The Promised One (The Turning Stone Chronicles) (9 page)

He agreed. The whole thing screamed weird.

Alexi crossed her arms on her chest, eyes narrowing to crescents as she stared at him. “Maybe I’m not the one cheating.”

She’s accusing me? How had she managed to reverse the tables so neatly?
“I don’t know who the woman was,” he protested. “I know what it sounds like. You’ll have to believe me, like I believed you.”

A smile curled her lips ever so slightly. “So I’m forgiven?”

He chuckled. “No, I made love to you because I’m mad at you.” He rose to his feet and took her hand, ignoring the tingle that ran through him. “Get your keys. I’ll follow you home.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Yes, I do. The robber didn’t get what he wanted. Until he’s caught, I will remain your bodyguard.”

“I guess you would be.” Determination settled over Alexi’s face. “We’ll have to do something about that. Where did you park?”

“Next to you.”

“Figures,” Alexi muttered under her breath.

Alexi squealed out of the parking lot and sped through the red light, leaving him behind. He backed up, cut through the lot going onto the side street, and raced after her. He should have known she’d charge away from him. Her protest said as much. “You’re making me break the law, woman,” he shouted as he ran a red light.

Car horns blared as he cut through the intersection in pursuit of Alexi’s car. She turned a corner heading for a stretch of highway he knew she always avoided.
Why is she going this way? It makes no sense.
But then nothing had made sense today. The man he’d seen coming out of the room. The crazy sex. The woman he thought he’d seen in the bed. This day was not turning out like he had thought it would.

Suddenly, Alexi’s car dove between two cars and made a sharp right turn.
Damn, woman. How am I supposed to follow you when you drive like that?
Traffic forced him past the street where Alexi turned. For a minute he considered just going straight to her house but something didn’t feel right about the way she was acting. He made a sharp U-turn, barely missing an oncoming semi.

If I get in an accident, Alexi, it’ll be your fault.

Chapter 14

Alexi strode out of the hotel toward Sylvia’s car. A lot of time had gone by since she’d become Garrett Jordan, her male alter ego.

She noticed her reflection in the driver’s door window as she unlocked the car. Seeing the swarthy, handsome man with short, curly black hair staring back at her always amazed her.

When one of Sylvia’s informants reported the spotting of Baron’s imposter in a nearby shopping center, only minutes before Alexi left Sylvia, Sylvia insisted on Alexi shifting.
If you’re both shifted, you can sense his presence better
, she said.

The choices came down to shifting or letting Sylvia suspect she had other ways of tracking, namely her ability to read auras. She didn’t want to give Sylvia that information. So, she shifted into Garrett and slipped away in Sylvia’s rented car, her one contribution toward Garrett’s anonymity.

Finding the imposter had been easy. Alexi followed the line of police cars on silent alarm into the strip mall to the front of Armand Jewelers. Before exiting the car, she morphed back to her natural form.

“What’s homicide got to do with this?” the police officer asked when she flashed her badge at him. “We didn’t receive any report of a murder.”

“The description of the man matches a murder investigation I’ve been working. Mind if I check it out?”

The cop waved her past him. “Hope you find him.”

She approached the store clerk giving his account to an officer she knew. She hung back, listening.

“A man. About six foot. Salt-and-pepper beard. Kind of muscled.”

So far the description matched Baron.
Alexi stepped in closer.

“Eye color?” the officer asked.

The clerk squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to draw the answer from his mind. “Blue. Bright blue, almost a fake color . . . like he wore colored contacts.”

The first piece of real identification on the imposter.
A different eye color was one of the most difficult things to achieve. That had taken her months to master.

“What did he take?”

“One of our most expensive wedding band sets. Fourteen karat gold, with a four—carat, pear-shaped diamond engagement ring and wedding band encircled with one carat in diamonds, and about thirteen thousand in cash.”

The officer whistled. “That’s a lot of money.”

“We don’t normally have that much on hand,” the clerk explained. “The Brinks truck got delayed. He might have stolen more, but a customer came into the store. He pocketed his take and ran off.”

“Was he armed?” Alexi asked.

The officer spun around. “What are you doing here, Jordan?”

“I was in the area and heard what happened. Thought I’d swing by to offer my help. So, did he have a gun?”

“Yeah,” the clerk said. “A Smith and Wesson with a silencer on it.”

“You know guns?” the officer asked.

“I’m an NRA member,” he explained with a shrug. “Guns are a hobby.”

“Any video security footage?” Alexi asked.

“They’re reviewing it in the office,” the officer said.

“Can you make sure I get a copy?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

She thanked him, exited the store, and questioned the cops outside about any other witnesses.

“A couple reported that he came out and headed down the sidewalk.” The officer pointed in the direction the witnesses had indicated.

“No car?”

“Not that they could tell. They noticed him because he nearly knocked the woman down. Said he was running pretty fast for an old man. He was wearing dark blue sweats.”

“What time did this happen?”

The officer checked his watch. “About five minutes ago.”

“Thanks.” Alexi jumped in the car and headed in the direction indicated. Unless he had clothes stashed somewhere, he’d be wearing those same sweats. Kind of nondescript, but easy enough to recognize.

Alexi transformed back to Garret behind the darkened glass of Sylvia’s car. Rolling the windows down, she cruised slowly along the curb lane. Impatient drivers blared horns, expressing irritation at the slow pace. She stuck her arm out the open window and waved them forward. She needed to focus on the pedestrians on the sidewalk, not on the road. Until she spotted Baron’s imposter, she wasn’t going to abandon the car.

She concentrated on unfocusing her gaze so she saw everything in her line of vision equally. Heat shimmered off the concrete walk and car hoods. The hot waves bounced against the auras of passersby, disturbing the vibrating colors surrounding their bodies. Dismissing the turquoise, blue, and orange auras, she searched instead for the greens and reds she now recognized as shifter auras.

About three blocks from the jewelry store, she spotted a man in dark blue sweats. A ragged dark green and red aura surrounded him. She veered into a pharmacy parking lot, cut the engine, and took off on foot.

Although he walked with the confidence of a man who had nothing to hide, Alexi knew better. As she closed in on him she attuned her senses, waiting for the prickly sensation that crawled across her skin whenever she touched her uncle or when she neared him when they both had shifted to other forms. Baron had taught her to how to tune into the feeling by playing hide-and-seek. The game seemed silly at age twenty-one, but now she blessed him for his training. Training she had never expected to use.

No sensation.
He must be in his natural form. I’ll have to touch him to be certain he’s the one.
She lengthened her stride, coming within inches of the man. Still no prickles. Grasping his arm, she whirled him around to face her.

“Get your freaking hand off me,” he shouted. Then, for a second, he froze. Surprise flashed across his face.

She knew he felt the power surge connecting them. Her hand went numb with pinprick tingles.

The man broke loose and bolted down the sidewalk. Alexi sprinted after him. Picking up the pace, he glanced back at her, then dug into his pocket and threw his hand skyward. Bills fell onto the sidewalk like green rain. She ran through the paper, nearly knocking over an obese woman who stooped to pick up the money. The imposter tossed another handful of cash over his shoulder and then another. Pedestrians dropped to their knees, raking the bills into fists and pockets. Someone shoved her sideways and she tripped over a man crawling across the pavement. Alexi hit the pavement, skidding across the walk into a building. She scrambled to her feet, but the imposter had escaped.

Alexi hauled the nearest person to his feet, flashed her badge, and shouted at the mob. “Drop the money! It’s evidence in a robbery investigation.” Most of the bystanders complied, but a few crammed the bills into pockets and fled.

The man she’d collared hid his hands behind his back. “Show me that badge again,” he demanded. “I don’t believe you’re who you say you are.”

That was stupid, Jordan. You’re flashing Alexi’s badge and wearing Garrett’s face.
She wrenched the cash from him. “Get outta here,” she growled, “before I have you arrested.”

He hesitated for a moment. Balling her fists, she moved menacingly toward him and he took off. The crowd dispersed as she gathered what cash remained on the ground. Too many hands had fingered it to get any prints, but at least she could return some of it to the store.

More importantly, she now had a face for Baron’s imposter. His bright blue eyes had been a dead giveaway. Without a doubt, she knew he’d been in his natural form.

Chapter 15

Shaw careened around the corner, ducked into a clothing store, and sorted through a rack of clothes as casually as his pounding heart would let him.
Who the hell had that man been? And what happened when he touched me?

Swallowing the fear clutching its way from his stomach to his throat, he checked his pants pocket for the engagement ring and wedding band. They were there. At least he hadn’t lost those.

He lifted a shirt off the rack, went into a fitting room, and locked the door. Laying the cash he had left in piles on the melamine bench, he counted. Five hundred dollars. How much had he thrown away trying to escape? He scooped up the bills and pocketed them.

It doesn’t matter. I got away. Lulu won’t have to bail me out of jail.

He laid his forehead on the cool mirror.
Damn, that was too close for comfort. If Lulu knew what I was doing, stealing an engagement ring and wedding band, she’d kill me.
A vision of his girl surfaced and he smiled, enjoying the view of her plump breasts. The pleasure ended as pain shot through his arm. He looked at the ring. The green and red colors swirled together.

“Shit, it’s happening again,” he whispered as he dropped onto the bench. “Gotta stop it. How the hell do I stop it?”

The pain coursed through his body and he dragged his gaze to the dressing room mirror as two boobs burst out of his chest. He leapt off the bench and pinched his chest. “Damn,” he shouted. “The freaking things are real.” Gasping for breath, he fell back on the bench, legs shaking.

Someone knocked on the door. “You all right in there?”

“Yes,” Shaw squeaked. He clutched his throat. He sounded like a woman. “I pinched my-myself. It’s okay now.”
Like hell it was.

In the mirror, he watched his sandy-blond hair darken to brown and his pointed chin square. He did a double take. Lulu’s face stared back at him. He was his freaking girlfriend. He raised his shirt.
The damn things looked real enough.
Shaw clutched his crotch, groaned, and unzipped his pants.
He was a freaking eunuch!
His hand hit the bench seat.

“I love you, babe, but this ain’t gonna do.” He stared at the mirror, willing his own features back like he had the first time he had become Jordan. Lulu’s face blushed beet red from the effort. Her jaw slowly dipped back into a point, and the hair lightened to blond.

He angled sideways and gaped at the busty profile. With his hands, he squashed the boobs down so hard they hurt. When they didn’t go down, he slammed his chest into the wall. “Shrink, you SOBs! Shrink,” he hissed.

His face neared the wall as his chest came back to normal size. A heaviness dropped into his groin and he peeked into his briefs. The boys were back.

Exhausted, he collapsed onto the floor. He’d have to start paying attention to who he thought about and when. He sure as hell didn’t want to be a woman again.

Chapter 16

Alexi heard the garage door open, dropped the case file she’d been reading, and dove behind the kitchen island.

A second later, Sylvia’s tee shirt appeared at the kitchen door, topped by a carbon copy of Alexi’s head.

Alexi came out from her hiding place. “What the heck are you doing here, wearing my face?”

Sylvia stripped her tee shirt off and tossed it to Alexi. “Your boyfriend is on my tail. He came to the hotel looking for you.”

Alexi braced her hands on her hips. “So naturally, you became me?”

“Cut the sarcasm,” Sylvia said. “I saved your butt. Give me your tee shirt and put mine on.”

“Why?”

“Because when I raced away from him in
your
car,
you
were wearing that.” She waggled her fingers at Alexi. “Give me your shirt.”

“Why don’t you make it tougher for me? He’s going to be pissed I slipped off this morning. Now you have to go and make it a double offense.” Alexi frowned, drew her shirt over her head, and tossed the garment at Sylvia.

She yanked it on, shifting from female to male. “As pissed as he was when he thought you cheated on him?”

“How’d you do that so fast?” Alexi asked as she pulled on the pink tee shirt.

“Memorize this face. He’s your ticket to freedom from your guard dog. I’ll fill you in later.” She steered Alexi into the living room, opened the patio door, and started trashing the room. “I’m the robber. You’re the victim. Got it?”

The front door opened and Rhys burst through. Sylvia slugged Alexi, sending her over the back of the couch, and then dashed though the patio doors. Rhys rushed to Alexi.

“You okay?”

She wiped her hand over her mouth. “My lip’s busted. She busted my lip.”

“That was a man, honey.
He
busted your lip.” Rhys planted a quick kiss on her forehead. “Don’t move. I’ll be back.” Then he sprinted out the patio doors.

She sat on the couch, trying to make sense of what happened, but couldn’t. With luck, she might be able to piece things together. She wiggled her jaw from side-to-side. Sylvia packed a wallop. There would be payback for that.

Rhys came through the patio door and dropped onto the couch next to her. “He got away. Don’t know how, but he did.”

She shifted, Rhys. You didn’t have a chance in hell of catching her.
“Don’t blame yourself. You did the best you could.”

He examined her lip. “Not too bad, but we need to get you checked out. You might have a concussion. Do you think you can describe your attacker?”

“Yes.”

“Was it the same guy your informant described to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

He waved two fingers in front of her face. “I think that blow knocked out more than you realize. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two.” She shoved his hand down. “What informant?”

“The one you met at the hotel.”

He must have seen her alter ego leave Sylvia’s room.
That’s what she meant by saving my butt. She mimic shifted to me to move suspicion off my alter ego.
Playing the concussion card with Rhys might help her figure out what happened. “Oh, that informant. Yeah, I think he might have been.”

“Can you describe him?”

Now it made sense. Sylvia had shifted to the man to give me a description of the robber
.
But how is that going to get Rhys off my back? Unless she shifted to a real person . . . Go with it, Jordan. See what happens.

“He slugged me. I’ve got a good reason to remember his face. Let’s get down to the precinct and get this reported.”

Rhys helped her to her feet. “Sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.” She wiped her fingers over her mouth. “See, it stopped bleeding already.”

He brushed his finger over her tee shirt. “You’ve got some blood on this sexy top. Maybe you should change.”

Sexy top? What made him say that? Did Sylvia . . .?
Rhys stared at her with an odd mix of tenderness and desire. Apparently, Sylvia had convinced him she hadn’t cheated.

“I’ll help you upstairs,” Rhys said as he curled his arm around her waist.

Alexi nestled into him, vowing to strangle Sylvia with her bare hands if she touched Rhys.

The composite artist added the final touches to the drawing and handed it to Alexi.

“That’s the man,” she said with conviction. “The one who broke in today.”
At least a mimic of him.

“And the one Baron’s informant told you about?” Rhys asked.

She nodded. If Rhys said so, she’d agree. There were way too many missing parts about what happened in the hotel for her to say anything.
Just nod and acquiesce, Alexi.
She held in a smile. This might be the only time Rhys would get such undivided cooperation.

“And who is your informant?” Captain Williams asked.

She rubbed her temples with her middle fingers. “My head hurts. Things are jumbling.”

“She promised to keep his confidence,” Rhys said.

Captain Williams grunted and his cheeks sank in as he chewed on the insides. A motion Alexi recognized as one of disbelief. She scrubbed her face with her hands and put on a pained expression.

Rhys wrapped her shoulders in his arm. “I think I need to get her to ER. She’s had selective memory since she got sucker-punched.”

“You do that. And keep me informed, Temple.”

“Sure thing.” Rhys cupped Alexi’s elbow in his hand as she stood.

She relaxed into him and feigned a sigh, letting him support her. Better to play the part of a weak female and keep the captain off his guard. Not much got past the old man. He was a lot like Baron in that way.

A sudden pang of sorrow hit Alexi and she sighed for real. So many things had happened since Baron died. Things that kept her on the move, with no time to mourn. She had an unexpected urge to visit her uncle. “I want to go to the morgue before we leave.”

“The morgue? Are you sure?”

Alexi nodded. “I need to talk to him.”

The coroner slid out Baron’s body and Rhys settled a chair next to the morgue slab, then the two men left her alone.

Alexi placed her forehead against the cool metal and wept.

“I know it’s not midnight,” she said between sobbing hiccups, “but I need to let out this grief where Rhys won’t interfere and come comfort me, and where I can see you . . . or what’s left of you.”

She laid her hand on Baron’s arm. No warm tingles or pin prickles traveled through her palm. He was gone, and so was the security he’d given her. For twenty years he’d raised her, comforted her, made her laugh, and taught her things no one else could. A part of her had died with him, and she desperately needed back both the man and what her soul lost at his death.

In her inmost heart, she sensed that without those things she would not survive the supernatural battle she feared approached. Her family’s murder had only been the beginning. Even though Baron had never hinted at a larger plan, she guessed from his protectiveness, and secretive behavior in bringing her into her Turning Stone powers, that something larger loomed ahead. She always figured he would be beside her when it happened.

“I’m in over my head, Uncle. And I need you.” For a few moments, she sat quietly, foolishly hoping Baron would open his eyes and wink at her like he had when she was a young girl and he pretended to be sleeping. But he lay still.

She fingered the bare spot where Baron’s Turning Stone ring had been. “I’m hunting the man who did this to you, and I promise I’ll catch him and get your ring back . . . but I’m using Garrett to find him, and I’m scared.

“I don’t have anyone to trust now that you’re gone. Your Sylvia’s here, but there’s something about her that doesn’t seem right to me. And Rhys . . . we . . . well, I think you’d be happy for me. But I don’t know how long that will last.”

The weepy hiccups subsided, leaving her with burning eyes and a dry throat. She swiped at her face, wiping the last of the tears away.

Baron’s oft repeated encouragement came back to her.
You’re destined for greatness, dear niece.

After recent events, she feared he meant greatness of the magical sort. She bent down, kissed her uncle’s forehead, and closed the morgue slab.

She wished she were ordinary.

“I want to visit the crime scene where Baron was murdered,” Alexi said as she came out of the morgue. “Will you go with me, Rhys?”

“Are you sure? It’s only been two days since we found him.”

“Quit treating me like I’m made of glass.”

He checked his watch.
Nearly five p.m
.
It would be dark soon.
“Can it wait until tomorrow?”

“No. I have to go now. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

Based on the way she’d been acting lately, Rhys doubted that. Her tone of voice sounded nearly hysterical. If he didn’t take her, he supposed she’d go there alone. “Okay,” he said resignedly. “We’ll go, but on one condition. You leave when I say leave.”

Alexi nodded. Almost too quickly. Rhys studied her. Despite her testy, bravado façade, anxiety etched the edges of her eyes. He’d make this a real short visit—for her sake as well as his. The less she knew about his visit two days ago, the easier things would be.

By the time they got to the crime scene, the sun lay on the edge of the horizon. Shadows stretched across the alley reducing the space into early dusk. Rhys nosed his truck against the crime scene tape. He flipped on the headlights and scanned the alley. Except for trash, it was empty.

“Five minutes, Alexi. No more. This is a place you don’t want to be after dark.”

She nodded, got out of the truck, and headed straight for the dark, bloodstained spot on the street.

He put his hand on his holstered gun. A good man had died here already. Nothing was going to happen to that man’s niece. Checking his watch, he faced the only exit.

He hadn’t planned to intrude, but when four minutes passed and she’d been totally silent. She stood beside the stained area, one hand balled against her stomach and the other clenched at her side. No sound came from her, although her body heaved, as if she wept. Keeping his gaze on the alley entrance, he backed toward her.

“Lexi, sweetheart. We need to go now.” When she didn’t move, he gently took her arm and guided her toward the truck. She came willingly. Wishing she would break down and cry or say something, he bundled her into the truck. Holding all that grief inside couldn’t be good. He backed the truck out of the alley and started down the street.

Suddenly, Alexi screamed, “Stop!”

His reflexes taking over, he slammed on the brakes. “What?” He glanced around. No cars or pedestrians near them. “Sheesh, Alexi. Why’d you scream like that? Scared the crap outta me.”

“I’m hungry,” she said as she hopped out of the truck. “Park the truck. I’ll wait for you in there.” She pointed toward the Dew Drop Inn.

The tires squealed as he swung into a parking space. He jumped out of the truck. He was in trouble now, especially if the bartender he’d interviewed was working tonight.

Rhys chose a table as far away from the bar as he could. Alexi ordered a pastrami on rye and a diet soda. He contemplated a double shot of whiskey then decided against it when he noticed the barkeep was a woman. His secret was safe . . . for now.

Alexi picked at her sandwich, making him suspect she had more than eating on her mind. “Want to tell me the real reason you wanted to stop?”

She swirled the ice around in her soda glass then searched the room. “Do you think he was in here before he died?”

”Baron? I don’t know why.” She flashed him a don’t-act-like-I’m-stupid
look, and he hastened to amend his statement. “It’s possible, though, since this is nearby.”

“We should ask some questions.”

“The captain put you on bereavement leave. I don’t think he’d like it if we started interrogating people.”

“You’re not on bereavement leave. You could ask the questions and share the info with me.”

“I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t like that either.”

“It seems like we’re sitting around doing nothing while Baron’s killer gets away.”

“It might help if we could figure out why he was wearing that dress. A man like Baron wearing a dress would be pretty difficult to miss, but no one seems to have noticed anything like that.”

Alexi’s eyes narrowed and she stared at him, suspicion lighting her gaze. “How would you know?” She shoved her half-eaten sandwich aside, rose part way out of her chair, and angled over the table toward him. “What do you know that you’re not telling?”

He tipped the chair onto the back legs and tried to act nonchalant. “I’m just saying you wouldn’t miss a sight like that. If someone had seen him, it would be in the case files, and the captain wouldn’t continue to wonder about Baron’s dress. Would he?”

“I suppose not.” Alexi sat back down and rubbed her face, cringing when she touched her cheek where she had been hit.

Rhys stood. “We need to get you home and get some ice on that.” Alexi didn’t move as she gazed longingly around the bar. He could almost see the need to interrogate swirling up from inside her. He slapped a twenty on the table and gripped Alexi by the arm. Time to get her out of here before it was too late.