by Ashlyn Chase
He didn’t know if he was being rude by not introducing her to every firefighter in the bar, but if they were ever going to get out of there… Since she didn’t seem like she wanted to chat, he hoped he was reading the situation right.
“Yeah, yeah. We have eyes,” O’Rourke said as he brought over their drinks. “If I had a beauty like that, I’d rather spend my time with her too.” Several of the guys within earshot joined in with some good-natured ribbing and laughing.
Kizzy’s smile returned, and her olive skin pinked. She reached for the wine, and as soon as he had his beer, she held his free hand again. Noah picked up their clasped hands and kissed her knuckles. Then he turned toward the gathering and excused them.
Walking a few feet away, he asked, “Are you okay? You seem kind of shy.”
“That’s because I am kind of shy. I’ve always been an introvert.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have pictured you that way. But it’s fine. Don’t get me wrong, I can be a little shy in unfamiliar circumstances too.”
She loosened up during the time it took them to finish their drinks and was actually laughing and tossing back zingers when the guys were cracking jokes. Finally, he escorted her to the door and opened it for her, placing his hand on her lower back. He realized belatedly how possessive he was feeling. Hopefully, if she picked up on it, she didn’t mind.
“I didn’t make reservations for dinner, but it’s early, so most restaurants probably aren’t busy yet. Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Good. I’m famished.”
They reached the corner, and he hailed a taxi. When he had her safely inside, he sprinted around the back of the cab and got in.
“Is there any type of food you prefer, or anything you’d rather stay away from?”
“No. I can eat just about anything. I’m not especially adventurous though. No chocolate-covered bugs, please.”
He laughed. “There’s a nice American restaurant I like called Blu in the theater district. Do you know where it is?”
Kizzy said no, and the cab driver said yes.
Noah grinned. “Perfect. Let’s go there.”
Kizzy whispered, “I’m glad your friends didn’t think I was with Dante, since I was sitting next to him. Who knew he was going to talk a monkey down from the ceiling today?”
Noah didn’t know how to respond to that. “Yeah, that was pretty crazy. But hey, if anyone can charm the pants off anybody, even a monkey, it’s Dante.”
She laughed and let it drop. Thank the goddess.
When they arrived at the restaurant, he paid the cab driver, jumped out, and jogged around the back of the cab to open her door for her. His father had taught them all old-fashioned manners, and they seemed to be appreciated by refined women—like Kizzy.
“The restaurant is on the second floor.”
She preceded him up the stairs, and he couldn’t help staring at her perfect ass. How he wished he could cup those globes. Not yet, though. It was too soon for anything like that.
Their table was right next to the window, which looked out onto the neon lights of the various theaters and restaurants.
“This is a nice view,” Kizzy said.
“Not as nice as mine,” Noah said, and then he groaned. “Sorry. That sounded like something cheesy my brother would say.”
She laughed. “Yeah. That didn’t sound like you.”
“It’s not. But sometimes I wish I had all the smooth lines and cockiness to pull them off.”
“You don’t need them. In fact, I’m glad you don’t resort to that.”
They glanced at each other shyly. It was their first awkward silence, but it wasn’t horribly uncomfortable. He just chalked it up to two bashful people on their first date. Then they both started talking at once. And chuckled.
“You go first,” Noah said.
Kizzy took a deep breath. “I…I’m not sure how to begin. I think we should take things slow.”
“How slow?”
“Slooooooow.”
A waiter chose that moment to introduce himself and ask for their drink order. Noah ordered a vodka tonic. Something in Kizzy’s expression said he might need it.
After Kizzy had ordered a glass of wine, the waiter left, and Noah just stared at her.
She reached across the table and grasped his hand. “It’s not you.”
Noah groaned. “Oh great. Here comes the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ story.”
“No, it’s not me either! I’m afraid there’s some family drama going on right now. It’s a really, really bad time to start a relationship.”
Noah sat up straighter. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“That’s kind of you, but no. It’s one of those things that has to stay among family members.”
“I understand.” And sadly, he did. “We have family drama sometimes too.” Like when one of my brothers burns to death and reincarnates.
She tipped her head. “Drama? Like why your brother has a monkey who wears his girlfriend’s blouse and carries her purse?”
Noah’s jaw dropped. When he could speak again, he said, “The monkey was wearing Mallory’s top? And that thing around her neck was Mallory’s purse?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Are you sure?”
“I was admiring her JanSport crossbody bag when she sat down with us, and I noticed her blouse had cute little pin tucks. The girl has good taste. I guess the monkey does too.”
Noah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t see any of that.”
Kizzy was quiet, but he could sense her mind spinning.
“So, what happened to Mallory?” she asked.
Noah leaned back and frowned. “Damned if I know. Oh—sorry about the swearing. I know you don’t like it. If it weren’t rude as heck, I’d pull my cell phone out and call Dante right now.”
“Don’t. I’m sure there’s a good explanation, but I’m just as sure I won’t hear the truth even when you know it. Like we were saying before, family drama should stay within the family.”
He sighed. She was probably right.
And she was right about taking their relationship slow too. Both of them had family stuff going on. But he doubted she would understand his family stuff no matter how slow they took things. Sometimes, he wanted to fall on the double-edged sword of being paranormal.
Chapter 7
As Mallory was cuddling, Dante took a deep breath and said, “This may not be the most romantic topic, but I just thought of something.”
Oh well. The afterglow had to fade sometime. “What’s that?”
“The symptoms you’re experiencing, you said they only started recently, and you don’t have any weird family history. What if they’re the result of a curse? Or some kind of spell that backfired?”
“A spell? Like actual magic?”
“Yeah.”
Mallory sat up and the sheet slipped off of her. Dante’s eyes bugged out, as if he’d never seen breasts before. Is he salivating? She’d better get him back on track before he forgot what he was saying.
“Is there such a thing as a real curse?”
“Yeah, I think so. I know a couple of witches and a wizard. From what I understand—which isn’t a lot—curses are really frowned upon in magic today. Unfortunately, some people are unscrupulous—or sociopathic—and don’t care what happens to others.”
“What people?” Mallory asked. “Who could do something like that?”
“I guess there are a few who know how to dabble in black magic.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty nasty. It can backfire on the sender, but that’s not our problem. I think what we need to do is find someone who could identify and remove a curse if there is one.”
Speec
hless, Mallory just stared at him. The idea that someone would put a curse on her had never even crossed her mind. Why? She hadn’t done anything really terrible in her whole life. Who could wish her ill?
“I know it’s a long shot.” He cleared his throat and sat up. “I’m thinking of a wizard I’ve heard of. He has a good reputation as someone who knows what he’s doing and has high principles. Would you accept his help?”
“That depends. What if he’s nuttier than I am? A wizard? I’m pretty open-minded, especially now, but that doesn’t mean anything if I freak out over his abilities.”
“Don’t you want someone who has mind-blowing abilities? I’d want to know he can accomplish what needs to be done.”
She didn’t answer, because she wasn’t sure.
“Say something,” Dante pleaded.
“I’m thinking.”
“Look, I may be grasping at straws, but I want to help, and this possibility just popped into my head. You don’t have to…”
“I guess it would be worth looking into.” Before she chickened out, she said, “Call him.”
Dante bounded out of the bed. “I left my phone in your kitchen.”
As he pulled on his jeans, she had a good look at the well-muscled Adonis she’d just slept with. Now I’m salivating! She fetched her red satin robe from the closet and put it on as she followed him downstairs.
When Dante grabbed his phone off the kitchen floor, she was reminded of the passion they’d shared the moment they got in the door. She had never fallen this fast or this hard for anyone. It should have scared her, but it didn’t. She trusted Dante. She didn’t know why, but she did.
Dante pressed a couple of buttons on his phone, and moments later, he was speaking to one of his brothers. “Hi, Jayce. I’m looking for Kurt. Do you have his number?”
Jayce must’ve asked what he needed it for, because Dante frowned and said, “It’s kind of personal.”
He listened for a few seconds and then let out a deep sigh. “I need one of his special skills, if you know what I mean.”
He glanced at Mallory. “Yeah, I’m with my girlfriend. But she’s cool. She’s the one who needs his help.”
Dante glanced around the kitchen frantically, as if looking for something. Mallory guessed it might be pencil and paper. She pulled a notepad and pen out of her junk drawer. He smiled and took them.
“Can you repeat that number?”
He jotted down the phone number and said, “Thanks.” After a brief pause, he grinned at her, but he was still speaking to his brother. “Yeah, you’ll probably meet her at Sunday dinner sometime.”
Dante laughed and hung up. She wondered what his brother had said but figured it was none of her business. If he wanted to tell her, he would.
“I have the number, and Jayce thinks he’ll help us—especially if I mention that I’m his brother. Apparently, he hangs out at a tearoom on Charles Street. We can ask to meet him there.”
“A tearoom?”
“Yeah, I’ve never been there…or to any tearoom for that matter,” Dante said. “Is there anything I should know if we go there? Do I need to stick out my pinky finger while I’m sipping tea?”
She laughed. “I don’t think so, but I’d like to see that.”
* * *
Bored, Noah figured he’d rebuild his lab and try the alchemy formula again—only this time, he’d ban Dante from touching anything until he was completely ready and there to supervise. Going through the box of vials and beakers that had miraculously survived the blast, he wrote down the items he needed to replace.
No matter how he tried to distract himself, however, Kizzy kept returning to his mind. He couldn’t help wondering if his being a “mere firefighter” was working against him. Or if he might be too young for her. He had never asked her how old she was. He thought that was some kind of politically incorrect question these days.
Kizzy must be a little older than he was. She had to go to school for at least eight years out of high school, so that made her at least twenty-six. She was probably closer to Dante’s age. Unless she was one of those genius kids who graduated at fifteen. Even if she was still paying off student loans, she had the potential for making a lot more money than he ever would.
Glancing at his watch, he realized she’d be getting out of work soon. Did she really have family issues she had to take care of? The fact that she wouldn’t elaborate on what they were set off his inquisitiveness, and he needed answers when his curiosity was aroused.
He had to go out anyway to resupply his lab, so he had an excuse to nose around a bit…but he didn’t want to stalk her. At least, he didn’t want to get caught stalking her!
The answer was simple but not easy. Shift and fly above her. Most people never look up, but just in case, he’d need to disguise his red and yellow tail feathers. He could shop for supplies anytime. Right now, if he could catch sight of her leaving the ER, he could—ahem—tail her.
The apartment had a fireplace that hadn’t been used in years. The landlord made them sign an addendum in their contract, saying they wouldn’t light fires in it. He and Dante had already checked the inside and found it was full of creosote. Very flammable but perfect for covering colorful tail feathers. The dark gunk would stick like glue.
Noah opened the flue and stripped down naked. “Up the hatch.” Then he shifted and flew up the chimney, dragging his tail feathers against the filthy wall. Fortunately, being a paranormal and not a real bird, the extra weight on his feathers didn’t matter. He was stronger and could still fly, even bogged down with extra weight.
Thus disguised, he sailed over the Boston rush-hour traffic, wishing he could commute this way all the time. If paranormals were out of the closet, he could even carry his uniform in his powerful beak. Wouldn’t that be a sight to see!
Finding his way easily to Boston General, he perched in a tree by the staff parking lot. She’d said she commuted with her sister whenever possible. Hopefully, they’d come out together and get into one of these cars. Since her sister was a nurse, he bypassed the doctor’s exclusive parking spaces up front. He didn’t think she’d stand on ceremony and insist she’d earned the right to be there if she were riding in her sister’s car.
About half an hour later, Kizzy and Ruth emerged from the hospital and got into a Prius. Ruth was in the driver’s seat and Kizzy on the passenger side. Happily, it was a nice day, and they rolled down the windows. Now he could easily eavesdrop as well as follow them. Score!
“I just don’t understand why Dad wants us both to stay in his house until this threat has passed.”
That was Kizzy’s voice. Noah realized how little he knew about her. Where did she grow up? That house in Brookline where Dante said he’d picked her up? What schools did she go to? Were there others in her family he just hadn’t heard about yet? Their relationship had barely begun, and now it seemed to be on hold for the unforeseeable future. Damn. I finally found someone I can’t get out of my head, and something is wrong.
Was he really doing the right thing by following her? What if he slipped up later, and something came out of his mouth that she had told her sister—not him?
Ruth was speaking now. “Dad’s always been a worrywart. You know that. Besides, I really do think we’d be safer there with all the wards in place.”
Kizzy worried her lip. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Is everything okay between you and Gordon?”
“Oh yes! Totally.” Ruth sighed. “I may have downplayed the danger a bit. But he was fine with it. He said if I wanted to stay with my dad a few days, he could occupy himself with a new hobby.”
“What new hobby?”
Ruth shrugged. “I don’t know. He hadn’t mentioned anything before that. I was just grateful he didn’t mind my leaving, so I didn’t ask.”
After a long silence, Kizzy spoke again. “Yesterday, you s
aid someone was after the book. Are they gunning for us too?”
“I can’t be sure, but the malevolence and determination are there. I have the feeling they would stop at nothing to get that book.”
“Fudge!”
The women remained silent again for several minutes. Traffic was terrible, and Ruth may have been concentrating on driving rather than talking. He wished they would speak again. And he wished this traffic was moving faster. Circling above their car made him feel like a vulture.
When they picked up their conversation, he wanted to get close again. Landing on the roof gently, he was able to hear every word perfectly. He wanted to hear more about this danger.
“I hope this threat doesn’t last forever. I want to be able to relax in my own home.”
That was Kizzy talking. He wondered where her real home was. Dante had picked her up for the basketball game at a house in Brookline, someplace he described as a big brick house. Perhaps she had an apartment in someone else’s home. It struck him as odd that he didn’t know, but he’d have to let it go—for now. He wanted answers about this threat first.
“And I hope I don’t have to stay more than a day or two. My dear fiancé can’t boil water. He’ll miss my cooking.”
Kizzy chuckled. “I’m sure Gordon would miss you for more than that.”
“Oh yeah. I’ll miss him for that too.”
They laughed.
The traffic finally moved again. They made their way through Kenmore Square, heading toward Brookline. He imagined that being the daughter of a doctor, she may have grown up in one of the pricey mansions on the elite side of town. A big brick mansion.
Finally, just over the Boston-Brookline town line, they headed down a tree-lined side street with beautiful old homes. Some brick, some stone, all traditional. None were palatial or on acres of property. Pulling into the driveway of a modest brick colonial with pristine landscaping, they shut off the engine and got out. It was a home—probably three or four bedrooms, in contrast with some of the huge mansions he’d seen farther from the city.
Instead of going to the front door, they walked down the driveway and entered a side door. There was some kind of panel beside the door, and Kizzy poked a few buttons. Probably an alarm or keyless entry—or both.
