03 - You Only Live Nine Times (9 page)

“Definitely,” said Raf, brightening slightly.  “But it’s probably best if you drive, I’m still a little woozy.”

Isis let out a musical laugh.  “Congratulations, you just survived your first witch encounter.”

Raf grimaced.  “Great, let’s celebrate as soon as I stop tasting colors.”

*

“So, we’re on a stakeout, shouldn’t we be stuffing our faces with donuts and talking about our prostate problems?”

Isis leaned her head back and pursed her lips, trying to stave off boredom as Ms. Kitty huffed.  They were watching the Twin Dragon Clinic where Amanda Whitmore worked.  Isis had been all for marching on in there and demanding to speak to the damn witch.  Raf had suggested something a little subtler.  So, Isis put in a call to Jessie to find out all she could about the clinic.  Jessie got back to them lickity split with the news that she couldn’t find anything odd about the clinic.  It was a fertility clinic founded by a registered witch doctor who went by the name Bongo (a man whose real name was Ernest Boggs, born in Wisconsin, and had quite a few prior arrests for various charges including assault).  They specialized in using magic to aid fertility, but they always passed their Council inspection and were never found to be using either black magic or illegal substances.  Furthermore, Jessie had confirmed that a witch called Amanda Whitmore had worked there for over fourteen months. 

Raf was super impressed with how quick and efficient Jessie was, stating that it would have taken all day to get that information if he’d called his own precinct for help.  Isis pushed aside the shiver of jealousy she felt about his compliment for Jessie and told him it was one of the many perks of working at the SEA. 
Also she may have hinted that Jessie had a huge butt, a unibrow and preferred the company of women.

Of course, after Jessie had passed on all this information, Isis again wanted to run right in there and shake some answers out of Amanda – or anyone she ran into, really.  But Raf had put the kybosh on that, instead suggesting they watch and wait and try to get a handle on what’s going on in there.  They couldn’t secure a search warrant to get in there based on Kalinda’s bitching, so they were stuck with finding out whatever info they could on their own.  She’d huffed, puffed and Ms. Kitty had growled in protest that they couldn’t see through walls, but Raf had been adamant that he wanted to see what was going on from the outside of the building first. 
Lame
.

Her tiger was ready for a little action.  She hadn’t shifted in a few days and was more than a little keen to barge in there, whip out her tiger and scare some info out of people.  And Kalinda batting her freaky witchy eyes at Raf certainly hadn’t calmed her mood.  Her skin actually tightened as she felt the urge of her fur pushing forward. 
Probably not a good idea to let loose in the car, she was kind of large.

Raf chuckled as he grabbed a handful of fries.  Naturally they’d prepared for this interminably boring stakeout by grabbing some fast food first.  “Well, my prostate is fine, but if you’ve got something to tell me…”

Isis tapped her fingers on the dash as she watched a heavily pregnant woman waddle into the clinic.  A brood of six kids followed her. 
Huh, regular customer
.  Raf noted the time and wrote it down in a notebook.

“Penguin shifter,” said Isis.

“Really?  You can’t smell that from all the way over here, can you?”

“No, I can tell by the way she’s walking.  That waddle’s not all because of the enormous stomach.”

He nodded and noted that down, too.  He was so conscientious.  She just forgot things like a cool person.

Isis shoved a handful of fries into her mouth and sucked on her chocolate milkshake.  He smirked at her, but she didn’t care.  Shifters were big eaters; they had high metabolisms.  There was no room for being a dainty eater when you were a shifter. 
No cucumber sandwiches for this tigress, it was double hamburgers and extra large everythings all the way.

“What’s with you anyway?” asked Isis.  “I thought all detectives were fat, white guys, with overhanging guts, comb-overs and donut fetishes.”  At least in her experience they all were.  This caramel, hard-bodied god sat next to her seemed to be a total anomaly.

Raf guffawed and tried not to choke on his soda.  “I wouldn’t advise you saying that too loudly down at the precinct.  As to your pre-conceptions, my parents are Brazilian, I like to work out and I have great hair genes – in fact we have a problem with an abundance of hair in my family.  You should see my Uncle Felipe, he looks like a yeti.  But, I hate to admit it, I do kind of have an addiction to donuts.”

“It doesn’t show.”  Nope and she had really been looking.  He had the ass of someone who ate rice cakes all the damn freaking time.

Raf slapped his toned stomach.  “This takes a lot of hours in the gym.”

“Totally worth it,” she said with an admiring glance.  Of course, perhaps he should strip out of his shirt so that she could give him a proper perusal.  So far, she had only felt his hard muscles.  Licking her tongue all over them would be a more thorough way to make up her mind.  Ms. Kitty purred at that idea.

He coughed to hide his blush.  “Another couple’s going in.”

Isis looked them over.  “Hmmm, I’m guessing by his shoulders and build he’s a rhino or maybe a hippo shifter.  She looks human.”

She sighed.  It wasn’t unpleasant being alone with Raf, but this was boring.  Who cared how many couples sauntered in and out of that place?  It was telling them nothing!  She was about to voice her unhappiness once again when he cut her off with a question.

“What made you decide to join the SEA?”

Isis hesitated for a second before fluttering her eyelashes and adopting a squeaky, high voice.  “I wanted to make the world a better place.”

His lips twitched.  “I asked why you decided on your current career, not for a highlight of your Miss. World speech.”

Humph
.  “Alright,
Raffy
, let’s hear why you became a cop.”

Was it wrong that she felt amusement when he winced at the name Raffy?  Maybe that train wreck of a woman Georgia was a sore point.  Hmmm, maybe he’d slept with her, and she was acting all clingy.  Her tiger snarled savagely.  No, she didn’t like that thought at all.

“Family tradition,” he replied, solemnly.  “My dad was a cop, but uh, he’s not on the job anymore… not after what happened.”  His face tightened, and he gripped his soda.

Oh no.
  “What happened?”

“He retired,” he told her gravely.

“Idiot.”

Raf shook with laughter.  “He spends most of his days playing golf and interfering with how my sister raises her kids.  I don’t think I ever wanted to be anything else – not that I was given a choice.  My dad was a cop, his dad was a cop, his dad was a cop and…”

Isis rolled her hand dismissively.  “His dad invented cops; I get it.”

“How about you?”

“Well, it keeps me off the streets.”

“Seriously?”  He was still friendly, but his eyes hardened slightly.  He wasn’t just asking to be polite; he was interested – seriously!

“I try to avoid being serious,” she murmured, wanting to change the subject.  This wasn’t something she talked about with friends, never mind cops she just met and was considering ravishing.

And then he blurted out something completely unexpected.  “Afraid to let anyone close in case they find out you’re not as tough as you pretend?”

Isis almost choked on her chicken nugget.  “Blurgh!  You sound like a sappy women’s self-help book.”  Not that she’d ever read one, but her mom had. 
Yeah, look how that worked out
.

Raf shook his head and grinned as he noted down another couple walking into the clinic.  Isis informed him that they both looked like zebra shifters, and he thanked her.

“I’m not surprised,” he said, getting back to the matter at hand – namely the drivel he just spouted.  “My ex-girlfriend used to write them.  Well, she still does, but thankfully she’s no longer around to try out her material on me.”

“Sounds like a narrow escape.”  Yes, he didn’t need that type of woman, he needed someone who was strong and snarky and flirty and happened to change into a tiger every now and then.  Ms. Kitty agreed;
that was totally the type of woman he needed
. 

“Oh, it was.  I was in serious danger of growing a vagina for a while there.”

“What a looooooovely image!” she groaned and playfully slapped his arm, lingering on his warm skin only slightly, so that it didn’t seem weird.  She’d have to find another excuse to slap him later.

“So?”  His eyes flickered to her expectantly, only taking them off the entrance to the clinic momentarily, but enough to let her know that he expected her to share something in return.

Something inside her snapped.  Whether it was the need to share with him, the desire not to hold anything back from him, or just her frustration at having to keep it bottled up while dealing with her mom on a regular basis, she didn’t know. 
But when the floodgates open…

“Ugh,
fine
, I joined the SEA after my mom was murdered.  The agent who handled her case suggested it, and he was kind of my mentor.  He’s retired now, living in Florida and running a jet-ski rental.  He’s a manatee shifter.  Happy?  This is totally uncomfortable now!”

Isis flinched as his fingers brushed her cheek.  Her tiger whimpered, and she allowed herself to be comforted by this stranger.  The feather-light touch of his fingers sent pulses of pleasurable electricity through her.  It wasn’t sexual, although she couldn’t help but feel arousal for him non-stop, but this was soothing.  Helping her ease her pain.  And he wasn’t a stranger, he was her mate, corrected her inner beast.

“I’m sorry about your mom.”

“She was a total slut for cat shifters.  One day she met one who was a little too possessive of her, and when she tried to leave him, he killed her.”  It sounded so simple when she said it like that, so final.  She probably shouldn’t mention her mom’s ghost for now – that was something she hadn’t even reported to the SEA. 
And all ghost sightings were supposed to be reported.

He dropped his fingers and Isis fidgeted in her seat.  “This is weird, now that we’ve shared stuff.”

“I thought you were open about things.”

“About dumb stuff, sure.” 
Stuff that didn’t matter
.  Stuff that did matter belonged to her and her alone.  Ms. Kitty growled.  Fine, it belonged to
them
and
them
alone.

“So you like to shock people by being open about some things while hiding the most private details,” mused Raf.

Isis scowled at him.  “Okay, gimme the address of your ex, I’m gonna go punch her in the face.”

Raf let out a loud, shoulder-shaking laugh.  “I wouldn’t bother, she’d just explain it away with some bogus psycho-babble about you not getting enough hugs when you were younger.”

“Pfft!  My mom almost hugged me to death when I was young.  Hugged me every day even when I begged her not to.  That’s just the kind of person she was.”

“She sounds like a nice woman,” he said, quietly.

“Yeah, she was,” in spite of her annoying tendencies, Isis could see she was a super lady – still was in ghost form.  Although Isis bitched about her, she was the only one allowed to.  “She was actually human, well, a psychic.  What about your mom?”

“Also human.”

“I gathered that.  Was she a cop, too?”

“No, my dad wanted her to stay at home, so she did.”  The muscle in his jaw ticked slightly.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too happy about that.”

“It’s not my place to say, but she went to college, and she wanted to be a teacher, but my dad wanted her to stay home and support his career.”

“Sucks.”  Ms. Kitty agreed vociferously.  Although she wasn’t opposed to a little playful domination in the bedroom –
yes, she could be a kinky pussy
– there was no way she would be bossed around out in the real world.

Raf rolled his shoulders and gave her a tight smile.  “It is what it is.”

“Ugh, that fat, pregnant penguin and her ugly offspring are all coming out of the clinic now.”  This was pointless, all they were seeing were people prancing in and out of the building. 
It was telling them f-all!
  “How the hell long have we been at this now?” she demanded, testily.  “Two hours?  Three?”

He looked at his watch.  “Nineteen minutes,” he told her dispassionately.  “You don’t do a lot of stakeouts, do you?”

“My director said I don’t have the personality for them.” 
Whatever the fuck that meant!

Raf rubbed a hand over his face and let out an exasperated sigh.  “Okay, how about we try a different approach.”

Chapter Nine

“Well aren’t you just the cutest couple?”

“We sure are!” gushed Isis.  Her cheeks ached from smiling so widely, but she was determined to look like a sunny young woman in love with the hunk she was clinging to. 
Instead of a snarky, youngish tigress who was in deep lust with the hard body pressing against her.

“I’m Rafael, and this is my wife Issy,” introduced Raf.  He eyed her nametag.  “Nice to meet you, Becky.”

Yep, they were going down the route of pretending to be a young married couple desperately trying to have a baby.  Isis tried not to look too gleeful when Raf suggested it.  Pretending to be married?  Okay, it was a little sad that she got excited about it, but there was no harm in it, just lots of excuses to snake her arms around him in bruising hugs. 
Oh, he smelled divine.

“We don’t have an appointment,” said Isis, with a cute pout.  Ms. Kitty almost gagged at her put-on cuteness.  “But we heard you guys were the best and we’re trying for a baby.”

Becky, a ferret shifter, beamed at them.  “I’m sure we can squeeze you two lovebirds in.”

Isis snuggled deeper into Raf’s chest, and his arm tightened around her.  This.  Was.  Awesome.

Becky passed them a couple of boards with questionnaires attached.  “If you two could just fill out these, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Becky,” murmured Raf in his gorgeously, velvety voice as he took both boards.

Isis and her tiger bit the urge to snarl at the ferret as a teeny, tiny sliver of arousal laced her natural scent. 
Fucking ferret
.

“I don’t mean to be pushy,” started Isis in a whiny voice as she twisted a strand of hair around her finger.  “But I heard that Amanda was the best you had.  We’d love it if we could see her.”

Becky bit her lip.  “Amanda’s booked pretty solid, and all our consultants are equally…”

“Please, Becky,” said Raf, knitting his brows in an unhappy, puppy dog look.

The ferret shifter melted.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

They said their thanks and wandered over to the waiting area to look over the questionnaires.  They were the only people there.  Presumably all the people they had seen enter over their nineteen-minute stakeout were in appointment rooms.

“See, isn’t this a lot better than a stakeout,” she whispered to Raf, smugly.

He raised an eyebrow.  “The minute they realize we’re cops we’re out on our ears, or worse.   This guy Bongo has a lot of prior arrests for assault, except none of the cases went to trial because his victims mysteriously dropped the charges last minute.  His rap sheet doesn’t indicate he’s a particularly forgiving sort of witch doctor.”

“It’s worth the risk.”  She scanned the questions.  “What are we putting for proposed species of baby?”

“Tiger shifter, I guess.  Whatever happened to just wanting a healthy baby?  One of the questions here is for the size of male baby’s penis when fully grown!”

Isis shook her head at Raf’s outrage.  Not that she thought he was wrong, though.  “Really takes the mystery out of life, right?  We should probably put that we want him to have the same size as his daddy, so what will that be?”  She was only asking for the interest of the case, of course.  It’s not like she was some kind of pervert who was trying to work out exactly what Raf would look like naked to add authenticity to her sexy dreams.  No, definitely not.

Raf pursed his lips, holding back his snicker.  “Let’s just say we want a girl.  Let’s say we want her to be five-foot-ten, red hair, and since they’re asking us the disgusting question, curvy body.  It really is disturbing that people are allowed to pick out their baby’s body type.  I notice there aren’t any questions about intellect on here.”

“But then why would you need it when you can specify that your baby girl has a double d rack?”

“Large breasts are overrated.”

In spite of herself, a warm flush rose to her cheeks, and Ms. Kitty purred in pleasure.  Thankfully, before she surrendered to the urge to ask him the disgustingly sappy question of what kind of woman he was looking for, Becky bounced over to them.

“How are we getting on?”

“Great!” beamed Raf.

“Super!” cried Isis. 
Ugh, she was getting diabetes from her own sugariness.

“You’re in luck,” squealed Becky, excitedly.  “Amanda can squeeze you in for a consultation.”

Isis clasped Raf’s hand to her bosom.  “That’s wonderful news, isn’t it honey?”

He groaned in response. 
Damn straight large breasts are overrated
.

Becky took their completed questionnaires.  “Follow me.”

The ferret shifter led them down a series of corridors.  They each eagerly took in every detail they could.  Isis glanced down one and saw a large steel door at the end of it.  It looked ominously exciting.  She motioned toward it with her head, and Raf gave her a half-nod in return.

“Here you are.”  Becky led them into a large room; the walls were covered in large swirling patterns, and the floor was dominated by three beanbags, situated around a mini cauldron on a bamboo mat.  “Make yourself comfortable.”

Isis eyed the beanbags. 
Not likely on them.

“Can I get either of you a drink?”

Both Raf and Isis declined, and Becky withdrew, leaving them with a twinkling smile.

“My cheeks are killing me from smiling so much,” grouched Isis.  “I can’t believe anyone who is in love is ever this happy.”

Raf arranged himself on one of the odious beanbags like it was the most natural thing in the world, and they weren’t torture devices masquerading as furniture.  Damnit, the damn cop could make throwbacks from the ‘70’s look sexy.  Next thing he’d be rocking a flares and platform heels.  He’d pull them off, too.

“We only have to pretend for a little while longer.”

True, but that wasn’t exactly comforting.  Why did that fact make her heart constrict and her tiger mewl?

Wordlessly, Isis perched on the beanbag next to his.  “When she comes in, I’ll ask to go the bathroom.  While I’m gone, you question her, and I’ll snoop around.”

Raf took on a hard look.  “I don’t like it.  It might be dangerous.”

“I’m a big, bad tigress, remember?  Rawr.”

“If someone catches you…”

Isis rolled her shoulders unconcernedly.  “I won’t get caught.”  True, she had scented various types of male shifters, and even a vampire, but she wasn’t worried.  She was kind of interested as to whether this place could actually manage to produce a vampire child, though.  When anyone turns into a vampire, you’re technically dead, and your baby making equipment goes bye-bye.  The idea that half-vampire babies could be created… that was a completely icky.

Raf bristled unhappily.  Yeah, he was worried about her.  Now he was scowling at her.  She had to wipe her delighted look off her face.  She reached over and rubbed his thigh; he liked that, it calmed him – she could tell.  Plus, she kind of enjoyed it, too.

“It’ll be okay, I do this sort of thing all the time.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he muttered, crossly.

“Hello, my darlings!”

Raf jumped as a brightly dressed woman erupted into the room.  She was prettily plump and had masses of black hair piled on her head.  She gave them both a benign smile before dropping onto the empty beanbag.  Unlike Kalinda, who gave off a scary ‘don’t fuck with me or I’ll turn you into a toad vibe’, Amanda seemed to be more like a fairy godmother.  The idea that this woman would rob a grave seemed preposterous at face value.  Either Kalinda had deliberately fed them incorrect information, which she doubted, or Amanda was a really good actress.

She pointed a green fingernail at Isis and then moved it to Raf.  “You must be Issy, the tiger shifter, and you must be Rafael, the human, welcome to the Twin Dragon Clinic.  I understand you want help conceiving a daughter.”

Raf took Isis’ hand in his and raised it to his lips, brushing them over her skin.  She almost forgot they were pretending to be married and whimpered.  Luckily, she was also an excellent actress and pulled herself together faster than a birthday cake is devoured within the offices of the SEA. 
Seriously, if anyone brings in cake on their birthday, there’s a stampede to get to it.

Isis nodded with enormous sad eyes.  She even allowed her pert nose to sniffle.  “We’ve been trying and trying, but nothing’s been happening.  It’s so unfair!”  She straddled the line between cutesy little girl pouting and outright wailing.  It worked, too.

“Hush, my dear.  Cross-species fertility can be tricky, but luckily for you, there are those of us in the world who are talented enough to overcome your little problem.”  Amanda put her hand on her ample bosom and looked up to the ceiling with the hint of a tear in her eye.

Surely she meant egotistical enough, right?  Raf looked in interest in the direction where Amanda was looking, but he just shrugged.

“Thank god, we met you, Amanda,” he said in his panty-wetting voice.

Amanda giggled and actually started patting her beehive do.  Oh, you are going down, witch, snarled Ms. Kitty.  She had to find a way to stop Raf from using that voice of his  - it was too gosh darn sexy!

“Before we get started,” he said, “do you mind if I use the restroom?”

Son of a bitch!
   He was going to use that excuse to go and snoop around.  How dare he?  That was her job!  Isis squashed the hand that was still entwined with hers.  His face tensed, and his eyes started to water under the pressure. 

“Of course, darling,” cooed Amanda.  “Turn left, and then left again and it’s the second door on your right.”

“Thanks, Amanda,” he ground out.  He kissed her hand, and she reluctantly released him.  “Be right back, kitten.”  She allowed a smile to smother her face, but her eyes were telling him that he was dead.  Her tiger was not a happy beast.  Why if he thought it was too dangerous for her to snoop did he think she would be okay with him snooping?

He slipped out the room, and Isis turned back to Amanda, who was studying her with interest.  Yikes, under a witch’s glare was not a place you wanted to find yourself.

Amanda clasped her hands together.  “Becky told me you asked for me by name.  May I ask who referred you here?”

Isis leaned back slightly, trying to appear relaxed while not falling off the damn beanbag.  “Actually, it was Kalinda of Kalinda’s Magical Emporium.  You’re friends, right?”

The witch’s light blue eyes hardened slightly and were not quite as friendly as a few moments ago.  “Of course, we’re all friends in the magical community.”

Yeah, right
.  Time for a little confidential girl talk.  With a great effort, Isis heaved herself forward and licked her lips.  “Between you and me, Kalinda told me that you were the best because you were willing to go the extra mile if you know what I mean.”

Amanda eye-balled her watchfully for a couple of minutes, and Isis was careful to maintain her goofy, guileless look.

“It’s my job,” she said eventually, in a gravelly voice, “to help people, by any means necessary.”

Isis bobbed her head almost violently as Ms. Kitty perked up in interest.  “Of course.  I’ve been trying to research fertility potions.”  She wrinkled her nose.  “Most of the early ones seemed to involve human body parts.”  She left that fact hanging in anticipation.

“Yes,” chuckled Amanda, “the early ones were pretty crude.  Although, not much has really changed.”

“So you really do cook up some of those old potions?”  Yes, they were about to solve the case, she was about to crack Amanda and prove she had been stealing the bodies.  In a few hours she and Raf could be celebrating, and she had a wonderful idea about how they could do that…

“If necessary,” replied Amanda, evasively.  “But we tend to look to other alternatives before doing anything drastic.  Look, it’s nothing personal about your guy; he’s lovely and so handsome.”

“Isn’t he?” asked Isis, sweetly as she tried to blow-up Amanda with her mind.  Eyes off witch-skank!

“But human males don’t tend to do well with female shifters.  Fertility tends to be at its lowest between that combination.  It may be that your guy’s not up to the job.”

“What do you mean?”

“For cases like these, I advise a surrogate.”

Isis acted dumb.  “Someone to carry the baby for me?”

“No, no, no.  I mean, you donate us some of your eggs and we fertilize them with the sperm of a tiger shifter matching Raf’s general physical appearance.  You want a tiger shifter anyway, and there really is no difference between tigers who have two full-blooded shifter parents and tigers who have one human parent.”

“How could you find someone who looked like Raf?”  Did she have access to a massive bank of sperm? 
Yuck - gross mental image.

“We have friends at a sperm bank who are happy to acquire what we need.”

Yes, apparently so!

“Does this work out for other couples?”

“Oh, yes, of course.  Sometimes we have to use surrogates for both the mother and father, and sometimes it’s better they don’t know.”