Bound by Shadow (20 page)

Finally, as Andy’s off-key warbling reached the earsplitting stage from upstairs, Merilee shouldered her bow. “Come on,” she said to Cynda. “Put away the big pocketknife and let’s go upstairs. I’m hungry, and we need some sleep.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Cynda sheathed her smoldering sword and turned on Merilee. “How can you possibly think about food right now?”

“Uh, because my stomach is empty?” Merilee tried to hold her sarcastic expression, but ruined it with a big yawn. “Come
on
. I feel like I’m at a peep show.”

She stretched and left the bedroom.

Cynda turned back toward Riana, and Riana braced for another barrage of accusations and admonitions.

Instead, Cynda gave Riana a miserable, distressed look, hung her head, and left without saying another word.

Riana swallowed hard.

She wished Cynda had slapped her or threatened her with the sword. Anything but look at her like she had just lost her best friend.

Creed tensed behind her.

Riana started to turn over and try to be bright and cheerful, started to say that Cynda would be okay, that she’d get over whatever she was feeling, but Creed was out of the bed in a heartbeat.

Just as fast, he jumped over the destroyed bedroom door and took off toward the lab.

All Riana could do was blink at the splintered doorframe. Then she glanced at the ceiling, thinking about upstairs, where Cynda, Merilee, and Andy were no doubt discussing her in great detail. She flopped back against her pillow, lay there for about a minute, then felt that wash of loneliness and need that had driven her to fetch Creed from his jail cell in the first place.

It wasn’t long before she was up, putting on her robe, and heading down the hall to the lab. She figured he left so quickly to keep her from having any more trouble with her triad, but that horse was so totally out of the barn. Screw it for now. She wanted to curl up next to him and feel his arms around her while she slept. She wanted to wake up next to him and see his sexy eyes gazing at her, see that grin and revel in the tender way he looked at her, even if it was just a onetime indulgence.

She pushed open the door to the lab and immediately saw the cell keys on the floor. Confused, she stooped and picked them up. When she stood, she saw Creed in the cell. He had put on jeans and a T-shirt, and he was sitting on the cot with his fists pressed into his eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked, unfamiliar anxiety and doubt spreading through her chest like a cold chill. She walked toward the cell, intending to open the door and go in to him if he wouldn’t come out to her.

“Stay away from me,” he growled—only it wasn’t totally his voice.

Riana stopped abruptly and tightened her fingers around the keys. She narrowed her eyes. He looked normal enough, but she was starting to recognize that rock-hard tightness in his muscles, that agonized expression, and the half-hateful way he spoke when he was battling the
other
.

“What made it come forward?” she asked, keeping her voice low and quiet. “Cynda and Merilee bursting into the bedroom? The things they said?”

Creed offered no response.

“Did they make you angry?” She fidgeted with the keys, hating how worried and jumpy she felt. “What set the
other
off?”

Creed jerked his fists away from his eyes. He glowered at her, or the
other
did, then Creed seemed to regain control. His expression softened to one of apology, then regret.

“You did, honey.” He sounded as unhappy as he looked, and the voice was all his again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why, but the
other
goes crazy every time I touch you.”

It was Riana’s turn to be silent. She gazed at Creed, wanting to reject the enormity of what he’d just said. And the fact that this didn’t seem new to him. He wasn’t the least bit surprised, was he?

“I thought—when I got back here, it went dead inside me. I didn’t think it would be a problem.” He opened his hands in a pleading gesture. “Give me some time. I’ll figure it out. But right now I need to be alone.”

Riana nodded, increasingly numb. She backed out of the lab and closed the door behind her. All the energy seemed to drain out of her body as she forced herself down the hallway. From upstairs, she heard Andy, Merilee, and Cynda talking, then laughing. All of a sudden, it seemed like they were on a different planet from her, off-limits, unavailable. She didn’t think she’d be welcome if she went up there, and she couldn’t talk to them about what Creed had just said. They’d tell her they knew it was a bad idea. They’d tell her she was stupid to have taken such huge chances, and even more stupid because she had trusted him. Because she still did trust him, and still wanted him with her so badly she felt it like a fist around her heart.

Taking care to avoid the bigger chunks of wood, Riana eased into her bedroom. She picked up her broken door and propped it against the doorframe as best she could. Then she blew out all the candles, crept into her bed, wrapped her arms around herself, and cried herself to sleep.

16

Creed did everything he could to force his thoughts away from Riana for the rest of the weekend, and the ten days following that, too, when he was out of the cell during the day and on the job. Work was boring as hell, and frustrating. Captain Freemen denied his requests to interview Alisa James, and bitched about Creed and Andy wanting to question Senator Latch and his wife, and even their assistant, Frith Gregory.

Interviewing James would be useless. Something’s wrong with her, I’m telling you…

Talking to Latch or his wife would not be under the radar, Lowell. We’re bringing them in end of the week for follow-up with the Special Victims cops actually assigned to this investigation. Read the transcripts and make do…

Yes, we need to resolve the occult elements in this murder, and they might be important, but you can’t start a media frenzy…

Don’t make me use these stripes against you, Lowell…

Life at the brownstone was exciting by comparison—and that wasn’t saying much. As Creed knew, no Asmodai had caused any trouble since the attack in the park, and the Sibyls never went out to deal with anything else. They rarely came downstairs, either. Creed had to rely on Andy, who brought him food—and she spent way too much time enjoying the fact that he had spent the better part of two weeks hanging out in a jail cell, when he wasn’t imprisoned by work.

Can’t believe you let a woman lock you up and do experiments on you, Lowell…

Daaay-umm, she must be good in bed…

Hey, sweet cheeks, she must have the keys to your heart. Oh, wait. Look here. She loaned them to me…

Andy’s ribbing aside, Creed slept some, ate a lot, and talked case strategy with Andy every time she came into the lab. And every time Andy took him for a walk downstairs, he felt Riana’s absence like an ache in his gut. Riana had apparently moved out of her room, turning it over to Andy for the duration. When Creed asked Andy what was going on, Andy said Riana was sleeping upstairs on the couch.

Upstairs. Definitely away from me.

That hurt, but Creed understood. She probably didn’t want to see him after realizing the
other
’s reaction to her. Even if she wanted to see him, she didn’t need to.

Still, whenever he went into her room to use her bathroom, he smelled her.

He smelled them, together, even though the sheets had been changed.

The broken door had been tossed to one side of the rumpled bed, and Andy had left her clothes lying everywhere, but even that didn’t stop Creed from remembering how it felt to see the need on Riana’s normally composed face. He couldn’t stop thinking about the wet heat of her excitement as he drove into her, the fire of her nails on his back, or the sweet sound of her screams as she came. He wanted to make love to her again. He wanted to hold her all night and kiss her awake the next morning.

Creed wanted to make Riana scream again.

No real chance of that, with her living upstairs now.

Finally, early Thursday morning, Riana came into the lab to get the pistol-thing she had been working to adjust. Creed was wide awake, doing push-ups, waiting for Andy to finish her shower and let him out. They usually hit the station early, and he still had to go by his place to pick up some clean work clothes.

Maybe it was a faint whiff of lavender or rain, or maybe it was the whisper of fine cloth over soft skin, but he sensed her before he saw her. It took him two seconds to get to his feet and mop his face with his sheets. When he turned around, she was holding her pistol and watching him, her green eyes wide and misty.

He put his hands on the bars and started to speak, but couldn’t find any words to say. She was just too damned beautiful.

She had her hair brushed over one shoulder of her tailored black jacket, which flowed seamlessly over her form-fitting black skirt. Underneath the jacket, a white silk shirt was open at the neck, just enough to give him a glimpse of her crescent moon pendant—and a hint of cleavage beneath it. His body responded to her so immediately he was grateful for his loose-fitting warm-ups.

She broke the silence with, “I hope you haven’t been too uncomfortable down here.”

“Not uncomfortable.” He stared at her, caressed her with his eyes, and enjoyed the flush of color spreading across her cheeks and neck. “Just lonely.”

She moved, not much, but definitely toward him. “I—I couldn’t. Be down here with you, I mean. With Bette’s death, I couldn’t abandon Cynda and Merilee. I had to—”

He stopped her by raising one hand. “I understand. And I think you made the right decision.”

She blinked. Actually looked disappointed. “Yes, well.” The way her lips parted when she took a breath nearly made him groan. “I suppose I should get back upstairs.”

“Stay.” He gripped the bars harder. “Let me look at you.”

Riana swallowed hard and started breathing too fast…but she didn’t leave. Her fingers traveled over her pistol in that way that made Creed want to grab her and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

“I realize you didn’t have to come back here once you left Monday before last,” she said, “but I appreciate your cooperation. I’d advise you to keep spending your nights with us, or at least another triad. Asmodai can find you if they’re targeted to you, even if you go to another city.”

The thought of not returning to Riana, even if he couldn’t be in the same room with her, actually caused Creed physical pain. He shook his head. “I’m staying because I want to. When I’m here, I keep myself in this cell because it’s safer for you.”

Riana stroked the pistol a little faster. “Look, if you’re planning—I mean, hoping to have another chance to—you know. Don’t.”

“Damn straight I’m planning. As soon as I can, I’m going to make you scream again, maybe louder this time.” He winked at her and watched her turn a deeper shade of red. “I’m coming back because of that, yeah, but also because of your friends and the woman who got slaughtered at the park. And the women who tried to kill me. I’m coming back for Andy and the dead kid, and the Sibyl who probably shouldn’t be in jail.”

She walked toward him again, and he held her gaze.

“I don’t fully understand this battle,” he admitted, “but I’m in it now. I never walk away from a fight, honey.”

“I don’t suppose you would.” She stopped a few inches from the cell bars and held her pistol in front of her like a shield.

He willed her to stay away and come closer at the same time. As long as he was in the cage, the
other
barely stirred—but could he guarantee that? Did he know for sure that it would be safe to touch her as long as he was behind the treated bars?

“I want to kiss you,” he said.

Riana drew another shaky breath.

She leaned forward, then seemed to dredge up the strength to hold herself in check. “Bad idea,” she murmured. “I’m not up for interruptions.”

As if taking a cue, Andy burst into the lab yelling, “You ready to roll, because we’re gonna be late.”

Riana jumped so badly she nearly dropped her pistol and had to jerk it to her chest with both hands. She whirled toward Andy, who pointed to the contraption and said, “If that silver thing is some kind of freak-ass sex toy, I don’t even want to know.”

“Andy.” Creed let go of the bars.

“Don’t tell me!” She put both hands over her ears. “I can live my whole life without knowing what it is—and I sure as hell don’t want to know what it does.”

Riana waited until Andy lowered her hands. “It’s a portable spectrograph.”

Creed vaguely remembered the term from college.

Andy frowned and stared at the silver barrels. “Spectrograph. Is that a kinky medical thing?”

Riana laughed, and Creed felt like the whole lab brightened at the sound. “It’s a device to measure and give photographic images of the light spectrum.”

Now Creed remembered, but the machines he saw in chemistry and physics were ten times the size of the instrument Riana held in her hands. He said so, and Riana agreed with him.

“They can be huge, but I don’t need huge for what I’m trying to see.” She ran her fingers over the metal barrels. “Last year, I determined that all three types of Asmodai leave traces of gas behind, especially the fire demons. I’m looking for a filter that will isolate trails of sulfur dioxide. Footprints, if you will.”

“Okaaay. Whatever.” Andy fished the cell keys out of her pocket. “Sulfur. That shit reeks.” She headed across the lab to release Creed. “Why don’t you take your—uh, the stink-a-scope and move to the other side of the room. We need the
other
to play nice, because we have to get on the road.”

Riana looked down at her newly christened stink-a-scope, looked back up at Creed, and smiled at him. The sight of her beautiful, amused face warmed him up inside. If wishes melted bars, he would have had her in his arms at that moment, Andy be damned.

But Andy, of course, wouldn’t be damned. She got the cell door open, dropped the keys on the cot, grabbed Creed’s arm, and more or less dragged him out of the lab.