Tasha

I spent the night tossing and turning in my bed, thinking about everything that happened that day.

It had been an ordinary day until we’d received the latest package from my stalker. I hadn’t seen the letter or the picture that had been in the box with the rat, but I had no doubt based on Wanda’s reaction they’d been bad.

Then there was that kiss. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It had felt monumental somehow, like it was more than just a first kiss with a woman that I was attracted to. Was it the mate thing? Did it affect humans the same way it did the supernaturals? It seemed ludicrous, but then again, there were many things in the world that I didn’t understand.

I’d been surprised to hear Wanda talk about it. Shocked even. Her description of mates had sounded like some kind of fairy tale. I wasn’t a fairy tale woman, and I certainly hadn’t pictured Wanda as my knight in shining armor. I’d learned long ago to take care of myself, to be practical, and not to trust anyone but myself. Well, and Chloe. She’d earned my trust.

The two of us had spent over an hour holed up in my music room while I told her about the kiss and the conversation I’d overheard after. At first my best friend had been irritated that Wanda had acted unprofessionally and taken advantage of me when I was scared, but when I told her that it was actually me who initiated the kiss, she settled down.

“I didn’t know that vampires had fated mates,” she said. “I thought that was a shifter thing.”

She seemed enthralled at the idea that fate would bring you the perfect person to spend your life with.

“I guess the fated mate thing is true for all supernatural beings,” I responded. “Or at least that’s what they believe. Although I have to say, I’m surprised that someone as level-headed as Wanda would buy into all that. She doesn’t seem like the fantasy type.”

I didn’t mention that niggle of doubt way in the back of my brain, the part of me that wondered if my strong feelings and overwhelming attraction to Wanda had something to do with this mate bond we allegedly had. It was as good an explanation as any for the way I was feeling. Then I tamped that thought back down, reminding me that love had never been kind to me in the past, and it likely wasn’t going to start now.

“Maybe it’s like those people who believe they’re reincarnated from famous people or that some random dude is God’s chosen prophet,” Chloe suggested. “People believe what they’re told, especially if it’s the story they heard as kids.”

As I stared up at the darkened ceiling that night, I couldn’t help but feel it was more than some fairy tale for the weak-minded. Wanda was a practical, no nonsense person. For her to believe in fated mates gave it more weight somehow.

But in the end, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t the kind of person who was going to have a long-term relationship. I just wasn’t cut out for commitment, and even if I was, who wanted to be in a relationship with someone who spent half the year traveling the globe performing in a new city every night?

***

“I want to pick out the music.”

Wanda glanced over at me from the drivers’ seat. I assumed we’d have my driver take us to the cabin, but Wanda insisted we should go alone in one of Sapphic Security’s tricked out bullet proof Suburbans. It seemed like overkill, but then again, this vehicle was a sweet ride.

“I need peace while I drive,” Wanda protested.

“Great, then let me introduce you to Beyonce. Her music makes everyone happy.”

She sighed deeply as I pressed some buttons on my phone and paired it with the car’s sound system. Soon the opening notes of one of the songs from Beyonce’s new countryish album filled the car. Wanda sighed again and bit my lip to keep from laughing.

“Is the regular security team meeting us up there?” I asked. Usually, Mark and his team came up to the cabin the same time as I did, staying nearby and patrolling my property in shifts.

“Oh God no, those guys suck,” Wanda said emphatically. “Angie once brought one of them to their knees just be twisting a finger.”

She muttered something under her breath that sounded like pathetic humans.

“Every guy on that team is the size of a tank,” I reminded her. “They’re all ex-military and they provide security for lots of famous people.”

“Well, they’re no match for the Bears.”

Something told me she wasn’t talking about the football team.

“Bears?”

“Yeah. We’ve got a team of Belarusian bears we contract with sometimes for additional security. Nothing gets past those three guys. They’re going to stay in trailers on the property.”

“There’s plenty of room in the house,” I said. “It’s pretty big.”

Wanda shook her head. “Oh no, these guys are very food motivated. Especially for sweets. We don’t want them to get distracted because we’re cooking or something. They’ll eat anything they can get their grubby paws on. Plus, they’re kind of loud.”

“You wouldn’t let me bring my chef,” I reminded her, my voice slightly petulant. “Who’s going to be doing that cooking?”

I hated cooking and without Monica cooking for me, I was going to be stuck eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for every meal.

“It won’t hurt you to get your hands dirty and do a little cooking, Princess.”

“I grew up poor, you know. My hands got dirty plenty.”

Wanda spared me a look before turning her attention back to the road. “I remember you saying that. You just need to go back to your roots.”

“I know how to cook things that come out of food boxes, not the gourmet food I eat now. Besides, the best thing about being a millionaire is that I can hire people to do anything I don’t like to do. Like cooking.”

I ignored the thrill that rushed through my body as Wanda patted my leg. “Don’t worry Princess, we won’t starve. I promise.”

Beyonce changed to Taylor Swift.

“Oh no!” Wanda slammed her hand against the volume button. “Even I know who Taylor Swift is. We’re not listening to this. Hey Siri!” she called.

Her phone chirped.

“Play Strauss.”

I heard the unmistakable sounds of the “Blue Danube Waltz” start to play and decided to let her have this one. As it happened, I liked this song as well.

“Next we’re going to listen to some John Hiatt,” I told her. “Have you heard ‘Perfectly Good Guitar’? It’s a masterpiece.”

Wanda sighed again but didn’t answer. After that, we switched back and forth between my favorite songs and hers, a good compromise.

We made the two hour trip up to my cabin in good time. Traffic was pretty light, and the farther we got away from Seattle, the more relaxed I felt. I hadn’t realized how much the stalker situation was bothering me. Sure, I’d pretended like it wasn’t anything to take seriously, but I’d spent enough time in this industry to know how quickly some crazy person could escalate from weird letters to trying to kidnap someone. Or worse.

Also, I was just having fun hanging out with Wanda. Not as much fun as I’d had kissing her of course, but chatting and arguing over music was fun too.

I directed Wanda to the private road that led to my place, then gave her the security code to open the wrought iron gate that surrounded my property on three sides. The fourth side was a pretty fast moving river that separated my land from the Olympic national forest. I knew from personal experience it was damn near impossible to get across that river without being swept away.

We drove up the long road to the house, then my house came into site as we rounded a bend. I owned several properties, but this one was by far my favorite.

“Nice cabin,” Wanda said, emphasizing the last word.

“What?” I asked.

“What, what?” she responded.

“Why did you say ‘nice cabin’ like that?” I demanded, dropping my voice in an imitation of her voice.

“Because when someone says ‘cabin’ a person visualizes a rustic little structure made out of wood. Not a freaking mansion on several acres of land.”

“This place is made out of wood,” I protested. “It’s modeled on the Steiner cabins they have in Oregon.”

“The Steiner cabins are small, with one or two rooms,” she said. “How many rooms does this place have?”

I looked up at the giant wooden house and tried to remember.

“Um, well, there are five bedrooms, and the living room, kitchen, sunroom, dining room, a few bathrooms and...oh, there’s a home theater room.”

Wanda shook her head. “Glad we’ll be roughing it while we’re here, Princess.”

“I wish you’d stop calling me that.” My protest was automatic. I secretly liked that Wanda had a pet name for me, but I didn’t want to let her know.

“And I wish I could go on one of those beach vacations where people bring you drinks with umbrellas in them without worrying about burning to a crisp, but we all have things in life we don’t get.”

“Wait, does the sun really turn you into dust?” I asked. “I assumed that was a myth.”

“It is, but I sunburn more easily than an Irish baby. You see how pale I am. Now stay in the car while I do a perimeter check. The bears won’t be here for a few hours.”

“A perimeter check?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m going to look for signs of forced entry to the property, footprints, things out of place, anything that might suggest someone is here – or has been here – who’s not supposed to be.”

She pointed to the ignition. “I’m leaving you the keys. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes or if you realize something bad is happening, I want you to drive away as fast as you can and don’t look back. Get to the closest town, stay in the car, and call Lois from your cell phone. It’s phone number one on the car’s speed dial.”

“I’m not going to leave you behind if something bad happens,” I protested.

Wanda shifted in her seat, then grabbed a hunk of my hair in her hand, tugging me closer. I met her in the middle and she gave me a rough, claiming kiss that left me with wet panties and a racing heart.

“Get in the driver’s seat Princess. You need to be ready if the shit goes down.”

As she started to exit the vehicle, I grabbed her hand and waited for her to look at me. “Don’t get hurt,” I ordered.

She gave me a small smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”