“No I haven’t changed my mind about that,” Cale said grimly. “And please tell me that tonight was not some bright plan of yours to get Alex and me under the same roof.”
“Tonight?” Bricker asked, sounding uncertain. “No, I don’t think so. Why? What happened?”
“You didn’t get one of your buddies to attack Alex so that she’d be concussed, and I’d have to stay here the night to watch over her?” Cale asked, not really thinking he had but wanting to be sure. Bricker seemed to have some wild ideas. He was young enough to forget how fragile mortals were. And while the thought had just been a passing idea of possible culprits behind the attack, once it had slid through his mind, he hadn’t been able to shake it. However, Bricker’s horrified gasp and true shock now were hard to feign, he decided as Bricker cursed volubly and quite prolifically over the phone.
“No! Of course I didn’t have Alex attacked just soyou could get your groove on. Christ! What kind of man do you take me for? She’s Sam’s sister! Not to mention the best damned cook around! Jesus! She—Is she all right?” he interrupted himself to ask.
“She has a mild concussion. She’ll be fine. She’s supposed to take it easy for a couple of days though.”
Bricker grunted and then returned to his rant. “I can’t believe you’d think I was behind her being attacked. Sitting in a van twiddling my thumbs while you bone up is one thing, but attacking her? No way.”
“Bone up?” Cale asked uncertainly.
“Get a boner,” the man explained, and then added, “Or an erection to those of us too damned old to know modern lingo … not to mention be able to judge character anymore. You’ve spent too damned much time alone if you thought I’d—”
“I didn’t really,” Cale said quickly, hoping to bring his rant to an end. “It’s just that since it achieved what everyone was so eager to have happen, it occurred to me it might not be an accident.”
“Well, of course it’s not an accident,” Bricker snapped, still apparently annoyed. “You don’t accidentally attack someone, but I can promise I wasn’t behind it. And I know Mortimer wouldn’t do something like that either. As for Julius, I don’t know him all that well, but I don’t think he would … Now, Lucian might,” he added dryly. “That old hard-ass isn’t above doing anything so long as it achieves the wanted end. He’d think nothing of clubbing a gal over the head and dragging her to his cave.”
“How did you know she was dragged?” Cale askedsuspiciously, drawing a return of anger and another curse from Bricker.
“I was speaking metaphorically,” Bricker spat. “Christ, you really do think I’d do that kind of thing. What kind of guy do you take me for?”
“The kind of guy who suggests burning her house down so she has to come stay at my hotel,” Cale said dryly. It had been one of Bricker’s many very bad suggestions earlier that night.
“It was a joke! I was joking. Man, you old dudes are as lacking in humor as you are in wooing skills,” he snapped.
A small silence fell. When Bricker spoke again, Cale could hear the frown in his voice and knew the man had thought of something.
“I gather you didn’t see who it was?” he asked.
“No,” Cale admitted.
“But it was an immortal?”
Cale hesitated. “I can’t be sure of that. I didn’t see him, and Alex didn’t say anything that might reveal that it was. What are you thinking?”
Bricker was silent so long Cale didn’t think he’d answer, but then he said reluctantly, “We’ve been having some trouble with a particular rogue. A nofanger,” he added grimly.
Cale stiffened. His cousin, Decker, had mentioned this at the wedding reception in New York. A no-fanger named Leonius had kidnapped and turned Decker’s life mate, Dani, as well as her teenage sister, Stephanie, and seemed to want them back.
“I know about Leonius from Decker,” Cale said now.
“But what would make you think he’d wish to harm Alex?”
“Well, one of his sons attacked Alex and Sam’s younger sister, Jo, planning to take her back to his father. He seemed to think Leonius would enjoy gaining a little revenge on us through her.” He let that sink in and then added, “It’s possible this is the same thing. Not likely,” he added quickly, “But possible.”
Cale frowned. “I don’t know. She has had an awful run of bad luck lately, and I’ve been wondering if it was all connected.”
“Yeah, she has,” Bricker agreed, and then said, “But I don’t think Leonius or his sons would bother with the little problems she’s been having.”
“Those
little
problems damn near ruined her,” Cale murmured, thinking about all the wrong deliveries and defecting employees.
“Maybe, but Leonius isn’t the kind of guy who seeks revenge by ruining people. His type of revenge is more a rape-and-torture-type deal.”
“Bev said Alex’s assailant was trying to drag Alex behind the Dumpster.”
“Trying, huh?” Bricker said thoughtfully. “Not likely an immortal then. Any one of us could pick her up with one hand and take her wherever we want her to go. Hell, we wouldn’t even have to pick her up, we could make her go where we want with mind control … well, the rest of us could. Not you, of course.”
“Hmm,” Cale murmured, but the revenge business was still in his head. Now that he was thinking it, this whole situation reminded him a great deal of the eventsleading up to the deaths of his father and brothers. They’d suffered a lot of accidents prior to the ambush as well: defective weapons, suddenly wild horses throwing their riders, and fires. They later realized that those “accidents” were all due to his father’s competitor, who had been working himself up to the ambush that killed Cale’s father and so many of his brothers.
“I’ll talk to Mortimer and see what he thinks, and then get back to you tomorrow. In the meantime, you should really get to sleep and get those shared dreams going.”
Cale grimaced at the suggestion, and reminded him, “She has a splitting headache, Bricker.”
“I thought that was a married woman’s complaint?” Bricker responded quickly, and then laughed at his own joke as he hung up.
Cale shook his head and snapped his phone closed with a sigh. Justin Bricker was an annoying little punk. And Cale was actually starting to like him.
Running a hand through his hair, he glanced around the kitchen. Alex had said to make himself at home. It was a good thing since he was now hungry … and for more than food. Unfortunately, Alex wouldn’t have a couple of pints of O positive around. She would have food though. Cale would settle for that for now. He wasn’t sure how much of the cramping in his stomach was for food and how much was a need for blood. If the food helped, he’d hold out until morning. If not, he’d have to call and see if a special delivery could be made.
Cale moved to the cupboards and began opening them. There was loads of food, but it all seemed to bein boxes or cans with cooking involved. He wasn’t in the mood to try that again, so tried the refrigerator next. He’d struck gold. There were several premade meals inside, all merely needing a moment or so in the microwave. Cale had seen Alex use the microwave at the new restaurant several times. She’d brought him lunch every day this last week when she’d checked in to see how things were going, and he’d watched her pop them in the microwave and punch buttons to set it working. He could do that.
Cale chose a plate of lasagne, set it in the microwave, and then peered at the panel. It took him a couple of tries, but then he figured out that he had to hit cook, how long he wanted it to cook for, and then the start button to work the machine. Sighing with satisfaction as the microwave began to hum, Cale stepped back, and then reached for his phone when it rang.
“Yeah,” Bricker said as soon as Cale said hello. “So Lucian happened to come in as I was telling Mortimer about Alex’s being attacked, and then Sam overheard part of the conversation, and now they both want—Hey!”
There was a rustling, and then Lucian barked, “I’m sending Bricker over to read Alex’s mind and see if she caught a glimpse of her attacker. If it’s an immortal, I want to know.”
“She said she didn’t see him,” Cale said calmly.
“She’s a mortal with a head wound,” Lucian said dryly. “She doesn’t know what she knows.”
“Right,” Cale said on a sigh, and then thought to ask, “If Bricker’s coming over, have him bring some blood.”
Lucian grunted what might have been agreement, and then apparently handed the phone to Sam because her voice was the next to speak.
“Bricker said Alex was all right. She is, isn’t she?” she asked anxiously.
“She’s fine,” Cale said soothingly, glancing toward the microwave when a small popping sound came from inside. The Saran Wrap covering the dish had swollen like a balloon and now had tomato sauce splashed inside as if the sauce were boiling and bubbling, though it didn’t appear to be.
“Bricker said she had a concussion,” Sam said, reclaiming his attention.
“A mild concussion, yes,” he admitted. “But she never lost consciousness, so they said it was all right for her to come home so long as she took it easy for the next couple of days, and there was someone here to keep an eye on her, which I’m doing,” he assured her. “I’ve checked on her several times already and intend to continue checking on her through the night. I’ll also stick around and keep an eye on her tomorrow.”
“Good,” Sam breathed, and then asked worriedly, “She’s supposed to take it easy the next couple of days? What about the restaurant?”
“I guess I’ll have to find someone to cook for her tomorrow night,” Cale said with a sigh, wondering who the hell he would find for that.
“Good luck with that,” Sam said dryly, and then warned, “Even if you do find someone to replace her at the restaurant, I don’t envy you trying to make her takeit easy. She’s not a good patient. She’ll fret at staying in tomorrow.”
“Well, the doctor said she was to take it easy, so she’ll just have to take it easy,” Cale said grimly. “We can stay in and watch movies or something.”
“Yes, well I recommend you start with that, but if she gets stubborn, suggest antiquing,” Sam told him.
“Antiquing?” he asked with surprise.
“Yes. Just look around you. Alex loves antiquing, and it’s not very strenuous. She’ll walk slowly through the shops to look at everything, and you can recommend breaks for coffee and lunch between each place.”
Cale didn’t have to glance around. He had noticed several antiques when he’d followed Alex in earlier. He’d never heard of antiquing before, but guessed it was buying old stuff and supposed he could bear it to keep Alex from doing anything too strenuous.
“Bricker’s ready to head over, and he wants his phone back, but would you mind calling me tomorrow to let me know how she is? Or have her call?” Sam asked.
“Yes, of course,” Cale said, giving a start as a much louder pop sounded from inside the microwave. Turning, he saw that the plastic had burst and tomato was now splattered on the door’s glass window. He started toward the microwave, but paused as Bricker’s voice sounded over the phone.
“I’ll be there as quick as I can, but it will probably take forty-five minutes or so to cross town,” he announced.
Cale grunted in response and continued on to the microwave, peering in with worry at what was supposed to be his meal.
“Is there anything you want me to bring with me or pick up on the way?” Bricker asked.
Cale peered at the mess inside the microwave, but shook his head, and said, “No thanks. There’s plenty of food and coffee here.”
“Right. See you soon then,” Bricker said.
Cale nodded and hung up before he realized his nod wouldn’t have been seen. Shrugging, he slid the phone into his pocket and peered at the microwave panel, searching for the button to shut it off. He’d check his lasagne, clean the inside of the machine and put it on for another ten minutes if it wasn’t done. He’d put a different cover on it though. Unfortunately, while he’d watched her press buttons, he hadn’t really paid much attention to what Alex used to heat things up in the microwave, but it seemed obvious he needed something heavier than that plastic wrap. Maybe a plastic lid would be better, he thought as he spotted a button labeled clear/stop and pressed it.
Cale had just set the microwave running again for
the sixth time when he heard the knock on the door. Knowing it would be Bricker, he hurried out of the kitchen with relief and strode up the hall to open the front door.
“Hi,” Bricker greeted cheerfully. “I brought—” He stopped abruptly when Cale flipped open the lid of the small cooler he’d just lifted and snatched out a bag of blood to slap to his teeth.
“Hungry I guess,” Bricker said wryly, following him into the house when Cale turned and led the way back up the hall to the kitchen. “I only brought four bags. I figure you can’t keep it in the refrigerator here anyway, and I can bring more by tomorrow if you can’t get away to get your own.”
Cale grunted agreement around the bag in his mouth as he went through the kitchen door, then cursed aroundit as well and rushed for the microwave when he spotted the sparks flying off the pan inside.
“What the hell are you doing?” Bricker asked with horror, setting the cooler on the kitchen table and rushing to his side in front of the microwave. The minute Cale hit the clear/stop button, Bricker jerked the door open and then glanced around for a towel to pull out the pan. “Cripes, you never put metal inside a microwave.”
“Well the plastic kept melting,” Cale muttered, tearing the now-empty bag from his teeth as the younger immortal dropped the pan in the sink.
“Jesus, you don’t put plastic inside either unless it’s microwaveable,” he said with disgust, then stopped talking and turned slowly, his mouth dropping open as he peered at the various plates around the room. He moved to the closest one and asked, “What’s this?”
“Exploded lasagne,” Cale said on a sigh.
“Exploded?” Bricker asked, arching an eyebrow.
“The plastic wrap burst and the lasagne kind of exploded all over the inside of the microwave.” He grimaced with disgust. “It was a hell of a mess.”
“Ah,” Bricker murmured and gestured to the next dish. “And this?”