Dead as a doornail - By Charlaine Harris Page 0,99

and second-guessing.

“I suspect the Weres are going to invite you to their little packleader shindig,” Calvin said. He took my hand. His was warm and dry.

I nodded.

“I bet you’ll go,” he said.

“I think I have to,” I said uneasily, wondering what his goal was.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Calvin said. “I have no authority over you.” He didn’t sound too happy about that. “But if you go, please watch your back. Not for my sake; that don’t mean nothing to you, yet. But for yourself.”

“I can promise that,” I said after a careful pause. Calvin was not a guy to whom you blurted the first idea in your head. He was a serious man.

Calvin gave me one of his rare smiles. “You’re a damn fine cook,” he said. I smiled back.

“Thank you, sir,” I said, and got up. His hand tightened on mine and pulled. You don’t fight a man who’s just gotten out of the hospital, so I bent toward him and laid my cheek to his lips.

“No,” he said, and when I turned a little to find out what was wrong, he kissed me on the lips.

Frankly, I expected to feel nothing. But his lips were as warm and dry as his hands, and he smelled like my cooking, familiar and homey. It was surprising, and surprisingly comfortable, to be so close to Calvin Norris. I backed off a little, and I am sure my face showed the mild shock I felt. The werepanther smiled and released my hand.

“The good thing about being in the hospital was you coming to see me,” he said. “Don’t be a stranger now that I’m home.”

“Of course not,” I said, ready to be out of the room so I could regain my composure.

The outer room had emptied of most of its crowd while I talked to Calvin. Crystal and Jason had vanished, and Maryelizabeth was gathering up plates with the help of an adolescent werepanther. “Terry,” Maryelizabeth said with a sideways inclination of her head. “My daughter. We live next door.”

I nodded to the girl, who gave me a darting look before turning back to her task. She was not a fan of mine. She was from the fairer bloodstock, like Maryelizabeth and Calvin, and she was a thinker. “Are you going to marry my dad?” she asked me.

“I’m not planning on marrying anyone,” I said cautiously. “Who’s your dad?”

Maryelizabeth gave Terry a sidelong look that promised Terry she’d be sorry later. “Terry is Calvin’s,” she said.

I was still puzzled for a second or two, but suddenly, the stance of both the younger and the older woman, their tasks, their air of comfort in this house, clicked into place.

I didn’t say a word. My face must have shown something, for Maryelizabeth looked alarmed, and then angry.

“Don’t presume to judge how we live our life,” she said. “We are not like you.”

“That’s true,” I said, swallowing my revulsion. I forced a smile to my lips. “Thank you for introducing me around. I appreciate it. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“We can take care of it,” said Terry, giving me another look that was a strange combination of respect and hostility.

“We should never have sent you to school,” Maryelizabeth said to the girl. Her wide-spaced golden eyes were both loving and regretful.

“Good-bye,” I said, and after I recovered my coat, I left the house, trying not to hurry. To my dismay, Patrick Furnan was waiting for me beside my car. He was holding a motorcycle helmet under his arm, and I spotted the Harley a little farther down the road.

“You interested in hearing what I’ve got to say?” the bearded Were asked.

“No, actually not,” I told him.

“He’s not going to keep on helping you out for nothing,” Furnan said, and my whole head snapped around so I could look at this man.

“What are you talking about?”

“A thank-you and a kiss ain’t going to hold him. He’s going to demand payment sooner or later. Won’t be able to help it.”

“I don’t recall asking you for advice,” I said. He stepped closer. “And you keep your distance.” I let my gaze roam to the houses surrounding us. The watchful gaze of the community was full upon us; I could feel its weight.

“Sooner or later,” Furnan repeated. He grinned at me suddenly. “I hope it’s sooner. You can’t two-time a Were, you know. Or a panther. You’ll get ripped to shreds between’em.”

“I’m not two-timing anyone,” I said, frustrated almost beyond bearing