More Than Meets the Eye Page 9

  “I never knew this was out here,” Tasha murmured. “It looks like park land, lots and lots of park land.”

  “All of this land,” Jake motioned to both sides of the two lane highway, “is privately owned.”

  “By who?” she asked in amazement. The grounds were spacious and beautiful.

  “By a number of people. Most of the members of the council have estates out here.”

  “Ah,” Tasha said. “So, all the residents know that their neighbors are mystical creatures of one sort or another, then.”

  “You got it.”

  “And Henry is out this way?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he can figure out what I am?”

  “Hopefully. He’s been doing some research, but nothing like you has ever existed. Let me rephrase that; has never been documented.”

  “What a way to make a gal feel special,” she grinned ruefully.

  “Uh, Tash, there’s something else. We’ve had a plan formed for as long as I’ve known you. A number of plans actually.”

  “Okay,” Tasha said hesitantly. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that your, uh, condition, has been the topic of discussion for some time not only between Henry and I but within the Fae Council as well.”

  “And?”

  “And, well, there will be some experts on hand when we arrive, or shortly upon our arrival.”

  “Like who?”

  “Well, I believe Maven will be there. And Dr. Dietrich,”

  “Who is Dr. Dietrich?”

  “Besides the fact that he is on the Fae Council and has more than just a passing interest in your condition, he has an in depth knowledge of all things, eh, unusual and unexplainable, both past and present. He’s like a walking encyclopedia, and has helped to write the official histories of many mystical societies. He may be able to be of some help.”

  “Okay,” she took a deep breath. “Anyone else?”

  “Well, eventually, I expect the entire council to make an appearance at one point or another. All of the members of the council are curious about you because of your, uh, uniqueness.

  “Is that a good thing?”

  Jake shrugged, “Well, only one of them is ready to vivisect you, to see what makes you tick.”

  “Ah!” Tasha cried out in alarm.

  “Easy,” Jake tried to sooth, “but she’s been out voted.”

  “Thank goodness!” Tasha said with only partial relief, as she realized that Jake had not been joking.

  “And everyone has their own theory about your origins. They have only agreed on one thing; you are definitely a mystical creature of some kind. Probably.”

  “Was that a unanimous decision?” Tasha asked sarcastically.

  Jake tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Try to relax. You’re making me jumpy,” he joked.

  “I’m sorry, this is just a lot to take in,” Tasha said quietly.

  “I know,” Jake reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When he tried to pull away, Tasha’s grasped tightened. His strong, warm hand enclosing her cold, clammy and slightly trembling one made her feel better, if only a little bit. She sat back, closed her eyes and simply tried to breath.

  ####

  Jake turned into a private, paved drive and stopped before a towering, open iron gate. A man stood in the middle of the drive, barring their way. The man took one look at Jake and waved him on through. Though Tasha couldn’t see anyone else about, she had the distinct impression that they had been noticed by more than just the man at the gate.

  “Where are the other guards?” she tried to ask casually.

  Jake looked out his window. “Oh, they’re not far.”

  “Are they out there to keep me in?”

  “No, there is always a watch party keeping an eye on things. Many shape shifting types come out here to, well, to roam. And they are watched over to make sure no one molests them. Or that they get into any trouble.”

  “Roam? Really? Like change and run about and all that?”

  “Yes. We have to every once in a while or we’ll get, uh, testy.”

  “Do you hunt?”

  Jake eyed her and nodded. ‘There are deer out here and we need the hunt to,”

  “To keep you from becoming testy?” she finished.

  “Yes, exactly.”

  Jake followed the drive through a long avenue of trees, finally pulling into a circular driveway paved with smooth, white stone. The stone extended up the planter beds that lined the drive. The drive curved around a huge, circular pool, with water splashing and gurgling down and around the tall stone figure standing in the center of the pool.

  “Wow,” Tasha said, eyes wide with wonder.

  “Pretty impressive, isn’t it?”

  “I’ll say.”

  Jake brought the truck to a halt before a petit man with bright red hair and pale skin, who stood before a wide stone stairway. The little man opened the door of the vehicle for her, taking her hand to assist her as if she alighted from a carriage.

  She smiled shyly and gave him a quiet thank you.

  “The name is Clancy, at your service,” the wee man said with a deep bow and an even deeper Irish brogue.

  “Thank you again, Clancy,” Tasha said with another smile.

  Clancy gave her a wink and nodded at Jake. “The master is awaitin ya inside, lad.”

  Jake took Tasha by the elbow and led her up the short flight of stairs and onto a wide veranda that ran the entire length of the estate home. The wide door opened before them, and Henry, the lord of the manor greeted them.

  “Come in, come in,” he said with some concern as he looked Tasha over. He smiled warmly before taking Tasha’s hand and tucking it in the bend of his elbow. He lead them into a library where the Lady Maven was already seated, a delicate looking saucer resting in one slender hand, the other hand elegantly holding the cup by its handle.

  Jake bowed low, and Tasha, unsure of what to do, awkwardly mimicked him.

  Maven gracefully stood, placed her cup on a side table and took Tasha by the hand and smiled at her. “I hear you’re having a bit of trouble.”

  “Evidently,” Tasha tried to laugh it off, but it didn’t work. The worry for her condition as well as the physical discomfort she was experiencing was etched upon her face.

  “Come on in, have some tea, and let’s talk a bit.”

  She led Tasha to a sofa and sat next to her, Henry taking a seat across from her. Jake chose to pace in the open space behind his Alpha’s chair and in front a long row of leather bound books.

  “As I understand it, you do not know what you are,” Maven began with a good-natured smile.

  “No, ma’am,” Tasha wanted to cast her eyes down, but Maven took her face gently in her hands.

  “There is no need for shame. Here is some tea,” she took the cup and saucer that Clancy had just poured, and handed it to Tasha. “Now, Natasha, tell me what you do know.”

  “I don’t know much, it seems,” she smiled gratefully as she accepted the tea. The cup rattled slightly in its saucer. Tasha quickly sat the saucer on her lap to stabilize the cup.

  “Let’s start with your mother. Where is she?”

  “I can’t locate her,” Tasha croaked, her jaw visibly tightened. “She called for me a couple of days ago, but I haven’t been able to reach her since.”

  “This bothers you.”

  Tasha nodded, biting her lip. She took a sip of tea in an effort to remain calm.

  “And your father?”

  “He died before I was born. He and my mother were from Russia. My mother was able to come to America as a political refugee. My father was captured before he could make it out and he died in prison. Or, more accurately, was shot while trying to escape.”

  Henry sat back in the tall, winged back chair crossing one long leg over the knee of the other. “I’m sorry Natasha.”

  She smiled up at him and sh
rugged, unable to say anything. She sipped absently at her tea again.

  “Alright, then lets try this,” Maven suggested, “Tell me where you were born, where you’ve lived, where you went to school.”

  “I was born in New York,” Tasha let out a long breath, trying to settle her nerves. “We moved around a lot. My mother was always saying that bad men where after us and so we would often pick up and move in the middle of the night. The longest we ever stayed in one place was when we were in New Orleans. We lived there for six years. I finished high school there. From there I went on to university.”

  “Did your mother go with you?”

  “No, she continued to move about. She said it was better that way, that they would have a harder time tracking us both if we went different directions. I never understood who they were and she was so reluctant to talk about it that I eventually quit asking.”

  “I see. But she keeps in touch, normally?”

  “Yes ma’am, all the time. She’s practically obsessive about it.”

  “I understand why your inability to reach her must upset you. Tell me how you happened to come to River City?”

  Tasha took a sip of her tea and sat it back in the saucer before answering. Jake quit pacing and was watching her intently.

  “I was working a job upstate. I’d been there for two years, when my mother calls me in the middle of the night and tells me I need to leave, that she feels that I’m in danger.”

  “Were you?” Jake asked quietly.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. We lived our whole life like that, so I never questioned it.”

  “Just as you never questioned whether there was really such a thing as werewolves?” Henry asked with a good-natured grin.

  Tasha managed a smile back. “Yes, just like that.

  “Anyway, I packed up everything I owned, which wasn’t much, and left. I got on the highway and headed south.”

  “Why south?” Maven asked.

  “No reason in particular, I just got on the road and went. Anyway, I drove and drove and drove until I reached River City. I parked my car at the Tribal Casino, well, because the car broke down there and I couldn’t continue on. You know the rest.”

  “I wonder what your mother was running from?” Henry mused.

  “Mother said she was a political activist and that she had made many enemies. I just figured it was them.”

  “And now, you are being tracked by this Richard Roberts character. Henry, do you think there is a connection? I think it’s obvious by now that there is something very special about Natasha and her mother.”

  Henry shook his head. “I don’t know, but it’s possible.” Henry uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Natasha, can you remember anything from your childhood that seemed, oh, I don’t know, out of the ordinary in any way?”

  Natasha barked a little laugh. “My whole life has been a little out of the ordinary. Moving all over the place is only a part. Where some parents might teach life skills, my mother schooled me with faery tales as if they were gospel. Which is why seeing a werewolf advertising for an assistant didn’t phase me. But let me see,” She closed her eyes and thought. It didn’t take very long. When she opened her eyes, she looked at the Alpha-her alpha now it would appear- and spoke hesitantly. “I saw a monster when I was little.”

  Henry’s eyes lit up. “Ah, well there’s something not everyone can say. Tell us about it.”

  “When I was a child, about five I think, my mother and I were in our small house and the door burst open. My mother grabbed me before I could see who had opened the door and stuffed me under our bed. She told me to be like a cat.”

  “Why a cat?” interrupted the Alpha, his clear blue eyes focused intently on Tasha’s face.

  “It was a game we played. When mother wished me to be quiet, we would sit very still and she would say something like, ‘Pretend you’re a cat. Pretend you are lying on a rug in the sun. Pretend you see a passerby. You swish your tail, but you don’t make a sound,’ things like that. It was usually when she wanted me to take a nap, or when circumstances required me to be especially quiet.”

  The handsome man nodded, pursing his lips in thought. “Very well, continue with the monster.”

  “That’s all, sir. She said to be to be like a cat, so that’s what I did. I was quiet and still. The monster looked under the bed and sniffed at me, but went away. It was a long time before my mother came and got me. When she did, she told me there had been no monster at all, that I had just been dreaming.”

  Tasha remembered the experience like it was yesterday. Mostly because her mother had insisted that there had been no monster. But she knew what she’d seen and heard, and she knew she had not been dreaming.

  Henry reached out and took her hand. “Don’t be upset with me, dear, but are you sure you were not dreaming?”

  Tasha nodded emphatically. “I am sure, sir, I know what I saw.”

  “What did it look like?” Jake asked, as he leaned his elbows on the tall back of Lord Winston’s chair.

  “It reminded me of a boar. It had little, black, beady eyes and a snout and tusks that went up past his snout. His hair was bristly and he was gray. And he smelled bad.”

  The council members glanced at one another.

  “Bet is was a tracker,” Jake murmured. “They do work as bounty hunters. They literally sniff out their quarry because their eye sight is so bad. Did you ever see it again? What about any others?”

  “I can’t be sure, but I thought I saw another one outside of the school yard when I was in grade school.”

  “And what did your mother say about that?” asked Maven.

  “I didn’t tell her. I wasn’t sure and I didn’t wish for what I saw to be dismissed as fantasy again.”

  “I wonder why she would teach you about faeries but then dismiss the fact that you saw a monster?” Maven wondered aloud.

  Tasha shook her head. “I don’t know, other than maybe she didn’t want me to be afraid of monsters coming to snatch me away from my mom.”

  “Did it work?” Jake asked.

  “Not really. I know what I saw, no matter what Momma said. But, I also knew that she would protect me. She still does, as best as she can anyway.”

  Henry’s head snapped towards the door. “We have company,” he said as he rose to welcome the newcomer. Tasha hadn’t heard a thing to indicate the arrival of a visitor.

  “Well, at least we know that it is not out of the ordinary to have someone follow you,” Maven commented as she took a sip of her now tepid tea.

  Jake sunk into the chair that Lord Winston had just vacated. “Tasha that may explain why Richards is following you and not me. He thinks you are the werewolf. He could be looking for a bounty.”

  “Are there normally bounties out for werewolves?” Tasha asked. Her voice sounded tight and strained.

  “There is always someone who gets a wild hair and thinks a werewolf killed his cattle, or stole his wife or violated his daughter,” Jake said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  Tasha gulped, and the teacup clattered on its saucer again as her hand renewed its tremors.

  Maven took the cup and saucer from her trembling hands and handed the set over to Jake. As soon as the items left her hands, she immediately grabbed Tasha’s and held them gently yet firmly in her own grasp. “Tasha, don’t worry about that now.”

  “I can’t help it,” Tasha whispered forlornly. “It’s just too much. I’m being followed, I’m not human, and something is happening to me that I don’t understand.”

  “Let’s talk about that last bit then,” cooed Maven reassuringly as she gently rubbed the backs of Tasha’s hands with her thumbs.

  Before she could respond, Tasha looked up as Henry escorted a bookish looking man with a long nose, bushy gray eyebrows over bright, expectant dark eyes. He was followed by an especially small man, smaller in stature than Clancy, and was very stocky. He was not fat, thoug
h almost as wide as he was tall, with large shoulders, and long auburn hair with a long flowing beard and a long mustache that blended so well with his beard that Tasha couldn’t see where it ended and the beard began.

  Henry indicated the former. “Natasha, this is Dr. Dietrich. He specializes in various anthropologies. I thought he might be helpful to us. And this fellow here,” Henry indicated the short man, “is Dr. Reinhardt. He is an actual physician that specializes in were-creatures.”

  Dr. Dietrich quietly took a seat next to Tasha, while Dr. Reinhardt took a standing position directly in front of Tasha, his hands clasped behind his back, his feet slightly apart. He squinted his dark eyes at Tasha, as he looked her up and down while rocking back on his heals.

  “Natasha was just about to tell me what she’s feeling,” Maven explained to the new comers.

  “Yes, please continue,” the short man said. His was voice soft, with a Germanic accent. He gently extracted one of Tasha’s hands from Maven’s grasp, checking her pulse as he examined the back of Tasha’s hand, then the front, ending with her fingers. “Are you having trouble breathing my dear?”

  “No trouble, really,”

  The doctor leaned in, gently prodded her neck and under her jaw line with his fingers. “But your breathing, it is shallower?”

  “Yes,”

  He took both of her arms in his hands and stretched them out in front of her. “Does this hurt?”

  “No, not any more than it has been. The stretch actually feels good.”

  “So you’ve been experiencing pain in your joints? In your bones?”

  “Yes,”

  “Open,” he said as he held her face in his overly proportioned hands.

  She opened her mouth. The doctor gently prodded her incisors and tisked.

  “Your eyes,” he commented. “They are almost white. I take it that is not your usual color?”

  “No sir.” As she spoke with the doctor, she felt her panic heighten.

  The doctor must have sensed her panic. “Ah, now, none of that,” he said not unkindly. “It is imperative that you remain calm.”

  “I’m trying,” she tried to smile. “Got any idea what’s happening?”

  “Oh, my, yes. You are showing all of the classic signs of changing.”