Entangled Interaction Page 2

  I shrugged. "Maybe. I just broke up with my boyfriend. My own stupidity. Since I can't figure out how to mend things, I might as well throw in the towel."

  She tsked at me. "Not so fast, honey. First of all, any man worth having is worth fighting for. Secondly, if he's not worth fighting for, then you should consider some rebound sex."

  "Rebound sex?" I blinked at her.

  Jasmine swallowed a drink. "Best kind. No strings attached. Just a hot hunk out to rock your world."

  I pondered her words for a moment. "If there are no strings attached, why would he be so concerned with 'rocking my world'?" I did the air quotations. "Why wouldn't he be into everything for himself and make me responsible for my own orgasms?"

  She shook her head. "Boy, you've been running with the wrong crowd or seeing the wrong men. The good ones can't help but make your pleasure a priority. It's attached to their ego, after all."

  This was news to me. "Really?"

  "Yep."

  "How do you know so much?" I plucked at my dress sleeve and casually glanced around the room, finding Bas dancing with a pretty redhead.

  "Simple. My parents own this club. I've been here almost as much as I've been anywhere else. Seen the happenings, tried them for myself."

  "And how did it work out for you?"

  She grinned mischievously. "Some great sex, but lacking in the commitment department."

  "Ain't that the truth," I concurred based on just about every woman's complaint about men and their wild oats.

  She caught the location of my gaze. "Now, that one has potential. Fills out those jeans nicely."

  I snorted.

  "Are you blind? He's one hot tamale." She gaped at me.

  I couldn't help but grin. "Maybe. But he also happens to be my brother. The one who dragged me out on the town, lest I wither away an old widow."

  Jasmine did a double take. "I don't get it. You're human and he's…"

  "Not. We adopted one another a while back."

  "Okay…"

  "Don't ask. It's way too complicated."

  She matched my smile. "Wasn't going to. I'm too tired for my simple brain to figure out complicated family trees, especially those lacking similar DNA."

  "Good. Because honestly, I don't understand much past one branch down, myself."

  Jasmine smiled and sipped from her bottle of water. We both checked out the rest of the room. A handful of couples boogied on the dance floor to the pounding beat. Other people occupied tables and the stools at the bar, watching the action with avid interest.

  "Since your parents own this club, I take it you live around here."

  "Most of the time. I've been in Australia the past six months. Just got home this week."

  "Wow. Australia?"

  "Yep. I'm an environmental engineer. Spent the time researching landfill leachate treatment."

  "What's that?" Interested, I sat forward in order to hear her better in the loud room.

  "Leachate is the organic and inorganic molecules that are dissolved or suspended in water, basically existing in the waste from the landfill. I was studying how to manage leachate through new or hypothetical treatment methods to prevent pollution to the soil and ground areas and water sources."

  I blinked. I sort of understood the gist. Chemistry was never my strong suit in school. "So you're basically trying to keep the landfills from contaminating the ground and water?"

  She beamed. "Exactly."

  Score one for me. "Sounds like a necessary and very valuable job."

  "I like it and the fact I'm trying to preserve the environment for generations to come."

  After all, shifters tended to live many centuries and would probably enjoy a clean and stable environment to live in for their extended life. Who wanted to end up living in a wasteland by their mid-life? Made perfect sense once I thought about it.

  "Thank you." I grinned at her.

  She tiled her head. "For what?"

  "For being a good person and working to save the planet."

  "Thanks." Jasmine took another sip of her drink and raked the room with her gaze. A slow song began. "Dare you to find a man and dance to this."

  "I'm not sure…"

  She arched an eyebrow. "Dare you."

  "Fine." I set my water bottle down and quickly raked the room. Finding one man, I hurried over, grabbed his hand, and dragged him to the dance floor.

  "What are you doing?" He wrapped his arms around me and started moving while staring down at me with skepticism written clearly on his face.

  "Jasmine dared me to dance with a man." I met Bas's gaze steadily.

  He snorted and turned me in a circle. "Of all the men here, of course you picked me."

  "Well, yeah. I don't know them."

  "The point of tonight was to get out and meet some men. See if any of them might be worth dating."

  "I thought the point of tonight was to get me out of the house. Period."

  The black panther shifter shook his head. "Stubborn as a mule."

  I rested my head on his chest. "No. Just not ready to jump back into the dating game, and rebound sex isn't my style."

  "Rebound sex?"

  "Yeah. Jasmine said rebound sex is hot and hardcore."

  "Who is this Jasmine?"

  "An environmental engineer whose parents own this club. I'm sure she's a shifter but not sure what kind."

  He glanced over at the table where I sat. I felt him tense for a moment before easing once more. Lifting my head, I peered into his face. "What is it?"

  Bas shook his head. "Nothing."

  "By the way, she thinks you fill out your pants nicely."

  A wicked grin crossed his face. "Does she now?"

  "Yep."

  The dance ended, and I headed back to the table, Bas right behind me. Regaining my seat, I quickly did the introductions. "Bas, this is Jasmine. Jasmine, this is Bas."

  She held out her hand and beamed when he kissed her knuckles. "Honored."

  "Oh, such a charmer." She turned her attention to me. "Dancing with your brother is borderline cheating."

  I shrugged. "You just dared me to dance with a man."

  "You'll have to forgive her. Shy's practicing her mule impersonation tonight."

  "Hey!"

  Jasmine giggled. Bas grinned. I kicked the Neanderthal in the shin under the table.

  "Behave." He wagged a finger at me.

  "Brothers are so trying." I opened my water and took a long drink.

  Jasmine nodded in agreement. "Now's that a fact."

  Chapter 3

  Cannibal, my immediate boss and a tough, no nonsense Enforcer, called before dawn the next morning. "Pack a week's worth of warm clothes. The warmest you have."

  Half asleep, it took an extra click to understand what he was saying. "But…"

  "What you don't have, we'll purchase along the way." He sounded as if he were tossing his own clothes into a bag while on the phone.

  "Where are we going?" I crawled out of bed, heading to the closet to pull out a large suitcase. "And, when? I have to talk to Dad about taking care of the boys."

  "I've already spoken to Victor. He'll pick up the boys in an hour and keep them for as long as you need to be gone." I heard a zip in the background along with a thump, like he had tossed a heavy bag on the floor. "You just have to get a move on."

  I pulled out a couple of sweaters and a heavy coat from the closet when a sudden thought hit me. "Wait a minute. You never told me where we're going."

  He puffed a breath against the phone. "To find the Yeti."

  I blinked. "What's a Yeti, and why are we looking for it?"

  I could almost hear the amusement in his voice. "You probably know it as the abominable snow monster, and because."

  My mouth fell open as the jacket I held dropped from my fingers to crumple on the floor.

  Just great. I would be stuck with the one quiet but deadly Enforcer whose pastime consisted of hunting mythical creatures in the middle of nowhere, in
a place where glacier pools must feel like a sauna.

  "And I have to go why?"

  "You're a gopher. I might need something."

  "Yeah, you need something all right. Sanity," I mumbled into the phone.

  I could almost see his mischievous grin, even as the other end of the line remained mute.

  "They don't have gophers in…" I mentally pulled up what I could remember as the home turf of the snow monster. Mountains and freezing cold was all that came to mind. "Wherever we're going?"

  "No. No Enforcer, or gopher for that matter, in his or her right mind would go there."

  I snorted in reply. I guess that left him and me, obviously not of sound mind, heading to who knows where, to find a white hairy monster who liked to eat people. Wonderful.

  No Twilight Zone music followed, so I surmised this was unfortunately a reality. A sigh of downtrodden acceptance escaped.

  Right on time, Cannibal met me at the private plane, bags in hand. One glance at my half a dozen oversized and overstuffed suitcases and he shook his head. "You going to carry that up the mountain with you?"

  I pursed my lips and considered my answer. "I haven't decided yet."

  He cracked a small grin.

  The pilot clambered down to help load up the baggage, giving the Enforcer a wide berth. Even in the outer circles of the Division, Cannibal retained a reputation for his surly temperament and penchant for snacking on body parts. Good news spreads fast or so I've been told.

  Before long, the plane took off, and we were headed to… somewhere. I took the opportunity to pull out the laptop, navigating Google to fill in many gaps in my knowledge of this Yeti thing and his home range. Nothing I read sounded appealing. High mountain altitudes, frigid temperatures, gusty winds, ice, snow, and people falling to their death. If I didn't fall off the mountain, I still had a high probability of freezing to death in a small tent staked to the side of a cliff. Great. My kind of vacation brochure. Oh, joy.

  I turned to study Cannibal as he sat with feet propped up on the seat in front of him, those long legs extended. The ends of his shoulder-length dark hair rested just under his shirt collar. A tall, solid frame held an abundance of muscles, more from manual labor than from bulking up lifting weights. With his piercing eyes, he probably found himself the topic of more than one woman's dream. As typical, he dressed in all black, blending easily into the shadows. No one knew his genetic makeup, and he didn't offer up hints. He didn't drink blood, possessed fangs, but I'd never seen him change forms or hike his leg on a tree. In my mind, he simply fit under the 'other' category.

  We met one difficult evening that ended with a ripped thong attached to my bracelet, a snarling vampire listing me as the main entrée on his menu, my panties soaking wet, and my face planted in his lap. Afterward, he asked for me to be assigned primarily to him. I guess he considered since I'd had an up close and personal meeting with his version of Mr Happy that we'd bonded enough for me to be his sole assistant.

  "Why am I being dragged along?"

  "I already answered that."

  "Yeah, but I don't think that was the real answer, or maybe it was only part of the answer."

  "What do you think the 'real' answer is?" He turned those deep brown eyes my direction.

  I met his gaze and answered, "I'm your emergency food supply in case you get lost in the mountains. Who needs granola bars when you can have Shy toes to nibble on instead?"

  He smiled, even chuckled. But he didn't bother to correct my line of thinking.

  Minutes went by without him saying another word. "You needed a vacation. So did I. Consider this an escape from the real world and all the troubles there."

  I considered his words and found them sound. Maybe some time away from my broken relationship would prove beneficial. If I survived the trek into the frozen tundra with all my fingers and toes intact.

  * * * *

  By the time we reached our destination, I knew two things. First of all, I had a bedhead hair-do that couldn't be tamed without a shower. And secondly, I had no business going to the middle of nowhere, in a country I had barely heard of, searching for a mythical creature with a man who sees my toes and thinks dinner is served.

  "Why are we searching for this thing?"

  "The Yeti?" He looked around, guiding me off the plane, even as a man gathered our bags. A nearby SUV waited.

  "Yeah, that."

  "Because?"

  He loaded us into the vehicle, and we were soon on our way, through cold and snow.

  "But, all I know about the abom… abomin… the big white snow monster…" He grinned at my stuttering attempt to actually pronounce the word. "All I know about it is when Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck found him, he wanted to keep them, hug them, love them, and call them George."

  A wide smile appeared on his normally serious face. "You get most of your information from the Cartoon Channel?"

  I shrugged. "Works for me."

  "I can see that."

  However many hours we drove, I had no clue. My body complained loudly about jetlag and the downright rudeness of being pulled from a balmy Clearwater City to an environment so cold, my hair froze stiff upon exposure.

  We stopped at some sort of outpost, where Cannibal bought us the warmest parkas available along with hiking and climbing supplies to help us get to the land of the Yeti thingy. Workers happily stuffed me into the new clothes, zipping me until only my nose and eyes peeked out. Extra sturdy hiking boots completed the ensemble.

  I tried to move and discovered with so many layers my knees didn't bend nearly as well as they used to. Come to think of it, my arms stuck out from my trunk too. One glance into a nearby mirror had me cringing. I now looked like a frosted version of the little gingerbread man in Shrek and walked like him too. That or a penguin. I couldn't decide which.

  "Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked, trying to wobble from side to side and not take out the nearest shelf of food.

  Cannibal nodded. He shifted and bent easily despite the extra bulk from his protective clothing. A couple of heavy-duty backpacks lay at his feet, where he quickly stuffed in food items and blankets.

  The native store owner produced a map, explaining in a foreign language directions and paths to take. Cannibal seemed to understand, pointing and speaking back in the same unfamiliar tongue. After a couple of minutes and some hand gestures, he appeared satisfied. A wad of bills passed to the storekeeper before Cannibal spun toward the door and hit the trail.

  Thirty minutes later, I felt like a frozen Popsicle version of the gingerbread man, and the thoughts of being baked in an oven actually sounded appealing. "Why can't we rent a snowmobile?" I puffed out through the heavy scarf, trying to ignore the wind gusting right into my face, leaving it tingly and raw. No one told me to bring lotion, either. At this rate, my cheeks would be red enough to rival a baboon's rear.

  Cannibal moved ahead, keeping the rope connecting us snug. "Snowmobiles can't climb up the steep slopes or handle the rocky terrain."

  He had a point. What I'd encountered thus far was stretches of a low angle incline only to meet up with rocky outcroppings where we had to climb up five or six feet before meeting the next flat tundra area. Thankfully, no sheer cliffs or true mountain climbing dangled in my future. The smaller slopes were more than enough for me to handle.

  I'd never admit it, but I sighed with relief when he attached the rope around my waist. I didn't have much hiking experience, let alone on a real mountain. Toss in it being night with snow flying, and I was easily out of my league.

  "How about a helicopter?"

  "No place to land."

  Drat. "How about we take the helicopter up, they hover, and we jump to the ground?"

  He paused to turn in my direction. "You want to jump out of a helicopter from two hundred feet in the air?"

  I blinked back. "Okay. Well, since you put it that way… no."

  We continued walking.

  Cannibal carried the bulk of our heavier supplies in h
is backpack. Mine held the lighter items, although it was packed just as full. He ambled along as if he tromped through a light snowstorm in rocky high terrain every morning for exercise and relaxation. I wasn't nearly so graceful or enduring.

  "Remind me again why I'm here?" I huffed out the question while trying to climb over a particularly rocky patch, one that I had slipped on once already only to land square on my backside. One benefit of a dozen layers of clothing, my bottom wasn't injured although my teeth jolted from the abrupt landing.

  "Food supply."

  "Oh, yeah. How could I forget?" A low rumbling began in my belly. "Do cannibals get gas?" I panted out between gasps for air in the high altitude climate.

  Cannibal paused long enough to yell over his shoulder. "Why in the hell are you asking me that?"

  I pulled myself another step upward before answering. "Well, I think those energy bars you fed us may have had extra fiber. I'm beginning to feel kinda bloated. Anyway, it would make me feel a whole lot better if you tooted first, you see. Ladies don't pass gas, at least not in front of their boss. But if you did it first, we can blame it all on you and avoid soiling my untarnished image."

  He snorted and kept moving. I took that for an affirmative on my plan. Now, I just had to convince my body to hold out until his fiber bars kicked in.

  Two hours later, we climbed snail-ishly slow up another large hill. The full moon helped greatly, allowing me to see shadowy shapes in the woods, most of the terrain, but nothing in great detail. The rest relied on feel and being literally dragged along by the big old cranky one.

  Cannibal had more control over his gas passage innards than anyone in the rest of the world. I wasn't near so lucky. Luckily, he didn't say anything, I felt better, and I decided if he so much as mentioned my human fault of granola bar-induced stinkage, I'd blame everything on him. After all, he's the one who fed them to me.

  I had argued for a light as we started this hair-raising trail. Even one of those miner's hard hats with the bulb up front would work great for me. After all, no sane person would climb these mountains in the dark. Come to think of it, we already established the lack of sanity a while back. My suggestion met with firm resistance, something about a light shining on the packed white snow and ice-covered rocks to the point of glare. At least his reasoning explained why we traveled at night instead of the bright daylight. With the sun beating down on the pristine white snow, I'd need sunglasses too. Sure, I could nicely make out gross shapes from the light produced by the moon on the snow, but the black ice on the dark-colored rocks gave me fits. He assured me his eyes did just fine in these stark conditions, and with additional illumination on top of the snow blindness, he couldn't see well enough to ensure we didn't fall, along with the threat of alerting any enemies to our exact position.