Edge of Night

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Edge of Night Page 8

by Crystal Jordan


  “So do you,” Merek said pointedly.

  “I have.” Erin’s face filled his mind, and the unsettled feeling that had ridden him since the night before made his shoulders twitch. He couldn’t lose her. Not yet. Whatever was going on, he’d get to the bottom of it. Hopefully, it was something they could work on. Working on something sounded a lot like they already had a relationship, and hell, maybe they did. Maybe they needed to start calling it what it was. They weren’t dating per se, but he considered her a friend. With benefits. But a friend, nonetheless. Being in the FBI meant he didn’t have a lot of time leftover for friendships, so he cherished those he had. He didn’t want to lose this one.

  He was going to have to talk to Erin and figure out what was up. Something was, he just didn’t know what. A small smile curled his lips at the thought of duking it out with her. They’d never had a confrontation before, but he was almost looking forward to it. Fighting got the blood pumping…and made for excellent make-up sex.

  “I think you have gotten over it.” Merek’s eyebrows arched as he searched Luca’s face. Apparently satisfied with what he found there, he grinned. “Good.”

  Chapter Five

  Def Leppard belted out of her new cell phone, singing about pouring some sugar in the name of love. Erin fished the phone out of her pocket and quickly silenced it. Luca. She’d already set his usual ring tone, but maybe she should change it. She’d been avoiding him for a few days now, which she knew was shitty. But she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do about him, so she wouldn’t know what to say if she did pick up.

  She’d decided to back off a bit, but how far was a bit? He was only allowed over once a week? Twice a month? Less than that? There’d never been any limits on their arrangement other than discretion. Her chest squeezed painfully at the thought of cutting things off entirely, and even that wasn’t a good sign.

  It didn’t help in the least that her body craved him like a drug. She’d practically worn out her vibrator in the last three days, and as much as she’d tried to avoid fantasizing about him while she’d brought herself to orgasm, she’d kept imagining his mouth on hers, his hands on her skin, his cock shoving deep inside her soaking pussy.

  Forcing herself not to return his call or send a text message, she shoved the phone back in her pocket. Time to work, not waste minutes vacillating over a man. She turned her attention to the inventory list on her desk. Their vendor had just dropped off their order, and she needed to check it to make sure what she had in her kitchen matched what was on the list. Picking it up to scan it, she turned to walk out the door.

  She’d just stepped into the hallway when she stopped and frowned. “This can’t be right.”

  “What can’t?”

  She glanced up to see Tina bearing down on her with a trayful of dirty dishes.

  “Nothing for you to worry about.” Erin flapped the sheaf of papers through the air. “Busy day so far?”

  “I’m earning my paycheck, that’s for sure.” Tina winked, her usual good-natured smile in place. “And the tips are plentiful, so I can’t complain.”

  “Excellent. Carry on.”

  “I shall.” She managed a mocking half-bow, even with the loaded tray.

  Giving a parting wave worthy of a pageant queen, Erin moved toward the stockroom to check if what was on the inventory was what had been delivered. Ten minutes later, she found out it was. “What the hell?”

  This wasn’t what she’d told Holly to order. It wasn’t even close. None of the new recipes she’d developed could be prepared with these ingredients. A wash of queasiness filled her belly. This was not good. No, scratch that. It was really, really fucking bad.

  It took her ten more minutes to track Holly down. She shoved the inventory list at her. “What is this?”

  The werewolf eyed her as if she’d started foaming at the mouth. “This would refer to…what, exactly?”

  “This is not the ordering list I gave you. How on earth am I supposed to cook this week?” Erin tried to ratchet down the hint of panic in her voice, but knew she hadn’t succeeded. “What happened, Holly?”

  Confusion flooded her cousin’s face. “Most of what’s there is our normal fare for the menu. Only the stuff for your specials is different. I thought you changed the order for some last minute dishes or something.”

  “Me? Why would I want”—she looked at the list again—“three hundred cans of sardines?”

  “Wait, you didn’t change the order?” Holly’s tone sharpened in dismay. “Because I know I didn’t. So who did?”

  “I have no idea.” Erin shook her head for emphasis.

  “I’m calling the company right now.”

  No matter what they had to say, there was no way this order could be fixed in time for her to cook her specials for the dinner crowd tonight. Probably not even for the breakfast crowd in the morning. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

  Okay, it wasn’t as if the world was ending, but this was her livelihood. This was how Holly and she paid their bills. It was how they paid their employees, which was even more important. It only took one bad meal for customers never to come back again, and their regulars had already been emailed about the fabulous new dishes they should come in and try.

  And she had canned sardines to work with.

  Fantastic.

  She got a grip, sat down in the nearest chair, and went over the list again, item by item. What could she make with what she had available?

  Breakfast was easy. She could do fisherman’s eggs—seasoned sardines in a ramekin, with a soft-cooked egg over the top. Not her usual fare, but it would work for one day.

  Dinner was a whole different can of fish. It didn’t help that she loathed sardines. It was like some sick joke that she now had to work with a boatload of it. She groaned at the unintentional pun. They had specials for everything from appetizers to desserts, so she needed to do a sardine extravaganza. Blech.

  Okay, a Caesar salad with sardines was easy enough. There were a few different pasta dishes that could withstand the addition of sardines. Spaghetti would probably be best. That was the salad and the entrée…appetizers. She scanned the inventory again. Crostini. Spinach pesto sardine crostini. They’d need to order extra pesto if she used more of it than usual tonight, so she made a note to mention that to Holly.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. It would be insane tonight trying to prep her line cooks for a different menu than she’d planned, but that was life. Sometimes you had to adjust.

  “They’re closed for the day, but I have the manager’s personal number.” Holly flashed a grin. “We went out once, remember? Anyway, he made some very pissed off calls to his people and they have no idea who changed the order. A new staff member took a call from someone who claimed to work here this morning. The person—not sure if it was a man or a woman—had our customer ID number, all our relevant information. We’ll be getting a new ID, by the way.” She sighed, frustration in the sound. “Apparently, they had to scramble to get enough sardines for us.”

  “Well, they can scramble to take it back, then.” The idea of sardine stink filling up her kitchen made Erin’s nose wrinkle in noxious anticipation.

  Her cousin shook her head. “Not until tomorrow, babycakes.”

  “I know.” She nodded. “I have the specials figured out for dinner and breakfast, but I want this fixed ASAP.”

  Spreading her hands, Holly shrugged helplessly. “He’s on it first thing, but this late in the day, there’s not much he can do.”

  “Yeah, I know. We’ll make do for tonight. But sardines? Ew.”

  “I kind of like them.” Holly’s tone was encouraging.

  Erin scoffed. “You’ll eat anything with protein, wolfgirl.”

  The wolfgirl in question dipped her chin to acknowledge that truth. “I’m going to send out a social networking blast that our chef extraordinaire is serving up some specials with a twist for one night only. Come one, come all.”

  “Yeah, let’s just pray they like canned se
afood better than I do.”

  Holly was already on her smartphone and didn’t even glance up at that comment. “You could make dirty rubber boots taste gourmet. I have faith in you.”

  “That makes one of us,” Erin muttered, then stiffened when she felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. She didn’t check it, just in case it was Luca. She didn’t even want to consider if it was her prank caller, so she focused on the vampire. If she didn’t know it was him, she wasn’t really ignoring him, was she? No.

  Yeah, that justification sounded weak even in her head. She sighed and turned toward the kitchen to prep her staff before the dinner rush started. She already felt like shit and the day was only going to roll downhill from here. Tomorrow was soon enough to figure out what she was going to do about her lover. Or maybe it was really herself that she had to figure out—what she wanted, how deep she was going to get before she couldn’t deny she’d invested too much. What a mess. Every single inch of her life was a jumble right now.

  And she had sardines to deal with. Great. Just great.

  Gods, this was a new low. But after several days of unanswered phone calls, Luca danced on the razor’s edge of pissed and worried. He’s been reduced to calling her work to make sure she was still alive. As the phone rang in his ear, he sat back in his desk chair and prayed Erin’s cousin didn’t answer. The last thing he needed was to tangle with her wolf family. Hell, he wasn’t even sure Holly knew about the two of them. Probably, but he didn’t want to be the one to clue her in if Erin had left her in the dark. In the name of discretion, Luca hadn’t told anyone at all.

  The line clicked as someone picked up. “Emerald Bistro. This is Tina, how can I help you?”

  Thanking every single one of the gods it was someone he didn’t know, he sighed. “Hi, is Erin Bates there?”

  “She’s in the kitchen right now going about nine hundred miles per hour, but I can take a message and leave it on her desk.” The woman’s husky voice went muffled on the last few words. “Okay, I have a pen and paper. Who should I tell her called?”

  He debated disconnecting then and there, but after all the hang up calls Erin had received lately, he thought better of it. “Luca Cavalli. Just ask her to call me back. She has my number.”

  There was a pause. “Cavalli, got it. Okay, I’ll give her the message.”

  “Thanks.” He hung up, feeling foolish for his concern about her welfare. Of course she was fine. Why wouldn’t she be? The first day, he’d assured himself that she might not have gotten around to replacing her cell phone yet. The second and third days, he’d vacillated between anger and worry.

  Now the worry he’d felt had turned from concern over her safety to concern over their relationship. Such as it was. Perhaps she was seeing someone else and this was her way of letting him know she wouldn’t be as available as she used to be. They didn’t have an exclusive arrangement, so it was entirely possible. It surprised him how much he hated the idea. Since when was he possessive of Erin? But there was no doubt that was what he felt. It was as if he’d downed a whole pot of bad coffee and the liquid was burning like acid through his stomach.

  Well, to hell with wondering. He’d stop by her apartment to find out exactly what was going on. Even if she didn’t want to continue their affair, he damn well deserved at least a phone call.

  A brief knock sounded on his door, then Merek stuck his head in. “Cavalli, your suspect just blew his top in the interrogation room.”

  “Shit.” That had taken less time than he’d expected. Luca was on his feet and out the door in under a second. “What about the wife?”

  “Delta’s still working on her.”

  “Good.” Doubtful Hammond would leave without her, so that gave Luca a few minutes to have a little chat and maybe push a few more buttons.

  The Hammonds’ team of lawyers had made excuses for several days about why the grieving couple couldn’t show up for questioning. Finally, Luca had delicately suggested that a perp-walk in handcuffs with the press watching might be in order, and they suddenly had some free time to come in. Funny how motivating that could be. The Hammonds had their hands in human politics too, which meant the news crews would have a field day with Robert and Cecily. Thus far, the family had managed to keep Dillon’s death out of the papers, but that would last about as long as a vampire at noon in the Sahara if someone got a picture of Robert in cuffs and started asking questions.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Merek said quietly. “He’s not interested in leaving—he wants to chat with you. His lawyer is gonna love this.”

  “Most excellent.” Luca strode past the other man, toward their interrogation rooms. He didn’t get far before he found Peyton and Jack standing outside one of the rooms, each with carefully blank expressions. The door was wide open, and even a human would be able to hear Robert Hammond arguing with his lawyer from this distance. The cool politician wasn’t quite as cool as usual. Just the way Luca had hoped this would go.

  Jack nodded to him while Peyton continued to stare in silence. No doubt Hammond had been a complete dick to them. But Luca had hoped for that too. He’d owe his agents a round of beer tonight to make up for this. Stepping just inside the room, he felt spells close in around him. Interrogation rooms were warded against magic of any kind to protect agents from being attacked by suspects and to protect witnesses from magical coercion by agents. Being stripped of all his extrasensory abilities always took a moment of adjustment. It made many Magickals uncomfortable and twitchy, which he’d used to his advantage more than once.

  He took the opportunity to watch Hammond and his lawyer standing on the far side of the table. The lawyer was clearly trying to placate his client, but it wasn’t working. Luca addressed Robert, cutting off a tirade about his inadequate treatment.

  “What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?” Keeping his focus pinned on Hammond, he offered his most patronizing grin.

  “Nothing, Agent Cavalli,” the lawyer hastened to assure him. “We’re just waiting for your people to finish up with Mrs. Hammond.”

  Robert growled low in his throat and spat, “You send two animals to interview me? A mangy dog and a weak little sheep.” He nodded to Jack. “Or was he sent along as a snack?”

  Luca gave his Normal agent an assessing glance. “He does look like a tasty morsel, doesn’t he?”

  Jack straightened to alertness, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two vampires.

  “Poor thing, looks so worried.” Robert’s smile was vicious. His lawyer shifted uneasily.

  Luca snorted, stepping forward to sit in one of the chairs his men had abandoned. They’d left a few files on the table, no doubt related to the evidence they’d gathered on this case. He waved Robert and his legal counsel back into their seats. “It may be awhile. Delta is a bit chatty when she’d questioning someone. You might as well get comfortable.”

  The corners of Hammond’s mouth twitched. “I’ve met her before. She’s certainly a well-endowed vampire. Excellent…teeth.”

  Meaning she was stacked like a brick house. Luca flicked away his annoyance at that disrespect to one of his agents. A low snarl told him Peyton had heard and wasn’t as interested in letting it slide. Hammond had to have really pissed the wolf off for anything to get to him.

  Giving an imperious wave—a ruler to his loyal peasant—Luca dismissed his men. “Leave us be. Come get us when Agent Dubois is done speaking to Cecily.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jack’s voice remained neutral. He shut the door behind him while Hammond smacked his lips together as if the Normal was the most delicious treat he’d ever seen.

  Luca would bet every penny of his paycheck that within thirty seconds Peyton, Jack and probably Merek all had their noses pressed to the other side of the one-way observation window into this room.

  “So you live feed?” Luca arched his eyebrows as if surprised.

  “Many vampires do.” Robert rolled his shoulders. “Among family, at least. Reinforces the blood bonds between us.
You know that.”

  “Hmm.”

  “You can’t tell me the Cavallis don’t.” The man’s smile turned sly. “My mother would claim otherwise.”

  “Yes, so I’ve heard. We’re practically brothers, or so my dad says.” Luca let the corners of his eyes crinkle, not quite grinning. He shook his head. “Never thought I’d see the day Father found someone else. It was hard on him—on the whole family—when Mom passed.”

  Hammond waved an arrogant hand. “My mother won’t have any trouble filling her shoes. She’s the perfect woman for a vampire like your father. She’ll help him get further ahead in the Conclave. It’ll be good for all of you.”

  “Yours does have more of a political bent than mine ever did.” Luca ruthlessly crushed the need to beat the man senseless for dismissing his mother as if she’d meant so little to anyone. He had to keep focused on what mattered, which wasn’t Hammond’s opinion on either woman. “I’m surprised Elinor isn’t here today. She seemed very concerned about your wellbeing when I last spoke to her.”

  “Yes, well.” Robert shot his lawyer a fulminating glare. “We were strongly advised against it.”

  “Ah, lawyers.” Luca shrugged as if to say “what can you do?”

  “You were one at one point, weren’t you?”

  “I do come from a family of them. My father, Uncle Vito, a couple of cousins, even one of my aunts. Seemed only fitting.” He spread his hands. “We all have to find things to do with ourselves over the centuries.”

  “True. This one”—Hammond jerked his chin at his stone-faced legal counsel—“was recently turned by his new wife. He came highly recommended though, so I guess that’s something.”

  The lawyer didn’t deign to respond, but Luca guessed the man was as bound to this mess by political ties as he was. Still, this was the opening he needed. He felt his heart-rate bump up a notch, and he got a stranglehold on his control. Fortunately, with the ward against magic in the room, neither of the other men would be able to sense a change in Luca’s pulse.

 

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