Kissed by Smoke (4 page)

“You okay?” Concern flashed in Inigo’s blue
eyes. I could see little flecks of gold dancing in his irises. The
Dragon half of him was close to the surface.

I snorted. “Yeah, fabulous. I am now
indebted to the Fairy Queen all because of some stupid key. Happy
birthday to me.”

“Yeah, she kind of stole my thunder.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He pulled a small box from inside his jacket
and placed it in my hand. It wasn’t Tiffany’s blue, but my heart
still stuttered to a stop before suddenly kicking into
overdrive.

“Uh, what’s this?” I glared at the box like
it might bite me. I really hoped it wasn’t what I thought it
was.

“Open it.”

“Listen, Inigo … ”

“Open it.”

I opened it. What I saw took my breath
away.

It was a ring, but not some stupid diamond
engagement one, thank the gods. Strands of intricately wrought
silver twisted and turned, the Celtic knots forming a perfect
Dragon.

“It’s beautiful.” I could hardly breathe.
Terror and excitement warred inside me. Did this mean Inigo wanted
some kind of commitment? I’d never done well with commitment. Or
rather, it had never done well with me. It seemed that every time I
gave my heart, it got stomped to pieces and thrown back in my face.
Kind of made me a bit skittish.

He took the ring from the box and slid it
onto my finger. My right middle finger. Suddenly I could breathe
easier.

“I thought it suited you,” he smiled. “And I
figured as long as you wore it you’d never forget me.”

I laughed at that. Inigo was probably the
least forgettable person I’d ever met.

“Happy birthday, Morgan.” His lips were warm
and tasted of chocolate and campfires. One of my favorite things
about him being dragon.

He drew back and gave me a slightly
lecherous wink. “Take me home with you and I’ll give you the rest
of your present.”

I grinned and fired up the engine. I’m
pretty sure I broke every speed zone in the city.

***

The next morning saw us hitting Highway 26
headed toward Warm Springs. The town was a little over an hour
away, and I wanted to get there in plenty of time.

Halfway up the mountain I had to stop and
put chains on the tires. The snow plows had been through, but it
was still the law. One good thing about having a boyfriend who was
half dragon: He could bench press a Mustang. Inigo had the chains
on in a fraction of the time it would have taken me.

The highway twisted itself up around Mt.
Hood, through a forest of fir trees and frozen creeks until it
finally spilled out onto the high desert. We were on tribal lands.
Excitement thrummed in my veins. Ever since I was a kid I’d been
fascinated by the rich culture of the Native American people,
especially the Oregon tribes.

Might have had something to do with my uncle
having been a cop on the Reservation. Or maybe it was just my own
interest in history.

My phone jangled, jarring me back to the
present. Which was probably a good thing, seeing as how I was
driving. “Who is it?”

Inigo snagged my phone out of the cupholder
where I’d stashed it and glanced at the screen. “Jack.”

“Crap.” I searched Inigo’s face for any hint
of jealousy, but there was none. I guess 400 years gave a person
some perspective.

I pulled the Mustang to the side of the road
and hit the call button. No doubt Inigo would be able to hear the
entire conversation anyway, but holding the cell to my ear made me
at least feel like I had some privacy. “What do you want, Jack? I’m
wearing the amulet.”

“I just spoke to Kabita. She said you’re
headed to Warm Springs?”

“Yeah. So?” I barely refrained from rolling
my eyes. I was doing way too much of that lately.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“You’re my Guardian, Jack, not my Dad.”

“Yes, I’m your Guardian,” his voice turned
testy. “You should remember that more often. As your Guardian I’m
telling you not to go to Warm Springs.”

I did roll my eyes then. “Oh, for crying out
loud.”

“It’s not safe, Morgan. What you find there
will put your life in danger. You need to turn around and come back
to Portland.”

Like anything in my life was safe these
days. “Get a grip, Jack. I’m meeting my brother. I’ve got a job to
do.” With that, I hung up the phone.

Inigo raised an eyebrow. “What’s his
problem?”

I shrugged. “He’s being his usual
overprotective self. You’d think I was some kind of helpless
twit.”

He laughed. “You are a lot of things,
Morgan, but a helpless twit isn’t one of them. Jack knows
that.”

“Well, he sure doesn’t act like it.” I
managed to keep the snarl out of my voice. Just. “He kept going on
about how it wasn’t safe. That whatever I find in Warm Springs is
going to put me in danger. Ridiculous.” Besides, it wasn’t like my
life was exactly safe in the best of times.

Inigo frowned. “Did he say why?”

I shook my head. “Are you getting some kind
of vibe or something?”

“No, but Jack’s not exactly the overly
emotional type. If he says something is dangerous, there’s likely a
good reason for it.”

“Fine, take his side,” I grumped as I pulled
the car back onto the highway.

“I’m not taking his side.” There was
laughter in Inigo’s voice. “It’s just not a bad idea to exercise a
little caution.”

“I’m full of caution.”

This time the laughter was full blown.

***

We arrived at the cafe a good hour before
the meeting time, which was fine with me. Thanks to my worry about
the meeting with Trevor and my hurry to get to the cafe, I’d missed
lunch. My stomach was letting me know about it.

“Come on. I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.” Inigo smirked at me,
but followed me into the cafe.

Warm Springs Cafe was a dinky little hole in
the wall. I’d never been there before, but in my experience, such
places survive because the food is cheap and damn good. I figured
this place was no exception.

I was right.

The waitress brought us plates piled high
with food. I dug into my pancakes with gusto. They were divine.

“I can’t believe you’re eating
pancakes.”

“Uh, yeah,” I managed to mumble around a
mouthful of syrupy goodness.

“It’s lunchtime.”

“So? Pancakes are not a breakfast food,
they’re an anytime food.”

He shook his head and bit into his corned
beef sandwich. I had to admit his lunch looked really good, but I
was happy with my pancakes.

“Morgan.”

I froze, a forkful of pancake halfway to my
mouth. “Trevor? You okay?” He looked rough. There were dark circles
under his chocolate brown eyes and his usually warm latte skin was
almost ashen.

He slid into the booth beside me. “I’m fine.
You got my text?”

“Of course. That’s why I’m here. Though I’m
not sure why all the mysteriousness. You didn’t think to, I don’t
know, pick up a phone and call me like a normal person?”

He glanced around as though to make sure no
one else was listening, then beckoned us both to lean in closer. He
was clearly nervous, which was weird. I hadn’t known my
half-brother long, but Trevor Daly had nerves of steel from what
I’d seen. It was sort of par-for-the-course for federal agents.

“This is strictly on the down low. I’ve been
ordered to keep things under the radar. No one can know we’re
working on this.”

“On what, exactly?” I took another bite of
pancake. I didn’t know who the cook was, but he or she deserved a
gold medal. The pancakes were seriously to die for.

“Two days ago an agent named Daniel Vega was
found dead in his hotel room, in Madras.” His voice was hardly
above a whisper. Fortunately both Inigo and I had excellent
hearing.

“Madras as in the little town just down the
road?” Inigo asked.

“Yeah, that Madras.” Trevor gave the
waitress a charming smile as she brought him a cup of coffee. The
woman was twice his age, but I swear she blushed like a
teenager.

I waited until the waitress left before
asking the question burning in my brain. “What on earth was an SRA
agent doing in Madras?”

The Supernatural Regulatory Agency kept
itself well hidden within the Environmental Protection Agency. They
had limited manpower and weren’t in the habit of sending agents to
Podunk towns like Madras. That’s why they kept people like me
around. We got to do the dirty work, and they didn’t have the
expense of sending an agent.

“That’s the thing.” Trevor leaned in closer.
“I don’t know. He wasn’t there on official business and he doesn’t
have any friends or family nearby.”

Weird. But not that weird. People visited
places for all kinds of reasons. “Okay, so how did he die?”

“The police are claiming it was
suicide.”

Inigo and I exchanged a look. “Ah. You don’t
think it was.” I kept my eyes on my brother’s face. I could see his
jaw working.

“I know it wasn’t suicide. I just can’t
prove it.”

“I get that he’s a brother-in-arms and all
that, but why don’t you let the agency handle this?” I suggested.
“He’s their agent. What’s this got to do with you?”

Trevor’s face hardened. “Daniel was my
friend. I’m not about to let them sweep his murder under the
rug.”

“Whoa,” Inigo spoke up. “What do you mean?
Are you suggesting the SRA wouldn’t thoroughly investigate the
death of one of their agents?”

Trevor’s expression was bleak. “I’m afraid
so. They want this kept very quiet. So, they’re willing to let me
investigate as long as I don’t make any waves.”

“You’re sure?” I hoped he was wrong. I
really did. I didn’t like the idea that the agency wouldn’t come in
guns blazing to solve Vega’s murder, but then again, I should know
better. Like I said, the SRA didn’t like dirtying its hands.

He shrugged. “Sure as I can be. That’s why I
need your help, Morgan. There’s something really weird going on and
the agency is keeping quiet about it.”

I was getting a really bad feeling. “Weird?
What kind of weird.”

“Your kind of weird,” Trevor said.

Which meant supernatural wonkiness of the
scary kind. “I still don’t get why you couldn’t pick up a freaking
phone and call me like a normal person. I mean, if the agency is
willing to let you investigate quietly, what’s the big deal? You
could have just asked to meet me over the phone.”

He shook his head. “There’s something really
strange going on. I don’t know who I can trust and who I can’t.
Face-to-face was the safest way.” He gave me a knowing look. “And
you can’t talk back to a text.”

He knew me far too well.

“I need your help Morgan. Please. I need to
know the truth. I owe Daniel that much.”

Six months ago I hadn’t even known Trevor
Daly existed. Now he was begging me for favors that could get me
thrown down a deep dark hole of nasty. But he was my brother. I
couldn’t say no.

I sighed. I had no idea what I was about to
get myself involved in, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t anything
good. Freaking fantastic. “Show me the crime scene.”

Madras was a short drive up the canyon from
Warm Springs. It was the closest major town near the Reservation.
And by “major” I mean about six thousand people, give or take. I
loved that this tiny little down in the middle of nowhere had been
named after the exotic Indian city. Who knew they were so
cosmopolitan back in 1903?

I loved the early twentieth-century
buildings that lined the main street downtown. It gave the town
atmosphere. Still, the fact was, it was a nowhere town. What on
earth had Daniel Vega been doing here?

It wasn’t like Madras was a hot bed of
supernatural activity. I’d have known if it was.

We followed Trevor’s car to a small run-down
motel on the other side of town. He pulled into the gravel parking
lot and stopped in front of the door marked with a rusted number
five.

“You’d think they’d pay their agents
better,” Inigo said with a nod toward the peeling paint and dirty
windows. “There’s not much to choose from in this town, but there
are better hotels, all of them cheap. Why choose the crummiest
motel? This is barely a step above a pay-by-hour.”

“No idea, but I’m probably going to get
cooties just from looking at it.” I shuddered.

That made him laugh. His eyes crinkled a
little at the corners and a dimple flashed in his cheek. I loved
when he laughed. It was so ridiculously sexy.

He leaned over and brushed his lips over
mine.

“What was that for?” Not that I was
complaining, mind you.

He smiled. “You had that look.”

“What look?”

“That gooey look that says you adore me.” He
winked.

I rolled my eyes. “Arrogant prat.”

There was a rap on the window. “Are you two
coming? Or are you just going to sit in there and make out?” Trevor
was obviously getting antsy.

“We’re coming. We’re coming. Sheez. Hold
your horses.”

The inside of Daniel Vega’s hotel room
wasn’t any better than the outside. The carpet was worn down to the
nub and I really didn’t want to think about the stains on the
bedspread.

“Where did they find him?” Inigo asked.

“In the bathroom. They said he’d slit his
wrists.”

I peered into the tiny bathroom. Odd place
to slit your wrists. There was no tub, just a rather dirty shower
stall. There wasn’t even enough room on the floor to lie down.

“Why would he slit his wrists in here? Why
not on the bed?” I frowned and glanced back at the bed. Not that it
was a better place to die. “Why slit his wrists at all? Was there a
note?”

“No note.” Trevor shook his head. “And
they’d cleaned up before I got here. I did see the crime photos and
they didn’t look quite right.”

I glanced at him. “What do you mean?”