Drive Me Wild (The Others) Read online

  Automatically, she stalled for time.

  “They said … um … that is, they told me to tell you…” Desperately, her gaze flew back to Rafe for guidance, and she saw him once again nodding with deliberate meaning. “They, uh … they said, um … yes?”

  Rafe grinned at her and nodded one last time. Tess blew out a relieved breath and turned her attention back to her grandfather’s voice.

  “… like to see you as well. Is seven convenient for you?”

  Tess caught the tail end of what sounded like an invitation and frowned. “I’m sorry, Granddad. There must have been a little static. I’m afraid I missed what you just said. Would you repeat it, please?”

  Lionel sighed again. It was his customary response whenever Tess spoke to him. “I do wish you would listen more carefully, Tessa. I said that the council chairs would like to speak with you before the meeting in order to get your impressions of this De Santos fellow. I’ve invited them to dinner tonight, and I asked if you would join us. At seven, please. And be sure to dress appropriately.”

  Before she could accept or decline, Lionel hung up and left Tess scowling at her silent cell phone. Invite, her ass.

  “You didn’t tell me your grandfather holds a position on this Witches’ Council,” Rafe said, standing to guide her back into the kitchen. He filled a new mug with coffee and set it down before her. “I gathered that was the meaning of your phone call. The Witches’ Council wished to hear my response to the message you delivered last night.”

  Tess nodded, wrapping her hands around the warm mug, but not drinking. “He doesn’t actually sit on the council. Not anymore. He stepped down last year. But he is still active in the politics of it. Some of his close friends are still chair holders.”

  “Then they want to question you about me.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  There was a brief silence while Tess contemplated the coming evening. Dinner at her grandfather’s house always made her nervous, and dinner there with the inner circle of the Witches’ Council would likely leave her with an ulcer before she finished her soup course. None of the council members had the slightest bit of respect for her, though considering that her grandfather had even less, she supposed she should stop feeling hurt by it. She’d earned her reputation for magical incompetence long enough ago.

  “So what are you going to tell them about me?”

  Tess’s gaze flew to Rafe’s face, and her eyes went wide as saucers. “Well, I’m certainly not going to tell them that!”

  The Felix laughed, a deep, throaty rumble that echoed through the kitchen. “I didn’t expect that you would. That’s between the two of us.” He winked at her. “I meant, what do you plan to tell them about your first impressions of me?”

  “I can’t tell them those, either,” she mumbled. He heard her, though, because his grin widened and he chuckled into his coffee. Tess straightened. “I honestly don’t know what they’re expecting to hear from me. It’s not like I know you all that well—”

  “Other than biblically.”

  Tess ignored the twinkle in his eyes.

  “—so I can’t think what they’re going to ask about. All I can tell them is that you seem pretty human, you’re fairly intelligent, and you’re friends with a werewolf Alpha. Oh, and you make killer French toast.”

  “I am fairly certain that those are not precisely the pieces of information they will be looking for.”

  “Me, too. But like I said, I don’t know what they’ll be looking for. Except to know that I probably don’t know, you know?”

  “I know.”

  Tess sighed and looked at her watch, then compared her findings with the digital readouts on his space-age microwave and built-in double oven. All sources agreed. She was way late for work.

  “Look, thanks for … er … breakfast,” she said, setting down her cup and cinching the belt of her borrowed robe even tighter, “but I really have to run. It’s my assistant’s day to open the shop, but I still have a ton of work to do. I should get going.”

  Rafe set down his own coffee and nodded. Stepping forward, he placed his hand in the small of her back and ushered her toward the bedroom. The move was old-fashioned and possessive and suited him like a layer of skin.

  “Of course. Why don’t you take a quick shower while I gather your things together? You will feel much more ready to start the day after you have cleaned up and dressed in your own clothing. All right?”

  He didn’t wait for her answer, just pushed her through the bedroom and into the master bath, showing her where to find clean towels, instructing her on the details of his state-of-the-art steam shower, and offering her his toothbrush. Then he smiled at her and left, shutting the door firmly behind her and leaving her alone in the sea of richly earth-toned tile and gleaming porcelain.

  She blinked and reached for the shower faucet. Maybe he was right. Maybe a shower would clear her head. At this rate, it damned sure couldn’t hurt.

  * * *

  Rafe waited until he heard the water start to run before he picked up the phone and dialed from memory.

  “Yeah.”

  “Graham. I need you to find some information for me.”

  “Thank you for choosing the Silverback Clan for all your investigative needs. We sniff out all the news you need to know.”

  “Clever. You should get business cards printed up.”

  “I’m way ahead of you. The press had this really cool generic logo of a wolf baying at the moon, too. They’re gonna be great.”

  “You had better hope Callahan does not object to you cutting in on his business. But in the meantime, this is important, and it needs to happen quickly. And with discretion.”

  Graham’s voice snapped into serious mode. “Name it. I’m listening.”

  “I need you to find me what the community knows about a certain witch.”

  “I’m sure you do, bud, but you should know well enough that our kind knows not a whole hell of a lot about that crowd. They keep to themselves. They think we furries are nothing more than animals with opposable thumbs. If you want to impress the girl, you’re going to have to get creative.”

  “Do not be ridiculous. This is not about Tess. I have a phone number for the witch in question, but I know little else.” Impatient with the wolf’s ribbing, Rafe flipped open Tess’s cell phone and pressed a button to bring up her address book. Sure enough, memory slot number two read, GRANDDAD. He read the number back to Graham. “The name should be Menzies.”

  “Hm. No relation to your adorable little stalker, eh?”

  “Just dig up the information for me. I will fill you in on the rest later.”

  Graham must have heard the impatience in his tone, because the Lupine grew serious. “You got it. When does this rush job of yours need to be done?”

  “Before seven tonight.”

  Graham sighed. “Done. But you owe me, buddy.”

  “You know I will come through. Call me when you know something worth sharing.”

  He hung up just as the shower turned off. Standing, he tucked the cell phone back into Tess’s jacket pocket and added the garment to the neatly folded pile of clothes in his hands. Then he schooled his expression into blandly pleasant lines and headed toward the bedroom. Maybe if he were fast and lucky, he’d get one last look at Tess’s luscious little body before she left for work.

  A man could dream.

  Nine

  Tess made it into the shop just after twelve thirty, partly because she didn’t have to bother stopping home to shower, and mostly because Rafe had called a car service to drive her back to the East Village so she wouldn’t have to take the subway. For that courtesy alone, Tess was prepared to forgive a multitude of sins, especially since the October weather had turned rainy and chilly sometime after dawn.

  She thanked the driver of the town car, took him at his word that his tip was included in the service, and tried to ignore the way he stared very surreptitiously at her braless chest. She debated spending
her day with her arms crossed over them, but wasn’t sure that wouldn’t defeat the purpose of circumspection. Instead she tugged her jacket more firmly shut and turned away.

  Cheeks flaming, she headed down the five steps to her basement shop on West 9th Street. The sleigh bells over the door jingled as she entered, and the familiar, soothing smell of the shop greeted her as soon as she closed the door behind her. She inhaled the crisp, herbal fragrance and looked around for Bette.

  “Well, well. Looks like I can call the National Guard and tell them it was a false alarm.”

  Tess turned to the back of the shop at the sound of the familiar voice, and she smiled. Elbows-deep in a huge paper sack of loose peppermint stood a young woman in her early twenties. Bette Beedle (her real name, Tess had learned, somewhat to her shock) had more facial piercings than she had fingers and wore her hair in a short, blunt bob dyed a vibrant electric blue. She had a talent for herbalism, a mind for numbers, and didn’t mind working lousy hours. Plus, she possessed a warm heart and a great sense of humor, which was what qualified her to be Tess’s one and only employee. “Sorry I’m late. It was a long night.”

  Bette grinned. “Ooh, that sounds promising. Was the cause of the long night long as well?”

  Tess blushed. “What makes you think I’m late because of a man? Maybe I got caught up in a good mystery novel or something.”

  Bette sniffed the air, raised an eyebrow, and shook her head. “Nice try, but unless you’ve decided to switch from your usual lemon balm soap to—” She paused and sniffed again. “—mint, sandalwood, and myrrh, no dice. That’s a hell of a nice masculine blend, though. Maybe we should try a new line of it.”

  “I don’t think so.” Tess started to shrug off her jacket and hang it on the coatrack behind the door, but thought better of it the second she felt herself shimmy. “I think it would be a better idea if we just finished up those custom tea blends for the Sanderson wedding reception, don’t you?”

  “No, but you’re the boss.” Bette finished emptying the last of the peppermint into a huge amber glass jar and screwed on the lid before replacing it on the shelf behind the counter. “So I guess that means you get to keep your naughty little secrets. Want me to go get the Sanderson trays now so we can get started?”

  Tess appreciated that Bette took her refusal to talk gracefully, as she took most things, but it still made Tess feel a little guilty for being snappish. She shook her head. “No, that’s okay. There’s not all that much left to do for them. Why don’t you take a break and go and get lunch. I’ll watch the shop till you’re finished, and we can do the Sanderson order this afternoon, okay?”

  Bette shrugged. “Sure. I think I’m going to run down to that new café on Seventh. Want me to bring you back anything? They have killer veggie wraps.”

  “No, thanks. I had a big breakfast.”

  “I see. So you’re back to taunting me about the secrets of your debauchery last night. Well, no matter. I’m a big girl. I can take it.” She wriggled her eyebrows at Tess as she grabbed her coat and opened the front door. “But if I die of curiosity over my avocado-and-tomato sandwich, I hope you know who’s to blame.”

  Tess laughed and shooed her out the door. “Get lost, you little drama queen. I’ll see you in forty-five minutes.”

  Bette called out a cheerful good-bye and disappeared into the world above, leaving Tess in peace and quiet. Which, she soon learned, was not all it’s cracked up to be.

  She found that if she had something engaging to do, like bookkeeping, which required all her concentration and considerable cursing, she could go almost forty-two seconds in between thoughts of Rafael De Santos. If she tried to get by with just placing orders, filling orders, or organizing the shelves, she topped out at around fifteen. Which meant she had all her bookkeeping done twenty-five minutes after Bette left and was going crazy after another five.

  When the shop door jingled for the first time that afternoon, it caught her once again staring into space like an idiot, with a dust rag in one hand and the other itching to touch Rafael De Santos one more time. Swearing at herself, Tess turned toward the entrance, glad of the distraction and more than a little curious. The apothecary did a good, steady business, but it wasn’t the sort of store that drew crowds, and the five customers who piled into the shop at the same time definitely constituted a crowd.

  “Hi,” she said to the room at large, offering them all a smile. “Can I help you with … Missy?”

  One of the women, a petite, curvy thing with auburn hair and dark sunglasses, laughed as she furled a black umbrella. “You’re very sweet to offer, but if you want to help us with anyone, let it be Ava. We’ve been trying to find a way to deal with her for years, but no luck. Personally, I think Ava is beyond help.”

  Tess looked from the redhead to the slim, elegant woman in the tailored pantsuit and back toward the only face she recognized. “Missy? What are you doing here?”

  The petite blonde smiled and hurried over to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You got me so curious last night that I had to come out to see your shop. I hope you don’t mind. Especially since I told a few friends about it this morning, and they insisted on coming to see you and your shop for themselves.”

  Tess’s eyes widened, and she shifted uncomfortably. “Um, just so I understand, what exactly about last night did you tell your friends about?”

  Missy grinned and winked at her. “Why, that you own an herb-and-tea shop and give a mean tarot reading, of course. What else would I tell them?”

  Those big, innocent brown eyes gazed back at Tess, twinkling so brightly that she instantly stopped wondering how this woman went about managing a man like Graham Winters. She clearly had the power to wrap him around her little finger without breaking a sweat. He probably thought his wife was sweet and innocent and malleable, too.

  She snorted.

  “I hope you’re not too busy for us?” Missy asked.

  Tess looked pointedly around the small shop, empty except for her and Missy’s friends. “Well, I think I can squeeze out a few minutes for you in between pressing nothings.”

  “Good. Then let me introduce you to my friends.”

  Missy smiled and turned toward the four other women. “Ladies, I’d like you to meet Tess Menzies. Tess, this is Regina Vidâme, Ava Markham, Danice Carter-Callahan, and Corinne D’Alessandro.”

  Tess offered each woman a smile in turn and made mental notes to help her remember who was who. Regina was the redhead who had made the joke about Ava, and Ava seemed to be the elegant model type with the silky dark hair and exotically shaped eyes. She was the sort that usually intimidated Tess, but at the moment, her expression looked perfectly pleasant, if a little remote.

  It was odd, actually, because while Tess would have to say Ava was more beautiful than Regina, something about Regina’s pale skin, auburn hair, and Mona Lisa smile gave her a striking quality Tess couldn’t quite define. It niggled at the back of her mind while she turned to the other two women, quickly filing away that Danice had the gorgeous café-au-lait complexion and Corinne had the exotic Mediterranean coloring and features.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Tess finally said, nodding to them. “Did you all come in looking for something in particular?”

  Danice snorted. “You might say that.”

  Missy stepped in front of her friend and gestured to the shelves of huge amber jars that lined the walls of the shop. “I just wanted them to get an idea of the sort of things you have to offer. Maybe let them sample a few of your blends.”

  “Absolutely.” Tess never let curiosity keep her from making a sale, though she did look back at Missy and hoped she hadn’t misinterpreted the woman’s reassurances. “Let me put a kettle on, and we’ll have some fun.”

  She kept an electric kettle on a shelf behind the counter, next to the sink and watercooler. Being able to brew up her wares for customers to sample made sense to her and had earned her a reputation for being friendly and accommodating. I
n the retail business, those qualities counted for a lot.

  Getting the kettle ready only took a second, and when she turned back to her customers, she found them watching her intently. She blinked and stifled the urge to touch her hair. If they were staring at her wild, golden blond curls and thinking she needed to spend more time with a comb in the mornings, they’d just have to deal. Her hair didn’t do tame.

  Especially not after a night like this last one.

  “So what sorts of qualities were you looking for?” She began scanning her shelves and pulling down jars, placing them on the counter. “I need to know if I have the right stuff.”

  She thought she heard a choking sound coming from one of Missy’s friends, but when she looked up, they all wore suspiciously bland expressions.

  “Oh, we’re sure you do,” Missy said. “It’s just a matter of getting you to show us.”

  Now, that sounded significantly odd. Tess shook her head and pulled out a mesh tea basket. “Okay, let’s try it this way. Who are we aiming to please here?”

  This time she was watching closely enough that she saw Danice’s shoulders jerk and her hand come up to cover her mouth.

  “Sorry,” the woman said, looking not at Tess but at Missy. “Allergies.”

  “Well, that’s a good place to start.” Tess forged right through the odd energy in the room and reached for a jar of mullein. “Do you have high blood pressure?”

  Danice gave a puzzled laugh. “Only when my husband is giving me grief. Why?”

  “If you did, I’d be blending up a different formula. No ma huang with high blood pressure.” Tess dragged out her small electronic scale. She laid a creased square of parchment paper on it and zeroed it out. “Does that cough ever go anywhere? Ever bring anything up, or is it usually dry like that?”

  “Uh, dry?”