chapter 4
nothing wrong with us
"Are you just immortal or is there more?" he asked as he got up and gestured her to precede him.
Ella narrowed her eyes at him. "You clawed me pretty hard," she told him.
"I did. I have pretty sharp claws. And already your flesh has healed. I've got that part."
"Can you or James transform?"
"Transform? I get pretty vicious. He's got these claws that shoot out of his knuckles."
"Huh." She thought about that and decided she would have to see it in action to understand the shorthand. "But you stay human?"
He nodded. "If you can call it that."
She pursed her lips. "I have pointed ears."
Victor nearly missed a step. "What?"
"I have strange pads on my palms and pointed ears. When I press my palm against a window or into the sand or something-look." She flipped over her hand as he held the door for her. The thick pads at the base of her fingers were each individually delineated. Where most people have a hollow, she had another tough pad shaped like a rounded maple leaf. Her palm print would resemble an overgrown dog's.
"Huh. Not all that useful in a fight. Tell me about the transformation."
"It's only a sometimes thing."
"It's probably what drove your mother crazy."
"Nah. According to the woman who took care of her, that was the hissing and mewling I did as an infant."
"She knew what was to come."
"I'm not ashamed, Victor."
"No reason for you to be."
"I can change physically. Be something else. You know?"
"Anything else?"
She shook her head. "Just animals. And not usually anything tiny. No scorpions or snakes or bumble bees."
"You've tried to change into a bumble bee?"
She shrugged. "I've tried on a couple of forms of dragon, too. They work out better. I usually have the best luck with predators. Which is actually okay, because most of the time when I transform I need something pretty fierce."
"Why the hell didn't you change when I was in your room earlier?" he bellowed.
"I thought I could take you. Then you gave me the best concussion so far and it became a moot point. I can only change completely when I'm focused."
"Well then buckle down and focus next time!"
She smiled up at him as she unlocked the motel room door. "I don't think I'm the one who needs behavior modification."
"You're going to be too much like Jimmy for your own good-I can already tell."
"What happened between you?" she asked.
He shrugged. "He lost his stomach for killing. I haven't yet. I've branched out and our unit is primarily involved in the capture and detainment of persons of interest."
"Coool."
"I'm glad you approve."
"Why are they going to let you park me in with you?"
"Because they don't have a choice. I'm the best at what I do and if they want me to keep working for them instead of against them they'll play the game my way. I didn't know about you. And you've more than paid the price for that." He sat down on her bed and looked up at her. "I would have gotten you if I'd known. I don't think Jimmy suspected either. Nobody'd told us she was expecting a child. I wouldn't have left you up there by yourself. We'd have gotten you out. I promise you that."
She nodded. "Things worked out," she assured him. "It'll be okay now. There's no telling how the tides might have turned if you'd had a baby sister trailing after you."
"Damn straight things would've been different."
As she locked the door and prepared to turn in her key and pay her tab she frowned.
"What now?" Victor asked. He was beginning to remember why he travelled solo. She'd straightened the comforter on the bed that he'd wrinkled when he'd gone apeshit on her and then when he'd gotten tired of waiting for her and collapsed across it from sheer boredom. The rinky-dink hotel room didn't have a TV, didn't have a radio, didn't even have patterns of cracks he could study while she tormented him.
"Will they let me have my car?"
"Who?" he growled into her face.
"Your unit. Usually only registered vehicles are allowed on bases."
"Forget it. We'll take my car."
"Then I want to get a couple of things out of my trunk," she told him.
Victor was muttering disparaging comments about the amount of stuff she required and just dumping her ass in the river and forgetting he'd ever heard her name when she pulled keys out of her pocket and headed to an ancient Ford. It was probably the very first mustang that rolled out of Detroit. The blue and white paint was immaculate. The tires were nearly bald and going flat.
"It's a wonder you haven't killed yourself driving this thing," he fussed. "This is a stupid car for a girl to drive."
Ella shot him a quelling glance. Her bottom lip came out with the new frown. "This is a fantastic car. I love this car. I'm going to keep this car forever."
"No, you're not. For one thing it's a highly recognizable car. For another, it's a ridiculous car."
"What do you drive?"
"A brand spanking new jaguar. If you're very good I'll even let you touch the key or the steering wheel. Not both and definitely not at the same time."
"You have a strange sense of humor," she told him, disappearing behind the trunk lid.
He cocked his head when an enormous brown leather case came out to rest on the gravel at her feet. "What the hell is that?"
"It's a guitar case. If you're nice I'll not only let you touch it, but I'll teach you to play." She pulled the strap to a duffel over her shoulder, then stooped to pick up the guitar case and her bag.
He paused from bending to get her suitcase to wiggle the tips of his fingers at her. "Not with these...not likely."
Ella shrugged lightly. "You give up too easily. That's why there are guitar picks in every music store in the country. And they cost practically nothing, so you can buy several and decide which one feels right."
Victor shook his head. "I don't do music. I have an image to maintain."
"Music is second nature to us. Even before we stepped out of the cave we've drummed and hummed and listened. It's why our speech evolved. It's why we spent the dark hours carving spare pieces of bones to entertain children. It's why men and women will always come back together. Your voice is different than mine. Your body different. And because we're sensory-oriented we like the play-on-play of the different textures and sounds. It's all music, Victor."
Victor was shaking his head. "How much have you smoked in the last decade?"
She smiled up at him again. "Next to nothing. And I haven't disemboweled anyone who didn't deserve it. So shove it. And you will learn to-" Ella stopped dead as Victor opened the trunk of a shiny black sports car. "Sweet."
"Ready to give up that piece of crap you're driving?"
"Nah. This country's been good to me. I'll stick to American metal. But good Lord, Victor!" He watched her examine his car. He liked 'em black, he liked 'em fast, and he liked 'em new. He showed a penchant for foreign design but there were some domestic companies putting out quality products, too. And he did love to run through them as fast as they came off the assembly line.
"Get in, Little One. I'll show you what it can do."
"What were you thinking leaving this kind of a car in this kind of a neighborhood?"
"I'm thinking that the last time I had to get a car replaced because of vandalism I made a pretty decent impression on the locals. I never found out exactly which group was responsible for it, but I don't think that's as important as the fact that there's not a kid or punk within a ten-block radius who's going to be boosting anything off any car for fear it's going to turn out to be mine."
"What did you do?" she asked disapprovingly.
"I left every one of them alive. For Christ's sake, Ella, it was just a car. But I did emphasize the fact that my cars are precious to me. I don't to drugs. I don't drink excessively. I travel for work a lot. I don't indulge in strippers or whores. I don't golf or play tennis or shoot pool. My one recreational hobby is my car and I expect it to be respected."
"Yes, sir, Colonel, sir."
"It's Captain, actually."
She smiled at him. "Good. I like that. It's comfortable and confidence inspiring. Someone with rank and responsibility, but not so much shine that you lose your mind with it."
Victor smiled. "I think you may be the most unique person I've ever met."
She shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that."
He checked his mirrors before whipping out of the parking space into traffic, then took off like a shot. "Nothing wrong with that," he agreed.
