Page 6 of Ivory's Familiars

It was clear she was tense and nervous, and his panther could also smell the acrid scent of fear. The aroma bothered him on a primal level and had his animal wanting to rub up against her in comfort. Instead, he put on his professional hat and gestured to a table, “Maybe we could sit and you could tell us what’s been going on.”

Ivory nodded, straightening her shoulders, “Yes, of course. Please sit. Ronan, right?” she asked, as they made their way to a six-seater table.

He nodded easily, firmly ignoring the thrill he got from hearing his name on her lips, “Right. And this is Seth and Vaughn,” he gestured to his companions, reconfirming the names she had seen on their identifications.

She nodded at each of them in turn, “Thank you for coming. I’ve been having some … issues lately.”

Seth leaned forward on the chair he was straddling. It wasn’t very professional of him but it was a habit Ronan hadn’t been able to break him of yet, “What kind of issues?”

“Creeper issues.”

“Creeper issues?” Seth questioned.

Ivory nodded, “Uh huh. At first, I just thought I had a secret admirer, you know? I received flowers, chocolates … things like that. No card, no return address. The first month or so, they were all rather innocuous …” She trailed off.

“But then they stopped being innocent?” Seth prompted.

She laughed a little, “You could say that. Photos, underwear, and last week … a dead rabbit.”

That got Vaughn’s attention and he sat up straighter, “A dead animal?”

She swallowed hard, looking a little green, “Yes. It was in my letterbox. I think it had been drowned.”

The three of them glanced at each other; that wasn’t good. If the stalker was escalating to that degree, he or she was becoming unstable, “Have you kept everything from this stalker? The letters, the gifts?” he asked.

“Not at the beginning, no. But after the first few weeks, I did.”

“Good. Why don’t you go grab it all for us so we can see what we’re working with? Then we can go from there,” he suggested.

Ivory released a pent-up breath and nodded her head. She stood without further comment, practically running from the room. The movement disrupted the air and caused her scent to waft over him once again. He breathed deep – it was delicious … and oddly familiar.

“Well? What do we think?” Ronan asked, leaving unspoken that he was questioning the legitimacy of the job. They would know what he was alluding to.

“She’s scared. I’ll give her that,” Vaughn acknowledged.

Seth nodded, “She is at that. And I didn’t scent any deceit. I think we can rule out her being a hunter, but there’s just something about her … I can’t put my finger on it,” Seth muttered, looking in the direction Ivory had disappeared.

“I can,” Ronan asserted. The knowledge had just slammed into him moments before, “She smells like us – like all of us,” and it was driving him insane, he added to himself.

The other two looked surprised, taking deep breaths and trying to capture the lingering scent of the female who had just left. Vaughn grunted;

“You’re right. She smells like rain, earth, and vanilla,” he turned and faced him, “You always smell like fresh green grass to me, or falling leaves in autumn. Fresh, crisp … welcoming.”

Ronan nodded, “And you always smell like an approaching storm, wild and turbulent, fresh and powerful.”

Seth was nodding but frowning at the same time, “I agree. But she also smells like vanilla,” he scrunched his nose up, “I don’t smell like vanilla.”

Ronan winced internally. Something told him Seth wasn’t going to like hearing that he did, in fact, smell remarkably like the flavoured orchid. He turned to Vaughn, “You wanna tell him?”

“Tell me what?!” Seth already had a belligerent look on his face and Ronan fought the chuckle building in his chest. He sure was cute when he was disgruntled.

Vaughn nodded, actually grinning for once – too bad it was at Seth’s expense, “You, my little kitten, absolutely smell like vanilla. All sweet and tasty-like.”

Seth gasped in outrage, looking positively horrified, “I do not!”

“You do,” Ronan confirmed, but was very quick to add; “But it’s not a bad thing. My cat loves it. He always wants to roll around in your scent.”

His younger lover didn’t seem convinced if his glower was anything to go by, “I do not smell like vanilla. I smell like dirt and sweat and all things manly,” he grumbled.

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