The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance)) (17 page)

BOOK: The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance))
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“You know what,” she swiped her hand through the air and gave a shaky laugh, “never mind. It doesn’t matter. Just thanks for the rescue.”

Last thing she needed to do was tell her neighbor how much of a donkey’s butt she’d just made of herself.

His smooth, easy grin made her smile in spite of herself.

“Happy to do it when they look as pretty as you.”

“Oh man. Nice. That was smooth, really smooth. Bet you say that to all the ladies. Tell you what, if I were thirty years older...” she said, falling immediately into the easy banter they’d always shared.

“Pft.” He waved his hand. “No way. If I were thirty years younger you’d never stand a chance. Pretty charming in my day.”

She cocked a brow. “Is that so?”

“Mmm. Yes, ma’am. All I’da had to do was play a few licks on my Gibson.” He demonstrated for her, nimble fingers playing a chord on the air guitar. Pink tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, head bopping to music only he could hear. “Oh I swear. I was a player. Had dolls lining up around the corner to hear ol’ Curtis play the strings.”

She laughed. “I just bet you did. Wouldn’t hurt that you’re a witch, probably enchanted them with a little love charm, eh? Admit it.”

Eve walked to the silver mailbox affixed to the wall and checked her mail, nothing but bills. She rolled her eyes, shoved the envelopes underneath her arm and returned to her conversation.

“Well. Gotta use our goddess given talents. Whatever they might be.” He winked and played with his white goatee, then his eyes took on a faraway look. The memory, whatever it was, must be nice because a slow, soft smile crept over his features.

The honesty on his face made her feel a little voyeuristic, like she was glimpsing something private. She shifted on the balls of her feet wondering if she should just walk away and leave him to his thoughts.

Meow
.

A tabby cat slid between her legs, rubbing the length of its body along hers with a contented sigh.

“New cat?”

“Sure is.” Curtis bent over and picked up the feline. “This is Samhain. Orange color makes me think of the season.”

“Hello, Samhain.” She scratched the furry head between its ears. The cat closed his eyes and purred. For some reason the reaction made her think of Cian. Thinking of him brought on a new rush of fire through her limbs.

She cleared her throat. Goddess, she really needed to get control over herself.

“So this makes what, cat number seven?”

He nodded. “Can never have enough cats.”

She yawned, walking towards the base of the stairwell and planted her foot on the bottom step. Exhaustion was finally beginning to claim her, blurring the edges of her vision. “Spoken like a true witch.”

He smiled and tipped his cap to her. “Well g’day, Eve. I’m taking Samhain to the park.”

“Yes, you too Mr. Lovelace.”

“After ten years, I think you can call me Curtis now.”

She paused. Why was he looking at her like that? Studying her? Not like prey. Not the way fangs would a victim. But the way someone did when they were really interested in everything you had to say. Like she was really that fascinating. “Curtis then.”

He nodded, tipped his hat to her and left.

“Weird. Goddess, my life is so weird,” she muttered with a small shake of her head and walked up the stairs. No sooner was she sticking her key into the lock she heard the phone ringing.

“I’m coming,” she yelled, like that was going to do any good. “I’m coming, don’t hang up. Don’t hang up.” Maybe it was Cian. Oh Goddess, maybe she hadn’t made such a mess of things. Of course she hadn’t given him her number, but she was listed in the white pages. There was hope. Right?

Her stomach twisted in on itself, flopping down to her knees.

She rushed into her living room, throwing the door closed, picking up the phone on its fourth ring.

“Hello,” she said in a breathless whisper.

“Ohmygod, she’s just getting home Cel!” Tamryn squealed into her ear.

She winced, pulling the phone away until the shriek died down. To say that her heart dropped would be an understatement. It flat lined. Okay, she should have expected this, but jeez, it didn’t make it any less of a letdown.

“Oh hey, Tam,” she plopped onto the couch, covering her eyes with her hand and sighed. With disgust she tossed the bag of taffy to the ground.

“Oh hey. Please, try not to sound so excited.”

“Tamryn, if this is the inquisition I’m not in the mood.” She kicked off her shoes and grabbed the cashmere blanket draped over her couch.

“You’re just getting home and you expect me not to be curious.”

She closed her eyes. “Sure you can be curious.”

A nagging, throbbing pain started at her sinuses and traveled up her skull. She frowned, rubbing the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t so much painful as an annoyance.

She took deep breaths, counting backwards from ten until the headache slowly subsided then vanished all together, leaving just as fast as it’d come.  

She rubbed her forehead, exhaustion creeping in. Headaches tended to be a thing for her. Especially when she got overly stressed or tired and right now, she was both.

A sudden rush of sleepiness filled her limbs. She couldn’t keep her eyes open for anything, they felt like weights, repeatedly slamming shut.

Fuzz growing in her head.

Tongue was feeling heavy. Just the thought of having to form a coherent sentence together seemed too much right now.

“Eve,” her sister stressed her name. “I hear you falling asleep on me.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Fine. But you’re telling me later.”

“Yesh,” she slurred and hung up the phone.

 

 

Cian doubled around the sidewalk, running behind the homes. Searching, his heart pounded a furious tempo. He’d seen him. There’d been a flash of red and a bright flare of silver lurking around the bushes of her home. Frenzy was here.

He increased his speed, pumping his arms and legs, almost flying in his haste to get there. He could use the portal, but that might attract attention. As slow as this was, it was his only option. Finally he reached her house and walked around the back yard, searching through bushes. Not even out of breath from his exertions.

“Get out here,” he seethed.

He smelled death. Felt his brethren to the depths of his bones. His ears rang in recognition. “Frenzy, you bastard...”

And then there he was, standing before him, as nonchalant as could be. His hair glowed a vibrant red in the first rays of sunlight; mercurial eyes stared back at him.

Something inside Cian snapped to even think of Eve in danger. He took a step forward with fists clenched tight. One wrong word. One wrong move. He’d defend what was his. To his dying breath.

“What the bloody hell are ye doing here?” he hissed, glaring at the man with open hatred.

A heartbeat within the house snagged his attention. It was the slow gentle hum of one in sleep. A soft glow of happiness engulfed him, wrapped him up in a rushing warmth of joy.

His lashes fluttered. Even in sleep, she gave him peace, kept the madness at bay.

“I’m a casual observer, Cian. As are you.” A corner of Frenzy’s mouth tipped and his gaze rolled over Cian’s face. “Maybe a little more than you. Accents creeping out, old man. Thought you had more self control than that.”

Cian ignored the sarcasm. “Why are you here? You swore me a week.”

Frenzy cocked his head. “Swore yes. Which the Queen quickly stripped me of. Four days, Cian. That’s all she’s willing to pledge.”

His jaw clenched. Not enough time. He glanced up at the second story, almost as if he could peer through the wood into her room and at her. He sighed, shoving fingers through his hair. “So in four days you’ll kill her? Is that it?”

Frenzy crossed his arms, his black shirt rustled with the movement. Black on black. Black shirt. Black jeans, with bright red hair, silver eyes. The man was the freaking embodiment of the stereotypical fae. Perilous. Fatal. But with that sharp lethal grace that had women wetting themselves.

Jealousy flared, it was bright, hard, and heavy, choking the air from his lungs. He’d never been a jealous man. But he didn’t want this bastard around her.

“She’s got four days. Leave her alone.”

The reaper lifted a brow, canines in prominent display. Fangs weren’t the exclusive domain of Weres and vamps. Fairy had them too.

“Jealous. Ohhh,” Frenzy breathed, “so unlike you.”

He raised a fist, ready to tear into him.

Lifting his hands in a mock show of peace, Frenzy took a step forward. The air grew charged with the promise of danger. Cian shook as adrenaline coursed through him, he refrained. Barely.

Two behemoths, both powerful and each knew it, but neither of them willing to back down.

“Don’t worry, Cian,” Frenzy walked around him and said to his back, “she can’t see me.”

Cian twirled, but Frenzy was already gone.

 

***

 

Frenzy walked to the bedroom mirror in Curtis’ home and grabbed the silver amulet off the nightstand. He grinned, slipping the cold metal back on. It settled against him with a soft blue glow.

His plan had worked almost better than he’d hoped. Cian was now on his toes. Alert and aware of Frenzy, ready for anything he might pull.

“Dumb bastard, it won’t be Frenzy harming Eve.” He watched as his skin turned mahogany rich, his eyes a dull brown. Curtis stared back at him.

Cian thought he had it figured out. He was on guard for Frenzy’s deception. It made the rest so easy. Too easy.

While Cian was watching him, he wouldn’t be watching Curtis. Now it was just a matter of slipping in and making her trust him. He’d tasted her fear this morning, for a brief moment she’d sensed something amiss. But all he’d had to do was smile and talk about their past and she’d relaxed.

Too easy.

A meow snagged his attention. Samhain sat on the couch, licking a paw and staring at him. Cian stalked toward the cat. He’d taken the other six to shelters. What the hell was he supposed to do with so many cats? He didn’t have time to sit and feed them. But not this one.

He swallowed and sat, pulling the tabby onto his lap. Dark, dangerous memories flooded him.

Hurt. Pain. Desperation. Blood. Everywhere.

No, he hadn’t been able to give this one away. It reminded him too much of her. Adrianna.

He swatted the memories away, nostrils flaring as the old anger, old pain, seeped into his veins. It felt like a dagger piercing his heart, bleeding him dry. Samhain stared back at him with slanting green eyes, bright with intelligence and curiosity.

He touched the soft velvet of its fur and stopped thinking. Shut off the thoughts, the memories, and relaxed into the soothing melody of the cat’s vibrating purrs of approval. The soft steady bumps of Eve’s beating heart a lullaby to his ears.

 

 

 

“I had a feeling you might show today,” Lise said without turning. She was seated at the empty bar of Club X, reading a newspaper with a half-eaten bagel in front of her.

“You know me too well,” Cian drawled. The anger of earlier still lingered in his blood. He sighed and glanced around the club squinty eyed. It was strange how a vibrant, pulsing room at night could look so foreign and sterile in the morning.

Red stools sat empty and in row, pushed tight against the bar. The DJ’s booth now silent. A blue velvet curtain covered the stage. Instead of seeing rows of martini glasses filled with differing shades of liquor on the polished countertop, they were now hanging by their stems, locked into a metal frame above the bar.

Lise cleared her throat, forcing his attention back to her face. She lifted a gray brow, folded the newspaper, sitting it down with a soft thud. Folding her arms in front of her, she waited patient as he approached.

The unnerving white of her eyes pinned him. “I suspect you found her in time, then.”

“I did.”

“Sit, please.”

He took a seat next to her and began to idly toy with the lid of a saltshaker.

“I’m glad you did. Her potential means much to me. But--” she waved her hand through the air, “I cannot violate the rules of choice anymore. Either you’ll save her or you won’t. However, that is not why I asked you here today.”

BOOK: The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance))
10.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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