Chapter 11

Something cold touched my face and I awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright and breathing heavy. I braced for the pain but none came.

"Good morning, darling," Aunt Annie said, sitting in a chair beside my bed, the chilled hand she'd touched my face with still extended.

My bed. I looked around quickly, even jumping up and looking out the window. I was home.

"What day and time is it?" I asked, stretching and hearing pops, feeling better than the last time I'd been conscious.

"It's Monday and about 10:30 in the morning," she told me, her eyes roving over my naked body professionally. "You've still got faint bruises on your back, but everything else is fine. You were almost completely healed up when Talon called us over, but he insisted we check anyway. He's worse than a mother hen," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I got hurt because of him, or at least that's what he thinks." I sighed. "I don't begrudge him making sure I was all right." But I will begrudge him putting me to sleep like that. Bastard.

"Don't worry about work today," she told me, standing up. "We've got Billy running the shop; it's the least he can to for being stupid at a crucial moment."

"Please, tell me he at least had a hangover?"

She smiled. "Like you wouldn't believe."

After she left, I took a shower; I felt like I had a week's worth of sweat in my hair and I needed one badly. There was no one in my house when I got out, which was a welcome relief, and I set about getting dressed and making food in a leisurely fashion.

I called my dad and let him know I was well and had made it home safely. I did some housework but quickly grew bored and restless.

By 12:30pm, I was pulling into the mall parking lot, which wasn't crowded yet, and singing along to a random CD with the windows down, my long, black hair hanging loose and damp; it took forever to dry.

The cool air hit me as I passed through the first set of doors, raising little goose bumps where my hair had left damp places on my sleeveless shirt.

The mall wasn't very big, boasting only one floor and three wings aside from the central food court, which itself only had five food places. The place didn't even have a bookstore, which was fortunate for me; my money tends to evaporate quickly in such places.

Bypassing the shoe stores, the preppy clothing boutiques and gaming/electronics stores, I wandered into the craft's store. It was amazing what one could find in a craft store: yard decorations, water fountains, and repair tools. I loved just walking around in there, imagining what I could make if I had the time or patience; not quite as good as a bakery for pepping me up, but close.

Next was the candy shop, where I picked up some truffles, wacky jelly beans and a large amount of salt water taffy. I wandered around a bit more, eating my taffy as the mall began to fill with teenagers, mostly humans though there were a few young Weres.

Eventually I was drawn to the arcade, where I played some DDR and creamed A.I. opponents in racing games. I left when it started getting crowded with kids, sick of hearing I was too old to be playing in an arcade; like a person ever outgrows that.

I saw Andras as I was leaving and, though he acknowledged me with a nod, I ignored him. I didn't like him and had no problems letting him know.

I stopped by the shop to say hi to Aunt Gene and ended up staying to help a young Vampire pick out materials for the dress she was commissioning through us, as well as other things. By the time I got home, it was seven o'clock and I was famished, despite the depleted taffies. I was looking through my fridge, trying to decide what to eat when my phone rang.

"Would you like to join us for dinner?" Marcus asked by way of greeting, the sounds of cooking coming through the phone and making my mouth water.

"Is it just a meal or is there something else?" I asked suspiciously. Usually he wasn't so stiff over the phone.

"It would help immensely if you would, seeing as how he won't step away from his computer search to do anything, including eat," he replied, exasperated.

"Sure, Marcus, you know I can't turn down your food," I smiled. "I'll be over there in a minute." I took a moment to brush my wind-blown locks into something other than a tangled mess and glanced in the mirror on the back of my bathroom door.

My slightly less than tan skin set off my gray eyes as well as my midnight black hair, both of which are natural despite what others may think. I turned and lifted up the back of my sleeveless shirt, glancing at my completely healed back before tugging the fabric back down, resettling my JNCO's on my hips with a jingle of coins and my keys. I pulled my hair up, slid on a pair of flip-flops and left.

The house that Talon had built could be accessed via the long driveway, scaling the cliff or taking the switch-back stairs that were cleverly cut into the cliff a little ways into the tree line; I took the latter of the three.

Entering through the back door, I slipped off my shoes in the mudroom and proceeded into the house.

The house was huge. Constructed of a light-colored stone, it boasted more square feet than the shop and had two stories plus a basement plus a large attached garage. Inside were beautiful hardwood floors with equally nice rugs here and there, the bedrooms being the only places with carpet.

I passed the large dining room, which held a cherry table large enough to seat twelve comfortably, on the way to the kitchen, where the wonderfully delicious aromas were emanating from.

The kitchen floor was black and red veined marble that matched the counter tops and center island, setting off the pale wood cabinets. I loved this kitchen, which was almost as big as the ground floor of my house. It had two, six-burner stoves, one on each side of the room, three huge ovens, two microwaves, a refrigerator that could eat two of mine, plus a separate freezer, a walk-in pantry the size of my spare bedroom and the industrial dishwasher. I wasn't even going there on the counter or cabinet space.

Marcus was busy at one of the stoves when I walked in, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, sporting a white apron. "I'm just about done with this," he said without turning around, "if you wouldn't mind finishing the vegetables for the salad?"

"Sure," I told him, grabbing a clean apron from a drawer and washing my hands.

The kitchen was actually Marcus's, who had a passion for cooking, though Talon could cook pretty well, too. I'd asked him one time why he wasn't a famous chef with his own fancy restaurant somewhere, to which he replied that he wouldn't find pleasure in it if it was something he had to do. I understood that, even though I still teased him about it.

"I brought you something," I told him, pulling out a stool that was tucked under the island counter and getting busy on the vegetables.

"Really? You have my attention." Actually, the pan in front of him had his attention but I wasn't offended. "Is it more of those delightful candies?"

"It might be." I'd gotten him hooked on candy, but he especially loved jelly beans, which I brought him every now and again. He never asked where I got them, though it wouldn't have been difficult to find out, just taking pleasure in them whenever I offered them.

When Marcus kicked me out of the kitchen to finish everything, I went looking for Talon. It wasn't really a search, considering he was almost always in his workout room in the basement, his gaming room or his office on the second floor or wherever Marcus was. Considering Marcus had told me he wouldn't leave off researching, I was banking on his office.

I ascended the light colored marble staircase, keeping to the charcoal runner in the middle since the floor was cold.

"Knock, knock," I called as I opened the door to his office. The room was moderately sized with a desk, bookshelves and a computer, sparse and practical, just like the man who sat hunched over the keyboard, a notebook beside him covered in writing.

He looked up briefly, his eyes searing me as he looked me over. "Feeling better?" he asked, turning back to his computer.

"As good as ever," I said, coming farther into the room. "How are things going?" I asked, hiking a hip onto the side of his large, dark wood desk.

"I'm making progress," was all he said.

"Have you slept?" He didn't respond. "Have you eaten anything?" Again, nothing. "All right, come on. This can wait." I jumped off the desk, pulled his chair back and grabbed his forearm. "Marcus has been working his magic again and I, for one, am not going to let it, or you, go to waste." I tugged until he glared at me, and then pulled harder, dragging the chair with him.

"You shouldn't do that," he told me quietly, his voice rough, like he hadn't used it in a while. I felt a slight chill from where we touched. Once I realized what it was, I glared at him.

"How long has it been since you've taken?" I asked him, narrowing my eyes. "Did you even try to hunt for life essence while we were gone?" He just stared at me and I withdrew my hand, which had begun to tingle, crossing my arms in front of me. "You should know, more than I, how stupid that is." His lack of feeding helped to explain his behavior towards me while we'd been away, his territorial attitude anyway. "Why haven't you fed?"

"I've had more important things to do," he told me absently, starting to slide his chair back up to the desk.

"Oh, no you don't," I told him, moving between him and the desk. "No wonder Marcus called me. You're being stupid."

"Be careful, Little Cat," he warned, leaning back in his chair and giving me a good view of his bare upper body, "you put yourself in a bad situation to make accusations and hurl insults."