended. I couldn’t concentrate on you, though, on our history. I was distracted by her breasts.”

  Owen laughed again from the front and even Chloe fought off a snort. I frowned down at Stan.

  “By her breasts?” I asked. He nodded rapidly, but the distress around him was getting overwhelming, making me feel like I’d gotten water up my nose and I couldn’t breathe well enough to get it out.

  “Yes, I couldn’t stop staring. Or, if she wasn’t facing me, I looked at her behind. Both are very attractive and she’s so interesting that I know it shouldn’t matter, but I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to put my hands—”

  “Okay!” I squeaked, pushing forward to tie the gag around his mouth again. He frowned up at me and tried to talk over the cloth, but I couldn’t understand him, thankfully. Two or three jumbled words into being gagged, he stopped speaking and I felt the cloud of his feelings shift back to a mild confusion. Not being able to talk seemed to comfort him. All of it was on another level, though, as if he was acting without his own permission.

  “That’s why we gagged him. He wouldn’t stop describing the things he was thinking about her body,” Chloe explained. Her cheeks were a bit pink, but her discomfort level was low. “He got kinda graphic.”

  “Well, this is horrifying,” I mumbled, trying to ignore the embarrassment flooding through me. Stan and I had been pretty graphic as hormonal teens, but it was one thing to remember the two of us goofy in love. It was entirely another to know that my prim and proper ex-husband had no choice but to want to get jiggy with some succubus.

  We went silent as we drove, Chloe shifting to look forward at the road. I did my best to stay steady on the slick metal of the van, spreading myself out across from Stan, watching him. He met my eyes and his expression was blank, his emotions continuing to burble in the same distinct and very not-Stan way.

  “I’m sorry you got whammied,” I mumbled over to him.

  “It’s almost over,” Owen said, as the van slowed to a stop. I pushed further up on my knees and tried to see if I recognized where we were. All I saw were houses and vague neighborhood shapes. It wasn’t until Chloe got out and pulled the side door open that I realized we were at Madeline’s.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Owen hefted Stan over his shoulder, which upped the rumble of distress in Stan’s psyche, and turned to wait for me. As soon as Chloe and I were out, Owen twisted effortlessly and headed up the walkway to Madeline’s porch, knocking once on the door. Chloe hooked her arm into mine, not needing psychic powers to sense what I was thinking. I watched the door open, saw Owen slip in and met the eyes of the muscle-bound meathead I’d been eyeing last time. He was expressionless and, at that distance, I felt a little grossed out at the thoughts I’d been having about him before.

  “Everything is gonna be fine,” Chloe said as we headed up to the house. “Madeline will be able to fix Stan, get Norma’s influence out of his head.”

  “Won’t that just put her influence in?”

  “No, she knows what she’s doing. It’s a succubus thing.”

  I glanced at her unhappily but didn’t bother asking how she knew. Chloe was talking to everyone, lately, and had likely been doing research in her downtime. While I’d been pawing at Owen and cringing at Mel, she’d probably been borrowing books from the library or Googling answers and getting exactly what she needed on the first try. I never found what I wanted unless it was dessert-related, but I couldn’t honestly use that as a reason for why I didn’t know what was going on.

  Madeline was standing over Stan as he sat slightly askew on the couch. Owen was standing to the side, hands linked behind his back as he watched Madeline inspect my ex. She tipped her head and an airy feeling of interest blew out of her, sweeping away as mild surprise whooshed in. Without the cloud of desire she’d laid out for us the last time, her emotions felt more familiar. When she crouched in front of Stan, I felt the twitchy thing in his psyche tense.

  As she reached out and put a hand to his chest, something in him exploded in a panicked mess.

  “Hey!” I cried, jerking forward before I knew what I was doing. Chloe pulled me back, stepping between Madeline and me and shaking her head. The muscle around the room regarded me with vague interest but didn’t make a move. I peered over Chloe’s shoulder and watched Madeline as she moved her hand to the back of Stan’s head, her touch gentle. Stan’s legs twitched and I felt that panic inside him grow. Whatever was crawling around in his brain was not happy with whatever Madeline was planning.

  Abruptly, Madeline stood and turned to face Owen.

  “I’ll need a few hours with him, but after that he’ll be back to normal.” Stan struggled a bit against his bonds, although his expression stayed bland. I sighed, watching his body shudder and seize, despite the fact that he seemed unaware of it. I wanted to go curl up around him, to pull his head into my lap and pet his hair. I wanted to protect him from pain, to be the woman I should’ve been for him ten years ago. I felt Chloe’s sadness match mine, and when I turned minutely to meet her eyes I realized she was feeling sad for me, not Stan. For once, it made me feel a bit angry that she would regard me as anything but a screw-up.

  Owen and Madeline had been talking while I was watching Stan, and I forced myself to tune in.

  “Can you find her through him?” Owen asked.

  “Not without letting him go to her. I can untie him, give him a car and follow whatever meandering path leads him there, or I can get her mark off of him. The longer the mark stays, though, the harder it gets to remove. Or, if you do things the hard way, the harder he takes it when she dies. His essence will rebuild, if given the time, but if he’s still bound to her and she dies…it won’t be pretty.”

  “Then get on with it,” Owen said, crossing his arms. “We may have another way to locate her.”

  “Another victim?”

  “Yeah, but he’s already pretty far gone from the sound of it.”

  “Beyond saving?”

  Owen twisted to look to Chloe and me, expecting us to answer Madeline’s question.

  “You mean Mel?” I asked. Madeline’s brows shot up and the laugh that shot through her lips hit me like a warm blast of wind.

  “Norma got to our werewolf?” she asked

  “Yeah, he’s all—ha ha—moony over her, crying about how he can’t get laid, but he can’t stop thinking about her,” Chloe explained.

  Madeline started laughing again, but this time it was a wheezing, delighted sound. I found myself pulled into it, wanting to go to her and share the experience. I walked right into Chloe as I took a step forward, and she turned as if confused at what I was doing. When Madeline straightened up there were tears in her eyes and she put a hand out to Owen’s arm as if she couldn’t stand without the help. Owen glanced at her hand on his arm and I felt a slice of irritation arc out of him, but he said nothing.

  When she was able, Madeline explained what was so funny.

  “Werewolves sleep with everything that moves, right?” We all nodded. “But when a succubus gets hold of one, we naturally want them to ourselves—regardless of what emotion we feed upon. Something with as much energy as a wolf is a gift, essentially, and one you don’t want to share. The mark we put on them royally fucks with their confidence and sense of well-being. It’s worse if we feed on something other than sex, but sex is bad enough.
”

  Madeline took a step back and moved her hand off Owen’s arm to hold it up, palm out toward us.

  “I’m not saying it’s right, and I haven’t done it since I was young, but when you screw with a werewolf’s confidence, they—it’s like putting an emotional chastity belt on. No one is going to touch them with a ten-foot pole. Part of it is the mark, of course, making people uncomfortable to just be around them, but that confidence—” She laughed again, shook her head as if to apologize. “That being gone? You might as well dunk the wolf in cat piss and dress it in old ham.” She collapsed into a fit of giggles again and I found myself drawn in.

  “Mad, you’re getting Gwen,” Chloe said quietly, tightening the grip I hadn’t realized she had on my arm.

  “What?” she asked. Chloe shoved a shoulder into me, knocking me back when I tried, once again, to walk closer. “Oh, shit.” Straightening up, Madeline shook her head, took a jumpy breath and then let it out slowly.

  I felt the desire I’d had fade away.

  “What happened?” I asked. Chloe shook her head, and Owen continued to stand like a sentry, a small smile on his face.

  “You’re not shielded, and that’s dangerous for an empath around me, especially in my current state,” Madeline explained. Waving a hand at me, she stepped back toward Stan. “Go, find her. Use Mel—” She fought off more laughter. “And let me know if you need help. I will be indisposed for a while, though, so if you need me before I’m done…well, you’ll have to wait.”

  “He’s going to be okay?” I asked, gesturing to Stan. Madeline nodded, using her sleeve to wipe her face.

  “He’ll be better than okay.”

  “Madeline,” Owen said, his tone a warning. She rolled her gaze to him and I felt the change in atmosphere immediately. Whatever history they shared had just been pulled to the forefront. Owen remained still, his face blank, his emotions tinged with a sort of malice I realized I had felt in him before, though I’d felt it in much smaller doses. Anger whipped out of her, a tornado that I was convinced might tug my hair out at the roots. Chloe’s disinterest was a buffer between their standoff and me and I was thankful she couldn’t seem to sense that Owen and Madeline both felt like they might go at each other’s throats any second.