Chapter Eight

INGO

I closed my eyes, inhaling Pippa’s scent. Maybe there was something to that vortex stuff. Even my arms were tingling. Tingling their way right down to Pippa’s waist, before I even realized it.

Pippa didn’t seem to realize either, because she hummed and went on swaying.

“Mmm. Nice…”

She’d said something about the vortex having an upflow, but I could have sworn it was more of a slow squeeze, bringing our bodies closer together.

My arms slid around her waist, but not on any conscious command from me. Pippa echoed the movement, putting her arms over mine in a back-to-front hug.

The breeze played with her hair, and it tickled my cheek. Or maybe that was the vortex?

Whichever it was, I didn’t care. I was too lost in the moment. Too lost in our kiss…

Yes, a kiss. One I pressed to her neck, ever so gently. Another side effect of that pesky vortex.

“Mmm,” Pippa mumbled, setting off a dozen flashbacks of long, lazy mornings in bed.

For once, the memories were more like blueprints than painful lessons of the past, and I reconstructed every one. The slide-kiss that started at her collarbone and ended in the notch of her neck. The long kiss that swept along the edge of her jaw, ending near her lips. Best of all, the kiss that met those lips exactly as Pippa turned in my arms.

Call it a vortex kiss.

And, oh. The vortex must have jumped to full flow, because Pippa cupped my face in her hands and hung on.

My research on vortexes described them as swirling centers of energy that fostered meditation, healing, and self-exploration. So…

Meditation — check , because I’d never been more focused on the present.

Healing — check plus, because the ragged edges of my heart stopped hurting.

Self-exploration , though, was a stretch. More like exploring Pippa.

And boy, did I explore. From the coast of her lips to the bays of her cheekbones and the home port of her mouth.

Pippa tugged me closer and kissed harder. Harder…

Then, Caw! Caw! That damn raven flew by again.

Pippa opened her eyes and pulled back slowly.

My lips puckered up as she did, stretching the kiss. Then I was blinking too, though my arms didn’t release their grip.

“That’s some vortex,” I murmured.

Pippa nodded, and her eyes glowed like a shifter’s.

“You know how it is,” she breathed. “They tend to come and go.”

My vote was for come , and I leaned forward, eager for more.

But a loud hum sounded over the landscape, and I couldn’t help but look up.

Pippa did the same, shielding the sun with her hand.

We watched as a helicopter chop-chop-chopped its way over from the airport, heading our way. About to slice through our shadows, in fact. A growl built in my throat.

But, no. Seconds later, its course became clear — it was heading slightly north of us, to a lumpy structure as high in elevation as our spot and a good mile away.

I cocked my head. “What’s that?”

Pippa shrugged. “La Puebla.”

As I studied the spaceship-style structure, a bad feeling set into my gut.

“La what?” I attempted a measured, not-at-all-loaded tone.

“La Puebla. Kind of a commune slash art studio built by hippies in the sixties.”

“Commune, huh?”

Even from this distance, I could make out a security checkpoint bristling with cameras and antennas. Here and there, the sun glinted off a tall steel fence — the kind that guaranteed the owner had something to hide.

“It was neglected for years, until someone tried converting it into an exclusive resort,” Pippa went on. “From what I know, that fell through, but someone recently bought it to use as some kind of a private club.”

“How do you get there?”

“You mean, if your helicopter is in the shop? You drive up Old River Road, then branch off.” She traced a line over the mountain. “Not that they let just anyone in. My friend Ryder was on the landscaping crew, and he said they got frisked every time they entered the grounds.”

At some point, I would have to drive over for a closer look. But not with the Jeep, and not in this body. No search warrant either.

My inner wolf grinned, showing its teeth.

I ran my tongue over them, though I kept the beast locked away — for now. I couldn’t rush in there without a plan. And certainly not with Pippa at my side.

Out of nowhere, all my old fantasies reared up. The ones where Pippa could turn into a wolf like me and trot along at my side just for the joy of it.

Sedona would be perfect for that. All those mesas, mountains, and open miles of land. Warm days, cooler nights. Perfect for a couple of wolves out for an innocent romp.

The helicopter grew closer and louder, drowning out my fantasy. I watched it swoop toward the compound, then descend and disappear behind the buildings.

“La Puebla, huh?” I murmured.

Pippa nodded, then froze. “Wait a minute. You’re not suspecting them of something?” She stared at me, then sighed. “Of course you do. You suspect everyone.”

Ouch. That hurt. Doubly so because it was true.

I clenched my fists, already formulating a plan for sneaking in for a closer look. Sure, I ought to go by the books and do more investigating first — the kind that might turn up something I could use to make this case official. Things like tracking down delivery firms, interviewing employees, and scouring agency records. But all that took time.

Too much time, my wolf side warned.

I thought of Stacy. Of Pippa. Of all the other nice young men and women who would never hurt anyone, so they never suspected someone might hurt them.

People like Bridget.

My heart beat harder. “Who bought it?”

Pippa shrugged. “Someone very rich and a little loony, I guess. Who else would spend seven million on a place like that?”

Rich. Loony. That certainly rang a bell.

“You don’t know who?” I held my breath.

“Nope. But if you’ve seen one rich guy, you’ve seen them all.”

“Which you know from knowing so many rich guys?”

She gave me a haughty look. “I’ve worked in catering, mister. I’ve seen them all.”

And clearly, she wasn’t impressed.

Which was good, in a way. I wasn’t dirt poor, but I definitely wasn’t rich. So, I had that going for me in the unlikely event that I would someday bring every single criminal to justice and find myself with nothing to do. Unlikely, but hell, a man could dream.

“Harlon was a rich guy,” I pointed out. “And dangerous as hell.”

“Well, we showed him.”

Yes, Pippa, her sisters, and Nash had definitely given that warlock what he’d deserved. But it could have gone either way, and she knew it.

“What else do you know about La Puebla?”

She studied my face all too closely. “Let me guess. You think a diabolical warlock has moved in and is currently plotting to eradicate all of humankind.”

No, I suspected a diabolical vampire had moved in and was currently plotting something bad. Possibly even to eradicate all of humankind.

“Just tell me what you know,” I said in as neutral a tone as I could.

Pippa made a face, but she did indulge me.

“Some superrich guy from Illinois. Wait. Indiana. Or maybe Ohio…”

It was all I could do not to nod at Indiana , where Victor Jananovich hailed from.

“Anyway, somewhere over there.” She motioned vaguely, like those states were right behind Schnebly Hill. “I’ve heard he comes and stays for a few weeks, then leaves it empty for a while, then comes back. A snowbird warlock, you could say, if that’s what he is.” She chuckled at her own joke.

Snowbird vampire, my wolf muttered.

“Anyway, he brings guests with him. Paying guests,” she continued. “So, it’s like a club, I guess. A super-exclusive one.”

“How exclusive?”

“By-invitation-only exclusive. They must have done a hell of a renovation…” Then she stopped. “Uh-oh. You have those cunning wolf eyes.”

Oops. A shifter’s eyes tended to heat with their emotions, each showing in a different fiery hue. Love. Fear. Passion. Hatred.

I blinked hard, trying to dim the fire in my eyes. “Well, I am a wolf.”

“And you are cunning.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

We both broke into grins at that echo of an old line of ours from way back when.

The helicopter lifted off again, and the whirr of the blades echoed off the hills. The sound moved with the helicopter, fading slowly as it returned to the airport.

“Well, there you have it,” Pippa murmured. “That’s how exclusive it is.”

“And what do those exclusive guests do there?”

“Well, it sure ain’t golf,” Pippa quipped, indicating the steep property. “Probably some kind of wellness place, where you can relax and rejuvenate.”

A shiver went down my spine. Rejuvenation for a vampire called for blood. A lot of it, and fresh as can be.

And, oops. Pippa must have caught my reaction.

“Wait. What are you thinking?”

After weighing it up for a moment, I decided to show my cards. Some of them anyway.

“That woman who was found dead at Gunnery Point…”

“The accident,” she filled in.

I shook my head slowly. “The pawprints were erased by the time the police arrived, but the scent of bear shifter was all over the place.”

Her mouth formed a surprised Oh . Then she nodded for me to go on.

“Stacy’s chauffeur is a bear shifter,” I continued.

Pippa narrowed her eyes. “Same bear shifter or different bear shifter?”

“Not sure.”

She threw up her hands. “That’s as bad as racial profiling!”

I stuck up my hands. “I’m not assuming it’s the same guy, but it’s the only lead I have.”

“Not really a lead, though, is it? Just a baseless accusation.”

“I’m not accusing anyone. But it’s all I have to go on right now. Do you know anything about him?”

Her expression went grim. “No. Only that he drives — and the last time Stacy came by the shop, she wasn’t eager to leave.”

That didn’t sound good.

“Can’t you trace the car or the company? I did show you the address.”

“I’m trying, but it takes time. And there’s a thin line between waiting for enough evidence to protect a suspect’s rights and waiting so long that you risk an innocent person’s life.”

Pippa frowned, and I knew she was thinking of Stacy. Hell, I was thinking of her too, along with the vow I’d made to myself — and to a murder victim named Bridget.

Just then, the security gate rolled aside, and an SUV exited the grounds of La Puebla. The same color and model driven by the bear shifter, with the same ding in the front bumper. I could tell by the way the sun glinted off it.

“Baseless, huh?” I murmured.

Pippa stared at it. “Could be another one that looks the same.”

I jutted my jaw. Right down to the dinged bumper?

Pippa squinted. “Too far to see the license plate…”

We watched silently as it rolled down the road and disappeared around a bend.

Pippa shivered, rubbing her arms. “Now you’re making me paranoid too.”

I didn’t reply.

After a few quiet, pensive moments, Pippa shook her head wearily. “Either way, we need to get going.”

I looked around. The sun would set soon, and we had a long way to go back down the mountain.

Pippa headed back toward the Jeep, then pointed a finger at me. “And don’t forget, you owe me.”

My inner wolf wagged its tail. Anything.

“I do. You have something in mind?” I asked, following her through the scrubby bushes.

She didn’t turn around, but I could hear the mischief in her voice. “You know the old saying about a bull in a china shop?”

“Yes…” I replied, curious.

“Something like that, maybe.”

I had no idea what she meant, but I was intrigued. And to be honest, even a little hopeful, because any time with my true love — especially at a time like now, when darkness crowded out light in my soul — was time well spent.

Dangerously hopeful, one might say.