Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (8 page)

Vince glowered at me.

“It’s just for one night. I’ll be back Thursday, late. Unless you want to come with me? My treat.”

His startled expression brought me up short.

I’d allowed his concern for my safety to sway me into thinking he’d be receptive. I should have known better. Weeks had gone by and he still hadn’t kissed me. If that wasn’t a major clue to his ambivalence, I didn’t know what was.

Realizing my mistake, I blurted, “Oh, but I suppose you have to work. Never mind. I wasn’t thinking.”

He frowned. “No. I’m off. Just … not sure I could get a ticket at the last minute.”

It was a flimsy excuse. Further proof I’d caught him flat-footed.

“Yeah. I didn’t think of that,” I said, forcing any hint of disappointment out of my voice.

In the living room, my cell rang. I trotted to the couch to retrieve it, grateful for the diversion. Although after my experience with Sheriff Lancer, a call from the FBI hardly put my mind at ease.

“Hi. This is Lire.”

“Ms. Devon, Agent Cunningham here. I’m sorry to bother you. When I tried you at your office, your partner said you’re up near Coventry today. I hope I’m not getting you at a bad time.”

“No, not at all. Just sorting out Nick Coulter’s estate. Nothing I can’t take a quick break from. What can I do for you?”

Vince wandered to the patio door to peer out at the yard. With his back turned, I couldn’t help admiring the fit of his jeans … and the well-built man inside them. I averted my gaze and forced myself to focus on Cunningham’s words.

“I have a colleague from the Atlanta office who needs help with a case. He’s out here this week. I hoped you could spare some time for him.”

“Do you know what he needs?”

“From what he’s told me, he needs an item read. A piece of jewelry.”

I frowned. “From a victim, or what?”

“No. It belongs to a suspect.”

“Are we talking murder? Something violent? Because, to be honest, I’m not sure I can deal with that right now. I’m … I’m still dealing with the fallout from the last one.”
Not to mention my recent fun with the fingerprint machine.

“I understand. Agent Fisk didn’t say why, but he believes your knowledge concerning the Circle Murders will be of help to him.”

My instincts urged me to issue an immediate ‘no,’ but I couldn’t help wondering why my experience on that particular case made my involvement valuable. Was it the ritual sacrifice part? The demon? Or that I’d been kidnapped by a megalomaniacal telepathic serial killer?

Even in my thoughts, it sounded absurd. I might have laughed if it all hadn’t actually happened.

I squeezed the phone at my ear, oblivious to the lengthening silence, and struggled to push the frightening memories out of my mind.

“Ms. Devon?”

“Yes. I’m here.”

“I can understand your reluctance. Just meet with us. You’re under no obligation to read anything.”

I had a great deal of respect for Cunningham. He appreciated magic users, for one, and seemed to have a dim view of those who didn’t. I knew he was a good guy. I couldn’t stomach the thought of letting him down if there was some way I could help him. “Okay. I’m going out of town Wednesday, so it’ll have to be tomorrow sometime. Will that work?”

“Yes. How about 9:30 in the morning? My office?” he suggested.

“Okay. See you then.”

When I said goodbye, Vince turned from the window, looking inquisitive. He frowned after evaluating my expression.

I told him the reason for Cunningham’s call. His eyebrows twitched when I mentioned Atlanta.

“What?” I studied him. “You know something?”

He shrugged. “Probably just a coincidence. There have been a string of murders out that way recently. Been in the news.”

Clearly, I needed to start watching CNN again. I’d stopped after the Circle Murders broke the headlines because many of the reports seemed to be about me. “Any mention of magic being involved?” I hesitated before adding, “Or demons?”

“No. That, I would have remembered.”

No doubt.

I rubbed my hand across my mouth and nodded. “Atlanta’s a big place. Might not have anything to do with what’s in the news.”

“Hope so. From what I understand, the murders weren’t pretty.”

I grimaced. “I’ll take your word for it.” I tossed my cell phone into my purse. “I have a couple more things to do before I head back to my apartment. Mind giving me a hand before you go?”

Cataloging the remaining kitchen items and bagging up all of Nick’s clothes didn’t take long. I still needed to deal with the downstairs office, but I wanted to head home before it got dark.

As we loaded my car with the belongings I intended to keep, Vince told me, in his intractable voice, he planned to follow me back to my apartment. I nodded numbly, too perplexed by his mixed signals to know what to think. If he was going to dump me, I wished he’d just be done with it.

We stepped into the warmth of my loft apartment just before six. Vince and I each carried a box up from my car, both of which we placed on the floor to the right of the door.

“Thanks. Just leave them there. I’ll deal with them later.” After setting my purse down so Red could climb out, I asked, “You hungry?”

“Sure. I could eat.”

Vince followed me toward the kitchen. Now that I was home, it was safe to remove my gloves. I threw them on the granite counter where they’d be out of the way.

Vince relaxed at the table, leaning back in his chair with a forearm resting on the table’s edge and one leg crossed over his opposite knee. He watched me as I filled a pot with water and hefted it to the largest burner on the cooktop.

“So, what have you been doing the past few weeks?” I asked.

He shrugged. “The first week or so I took it easy on my shoulder, hung around the house. After it healed up some, I was able to get a few chores done that I’ve been putting off.”

I took the chair across from him while I waited for the water to boil. “I thought you’d gone back to work.”

“Nope. After an injury like this, the brass are pretty finicky about making us take the time to heal up.” He casually drummed his fingertips on my farmhouse table. “When I go back on Monday, I’ll be on desk duty until I get a clean bill of health.”

I gave him the once over, hesitating before asking, “Then why didn’t you call me?”

He looked surprised. “I did.”

“Yeah. Twice. And only to return my calls. You sounded so distracted I figured you were on a new case or something.”

I tried to read his expression. If he hadn’t been occupied by a new case, then why had he been avoiding me? Because that’s exactly what he’d been doing. For the past few weeks, I’d suspected as much, but hadn’t been brave enough to admit it to myself until now.

“I’m sorry for not calling more. I just …” He took my hand in his, frowning and looking down at our intertwined fingers. “After what happened, I needed to get my head around things.”

“Around my magic, you mean. I know it freaks you out.”

“No.” He squeezed my hand, echoing his determined reply. “It has nothing to do with you. It’s me.”

Right. The whole ‘
it’s me’
excuse
.

Heart sinking, I nearly snatched my hand out of his grasp. It wasn’t easy, but I made an effort to sit still and plaster an inquisitive yet considerate look on my face. “I don’t understand.”

Finally, under my unrelenting gaze, he spoke, “I was there and I failed to protect you. I let that …
thing
take you away.” He released my hand to sit back in his seat and ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s my job, for Christ’s sake.”

Really? That’s what this is about?

“It was my choice to bargain with it.” I stabbed the center of my chest with my finger. “
Mine
. I couldn’t bear to see you and Jack and Red suffer Brian’s fate. You have no reason to beat yourself up about it. There was nothing you could have done. Not even a Warrior of the Holy Cross could have saved us from that creature.”

He blew out a breath and folded his arms, muscles tight. “Yeah? Then why don’t I believe you?”

“What?” I could hardly get the words out. “You think I’m lying? Why would I lie?”

He continued to stare at me, frowning.

“I’m totally serious. Once a high demon like Paimon has that kind of access to our world, there are very few mortals who have the skills to close its portal.” Conscious of his continued scrutiny, I said, “You still don’t believe me.” I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

“Maybe you should ask Daniel.”

Huh?

“What does Daniel have to do with anything? And how the hell would he know? He wasn’t even there.”

Vince’s stony expression told me nothing. I wanted to get up and shake some sense into him, or give Daniel a hard pinch on the ear. Honestly, both sounded good.

“He said something to you. And it wasn’t just about a sidhe wanting to meet you. What else did he say?”

“If I had accepted my sidhe …
heritage
, I could have easily saved you.” He spat the word ‘heritage’ like it was something contemptible.

“That’s—” I stopped before I could say ‘ridiculous.’ For all I knew, the sidhe did have the power to banish demons. I bit my lip and then admitted, “Okay. That’s not something I’d considered. Maybe it’s true. I’ve never met a sidhe. Who the hell knows what powers are passed down through a blood connection? And I’m willing to bet Daniel doesn’t—the smug bastard. The next time I see him, I’m going to kick his ass for implying you’re somehow at fault for what happened to me.”

His expression remained tense as he rubbed the back of his neck.

I got up, accompanied by the squeak of chair legs, and stomped around the table to stand over him. “And I don’t lie.” I poked his chest. “You got that?”

After a moment to consider my face, his shoulders eased and he sighed. “Yes.” He took my hand, squeezing it. “Got it.”

“Good. Now, let me finish making dinner and then we’ll talk more about this. Think you can manage a conversation about the sidhe without getting all—” I twirled my fingers in the air before settling on, “Testy?”

He grunted. “Testy, huh? Is that how I’ve been? Testy?”

“Yes.” I put a hand on my hip and stared down at him. “That’s right. I said it.”

He laughed. “Okay. You win. I’ll do my best to avoid getting …
testy.
”

Twenty-five minutes later, we sat down to eat, easier in each other’s company.

He twirled his fork into his steaming plate of spaghetti before devouring another bite. He complimented me.

“It’s not like it was hard. You boil it. You drain it. You put it in the sauce.”

He made a dismissive sound. “The sauce isn’t from a jar. It’s delicious. Accept the compliment.”

“Fine.” I smiled. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it.” After another few bites, I said, “Think we can talk about the sidhe?”

“I suppose.” He speared his salad and came up with a stack of multi-hued green leaves and a red tomato at the end of his fork.

“Why does the possibility bother you so much?”

He shrugged. “How would you feel if a bunch of people started saying you’re not human? I know who I am. I know my family. They don’t.”

I hadn’t considered myself to be completely human for a long time, but kept the thought to myself. I swirled my favorite pinot noir in my broad-bowled glass. “Fair enough. I can understand not believing someone like Daniel. But even Maya and Tanu said you have ancient blood. My building’s djinn have no reason to lie. Doesn’t that make you wonder, just a little?”

“You think I should meet with this contact of Daniel’s, don’t you?” Vince asked.

“No. If it doesn’t feel right to you, you shouldn’t do it.” I put my glass back on the table. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious. There’s something special about you, besides your ability to block my magic, which is unusual enough. Even if you don’t see it, I do. I feel it, every time you touch me. And I don’t just mean the spike in my libido. My magic is more responsive and I seem to have better focus when we touch.”

His smile twitched upward. “I spike your libido, do I?”

I rolled my eyes. “You know you do. And you’re changing the subject.”

“I know. It’s a better subject.”

His deep voice rolled over me, but I steeled myself, determined not to get sidetracked. “It’s not just the thing with my magic. You have a way with women. I don’t think you affect me precisely the same way, but I’ve seen how other women react when you’re around. They can’t seem to take their eyes off you, and I’m willing to bet all you’d have to do is crook a finger and they’d come running.”

“So you’re saying I can’t just crook my finger at you and get what I want?” He shot me a wicked smile, eyebrow raised. “What we both want?”

The blatant shift in his demeanor threw me off, which, given his previous standoffishness, set off my alarm bells. I kept my gaze steady, in spite of my cavorting stomach, and replied, “That doesn’t work on me. I’m different. And you know it.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t tell whether he was sincerely flirting or trying to distract me, possibly even using his glamour to do so. “Is that something you’ve grown accustomed to? Crooking your finger?”

His smile promptly faded. “No.”

“It comes with consequences. Doesn’t it? All those jealous, possessive girlfriends.”

He considered me for several beats before nodding almost imperceptibly.

I softened my voice. “And it put you off dating. How long has it been since you saw anyone?”

He shrugged, absently running his fingertips along the edge of his plate. “A while. Something over four years, I guess.”

“I’m sorry. From experience, I know how hard that is. But you don’t have to worry about me. You can crook your finger at me anytime you want.” I smiled and folded my arms along the edge of the table, peering at him. “I’ll come to you because I care about you and think you’re sexy as hell, not because you’ve glamoured me.”

He frowned. “Glamoured. You make it sound like I put on makeup and go out on the hunt. Is that what you think?”

“That’s a good analogy. That’s exactly how the spell is used. But you wouldn’t be sitting here right now if I thought that’s what you’d been doing. I think it happens without your knowledge.”