Star-Crossed

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Star-Crossed Page 7

by Meg Anne


  Her eyes softened. “Fine, but no more treating me like a criminal.”

  “You got it.” He brushed a stray strand of dark hair from her face and briefly considered pressing his lips to hers. What would she taste like? When her mouth parted slightly, he tilted his head, desperate to lean down and discover the answer to his question.

  His phone rang, killing the moment. Horrible fucking timing.

  Lucas sighed before answering, “MacConnell.”

  Chapter 12

  Skye

  Skye watched as Lucas took a couple of steps away and spoke into the phone. Her breath left her body in a whoosh. What the hell was that? For a second there, she thought he had been about to kiss her.

  And she was going to let him.

  But that made no sense.

  Sure, he was gorgeous—she wasn’t blind. But he was also infuriating, judgmental, and way more than she could emotionally handle. Lucas MacConnell seemed like the type of guy to chew a girl up and spit her out. Not that she wouldn’t enjoy the ride while it lasted, but...

  Skye sighed. She just knew that after even one taste, she’d never be the same again. Relationships were messy enough as it was. Getting involved with him was just asking for trouble, and there was more than enough of that on her plate right now. No need to complicate things further.

  That meant no kissing, no matter how tempting the sinfully sexy detective was. She’d help him and his sister with the Druid, but that was it.

  Resolve strengthened, Skye turned her attention back to him as Lucas put his cell back in his pocket.

  “More good news?” she asked.

  He let out a breath. “They found two more bodies, a few blocks away from the other. This guy is on a spree.”

  “Oh,” Skye said, her stomach sinking. “That seems... excessive for one night, doesn’t it?”

  Lucas’ eyes were dark when they met hers. “You could say that. Most psychopaths tend to be a bit excessive.”

  “He’s trying to distract you,” Skye stated.

  “It’s working.” Lucas ground his teeth together, making the veins stand out along his neck.

  Skye forced herself to look away, entirely too distracted by the flexing muscles in his arms as he ran both hands over his head. Even so, she couldn’t fight the impulse to try and comfort him.

  “Listen, for better or worse, we’re in this together. One thing this asshole didn’t count on was me. I’m like your secret Gypsy weapon!” She tried to infuse her voice with reassurance but sounded more like a manic cheerleader than confident sidekick.

  He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “True. I’m just worried about the body count that we’re going to rack up while we figure this out.”

  Skye sighed. There really wasn’t a silver lining to this particular storm cloud.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing else you can think of?” he asked, searching her gaze. “Anything that could help us find this bastard?”

  She shrugged helplessly. “I’ve told you everything I know. I mean, I could try and look through my Gran’s diaries. There might be something in there that would point us in the right direction.”

  His eyes brightened with excitement. “You couldn’t remember those existed before now?” He grinned at her.

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re lucky I remembered them at all. It’s been years since I’ve even looked at them. I will get them tomorrow.”

  “I can come with you,” he offered.

  Skye lifted a brow. “Do you really have the extra time to run errands with me while this psycho is on the loose?”

  He shrugged. “It’s part of my investigation. And it keeps you from being alone.”

  “I’m not the one he’s targeting,” she reminded him.

  “Lizzie will be safe at work. I’ll make sure Matthews or a uniform is stationed there so that she’s never alone.”

  “If you say so, Detective,” she teased.

  “I told you to stop calling me that.”

  “Bite me.”

  “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ms. Giovanni. I just might take you up on it.”

  Her cheeks flushed and heat pooled low in her belly. Skye swallowed audibly. Well that just royally bit me in the ass, she thought as she tried and failed to get the image of his hot lips brushing against her body off her mind.

  He licked his lips, dropping his gaze to her mouth, then smiled knowingly, those evil dimples flashing.

  Skye grit her teeth. Keep it together, girlfriend. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “First crime scene?” he asked, leading the way down the hall.

  “Uh...” Skye trailed off. It wasn’t, actually, if you counted all of the visions that she’d had in her twenty-seven years. But it would be the first time she’d have to deal with the gruesome scene in person. “Kinda.”

  He shot her a quizzical look over his shoulder as he pushed the button for the elevator. “Care to elaborate?”

  “Nope.”

  “More of that hocus pocus stuff?”

  Her lips quirked. “I’m not a witch, Lucas.”

  “You sure as shit put a spell on me,” he muttered under his breath.

  Skye pretended not to hear him, but her smile deepened and her heart gave a little flutter. Proximity was not helping her keep her promise to keep her distance. From this close, she couldn’t ignore the intoxicating scent of him. She couldn’t place the cologne; it was a combination of amber and cedar. Something woody with a little hint of smoke. Maybe that explained why she was suddenly burning up.

  “You gonna be okay seeing the bodies?”

  Her stomach gave a little lurch. “Maybe?” she answered honestly.

  “Just say the word and I’ll get you out of there. No questions asked. I really just want your eyes on those—what did you call them?—runes?”

  She gave a quick nod.

  “You can stay outside with the uniforms if you want. I can snap a picture and we can do it that way.”

  Skye appreciated his concern. “It would be good to see it in person, if possible. There might be something about the”—she grimaced—“bodies that provides more context to the runes.”

  He nodded, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “You’re tougher than you look.”

  “Dreams of death tend to do that to a person.”

  “No kidding,” he said, his voice filled with understanding.

  He really does know what it’s like. Skye had had nightmares for years about all the people she couldn’t save. Visions of their sometimes-mutilated corpses would haunt her even decades later. Why would it be any different for Lucas, who had probably seen sights ten times worse than she had?

  “How do you cope?” she asked, her voice soft.

  There was a flicker in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He opened his mouth, like he was ready to rattle off some rote answer, but he closed it and shrugged. “Honestly? You don’t. At least, I don’t. I compartmentalize and remind myself that there are families out there that deserve answers. I don’t stop until I get them.”

  The elevator let off a soft ding as it arrived, and they both stepped past the open metallic doors.

  “And coffee. Lots of coffee,” he added as an afterthought.

  “To escape the nightmares?”

  His eyes softened. “You too?”

  She nodded. “That’s what I was painting before you guys showed up earlier. I was trying to exorcise the demons, so to speak.”

  He pointed to himself as he said, “Punching bag.”

  “To each their own.”

  “You create; I destroy.”

  She shivered at the words, feeling something prophetic in them. “Two sides of the same coin.”

  He tilted his head as he studied her. “Yeah, I guess they are.”

  Skye would have sworn she heard the word ‘we’ instead of ‘they.’ Perhaps it was the same thing. She focused on the red numbers that flashed above them as they descended until they
reached the garage with another soft ding.

  “I’d like to see more of your artwork sometime,” Lucas said casually, not looking at her as he led the way to his car.

  Her laughter sputtered out of her. “You would?”

  His smile was slightly self-deprecating as his gaze met hers. “If there are more like the one from tonight, I think there’s something we might find in them.”

  “Lucas MacConnell, admitting there’s something he can learn. There’s a first.”

  “You say that like you know me.”

  “Oh, Lucas. It didn’t take long at all to have you catalogued and sorted.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face her. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Skye snickered. “You’re as typical as they come.”

  His eyes flared with blue fire. “Oh, sweetheart, if you believe that, then I feel sorry for you.”

  She licked her lips nervously, his eyes tracking the movement with a predatory gleam. “Wh-why’s that?” she muttered.

  He flashed a wicked grin, leaning in to bring his lips to her ear. “Because you’ll never see me coming.”

  Well, fuck.

  He turned quickly and sauntered away, stopping to unlock the door of a shiny black ‘67 Chevy Impala.

  She let out a low whistle. “That’s not exactly a practical car for a Chicago winter, or a cop for that matter,” she babbled, running her fingers along the roof almost reverently.

  He raised a brow in surprise. “You a gearhead?”

  Skye lifted a shoulder, still checking out the car. “Not really. I just love American muscle.”

  He chuckled, and she looked up at him, too late, she realized the double meaning in her words.

  Heat suffused her face. Great, flustered yet again in his presence, she scowled. “Just drive, jackass.”

  “Buckle up, sweetheart. She’s as fast as she looks.”

  “Must be nice not to worry about getting pulled over.”

  “Gotta enjoy the perks where you can.” He grinned, the engine coming to life with a roar.

  Skye shook her head, biting back her own smile. No need to encourage him.

  He raced out of the garage, and Skye closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of flying.

  Chapter 13

  Skye

  Skye stepped out of the car and onto the pavement in front of an office building. The night wrapped around her like an old friend but she shivered, and not from the cold. The air was heavy, and her stomach did a somersault. Something was off tonight; she could feel it.

  Was the Druid watching them from the shadows? Or were her nerves just a reaction to the violence that had taken place here? She moved closer to Lucas, as if he could shield her from the fear taking root.

  “Come on.”

  Skye followed him into the building’s lobby and over to the elevator. The numbers illuminated as they ascended to the eighth floor, dread settling in her stomach like a bunch of bricks as they climbed closer to what she imagined was a gruesome crime scene.

  “You okay?” Lucas asked, gently touching her arm.

  She nodded. Not even the heat from his touch was able to break through the ice in her veins.

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing a long hall with officers and crime scene tape. Skye could see the unease of the officers around her. It was evident in the way they paced, the nervous glances they shot toward a marked off door, and the paleness of their faces. Witnessing the reaction to the scene did nothing to help her already frayed nerves.

  Lucas showed his badge to a shorter man in uniform who nodded and stepped aside. As they started to duck under the crime scene tape, the man put his hand up to stop Lucas.

  “Detective, just a fair warning, it’s bad in there. Two of my guys ended up losing the contents of their stomachs.” He nodded toward Skye meaningfully.

  She couldn’t even be irritated at the man’s lack of faith. Truth was, she wasn’t entirely sure she could handle it either.

  “She’ll be fine,” Lucas assured him, and they were ushered inside the now empty office room.

  The stench of what must have been death assaulted her senses and had her gagging. Her eyes watered and it was hard to breath around the bile that churned in her stomach. She swallowed hard. Skye had not come all this way to throw up, especially in front of Lucas. He needed her, so no matter how badly she wanted to run away and curl up in a ball, she had to get through this.

  “Remember, if it’s too much, we can leave,” Lucas offered.

  She shook her head. Skye Giovanni was no quitter, and she certainly wasn’t going to start now. She needed to see the runes.

  Two bodies were covered in white sheets, but from the acrid stench that hung in the air, she doubted there was much left of them. Charred carpet surrounded the sheets, and when she walked further in, she zeroed in on the runes painted on the wall.

  Lucas focused intently on the symbols, and she lightly touched his arm. He shook his head, as if trying to wake himself from some sort of trance.

  “Sorry, it was the buzzing.”

  “Buzzing?”

  “You don’t hear that?”

  She shook her head. “Maybe you should let me look at these,” she offered, curious why he was so affected by the runes. Was that the spell?

  “Yeah,” he agreed, still a little out of it. She waited for him to turn away before giving the markings her full attention.

  The symbols were similar to the ones he’d shown her in the photograph of the first crime scene, and the ones that were painted on her canvas at home. But the arrangement was different. She stepped closer and cocked her head to the side. Something was missing. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something was off about the way they were painted. Her mind drifted back to a past conversation she’d had with her Gran. One she hadn’t even remembered until now.

  “Skye, do you see the way these symbols are arranged?” Janice Giovanni gestured to the runes she’d drawn on a sheet of paper.

  “Yes, Gran,” ten-year-old Skye acknowledged, studying the symbols more closely. The arrangement felt wrong to her, as if her subconscious was screaming ‘DANGER,’ but she didn’t understand why.

  “These Druid symbols are deadly to others of their line. They use them to trap each other in the Wasteland.”

  “What’s the Wasteland?” she asked in a horrified whisper, her young brain conjuring up something appropriately creepy.

  Janice shook her head sadly. “The worst type of place, my darling. It’s not like heaven or hell, but rather an in-between place where they become frozen. Madness will take over, and even if the Druid ever manages to escape, they are never the same.”

  “But why would a Druid send their own to such a horrible place?” She wasn’t a fan of her cousin Bobby, but even he didn’t deserve to be sent to a place like that.

  “Because there are Druids out there who want nothing but power. It means more to them than anything, even their family. They want to absorb the power from the generations that came before them and keep it all for themselves. Even if it means that someone else has to die. Because as each Druid dies, their magical essence is passed on to those that remain. It is spread evenly through the line so that they must rely on each other, and not bear the magical burden alone.”

  “How can magic be a burden?”

  “It was never intended for one person to have that much power.” Her grandmother’s face was completely serious, something Skye had never seen before. “That kind of power, little one, can twist a person’s very soul.”

  “Oh no,” Skye murmured, as the runes before her swam back into focus. She turned to Lucas to warn him, but while she’d been lost in her memories, he’d somehow managed to get close enough to reach out and touch the runes. His fingers were mere inches away, and she panicked as she lunged for him.

  “Lucas, no!” she screamed, tackling him to the ground.

  “What the fuck, Skye?” he shouted, pushing her off of him and jumping t
o his feet.

  “What the hell do you mean, ‘what the fuck, Skye?’ I should be saying that to you!”

  “Why? I’m not the one tackling people.”

  “Lucas, you were trying to touch the runes.”

  “No, I wasn’t, I was over there—” He gestured to the far side of the room, his eyes wide with confusion. “How the hell did I get over here?”

  “I know what these runes are, Lucas. You need to get out of this room. Now.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll explain later.” She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. “Right now you need to get as far away from these as possible.”

  “If you cross paths with a Druid, Skye, you must run as far away as you can.” Her grandmother’s warning surfaced in her mind. Skye now knew why the Druid was hunting the MacConnell siblings, and the reason had her blood running cold.

  Chapter 14

  Lucas

  Lucas made his way down to the car. Skye walked behind him, but she kept her distance, and that concerned him. His thoughts were coming to him rapid fire, one after the other, as he tried to make sense of what was going on. She’d said she figured out what those runes were for; had the answer scared her? Or is it me she’s scared of?

  But why? Was she worried about becoming more of a target herself?

  No, that didn’t work. Skye wasn’t someone who was easily discouraged. He’d seen the fire in her eyes and knew she didn’t back down often, if at all.

  Since he couldn’t solve the puzzle that was Skye Giovanni, his thoughts turned back to the runes. What the hell had happened back there? He had wanted to touch them. His mind had filled with a buzzing more intense than the buzzing he’d experienced at the first crime scene, and the symbols seemed to beckon him closer. Why are they having such an effect on me? Is it because the Druid is targeting me? Is he trying to lure me out, so he can kill me? Is that what this is all about?

  “We need to go to the second crime scene,” he said when they reached the car.

 

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