My Furry Valentine Read online

  My Furry Valentine

  The Furry Chronicles - Book 3

  Karen Ranney

  Karen Ranney LLC

  Copyright © 2018 by Karen Ranney

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  1. I had to protect my species

  2. Two shapeshifters in a tiff

  3. She had set me up

  4. He Skypes?

  5. Is there such a thing as a Were-cat?

  6. Wouldn’t that just frost Derek?

  7. Cherry Pip had been a basket case two weeks ago

  8. My grandmother the ottoman

  9. Am I special or what?

  10. It’s not what you think it is

  11. I really had come close to killing 500 Furries

  12. Truth above all

  13. Well, that was ridiculous

  14. Dumb bunny

  15. All in all it wasn’t a good feeling

  16. So we were all nuts

  17. Something was wrong

  18. We are paranormal, but we aren’t magical

  19. He had just bamboozled me

  20. Oh, goody, another danger

  21. Well, that was a hell of a way to wake up

  22. I’d ignored everything

  23. Just shoot me now

  24. What do you mean by this?

  25. I am the big bad wolf

  26. Here vampire, vampire

  27. What other secrets did my father have?

  28. I excused myself before I died of boredom

  29. One vodka martini coming up

  30. I had problems

  31. He was strong enough to hurt me

  32. How the hell had I ever been stupid enough to date him?

  33. I was not a nature gal

  34. I did like a brother who approved of me

  35. There was just too much testosterone at Graystone

  36. Graystone was a vampire safe zone

  37. Are you going to marry my daddy?

  Also by Karen Ranney

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  I had to protect my species

  As I pulled into the parking lot of the Alamo Veterinary Clinic, I removed the orange earplugs from my ears and dumped them into the cup holder. For the past two weeks they'd been the only thing to save me from the cacophony of my life. In all honesty, I hadn't anticipated acquiring super duper hearing as a Pranic trait.

  Sitting in the parking lot I could hear the animals in the boarding area. A puppy was whimpering, an older dog was making a sound in the back of his throat, and one cat was purring. Normally, the boarding section of the clinic was full at this time of year and that’s exactly what it sounded like now.

  The coffee pot was gurgling, and the clock in the breakroom and the reception area ticked off the minutes in militaristic precision.

  Alice’s car was in the parking lot, the ping, ping of the cooling engine clueing me into the fact that she’d just recently arrived.

  Behind me traffic roared, the engines of hundreds of cars polluting the air with sound. If I concentrated, I could hear the radios and the sound of the tires on the road. I focused on getting out of the car and closing the door silently — not because I was trying to be sneaky as much as prevent my ears from hurting — and made my way to the employee entrance.

  Each step on the asphalt sounded like the slap of a brush against a snare drum and I was wearing sneakers. At least my footsteps weren’t as loud as they were at Graystone with its wooden floors. I’d gotten to the point that I only wore socks at home.

  My hearing had gotten more acute with each passing day. Pretty soon I was going to pick up the sound of a jet landing in La Guardia. I was hoping — an irrational hope since nothing factual pointed me in that direction — that it would ease off just like it had increased. Or at least be something I could somehow control. Maybe twist my earlobe to hear something a few miles away.

  I doubted that was going to happen.

  After work today, I was going to go out to the castle to see Marcie. I wanted to make sure she was all right. In the meantime, if one of the doctors was free, I’d get checked out.

  I didn't want to have to wear earplugs for the rest of my life.

  Before I used my passkey on the door, I hesitated, listening. I could hear movement inside and knew it was Alice doing her thing. She inspected the clinic first thing in the morning, made notes about who hadn’t put something away or who left a messy desk. I think she reported to Derek, our managing member, about all the infractions, including who was the slob who didn’t wash out his coffee cup.

  I didn’t want to go inside.

  Two weeks ago I’d called in sick, telling the managing partner that I had some type of gastrointestinal upset, reasoning that he wouldn’t pry too much into the symptoms. I wasn’t about to tell Derek that I was recuperating from not one but two transfusions or that my home had been attacked by a rabid vampire.

  A few days had stretched into two weeks.

  In actuality, I had one of the strongest stomachs in the practice. One of the vets got squicked out when an animal came in with a respiratory infection. Snot was not her friend. Another would avoid any kind of vomit, animal or human. Two other vets had a problem with blood. I couldn’t figure out how they’d gotten through vet school.

  “I think it would be best if you got a doctor’s note, Torrance,” Derek said, all puffed up and pontificating. “I wouldn’t want you bringing anything into the clinic.”

  I rolled my eyes, grateful we weren’t Skyping, and said, “I would, Derek, but I haven’t been to a doctor. I can go, of course, but that would mean I’d be out one more day. I think I had food poisoning and that isn’t contagious.”

  With that, he’d reluctantly agreed that I should report for duty as soon as possible. Even though I had the time coming I was prepared to do my share of groveling. The reluctance to do so wasn’t the reason I was still standing outside the door.

  I didn’t know what to do about Alice.

  Unfortunately, the situation wasn’t going to get better by wishing it away. Something had to give.

  She had called the police on me, but that wasn’t the reason I needed to talk to her. She had seen my father and fellow Council members fighting with a bunch of vampires.

  That would be bad enough, because there was a lot of prejudice about prejudice going around lately. In other words, the PC Police were out and about. You had to be careful what you said about vampires. They were “life challenged” or “sunlight deprived.” You couldn’t call them blood suckers or fanged weirdos. You had to say things like cis-vampire and the new thing was to use the suffix “ell” appended to their names. I hadn’t figured that out until the other day when I was looking at my newsfeed. A prominent vampire in San Antonio was David Benson, now David Benson. The two lls looked like descending fangs.

  Nope, Alice had gotten an eyeful, and it wasn’t just my father and his cronies laying into the vamps. They’d been Furry when they were doing it. I’m a Were but I call myself a Furry, to my family’s consternation. My father is a Were. Most of the people I know are Weres.

  The world, however, doesn’t know about Weres. I couldn’t wait until they found out. What would they do to our names? They’d probably make us use “olf”, which meant that I would be Torrance Boydolf. Would I become a cis-wolf or a cis-Furry?

  I couldn’t keep any of it straight.

  The only thing I did know was that Alice had seen us, had reported the fight to the police, and no
w I had to do something about it.

  And I didn’t want to.

  I’m six feet tall and relatively strong, especially since I’d become Pranic — which basically is a super Were with vampire and witch blood — but I still don’t like confrontation. I especially don’t like confrontation with women. I don’t know why. I’m not scared, exactly. It’s just that women can be, well, catty. Especially if the woman is a species other than human, which I’m sure Alice was. I just didn’t know exactly what she was.

  I was leaning toward witch, but I wasn’t sure. Since I had a few pints of witch/vampire blood in me you would think that would lead to some kind of detente between Alice Fenway and me. Don’t count on it. From the moment I’d arrived at the clinic almost a year ago, she’d been snarling at me. Unfortunately, I’d reciprocated. We’d both gone behind each other’s backs and been snide, not to mention juvenile. My relationship with Alice hadn’t been among my most shining moments.

  I keyed in my card and stepped inside the clinic, made my way to the locker room, determined to change into scrubs and find Alice. She was peas before dessert. My mother had always said that it was better to do what you didn’t like and get it out of the way first, so at least the dread was over. I liked dessert, but I hated peas, so I always ate the peas first.

  Until now I’d never noticed that florescent lights were so loud. The buzz followed me into the locker room. I could just imagine what the noise level was going to be like once the rest of the staff got to work. But I was going to have to tolerate it. Either that or wear earplugs and get curious looks all day.

  Opening my locker sounded like a prison cell door sliding open. I concentrated on changing my clothes, trying not to pay any attention to the rasp of fabric against my skin, my breath echoing in my chest, or the booming beat of my heart.

  Sitting on one of the long benches between the lockers, I put my sneakers back on and tied them. The act that had been silent a week ago was now one filled with sounds, the shoelaces abrading as I formed a knot, the soft squeak as the rubber of my soles touched the shiny tiled floor, my fingers grazing the tops of my socks.

  Every action I’d taken for the past two weeks had been accompanied by a symphony.

  My stomach gurgled, but I knew it wasn’t hunger. Nerves kept me tense as I stood, put my cell phone into the locker, grabbed the keycard on its lanyard and hung it around my neck. I fluffed my hair around my shoulders, took a deep breath, and went in search of Alice.

  I didn’t wanna. I really didn’t. However, I was a grownup, a responsible home owner, a pet parent, a veterinarian, and a member of the Were Council. Plus I was a Furry and, as such, I had to protect my species.

  Even if I whined a little doing it.

  Chapter Two

  Two shapeshifters in a tiff

  I walked into the breakroom, but Alice wasn’t there.

  I heard her on the phone in the reception area. I could also hear Derek on the other end.

  “Yes, she’s here.”

  “Does she look sick?” Derek asked.

  “She looks like she normally looks. That’s sick enough.”

  What was this, high school?

  Alice was a woman of a certain age, as they say. I pegged her for about fifty, maybe a few years younger. Her brown hair was worn in a bob just below her ears with bangs that hid her high forehead. She wasn’t an unattractive woman, but I never noticed her looks because of her personality. That needed work.

  She was dour, a Scottish word that seemed to fit her perfectly. You got the impression of gray skies and chilled wind when you looked at her. Her brown eyes weren’t filled with warmth as much as condemnation, almost as if she was already pissed about something you hadn’t even done yet.

  Her voice matched her personality. It was raspy, as if she’d screamed obscenities at someone the night before. I couldn’t help but wonder if she smoked, but I’d never smelled it on her.

  Her voice grated on me more than usual now.

  “Tell her I need to talk to her.”

  “Can’t wait,” she said and laughed, the sound like pliers pinching my spine.

  I walked out into the reception area and stood there watching her. I wished that my other handy dandy skill would pop up right now. I think I was a walking lie detector. I had the ability to see what other people wanted to keep hidden. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the ability to turn it on at will. It happened when it happened and it wasn’t happening now. I didn’t see any aura around Alice.

  Alice hung up the phone and turned, taking her time, like she knew I was there. I’d been as silent as a cloud moving across the sky, but she probably sensed me.

  “So you’ve finally decided to come to work,” she said, looking at me.

  “What are you?” I asked, deciding to go for the jugular. None of this polite stuff. “A witch? A goblin? What?”

  She didn’t say anything for the longest time, merely smiled at me in a way that gave me the creeps. I was strong for a woman, being a Furry. The Pranic blood I’d received gave me even more strength. I could hold my own with Alice, whatever she was. Unless, of course, she hexed me, or cursed me, or mumbled a spell over me. I didn’t know what the hell I would do about that.

  I guess I was part witch, having been given a Pranic transfusion. The problem was that I didn’t know anything about witches.

  Being a Were had not prepared me for a world of paranormal beings, and I know how odd that sounds. A Furry is not a complicated creature. We’re remarkably normal, especially when you consider that there are vampires with rabies floating around. And I do mean floating.

  “Well?”

  She still hadn’t answered me, but I could be as stubborn as a rock sometimes.

  “You’re such a clever girl, Torrance. Your skills are wasted here.”

  I felt the first warning twinge.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve been talking about it,” she said. “All of the partners. We need to depend on our staff and you haven’t been the least dependable in the past two weeks.”

  “I’ve been ill,” I said, annoyed that I was forced into defending myself to Alice, of all people. The problem was she and Derek were tight. Like dominatrix and submissive tight.

  “The police told me that you reported a fight at my house,” I said, hoping to direct the conversation back to the night of the Were/Vamp war in my backyard.

  I didn’t want to come out and ask what she’d seen. I was hoping that she’d volunteer. Nothing, however, had ever been easy when it came to Alice.

  "What are you?" I asked again. “Are you a witch? Or a shapeshifter of some sort?”

  "I don't know what you're talking about," she said her voice laced with amusement.

  "You know what I am, don't you?" I said, irritated beyond measure that I had to be the one to reveal myself first.

  "You're an abomination," she said, smiling.

  She wasn't the first person to have said that to me lately. My own brother had called me that. If she expected me to get all weepy eyed, she was doomed to disappointment. I’d spent a lifetime of feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. The weirder I became the more natural I felt. And trust me, I know how strange that sounds.

  "You're a werewolf," she said.

  The amusement had vanished from her voice and in its place was a layer of contempt. Big whup. My feelings weren't hurt one little bit.

  I focused on her intently, wishing that I had gotten to the point of being able to control the ability to see people’s secrets. I didn't get anything from her. No purple haze, no blue aura, no orange glow. Zip. Nada. She was just standing there, staring at me a curious little smile curving her lips.

  It hit me then like a dump truck.

  I’d never before realized how catlike Alice was. I’d thought her sly, but I had never equated that to being feline. I treated every cat patient of mine with great delicacy, only because they figured out what I was and didn't particularly like it. I bet Alice got along with cats just f
ine.

  I could swear that Alice's eyes gleamed with mischief, almost like a cat, just before they push a full glass off the edge of a table.

  "You’re a cat of some sort, aren’t you?"

  She didn’t answer.

  “Does Derek know that I’m a Were?”

  She still didn’t say a word.

  I took a few steps toward her. If I hadn't been watching her so closely, I might have missed that slight movement she made with one hand, almost as if she wanted to reach up and claw me. Did she have the ability to turn at will? If she wasn't subjected to lunar influences, then what made her change?

  I had the distinct feeling that I wasn’t going to get any of my curiosity answered, so I tried a different line of questioning.

  "Why did you tell Marianne to destroy my messages?”

  Two weeks ago, before my brother tried to drain me dry, I had discovered that Alice had given our head receptionist instructions to trash all the messages I received from Mark.

  Mark was my boyfriend, even if I felt a little goofy thinking of him in that way. Man friend? Lover? Soulmate? We were getting closer to the truth, but now was not the time to try to figure out how I felt about Mark Avery.

  "Why did you do that? For spite? Because you liked making Marianne miserable?”

  I took another step forward. She took a step back.

  Only about three feet separated us and the air almost danced with energy.