Heart of the Demon (4 page)

Regardless, it had been a long enough time for her to know the signs. Yet she couldn’t seem to help herself from being jealous.
A sudden wave of light-headedness assailed her, making her sway and reminding her she needed to recharge. She turned away
from the temptation that was Finn and pushed open the door.

As soon as she got outside, she headed to the easement between the sidewalk and the street. Remembering what this strip of
land was called back in Northeast Ohio where she’d lived for a time, she smiled. It seemed appropriate that outside the Devil’s
Domain she’d be standing on the devil strip.

Keira reached it and looked down. The security lighting from the club’s parking lot made it as light as day even out by the
street. The devil strip was gravel, not soft grass like in Ohio, but at least it wasn’t concrete or asphalt like the parking
lot. It also had several clumps of prickly pear cacti growing in it. Any time she could be on a patch of ground where other
living things were also nourished, it provided a stronger surge of nature’s vitality.

She slipped off her shoes and scraped the gravel aside with the edge of one foot then stepped onto the cool packed dirt. Immediately
renewing energy from the Earth and everything it nourished flowed into her, like warm tendrils snaking around her muscles,
curling through her veins. Her fatigue lessened enough so that she felt she’d be able to make it home without passing out.

She put on her shoes and walked to her car. She’d get back to her house and lie down on the patch of grass she had in the
backyard, a small circular area she maintained so she could have a place to literally commune with nature. Sheltered beneath
a mesquite tree, it was a tiny oasis in the dry desert landscape. And she definitely would use it tonight. This little bit
she’d done was only a Band-Aid solution for what she really needed, but she didn’t have time for more. In a little over two
hours she had to meet her contact on the Council of Preternaturals and fill him in on her progress.

K
eira sighed and shifted against the grass. The night air was cool against her bare skin, and with the six-foot-tall privacy
wall that surrounded her backyard, she was assured none of her neighbors would catch the late show she was currently putting
on.

She’d been home less than fifteen minutes, and other than the few seconds it had taken her to shed her clothing, she’d been
out here, lying on her stomach, skin to ground on the small patch of grass she maintained with meticulous grooming and much
care in this desert clime. She’d kept the lights off. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, letting the scent of grass permeate
her. The Earth generously gave of its vitality, filling her with strength and peace.

With another soft sigh she turned onto her back and stared up into the night sky. The moon, slicing a slender crescent in
the star field, peeked at her through the branches of the mesquite tree that grew at the outer edge of this small patch of
grass. During the day the tree gave the grass and the small patio behind her house additional shade. At night it was a welcome
friend, standing as a silent sentinel.

After several more minutes Keira had the healing energy she needed. Getting to her feet, she shrugged into her robe then sauntered
to the house. She glanced at the old carriage clock on the fireplace mantel. Good, she had time for a shower, which she took
in five minutes. After towel drying her hair, she pulled it back into a ponytail then looped it up into a haphazard chignon
at the nape of her neck. She’d thought several times about cutting it, but every time a feeling of dread had stolen over her.
She sensed that having long hair was something that had been very important to her human host, so she’d left it long. But
damn if it wasn’t a pain in the arse to care for.

She debated wearing jeans and a simple T-shirt, but decided that, as good as she felt now, she wanted looser clothing. Instead,
she donned a thin strapped sundress in bold turquoise and slid her feet into bright orange sandals. She slipped her gold cuff
watch over her wrist and gathered up her purse, making sure her cell phone and other essentials were in it, and headed back
out again.

She guided her car south on 101 then went east on State Route 60. After she went through the small town of Apache Junction
she started north on Apache Trail. In the blackness of the desert, her headlights were the only illumination until she reached
a tiny mom-and-pop diner just before the boundary of the Lost Dutchman State Park. She pulled into a parking space and shut
off the engine.

From the outside, the diner looked like it was caught in a time warp with its sleek metal design and neon signage. When she
entered the restaurant a bell above the door jangled, making her smile. It was such a cheery sound. She paused and looked
around, deciding that the place was as fifties on the inside as it was on the outside. The floor was black and white square
tiles, and there were red stools at the counter. The rest of the modest restaurant contained booths with red seat cushions.
She liked it.

“Sit anywhere you want to, hon,” a middle-aged woman in a worn blue-and-white-striped uniform told her from behind the counter.

“I’m meeting someone.” She spotted her companion in a booth at the very back of the diner. “There he is,” she said with a
soft smile at the waitress. She walked back and slid onto the bench opposite Caladh MacLoch, a senior member of the Council
of Preternaturals.

“You’re late,” he muttered. He folded the newspaper he’d been reading and set it to one side. His white shirt was crisply
pressed, as if he’d just picked it up from the cleaners. Lifting a spray bottle, he spritzed his face with water. Caladh was
a selkie—a seal shapeshifter—and hated being in the desert. His term on the regional council wouldn’t be up for several more
years, so he’d learned to adapt as best he could. He’d told her more than once that someday he hoped to finally make it to
San Diego, where he was sure he’d live a long and fulfilled life.

“Sorry. You couldn’t have picked something closer to home?” She pushed the silverware lying on a paper napkin to one side
and leaned her elbows on the table, which was set for two and already had a small bowl of creamer containers sitting in the
middle. “You already ordered?” she asked Caladh.

He gave a nod. “My stomach has been reminding me for a few hours now that we went long in today’s council session. I missed
dinner.”

The waitress approached, and Keira leaned back and gave her another smile. The woman returned it. “You know what you want,
hon?”

“I’ll take a coffee, black.” Keira leaned over to read Caladh’s menu upside down. There wasn’t a huge selection to choose
from, mostly burgers, breakfast dishes, and dessert. Looking back at the waitress, she asked, “How’s the peach pie?”

“Best pie this side of the Superstitions,” came the reply.

“Coffee and a slice of peach pie, then.”

“Ice cream with that?”

“Oh, of course.”

The woman smiled. “You got it.”

Keira waited until the waitress was gone before she asked, “Why on Earth did you pick way out here to meet? I like it, but
it’s like a pimple on God’s arse. It’s to hell and back again to get out here.”

“I think you exaggerate.” Caladh’s grin showed off his small, bright white teeth. “I believe the drive is worth it. The landscape
around here is quite beautiful.”

“I didn’t mean…” She heaved a sigh. “It is beautiful. I only meant it’s not a very convenient place to get to.”

“That would be the point.” He glanced around. “It is quiet, and everyone in here is human.”

“Except us.”

“Except us,” he agreed. “Regardless, the humans should have no interest in our conversation, should any of them chance to
overhear it.”

The waitress returned, and he stopped speaking.

Keira had to hide a smile. Even though he thought no one would have any interest in their discussion, he still wasn’t willing
to talk in front of them. Not that she disagreed. They had to be careful.

The waitress set a plate with a burger and fries in front of Caladh and then flipped over two coffee cups on the table. As
she poured the coffee, she said, “I’ll be right back with your pie.”

“Thanks,” Keira murmured. She and Caladh remained silent until the waitress deposited a big piece of peach decadence topped
by a large scoop of vanilla ice cream in front of Keira and walked away. Keira speared a peach and put it into her mouth,
her eyes briefly drifting closed as the sweet fruity goodness hit her taste buds. Then looking at Caladh, she said, “I think
I’m about to be invited into the group.”

His dark eyes lit up. “Most excellent! I knew my favorite grifter would get the job done.”

“Favorite
former
grifter,” she reminded him. He might not appreciate her effort, but she’d been living a quiet, law-abiding life for decades.
Just one slip in all that time and he’d taken advantage of it.

“Not all that much former.” He broke open a small container of creamer and poured it into his coffee.

She tightened her lips. By Dagda’s balls, how many times would he be throwing that in her face? As long as it suited his purposes,
she acknowledged to herself. Seventy-five years ago she’d found herself on hard times. Partly out of desperation she’d taken
up with a charming confidence man. They’d made good money, enough to get them through several lifetimes, but he’d been a con
artist through and through and had wanted to do one last job. She’d been so much in love with him, she’d agreed. But it had
gone arse over elbows and the mark—the man they’d chosen to swindle—had died. Not by their hands, but certainly because of
their actions. He’d returned to his business earlier than expected, and rather than simply calling the police, he’d given
chase. Keira and her partner had barely made it across a busy street unscathed. Their mark hadn’t been so lucky. He’d been
hit by a car that had tossed him through the air, landing on the pavement where he’d been run over by another vehicle.

To this day she carried the guilt of that like a gaping wound deep in her soul. Caladh had learned about it and now the crafty
old seal used that knowledge to his advantage, pressing her into service free of charge.

Not that she disagreed something needed to be done about this rogue group. Caladh had drawn her aside after the last council
meet-and-greet of new arrivals to Scottsdale, and told her that he’d become aware of the group’s usage of a small device that
opened a mini rift between the dimensions. That was distressing enough. Even more alarming, though, was the fact that by using
the small gadget the group had been communicating with prets in the other dimension, and he didn’t know why. That was the
reason he’d wanted her to infiltrate the rogue group—to find out who the members were and discover their plans. And, if possible,
put a stop to those plans by any means necessary.

In all the jobs she’d pulled, both here and in the other dimension, she’d never killed anyone. When she’d first gotten to
Earth, the tribe she was part of had had several skirmishes with other tribes. She’d killed in self-defense or to protect
her village. She wasn’t naive enough to think she shouldn’t be prepared to kill now. She only hoped it didn’t come to that.

“So,” Caladh said now, “give me the details.”

She told him about the vampire at the club. “The only thing I can do now is wait for his call.”

“That is fine work, Keira. Truly outstanding.” He pointed at her with his fork, a French fry suspended from its tines. “Remember,
though, I am authorizing this investigation on my own. The rest of the council remains unaware of this situation, and until
I know whom I can trust I wish to keep it that way.”

“I understand.” She scooped up a bite of pie. If she got caught, Caladh wouldn’t step in. He couldn’t help her and still maintain
the secrecy that was needed.

He leaned forward and said, “No one else is to know you’re doing this, or that you’re doing it for me. You’re to tell no one,”
he repeated.

“All right.” Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, did he think she was daft? She’d been around a hell of a lot longer than he had. He’d
only been on Earth two hundred and twenty years. She’d been here over three thousand, starting out her new life with a small
Celtic clan from the green hills of present-day County Galway.

As a matter of fact, now that she thought on it, Caladh had come through the rift the same time as Tobias Caine, the newest
vampire member of the council. She wondered if they’d known each other before.

“No one is to learn about this,” Caladh stressed, his dark gaze fixed on her. “And you are to update me in as much detail
as possible.”

“I’ve got it.” She scowled and shoved the last piece of pie into her mouth. “I’m not stupid,” she said after she swallowed.

“No, you’re not. You’re very clever. Possibly one of the most shrewd and cunning people I have ever met.” His liquid black
eyes glittered. “Sometimes, though, a person can be too slick for her own good.”

She let her fork clatter onto her plate. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He swiped his napkin across his lips and leaned back in his seat. One wide hand crumpled the napkin and dropped it onto the
table. “Do not think for a moment that you can use this information to manipulate me.”

“What information? And manipulate you for what purpose?” Keira shook her head. She wasn’t sure where he was headed with this,
but she knew she didn’t like it one bit. Her aggravation showed in her next words. “Just what the feck are ya on about, Mr.
MacLoch?”

He pulled out his wallet and dropped a ten-dollar bill on the table. As he slid out of the booth, he picked up his water bottle
and murmured, “Do not think you can blackmail me into anything by threatening to go to the rest of the council with what you
know.”

She frowned. “I don’t—”

“That’s what grifters do,” he said. “They use situations to their own advantage.” He leaned so close she could smell coffee
on his warm breath. “I know you’re trying to mend your ways, and I do appreciate the effort it takes for a person to change.
I also know how easy it is to slide back into old habits.”

As he walked away she drew in a deep breath and held it a moment, then blew it out slowly from between pursed lips. Caladh
was the damned reason she was “sliding” back into old habits, the old bugger. He always presented himself with an air of affability,
but she’d seen the ruthless side of him that had gotten him where he was on the council. She was under no illusions that she
was working with a friend on this. He was her handler, pure and simple.

If he thought he had to threaten her to keep her on task, he was wrong. Her conscience dictated her actions. She didn’t need
any additional pressure from him.

“Want me to top off your coffee?”

Keira glanced up at the waitress and nodded, watching her pour the hot brew into the cup.

“We’re not busy, hon, so no need to rush.” The waitress put the bill facedown on the table. For the first time Keira noticed
the lines of exhaustion tugging at the woman’s eyes. “And let me know if you want anything else.”

Keira took a sip of coffee and watched the woman go back to the front counter. The waitress put her hand on an older customer’s
shoulder, saying something that made him laugh. She seemed like a kind woman, taking time to cheer up a customer even while
tired. For a moment Keira felt wistful that she couldn’t be more like her. Oh, she could be as nice as the next person, but
it was usually an act. No, more like a persona she slipped on. Random kindness to strangers wasn’t her first inclination.
Her true nature was to look out for herself. As Caladh said, to twist situations to her own advantage.

She had to work at being kind. And she did, but no mistaking, it was
work
. But she knew she didn’t ever want to go back to being the person she was before. This was her second chance, hell, it was
more like her fourth or fifth chance, and she refused to squander it. By helping Caladh, and therefore the council at large,
she would hopefully be scoring some points on the goodness scale.