Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Colleen Gleason

  Rick leaned against the counter, disappointment playing across his features, but the moment was lost and he knew it. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “I understand.”

  I smiled feebly and said, “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “I not sure if I’ll be back tonight, but you’re welcome to stay.”

  He leaned down and picked up his shirt from the floor. “I’m not sure I’ll stay. You go and do what you need to do. I’m good,” he said, voice tinged with frustration.

  I grabbed my jacket and purse from the sofa where I’d dropped them. As I headed out the door, Rick kissed my cheek chastely and said, “If you have any trouble, please call me.”

  His words seemed more of a warning of things to come than an invitation, and I had a sense of déjà vu. I wondered if Charlie had said something to him, or if he just had the same foreboding feeling I did.

  “I will.”

  Without another word, I got into my car and drove away. There were so many things left unsaid between us, but this wasn’t the time. Still, the thought that he might leave while I was gone bothered me more than I was willing to admit—even to myself.

  FOURTEEN

  January eighteenth

  It was after midnight when I made it back home. The house was dark, but I noticed Rick’s car was still in the drive. I staggered into the house and set the ward, but there was no sign of him. I knew it was unreasonable to expect him to still be up, especially since I knew he hadn’t slept the night before, and I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved. I’d spent the last several hours trying to sort through the jumbled feelings I had about the man.

  I walked through the house on autopilot, checking the answering machine and feeding Spike before I made my way back to my bedroom. The long weekend had finally caught up to me, and I was practically asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

  But as usual the universe had other ideas, and a full night’s sleep wasn’t in the cards. A high-pitched whistle reverberated throughout the house, tearing me out of a deep sleep. The sound came again, and this time I recognized it. Someone had set off the perimeter wards.

  My room was pitch black. An illuminated 6:23 a.m. glowed from the alarm clock on the bedside table. I slipped out of bed and retrieved my robe from the chair beside it.

  A knock sounded at the bedroom door. “Olivia? Are you okay? What’s that noise?” Rick asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

  I turned on the light and let him in. “It’s an alarm. Someone’s on the property.”

  He crossed the room and pulled back the curtains to look outside. I couldn’t help but notice how sexy he looked with his rumpled curls and dark stubble. He turned around and I looked away, not wanting to get caught ogling him. I focused on the nightstand, and sifted through the contents until I found a flashlight.

  “I’ll be back,” I said. “I’m going to see who it is.”

  But as soon as the words left my mouth, we could hear voices from inside the house. I looked back to Rick, and he was already headed toward the door.

  “Maybe you should stay here while I go check things out,” he said.

  “The fuck I will. This is my house,” I said, opening the small lock box in the nightstand. I pulled out my revolver and checked the chamber. “Perhaps you’re should wait here.”

  “Olivia?” Charlie’s voice called out from the dark. ”I’m sorry. I tried calling last night, but you never answered.” A deep voice I couldn’t make out came from the living room, and in a much quieter tone I heard Charlie say, “Of course I’m warning her. She might shoot your ass if you’re not careful.”

  Confused, I meet Rick’s gaze. “It’s Charlie, but there’s someone else. Do you think it’s Agent King?”

  He shrugged and looked at the revolver. “Maybe you should put the gun away,” he said.

  I sighed and put the gun back in its usual home. My calm snapped. “I’m a single woman living in an isolated area. I need to be able to protect myself. You know not all of us can toss people across the room with our powers.”

  A knock sounded at the bedroom door. “Liv, I’m sorry. I told them to wait until later today. Hell, I told them to call you first, but would he listen? No.” Charlie sounded pissed.

  I yanked the door open. “Told who? What’s going on?”

  “Ms. Harmon? I’d appreciate it if you could join us in the living room, and I’ll answer any questions you may have,” an unfamiliar male voice called from down the hall, rich and deep with a hint of a southern accent. Definitely not Agent King.

  Again I looked to Rick for answers. His lips were set in a thin line, and I felt the electric sparks of anger and annoyance popping from him like static discharge.

  “Rick?”

  “We’d better go out and see what Marcus wants,” he said, walking past me and down the hall.

  When I reached the living room, I caught my first glimpse of the famed Marcus. A tall, lanky man sat on the sofa next to Samuel, relaxed as though he were here merely on a social call instead of rousting me out of bed at the crack of dawn.

  At first glance, he looked strikingly mundane. He could have easily passed for any number of older bookish, academic types, with his brown clothing and conservatively cut salt-and-pepper hair—except for the piercings and tattoos. He had no fewer than eight facial piercings, and five tattoos peeked out from under his traditional clothes. The contrast of bourgeois and punk rock hurt my brain.

  As I approached the man, he rose from the sofa. “Ms. Harmon. My name is Marcus Searing,” he said, extending a hand. When he grasped mine, I felt his power flow over me in silken waves. “Please excuse the early hour, but I didn’t think this could wait.” He had turned and said the last words to Charlie.

  Her response was a look that could’ve peeled paint. With a scowl firmly in place, she turned to me. “He thinks you’ve been making those charms.”

  “What?” I asked, sure I’d heard her wrong.

  “As I tried to explain to your friend here, I just have a few questions.” Exhaustion and annoyance trickled from the man. I could tell he held a tight rein on his emotions, and the fact that Charlie apparently got under his skin brightened my mood.

  “If you just had a few questions, why couldn’t they wait until a decent hour? Or better yet, why didn’t you just call?” Waking up to this circus had me on the defensive, and Agent Searing and Charlie’s battle of wits was only feeding my sour mood.

  “I thought you might be more comfortable here than in a Division interrogation room. I’m here out of courtesy.”

  “Courtesy?” Irritation got the better of me and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “It would have been courteous to show up at a reasonable hour. It would have been courteous to call first. Listen. As a courtesy, I’m not going to kick you out. I’m happy to answer any questions you have. I have nothing to hide, but I’m not going to stand here in my robe and nightgown. I’ll talk to you after I’ve taken a shower and put some clothes on.”

  “I’ll make some coffee,” Charlie added.

  Searing seemed ready to argue, but I cut him off. “You’re either going to have to take me into custody or wait. Your choice.” I turned, catching Samuel’s gaze. “Even after yesterday you think I have something to do with this?” He looked away, his guilt hanging in the air between us. I could tell this wasn’t his idea, but it still didn’t mean I wasn’t angry at him too. I stormed down the hall, Rick on my heels.

  “Olivia, wait up.”

  But I didn’t stop. Rick shut the door behind him, locking it. He came up behind me and tentatively touched my back. “Are you okay with this? I could call my office and see if I can’t get Division to back off.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, trying to ignore his hand as it trailed down my back.

  “There’s that word again. You always seem to be ‘fine.’ For someone so in tune with other people’s emotions, you’re crap at dealing with your own.” Irritation edged his voice, but I was p
icking up concern in his touch. This man was a mystery I didn’t have time to focus on right now.

  “How should I be feeling? I’ve just spent the last three days working my ass off for the Division. I’ve put my life on the line trying to remove that charm, and this is the thanks I get.” My eyes stung with unshed tears, and I closed them, refusing to cry. “How could he think I had anything to do with those things?” I leaned back into Rick’s chest, letting his cool concern soothe me.

  “Marcus might be an asshole, but he’s too far up the food chain to put in a personal appearance for that. There must be something else going. Just talk with him. Listen to him. He’ll see right away that you had nothing to do with this. I’ll be here with you.” He gave me a little shove toward the bathroom, breaking our contact. “Now go take your shower. I’m going to have a few words with Marcus while you’re getting ready.”

  Still irritated, I took my time. After I’d showered, dressed, and dried my hair almost an hour had passed. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, and I looked longingly at the trail. I hadn’t been on a run for two days, and my muscles twitched for the release. As soon as I got everyone out of my house, I was going on a long one.

  The heady aroma of fresh coffee greeted me when I entered the room. Rick was in a heated discussion with the two Division agents, so I joined Charlie in the kitchen. She had a full cup and toast waiting for me. Charlie was going out of her way to keep me calm, but it actually wasn’t necessary. I’m not sure whether it was because I had my rings on again or the fact that I’d kept everyone waiting, but my sour mood was gone.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, handing me the cup.

  “I’m fine,” I said in a low voice, taking a sip. Remembering what Rick had said, I added, “Agent Searing is just doing his job.”

  She frowned, her angry expression making her look even more imp-like. “They still could have called. I’m so pissed with Sam.”

  “Sam, is it? We’ve passed ‘Agent King’ and gone right to Sam?”

  “Sam.” Her frown deepened. “I think he’s moved to ‘Agent Asshat.’”

  I sipped my coffee and eyed the men. Searing kept looking over, his deep brown eyes watching me as the other men talked. I turned my attention back to Charlie. “So you run off with a Division agent, and now I’m on the most-wanted list? What’s up with that?”

  Charlie slumped onto the barstool at the end of the counter and let out a long breath. “After we dropped Molly off, Sam reported in. That Marcus guy started questioning your involvement and how you released the charm when no one else seemed to be able to.” Charlie leaned in and whispered. “I didn’t tell him about the book. He assumed that you were able to manipulate the charm just because you’re an empath.”

  “But that doesn’t explain why they are here.”

  “It does look bad. Two girls show up in your back yard with the slave charms. You, the only registered empath for hundreds of miles. You were able to break the enchantment, even though no one else could.” She picked up her mug and eyed me, letting her words sink in. “I was so caught up with Molly last night, I didn’t even think about the consequences. I knew the Division was going to get involved, but I should have at least looked.”

  “Just because you can see things coming doesn’t mean you can change them. I wouldn’t have changed what I did,” I told her. And even though I hated to admit it, if I were in his shoes I’d be suspicious, too. I glanced in their direction. King and Rick were arguing again. I was glad I had grabbed my ring. Between Charlie’s frustration and the growing anger coming from the living room, I would have had a meltdown by now.

  “I’ve had enough of this crap from you. Charm trafficking is a federal crime and out of the Order’s jurisdiction. It was my call, and if you don’t like it, you can go fuck yourself.” King stood up and said to Searing, “I’m takin’ a smoke break. If you need me, I’ll be on the porch.”

  Silence hung heavy in the room. Rick ran his hand through his hair, tugging on his curls. “I’m going to change clothes.”

  After they’d both left the room, Searing spoke up. “Ms. Harmon, are you ready to have that chat?”

  “I’m happy to answer your questions. But I have one of my own first. Why would you think I had something to do with this? Samuel—Agent King—said you wanted me to look at the charms. He even gave me the impression that you expected I’d be able to identify them and perhaps even manipulate the enchantment.”

  “Yes. But after your local sheriff informed my department you were a suspect in two unsolved homicides, both teenagers, I felt the need to approach this in a different way. Especially after we identified the young man found at your dock as a missing witch from the Chicago Academy.”

  “What? So now I’m a suspect in your charm case?”

  “Let’s just say I have some questions that need to be answered.”

  I spent the next hour going over the events of the past few days. Everything was fairly cut and dried, but Agent Searing kept coming back to the night I removed the charm.

  “Tell me again why you decided to try to disenchant the charm. What made you think you could do it when other experts had failed?” Agent Searing had asked the same question three times now.

  “For the last time: I could see the charm’s magic entwined in her aura. It was like untangling knotted-up yarn. I’m sorry that your employees weren’t patient enough to figure that out, but that’s not my problem.” I stood up and looked down at him. “You don’t seem to have any new questions, so if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work. If you need anything else, please call and make an appointment with Charlie.”

  I was halfway across the room when I heard him laugh. “You’re just like your mother.”

  That stopped me in my tracks. I turned around and eyed him. “What do you know about my mother?”

  “I knew both your parents. You and I have actually met before. Although you couldn’t have been more than two or three when I was your father’s apprentice. That’s the main reason I didn’t have you brought in, Olivia.”

  “Well, if you knew my father so well then you have your answers right there. Maybe I’m just like my father and have a talent with charms.”

  He seemed to consider this for a few minutes. “Perhaps. But I still think you’re hiding something.” He rose from the sofa and picked up his briefcase. “I’ll be in touch, Ms. Harmon. Please don’t leave town.” Dismissing me, Marcus turned his attention to the kitchen where Rick and Charlie were talking. “Rick? If you can walk me out, I have a few questions for you.”

  The two men walked out the front door, and I relaxed.

  “I’m proud of you,” Charlie said. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. “You managed to get through that whole interview without telling him to fuck off. My little girl is all grown up.”

  I rolled my eyes and shrugged out of her embrace. “Suck it. I know it’s hard for you to grasp the concept, but I’m perfectly capable of being a mature adult.”

  “Just keep telling yourself that.” She went back to the kitchen and opened the fridge. “I’m starved, we didn’t have breakfast this morning. Do you think your boy toy can whip up some of those swoon-worthy eggs?”

  “He’s not my boy toy, and I was serious about going into the office today. I need to make transportation arrangements for Sarah Pickett. Shit, I hope they haven’t left yet.” I ran toward the door. I needed to make sure the FPD was going to take possession of that bastard Malone, and I wasn’t about to let Agent King get away without instructions. I wanted him out of my cooler by tonight.

  A dark SUV was parked alongside the house. I didn’t see the men, but when I approached the vehicle I could hear their hushed voices on the other side. Slowing my steps, I tried to catch what they were saying.

  “I understand your trepidations, especially considering the state I found you in this morning.” The rich, southern tone of the voice identified the speaker as Agent Searing. I stopped and listened
more closely.

  “I’m not one of your employees, Marcus. I’m not about to start searching her house. You’re grasping at straws here. Olivia isn’t involved. You should be focusing on why Scott Malone was here in the first place,” Rick’s deep voice rumbled.

  “That is exactly what I’m doing, so if you want to keep her out of a holding cell I need to know you’re on board. Your superiors agreed to let me use you on this case since she seems to trust you. I’m convinced she didn’t make the charms, but she knows more than she’s letting on. Find out what she’s hiding and I won’t have to mention to your superiors that I found you in her bedroom this morning.”

  I held my breath waiting for his response.

  “Fine. I’ll have a look around,” he finally said. I wasn’t sure what I had expected him to say, but the fact that he gave in so quickly upset me.

  Not wanting to hear more, I called out. “Agent King, we still have some unfinished business.”

  The three men stopped talking as I rounded the SUV’s bumper. Afraid my face would betray my anger, I refused to look in Rick’s direction, instead choosing to focus on King. “I need an address to send Scott Malone’s body.”

  Agent Searing handed me a card from his wallet. “We have a morgue at this facility. Please ship the body and all the personal effects here.”

  “Thank you,” I said as I took the card, still eyeing King. He hadn’t said a word to me the entire time he’d been here, and I hoped he was feeling incredibly guilty. “And next time you need help with a case, don’t bother calling me.”

  I turned around and stomped back to the house. I’d had my fill of the Division and inspectors. Rick called my name as I reached the porch, but I didn’t turn around. As I walked through the door Charlie said something, but I couldn’t talk with her right now, either. The irritation from this morning’s interrogation had boiled over into full-fledged rage. I didn’t stop until I’d made it to my bedroom.

  Once behind closed doors, I collapsed on the bed and covered my face, trying to will the morning away. I wasn’t sure what was more insulting: that I was evidently now a suspect, or that Rick was actually willing to use this…whatever this was we had going on, to search my house.