by Lauren Dane
“What’s bothering you other than the obvious?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet. I’m just, like I said, I don’t know yet. I didn’t like the debris pattern. The physical footprint of the explosion would depend on the type of device used. Bombers can have a fingerprint of a sort. Certain materials they use, a way of putting a bomb together, it can tell you who made it. I don’t know what that bomb was made of. It wasn’t discernable from what I was able to see. But they’re gathering all the debris and I’ll give it another look and hopefully know what the answer is.”
She told him about what she’d learned with the Devils, including their promise to pass on info about the old magics being used.
Then she told him about the way the bones and remains at the arson had simply disintegrated. “I’d have liked to put Martin in the pyre with Thena. David and I were going to have Carey cremated but I think he should...we should put him with Thena. He died in battle and it feels right to honor him like that.”
Clive took her hand a moment, bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles but said nothing. He knew that’s what she’d needed. He was pretty freaking much the best.
When they got into the house, she told David first thing that they were okay and then gave him all the details about the explosion that they knew up to that point. He glowered at her, but since they gave him all the information and they were both unharmed, he let it go and went off to make a pot of tea.
“You’re going to have to call Susan and tell her about the car bomb,” Clive told her when she’d come back out after a shower and changing into soft pants and a tank.
They’d skipped shower sex in lieu of a cup of tea, some biscuits and a bit of a snuggle.
“This has been one hell of an awful day for you, hasn’t it?” he murmured against her hair.
“It ranks up there, I must say. But I wasn’t in a coma this time and I didn’t need any Vampire blood. So there’s that.”
He tangled his fingers with hers and then stole a cookie from her plate with his free hand. “I’ll count that as a win on several counts.” He sighed and she snuggled into his side as she drank her tea.
“Tell me something happy.”
“The house will be ready for us to move into by early next week. I’ve had Alice working with David on furnishings as I know you aren’t much for furniture shopping.”
“Look, I like things. Shoes. Clothes. Art. Weapons. But if I could buy everything online and never have to deal with actual people I’d be a happy woman.”
“I do believe you would, darling. But then the world would be deprived of your sunny disposition.”
She flipped him off. “Genevieve says my stuff is safe. My clothes and shoes. David’s stuff. But he doesn’t want his furniture. Which is fair enough, considering. He and Carey spent a lot of time there and David said it was just too much.”
“I wish I could make this better,” he said.
“I wish my enemies weren’t killing all the people closest to me just to slap at me. I want them to come at me. Directly instead of acting like cowards. Cocks! That’s what they are.”
Clive growled. “I can’t go with you on the road to wishing they’d come directly at you. I wish you’d go stay with your father at the Keep for a while. You would have died in that car tonight. I can heal from just about anything given time and blood. You’re not like that.”
“She’s not. But that doesn’t make her weaker. It just means her strengths and cunning lie elsewhere,” Brigid spoke and Clive stiffened slightly.
He and Theo both got miffed when the Goddess jumped into conversations. Brigid didn’t give a fuck what either of them felt about it. She said what She wanted, whenever She wanted. To whomever She wanted.
On top of being badass, and something to aspire to, that manner, that confidence had bolstered Rowan more times than she could recall. No matter what. No matter how many people had disappointed her, She had always been there.
“I would never call you weak, Rowan. Nor would I call you fragile. Not mentally. Not emotionally. But you’re not immortal.” It was the very slight waver in his voice that betrayed his emotions.
“Neither are you. You can all be killed. It just takes a lot of effort and maybe magic in some cases.” She’d been aiming for lighthearted and missed.
He just took a deep breath and sipped his tea. Rowan was sure he was counting to fifty in his head.
Before it had only been Brigid. Then a handful of others she let herself love and trust. But this man was more than she’d ever felt like she had the ability to want.
“I know I frustrate you. But I can’t be anyone but who I am. This life is full of blood and broken bones. It used to be all I had was that. The job and the violence. And then you came along and things are different. Because I trust you. I love you.”
She twisted so that she faced him fully.
“When you love people, you open yourself up to so much pain. It makes you vulnerable. I live in shark infested waters. Vulnerable is dangerous. Loving me back is dangerous. But when I tell you I go out of my way to live, especially now, because I have you, you can trust me. I can’t run away. I can’t hide. These sorcerers killed Carey. And Thena and Martin. They tried to kill you. I have to ride this to the end.”
“I know.”
The tenderness on his features, the way he cupped her cheek gently brought tears pricking her lashes.
“I know who and what you are and I know you won’t leave. You’re a confounding creature, but inherently noble. Courageous. Stubborn.” He dragged his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’m here for you. With you,” he murmured, ferocity tingeing the words. “Over four hundred and a half years of my life and then you burst into my existence and nothing has ever been the same. I love you too. And I do trust you. I also wish you had a job that kept you out of range of car bombs.”
“I wish doughnuts didn’t have calories.”
He leaned in to kiss her quick. “My sword arm is always at your service. As for my heart, you’ve owned it since the first time you snarled at me.”
She snickered. “I’m gifted. What can I say?” She settled back against him, feet up, and thought about the situation again. “There’s a whole lot of stuff to unpack here. Sorcerers and Vampires working for the same person, but I don’t know if it’s for the same cause? Or if they know the real cause? Or what? Why is all this happening? What’s the end goal?”
“I expect power. Power is usually the end goal to most things. The reason for most things. But the details are what’s missing, I agree.”
“They’ve managed to break several of our most sacred laws of protection. They killed an acolyte. They killed a human. They killed my employee in my home. They tried to kill a Scion. Not to mention the attempt to kill David and all the assassination attempts on me.”
“Speaking of that, I need to call your father. The other Scions have been notified but I thought you might be there with me when I told him. Then he’d be assured of your safety.”
And not go nuclear and kill half the planet because he thinks you’ve been killed.
“Sure. Yeah. Let’s do that.” Rowan wanted to keep Theo calm. Keep him stable. If he got overexcited the consequences could be disastrous. And when he learned of the continued leaks he was going to be pissed. “I’ll leave it to you to brief him on the leak? Or do you want me to run interference?”
“You must love me to offer that.” He kissed the top of her head.
“I’m only with you for the size of your dick. And maybe your kooky mother.”
“Speaking of my parents. My father is going to do some digging around for me. As for speaking to The First about the leak business, I was thinking to address it with Nadir first.”
“That’s a good idea. Both things, actually. Your father would have a lot of weight in the Nation. And Nadir can mediate Theo’s moods better. She
’ll tell him in her own way, in the right time. But it’s daylight there now so I’d suggest sending a text to her that we’re all right and will contact Theo once it’s dark so I can speak with him. She’ll pass it along when he wakes.”
He squeezed her before he grabbed his phone from the nearby low table and began to type out a text to Nadir.
Chapter Eleven
Rowan was up six hours later with only minor soreness left. She checked her messages while still lying in her bed.
She noted a familiar number and sat up better to listen to the voicemail.
“This is Detective Elroy from the Las Vegas police department. We need to interview you regarding a recent criminal incident. Return my call to let us know a time.”
Detective Elroy. Not Jack. Two years later and it still hurt. He’d been a friend. More than that at one time. And then he’d found out what she was while she was on a case to try to find his missing ex-wife. He’d found it easier to blame that death on Rowan than on the fact that his ex had a major drug problem and had been hanging out in all the wrong places.
She’d successfully avoided him since then. At least the pain of his rejection had lessened over time.
She left a note for Clive and after getting dressed and then checking in with David, who was in the middle of compiling data, she headed into the city to see Detective Elroy.
Normally, if she was in town and it was roughly lunchtime, she’d have texted Thena to see if she wanted to grab some food.
Rowan frowned, that ache still dull and throbbing in the back of her skull.
Things hadn’t changed from the last time Rowan had come into the police department. Same sketchy humans jittering around either waiting to be taken into jail, waiting to pick someone up from jail or waiting to deal with the authorities in some manner.
They rarely looked excited to be where they were.
She approached the main desk and asked for Jack, telling them her name.
He played games though and made her wait half an hour. She knew he wasn’t doing anything, he just wanted to yank her chain.
So she continued to look down at her phone, dealing with her work until he had to say her name louder and come all the way out to where she was.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said and neither of them believed it. The warm and funny guy she knew was long gone and in his place, a spiteful, small-hearted man had settled.
She just sighed. “What do you need, Detective?”
He indicated an interview room and she followed him in. Not knowing if there was anyone on the other side of the two-way mirror, but also knowing he would be taking his life into his own hands if he ever let it be known that Vampires existed.
She wasn’t in the trusting Jack Elroy game anymore. He was a potential enemy now so she’d act as if they were being recorded because that was the only way she could control the situation.
“You’re aware your friend Thena’s house burned down yesterday,” Jack said without preamble.
“Yes. I was on my way over to see her with another friend of ours when we arrived at the scene.”
They’d know she’d called Thena’s cell looking for her and there was no use lying about something so easily verified.
“You don’t seem sad about it.”
Oh fuck this guy. As if she’d share her emotions with him? “You don’t get to make any proclamations about how I feel about anything. I take it you needed to ask me some questions about it?”
“Touchy.”
“You just pointed out that one of my dearest friends, no, two of my dearest friends, died in a fire yesterday. One you know for sure wasn’t just some regular old toaster short. Not even a regular old arson.”
“People seem to die around you,” he said.
She looked him in the eyes. “If you’re done playing games and pretending your ex wasn’t turning tricks for meth and it got her dead, I can tell you what I know about Thena and Martin.”
He flinched and for a petty moment she felt good.
“Where have you been for the last several weeks?” he asked.
“On a work trip to several European cities. The last time Thena and I connected was a week ago. During that call there was nothing of note that I can recall. Then two nights ago—Wednesday going into Thursday—I texted her to say I was coming back to Las Vegas and wanted to see her and catch up. I texted some more. Called. Came by when I got back. That was Thursday early afternoon. No one was home. I have a key. I went inside and left a note that I’d been there. Then yesterday the fire.”
“You weren’t worried she didn’t call you back?”
“Not at first. Like I said, I’d just spoken to her last week and we’d been in regular enough contact before that. Sometimes she and Martin would go off on romantic getaways. But she always texted me back. Even if it was to say buzz off, I’ll call you later.”
“Was there anyone you could think of who’d be a threat to her? Other than you?”
She gave him a look full of loathing. “There was nothing. Nothing that she told me anyway and she and I shared a lot. The neighborhood is okay enough. Ten years ago it was great and then the economy tanked and a lot of houses were empty. There were the usual problems, but none that involved them directly. Martin was a really nice man who loved his wife. He liked his job. You knew her. She was full of life and energy. Most people liked her immediately. I don’t know who’d do this.”
Which was true. She didn’t know who’d done it. She had an idea. She knew some general stuff she’d never share with Jack. But she didn’t know exactly who’d done it.
He tried to trip her up, but his heart wasn’t really in it. He had known Thena and had liked her. He might have hated Rowan, but he knew she’d never do anything to hurt her friend.
Not on purpose anyway.
After another hour of his questions, she left the police station and forced herself to leisurely stroll back to the car.
She grabbed lunch to take back to the house, where David was still working and so happy to be interrupted with a burrito the size of his head.
“How’d it go with Jack? Or do you not want to talk about it?” he asked her.
“He was a dick. But he won’t come up with anything, even if he knows I’m not telling him the whole truth.”
“Not like he could handle it anyway. What?” he asked at her look. “He treated you like garbage. Because he couldn’t face reality. He’s a coward and not worthy of the friendship you’d given him.”
Rowan shrugged and changed the subject before she did something embarrassing like cry. “Did you find out anything good today?”
“I took your suggestion and began to look for paranormals who’ve gone missing. Starting in Venice as point A, I’ve found a few interesting things. Witches who’ve gone missing. Powerful ones but indie witches.”
Outside the protection of a coven or another group, indie witches had less rules, but also less protection.
“Let’s send this to Genevieve. See if she might know anything about it.”
“Good idea. I’m just running some checks in the background if you’d like to spend some time training me.” He smiled at her, dimple showing.
“You’re a menace with that dimple.”
“So I’ve been told. I’m getting better with handguns, but I need more work with blades. You’ve been teaching me how to do all sorts of other stuff, it seems only fitting you teach me swordwork.”
“I have been teaching you swordwork.”
“Okay, so more lessons.” He popped up. “I’ll go get my blades and meet you in the garage.”
She got rid of the trash from lunch and headed to change before kicking her valet’s ass.
* * *
Clive came to consciousness and lay for a moment, breathing in slowly, noting everything around him. No danger painted the air, though
Rowan’s sadness did. That’s what had him getting up and heading in to shower.
After he noted that she and David were training, he took a quick trip, found himself some food and came back just as they were winding down.
That’s when he saw the note she’d left for him earlier and grabbed it to see what she’d been up to during daylight hours.
Jack.
He was still frowning when she came in from the garage and saw him. “Frowning already?” she teased.
He put the note down and held a hand her way. “Good evening, wife.”
She rolled her eyes but came to him, bending to kiss him quickly.
“Tell me about your day,” he said as she settled at the table next to him with a glass of juice.
“Trained David. He’s getting much better with blades and hand-to-hand. Not afraid to get bruised up while he learns to be better. He’s back on his computer doing searchy, hackery type stuff now. He found some information about missing witches and passed it on to Genevieve.” Rowan chewed her lip as she thought. “This is growing like a sinkhole. Connecting to other problems with other groups. These dickbags are picking fights with everyone.” She turned her gaze to his. “It’s reckless.”
Clive enjoyed this interplay between her job and his. She was smart about finding strange little threads, sometimes even just an absence of something that should have been there, that tended to unravel her enemy.
Shoptalk, she called it.
“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” If this enemy had only targeted one group, the others might stand back as long as possible, or for good, until that feud had found its victor.
Just because they were all supernatural didn’t mean they liked one another. Or had great relations. There was a great deal of passive-aggressive cold war trifle between Vampires and the Hunter Corp. who served as a voice for the humans who didn’t even know they existed. Witches tended to do their own thing. Within their ranks there were myriad subgroups. All with their own perspectives. A lot more independent magic practitioners as well.
It took a lot for them to all come together across those lines. So they usually didn’t unless they had little other choice.
