mission magic 01 - the incubus job (4 page)

It was the worst, though not for the reason he thought. I kept going, more glad than I realized to be finally saying it out loud.

“After we rescued the girls and got Ritter, we did the extermination,” I said. The ghosts had been scared. They were all young—between eighteen and twenty-five years old, most of them right around twenty-one. Ritter liked to snag his victims from college bars and frat parties. They’d be drinking and not paying enough attention. He had a little box truck and would go through several states, gathering up a supply of victims, then take them back to Colorado to work on them. It made it hard to narrow down where to find him since his hunting ground was the entire continental United States.

At the time we did the extermination, I don’t know how many ghosts there were. I did the summoning to call them all together.

“There were so many ghosts,” I said, my throat catching. “Hundreds of them.”

“Two hundred and thirty-nine,” Law said. “All the bodies were in the house. Ritter had used magic to keep the spirits from moving on.” They’d been scared, some clinging to each other. They were overjoyed we’d gotten Ritter.

I could close my eyes and see each and every one. Not every person who dies violently sticks around as a ghost. I’d expected some but not all. Ritter had wanted an audience for his work. Sick fuck.

I was sicker. Me and Law both.

Those women had been torn from their homes and families, tortured for weeks and weeks, then killed. They hadn’t been allowed to move on, and when they were finally going to be freed from Ritter’s hold, we step in and give them final death. Sure, maybe it was a mercy but maybe not. We didn’t bother to ask. We didn’t care. Our job was to exterminate them so they didn’t get loose in the world.

Two hundred thirty-nine ghosts—two hundred thirty-nine women—all slaughtered twice. It took Law and me only about a minute. Ghost extermination is easier than it ought to be.

My throat closed and I looked down at the floor. Guilt swamped me under a tide of black tar. I’d told my ghosts. I had been honest about myself. All the same, I could feel their condemnation permeate my inner shields.

“That’s it?” Law demanded and stomped across the room to stand in front of me. “That’s why you left? Because we exterminated the ghosts?”

He sounded incredulous, like that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. I looked up at him.

“We killed people, Law.”

“Ghosts. Just ghosts.”

“They still think and feel. We just killed them like they were vermin.”

“They’re unnatural. They don’t belong in this world.”

I didn’t tell him we were unnatural. We were killers. Instead I shook my head and stood up. I tried to push by him, but he grabbed my hips, refusing to let me get past.

“You can’t be serious, Mallory. Tell me you didn’t leave me for six fucking years because of some ghosts.”

“If they aren’t natural, then how come they exist?”

“Because somehow the universe’s wires get crossed. Bad shit happens and they hang around even though they shouldn’t.”

“Or maybe they’re supposed to be here, just like we are,” I said. “Maybe killing them is unnatural.”

I held up my hands between us when he started to talk, even though I wanted to melt against his chest. His grip on me was hot and sent prickles of desire into my belly.

“I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but after that, I couldn’t be an exterminator anymore. You know Camden wouldn’t have let me just retire, any more than you would have. So I left because otherwise I was going to kill myself. That’s the truth.”

He stared down at me, his green eyes laser hot. “You are a coward,” he said, thrusting me away from him. “Did it never occur to you that I’d be worried about you? That I’d think you got taken? You should have trusted me.”

Calling me a coward hurt. Maybe more than anything else anybody had ever said to me. Maybe more than leaving him. I’d have to stop the bleeding later. First I had to get rid of Law. “I didn’t hide. If you’d wanted to find me, you could have. As for trusting you?” I snorted. “Yeah, I just told you I was next to suicidal, and you respond to that by calling me a coward. If you’d have done that then, I’d have thrown myself under the first bus I found.”

“I wouldn’t have let you,” he said, as if that changed something. “Anyway, I did find you,” he growled.

I stared.

“I’ve kept track of you all these years. Once I figured out you left of your own free will, I decided to keep my distance. I hoped maybe one day you’d show up and want to talk. But then when you do turn up, it wasn’t for me at all. You didn’t even know I was here, did you?”

His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed to slits. His eyes went flat as a snake’s.

I shook my head. “I’m on a job. I thought you were still with Acadia.”

His mouth twisted. “I left three months after you did.”

“Why?”

“None of your damned business,” he said. “Right? That’s the way you want it now. You’re doing your thing and I’m doing mine. Except you brought a poltergeist into Effrayant, and you’re protecting her. Makes me look bad, Mal. I don’t like to look bad. As for your other business, take it out of the auberge. Effrayant and guests are off limits to you.”

“I’m a guest,” I reminded him. “You can’t prove I had anything to do with a poltergeist, and there’s no other reason to kick me out. Besides, my employer would be very disappointed, and I think Effrayant would regret disappointing him.”

“Ivan DeMarco,” Law said. “You work for him now?”

I wasn’t surprised he knew. Once LeeAnne had spilled the beans that I knew him, he’d have looked up my registration next. Ivan was footing the bill. “I work for a lot of different people. I freelance. Ivan’s one of my clients.”

He looked me over again, his gaze lingering on the scar on my face before moving to the streak in my hair. The white was glaring against the brown. It would have taken a blind man not to see it. “You never got hurt when I had your back. How bad was it?”

Which time? My memory went to the scar on my back, my most recent joust with death. The ghosts saved me. I’d been down in Costa Rica, looking for a kidnapped family, when I got attacked. It was in a village far from anything resembling a doctor. Just when I got the family safe onto the escape boat, I got raked open by a lich’s pet undead puma. The infection wasn’t the sort of thing that could be fought off with antibiotics. There was dark magic in it. The local shaman tried to help, but he didn’t have the chops. Somehow the ghosts sucked it out of me. All I can remember is the attack and falling into a fever. I woke up a month later, completely healed, the scars looking like I’d had them for years.

Law didn’t need to know any of that.

“Bad enough,” I said with a shrug.

“How’s your dad?” he asked, blindsiding me.

I opened my mouth and closed it, swallowing hard. That was a whole other barrel of snakes that I didn’t want to think about. “He died.”

“I know. I went to his funeral. Didn’t see you there.”

“You went to the funeral?” I repeated. “Why?”

“The real question is why didn’t you?”

I didn’t like the not-very-subtle accusation. What the hell did Law know about me and my dad? It was definitely something I’d never talked about.

“It’s not like you knew him,” I said. “Or maybe you just like going to strangers’ funerals. Maybe you’re a closet necrophiliac.”

His mouth thinned and his eyes flared with fury. “Actually I did know him. After you went missing, I went to visit him. He was a nice enough guy. Gruff. Lonely, too. He missed you. He said he regretted your falling out. I thought you’d at least show up to say good-bye to him.” Accusation and rebuke were thick in his voice.

What the hell did he know?

“I am not talking to you about my father,” I said, pushing away. I needed a drink. I grabbed a bottle of bourbon out of the liquor cabinet and poured a couple fingers worth. I drank it one gulp. The burn countered the confusion and hurt twisting through me. This encounter with Law was going places I never dreamed it would, places I was unprepared to visit.

“That’s right,” Law said, following me and pouring himself a scotch. “You don’t talk. You run away.”

“What do you want from me?” I demanded, whirling to face him. “An apology? Fuck you. I’m not sorry. I did what I had to do to save my fucking life, and I’d do it again. Frankly I figured you’d get over it pretty quick. It’s not like you were that into me. You liked me because I was there and willing, and you didn’t have to go pick up some chick from a bar. I was just a convenient bed warmer for you.”

He slammed his glass down. It shattered and scotch splattered over the marble cabinet top. Law grabbed my arms and yanked me up against him. His body felt hard as iron and about as forgiving. The muscles in his jaw knotted, and his eyes blazed.

“You figured I’d get over it pretty quick?” he seethed through gritted teeth. “How could you even imagine that? Even if we weren’t lovers, even if you were just convenient—which you weren’t—we’d been partners for two years. You didn’t think you meant something to me?”

I shook my head. “I thought I was more a pain in your ass.”

“You sure as hell are that.”

I didn’t see the kiss coming. He dragged my up onto my toes. One arm slid behind me, clamping me like a steel bar. His other hand wrapped the back of my head, keeping me from pulling away. Not that I was going anywhere.

His lips seared mine, more gentle than I expected. He teased my mouth open more delicately. His tongue delved inside my mouth. I’d forgotten how good he tasted. I’d forgotten the way he kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and the way his touch made my skin buzz with electricity. I’d walked away from this. I was a fool. No, I was a survivor.

I slid my hands around his waist and pulled myself closer. He groaned and deepened the kiss. The sound rumbled through his chest and through me. Fireflies spun through my chest. He wanted me. He wanted me.

I’m not sure how long we stood there. Too long. Not nearly long enough. I wanted to rip off his clothes and mine and touch skin to skin. I felt like we were going to burst into flames, and I was more than willing. By the time he pulled away, I could barely stand. I held on to him to keep from sinking to the floor.

“Do you still think you don’t matter to me?” he asked hoarsely, his eyes scouring my face.

The intensity of his gaze wouldn’t let me look away. It wouldn’t let me lie.

“I don’t know what I think,” I said. “I don’t understand.”

His eyes closed and he tipped his head back. “Fucking hell, woman. I never pegged you for stupid.”

“Funny, I always pegged you for an ass. Seems I was right.”

He snorted and ran his hand over my hair. It was a pixie cut. I’d chopped it all off after I left him. More convenient that way, and I didn’t have to remember how it felt when he combed his fingers through it every time we were in bed together.

“You cut it,” he said, his fingers tracing the white line of the scar.

I was happy the hair had grown back over the scar at all. “It’s easier to take care of.”

“It’s pretty.”

“You’re lying,” I said. “You don’t like it.”

“True,” he said. “Are you going to tell me about the poltergeist and what you’re doing here?”

The warmth of his touch drained away. I’d forgotten how he liked to lull me into happy calmness before blindsiding me with questions or arguments. He might have left the job, but the job hadn’t left him.

I drew a breath and stepped back, putting distance between us. I couldn’t talk business in his arms. I could barely breathe in his arms. This ability to abruptly shift gears is what made me doubt his feelings for me in the first place. He turned his passion off so easily, it didn’t seem like it could be real.

“What do you want to know?” I asked warily, pouring another drink.

When he didn’t answer, I looked at him. He was watching me.

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?” I asked, confused.

“That thing you just did. You went from hot and bothered to ‘closed for season’ like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“You should talk. One minute your tongue is down my throat, and the next, you’re grilling me about Tabitha and my job. Is it any wonder I lost the mood?” I meant the words to be light, but they came out with more than a little bitterness. Old hurts die slow deaths. Mine were still pretty damned healthy.

His face worked. “Sorry.”

I wanted to ask what he was sorry for, but I was afraid of the answer.

“What do you want to know?”

He stroked his hand over his beard as he considered me. I began to twitch as the seconds ticked past.

“I want to know about the poltergeist. I want to know about the job. I want to know what happened with your dad and I want to know what I have to do to get you back.”

Chapter 3

“Get me back?” I repeated. “I don’t do exterminator work anymore. I told you that.”

“I don’t just want my partner back,” he said, his glare daring me to refuse him. “I want you. In my life. In my bed.”

I was speechless. I wanted to check my ears to make sure they were working, but under the category of things that were impossible, this had always topped my list, above pigs flying and dogs mowing lawns. He waited for me to say something, his broad shoulders set, his hands jammed into his pockets. I could see the outlines of his fists through the fabric of his pants.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Can’t I?” he said, his gaze lasering through me. He looked determined. More than that. Dogged. Relentless. Like come hell or high water, he wasn’t going to lose this fight.

Sudden foreboding swept over me, and every hair on my body prickled. My mouth went dry as adrenaline slammed my system.

The ghosts were scared of my answer. So was I.

Just then a knock sounded at the door. Saved by the bell. I stood. Law watched me. I could feel him seething, could almost hear his thoughts. I was running away again, hiding behind a knock at the door instead of facing him. It was true. It was also a lot more complicated than he knew. If he and I were together on any level, I couldn’t keep the ghosts. They’d never feel safe. That bothered me more than I can say. I’d given them my protection, a home. They’d saved my life. I had a responsibility for them. I couldn’t just kick them to the curb.