Aymee glared at her as if her apparent health was unacceptable. “She just walked in. … I have no idea, but I guarantee that is the first question I am asking. … Yeah, call you back … Hey, let Eric know she’s alive, at least until I kill her myself. … You too, bye.” The phone slammed forcefully into the cradle.
“You don’t look dead, so this had better be good.” Aymee crossed her arms over her chest, leaning on her desk with her feet crossed in front of her. Aymee was classically beautiful, with thick black hair and almond-shaped eyes reflecting her Japanese father, and the striking blue eyes and lithe build of her English mother. At five foot eight inches, Aymee towered over Jess by a full six inches.
“How many times have you gone MIA?” Jess leaned on her desk, mirroring Aymee’s pose with slight defiance.
“I don’t have the Miss Dependable shit going on either,” Aymee pointed out.
“Didn’t you just say you have a class waiting for you?” She tried another attempt to throw the pit bull of her best friend off the bone of her life.
“You either spill your guts, or I walk out of here and leave you to that class of pimply faced, overemotional teenagers.” Aymee stood, striding the distance between them, bent in the middle with her nose two inches from Jess’s face.
“Fine.” Feeling her face warm with a blush. She and Aymee talked about everything to do with guys. Granted, it was Aymee who’d done most the talking. Still, there hadn’t ever been any awkwardness. “I met a guy and went to his place,” she blurted out.
Aymee blinked twice in stunned silence. “SHUT. UP. SHUT. UP. Tell me everything.” She sat on the opposite edge of Jess’s desk, settling in for a story. Jess couldn’t help but smile at Aymee’s enthusiasm.
She was about to share a little to satisfy Aymee’s curiosity—Lord knew she could use a “wakeup, sista” lecture about now—when a ripple of energy directly behind her drew her attention, followed by a second one. “Don’t you have a class?” she repeated, distractedly, as her heart jumped with anticipation.
“Crap.” Aymee jumped up, heading for the door. “When I get back, I want to know every detail. Don’t even think about holding out on me, not after the night you put me through, worried out of my damn mind. All the while you’re getting your UH HUH on. Not even a phone call.” Aymee’s voice trailed off the further she got down the hall toward the classrooms, bitching the entire way.
Once she was sure Aymee was safely away, she turned to the empty space between her chair and the wall. “What are you doing here, Shane?”
Shane stepped the final way through the port. “You knew I was here.” He had phrased it as a statement, not a question. Wearing the same jeans and gray T-shirt he had put on this morning the military boots from last night, and a smirk on his face, he was a tempting sight.
She wanted to launch herself into his arms and beg him to love her till all the confusion went away, but she walked over and closed the door that Aymee had just walked out of before turning to face him. Leaning her back against the closed door and crossing her arms under her breasts, Jess noticed Shane focus in on them. She knew he was seeing her nipples harden against the material, responding to his visual attention. Her breath hitched in her throat, and the points of his fangs came into view.
The appearance of another man, er, male beside Shane cut off the intensity. “I gotta say, I love this place,” came a melodic voice while his body solidified
Jess straightened, remaining in front of the door. She had thought that Shane had Jerika with him, since the second energy ripple was less noticeable than Shane’s. In fact, if she hadn’t already felt Shane’s, she might have missed the second ripple entirely. So the manifestation of the handsome male was unexpected and a little intimidating.
He was several inches shorter than Shane, with arms the size of tree trucks crossed over his bare chest. His skin was the deep tan of a Native American, and his waist-length hair was so dark brown, it was almost black, hanging braided down his back and tied at the end with a leather thong. Leather pants hugged large, muscular thighs that would make any body-builder green with envy. He was not someone you wanted to run into in a dark alley, even if he did have smiling doe-brown eyes and a friendly expression. No doubt this male could be deadly if riled.
It was obvious that Shane deferred to this man in some manner from the look of respect in Shane’s eyes when he began the introductions.
“Jess, I’d like you to meet my mentor, Gilgamesh.” Shane’s deep voice flowed over her like a caress, and a shiver ran through her.
“Aw hell, ya haven’t needed a mentor in centuries. Friend is more accurate now.” The male strode toward her, stretching out his hand to shake hers. “Call me Gil.” Standing directly in front of her expectantly, he waited for her to grasp his hand. Her mind in chaos, she could only stare stupidly at it. “Yer ev’n prettier than I expected. And listenin’ to him go on an’ on about your beauty, I expected a lot.”
His friendly nature and patience finally broke through her stunned resistance. She reached out to shake his hand. “J … Jess Reed.” He politely ignored her obvious stutter.
Holding her hand for a moment longer than necessary, he leaned toward her and whispered conspiratorially in her ear. “Betcha feel like ya fell in a rabbit hole, ehh, Alice?” That brought a slight smile to her face. Gil stepped back, releasing her hand. What was that growling?
“Ya’ll have ta forgive my friend here if he bumbled with ya some. Ya see, apparently
you
cause all the blood in his body to re-locate. Turned my five-hundred-year-old friend here into a prepubescent, hormonal idiot, ya did.” Walking around her office while he spoke, he stopped here and there to look at pictures or pull down and read different awards. He even read her business license.
She glanced to Shane, still standing in exactly the same spot and position. He was watching her intently though his fangs had retracted. She looked back to Gil, who had made a full sweep of her office. The male talked about things completely foreign to her as if they were commonplace. Contradictory to how surreal that should feel to her, it was soothing listening to him. She even found herself relaxing in the charm he emanated.
“Now dunna ya get me wrong, lil Jess,” Gil continued. “Shane here could use some loosenin’ up, control freak that he is. Seein’ him blusterin’ and blunderin’ is pretty humorous, really.” He emphasized his point with a chuckle. “I wanted ta make sure fer myself that you dinna think us all linguistically stunted adolescents like Jerky Girl, or raptured boneheads like this one.” He thumbed in Shane’s direction.
Considering Gil spoke with the terrible combination of an Irish brogue and a Texas drawl, his calling Jerika linguistically stunted was something she couldn’t decide whether to take seriously or not.
“N-n-n-no,” she began, then cleared her throat. Giving Shane another quick glance, she turned back to Gil. “No, I don’t think that at all,” she defended. “Jerika reminds me of my little brother. He’s my foster brother. Not like you, er, us. I mean he’s normal … human,” she quickly clarified, cringing, not wanting them to suspect Eric of being something other than human.
“Well, I hope the boy ain’t normal. Normal’s overrated in any species. Dunna ya worry. We wonna hold his bein’ human against him.” Appreciating Gil’s easygoing response to what probably sounded insulting, Jess released a sigh of relief.
“Let me try that one again. Jerika reminds me of the girls Eric used to bring around when he was in high school. Finding out she’s fifty-two … threw me somewhat.” Jess had stepped in front of Shane in a classic defensive position. She didn’t realize what she’d done until she noticed the look of amusement Gil and Shane shared over the top of her head. Men.
****
Shane lifted his hands and placed them on Jess’s shoulders, lightly massaging away the irritation coursing through her. Listening to her, wow, defending him? According to her, he was tender, understanding, kind, gentle—pretty much a fucking saint. He could feel his head expanding at her every word. By the time she was through, it was all he could do not to blow on his fingernails and rub them on his shirt. All the while Gil listened to her intently, leaning back in the chair he had commandeered from one of the desks, his hands linked behind his head.
Realizing that Gil had worked on Jess to turn to Shane’s defense while not making himself out to be a bad guy either, Shane regretted not asking his friend for help talking to Jess in the first place. Not that he would want to change a second of the time he’d spent with her. He just wished he’d known how to alleviate her fear and confusion.
“So lemme get this straight. Yer tellin’ me I donna need ta take him out an’ kick the dog snot outta him?” Gil teased lightly. Shane felt Jess’s shoulders relax. She shook her head, reaching up to lay her hand over his. Gil gave Shane an “I told you so” look.
“Since you mentioned ‘linguistically challenged,’ where exactly do you get your accent?” Jess asked. Shane wondered if Gil would give her the truth considering it took four hundred years before he’d gotten a true answer out of the sarcastic bastard.
Gil glanced up Shane with a smirk. “Usually I give folks an annoyed look an’ say ‘what accent?’. Truth is I started doin’ it as a kid ta piss off my prim ’n’ proper mother. After awhile it just kinda stuck. So now you tell me, lil Jess, what comes next?”
Damn
, Shane thought to himself,
he actually told her the truth.
“Well.” Jess shrugged. Turning partially toward Shane and laying her head against his chest, she sighed. “If I am part Elven … Hulven, or whatever, the only one I have left is my dream aunt. There is my father, but from what I know he has never spoken or shown any cognitive thought process since he killed my mother.” She paused to chew on her bottom lip in thought. “You said I could do that poofing thing you do, right?” She looked up at Shane, and the trust in her eyes made him feel like his chest would explode. He could only manage a nod. “How?”
“Must say I like that terminology,” Gil piped in, chuckling. “Lil Jess, how ’bout you an’ Shane come to my place where ya can practice poofing later? Might be a smarter idea.” Then he was gone. Just like that. What the hell?
“Give up the deets, Woman.” Aymee came to a quick halt at the sight of Jess and Shane wrapped around each other. Looking Shane from head to toe, she raised an eyebrow at Jess. “Okay, you are completely forgiven for last night … boom chicka wawa.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down in jest, making Shane laugh and Jess giggle.
“You must be Aymee.” Shane reached out to shake Aymee’s hand, never releasing his hold on Jess against his chest. He had no intention of letting her go anytime soon. Forever sounded far enough away.
Chapter Ten
“
She just walked in.” Aymee
“
Where has she been all night?” Ellen
“
I have no idea, but I guarantee that is the first question I am asking.” Aymee
“
Well thank goodness she’s alright.” Ellen
“
Yeah call you back. Hey let Eric know she is alive, at least until I kill her myself.” Aymee
“
Yes, I will call him right now. Give her our love, thank you and we love you too, Aymee” Ellen
“
You too, bye.” Aymee
Moira waited until after Amyee and Ellen had both disconnected before releasing her line tap with a sigh of relief. It was helpful that Ellen hated cell phones and avoided them whenever possible, since Moira couldn’t listen in on those. She could follow call logs, but not content.
She had already known the minute Jess had pulled up in the Ryu parking lot. Jess and Aymee had installed a camera system right after they had gone into partnership. The interior cameras were closed circuit, so once Jess entered the building, Moira couldn’t see her. The external ones, however, were cordless, and she had been able to infiltrate the signals. Using them, she’d watched Jess pull into the parking lot. Now that she knew Jess was safe, she felt the adrenalin drain out of her body. Stretching, she realized she hadn’t left her computer banks in hours. Setting all the alert chimes for the different continual scans, Moira logged off. Picking up the empty plate, brought to her earlier by Jorie, she smiled, remembering the conversation.
“You didn’t come to breakfast or lunch,” Jorie had accused, “so I brought you a snack.”
Taking the plate from Jorie, Moira told her of her worries for Jess. Moira had to keep some secrets from Jorie, though she tried to keep them to a minimum. So far she’d never had to lie to a direct question.
At times it was hard for Moira to reconcile the differences between Jorie and Jess. Conceived within weeks of each other, they couldn’t be more different. Jess, being Hulven, had matured physically, emotionally, and mentally at the rate of a human. Jorie, a full Elven, was at twenty-six years old the age equivalent of a human thirteen-year-old just starting into puberty.
The differences didn’t stop there. Jess had taken more of her and Marja’s coloring and appearance, thankfully, since Moira had no idea who Jess’s father was. She felt a fresh wave of guilt for what Marja had endured.
Like her father Napoleon, Jorie’s hair was brown with soft, bouncy curls. She kept it shoulder length. Jorie liked to call the length long enough for a pony and short enough to not be a pain in the ass. Moira smiled at that analogy. Long, dark lashes surrounded the pale blue of her eyes, matching neither Moira nor Napoleon. She was never without a smile and a giggle. Her body was showing the beginning signs of the adult she would grow to be, and it was already apparent that Jorie would be far taller than Jess had grown to be.