When Temptation Burns: A Shadow Keepers Novel (Shadow Keepers 6) (9 page)

The memory was still with her, as strong as ever. But while she’d always miss her mother, the pain had faded. The necklace had become her talisman, but whether she was looking to her mom or to God, she could never truly say.

“You had no failings as a father,” she said after she swallowed the bite of cookie.

“You’re very kind.”

“But if you did …” She trailed off mischievously.

“Ah, and here it comes. The other shoe dropping.”

“If you did, it wouldn’t be that you didn’t encourage me to eat, it would be that you encouraged me to eat cookies.” She lifted the buttery flower, one petal now gone. “Not one of the basic food groups, Dad.”

He
tsked
. “I kept meaning to take a nutrition class when I was in school, but they didn’t offer one at the
seminary. But I’m serious, sweetheart. I worry about you.”

She leaned back against the couch and then tucked her feet under her. Her coffee was in arm’s reach on the side table, and now she grabbed it, cupping the mug in her hands to warm her up. In the summer her father always kept the thermostat on sixty-eight. She’d carried a blanket around throughout her childhood, not for security but for basic warmth. “So what are you worrying about today? And don’t tell me this,” she added, nodding at the cookies. “If you weren’t worried about me eating pizza for breakfast at age twelve, I don’t believe it’s keeping you up at nights now that I’m twenty-six.”

For a moment he didn’t answer, just sat in his own chair and sipped his coffee. Then he put his cup down on the crocheted coaster Gretchen had made more than twenty years ago. “I don’t think you should have gone back.”

Andy focused on the cookie, pretending she didn’t understand. “Back?”

“To see him. That monster.” He shuddered. “You walked through my door, and I swear I felt cold. Like you’d brought back a piece of the devil himself.”

She smiled at him fondly. “I’m not one of your parishioners, Daddy. The theatrics don’t work on me.”

“I’m not being theatrical. There’s evil in the world, sweetheart. You know how I feel about you brushing up against it.”

“We’ve been over this a hundred times. The opportunity to write about Creevey was too good to pass up.” That wasn’t entirely true. When she’d pitched the original article to the
LA Times
legal editor, she hadn’t realized how big the case would become. How much
attention it would garner because of Creevey’s pretty-boy looks and his ridiculous claims that he had connections to vampires. And it wasn’t until she was already deep in the thick of it that the prosecutors had added more counts, revealing to the public that Creevey was being charged with multiple brutal murders.

She’d sought the story out not because she’d known it would make her career, but because she’d wanted a window into the mind of a man who could so willingly torture and kill a woman. She wanted to understand.

That, however, wasn’t something she could tell her father. She told herself it was because she feared dredging up the memory of her mother and opening her father’s old wounds, but that wasn’t true either. The truth was that she wanted to understand how someone could do that—could so brutally take a life—and the only way she could do that was to look evil in the face. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell her father that she wanted to look that close because she was afraid he’d somehow think less of her.

“I don’t want you to think I disapprove of your work, baby. What you’re doing is good. You’re shining light on things that have no business hiding in the dark. And the coverage you provided of that monster’s trial has paid off in your career. That article was a good investment of time.”

“I know it was.” She’d already been approached by a publisher. If she could pitch an equally compelling piece, she just might be able to spin her newfound fame into a book deal. Heady stuff, if she could pull it off. That, of course, was the trick.

“But at the same time,” her father continued, “I don’t know that it’s a good idea going back to that watering
hole. Now that you’re established, maybe you should focus on something … cleaner.”

“You don’t want me writing a follow-up.”

Her father shook his head. “No, but that’s only part of it.”

“Daddy?” His expression was dark, so unlike his usually jovial persona, and it worried her.

“You’ve been mingling with evil, Andrea. You’ve been seeking it out. And sometimes, when you look in dark corners, you find things that are better left hidden.”

She realized that she’d lifted her hand to her neck and was idly toying with the cross. She pulled her hand away. “You’re talking like there’re monsters out there. Real ones, not just dangerous men like Creevey.”

“As surely as there are angels, there are devils, too. And I don’t want my daughter butting heads with them.”

She shook her head, not sure if he was speaking in metaphors. Her mother had always teased that another world existed alongside their own, but the world Gretchen had told her daughter about consisted of fairies and pixies living on flower petals. Gretchen hadn’t really believed it, of that Andy was certain. And she’d never before had the impression that her dad thought anything otherworldly existed on earth; that was the realm of heaven and hell, after all. A reason to be good and guard your soul, maybe, but nothing was going to jump out of your closet at night if you didn’t.

“Honestly, Daddy, you’ve thrown me for a little bit of a loop here. I mean, you’re not serious, are you? The boogeyman?”

For a second, she thought he was going to tell her that’s exactly what he meant. Then he shook his head and gave her that half smile. “There’s evil inside that
man, Andy. I used to think there’s good inside everyone, but it’s not true. Some folks are born evil and some take it in like wine. And those that do, well, they’ll always try and spread their evil ministry.”

“I’m not turning to the dark side, Daddy. The Force is strong within me.”

“I’m not joking.”

She sat back, chagrined. “I know you’re not, but I’m okay. Really I am. I’m stronger than you think.”

He moved from his chair to sit beside her, then took her hand, the way he had when she was little. “I know how strong you are. Without your strength I would have collapsed after the Lord took your mother. But sometimes strength isn’t enough. Remember, even if you fight against evil, it’s fighting, too. And it’s strong.” He sighed. “We all have to fight in our own way. Just remember, with everything I do, my first goal is to protect you.”

She thought about the latest story she was working on—one that could potentially be big enough for a book—and wondered how her dad would feel about it. A fanatical group whose members believed that supernatural creatures walked among us—the kind that would make Creevey look like a kitten. It wasn’t a story he’d like her to be on, but it also wasn’t one she could give up. She hated keeping secrets from her dad, but she didn’t want him to worry. And, yeah, she didn’t want to have to justify herself.

“When you were writing articles about the film industry, I didn’t worry,” he continued. “But this—”

“I couldn’t handle being shuttled through any more press junkets.” She’d spent a year as a staff reporter for an LA-based entertainment rag. She’d gone from press event to press event, just one in the crowd covering
nothing of substance. She’d been bored out of her mind, and she wasn’t about to go back to it. “But I’ll ask around,” she lied. “Maybe there’s a meatier story out there. Maybe I can write about some Hollywood hunk’s secret love child. I’m sure that’s never been done before.”

To his credit, her father laughed, then hugged her. “Just be careful. Even if he is behind bars, he still scares me.”

“Me, too,” she said, meaning it. It was that fear that had driven her to the story, made her want to understand what made Creevey tick. Because if she understood him then—then what? Then she could avoid it? Then she could bring her mother back?

She didn’t know, and she supposed it didn’t matter. It was what she wanted to do, and it was a hell of a lot more interesting than covering the premiere of
Friday the 13th Part Eighty-Three
.

“Speaking of Hollywood,” he said, “why don’t you stay for a movie. Something fun. How about
The Music Man
?”

She rolled her eyes. “How about
Die Hard
?”

“Deal.”

“Great. I’ll make the popcorn—oh!” She flashed an apologetic smile. “I can’t. I signed up to help at the teen center tonight.” Though her father’s ministry didn’t advertise its involvement, the ministry sponsored a recreation center for teens in Santa Monica. The idea was to give kids a safe place to hang out, and since the goal was to attract as many of them as possible, the religious component wasn’t flaunted. Andy didn’t get too involved with her father’s church-related activities, but the Pacific Teen Center was something she felt strongly about. She
volunteered as much as she could, spending time with the kids, letting them know that she was there if they wanted to talk about anything at all.

“I’ll take a rain check,” her dad said. “Be sure to give Kevin a call tonight, though. He’s called twice looking for you.”

“Here? Why?”

“Said you weren’t answering your phone. Sounded a little hyper, but considering how your cousin usually acts, I wasn’t too concerned. Everything okay with you two?”

“Of course,” she said, but worry crept into her voice. “I had to turn my phone off in the prison. I forgot all about it.” She pulled it out and looked at the display. He’d called, but he hadn’t left a message.

Though she was six years older, she and Kevin had been as close as siblings growing up. That alone would have been enough to cause her concern on his behalf, but add in the fact that he was the one who had introduced her to the Dark Warriors—and that he’d recently told her that two of his college buddies had promised to show him something that would blow his mind—and she was definitely feeling anxious.

“Girl trouble?” Andrew asked, almost hopefully.

“That would be a good thing?”

“At least one of the kids in this family would be dating,” he said, pointedly.

“I could say the same for you,” she said archly. “Half the women in the congregation have their eye on you.”

“And I have my eye on the flock.”

“You should date, Daddy. I worry.”

“As do I. And not about Kevin.”

“I’m looking. I’m just extraordinarily picky. The man
I end up with has a lot to live up to. A girl idolizes her dad, you know.”

“Now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“Is it working?”

“It is,” he said, then laughed. He waved his hand toward the door. “Go on, now. Have fun at the Center. And let me know what’s up with your cousin.”

“Night, Daddy.” She hurried toward the door, wishing she hadn’t missed Kevin’s calls. And hoping that it really was something as simple as a college romance gone bad.

When she’d first found the Pacific Teen Center, CeeCee Jane Gantz had thought it was pretty lame. And she sure as hell didn’t think it had anything to offer her.

Maybe if she’d found it a few months earlier, back when she was still human; a sixteen-year-old runaway trying to stay alive in Los Angeles. Maybe then it would have been cool.

But she didn’t have to worry about that staying alive thing anymore. And she wasn’t alone anymore, either. She had Luke and Sara, the two vampires who’d adopted her. And she had her mentor Sergius whenever she needed to talk to someone. And she even had Sergius’s wife, Alexis, when she wanted to hit the malls and do some shopping.

She wasn’t alone.

Except sometimes she still felt lonely.

In a couple of hundred years, she’d only look sixteen. But right now, she still really
was
sixteen. And nobody she was hanging out with was even close to her age.
Alexis and Sara each beat her by more than a decade. And Sergius and Luke had a couple of millennia on her. They didn’t listen to Lady Gaga, they had no clue who the Band Perry was, and not a single one of them wanted to see any of the Star Wars films rereleased in 3-D.

It was on one of those lonely days that she’d finally wandered into the Center.

She knew it was run by some church group, and CeeCee was a long way from religious. But the place didn’t flaunt it. Instead, it was all about the snacks and the air hockey, the library corner and the television room. The adults who volunteered there mostly stayed out of the kids’ way, and so the place had the vibe of a giant living room. Or the common area of a frat house.

Most of the kids who came were at risk—meaning they were dancing around gangland stuff or girls who’d gotten pregnant or the freako kids who didn’t quite fit in. CeeCee was part of that latter group.

At first, she didn’t talk much. Just hung out and read books. Maybe played some hoops in the lot behind the building. After all, it wasn’t like she was going to plunk down next to someone and start oversharing about how she drank blood and was going to live forever.

But still …

For some reason, she kept coming back. If she wanted to go all psychoanalytical on herself, she’d say it was because she was still clinging to her old, human life. And, yeah, that was probably a lot of it. Some of it was because the adult volunteers were pretty cool. Like Andy, who tended to hang out in the reading section and would always ask CeeCee what she liked to read. She never pried or wanted to get all analytical or find deep meaning in CeeCee’s book choices. Instead, she’d make
book recommendations for things she thought CeeCee would like. She’d even play basketball and air hockey, and she wasn’t half-bad.