by Jasmine Walt
I wanted to, I really did, but at the moment, it seemed impossible. Maybe Garuda had been right. Maybe my emotions were written on my face, because Eamon seemed to pick up on what I was thinking.
“Anything is possible with a little faith, effort, and time,” Eamon said softly.
I exhaled and nodded. “I’ll try.”
His gaze was suddenly speculative. “You and Ajitah seem to work well together.”
I recognized the undertone to the statement, one that immediately had my back up. “Yeah, we do. And don’t worry, there’s nothing romantic between us.”
“But you want there to be.”
I opened my mouth to deny it but changed my mind. What was the point in lying? “I don’t know what I want.”
Eamon smiled. “When I met your mother, there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted her. If you’re not sure, then maybe he isn’t for you. Best to put it to rest before you hurt him.”
“How am I supposed to know what I truly feel when you asked me to steer clear of him?”
“Yes, I did. But do you think I’d have been able to keep you apart if you’d really wanted him?”
I hated that he was right. There was more to my confusion than worrying about the health of our work dynamic—a certain almost-god who had to fight the desire to kill me every time we were together was also part of my confusion.
“I’ve seen the way Ajitah looks at you, and I know you’re not blind to it. I understand the allure, Malina. He seems safe, but you weren’t built for a normal, safe life. If you were forced to live it, you’d suffocate.”
His words resonated inside me, touching at a truth I refused to accept. So what if I wasn’t human? It didn’t mean I couldn’t have a slice of normal. Best to shut down this line of conversation.
I held up a DVD. “Let’s watch this.”
“The Matrix?”
“Yeah.” Action, mind-bending graphics, and very little romance.
Eamon chuckled. “Which pill would you have chosen?”
In the past, I’d have always said the red pill, because who wanted to live in a fantasy world? Best to wake up to reality, but now . . . I wasn’t so sure.
4
I climbed the steps to Aaron’s fifth-floor apartment. The building was situated on the outskirts of Soho, a relatively quiet spot with an aerial tramway less than seven minutes away. The lift was in use, and I couldn’t be bothered to wait. Besides, with my new agility and stamina, five flights of stairs were a breeze. I climbed the whitewashed stairwell to his floor and headed down the corridor past navy-blue door after navy-blue door until I was standing outside his flat. I was about to knock when the lift to my right pinged and slid open.
“Malina!” Carmella spilled out and bounded toward me, arms outstretched.
As far as hugs went, Carmella gave the most heartfelt ones, and I found myself relaxing into her.
We broke apart, and she pinched my cheek. “You didn’t respond to half my messages. What the heck?”
There was no excuse. I’d been busy and put off responding, but then I’d forgotten to reply altogether. I felt like the gum on the bottom of a shoe. “Forgive me?”
She narrowed her eyes. “If you weren’t a superhero in training, I’d give you a smack upside the head.”
The door to Aaron’s flat flew open, and a pretty little brunette with smudged kohl and bouncy hair tumbled out. She stopped short at the sight of us, her kiss-me lips pinching. She turned and spat a string of curses into the room. Carmella took a wary step back, and I joined her.
The brunette turned on us. “I hope you choke on his massive cock!” And then she was striding toward the lift, head held high.
She boarded the lift and gave us the finger as the doors slid shut.
“Wow.” Carmella pushed back her shoulders and stepped over the threshold to Aaron’s flat. Chuckling softly, I followed.
“Has she gone?” Aaron peered out from the bathroom.
“She’s gone.”
He ran a hand over his face. “My God, she is seriously crazy.”
“What the heck happened?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Everything was fine. We met up last night, came back here, got intimately acquainted, and snuggled. This morning, when I told her I had two female friends coming over, she went nutso.” He threw up his hands and plonked his butt on the black leather sofa. “The fucked-up thing is I really liked this one. Like proper liked. She knows all about my sluttish ways and was willing to give me a shot. We’ve been seeing each other for a month, and now I find out she’s insane.” He leaned forward and covered his face with his hands.
Carmella and I shared a look. Did he honestly not get it?
“I thought you were the fanny whisperer?” I said.
Carmella almost choked on her indignation. “Malina!”
I held up my hands, palms upward. “What? It’s what he claims, and yet he’s too stupid to figure out that she may have misinterpreted the situation.”
Aaron dropped his hands from his face, his mouth parting as he caught on. “Shit, she thought that you two were my female friends.”
Carmella rolled her eyes. “And the penny drops.”
He stood up. “Are you sure?”
“Well, she did tell us to choke on your massive cock as she left, so . . .”
“Shit!” He grabbed his jacket and keys. “Look, make yourselves at home. I’ll be back in a bit. I gotta go sort this.”
He was out the door before either of us could reply.
Carmella shrugged off her coat and threw it over a nearby chair before heading to the kitchen. “I’ll get us some wine.”
“It’s barely one in the afternoon.”
“Yeah. So?”
I shrugged and made myself comfy on the sofa.
I liked Aaron’s flat. It was in a decent part of the city, inexpensive but safe and clean. His parents had died a few years ago, leaving him a small inheritance that he’d used to buy this place. He’d kept it simple with the magnolia walls, a few artsy paintings, a fluffy rug, flat-screen television, leather sofas, and a neat, modern kitchen equipped with the necessary appliances. Aaron actually liked to cook. He said it was a necessary skill in order to woo a woman, and goodness knows he did a lot of wooing. Although if his actions today were anything to go by, he may be changing his ways soon.
Carmella returned with a bottle of white wine and two glasses. She set them on the coffee table and dropped down on the sofa next to me. I poured and handed her a glass.
“So, how are things at the mansion?” she asked.
“Okay, but busy. We’re tracking a vamp at the moment.”
“Ooh, do tell.”
I filled her in on the latest case and the one before that. Before I knew it, we were on to the topic of my love life, or lack thereof.
“So you and Ajitah still haven’t . . .” She made a circle with her left index finger and thumb and then poked her right finger through it.
“Classy.”
“Seriously, though. He’s gorgeous, funny, and you said he’s a great dad, caring and all that stuff a woman wants.”
I smiled. “Yeah, he really is.”
“Then what’s stopping you? And don’t give me this whole got-to-keep-things-professional crap, because when has that ever been an issue?”
I took a huge gulp of my wine. “I don’t know. Every time I think I should just do it, just grab him and kiss him, something stops me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Something—or someone named Garuda?”
I took another gulp of wine.
“Honey, have you forgotten the fact he tried to kill you!”
“That wasn’t his fault.”
“No, it wasn’t his fault he lost control, but destroying the scroll doesn’t change his nature. It also doesn’t alter the fact that every time he’s around you, he has to fight the urge to hurt you.”
She leaned back and took a sip from her glass.
She was right, but there was a part of
me that didn’t care. That portion reveled in the dangerous attraction.
“At least he’s doing the right thing now and staying away,” Carmella said.
I winced. “He’s back.”
Carmella choked on her wine, and I reached over to pat her back.
“Shit, Malina. Did you see him? What did he say?”
“I haven’t spoken to him. Eamon told me he wanted to come and work with us again.”
“Tell me you said no.”
“I said not yet.”
Carmella locked eyes with me for a long beat and leaned forward to put her glass on the coffee table.
“Look, I’ve never been in your position. The only guy I really like doesn’t feel the same way, but you have two guys who clearly care about you, and you . . . you care about them. It happens. It is possible to have a thing for two people at once, but you need to be smart. Your life is important; you are important. You deserve to be happy and safe.” She gave me her most probing look. “Promise me you’ll be careful around Garuda. That you’ll listen to your instincts.”
“But that’s just it . . . my instincts tell me to run.”
“Then it’s not right. You’re not ready, and you may never be. You can’t fight nature, Malina. If you try, you’ll end up burning yourself out and possibly losing the other great guy in your life in the process. Ajitah is amazing, but I doubt even he’ll wait forever.”
“I think I liked it better when I was an assassin and relationships weren’t an option at all. This is the last thing I need. I need to focus on saving people, not worry about my love life.”
“You’re a hellhound, Malina. One day, you’ll need to produce an heir. So your love life is kinda important.”
She was right, of course. Being immortal gave me more time in the role of gatekeeper, but the hellhound side of me would eventually burn out. I would need an heir to take over one day.
Carmella squeezed my thigh. “Don’t dwell on it now. Listen to your gut and your heart, and let your instincts guide you.” She stood and headed for the kitchen, returning a moment later with a huge bag of crisps and a packet of peanuts.
I tore open the crisps and dove in before handing her the bag. “How’s life at the guild? Am I missed?”
Carmella nodded. “Devi and Constance ask about you all the time.”
“And Barrett?”
Carmella shook her head. “He barely leaves his office when he’s there. The guy is a shadow of his former self.”
I felt a twinge of guilt but squashed it. He’d made his feelings about me clear, and I needed to let him go. “I may have to come back to visit soon.”
“You should. It doesn’t matter that you’re no longer an assassin; you’ll always be family to the guild.”
“I doubt Barrett would agree.”
“Why wouldn’t he? Look, Malina, he fucked up royally, but he was taken advantage of, too. This entity capitalized on his grief, his desperation.”
I swallowed, unable to look at her because she was right yet again. “Who the heck died and made you so wise, eh?”
Carmella snorted. “I’m not wise, just objective is all.”
I stared across at her. “No. You’re wise, beautiful, kind, and wonderful.”
She flushed. “Shut up.”
I reached over and hugged her. “I love you, chick.”
A key in the door alerted us to Aaron’s return. We broke apart as he entered, a huge grin on his face.
“All sorted?” Carmella asked.
He rubbed his hands together. “Yep. Now where’s the beer?”
We drank, ate, and chatted late into the afternoon.
“Stay the night,” Aaron said, flashing us his sad, puppy-dog eyes. “We could watch movies and cuddle on the sofa . . .”
I shoved a handful of peanuts into my mouth.
“Wouldn’t you rather have your new lady love over to play with your massive cock?” Carmella asked.
I choked, and Aaron thwacked me on the back until the chewed up gloop popped out of my airway. After I spat it into a napkin, I took a gulp of cola. “Seriously, Carmella, timing.”
Carmella winced. “Sorry.”
“Actually, Samantha has a family dinner tonight,” Aaron said.
“Aw, so we’re the consolation prize?” Carmella teased.
Aaron slid his arms over our shoulders. “You guys could never be a consolation prize. So what do you say? Epic sleepover?”
So tempting, but then my phone beeped with a text from Drake. I scanned it and sighed. My brief sojourn into almost-normal was over. “Drake has intel on a case. I have to go.”
“Boo, hiss,” Aaron said.
“I’ll stay,” Carmella said.
“Cool.”
I left them making plans for the evening and headed for the lifts, my heart still in that tiny apartment with my two best friends.
Back on the street, the sun was beginning its descent as I strode toward the aerial tramway. The journey home wouldn’t take more than an hour. The station came into view, and a prickle of awareness shimmied up my spine. Instead of speeding up, my feet slowed their pace.
His scent hit me first, that fresh summer-breeze smell, and I turned slowly to face him. “What are you doing here, Garuda?” I sounded normal, unaffected, when in reality my pulse was trying to jump out of my skin and my intestines were tying themselves into an intricate knot.
Garuda stepped out of the shadows of a nearby awning. He looked . . . good. Dressed in a long wool coat, jeans, and a dark navy polo sweater, he looked really good.
“I wanted to see you,” he said softly.
I licked my suddenly dry lips, my breath coming fast and shallow. “Why?”
He took a step closer, and I instinctively took one back.
Garuda’s brow crinkled and his lips twisted as if in pain. “I almost killed you, Malina.” His voice was a raw rasp.
Mine was a whisper. “Yeah, you almost did.”
“I wanted you to know how sorry I am.”
“I got your note. It wasn’t your fault. I know that, and you must, too. I understand why you stayed away.”
He leaned forward to take another step toward me, his scent filling my head, drawing out the memory of his hands on my throat, his avian eyes pinning me to the wall as he prepared to shred me with his lethal beak.
I gasped and stumbled back. “Don’t.” I held out a hand to ward him off. My mind was a flickering projector of images, my body a quivering mass of terror.
“Please. Control it.” His voice was a desperate plea.
But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not now, so I spun on my heel and strode toward the station.
“Malina, wait!”
His fingers closed around my elbow. I bit back a scream and yanked my arm from his grip.
He backed up, his nostrils flaring, his eyes flashing green. “I’m sorry . . .”
I saw it on his face then, in the furrow of his brow, the downward slope of his mouth. He was afraid of how I would look at him, of how I’d react to him after his attack on me. He was afraid of . . . us.
And so was I.
Carmella had been right. This—him and me—couldn’t happen. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”
Garuda’s eyes lit in a slow burn that made my chest ache. “I know.” He inclined his head. “Be safe, Malina.”
I watched him walk away as my heart sank into my boots.
5
It was almost seven in the evening by the time I got in. Drake, Ajitah, and Eamon were in the sitting room. Should I tell them I’d seen Garuda? No, because they’d want to know what he’d said . . . what I’d said. It just seemed too . . . private. Instead, I grabbed a glass of juice from the kitchen and parked my butt on the sofa arm, my bicep brushing Ajitah’s shoulder.
I pivoted to Drake. “So, what did you find out from Sarah?”
He sat forward, eyes glittering. “Sarah was a waste of time.”
“You sweet talker, you. So why did you call me back?”
Drake licked his lips. “I just had a call from my grandmother.”
“O-kay.”
Eamon chuckled. “Drake’s grandmother is high witch for the Mayfair Coven.”
I let out a low whistle. “You didn’t tell me you were witch royalty.”
He snorted. “Hardly. Anyway, she wants our help.”
“She knows about us,” Eamon said. “She knows what we do. I had an audience with her when Drake joined me.”
I glanced pointedly at Drake and mouthed the word audience.
He rolled his eyes, but I was pretty sure his skin flushed slightly. He knew I was right. The Mayfair Coven was the crème de la crème. Why hadn’t he mentioned it before?
I sipped my juice. “Did she tell you why she needed our help?”
“She wouldn’t give details, but said it was regarding missing witch bloods.”
Missing people again. “You think it could be related to our case?”
“The thought did cross my mind.”
A frisson of excitement sparked in my belly. Maybe this was the break we’d been waiting for. The woman we were helping had waited long enough for some closure. And there was still the possibility that this whole thing could have a happy ending. Yep, I was riding the optimism train on this one.
“When is she coming to see us?”
Drake wrinkled his nose. “She isn’t. We’ll be going to her.”
I raised my brows. “Since when do we go to clients?” I held up a hand. “Wait. Don’t tell me—since the client is a Mayfair Coven high witch.”
Ajitah snorted.
Drake just looked sheepish. “We have an audience at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.”
There’d been a human monarchy once, but they’d retired more than a century ago when the supernaturals had gained a foothold. Now the Mayfair witches were the closest thing our society had to royalty.
“Is there anything I need to know, etiquette-wise?”
Drake’s brow furrowed. “Just don’t curse. She hates swearing.”
