“She was upset with me for some reason,” she admitted, though she rarely did more than ask Jase what her sister’s problem was whenever Kandy seemed out of sorts. Which wasn’t often.
“I think she’s upset with the world lately,” he sighed heavily. “That damned Coyote, Loki, sniffing around her isn’t helping matters either. Hell, I’m convinced he’s making it worse.”
The anger that filled his voice as he mentioned Loki didn’t surprise Gypsy. Jason hated Coyotes. Hated them to the point that he was well known for it. His resentment toward Breeds in general wasn’t hidden either.
“Loki’s okay, Jase,” she warned him. “You can’t blame all Coyotes any more than you can blame all men for one serial killer, murderer, or—”
“Rapist?” he snapped.
Gypsy flinched.
“God, Gypsy, I’m sorry.” Regret thickened his voice as he pushed his fingers restlessly through his hair before staring back at her in self-disgust. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Jase.” Moving to the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of wine, she poured herself a glass before lifting it in his direction questioningly.
“Might as well,” he nodded. “Then I’ll head out of here.”
She set the wine on the counter in front of him before sipping at her own and pushing her emotions, her equilibrium back into place. No, Jase hadn’t meant to hurt her, she knew, but it had hurt all the same.
“So tell me,” she suggested, leaning against the counter once again. “Taking Loki out of the equation, exactly what is Kandy’s problem?”
Jase snorted again. “Can you ever take the Breed out of the problem if one is near? If you want my opinion, Loki is her problem. But she has no intentions of getting rid of him, so I guess we’re just stuck until he leaves and she gets her heart broken.” He shook his head wearily. “God, Gypsy, none of us have healed, have we? Even nine years later. Does Kandy really think this Breed is going to exorcise those ghosts for her?”
He finished his wine when Gypsy didn’t comment, only ducking her head to stare at the floor, the tip of her boot, anywhere but at him. She didn’t want to talk about Breeds. That wasn’t Kandy’s problem. She didn’t know what was wrong with her sister, but she knew Loki wasn’t the “wrong” in Kandy’s life.
“Thea still has nightmares,” he said when the silence became uncomfortable. “She still cries out for him in her sleep.”
Her brother’s fiancée had been attacked by a Coyote and nearly kidnapped as well the night Mark died. Thea had lost far more than her fiancée that night, though. Gypsy doubted the other woman would ever be completely over it.
“The attack she suffered that night nearly killed her, Jase,” she reminded him. “It’s the reason why she went into law rather than getting a business degree.”
He shook his head slowly. “She always loved law. She was taking business because she wanted to be Mark’s partner.”
Jason stared off into space as Gypsy watched him sadly. He had loved Thea even before Mark had proposed to her, but Gypsy knew Mark had always been the other woman’s first love. Likely, her only love.
“I’ll see if I can get a minute to talk to Kandy tomorrow,” he said, turning his gaze back to her and giving her a warm, tired grin. “I hear you’re just driving all the men crazy as usual. Especially some Lion Breed commander that you’re not giving the time of day to.” Approval lit his brown eyes.
Gypsy shrugged. “The Breeds are okay, Jase, I just don’t want their problems.” It was her standard excuse.
“Thank God,” he sighed. “Now, if I could just get Kandy to take the same stand, then I wouldn’t have to worry about the two of you near as often, Peanut.”
She forced herself to smile back at him even though she nearly flinched at the pet name. She hated it. It made her sick to her stomach every time she heard it. Yet she could never seem to tell him . . .
Don’t cry, be brave, Peanut . . .
No, she wouldn’t remember.
She busied herself putting away the wine, cleaning the glasses, chatting with Jason about Thea’s long hours and anything and everything that would put distance between her and her memories.
Long minutes later, Jase said his good-byes and left. Hearing his car pull from the drive, Gypsy moved to the window and lifted the curtain cautiously to check for Kandy’s truck.
It still wasn’t there.
Where the hell was her sister and what was she up to?
It was time, Gypsy decided, that she figured out the answer to that question. And she had a feeling she’d better do it quickly.
CHAPTER 4
Two nights later, Gypsy was still trying to figure out where her sister was going after work every night. This had been going on longer than the Breeds had been in town, so she couldn’t attribute it to Loki. Besides, she’d seen Loki at the last bar she’d been in, and he’d been confused as hell when she asked if Kandy was with him.
“Gypsy Rum!” An inebriated college boy, barely twenty-one, his alcohol-glazed eyes squinting, called out the greeting as Gypsy stepped into one of the busiest band bars on the Navajo Reservation border.
“Sober up, Slim,” she ordered the kid, knowing the consequences if his father caught wind of tonight’s overjovial state. “Daddy will be after your ass in a few hours if you’re not home.”
“Fuck him,” Slim drawled, slurring the insult. “He needs a beer.”
And no truer words had ever been said, she thought, throwing the boy a wave as she contained her laughter and moved for the bar while watching the crowd carefully for the sight of her sister among the throng.
Slap Happy’s was filled every weekend with drunks, wannabe punks, biker dudes and biker babes, wicked Breeds and rogue Breeds, soldiers, warriors, male and female and every sort of desperado in between.
Tonight, she was betting it had maxed out the limit of allowable bodies, if the time it took her to get from the door to the bar was any indication.
Cops and criminals were known to share space here, as well as rogue Coyotes and Bureau of Breed Affairs enforcers along with any arm candy or wannabe sweet that could be had.
It was also one of the best rumor mills and gossip socials outside the private weekend or illegal desert parties that often sprang up on the reservation itself.
Unfortunately, patrolling Breeds and rogue Coyotes looking for trouble had managed to make the desert parties all but impossible to have. The private weekend parties had been scarce as well, due to the isolation of many of the ranches and small estates where they were held.
There were actually several scheduled in the coming weeks since news that the Bureau of Breed Affairs and the Navajo Nation were negotiating the possibility of locating a central Breed office in Window Rock. One that would focus on the enforcement of Breed Law, for both Breeds and humans, in the western states.
Until then, Gypsy was forced to resign herself to the larger, rougher bars instead to find the sister still two years away from being able to legally enter.
Loose lips and secrets discussed in the so-called anonymity of a crowd was another reason she was there tonight, though. According to one of the enforcers at the bar where Gypsy regularly met friends on Friday nights, Kandy had been seen here the night before with several of her friends. And that did not sound like her sister.
The band was taking a break for the moment, the holographic substitute band pelting out music instead to please the crowd on the dance floor.
She let a smile play at her lips as she wedged herself between two recognizable hard bodies at the bar and leaned over the teak counter.
“Kenny C,” she called out to the bartender on the other end of the bar. “You’re as handsome as ever, you baldheaded lothario.”