“No need to check, you look fantastic from every angle. Sorry for the scare.” He came closer and looked over my shoulder into the mirror, where our eyes met. I glanced down, my cheeks flushing.
If Zane discovered my indiscretion and lies, I doubted he’d be so appreciative. Pushing the thoughts aside, I focused on my husband. “Are you sure this is appropriate?”
He shook his head, chuckling softly. “Chloe, Chloe. You have no idea just how enticing you are, do you?” He didn’t wait for my response. “That suit shows just enough leg to be appealing, but not overly flashy. Ivory is the perfect shade for your skin tone, and by wearing a wine-colored blouse, you’ve added the perfect touch. Not to mention, I’ve never seen you with your hair like that.”
Taken aback by his detailed appraisal, I eyed my hair. A majority of the time I left my long ringlets to hang loose, or, occasionally, in hot weather, I’d pull my hair up high in what my mom referred to as my “pebbles ponytail,” named after little Pebbles from the Flintstones.
This morning, I’d used a hair-straightener to force my curls into submission. And, with the miraculous help from some over-priced hair products, I’d managed to manipulate my hair into a smooth twist on top of my head. Zane’s continued admiration confirmed I’d made a good choice.
Alcuin’s — who is your favorite flavor question — continued to harass me.
Who is my favorite flavor? — Vampire or werewolf — bark verses bite.
Standing here in the daylight, without Valamir’s vamp magic messing with my mind, I felt certain that the magnificent man behind me was exactly who I needed and wanted in my life. The choice seemed so obvious.
However, I couldn’t stop replaying last night’s erotic interlude with the vampire warrior. His fangs piercing my neck had caused me to climax — an embarrassing incident I’d take to my grave.
A grave that I just might find myself buried in if I wasn’t careful.
Both my so-called flavors had vicious sides to their charismatic personas. Should they turn their anger toward me ...
“Are you all right?” Zane leaned down and nipped my neck, sending a jolt of excitement everywhere at once. When had I developed such a sensitive neck?
“I’m just nervous.” At least that wasn’t a lie.
Nervous. Anxious. Terrified of losing you. The last thought startled me.
After everything we’d experienced together, I couldn’t imagine my life without Zane. I didn’t want to need anybody, least of all someone whose approval mattered enough for me to fear losing it.
“There’s no need to be nervous. You’ll do great. Remember, turn on the mini-recorder.” He handed me the tiny recording device. “It will pick up everything. That way, you can concentrate on the animals. Make notes about your discoveries and let the recorder handle the meeting. We’ll find someone to transcribe later.”
“Where do you come up with all this?” I wondered out loud.
Before meeting the werewolves, I’d been pretty much a day-to-day, go-with-the-flow kind of gal. All this planning and plotting was new to me, although I was adapting fast enough to have already devised a plan of my own. I hoped I could find the Smart boy.
I had three plausible locations to check out. The first, not far from my parent’s house, was a well-known institution for mentally disturbed boys and girls, ages five to eighteen. It was the largest of the three, and housed the most residents, making it, in my opinion, the least likely. The other two were closer to downtown Portland. One in the West Hill’s area served just eight clients at a time. The cost for this program was astronomical. As far as I knew, the Smart’s salaries were modest, but what did I know? They could have saved their money wisely, or relied on a rich relative.
Thirdly, and what I considered my best option for finding Joshua Smart, was a newer, state run, research facility that specialized in helping children recover from traumatic experiences. They’d been featured on a special news report awhile back and had a reputation of taking on high profile cases. Joshua fit that category.
One problem with this location was the intense security. Some of their patients had committed pretty heinous crimes. Alcuin had again offered to remedy the situation. I’d make it my first stop, giving him the opportunity to enter and observe.
Worried about the old vampire myths that required blood suckers to obtain permission before entering, I’d made sure to question Alcuin. After all,