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Authors: Jean Brashear

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BOOK: So Tempting
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Chapter Thirteen

She wanted him to be here.

She hoped to hell he wasn't.

Jace stood in the doorway of The Club's newest location, Halliday at her side.

"Cardozo's gonna shit when I tell him about this outfit," Halliday spoke next to her ear so she could hear him, his gaze traveling down the short red spandex halter dress.

"
You're
gonna die if you do," Jace warned.

He flashed a grin filled with mischief. "Oh, yeah? How can we settle this, Jace? Hand-to-hand combat?"

She poked him in the ribs. "I've whipped guys bigger than you."

"Probably because you flashed those legs, and they went blind." He laughed, dodging her elbow again.

"Shut up, Halliday. Let's get to work, but remember what I told you about the smoke. Take frequent breaks and stay away from where it's thickest."

"Yes, Mom." He flashed her a grin and grabbed her hand and made for the dance floor. "One dance first."

"I'm serious, Halliday."

"I know, I know."

But he didn't know. Couldn't. As she danced with him, her gaze scanned the crowd and she wished she could forget the threat of Dante. Some of the faces, even masked, were becoming familiar to her by now; she'd try to talk to some of them about the girl, Sarah Brown. See if anyone remembered her.

When the music segued, she waved goodbye to Halliday, crossing the floor to see what attention she could attract. Somebody in this place was bound to have seen Sarah Brown.

She danced with several partners, the task of avoiding groping hands and brushing bodies occupying her nearly enough to forget for brief stretches to look for Dante.

She should be glad—she
was
glad he didn't seem to be here. Neither was Cassandra, it appeared, though someone so tiny would be hard to spot in this madhouse. Jimmy was nowhere to be found, either.

Someone moved in too close, and Jace glanced up with a ready retort.

Her friend from the first visit, the blond man, smiled at her.
Hi there,
he mouthed.

Jace seldom blushed, but embarrassment surged through her body at the thought that it could have been his hands on her that first night, whatever she'd imagined. She forced a smile.
Hi
, she mouthed.

They danced together, him very close but making no move on her. The heat was overpowering, and Jace began to feel dizzy.

Want something to drink?

Sure.
She'd get a bottled water, the contents of which she could monitor. He was as good a place as any to start asking questions.

Grasping her hand, he led her off the floor. He looked surprised when she wanted only water but didn't complain. She watched carefully to see that the bartender took it out of a cooler, gesturing that she would open it herself.

Her companion glanced down. "You're very cautious." The music was still loud over here, but she could hear him.

She shrugged and broke the seal, lifted the bottle to her lips and swallowed several long pulls. Sighing, she wiped one hand across her sweating forehead. "Pays to be careful. That girl was here, I heard. The one who died."

"Yeah, I saw the news on TV."

"You ever notice her?"

He pushed out his lower lip as if thinking hard. "Not that I can recall."

"You must come here a lot."

One shoulder lifted. "I guess so. You?"

She didn't want to discuss her own visits. "Not so much." To change the subject, she went on. "Surprising number of kids. Isn't that a little dangerous?"

"Why?"

"Well, I mean, this isn't exactly the most wholesome place. A young girl could get into trouble."

"They aren't as young as they seem. They know what they're doing." Something in his smile chilled her. "They're reclaiming their power."

Jace went rigid. "What did you say?"

"They're claiming their power as women. Women have their own might, you know." His words showed respect, maybe even admiration. His tone indicated something very different.

She made a stab in the dark. "Goddesses and priestesses...they've been around as long as mankind has told stories."

His head moved almost negligently in her direction, but his eyes could have sliced her to the bone. His voice, however, was neutral. "You're interested in priestesses?"

"I heard of a religion once where the priestess initiated the young men of the tribe. Led them to the Light, I think they called it." She observed him carefully for any sign of recognition.

His eyebrows rose. "Hmm...sounds interesting. Exactly how did she do this initiation?" Leaning in, he placed one hand at her back.

Jace forced herself not to react, not to tell the creep to get lost. "There seems only one way to make it truly a powerful experience."

He pulled her closer, his erection unmistakable. "You're interested in powerful experiences?"

"I'm intrigued by more than sweaty sex."

The gleam that flared was not simple lust. The hairs on Jace's neck rose.

"There is much I could show you, if you're interested."

"Oh, I am," she all but purred. His gaze turned avid.

"Could we go now?" Jace asked.

His eyes went cold. "You do not understand."

"Then help me."

"I don't believe you're serious. I don't waste my power on someone frivolous." He scanned the room, then dismissed her. "Excuse me, please. I see someone over there—"

"Wait." Jace grabbed his arm.

With barely leashed contempt, he dislodged her. "You're no different than most of
them
." He nodded at the crowd.

"I am, I can prove it." She couldn't let him get away. "Look, let me meet you someplace where we can talk without all this noise." When he remained skeptical, she adopted an air of penitence. "I do care about what you're saying. I—I'm sorry if I offended you. I didn't meant to."

"I don't know. Give me your phone number and perhaps I'll call you." Superiority rang through his every word.

He wouldn't call.

"Listen, I don't have a phone yet. I'm new in town, and I'm saving up money. Leave me a note at that place, Hearts...something."

"Hearts Speak True," he supplied.

"That's it! You know it?"

"I go there from time to time."

"Leave me a note on that bulletin board, giving me a time and place we can meet."

"What's your name?"

She hesitated only an instant. "Justine. What's yours?"

"Simon." He scanned the crowd, edged away.

She put out a hand, watched his expression change. Jace held on. "I really mean it, Simon. I want to know more. Please teach me."

"Perhaps. I have to go." Setting his glass down, he disappeared into the crowd.

Jace watched him leave, her scalp crawling. She'd ask around about him. There was definitely something off with this one.

Two hours later, dizzy and head pounding even with frequent breaks, Jace sought out Halliday, ready to depart. She hoped he'd found out more. Despite her best attempts, she'd learned next to nothing about this guy Simon or Sarah Brown.

But the night hadn't been totally wasted; this Simon had Jace's hunches itching like crazy. She wished the masks weren't part of the scene, but she'd remember what she'd seen of his face and she'd keep looking. Santa Fe wasn't so big.

And maybe he'd come through and leave a note at Myra's. Despite the lack of concrete results, she thought she'd just found a way to track down Jimmy's cult.

She only hoped it wasn't too late for either Cassandra or Jimmy.

* * *

Jimmy Carroll leaned against the building across the street from tonight's venue of The Club, his vision blurred, stomach rebelling at the cheap whiskey he'd drunk. Two days spent searching for Cassie, to no avail. Two days wasted in useless wondering how to get himself out of this trap over Sam's death.

With bleary eyes he watched people enter and exit, hoping he was here for no reason, that Jace had found Cassie and she'd heeded his warning. If only he knew Cassie would be safe, he'd split town right now and never look back.

Just what Jace would expect of you. What you've always resorted to before—run when the going gets tough.

Not this time. Drunk as he was, the liquor had not dimmed his understanding of what he'd done. He hadn't killed Sam, but he'd damn sure introduced Cassie to the dark underbelly of life. He could try to tell himself that she'd been so determined, she'd have found her way in here whether he helped or not—but he knew different. Another time, she might never have attracted the eye of the Keeper. If he hadn't brought her here when he did, she could have had one night of fun and been satisfied to leave it at that.

No, Cassie was his responsibility. He'd walked away from it often enough in his life—Jace had always been there to handle things, so he'd been superfluous.

But this was squarely his mess to clean up. He was tired and hungry and weary to his soul, but as soon as he was sure Cassie wasn't in The Club tonight, he'd resume looking for her again.

Maybe he'd even call Jace.

Jace
. Suddenly he saw her and straightened. She was here. Coming out of The Club with some guy.

Jimmy retreated into the shadows. He could walk right over and talk to her, and maybe she'd...

He was drunk. To know he was drinking would hurt Jace more than anything. After all they'd suffered at the hands of their mother, he couldn't let Jace see him this way. As he shrank deeper into the darkness, a movement in the doorway of the club caught his eye.

The Keeper.
Watching Jace. Staring at her receding back, the lines of his body revealing his true nature, not the façade most people saw.

He'd told Jimmy he knew who Jace was. He could hurt her, too, and he would. Sure, she was a cop, and probably a very good one. Jace never did things by halves.

But his sister was fair, and the Keeper was pure evil. Still, she'd been around.

Cassie hadn't. Strong-willed, adventuresome Cassie was far too innocent to understand her danger.

When the Keeper left in a different direction, Jimmy followed. If he couldn't warn Jace or locate Cassie, he could at least keep an eye on the man who would do them both harm.

* * *

Jimmy could barely see to stay on the road, but he squinted intently, determined to follow Simon to his destination. When the other man's car pulled behind one of the larger old homes near downtown, Jimmy stopped on the street, noticing too late how crookedly he'd parked.

Never mind. Have to find Cassie. Got to make Simon leave her alone.

He stumbled, crossing the driveway in the darkness. Leaning heavily against the back corner of the house, Jimmy glanced around the corner to spot the Keeper ascending a set of stairs to a garage apartment.

Was she in there? Should he leave and get Jace?

No, man, what are you gonna tell her? You don't know if Cassie's here. She could be anywhere. Go up the stairs and find out.

Grasping the banister with both hands, squeezing his eyes shut, then opening to clear them, Jimmy lurched upward, biting back a groan when his shin hit the sharp edge of one step.

The doorway at the top was open, the screen moving outward. A figure appeared in the spill of light on the landing.

"What are you doing here?" Menace mingled with contempt.

"Cassie...where is she? Leave her alone." Jimmy blinked again, swaying.

"She's not here, you fool. Go home and sleep it off."

"Can't—got to find her. Warned Jace to keep her away from you, but she might not be in time," he muttered. The ground below seemed to spin. He grasped the banister for support.

"You did what?" Simon moved down to stand before him.

"Won't let you get away with it. She's...virgin. Can't let you hurt her...my fault." Simon's face blurred; Jimmy blinked. He looked bigger, arms reaching out toward him.

"What makes you think I want to hurt her?" The soft, dangerous voice barely reached Jimmy's ears.

"Heard you...Priestess. Can't let you hurt her...know you want to blame me for Sam. You did it, though, didn't you?" His knees felt soft...too weak to hold him. "Maybe Jace—"

"You told your sister?"

Jimmy shook his head. Wish he had, but Jace—would she believe him? "Fucked up...got to fix it before tell her—"

He swayed. Simon steadied him. Jimmy looked up, head spinning. "Thanks."

Simon's face loomed before him. "So exactly what did you tell your sister about me?"

Simon's fingers felt too tight. Jimmy shrugged, trying to dislodge them. "Nothing," he hedged. "Just...warn Cassie to stay away from Club."

"Nothing more?" His tone turned silken.

"Not...yet. Got to find Cassie first...then talk to Jace. She'll help me..." he mumbled. Tried to focus on Simon's green eyes. "I'm leaving...soon as Cassie's safe. No more Light...no True Path. You're evil, Simon." His body folded; he struggled for balance, gripped Simon's arm. "Tell me where Cassie is, Keeper. Let her go."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Jimmy." He smiled sorrowfully, removing Jimmy's grip from his arm.

Then pushed at the center of Jimmy's chest.

And watched him tumble all the way to the ground. 

Chapter Fourteen

Hands on her body, stroking...every warm caress drew longing straight up from her belly. Heat sizzled along nerve paths springing to life.

A deep voice murmured in her ear...the soft tip of a tongue slid along the outer curve.

Jace shivered, her nipples rising as her body longed to rise to his.

"Dante..." she moaned. Molasses-thick desire flowed in her veins.

The movements stilled. She arched, seeking the touch, struggled to open eyelids too heavy to lift. Suspended... Waiting...

The sheet descended by inches and night's breeze whispered over her skin. Hair feathered her inner thighs...strong hands parted them...thumbs separated moist lips.

She whimpered. Tossed her head, side to side.

His tongue a slick stroke through the valley...tantalizing swirls...agonizing flicks over starved flesh....

Then...nothing.

Jace stopped breathing. "Damn you." She yearned to touch him, to push him away—

To drag him against her...and feed. She reared to grab him, to demand—

Her wrists were bound.

Fury flared. Danger prickled.

Then...a raw whisper. "You are mine. No one else can have you."

Suddenly, his mouth on her breast. Her back bowed. She locked her thighs and rode the hot wind of screaming, shaking need.

Fire danced on her skin.

Sweet torture. Excruciating, beautiful anguish. Need refined to a single, singing white tone deafening her to all else...

She went spinning out into midnight as stars burst around her, then—

Gone. Nothing, only silence, deep and still and frightening. Masked faces...dark draperies...pale flesh against obsidian stone...a tall figure in black robes turning her way...eyes picking her out of hiding—

Jace jolted awake. Stared with eyes unbound at hands suddenly free—

In the suffocating black, she tried to understand what had happened as adrenaline burned through her like acid.

No one was here. She was alone.

A dream. Just a dream.

Jace tucked her knees under her chin and huddled. Shivered.

And realized she was naked.

Darted a glance to the covers to see if she'd thrown off her t-shirt—

A spot on her pillow caught her eye.

Somehow she already knew what it was.

With trembling fingers, she used a tissue to lift the amulet toward the shaft of moonlight crossing her bed, the paper beneath it crackling.

Metal. Cheap stone in the center. Odd markings. Braided edge.

Like the one left with Sarah Brown. Jace gasped, recalling now where she'd seen the design before, only bigger.

Dante's library.

Carefully, she tilted the note open with one fingernail.

LEAVE THE MAGOS ALONE.

Pounding heart...pounding head... It was a minute before she realized someone was beating on her front door. Jace glanced at the clock.

Five a.m.

Jace set down the amulet, grabbed her weapon. And then her robe.

Without turning on a light, she edged toward the sound and glanced out front.

Earl's car? What would he be doing here?

"Jace, wake up. It's Gabriel."

Gabriel? She shook her head. The transition from dream to real world was too abrupt.

The thuds started again. "Come on, Jace. Open up," Earl called out.

Jace lowered her weapon and unlocked the door. "What's wrong?"

Gabriel moved inside first, vivid blue eyes soft with concern. He glanced at her pistol. "You all right?"

Jace ran fingers through her hair and yawned. "You tell me. What are you doing here at this hour? And why are you with Earl?"

"I asked him to come," Earl said. "I thought it would help." The minute he entered, face lined with sorrow, she understood that the news was bad. She'd been on the other end of these visits before.

Gabriel clasped her arm. "Come sit down, Jace."

Oh, God. She shook him off. "It's Jimmy, isn't it?" She sought Earl's confirmation. "He's dead."

Earl nodded. "I'm sorry, kid. He was found in a vacant lot."

Desperate to put some distance between herself and the news, Jace wrapped her arms around her middle.

Gabriel removed the weapon from her suddenly limp hand and placed it on the coffee table. "Please sit, Jace," he urged.

"I don't want to," she snapped, and the shaking begin. Oh, Christ, what had he gotten into? She addressed Earl, ignoring Gabriel. "I'll get dressed. I want to see him."

"Jace, you don't have to do that."

She whirled on Gabriel, welcoming the target for the nasty mess roiling inside her. "Don't coddle me. I won't break." She turned to leave, then realized she didn't know. "How?" Earl would understand the question.

"Looks like a broken neck." His voice softened. "He smells like a distillery, Jace. Could have fallen when he was drunk." His tone said otherwise.

"In a vacant lot? What aren't you telling me?"

Earl lifted sorrowful eyes to hers. "There was something in his hand. An amulet."

Jace sucked in a breath. "The same one as the girl?"

"Seems to be."

"Give me a minute." She entered her room and closed the door. As she pulled out clothes, concentrating on the mundane so she wouldn't start screaming, she heard a gentle tap.

"I'm coming in." Gabriel.

Before she could say no, he was inside, eyes dark with concern. "I'll be here for you, whatever you need."

She couldn't respond. Too much rushed at her...while she'd been having erotic dreams, her brother was dying. But were they dreams? The amulet on her pillow, the note—what did they mean? Who had placed them there?

Oh, God.
Jimmy's dead...Jimmy's dead...
Laughing hazel eyes gone vacant...she hadn't protected him, hadn't seen the danger in time.

The Club.

The Priestess.

Dante.

She would force Dante to talk. She'd interrogate his staff, check his phone records, dig into his life, make his existence hell until he cracked and told her how he fit into this puzzle. No more remoteness, no more polite brush-offs when she knew—she
knew

What did she really have for proof?

Nothing.

But she would.

"Jace?" Gabriel drew her against him, his tone tender.

She recoiled. "Gabriel," she said in her most polite tone, "if you don't mind, I—I can't talk about it now."

Hurt and confusion on his face. He turned her loose, then spotted the amulet where she'd left it.

"Where did you get that?"

"It—it was on my pillow when I woke up."

"With another note?"

She frowned. "Earl told you?"

"Yeah. Why the hell didn't you? What's this one say?" He used the tip of a pen to open it. When he read it, he frowned. "What's the
Magos
?"

"I'm not sure." Jace rubbed her forehead, grasping for dream fragments.

"Damn it, Jace, you're acting weird. What's going on?"

"I don't know," she whispered. When he approached, she leaned against him, suddenly so tired, grateful for the support. "Gabriel, I've seen that design before."

"On the girl?"

She shook her head. "At Dante Sabanne's."

"At the party? Is that why you—" He fell quiet, but she was sure he was thinking about the last night they'd been together...how she'd turned cold in his arms.

"No," she whispered. "Before." She began to tremble.

His eyes narrowed. "You were like this that night, scared and pale. Has he threatened you?"

"No, he—" She stopped. She pushed away, grabbed the bedpost for support. Whatever strange connection she had with Dante would sound insane if she tried to explain it. Hell, she didn't understand it herself.

"That's it. We're picking him up for questioning."

"No!" Jace lunged to stop him. She'd lose her chance once Dante got into the system.
Jimmy's dead...Jimmy's dead...
the chant continued.

She managed to calm her voice. "We don't have anything on him. It's too early to alert him."

He wasn't convinced. "It was that night that you turned away from me. You saw him and went pale as a ghost. You told me you'd only interviewed him." He gasped. "Are you involved with Sabanne, Jace? Is that what's happening?"

"No!" She shook her head desperately. She wasn't. She couldn't be. "I just..."

Christ. She had to think.
Jimmy's dead...
"It's my brother out there dead, Gabriel. I don't want to blow this case. All we have are bits and pieces. If we move on him now, we'll never catch him. He's too smart, too elusive."

"What aren't you telling me?"

What would Dante reveal about her, about what had happened between them? If he got swallowed up in the system now, she'd never be sure what had come over her, how she could have been so blinded, so out of control.

How she'd stepped off that razor's edge.

On the wrong side.

Jimmy's dead...my fault, my fault...

Whatever was going on, she knew who was really responsible for Jimmy's death.

She was. She'd grown tired, lost patience, had made him feel he couldn't come to her again.

"Jace?"

She couldn't talk yet to Gabriel or Earl about what had happened at The Club. About those weird dreams. They'd really freak if she mentioned dropping into the chasm of insanity, where she spun in the darkness, where stars laid a trail and ribbons of colors...

Had she really heard singing?

Oh, dear God. What—she had to buy some time. "After I see Jimmy, I'll come back and clean up, make the arrangements. Then we can schedule a meeting, you and Earl and I. Go over what I've got, what Earl's found out." Seeing doubt still there, she pressed ahead. "I want whoever killed him. Let's do it right."

Slowly, he nodded, his reluctance clear. "Okay. But you will tell me everything this time. Do not hold anything back."

Jace busied herself gathering up her clothes.

"I mean it, Jace." He laid one hand on her shoulder, but she didn't turn. "I'll be outside."

The door closed softly.

Jace rubbed at eyes dry with pain. In measured steps, she dressed to go identify her brother's body.

I'm sorry, Jace. I fucked up, but I'm going to fix it.

Oh, God. She sank onto the edge of the bed.

She would have fixed it, if only he'd asked.

* * *

Jace watched them zip the black body bag over Jimmy's face, every inch of it a punishment from which she would not flinch. Had each step to the gurney been a lash, she would not have cried out.

Cold. It was summer, but she was chilled to the bone. Black, suffocating guilt filled all the empty spaces inside her.

The boy who'd needed a mother...who'd been too little when their father died. That boy had tried to make peace, but she'd been too busy...so tired of being strong. Now it was too late. Forever too late.

Next to St. Justine, I could never measure up...I guess peace was too much to expect.

He hadn't come back to her to fix things up, after all.

Now he never would.

"Come on," Earl's gruff voice sounded beside her. "No need to stay here any longer. Let me take you home."

She shivered as they closed the doors of the wagon, sealing Jimmy inside. Fighting the urge to tear them open, to unzip the bag so he could breathe, Jace struggled for shallow gulps of air.

"Earl's right. You should go home. I'll stay with you." Gabriel's arm slipped around her shoulders.

She jerked away. "No."
I don't deserve comfort
. "I—I'll be fine. I have to be alone right now."

Leaving them both there watching her with concern on their faces, Jace was glad she'd insisted on having her own transportation, though Gabriel had driven her here in her jeep. He'd get a ride from Earl. Or figure out something. Gabriel was not her concern.

Dante Sabanne was.

He'd been elusive for long enough. Jace was going to get answers.

Faint golden fingers of dawn crept through the treetops as she pulled up to his gate. Leaning down from her jeep, she stabbed the button in short bursts. When no one answered, she hit it again and again.

"Wake up, you bastard!" The part of Jace that had gone cold at the sight of her brother's body now awakened to a fury so boundless she could barely see.

The gates opened. With a screech of tires, Jace roared up the drive and abandoned her jeep at an awkward angle to the door. Propelled by desperation, driven to find out why her brother had died, she raced up the steps, fist clenched to pound on the wood.

* * *

The door flew open, and there he stood.

"What's wrong?" Dante drew her inside.

The vortex tore at her.

She slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me." Desperately, she tightened her grip on the scream trembling to break free. "Did you kill my brother?"

"What?" He shook his head. Blinked. "You have a brother?"

Eyes burning from unshed tears, she clenched her hands into fists. "Answer me, damn you. Did you kill my brother?"

"I didn't know he existed. How did he die?"

The pretense of confusion only enraged her more. "Look at this." She opened her palm, peeled back the tissue to a dark oval within her clasp. He leaned forward to get a better look, and his eyes widened.

She crowed triumph. "It's the same design, isn't it?" She shoved past him and entered his library.

Dante followed.

Amulet in hand, she stalked straight to the shelves. "I knew it." She searched his face. "What does this symbol mean?"

Pain crossed his features, quickly smothered. "It's a copy of a family heirloom. Where did you get that?"

"I'll ask the questions," she snapped.

His eyes went cold and flat. "Is this official? Do I need my lawyer?"

She wanted to punch him. To gouge out his eyes.

She held her temper. Barely. "I'm not here as a cop—yet. But I have to know, Dante. Right here, right now. Give me the truth."

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