“It’s for the best,” he said, bossily.
I lifted my chin. “I agree. It’s like Isaac read my mind.” I tried to slam the door but Adam stuck his foot in the way.
“Allow me to do your hair, Miss Cavanaugh.” He winked, his face filled with mischief.
“You’re acting weird.”
He chuckled as he walked into the closet. “Have a seat, Miss Cavanaugh.”
I did as he asked, wondering absently where Fizban had gone. Adam picked up the brush and started on my hair.
“My weirdness is in direct correlation to your weirdness. So it’s your fault, you know.”
My cheeks burned red.
Adam bent down so that I could see his handsome face in the mirror next to mine. “I’m sorry, Miss Cavanaugh.” He nudged my cheek with his. I thought about how I would’ve reacted to such familiarity a few days ago. I would’ve had him arrested. At least fired. But he’d saved my life. He’d stayed up the entire night making sure I was okay. He . . .
“I already told you to call me Beatrice,” I said, pretending to study my hands. They trembled slightly.
“Yes, Beatrice.” He held my gaze.
A burst of pain seared my heart. It had become almost bearable. Sometimes I forgot it was there. But at that moment, the way he looked at me, it came back with fervor. It was so strong it nearly knocked the wind out of me. I couldn’t put my finger on what the feeling was though.
Adam leaned his cheek against mine. “What is it?”
Inside the fireworks I’d felt before suddenly turned into falling rose petals. “I—I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
He stood up and continued working the knots out of my hair.
I tilted the mirror so that I could see his face. “Adam?” My whole body started to shake and I realized I was scared. But I needed to tell him. He had to know what happened last night.
“What is it, Beatrice?” he asked, his eyes filled with warmth.
“If you need to freak out, it’s okay. Feel free to freak out.”
Adam chuckled. It was full of kindness. “If the urge arises, I’ll be sure to freak out.”
“But don’t leave,” I said, worrying my hands.
“Beatrice Cavanaugh, you have my word that I will not leave.” His eyes were serious. His mouth set.
I wanted to believe him. I hoped he was telling the truth. “Last night. I . . . had what I thought was a dream, but it wasn’t.” I told him what happened. About the black cat and the blond wolf and about seeing myself in the pool. When I finished I said, “I believe a Vaktare is a cat-type thing.” I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer. “And I’m a Vaktare so that makes me one of those . . . creatures.” At some point during the story he’d paused in brushing my hair. I couldn’t read the expression on his face. “Are you freaking out?”
He began brushing again, his touch tender. “It’s quite a story, Beatrice.”
“You saw the way I was tangled in the chair?”
He nodded.
“And I was naked,” I whispered.
He smiled at that.
“So you’re like a werewolf, except a cat?” Adam divided my hair into three thick strands and began braiding it.
“Pretty much,” I said, thinking it over. I’d seen at least one movie with a werewolf in it. In my changed form I was hairy and had large teeth. I liked to hunt. But not people. I shuddered at the thought. “I’ve been craving red meat. And I’ve had a need to sleep under the moon.” I shrugged. “You’ve seen the changes I’ve been going through. Fizban told me I shifted, whatever that means.”
“Wait,” he wrapped the end of my hair in a tie. “Fizban? When did you talk to her?”
“While I was in the shower.”
“She was here?” Adam turned me around and started to work on my face.
“Yes.”
“So now what?” He brushed some mascara on my lashes.
“Now I need to call the number in that box and see where it leads.”
Adam finished my makeup and I stood up. Together we walked over to the box. I opened it, since it would only respond to my touch, and took out the paper. Adam handed me my phone. I dialed the number.
”Hello.”
“Yes, hello. My name is Beatrice Cavanaugh. I need to speak with Adam Henry.” I glanced at Adam, curious about whether he thought it was weird that his name was so similar to the one in the box, to the man on the phone.
“Well, Ms. Cavanaugh today is your lucky day. I am Adam Henry.”
I swallowed, suddenly nervous. If he didn’t have the answers I needed, I’d be lost. “Have you heard of the Vaktare?” I figured I might as well get right to the point.
The other end was silent for several long seconds. My Adam mouthed, “What’s going on?”
Shrugging, I said, “Mr. Henry? Are you still there?”
“How soon can you be in Boston?”
I shook my head, confused. “I don’t know. Soon, I guess.” My father owned a private jet.
“Excellent. Do not allow your flight to land after midnight.” He paused a moment. “The sooner you get here the better.”
I didn’t know this man. He could be a total creep. “It’s okay, your father and mother know me. Their names are Fisher and Lenora, correct?”
“Yes, but anyone could know that.”
The other line was silent again. I nearly hung up.
“Recently you began experiencing emotion . . .” He trailed off when I gasped.
“How did you know that?”
“Please, Beatrice, come as soon as you can. We have a lot to discuss. Call me when you land.” He hung up.
“What did he say?” Adam seemed nervous.
“He told me to fly to Boston.”
“Fly?” His face seemed to turn several shades of green.
“Are you afraid of flying?”
He coughed. “No, not at all.”
I went to my bedroom door. “Liar,” I said with a smirk.
Adam ran a hand through his hair. “Just a tiny bit.”
“Isaac,” I shouted.
He came up the stairs. “Yes, Miss Cavanaugh?”
“I need you to have the plane readied.”
“Oh?” he asked when he reached the landing. “Where are we flying?”
“I am flying to Boston, Massachusetts. Please schedule me a car and driver, book me suite, and have my bags packed.”
“When will you be leaving?” It was obvious he didn’t like that I was leaving him here.
I glanced at the clock next to my bed. It was ten in the morning. “How soon can the plane be ready?”
Isaac turned to head back down the stairs. “I’ll make the calls and let you know.”
“Thank you, Isaac.”
His features softened. “Of course.”
“Oh, and Isaac?”
He paused.
“Yes, miss?”
“Please make sure that I land well before midnight.” I had a feeling Mr. Henry made that recommendation because of what I’d become or what I was. A Vaktare? A werecat. I’d shifted after midnight last night. Maybe he did know something about me. The prospect scared and excited me.
“Of course.”
Eleven
Out Of My League
“I’m going with you,” Adam said for probably the tenth time.
The truth was I wanted him to go. I didn’t want to do this alone, but it was so obvious he was terrified of flying and I didn’t want to do that to him.
“It’s fine, Adam. I’ll be okay without you. There’s no need for you to fly.” His face went white as a sheet when I said fly. I was in my closet trying to decide what to pack. I’d already changed out of my jeans and into a Valentino casual suit. The jacket had three-quarter sleeves with black polka dots and black piping. The skirt went to mid-thigh. I paired the outfit with simple black Jimmy Choo pumps. I had no idea what to take or how much, but finally settled on as little as possible. If I stayed longer, or needed more clothes, I’d buy them.