by Kat Simons
Cary considered her next words carefully. “Ms. Webber…”
“Sally,” she said on a tired sigh without opening her eyes.
“Sally. Jon is at a delicate age. And he is a good boy. My dogs loved him instantly, and they have very good instincts.” The fact that they also liked Deacon quickly nudged at her conscious, but she didn’t have time to think about that.
She sat on the couch, and Sally rolled her head to look at her. Her eyes were dark circled and held a weary wisdom that made Cary tired just looking at her.
“But if his powers are growing as much as you think,” she said, “this is a dangerous time. And it would be best to keep him with the positive influence of his loving mother and his friends.”
“Are you counting yourself among those friends?”
“I’d like to be. I’d like to make sure he survives to be the strong, upstanding man I know he can be.”
“So would I,” Sally whispered. “So would I.”
10
Cary sighed as she stepped into another classroom and walked up to yet another teacher to introduce herself. Jonathon was thoroughly enjoying strutting around with a bodyguard, and he played it for everything he could.
To be fair to the kid, she’d played it up a bit, too. She was decked out in all black. Black jeans, black turtle neck, black jacket, black boots. She had her hair in a tight braided, and she spent her time standing at the back of the room looking serious and mean. She could hardly blame the kid for enjoying the performance.
She felt a little silly—the full black thing was pretty clichéd. But the outfit gave off just the right impression. She needed to look capable and dangerous, but she didn’t want to look like an FBI agent in a suit. This gave her a more gritty appearance. At least, that’s what she was going for. Whether it was working or not was anyone’s guess.
The principal had seemed impressed. She’d spent the better part of twenty minutes grilling Cary about her job. Cary suspected Mrs. Lieberman had been a bodyguard in another life. Either that or she considered the life of a bodyguard easier than being a school principal.
This was Jon’s last class of the day, thankfully. Cary had spent the entire day remembering why she’d never liked high school. College had been great. But high school…
Forcing a professional smile, she shook hands with Jon’s biology teacher, Mr. David Young. He was the only teacher about which Jon had anything good to say.
David Young fit his name. He was probably the youngest of Jon’s teachers, in his early thirties at a guess. He was tall, well built, and handsome enough she would have daydreamed her way through biology if he’d been her teacher. His dark, curly hair was cut close to his head, his dark eyes sparkled with good humor. He dressed neatly, in trousers and a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his forearms.
“I’ll just stand quietly at the back,” she assured him. “You won’t even know I’m here.”
“Oh believe me, Ms. Redmond, I’ll know you’re there,” he said with a grin.
Well. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Mr. David Young was flirting with her.
She leaned against the wall as the class started and tried not to let the lulling drawl of a lecture put her to sleep. Not that Mr. Young wasn’t a good teacher, even an entertaining one. She just had a Pavlovian response to lectures. They sent her to sleep. She’d been fighting the drowsiness all day.
Her exhaustion didn’t stem entirely from her sleep response to lectures, though. It had taken her hours, a pizza, a lot of coffee, and a promise that Deacon wouldn’t spend the night while Jon was there—a moment of sheer, horrified embarrassment for Cary given she barely knew Deacon but Sally thought he was her boyfriend—before she’d talked Sally into moving herself and her son into Cary’s house.
In the last six years, Cary had only needed to use her own home a couple of times to protect someone, but thanks to the secret glamour, it was an awful lot safer than Sally’s apartment. Which meant that while they were in the house, Cary wouldn’t have to be on constant guard. Since she couldn’t tell Sally about the glamour, she’d had to jump through a lot of hoops to convince the woman to trust her.
Even after they’d agreed to the arrangement, they still had to go to Sally’s place so they could pack bags, then they’d swung past Sheldon’s apartment to pick up Cary’s car.
While there, Cary had had another one of those “being watched” feelings, like she’d had that morning standing on the street after saving Jon. She couldn’t see anything, but she was seriously creeped out by the sensation. It felt intense and…personal. Not like someone was just casually curious, looking at them from a window. Her skin crawled with the sensation and her every instinct went on alert.
The fact that Sheldon’s body had gone missing still bothered her. She only hoped Jaxer was looking into it since she couldn’t until things with Jon were settled. But worry followed her out of the parking lot.
By the time they got back to her house, had everyone settled, and she’d said goodnight to Deacon, she’d been exhausted. She’d dropped into bed and slept like a log, waking with the sure knowledge that she could sleep for several more hours.
Which made staying awake while acting like a big bad bodyguard a lot harder. Maybe she’d take a nap while Jon did his homework. Did Jon have homework? She’d been too dopey during his past classes to remember if he’d been assigned any. Some ace bodyguard she was.
She was watching the clock, counting the minutes left until the end of the period, when Deacon stepped through the door. She pulled away from the wall, trying not to look too shocked. He nodded to the teacher then motioned her into the hall.
She waved an apology to Mr. Young on her way out.
Mr. Young smiled and went back to teaching as soon as the door closed behind her.
The next thing she knew, Deacon’s arms were around her, his mouth on hers, and he was kissing her like he’d never be able to get enough. After the initial shock, followed by the rather terrifying thought that this was the best thing she’d experienced all day, she pulled back and scowled up at him.
“What was that?” She wanted to curse at the sound of her own voice, all breathy and soft. She was supposed to be irritated and annoyed, not turned on. Right?
“Desperation,” he said after a moment.
She raised her brows, but she had a feeling if she asked him more they’d get into a conversation she didn’t want to have in the middle of the school corridor.
She eased back, ensuring there was some space between them. Then shoved her hands into her jacket pockets for good measure. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day, and I couldn’t wait any longer.”
She stared at him, waiting.
“Also, Jaxer sent me.”
“Ah. You have a message for me.”
“Yes. But my primary reason for coming was to kiss you.” His voice was deep and husky, rougher than usual, the sound insanely sexy.
Lovely, she thought with more panic creeping in. “It’s the middle of the day. Don’t you have a job? Why aren’t you there?”
“I was too distracted.”
“By?”
“You.”
She frowned. “I don’t want that. You do important work.”
“Don’t worry, the work is still getting done. I wouldn’t be a very good boss if I didn’t hire people competent enough to keep things running while I’m away from my desk for a few days.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Plus,” he interrupted, “my sister is back in town, and I’ve left her in charge. She’s better at fundraising than I am anyway, which is the most important part of the job.”
“Your sister? I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“I have several. The animal rescue shelters are a family business.”
“Oh.” Yet another thing she didn’t know about him.
“She’s looking forward to meeting you,” he said.
> Cary’s eyes widened. “You told your sister about me? I haven’t even talked to my mom since we met and already your mother and your sister know about me?”
“I imagine most of the family knows about you by now.”
“Big family?”
“Pretty big.”
“Oh boy.” She blinked and shook her head. “Maybe you should tell me what Jaxer wants.”
“Mr. Young has a thing for you.”
She scowled at the non sequitur. The edge in his tone, the faint growl in his words, made the hairs on her arms stand up. “I’m positive that isn’t what Jaxer sent you here to tell me.”
“He wants you.”
“Jaxer?”
“Him, too. But I was talking about the teacher.”
“How do you…?”
He tapped his nose. “I could tell the minute I stepped into the room.” There was a definite growl now. And his voice had dropped an octave. “I won’t be able to go back in when you do. It’s going to be hard enough to let you go back.”
“Let me?” He better not think he suddenly had the right to tell her what she could and couldn’t do just because he thought she was his mate. That wasn’t going to happen in this lifetime.
“I know I can’t stop you. But that jealous streak I warned you about is just begging me to rip his throat out.”
She gaped at him. “You wouldn’t, though, right?”
His jaw muscles flexed. “I’m doing my best to keep that part of my nature under control. But it’s not easy. In fact, it’s a lot harder than I could have imagined.”
She opened her mouth to say something, realized she had no idea how to deal with this, and turned the conversation to a safer topic. “Why did Jaxer send you?”
Deacon’s golden eyes narrowed. He glanced toward the classroom and it crossed Cary’s mind that she might have to protect Mr. Young from him. Oh, that wasn’t good.
She studied Deacon warily, trying not to make any sudden moves. After a moment of hard staring, he blinked a few times and shook his head, like he was pulling out of a daze. Fisting his hands, his jaw tight, he sucked in a couple of deep breaths through his nose.
Finally, he faced her. The faint yellow glow in his eyes proved just how close to the surface his animal was. Her pulse kicked at that show of preternatural spookiness. As she watched, the glow slowly faded, but there was still an aura of wild danger surrounding him.
“Jaxer wanted me to tell you,” he said with deliberate calm, “we’ve tracked down the boss of the men who tried to kidnap Jon.”
That was enough to shock her out of her wariness. “Already? That was quick.”
“Jaxer’s been working on it since yesterday. And I put out a few inquiries myself.”
“So. Who is it?”
“He’s a ghost.”
“A real ghost?” Her voice squeaked. She hated ghosts. Ghosts were scary. Even scarier than clowns. And clowns were terrifying.
Deacon shook his head. “I just mean we haven’t been able to track down his real identity, just his presence.”
“Ah.” She tried not to sound too relieved.
A teacher passed them, glancing over her shoulder with a disapproving frown. Cary scowled back. They were just talking. Geez. Not like they were making out. Anymore.
“So what do you know about him?” she asked once the teacher rounded a corner.
“He has an agenda of some kind and has been working in the paranormal community, gathering specific types of powers to him for the last year. We haven’t found out much more yet, but he’s reputed to be very dangerous, with extensive resources at his disposal to get what he wants. Whoever or whatever he is, he makes Jaxer nervous.”
“Oh good.” This just kept getting worse. She ran a hand over her hair and tried not to sigh too obviously.
“Jaxer seems to think your house will be safe enough, but he’s worried about the times when you’re away from the house. That’s why he insisted I talk to you before you left the school. He’s afraid this Boss will try to snatch Jon again sooner rather than later.”
“Well, hell.”
“Jaxer suspects he’s a sorcerer.”
“And you?”
“I’d have to get close enough to get his scent before I’d know. I don’t want to guess before I have all the facts.”
“You don’t like to plan for a sorcerer, get a necromancer, and end up fucked. Is that the idea?”
He chuckled. “Exactly.”
He reached for her, but she resisted, putting a hand on his chest to keep some space between them. The hall was going to fill with students at any minute. She’d be mortified if all those teenagers caught her and Deacon in a clinch when she was supposed to be this tough bodyguard.
She backed toward the classroom door. “The final bell is due to ring soon. I need to get back inside.”
He nodded, then he cocked his head to one side and frowned a little. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You’ve known Jaxer a long time? He was adamant that I come to the school to give you this message. He refused to come himself, but he insisted you needed to know about the Boss before you left. Why wouldn’t he come?”
“Oh that. You know how his greatest talent is with glamour? Well, a lot of kids can see through Fae glamour, even with someone as skilled as Jaxer. He might be able to fool one or two children at a time. In fact, he’s so good, he could probably fool four or five at once. But a whole school full of them? Never. One would spot him as a faery and raise the alarm. It only takes one to set off a sort of chain reaction and soon all of them can see past his disguise. So he avoids little kids like the plague.”
“Ah. What would he have done if I wasn’t around?”
“He would have found someone else I know and trust to deliver the message. He usually asks my friend Angie. She’s a green witch who works from home, so it’s easier for her to get away in the middle of the day.”
“I’m glad he tapped me this time. If he hadn’t, I probably would have invented some other excuse to come see you.”
She tried not to feel pleased. Really she did. “What are you going to do now?”
“Wait for you and Jon to finish. Then follow you home so you’ll have some extra help if anything happens.”
“You don’t have to—”
He raised a hand to still her protest. “Yes, I do.”
“I guess I’ll see you back at my house then?” She heard the anticipation and hope in her voice and groaned inwardly. That was so embarrassing.
“I’ll come in for a while. Before I have to get to the hospital.”
Sally wouldn’t know Deacon was shadowing her home. But Cary and Deacon both decided taking the precaution made sense. It would be entirely too easy for this mystery bad guy to use Sally against Jon. No point in giving him any extra leverage.
“Thanks for doing that,” she said.
“It’s my pleasure. I like Sally. She’s…formidable.”
Cary couldn’t agree more.
She returned to the classroom, trying not to cause any more disturbance than necessary. Despite her efforts, her reentry turned every eye toward her. Jonathon gave her a little finger wave. Then Mr. Young called the students’ attention back to the lesson. Minutes later, the final bell rang and the class erupted into cheerful noise.
She grabbed Jon by the collar as he tried to rush out the door and reeled him back. “Wait. We’ll leave when it’s less crowded.”
“Why?”
“Because,” she said in a low voice so only he could hear, “then I’ll only have to protect you if there’s someone out there waiting for you. If we get caught out in a crowd, I’m gonna have to try to protect a lot of people all at once, and that’s harder to do.”
“Can my friend Will come back to your place with us to hang out?”
“Don’t you have homework?”
“I got it done already.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Mr. Young just gave you an assi
gnment. When did you get a chance to do that?”
“I can do it later. In the morning.”
“And your mother would say?”
“She’d say yes.”
“Really? Okay, let’s give her a call and check.”
Jon grabbed her hand as she raised her cellphone. “Okay, fine.” He folded his arms over his chest and stared out the door. “Can’t have any fun,” he grumbled under his breath.
Cary had to work hard not to laugh. Teenagers were a funny species. Had she ever been that pouty? Probably.
When the noise from the hallway died down, she led Jon out of the class. Deacon was nowhere to be seen, so she assumed he’d gone back to his car. She checked the hall, waved goodbye to Mr. Young, and walked Jon to his locker.
They made it to the parking lot and were almost to her car when a kid in a long black coat stepped out from behind a van.
11
Long black coat? Great. Cary really didn’t want to know what was beneath all that material. Although, she had a pretty good idea.
She put Jon behind her. “Hi,” she said to the black coat.
The kid was probably only sixteen years old, tall and well built, but with skin much too white, so pale it was almost translucent. It was not a good look. His long, blond hair seemed clean and well-taken care of, but there was a manic fire in his pale blue eyes that didn’t bode well.
What was it with all the teenage bad guys this week? Black Coat looked even younger than Sheldon the wizard.
“Can we help you with something?” she asked him.
“I’m here for the kid.” His voice was deeper than she’d expected. “Don’t give me any trouble, lady.”
She shook her head. They always said stuff like that. Why did the bad guys always say such predictable crap? Maybe there was a school someplace where bad guys went to learn acceptable bad-guy-banter.
“Listen, lady,” Black Coat said, his voice rising, “I’m not gonna hurt the kid. I hear you’re a bodyguard, right? Well, there’s nothing you need to guard him from. Guy just wants to talk to him.”
