Strange Neighbors (20 page)

   Snapping to attention, he read the words while they appeared on his screen.

   You're not losing it. It's me, Chad.

   "Fuck." Jason took an unconscious step away from his desk.

   Then the words, So, how's my investigation going? typed themselves.

   "Uh… Okay, I guess. Damn, this is weird, Chad."

   So what? Talk to me.

   "I hired someone. He's supposed to be the best. Dottie said you were anxious, so she was going to set up a meeting. I don't know when it is, but I'll find out. I promise." Aware he was beginning to babble, Jason stopped himself.

   The words Good boy appeared on the monitor.

   A nervous chuckle escaped. "So, were you the one who wanted to give me advice just now?"

   Don't want to, but you probably need to hear it.

   Jason took a deep breath. "Okay… Let's have it." He flinched, thinking he could have worded that a little better.

   Your girl is going through some heavy shit. She was there for you, man. Now it's your turn. Don't be uncool.

Too stunned to speak, he simply nodded his head.

A knock at the door provided a welcome interruption.

   He hoped it was Merry. This "heavy shit" Chad spoke of had him intensely curious and feeling more than a little protective.

   When he opened the door to find Dottie standing there, his hopes crashed, but he was still glad for the distraction.

   "Hi, Aunt Dottie." He almost asked how everything was in his absence, but figured she'd tell him anyway. Part of him didn't even want to know.

   "Hello, Jason, dear. Welcome home. How was your trip? How's your father?"

   "Much better. They have him on a special diet and exercise program, and he's already—"

   "Yes, that's nice. Good to hear. Now, about that ghost of ours… I made the appointment with the private detective. I'd like to be part of the meeting, if you don't mind."

   Jason's warning bell sounded, but agreeing to it would get her out of his hair faster.

   "Sure. When is it?"

   "Friday. Ten a.m. You should be able to make that, right?"

   Since his schedule was flexible, consisting of working out in the early morning and seeing Merry after she woke up at ten most mornings, it was perfect. "That's fine. I'll come down for you at about nine-thirty."

   "Oh, no. The meeting is going to be held here. Chad wants to attend. Morgaine will be there too since she seems to be able to communicate with him but I don't want that nasty Nathan fellow involved."

"The guy from 1A who works in a morgue?"

   "Yes, there's something about him I don't like. I can't put a finger on it. Can you do anything about him?"

   He almost groaned aloud. "Do anything? Like what?"

   She shrugged. "Talk to him?"

   "About changing his personality?" Jason shook his head. "I honestly don't think you can ask someone to be something they're not."

   Dottie jammed one hand on her hip. "Well, does he have to be an asshole?"

   "Aunt Dottie!" He laughed. "I've never heard you talk like that."

   "Oh, you may hear me use even more colorful language if I continue to feel insulted and disrespected around here. I honestly don't know why people don't like me. I'm such a nice person. And I've never done anything to them…"

   The elevator whirred behind her. Oh, please be Merry!

   "But you're right," she said. "First things first. And the most important thing is getting rid of that damn ghost."

   "Uh, Aunt Dottie. You might want to lower your voice. I'm pretty sure he's here."

   She gasped. "Here? Now? How do you know? Is Morgaine around?"

   "No, it's just you, me, and Chad. He typed a message while I was on the computer."

   Her face scrunched and she bit out, "Oh, sure. He finds a way to talk to you." She stormed over to his computer, but Jason beat her to it and turned it off. "What did he say? He talks to everyone except me. Me, he attacks!"

"Attacks? How?"

   "He practically froze me in my perfectly warm apartment. And let's not forget the box incident. I know he stuck that there just so I'd trip over it."

   "I'm sure he's not attacking you, Aunt Dottie. He just wants to get your attention."

   "Oh yeah? Well, he has a hell of a nerve scaring me out of my wits. And what could he want from me, anyway? A sandwich? He's dead!"

   Thankfully the elevator door opened and Merry stepped from it. Dottie eyed her hand—the one holding Jason's key.

Oh, no. What am I going to tell him? MERRY STOOD JUST inside Jason's apartment even after his aunt left, hesitating to move further.

   He strolled over and stroked her arms as he scrutinized her face. "You look a little freaked out. Is it because I gave you a key, or is it something else?"

   "Uh… No. I mean, yes. I mean…" She took a deep breath and stalled. What the hell do I do? He'll think I'm nuts if I tell him the truth.

   He wrapped one arm around her waist and escorted her to the couch. "Here. Sit. Let me get you a glass of wine. Then we can talk."

   She nodded and sank down onto the low white sofa. Maybe she could stall for time if she spilled red wine on his white couch? Nah, he'd probably tell her not to clean it so he could throw it out and start over.

   Sly had asked her not to tell Jason about his place in the basement. For a vampire to find a lair that wouldn't be discovered and build a false wall with a hidden entrance took a lot of time and trouble. Plus, he had friends here. Konrad in particular, but he went to Morgaine for spells, too. Spells? Real magic? Really? Was anyone in this building normal?

   He promised that he never killed in their neighborhood, well, except for the one time he and Konrad had saved her—probably. He hadn't come right out and said it, but she could extrapolate. He'd said he only hunted vermin. When she asked, specifically, if he meant animal or human, he simply looked away and changed the subject. Avenging angel? Crime fighter? I guess it could be worse.

   When Jason returned with her glass of wine, she was no better prepared to talk. She didn't want to base their relationship on deception, but what in the world could she do? Was anyone ever completely honest with their partner? Maybe this could be considered one of those little white lies? Everyone tells them to protect the ones they love.

   "So, tell me. What's going on?"

   She inhaled deeply. "I—I guess it's possible that I just met my biological father."

   Okay, so this was a little different—more like leaving out certain facts. That wouldn't even be lying, technically. It was like not telling him about going to a club with Roz once, right? No, that was to prevent hurt feelings.

   "What else? I know there's more."

   She dropped her head in her hands.

   He settled in beside her and stroked her back. "Maybe I should help? There's something I need to ask you too."

   Whew. Maybe the subject wouldn't come up at all if he had his own issue to discuss.

   "Are you freaked out because I gave you a key to my place? Because if it's too soon—"

   "No. That was sweet. I won't use it unless you're here, of course. But it was a very kind gesture. Thank you."

   "It wasn't meant as an empty gesture, Merry. It's more like a symbol. I know you've felt a little insecure with the attention I get as a professional athlete, and in the future I'll be preoccupied with the game, but I want you to know you're special. I'm always here for you. And I trust you to come to me if you ever have any doubts. And I'm here for you if you want to talk about problems of your own. Okay?"

   She nodded dumbly. Problems of my own? If I didn't have to lie to you, I wouldn't have a big problem right now.

   "Okay, so it isn't the key. Tell me what's wrong."

   She took a big gulp of wine. "What makes you think something's wrong?"

   He raised one eyebrow. "Because you look like you've just seen a…" He shook his head. "Bad example. Look, I can just tell. So, spill it."

   He wants me to trust him. I want to trust him. Can I? Should I?

   He heaved a deep sigh. "Okay, let's play twenty questions. Does it have something to do with Sly?"

   Uh-oh. Letting him grill her could be worse than coming forth with a limited amount of information. What if he asked the wrong question? Tell him something, anything!

   "Okay, yes. I found my birth father. It's a little freaky."

   "Yeah… are you sure it's him, Merry? I mean—he's so young. He doesn't look like he's much over thirty."

   "Yeah, I guess he was very young when I was born."

   "Like five? That would be freaky."

   She laughed. "No, he wasn't five. Some people just don't show their age. That's not what I meant by freaky. All your life you've known one person to be your father, and then along comes this other person who knows things no one else could know and, well…" She shrugged. "I feel like I'm being disloyal to my dad, somehow." She could tell he wasn't buying it.

   He cocked his head. "It takes a lot to knock you off balance—PMS aside—but I imagine meeting your birth father could do it. But it's more than that. I know you."

   "Oh! How sweet—and how brave." She brightened. "That reminds me… I wanted to tell you about your surprise."

   "Are you changing the subject?"

   "No. You said PMS. I started on the new extended use pill. It's a birth control pill that's taken every day for three months, so your body is fooled into thinking it's not that time. Now you don't have to put up with my PMS every month—and I found out there's an herb that can help lessen the symptoms. Now my hormones won't turn me into a rabid dog every twenty-eight days. Isn't that great?"

   He smiled. "It is unless you save up all that misery and turn into the bride of Frankenstein if you forget a dose. Will I have to sleep with one eye open?"

   She tapped him playfully. "No, smart-ass. It won't be any worse than any other PMS I've had. I can give you back your key at the first sign of trouble if you're worried."

   He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. "No, I'm not worried. I was just goofing around. It's a nice surprise, but don't feel like you have to do that for me."

   "Believe me, I'll be doing it as much for me as for you. There's no joy in feeling like a body snatcher has taken over and you've turned into some kind of mad

alien."

He laughed. "Is that what it's like?"

"Pretty much."

   He shook his head. "Well, I've always thought you girls had it easy in some ways, but I may rethink that now. So, I guess it's good that you don't have it now, considering…"

   Crap, he's going back to Sly. Quick, think of something else!

   "Um, I have another surprise. Guess what? I adopted a pet!"

   "Really? That's great. What kind?"

   "A cute little white bunny rabbit."

   "Rabbit?" He reeled backward as if she'd said she now owned an anaconda or Bengal tiger.

   What the heck? "I thought you loved animals."

   "Oh, I do! I do."

   "But…?"

   He shrugged. "But… nothing. It was just kind of a surprise. I thought maybe you'd say a dog or cat."

   Hmmm. I'd better let that go. "And there's something else, but it isn't quite so pleasant. I hope you won't be upset."

   He leaned back. "Ah, now we're getting to it. Go ahead. You can tell me anything. I won't get mad."

   "Really?"

   "I promise."

   "Whew. Okay, well, you know that paparazzi reporter?"

   His face fell. "Uh-oh…"

   "Hey, I haven't even told you anything yet!"

   "I know, I know. I'm not mad. Go ahead. Whatever it is, I want you to tell me."

   She bit her lip and hesitated. Jason stroked her back again and she relaxed somewhat. "I tracked her down— just to talk to her—and my friend Roz came along."

   He groaned. "I thought you might. How did that go?"

   "Not very well. I told her what I thought of her fabrications. She claimed to just report her observations. I told her to leave us alone."

   "And what did she say to that?"

   "Basically? Something like, 'Make me.'"

   To his credit, Jason didn't react badly. He nodded but didn't seem upset. Maybe she could trust him with other things that might push his buttons—if she had to.

   "So, do you think that's the end of it?"

   She shrugged. "Maybe? I hope so."

   He fidgeted. "You don't sound one hundred percent sure."

   "Well, no one has called me with any more incriminating rumors about you." Ha, so there. Put the shoe on the other foot and let him squirm for a while.

   "You know what? I feel kind of sorry for her," he said.

   "Why? Have you met her, too?"

   He chuckled. "No. Confrontation isn't my style, remember?"

   "Yeah." She smiled. "I like that about you." Good, maybe he'll leave Sly alone.

   "And I like that you can stand up for yourself." He took her glass of wine and set it on the table. Then he closed the gap between them and kissed her.

   Whew! Crisis averted… for now. As they kissed, she took great pleasure in the fact that he made sure she was as satisfied as she could possibly be, each time they made love.

   Perhaps for the first time in her life, she felt as if raw sex and lovemaking were both present in every coupling. Not that she'd had much experience before this.