Halflings Page 20

  “You have, in fact, met me. Years ago. I stop in a couple times a year to say hello to your parents, but it’s usually during the day when you’re at school. Sometimes we meet up at an auction or antique weapons show. In fact, I was with them just a few weeks ago. Around the time school started.”

  The memory of the lab fire raced into her mind. She had heard his voice …

  Vessler slid a hand to her shoulder. “I’m sorry about Bo. I know it must have been hard for you to lose him.”

  Confusion changed her focus. “You know about my dog? He died three weeks ago. Why would my parents bring it up to you?”

  “I bought Bo for you.”

  She stood from her squatted position. “What?” Time to panic; this was beyond weird.

  “It was about eight years ago. I’d visited with your mom and dad most of the morning, and they kept talking about how badly you wanted a puppy. So I said, let’s go shopping.” He dropped the kickstand and stepped off the bike. “I had a friend who raised Labrador Retrievers. One call and boom. You got Bo.”

  She frowned, searching her memory. “My parents never told me that. I always thought they bought him at a pet store.”

  “Well, parents don’t tell their kids everything. Here,” he said, gesturing to the bike. “Your turn. Sit on her.”

  She blinked. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “You know you’re going to after I leave, so might as well start now.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks, but her smile chased it away.

  Charming. That’s all she could think of to describe Damon Vessler. She’d discovered that he was a genius who’d graduated college at fifteen with a master’s degree in Biology, owned several companies, some kind of mine, and was filthy, stinkin’ rich. And somehow, after they returned from the garage, his plans had changed.

  Vessler seemed to have a way of gently pushing the conversation until he obtained his desired effect. In the middle of coffee, which Mom had insisted on serving, he’d winked at Nikki, and within minutes her dad was no longer Vessler’s ride to the airport.

  Yep. That’s right. She should call Mace and let him know, but the desire to do so escaped her. Still licking her wounds after the Golden Girls’ backyard display, she wasn’t in the mood to have Mace tailing her or pressing for information about her new friend. And though Vessler sent off warning bells throughout her system, she couldn’t fathom why. He’d been nothing but nice. Her mom and dad seemed fine with him now. Of course, there was that conversation she’d overheard, but she must have heard wrong. Or maybe she’d read too much into it.

  No, she wasn’t going to call Mace and tell him, that much she’d decided. However, the idea of her angel seeing her with Damon sent an evil thrill down her spine, one guilt quickly swallowed.

  “Everything okay, Nikki?” Damon asked.

  “Huh?” she said, and realized her forehead was starting to ache from the deep frown.

  “You look troubled.” She realized they were once again in the garage. She watched as he secured the bike, pulled the key from the ignition, and used his sleeve to shine a spot on the gas tank. But when he pivoted and his eyes blazed to Nikki, she gained his entire focus. “You’re far too young and beautiful to get wrinkles. Now, tell me what’s troubling you and how I can fix it.”

  “Fix it?” She laughed. “No way that I can see.”

  He propped his hands on his hips, gold bracelet blinking. “Everything can be fixed with either time or money.”

  “Is that what life has taught you?” she said.

  “Yes. Unfortunately, time refuses to slow down for me no matter how badly I desire it.”

  “Why would you want time to slow down? You’re about …” Her eyes traced his youthful hair, his trendy clothes. “Twenty-five, right?”

  A chuckle jostled his head. “Yeah, uh … pretty close. Now, what’s the answer? Time or money?”

  “My problem can’t be fixed with either,” she said.

  “Ah, boy trouble.”

  She exhaled while they crossed the garage. “I like this guy. And he likes me. But this … new girl shows up, and she’s all perfect and gorgeous. He promptly forgets about me, which is actually good because we’re a terrible match.”

  Damon paused at the doorway. “I can’t imagine anyone in their right mind forgetting about you, Nikki.”

  Uncomfortable with his words, she clasped her hands together.

  “Your answer is simple,” he said. “Fight fire with fire.”

  She frowned. Damon was full of advice, much of it contrary to what she believed. But could he be right?

  He held a hand in the air, palm up. “You’re already a beautiful girl and you don’t even try. Why not hit the salon for a new hairstyle, go shopping for some sexy clothes, don a little makeup. You’d be a knockout.”

  She scrunched her face. “It’s just not me.”

  “And is the current me getting what she wants?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Take me, for instance. I was a skinny, gawky, glasses-wearing geek when I started college at age thirteen. But I looked around and decided I wanted to blend in as much as an adolescent can at college. Know what I did?”

  She shook her head.

  “I befriended the football team. You may not know this, but some jocks aren’t the sharpest tools in the drawer. I tutored them through physics and English literature, and they taught me how to work out. I studied their mannerisms, lifestyles, interactions.”

  She pointed at him. “And you made the football team the following year?”

  He laughed. “At a staggering hundred and twenty pounds? Hardly. Remember, know your boundaries.”

  “You don’t look like a jock. You look more like a rock star.”

  “You can be whoever you want, Nikki. That was then, this is now. The beauty of being a human is free will.”

  The beauty of being a human is free will? Why would he say it that way? As cautious as he seemed with his words — choosing each one with care — why would a statement like that surface? Unless, of course, the idea of both human and nonhuman beings roaming the earth was so commonplace to him he wouldn’t think to guard his words.

  When she didn’t answer, Damon continued, “You can change your destiny to suit your own needs.”

  She had to admit, it sounded good. But something wrenched in her gut at this new way of viewing life. It felt wrong. Too egocentric, too self-serving. Wasn’t there a name for people like that?

  Nikki cleared her head. Damon was trying to help her. How could she find fault in that? Still, a tiny voice inside begged caution, not unlike the voice that warned her about Raven. She was getting good at ignoring its plea.

  His face slid into a grin. “I know what will cheer you up.” He crossed the garage to the Ducati, studied it a moment, and tossed her the keys.

  As she caught them overhead, surprise siphoned the blood from her face.

  Damon laughed. “Don’t look so scared. Your dad told me you’re an expert rider.”

  “But.” Her eyes flew to the keys. “But, this is a hundred-thousand-dollar motorcycle.”

  “No.” His smile faded. “This is my possession. It serves me, Nikki. Not the other way around. I didn’t purchase this bike to worship it. I appreciate it, but it’s nothing more than a piece of equipment designed to bring me joy. And right now, it would bring me a lot of joy to see you ride.”

  She clutched the keys hard enough it hurt her fingers. Would she argue? No.

  Hands on his hips, he seemed to enjoy her lack of composure. “You have an extra helmet?”

  Her head bobbed of its own accord. She snagged the helmet from the counter, where tools and old weapons littered the space. “So, we’ll go for a quick ride before I take you to the airport?” she asked, fearing and anticipating the answer.

  “No, we’ll ride the Ducati to the airport, then you can bring her home.”

  “I had a feeling you’d say that,” she mumbled. She placed her leg over the bike with painfully slow motion
s, then exhaled. “Okay.” Her hands shook as she lowered them to the handlebars.

  His smile turned up a notch as he stepped to the front of the bike, straddled the front tire, and placed his hands near hers. “You’ll never make it out of the garage like that. Didn’t your sensei teach you how to control your emotions?”

  She nodded. “Sensei Coble says to draw on the well of calm within.”

  His black gaze flashed to her still-quaking hands. “Looks like you need more practice. Close your eyes, Nikki,” he ordered.

  She swallowed past the lump and obeyed.

  “Now take a deep breath,” he whispered. “Tune in to your breathing. Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. Slowly, slowly. Yes, that’s it.”

  It disturbed her how comfortable she felt in the presence of this man she barely knew. He was like hot and cold converging and creating a perfect temperature, and she wondered about his motives. Her eyes flew open to gauge him.

  He dropped his hands, a lazy grin of smug delight animating his face. “See? You’re calm now.”

  Outwardly, yes. But warning bells jolted her gut once more. There was something unsettling about his voice, about the satisfaction that drifted from his lips like drops of honey drawing her to an infested hive. She pushed the burdensome chains of propriety aside and focused on the present. I’m about to ride a Ducati concept bike!

  Raven chewed his lip. This may not rank at the top of his best ideas list, but he had to get some answers. Everything in this journey pointed to Nikki. But his gut, his heart, swore Dr. Richmond was the key.

  Nikki’s name had been in the Omega computer, and she had been continually attacked. Not once had an enemy — human, demon, or Halfling — come after Richmond. Could the fight he’d stopped in science class have been an attempt on Richmond? Possibly. But please. Camo jacket and a hunting knife? Is that all you’ve got?

  Raven paused at the front door of the one-story ranch-style house. Flower pots decorated a cozy front porch. A pair of muddy tennis shoes lounged at the foot of a white column anchoring the steps.

  Homey. Barf.

  He changed his mind and started back down the steps. Will wouldn’t approve of him coercing information from a science teacher. Then again, Will didn’t approve of a lot of things. Raven returned to the door and knocked.

  A fiftyish woman with a smiling face and glasses thick enough to rival Richmond’s own goofy goggles answered the door.

  If she stared at the sun, she’d burst into flames.

  “Hello,” she said and pushed the screen door open.

  Nice. I could be here to rob you and you just removed every obstacle. Humans were so trusting. “Hi. I’m one of —”

  “One of my husband’s students,” she finished for him. “Come in.” She gestured with her free hand while tossing her head back. “Bill, someone’s here to see you.” Her attention returned to Raven. “It’s a good thing you young people stop by periodically or I’d never get him out of the lab.”

  “The lab?”

  “Such as it is. You know scientists, always tinkering.” When Dr. Richmond appeared in a doorway adjacent to the living room, she turned toward him. “I’ll fix you two some iced tea.”

  “Raven,” Richmond said, crossing the room with his hand out. “Great to see you.”

  Please. You deal with teenagers all day. Stop with the sappy, gooey niceness. It makes me want to vomit. Raven shook his hand. “It sounds like I’m interrupting you. I can come back later.” Actually, he didn’t care if he was interrupting or not. But the admission should spark some info about the lab Mrs. Goggles mentioned.

  “Not at all. I was just puttering around in my basement laboratory.”

  “Basement laboratory?” He feigned interest. “That sounds so cool.”

  “Would you like to see it?”

  Sucker. “I would. I’m getting really interested in science since I started your class. You make it come alive, ya know?”

  Richmond beamed like he’d just won the Pulitzer. “I do?”

  So genuine, Raven almost felt guilty. Almost. “Yeah, so seeing a real lab would be exciting.”

  After snagging the iced teas from his wife, Richmond flipped the stairwell light with his elbow. “Follow me.” He grinned like a goofy kid and practically waltzed his way down the stairs. At the bottom, he handed Raven a tea.

  Raven’s sharp senses absorbed everything in the lab. Eyes scanned the perimeter: beakers, test tubes, a computer. He sniffed. A bouquet of chemicals dotted the air. Magnesium, copper, even bleach, all blending with the scent of a Bunsen burner flame. And … lemon? His gaze fell to the iced drink, lemon slice decorating the rim. Moron.

  “Cool lab.” Raven tried to sound convincing. He might as well have said, Oh boy, this sure is a neat laboratory. “What do you do in here?”

  “Well,” Richmond said, abandoning his tea on the counter. Three half-empty glasses would keep it company. “I’m interested in genetics. I’ve actually been working on splicing some DNA from one type of reptile into another unable to spawn in cool temperatures.”

  Booooring. “Wow, that’s amazing.” Raven took a drink. Black Pekoe and brewed in the coffeepot. Yuck. “Snakes, right?”

  Richmond’s eyes widened with surprise.

  “Snakes can only spawn after their temperature heats to a certain level,” Raven said.

  “Exactly.” Excitement laced Richmond’s voice.

  Doofus, you told us that in class last week. “So, you’re interested in snakes?”

  “Not snakes specifically. I’m interested in what happens when gene sequences are altered. I believe things, even behaviors, can be manipulated if the right sequences are modified.”

  They chatted on the better part of an hour. Raven snapped mental photographs of the entire place. Far as he could tell, there was little to learn. Bummer. He’d planned on being the big shot with the key information, and now his hopes were ruined because a squirrely little scientist couldn’t muster anything more interesting than snake DNA.

  Richmond escorted him toward the door, still yammering about snake genes. When they passed through the hallway, a photo caught Raven’s attention.

  Richmond pointed. “Oh, that’s my daughter.”

  The pretty, shapely blonde looked nothing like her pudgy, geeky mom and dad. The sand and water in the background suggested a beach somewhere tropical and perfect. She squinted in the sun, but an open-mouthed smile made him smile back. He caught himself. “Excuse me for saying, Dr. Richmond, but your daughter is ridiculously hot.”

  Richmond sighed, pulled the glasses from his nose, and wiped them on his shirttail — an action Raven decided was more from nervous habit than necessity. “Unfortunately, you’re not the first young man to mention that.”

  A wicked grin laced Raven’s face. “Where is she?”

  He straightened slightly, eyes round. “You are, however, the first to ask that!”

  Raven wiggled his brows.

  “Away at college. Missouri University. I worry about her though.”

  “You should. Probably every guy there is trying to … never mind.”

  His brow furrowed. “Yes, well. There’s that too.”

  “Huh?” Raven said.

  “Jessica is diabetic. She has to give herself insulin shots daily.” He heaved a breath. “I worry. So many distractions at school, I’m afraid she’ll forget.”

  “Would that be so bad? I mean, to forget one day?”

  Richmond tugged his glasses from his face again. “It would be devastating.”

  Raven threw a last long look to Jessica Richmond, then headed for the door.

  Once outside, he listened as the screen screeched shut. Scientists were weirdos. Freakish and abnormal. Though who was he to talk about abnormal? Take a look in the mirror, dude. Pausing, he considered the comfy, cozy porch. Eyes closing, he drew its scent into his lungs. Pie crumbs under the porch swing, the remnants of newspaper and ink, and … horse manure. His eyes flew open. Ferti
lizer in the plants? No. He sniffed again. His gaze traipsed to the foot of the column anchoring the top step.

  The tennis shoes. One shoestring was frayed, dark at the end as if trampled frequently. The soles were spotted with fresh clumps of dirt. Raven bent closer and took another whiff. Richmond wasn’t telling all his secrets.

  Raven tucked into the trees at the edge of Richmond’s house. He snapped his wings open and leapt.

  Chapter

  21

  Wow, what’s this?” Nikki asked as her dad unfolded the cloth encasing an ornate sword. Watching her dad’s attention to detail as he worked cleaning and polishing bits of history had always been calming for her. When she was little, he’d raise the weapon for her inspection. She’d giggle then give her nod of approval.

  Nikki needed calming right now. An invisible force had pressed against her chest for so long, she’d started to think it normal. But that pressure was, in a word, foreboding.

  It was an ominous notion or perhaps a promise. Though things seemed bad, rocky, and unstable, the ground on which she stood felt about to break free, proving life could get infinitely worse.

  “This, my dear, is our Hawaiian vacation.” He caressed the shimmering gold weapon lovingly and hummed some island tune.

  “It’s amazing. New?” She leaned her weight on the garage counter to get a better look.

  “Nah, about five hundred years old.” Her dad flipped a switch and a bright work light illuminated the weapon.

  She tilted a brow. “New to you?”

  “Yes. We found it in an antique store in Arkansas. The shop was going out of business and we purchased a footlocker filled with junk.” He angled the sword one way, then the other. “Or so we thought. This and a half-dozen other extremely valuable weapons were inside as well.”

  Nikki ran a thumb over the blade. “Still sharp. What were weapons like this doing in a footlocker in Arkansas?”