Sharkbait
Mini-Me

A week had passed since I returned to Coronado. The Baxter pack searched potential sites where Alexander’s coven might be holding werewolves, but found nothing. “Master Corvinus may have nothing to do with Traci and Timothy’s disappearance,” Adrienne admitted on the video call. “Alexander swore he doesn’t know who tried to hire Emily. Since we turned down his deal, he has no way to replace out. He did wish us the best of luck in keeping you alive.”

“Asshole.”

“A very old, smart, and rich asshole with a taste for your blood.”

The information we’d gotten from the Council historians indicated the effects of the bite could last for months. Leo and Mom didn’t want me anywhere near them, just in case. “What happens now?”

“We can’t keep up high levels of protection forever,” she said. Colleen had to return home a few days ago for her real job as a Dakota County Sheriff. Between Three Sisters and Miesville Packs, we would be able to keep at least one dedicated werewolf bodyguard with me for all planned events through September. When I traveled, Bodyglove would pay for local security details for me. It was a cost of business, especially overseas, where kidnappings for money were still happening. At home, I needed protection from the paparazzi, crackpots, and crazed fans that I gained as a celebrity.

I was running out of summer, with classes at Oregon starting up in two more weeks. Although our fall classes were all online, Amy and I had to attend Freshman Orientation. It would be our chance to tour the school, meet the professors, and pick up a lot of Duck swag for the family and around the house. Makani and Noelani were already up in Oregon, spending time finishing their Pack training and seeing friends before the summer ended. “Once we get back from Eugene, things will calm down. With lectures and homework, I won’t be going out much except for Bodyglove events. Beta Susan will be here to help.”

“She has her own life, Vicki. She’s got her relationship with Hammer, and she needs to help Amy while the twins and Luke are at school.” Amy and Luke were moving into Hammer’s home next week, and Luke would be attending Coronado High School with Makani and Noelani. “Promise me that you’ll stay alert and never go anywhere alone.”

“I promise, Aunt Adrienne,” I said. “Best case, Alexander made the whole thing up, and there is nobody out to get me.”

“Worst case, they hired someone else,” she said. “Now, what is this about you having a boyfriend?”

I blushed. “It’s no big deal,” I said. “We’ve gone out a few times. He’s a nice guy. You’d like him.”

“I don’t know if I like a man in his late twenties dating an eighteen-year-old girl,” she said with a bit of anger in her voice. “He’s almost a decade older than you!”

“He’s spent that extra time in training and on deployments, Mom. Hammer would kick his ass if he thought James was a bad match.” I wasn’t kidding, either. He stopped by the dojo during my training yesterday, and Hammer sort-of forced him to demonstrate attacks with guns and knives for the class. What that meant was that Hammer slammed, bent, and choked-out Petty Officer McFadden a couple of dozen times during their ‘demonstrations.’ He could barely get his leg over his motorcycle when we left. “Between him and his SEAL buddies, I’m safe.”

She nodded. “Have fun, but don’t do anything stupid, and don’t give up on your mate,” she said. “You know it can’t get serious if it isn’t him.”

“I know. Tell Leo I’ve almost got that sauce figured out.”

“He was worried. You know Bonnie will go to her grave without giving her recipe out. I love her food, so the next time we’re together, you can make ribs, and I’ll give you the verdict.”

“I love you.”

“We love you too, Vicki. Good night.”

I hung up the phone and got dressed for the party. One of the guys in James’ platoon was leaving the Teams for private life, and his Commanding Officer was hosting a farewell barbecue at their home on the base. Colleen was gone, but I wasn’t worried about the short ride to the amphibious base. Once at the party, I’d be surrounded by dozens of the finest warriors our country could produce.

I wouldn’t be alone on the back of my boyfriend’s motorcycle, after all.

I dressed in jean shorts, a muscle T-shirt, and a Bodyglove short sleeve ocean print blouse. Heading for the front hallway, I took down my riding gear.

My modeling contract had some clauses in it that affected how I had to live my life. I’d gotten used to only going out in public with Bodyglove brand products; Mercedes kept my closet filled with their latest fashions, and I wore them. Another clause dealt with ‘activities likely to cause injury or disfigurement’ and specifically included motorcycles. I called Mercedes when I found out James wanted me to ride with him. “The safest thing is not to get on a motorcycle, Vicki.”

“I understand that, but I live in San Diego, and I’ve been on snowmobiles and dirt bikes since I was a kid.”

“At least wear the proper gear,” she told me. “If you crash and get road rash on your legs or arms, your career could be OVER.”

“I can order a leather suit and helmet.”

“No. Give me a few days,” she said. Three days later, Amy and I received FedEx boxes from her. Inside were one-piece armored leather racing suits, motorcycle boots, and custom-painted shark-themed helmets.

I took my suit down off the rack, pulling the form-fitting leather over my legs and arms before zipping up the front. James LOVED the way my ass looked in leathers; he said I looked like a blonde Kate Beckingsale from the classic Underworld movies. I put the boots on and grabbed my sandals, helmet, and a swag bag as I heard his Suzuki Ultra 1200 sportbike pull into the driveway.

“Have fun,” Amy said as I opened the door. “We’ll be at Hammer’s place tonight, painting Luke’s new bedroom and cleaning out the garage. ”

“Don’t wait up,” I said. I kissed James, who looked hot in his racing suit. I put my sandals in his saddlebags and pulled on my gloves and helmet. Swinging a leg over, I settled in behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. James took off, smoothly accelerating through the residential streets before hitting Silver Strand Boulevard. It was a short ride to the Lincoln Military Housing complex.

We parked across from the house on Saipan Road, and we bagged up our leathers and helmets and brought them with us to the back yard. “Hey, Guys!” A man in his late thirties with shaggy brown hair, graying chest hair, board shorts, and Ray-Ban sunglasses ran up and bro-hugged him. “I can’t believe he finally trusted us around you, Vicki,” he said. “Commander Mark Prentice at your service. I’m this bum’s Commanding Officer.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” I replied.

“We had to invite James to get you here, so we did. Come on back, my wife and daughter want to meet you.” He led us around to the back yard, which overlooked the beach leading down to San Diego Bay. The Naval Base piers were right across the water from us. “Joan!”

A beautiful brunette in a sundress looked up from where she was setting out snacks on a table. “She’s here! Jessica!” Her mini-me appeared at the patio door, a pretty girl of about twelve in the middle of her growth spurt.

Jessica’s face lit up when she saw me. “You came!”

“I did,” I said as she ran into me and hugged my waist. “I heard you like sharks.”

“I DO! Come on, I’ll show you!” I told James to have fun, and let the girl pull me inside to her bedroom. She had the poster with Amy and me diving with sharks, and I saw we both had signed during my Navy Exchange event. I borrowed a Sharpie and signed the other poster, this one me on the beach. I handed her the swag bag I’d brought for her, and she squealed in delight as she pulled out the autographed Bodyglove T-shirt and sundress. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” We talked about diving for a few minutes before Joan showed up to get us back out to the party. Jessica stayed behind to change into the dress.

“You made her year,” Joan said as she walked me back to the kitchen.

“I’m glad James said something to me. I was a lot like that as a kid.” I helped her get more things out of the fridge, and we joined the men and their wives and girlfriends in the yard. I had a lot of fun, and Mark’s smoker put out good food. The party started to get wilder after sundown, and around eleven, James asked me if I was ready to go. “You don’t want to stay?”

“This is the part where the heavy drinking and manly posturing begins. I’d rather get you home.”

“You can come back if you want,” I said. At eighteen, I couldn’t drink with these guys without getting them in trouble. Our age difference ate at me at times like this.

“I’d rather spend time with you.”

Good answer. We said our goodbyes and put on our leathers for the ride back home. It was a beautiful night, the full moon high over the surf as it came in on the beach. I hugged him from behind as I thought about what I would do tonight. I had the house to myself, the hot tub would feel fantastic, and I might ask him to stay over.

A pick-up truck accelerated and moved into the left lane, slowing as it came up next to me. I looked over at the light tan F-150, seeing the shadow of a driver through the tinted window. It sped up again, then swerved hard right into our lane. James braked and swerved to the right, but the truck forced us off the road.

The Suzuki’s front wheel hit the soft sand of the shoulder, sending us flying. I landed painfully and rolled, coming to a stop in the scrub brush and rocks. The pickup truck stopped for a second, then drove off.

It didn’t have a license plate.

I crawled over to James, who had slammed into some of the larger rocks near the road. He wasn’t moving.

I called 911; when the patrol car stopped near us, I called Hammer.

Someone tried to kill me.