She shrugged and straightened. “I am not irritated anymore. Overwhelmed, perhaps. You’ve built an empire. It’s wonderful, truly. And apparently, you climbed Mount Olympus and found the perfect goddess to manage the hotel for you. It’s all amazing, and . . . wonderful. I’ve had your exclusive attention to myself for nearly a month, and I suppose I was feeling proprietary.” She flashed a glance in his direction. “My mistake, not yours.”
He stared at her, mouth slack. Ah. So that was it. He slowly started to laugh. She whipped her gaze back to him with a frown, and he didn’t imagine he’d ever seen anything more wonderful. Still laughing, he reached for her hand and yanked her toward him, catching her up close, her legs sprawled atop his. She was clearly still out of sorts, and he made an effort to rein in his humor. His smile lingered, and he rubbed his nose against hers.
“A goddess from Mount Olympus,” he mused. “Why did I not see it?”
“I find it hard to believe you didn’t realize you’d employed a goddess from Mount Olympus.”
“No, I didn’t realize you were experiencing the same infuriating emotion I’ve battled for the last month.”
Her mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Mmm-hmm. Let us reflect on our voyage wherein I had to watch you become acquainted with other handsome gentlemen, watch you charm other handsome gentlemen, watch other gentlemen fall all over themselves to gain your attention and approval, fight back the urge to become violent with certain other gentlemen whom even Samson identified as potential rivals for my affection . . . shall I continue?”
“What on earth?”
“Why do you think I insisted we say grace that one night? Because Lewis had you eating from the palm of his hand and I wanted to throw him overboard. I wanted to shut him up, and it was the only thing I could think of. And then before I knew it, you had turned Crowe around—although that was to the benefit of everyone, so I cannot complain too much about it.”
A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “You said grace . . .”
“Yes!” He was disgruntled at the memory. “And that was after knowing you for a day! Can you imagine what the rest has been like for me?”
She laughed softly and touched her forehead to his. “I am so sorry for being petty. This place—it is incredible.”
“I find myself craving your approval.”
“I feel anxious taking the time to enjoy it. I ought to be out gathering information on Malette.”
“I can help with that. I’ll ask some contacts, see what we can overturn.”
She met his eyes. This close, he could see the flecks of yellow and blue in the green of hers. Her gaze flicked to his lips, and it was the signal he’d been waiting for. He ran his hand along the nape of her neck and pulled her to him, meeting her lips with his and reveling in her sigh of contentment. He kissed her with every pent-up emotion that had consumed him from the moment he’d demanded her ray gun and she’d refused to relinquish it. All the attraction, frustration, jealousy, fear, and longing of the past weeks poured from him, and he never wanted to come up for air. If he kissed her for an eternity it wouldn’t be long enough.
She wound her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his hair. He crushed her to him, unable to get close enough. He trailed his lips along the line of her jaw to the softness of her neck, to the sensitive spot behind her ear.
I love you, he thought. I love you and want to be by your side every day for the rest of my life. I want to grow old with you. I want to see you carrying a child and feel the satisfaction of knowing it’s mine. I want to love you with everything I am until the end of time . . .
If he didn’t tell her soon, he would explode. He needed to say the words, needed for her to know.
“Isla . . .”
She sighed, and it was nearly his undoing.
“I . . .”
A knock sounded at the door, and he froze. She breathed as though winded, her hands tangled in his hair as his face rested against her neck.
The knock repeated, and he bit back a curse.
“I’ll get it,” she whispered.
“I’m going to kill someone,” he muttered.
She pulled back, then looked at him, her smile wicked. “One more.”
He nearly groaned. “One more.” He kissed her again and held her tight when she moved to stand. He let her wrestle free, and she stood with a breathless laugh and straightened her clothing. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her down again, planting a quick kiss on her before she squirmed away.
Her cheeks were flushed beyond her sunburn, and she threw him a recriminating look with widening eyes as she made her way to the door. She paused, tucking strands of hair behind her ears and smoothing her braid, and then opened the door.
“A treat for Monkey, compliments of the Port Lucy Inn.” The steward’s voice sounded in the hallway, and Daniel couldn’t decide whether to throttle Lia or thank her. The timing was a combination of rotten and fortunate. There was much at stake, and as Daniel had told himself numerous times over the past several days, Isla needed to find the cure, and quickly.
Isla accepted the tray from the steward with a smile, and his stomach clenched. He had no business tying her to someone who flinched at the sound of firecrackers and still had nightmares like a child, but he couldn’t let her go.
“Monkey, look!” She held the tray down as Monkey raced to her side from the bedroom. Daniel feared he’d find the mosquito netting in shreds or the tissue paper in the bathroom strung from the chandeliers.
“Dr. Cooper!” Quince’s voice sounded in the hallway and Daniel shook his head, rueful. He clearly wasn’t about to get Isla back on the couch anytime soon. Between the plantain-snarfing primate and Isla’s entourage of shape-shifting fans, the moment had passed. He would express his feelings to her later, perhaps after they’d located Malette. She needed to remain focused; they both did.
There was a bright spot in the day, if nothing else. The mighty, accomplished, brilliant Dr. Isla Cooper had been jealous of Lia. A smug, satisfied smile crossed his face, and he didn’t bother to hide it. Isla hadn’t said she loved him, but for now, it was enough. Until she was out of the proverbial woods, he’d take whatever he could get.
Port Lucy’s bustling activity slowed that night as the hour approached eleven. Daniel stifled a yawn as he exited his offices on the hotel’s main level. He would meet in the morning with one of his partners, Montez Azacca, who was Port Lucy’s lieutenant governor and one of the finest people Daniel knew. The city experienced its share of growing pains, but with steady governance and respectable law enforcement, the problems remained manageable and the people safe. Port Lucy’s populace was as varied as the flowers that lined her streets and grew wild in the tangled underbrush and swamps. Daniel not only appreciated the diversity but felt it was necessary to the success of the area.
The diverse community was what Daniel hoped would aid in the search for Malette. The other gentlemen had accompanied Isla when she had gone out not long after those few stolen moments he’d had with her on the sofa, and she’d made multiple purchases under the guise of gathering information. Lewis had told Daniel later he was impressed with her approach. She was subtle, read people well, and more often than not, she pulled information from even the least talkative of individuals.
Regrettably, however, they learned nothing specific about Malette. They would need an inside source, someone with access to secret information. Thinking about that, Daniel checked his pocket watch and went in search of Lia. Odds were she had already left for the day, but she did stay late sometimes, and he was rewarded for his efforts when he found her in the restaurant kitchens, speaking with the chef and his two assistants.
“We’ll finish in the morning,” she told the chef, and turned to Daniel with a notebook in hand. Lia outworked most people Daniel knew, and he considered himself fortunate to have her in his empl
oy.
Lia had been a young teen when Daniel had first met her, the daughter of a prostitute who lived on the streets. Lieutenant Governor Azacca’s wife had a soft spot for those others saw as “lost causes” and had taken on Lia as a maid. She’d discovered the girl’s quick mind for numbers and organizational thinking, and by the time Daniel had returned from India and construction was well underway on the Port Lucy Inn, Lia had matured and learned enough to become one of the most well-respected business managers in the community.
“You should know Dr. Cooper compared you to a goddess,” Daniel told her as they left the kitchens and made their way to the front lobby.
Lia’s laugh filled the foyer. “Bless her, that is just what I needed to hear.”
“Life is treating you well, I hope?”
She smiled. “It is.”
“I wonder if you can help me find someone. Or perhaps you know someone who could point me in the right direction.”
“I’ll certainly try. Who are you looking for?”
They reached the front desk and Daniel leaned on the counter. “I do not know much, unfortunately. She is a witch, I believe a practitioner of Dark Magick, and apparently has ties to the area, perhaps family. Her name is Malette.”
Lia raised a single brow. “I do not know her personally, but I recognize the name. Or the reputation behind the name.”
“And what is that?”
“Not good.” Lia paused. “I wonder . . . Do you remember Tante Sabine?”
“She looked after you before Mrs. Azacca hired you?”
Lia nodded. “We all called her ‘tante’ despite the lack of relation. She knows everything about everyone who has ever lived here.” She smiled. “She is a witch herself, but Light Magick only.”
“Have you kept in contact with her?”
“Yes. I take her food and supplies, visit with her weekly. She still operates a small voodoo shop down the street. How soon do you need this information about Malette?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “As soon as possible. Time is not in our favor.”
She frowned. “Are you in trouble? What is this about?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. But I must know as much as I can learn of her, and most importantly, where to find her.”
“Then we should talk to Tante Sabine immediately. We can see her now, if you wish.”
“Now?”
Lia nodded. “She is an insomniac, always has been. She opens the doors to her shop for afternoon teatime and is up all night. In fact, we are better off speaking to her now rather than trying to rouse her in the morning. She will be so happy. She loves to hear herself speak, so asking her questions will make her feel important.”
Daniel paused, thinking. If the old woman loved to talk, it may take some time to get the information he needed from her. Which meant he couldn’t invite Isla to attend as she would be out past midnight. “I need to invite one other person, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Let me put these notes away and retrieve my reticule. I’ll return straightaway.”
While Lia left, Daniel telescribed Lewis. Have potential information on M. Are you able to join me?
Lewis agreed, and within minutes emerged from the lift. “Why the late hour?” he asked, shrugging into his jacket.
Daniel explained the situation as Lia returned with a hat, shawl, and reticule. Daniel made the introductions, and Lia led them out of the hotel and into the balmy night.
“She is old, but still as lucid as the day I first met her.” Lia led them down the street, past a tavern, a boutique, and a bakery. She crossed the street, and they passed the theater, which was still crowded despite the late hour, then the post office and a printing shop. The next building bore a small sign that read Tante Sabine’s Voodoo Emporium and featured a hand pointing at the front door.
“I telescribed to be sure she’s available,” Lia said and unlocked the front door with a key from her reticule.
“She has a busy schedule, then?” Lewis asked, and Lia shot him a look as if trying to assess his level of sincerity.
“He is sarcastic by nature,” Daniel told her. “He cannot help himself.”
She gave Lewis a wry smile. “Do not judge by the cover—or age, in this case. She does readings and meets with clients all hours of the night.”
They followed her into the darkened store and walked past shelves of scented oils and gris-gris bags. They reached a flight of stairs that led to the second-floor apartment. Lia knocked on the door, and at a response from within, opened it to reveal a cozy sitting room and a small woman seated at a table that overlooked the street.
“I saw you comin’,” the old woman said. “You have questions for Tante Sabine.”
Lia closed the door and took coats and hats. She crossed the room and kissed the woman on the cheek with an affectionate smile. “Tante, this is Daniel Pickett and his friend, Adam Lewis. They have questions about Malette, and I didn’t know enough to tell them much of anything.”
Tante Sabine raised a brow that disappeared into her wrinkled forehead. Her skin was the color of deep roasted coffee, and her hair was as white as snow. Daniel had met her once before years earlier, and she hadn’t aged a day. Either that, he reasoned, or she’d been ancient then.
She invited them to sit at the table with her. “But get tea from the kitchen,” she told Lia. “Our guests need tea.” Her aged voice was strong, her lyrical island accent rising and falling in a familiar cadence.
Daniel nodded, figuring any protestation would fall on deaf ears. “Tea would be lovely.”
“Malette,” Tante Sabine said, shuffling a deck of cards in hands arthritic with age. “Why on earth would you be wantin’ to know about that one?”
“She cast a spell on a friend,” Daniel said, wasting no time, “and we are looking for the cure. We understand it must come from either her or her notes and supplies.”
Tante Sabine nodded and eyed Lewis as she continued to shuffle the cards. “You have witch blood.”
Lewis blinked in surprise, but nodded. “My mother.”
“I can smell it on you.”
“Well, that’s lovely.”
Daniel considered kicking him under the table but figured the old woman could probably see through solid objects.
Tante Sabine sighed. “Malette’s mother was from the islands, her father French. The mother practiced the Light Magick, but Malette was impatient, wanted power right away. She turn quickly, not even a teen.” Tante Sabine’s brow wrinkled. “Broke her mama’s heart.”
Lia entered, carrying a tea tray, and she poured while Tante Sabine continued.
“Malette travel the world and fall in love with Paris and with a Frenchman whose father was English. They had a child together, a son. She doted on him, thought he was the most precious thing.” She shook her head. “But created a monster, she did. And then her lover died, so Malette come home with the boy.”
Tante Sabine sipped her tea. “By now, Malette’s mother had died, so Malette and the boy moved into the family estate.” She waved a gnarled hand. “Huge crumbling monstrosity of a house deep in the swamp on the peninsula. We saw her in town often, showin’ off the boy. She take a man as a husband sometime later and had another son, but the husband disappeared, and she never explained where he had got to.” She lifted a single brow again, a telling, ageless expression.
“As the older boy neared twenty, he fancied himself a lothario—seduces more girls than you could count! And then shifter attacks start to occur during the Full Moon Phase when we hadn’t seen any for years. Shifters who come here to live are fleeing violence, not causing it.” Again, the eyebrow lifted.
“Townsfolk begin to notice that the girls Malette’s boy paid attention to would disappear or turn up dead, throats ripped out during the full moon. So Malette packed up the boys, boarded up the
house, and moved them to England. Said she wanted to reconnect her son with his father’s English family. Younger boy must have been a teen. Quiet as a mouse, that one. Always watching, always in his brother’s shadow. Malette had little use for him, but she kept him as the spare, I guess.
“They were gone ten years, maybe twelve, and then Malette returned. Just last year, it was. Alone. They say the older son kills one too many people and was finally caught. He was arrested, and Malette puts the younger son on a board to influence the outcome of his brother’s trial. Government something.”
Daniel heard Lewis’s sudden indrawn breath, and he sat forward in his chair, his heart thudding. “A government committee? Was it the Predatory Shifter Regulation Committee?”
Tante Sabine nodded. “Yes, that was it. But the younger boy fails, he does. Malette’s special boy was hanged, and she flies into a rage. Malette vowed revenge on the one who brought him down.”
Daniel felt sick as he remembered Isla’s retelling of her conversation with Nigel on the beach. Daniel had shared the news with Lewis. “What was the older son’s name?”
“Gladstone.” The name hung heavy in the air.
Lewis paled. “And the younger son—is his name Crowe?”
Tante Sabine started in surprise. “You know him, then? Yes, Crowe. His father was Romany. Black hair and eyes, had the look of a crow about him. His son was a mirror image.”
Daniel swore under his breath and stood. “Malette resides in her family home on the peninsula, you say?”
She nodded.
“I apologize for my rudeness, but I’m afraid we must go.”
Lia followed them to the door. “What is it?”
“I’ll explain later. Thank you, and I’ll return with a gift for Tante Sabine.”
“Tante Sabine, she adore chocolate, young Mr. Pickett,” the woman called from the table.
He flashed a tense smile. “Chocolate it shall be.” He jogged down the stairs, Lewis on his heels, and checked his pocket watch. It was past midnight. He had every reason to believe Isla was safe in her bed, but a cold chill snaked up his spine and settled in deep.
Kiss of the Spindle Page 20
