Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel (20 page)

“Some scare tactic,” I said, running my fingers along my fangs.

“I will get rid of them.” And when she snapped her fingers, they were gone.

“Thanks.” I semi-smiled, feeling my mouth with my tongue. It felt weird without them.

She smiled at me in return, but hers was glorious. “You are welcome. Do not worry, my sweet girl,” she said softly. “You will be safe with your Michael. He is very reliable for a werewolf.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Trust me, Patricia. He
will
keep you safe and away from the world you so readily do not want to become a part of.” She seemed to be telling me something with her eyes, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure it out. Then she walked toward me, kissing me on the forehead.

“I also wish for you to remember,” she continued, “that there are far worse things to become than a vampire.”

I nodded. “I will.” I didn’t doubt that for a minute.

She placed her hand on my shoulder, whispering, “Keep safe, my child.”

“I’ll sure try,” I said, bowing my head. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was in an apartment.

I glanced around the small room and saw that Mike was asleep in an old wingback chair that was placed right up against the small bed on the floor. I wondered for a second where the furniture came from and where we’d gotten the money for the apartment. But then I remembered that Kathryn said she would take care of everything, and I relaxed.

I looked around the room again, trying to find a clock. I’d left my watch at Samuel’s. But there was one on Mike’s wrist, and I craned my neck to see the time. It was ten-thirty in the morning, and I had to call Tina to see if she was all right.

I slipped Mike’s cell out of his pocket, careful not to wake him, and walked out into the small living room, which was right down a two-foot-long, four-foot-wide hallway. Then I punched in the numbers, waiting on baited breath, as the phone slowly but surely rang.

.

chapter

EIGHTEEN

“Did he really do that to me?” Tina asked in a huff. She answered the phone upset with me, but now that I explained everything; she was calmer and more persuasive.

I didn’t tell her the entire story about my escape from the mansion of doom, but I did kind of explain why I left. Basically, I lied. Everything I told her was far from the truth, and really, she didn’t need to know anything that would get her into trouble. But when she asked about what happened to her, I told her that Samuel had called her last night to make a move on her and that I had interrupted his plan. Then I told her that he got annoyed and threw her up against the wall and hit me in the face. She blacked out immediately while I fought him off. Thankfully, Mike was there, and we’d escaped within an inch of our lives.

“Yes, he did,” I whispered, trying not to wake Mike.

“Man,” she whispered back, although I couldn’t imagine why, “what an asshole.”

“I agree.” My jaw and cheeks had really started to hurt. And as for the rest of me, I noticed already-formed bruises.

“So,” she said, slyly getting off subject, “have you and Mike…ya know?”

I blushed, and it made my cheek pulsate. Only Tina. “Yes, but it’s not like that. I’m not really married.” What was I saying? Only I could make up a lie like
that.

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“I mean that…” Think…think…think… “We didn’t actually get married.” Sure, that explained it. “I mean, the justice was fake,” I didn’t even sound like I believed that. “Samuel set it all up to look like a marriage. But really, it was just a clever plan to get into my pants.” I mentally crossed my fingers.
Please let her believe me. Please let her believe me.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh. My. God!” She believed me? “What a jerk!”

“I know,” I said, outraged, but really, I was relieved. “Isn’t it awful?”

“Way.” She sounded livid. “When did you find this out?”

“That’s why Mike was over. He came to tell me that the whole thing was faked.” I yawned, not believing that I was still tired after all the sleep I’d gotten. I guess being in shock does that to people.

“I knew I liked that Mike,” she said, and I rolled my eyes. That’s not what she told me in the dressing room the other day. The girl had some
seriously
colorful language.

“So, what are you gonna do now?” she asked after a moment or two.

I sighed. “I guess I’ll stay down here for a while until everything cools down, and then I’ll just go from there.”

“Sounds like you got yourself a plan.” Her voice was very low and hushed. I could barely hear her, but I did hear that she sounded lonely. “I’m gonna miss you.” She started to cry.

“I’m going to miss you too,” I said, crying along with her. “Think of it this way. We’ll still e-mail each other, and we’ll talk on the phone every day.”

“But I won’t see your face,” she began to sob harder.

“Tina.” I regained control over myself. There was no use in both of us crying. “Don’t cry. I’m not…” then I had a thought. “I know,” I said, snapping my fingers, “maybe you can come down at the end of next month for Thanksgiving. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I guess so,” she sniffed. “I’m just really,
really
gonna miss you. You’re like my sister, and when my sister’s in trouble and I can’t do anything about it, it worries me.”

“I’ll be all right,” I assured her and myself at the same time. “I have Mike. And if I’m really in danger, I’ll call you right away. I promise.”

“Okay.” She didn’t sound sure about that.

“So,” I mimicked her make-you-blush voice, “what’s this I hear about you dating a millionaire?” She’d said something about it when she first answered the phone, and I wanted to know more.

“Nothing,” she giggled through tears. “We’re just going out, like I said.”

“Oh, really?” I raised a tired eyebrow. “How serious is this?”

“Herbert and I want to take it slow.” Well, they were on a first-name basis, so that had to be good. “Plus,” she sighed, “he’s older than I am, so he does things a little differently.”

“How old is he?” I asked, wanting to keep the subject going. I didn’t want her to start crying again.

“Not as old as you think.” Thinking? Who was thinking at that point? An educated, tired guess would bet that Herbert was in his sixties. “But to answer your question,” she continued, “he’s fifty-four years old.”

“Well, that’s not a big age difference,” I said, knowing that Tina was not as young as she acted. “Considering you’re thirty—”

“No,” she interrupted me with gusto, “I am not thirty-
anything
. This year will be the third anniversary of my twenty-ninth birthday. And don’t you forget it, babe.”

I tried to smile, but my cheeks hurt too much. “Okay, Miss Twenty-Nine-Three-Years-Running.”

She laughed. “There’s my sarcastic friend. I’ve missed her something fierce.”

“Not as much as I did.” Truer words were never spoken. I did miss my sarcasm. Hell, I missed me. Samuel brought out a side in me that I didn’t know existed, and quite frankly, I was glad to be rid of her. I liked my old self, cynicism and all.

“So,” I yawned for the second time, “what are your plans with Herbert?”

“I don’t know.” I could see her shrug. “It’s too soon to tell.”

“Do you like him?” I asked, plopping down on the rug, exhausted.

“Yeah.” There was something in her voice. Doubt, maybe?

“You don’t know?” I was shocked by that. It wasn’t like Tina not to be sure. Men fell all over her, and for her not to know…it was very out of character.

She sighed. “Well, you know we’ve been on a few dates right?”

I yawned a third time. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s just that nothing has come from it.” She seemed upset about that. “And I’m sorta getting a little worried.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, not believing that we were having a normal conversation while the world was crumbling down around us.

“I mean…you know…” she waited for me to fill in the blank.

“Oh,” I said, finally getting it. “You mean sex.”

“Yeah,” she admitted sheepishly. “He says he wants to take it slow.”

“Aw,” yawn, “that’s sweet.”

“Easy for you to say,” she huffed. “You don’t have my kind of libido.” That was true.

“Take it from someone who’s been in the fast lane. The best thing you can do is be patient.” I was never short of good advice, even if I didn’t take it myself.

“I still can’t believe he hit you,” she scoffed. Great, we were back on
that
subject again. “If he were in front of me,” I could see her making a fist, “I’d punch him in the face.”

“Good luck with that,” I mumbled. If she only knew. Then I remembered she did.

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?” she asked defensively.

“Tina,” I said, my mind made up, “there’s something that I’m not telling you.”

She sighed, and I could tell that she was frustrated with me. “Is it important?”

“Yes,” I huffed, my face hurting so bad that I grimaced. I told myself that this conversation would have to end soon, before I couldn’t talk anymore. “It kind of is.”

“Well,” she prompted, “what is it?”

“Let’s just say for argument’s sake that you already know, but you said that I was crazy.”

“Okay,” she said the word slowly and skeptically. “So you’re not gonna tell me?”

“No, Tina,” I huffed. “I already told you.”

“I can’t remember.” She gave up, a little too easily, if you ask me.

“Just start thinking about last night and the past few days. It’ll come to you.” I didn’t really care if she knew or not, but it would have been nice to have someone other than Mike to talk about all
this.

“Okay.” I knew she was pouting. “Whatever you say,” she sighed, and then added, “I wish I could see you.”

I yawned for the fifth time. “I wish I could see you too.”

“You sound tired, honey.” Thank you, Captain Obvious. “You should go to bed, Patty.”

“But I want to talk to you,” I whined, which is when I knew I was worn out.

“Call me later.” I heard the smile in her voice. “And do me a favor.”

“Anything,” I slurred, my eyelids growing heavy, and I had to blink hard to stay awake. “You name it.”

“Don’t-get-married-again-until-you’re-absolutely-sure-that-the-man-isn’t-a-psychopath.” The way she said it, it sounded like one word.

“Right.” I saluted her through the phone, stifling the “ow” that came with the gesture. “Gotcha.”

“I’ll see you,” she said sadly.

“Yes.” I paused, making sure she knew I meant it. “You will. Oh, and Tina?”

“Yeah?” she asked softly.

“I love you,” I told her. She was my family, and we both knew it.

“I love you too,” she said back. “Bye, sweetie.”

“Bye,” and with that I hung up.

Tiptoeing back into the bedroom, I looked in to see if Mike was still asleep. But there was no need for the precaution. He was sitting in the chair with his elbow on his knee and his chin on his knuckles.

“Can I have my phone back?” he huffed, narrowing his eyes and holding his hand out to me.

I was tempted to say, “He speaks,” but I was just too tired for a fight. So I handed him his cell back with a grimace, and he leaned back, placing it in his front pocket. Then he sat with his forearms on his thighs, while he folded his hands in his lap.

He hung his head and sighed. “Who’d you call?” he asked, not looking up at me.

“Samuel,” I said sarcastically. “Who do you think I called? I called Tina to see if she was all right.”

He sneered at me. “Next time you ask me,” he commanded. I was so sick and tired of commands.

“I’ll make sure I do that, whether you’re sleeping or not.” I was trying not to be agitated with him, but it wasn’t working. “Is that all,
master
?” I bowed to him.

“Not yet,” he disregarded what I said. “We need to talk.”

“Oh, goodie,” I said as I sat on the bed facing him. “A talk. And what, pray tell, do we talk about?” You must know that when I’m tired, my sarcastic level goes up to about a thirteen on a scale from one to ten. Not that I wasn’t always at a five to being with. But, I digress.

He looked up at me. “Us.”

“Is it the fact that we’re sitting here?” See, I told you.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “No,” he hissed. “Us as in you and me, as in what are we gonna do now?”

I placed my finger on my chin as if I was thinking. “Well, I don’t know what you’re going to do, Mr. Werewolf, but first thing tomorrow morning I’m going to find myself an apartment, because I am
not
staying here with you.” Okay, that was just plain mean.

He sat back in the chair. “And why the hell not?” he huffed.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe, it’s because I can’t stand the sight of you,” I huffed back. He was being an idiot. “Why do
you
think?”

He closed his eyes, nodding. “You don’t want another Sam situation.”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! Let’s tell him what’s he’s won, Johnny!” Now I was being goofy.

“I’m not Sam,” he said as his eyes blazed into mine. He was trying to have a profound moment of understanding with me, but all I could do was be sarcastic.

I shook my head. “No, you’re not. I don’t think you’d look good in a coffin.”

“This isn’t a joke.” He was getting upset. I could tell by the popping of the veins in his neck.

“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” I asked, mocking his Southern accent.

“Well, I don’t know.” He got louder. “When you sit there makin’ your snide little remarks!”

“I’m tired!” Well, this was quickly becoming a screaming match.

He threw his hands up at me. “You got plenty of sleep!”

“Yes…well…” I huffed. “You weren’t the one that was raped by your own husband!”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Well, it didn’t look it. You didn’t even fight back!”

I gasped, placing my hand over my heart. That was low, and he knew it. “I didn’t see you fighting either,” I snapped. If he was going to play it that way, then so was I. “Considering you let him take me down there without so much as a fleeting flash of guilt!”

“You…you…vampire lover!” he screamed in my face.

“You take that back you…you dog!” I hissed at him.

“I’d rather be a dog than a
bitch
!” Oh, no. He did
not
just say that.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’d rather be a bitch than a coward!” I retorted.

“I said I was sorry about that,” he hissed with quiet anger.

“Well, as my mother used to say,” God rest her soul, “sorry doesn’t cut it. You did.”

“What the hell does that mean?” he screamed, confused.

I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I yelled back. “She never would tell me!”

“Are we done being angry with each other now?” he screamed in my face one last time.

“I guess so!” I snapped back, and both of our faces relaxed. Then we started to laugh.

“What are we doing?” I asked, after a couple of minutes of us laughing.

He shrugged. “I have no clue,” he said, and I yawned again. “You really are tired, aren’t you?” I nodded, my eyes closing slightly. “As a matter of fact, I think I could use a couple more winks of shuteye myself.” He stretched, and I heard his back crack.

“Why don’t you sleep with me in the bed?” I asked, lying down and resting my head on half of the pillow. “Come on, wolfy.” I patted the empty space next to me. “I won’t bite. Much.” Mike climbed in, smiling at me as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me to him.

“Mike?” I asked with a grimace.

His eyes began to close. “Hmm?”

“Promise me we’ll take this nice and slow?” I needed to hear it from his lips.

“I promise,” he said through a yawn, and then his eyes closed.

I wanted to shake him awake so he could say it again, but the next thing I knew I was running through the Louisiana backwoods. Something was chasing me, and this time I didn’t know what it was. I slowed down a bit, looking over my shoulder, and then fell into a huge hole.

Everything seemed familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then I started to scream for help and realized that I was in Mike’s story. “Mike,” I screamed his name, clawing at the sides of the hole. “Mike!”