Your Money's Worth: Seattle Elementals, Book 1 Read online

  "Yeah." I'd already seen that much for myself—it's how I'd boiled Annabelle's shark on Christmas night. Shark shifters were rare; she'd built an Olympic size pool at her home outside Seattle, just so her shark could change there if she didn't want to wander into the bay on a full moon.

  She'd been instrumental in killing Parke's father, so I'd exacted revenge on Parke and his family's behalf.

  I wouldn't have second thoughts about doing it again; Annabelle had aligned herself with Ross, and had killed and betrayed for him. Everyone in the paranormal community was better off with them gone.

  "If you'll meet Rob and me at the house two hours before sundown, I'll have pizza delivered," Cliff said. "What kind do you like?"

  * * *

  I worked two more hours after lunch, handed my research to Rob and drove back to my apartment. I wanted homemade chili for dinner and time to study while it cooked.

  "That smells good," Talbert, my landlord, had come by to check on me. I'd opened the door, letting out the amazing smell of cooking chili.

  "It's my aunt's recipe for homemade chili," I said, moving aside in case he wanted to come in.

  "I don't need to come in. Just wanted to check in with you, to make sure everything is fine. You're so quiet, I hardly know there's anybody here," he grinned.

  "Usually a friend comes for dinner and studying, but tonight she had other plans, so I decided to cook chili," I said. "Thanks for dropping by."

  "No trouble. Remember, if anything breaks down or you need help, just let me know."

  "I will."

  I watched him go down the steps and walk toward the house before closing the door completely. For a moment, I wondered if Parke were paying him to check on me. After all, I'd never had such a solicitous landlord.

  That's when my cell phone range.

  "Speak of the devil," I muttered before answering Parke's call.

  "Cassie, Shelbie Foster's will was mailed to you in care of the law firm here," Parke said. "She left everything to you and Destiny."

  "Oh. I hadn't expected that." Shelbie never said she had a will. I paused to let it sink in.

  "The house and half the money goes to you, the other half of the money goes to Destiny. You're named as executor, so you'll have to call the law firm and make an appointment with them."

  "I'd like to see a copy of the will, first," I said, realizing I felt numb all over.

  "I had Jon scan it. You should have it in your e-mail already."

  "Oh. All right. Thank you."

  "You sound as though you don't feel good. What's wrong?"

  I wanted to say everything. I didn't. "Just a long day, and a lot of reading and studying to do," I said. "Thinking about the full moon on Saturday."

  "Ah. That makes sense. You've never gone out, have you?"

  "No, but I have a place to go," I said.

  "Is it safe?"

  "It should be."

  "Look, I'm sorry I was short with you the other day," Parke said. "Too many things going on with the Hillman case."

  "Yeah."

  "I wish you were here to help me with it."

  "But I'm not."

  "Right. If you need help with the will, or have questions, call me back."

  "All right."

  "Make an appointment with the attorney soon; the house probably should be checked. If it doesn't have a security alarm, have one put in. That's your property, Cassie, and you can decide later whether to keep or sell it."

  "Okay."

  * * *

  Parke

  What was wrong with her? Or with me, for that matter? We spoke as if we were near-strangers. Married for too short a period before splitting up again, I reminded myself. I spent the next ten minutes looking to see when her spring break was. I'd buy her a plane ticket, bring her home for a week and we'd get reacquainted.

  "Jon, make a reservation for my wife to fly from Birmingham to Seattle on March twelfth," I said through the intercom. "The earlier the flight, the better."

  "You got it," Jon replied.

  I was beginning to appreciate Jon's efficiency. He was almost as good as Cassie at reading my mind, too. He'd already arranged to have Pauline's last check mailed to her so she wouldn't be coming back in to pick it up.

  I was grateful for that. It was bad enough that I'd seen her twice since firing her—both times at the Starbucks where I got my coffee. I think she did it on purpose; Jon said that he'd heard from someone in the secretary pool that she'd already found a job with another law firm.

  I hoped her new boss didn't have a wife; Pauline was probably prepared to take him and hang him up in her spider's web. The thought made me shudder.

  * * *

  Cassie

  "Can you come in Saturday morning?"

  I spoke with Aunt Shelbie's attorney before class Friday morning. I'd hoped to talk with his secretary or assistant. Instead, he answered the phone.

  "Around nine?" I asked.

  "That sounds fine. Just a few things to go over, I'll have you sign the papers to get the probate started and hand the house keys and the bank information over to you. The car was missing from the garage and never found, although she was discovered by the side of the road west of Birmingham," he said.

  "Oh." I'd never been told the details, just that Shelbie had been murdered.

  "You didn't know that, did you? I have a copy of the police report, if you'd like to read it."

  "Yes, please. Where is she now—was there—a service?"

  "She'd made arrangements with a local funeral home; they took care of everything. She's buried in a small cemetery outside town. I have that information, too."

  I wanted to cry for Shelbie again. I hadn't been there to say good-bye. The whole thing was too tragic and I resolved to place flowers on her grave soon. "I'll be there at nine tomorrow," I promised. "I have to let you go and get to class."

  "I'll see you in the morning, then."

  * * *

  "What's this?" I accepted a final, large envelope from Reynolds Finn, Aunt Shelbie's attorney on Saturday morning, after signing the papers to start the probate process.

  "The guest book and related items—from Shelbie's funeral," Reynolds answered. He was in his sixties, with graying hair and a kind smile. He offered tissues after I'd sniffled a few times when he handed keys and banking information to me.

  "People came?" I blinked at him stupidly.

  "Several," he said. "I was there—I knew her for twenty years, at least."

  "Thank you," I sniffled again. "I wasn't able to come," I added, recognizing how lame that excuse sounded.

  "That happens sometimes," he said. "Nothing to worry about. If you need help with anything, my card and information are in the envelope with the checkbook and bank information."

  "Thank you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. Shelbie trusted you, and that means a lot to my sister and me."

  "You should consider going by the house while you're in Birmingham," he suggested when I stood to leave. "I imagine her refrigerator should be cleared out and things like that."

  "I know. It will be hard, but I intend to do it," I said.

  * * *

  Reynolds was right about clearing out the fridge. I'd stopped by the grocery that Shelbie always went to and bought garbage bags and cleaning supplies. The fridge wasn't in horrible shape, but I cried when I dumped the leftover stew; I'm sure she meant to have it for a meal before she died.

  The trash that hadn't been emptied caused the kitchen to smell, so I took it to the cart, put a new bag in the can and set about clearing up anything else that needed to be done.

  I kept an eye on the clock, too, so I'd leave in time to get to Cliff's place at the right time. I recalled what Rob said about Cliff getting the yips before turning on a full moon.

  Once the fridge and kitchen were clean and smelling better than they did when I arrived, I sorted through home security companies and made a list to call on Monday. I certainly didn't want anyone breaking in; that
would be frightening.

  After locking everything up and making a mental promise to come back soon, I left Shelbie's house behind and drove toward Cliff's place, outside Tuscaloosa.

  * * *

  Cliff Young

  "Pizza's on the way; Harve is picking it up," I said, ending the call and turning to Rob.

  "Good. You think Cassie will freak when she finds out you're the Packmaster, among other things, and that she'll be eating pizza with fourteen werewolves?"

  "She hasn't freaked yet, plus she's a fire demon. What can one of us do to that?"

  "She's still vulnerable while she's humanoid," Rob pointed out. "She did change really fast when she took Ray down, though."

  "Noticed that, did you?"

  "While I was being tossed across the room like a Ping-Pong ball," Rob snorted. "Her quick change means we're alive to talk about it now."

  "I hear a car," I said, turning away from Rob and heading for the front door. "It's Cassie," I said. "She's parking beside your truck."

  "Easier to get out," Rob agreed, going to the window to watch as Cassie locked her car door. "The rest of you will be out until dawn, since tomorrow's Sunday."

  "It's not often we can do that, you know," I pointed out. "Harve just turned in. We get first dibs on the pizza."

  * * *

  Cassie

  Cliff had a huge ranch house on three hundred acres of land. To the east stood a thick stand of trees that stretched for half a mile, and probably extended onto a neighbor's property.

  "It helps if your neighbor is a werewolf, too," Cliff said as I gazed at the trees through his kitchen window. "We hunt both properties on a full moon. Are you sure you don't want more pizza?"

  "I'm good," I held up a hand. I didn't want to admit to him that I had butterflies about turning by myself on a full moon. A part of me wanted to hide in Cliff's guest bathroom and call Parke. Another part was upset with him.

  Yes, he'd be turning, too. I hoped he'd made arrangements for Destiny, since her first official turn had been Christmas night, just as mine had been.

  "You'll be expending energy, remember? You were starved after the last incident," Rob reminded me.

  "I know. I can always eat afterward."

  "Don't forget to put your clothes where you can find 'em," Harve, the werewolf who'd brought the pizza and was Cliff's second for the pack, informed me.

  "You're right. I'll find a good place," I agreed.

  While I was in the kitchen with Rob, Cliff and Harve, thirteen more werewolves laughed and joked in Cliff's media room while polishing off twenty boxes of pizza. The tales were true; werewolves could eat a lot.

  "The best place is straight behind the house about a quarter of a mile," Cliff said. "We'll be going out in half an hour; moonrise is coming."

  I blinked at him. Rob was right; Cliff was getting the yips. Half his words were growled, half yipped.

  "I think I'll head out now," I said, pulling a small flashlight from my purse and stuffing it in my pocket. Aunt Shelbie always said to take a flashlight. I was following her instructions, in case the dark overwhelmed me when I turned back.

  "Good idea," Rob inclined his head. "Ready?"

  "Yeah." I squared my shoulders and stalked toward the back door.

  * * *

  Parke

  I wasn't thinking about the time change when I called Cassie on her cell phone. After six rings, it went to voicemail.

  "Baby, I hope things go well for you tonight," I said. Yes, it hit me that she'd be turning by herself. I should have been there, and considered that I should have bought a plane ticket to fly out the night before.

  Too late, now. Mom and her friend Bea were taking Destiny into the mountains, not far from where I'd be, in case they needed help.

  My conscience nagged me that Cassie could need help, too. I sighed and shoved it aside. We'd leave in an hour to reach our turning spots. I had no idea how my rock demon would react to Cassie's absence.

  * * *

  Cassie

  The moon lifted above the trees while I sat on the bank of Cliff's ravine, wondering why the urge hadn't hit me as it was likely hitting the werewolves. To the east, where the trees were, I heard a howl.

  They'd gone through the change and were greeting the moon before the hunt. Rob—I'd forgotten to ask what his plans were. I'd never heard of sprites, pixies or anything like them changing for any reason, although some revered the solstices and held celebrations or rituals.

  "Maybe Rob sticks his toes in the dirt to figure out where the wolves are," I shrugged. I took a mental inventory of how I was feeling—still nothing. Had suppressing my fire demon for years out of fear caused this?

  I didn't have another fire demon to ask or mentor me in any way. There had to be others—perhaps in foreign countries. I didn't know about them; they didn't know about me.

  I should have brought a book to study, perhaps, or even something to read for pleasure. My cell phone was still tucked in my purse, which Cliff had stuck in a half-empty drawer in his kitchen. He'd left the back door unlocked, too, so I could get in and retrieve it when I was done.

  He and the others planned to stay out most of the night.

  Was there any reason to force the fire demon out, when I wasn't feeling it? Perhaps that was a question for Kate. I could call her tomorrow and ask if anyone else had experienced this.

  I worried that I wasn't normal in any sense.

  * * *

  Robin Newbourne

  The last time I'd had my toes buried in dirt and grass, Cassie had watched my feet in fascination. It made me smile as I stood in Cliff's greenhouse, doing exactly the same. This way, I'd know where the wolves were at all times, as long as they stayed within a three-mile radius and didn't take off down a paved road or sidewalk.

  Cliff was important in the werewolf community and not only in the Southern states. He watched everything closely, and had been a better source of information than the previous Prince of Alabama ever dreamed of being.

  It will start in the Southern United States, the King's seer—my eldest brother—declared two solstices ago.

  He'd predicted a rising of Shakkor Agdah. While one seer could be dismissed, air and fire had similar foretellings. Seldom did the Kings and Queen meet. They met shortly after those dire predictions.

  I'd kept watch with Cliff afterward. He and I suspected that Ross could be involved in something that would bring harm to all of us, but it turned out to be a bid for the Chancellorship.

  At least that's what we'd thought at the time.

  Cliff and the pack were now turning away from the edges of Harve's property, looking for deer or something else to hunt. They'd double back onto Cliff's farm, running through his portion of the forested areas.

  Cassie, though—I didn't feel her.

  Anywhere.

  That troubled me. I'd had my hand on her the last time, but hadn't tried to find her this way since then. Surely I'd feel her, if she were there. I cast my psychic touch through the soil and toward the ravine.

  Still nothing. The wolves were still running strong—southwestward, this time. Turning away from that strong vibration, I went looking for Cassie again. If she were barefoot, I should be able to detect her.

  The surge of wrongness went through me like a knife and almost made me fall while gasping for breath.

  Whatever had arrived was now directly in the path of running wolves.

  * * *

  Cliff Young

  They appeared from nothing. I might have missed them if it hadn't been for the humans they'd brought with them. Their scent and the sight of them had me veering away from that small crowd. I recognized the smell of one of the humans as I scrambled to turn away.

  Sheriff Haney.

  He'd found powerful friends. I didn't have time then to determine whether he knew what he'd allied himself with. A dark cloak tossed a glowing orb at the pack while I scrambled to steer them away from danger.

  I turned and ran toward the inva
ders when the orb's explosion rocked the ground beneath my paws.

  * * *

  Cassie

  Yes, I'd heard Parke speak to me, mind-to-mind. This message, however, wasn't as clear as Parke's had been. It also came from Rob, which terrified me—mostly because he was terrified.

  Something was very, very wrong. Cliff and his wolves were in danger. Rob knew exactly where they were, which meant I knew exactly where they were. Without wasting time to puzzle out the how or why of it, I was running toward the trouble instead of away from it.

  A part of me knew that Rob was doing something to get there, too, but my fire demon, which had burst into being almost from the moment I began to run, only cared about what was happening to Cliff and his pack.

  In seconds, my much taller, burning self could hear the sounds of wolves fighting for their lives. It only took a moment or two longer to see that several humans had arrived, but they held back, allowing what had come with them to kill wolves.

  Dark clothing was all I saw at first, as those dark-cloaked beings tossed exploding orbs at the wolves. Most of the wolves got out of the way, but one or two were flung high into the moonlit night following an explosion.

  Surely the authorities would hear that much racket?

  It didn't matter. One of those wolves didn't get up.

  The line of six humans screamed when my fire demon bowled through them, intent on reaching the dark-clothed minions who continued to toss exploding orbs. At least a dozen had come, several of which were now pulling long, black swords from beneath cloaks. When I hit the first one, the howl that came from his throat caught me off-guard.

  He sounded as if the hounds of hell inhabited his cloak instead of a humanoid of some kind.

  I headed for the next one, disregarding the keening that had stopped short with an explosion of fiery sparks.

  Behind me, gunshots rang out. I wanted to laugh—bullets would melt before they reached anything important on a flaming fire demon. Two of the dark cloaks thought to attack me together.

  They burned together.

  More shots rang out behind me, before screams sounded.

  Human screams of pain. I hoped the werewolves had gotten to those men; I suspected they'd brought the dark cloaks with them, to kill werewolves. More screams and shouts came as I chased after the last four dark cloaks; they ran from me. Perhaps if I'd been human, I'd have let them go in favor of checking werewolf injured.