I’m a matchmaker. I believe in the power of love. I believe in relationships and marriage.
I didn’t understand her at all.
Désirée cautiously eased her head around the doorframe. She took in the now calm blonde - currently tapping her nails in a distinctly irritated manner on my desk and staring off into space - and heaved a huge sigh. She beamed at me. “There’s a Mr. Smith here to see you.”
The xenologist.
Just wonderful. What else could go wrong today?
“And there are a couple of detectives.” Désirée Norma-Sue brushed a violet strand behind one ear. She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “Detective Connor and Detective Brushing.”
I just had to ask, didn’t I?
“Désirée would you mind bringing,” I still had no idea what the blonde’s name was. I motioned with my hand, “this woman into the waiting room and showing the detectives in?”
I had not anticipated the full usefulness of a secretary.
“Sure thing, sugar.” Désirée glided in, threaded her arm through the blonde’s and urged her toward my door. She could contemplate how totally inconvenient the Senator’s death was just as easily in my waiting area. “Ma’am, if you could come with me.”
I had a full thirty seconds to cast a calming spell before the detectives entered. Detective Connor wore a blue jacket this time and Detective Brushing had on a tan one. Other than that, everything was the same as the first time I met them. Except one minor detail. They stood much - much - closer together.
I felt like a young witch who had just completed her first successful spell.
Damn. Am I good or what? Fist pumps all around.
“Hello detectives.” I could not help the wide grin stretching across my lips.
“Ms. Storm.” Detective Conner nodded once. “Would you care to tell us about the blood we found outside your back door this morning?”
The wha?
They found blood? We missed some? Why had they checked out my alley? Was I now a suspect?
I know my face went white. I could literally feel all the blood draining down to my feet. It probably made me look even guiltier than they already suspected. There was nothing I could do about it at the moment. I was way too busy just trying to not pass out.
I knew Morgan, Al and I had cleaned up every single drop of the senator’s blood. Yes, I had planned to double check things this morning, but that had been more in the form of a reassurance for my witchy soul than an actual belief that a vampire and a hit-man would have left behind traceable evidence at a crime scene.
Morgan had her own crime scene clean up kit, for Spirit’s sake. And hundreds of years of experience.
“Ms. Storm?” Detective Brushing prodded me.
“I,” didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know.”
I stuck to the truth. It seemed the simplest thing to do since my mind had seized up and images of myself wasting away in a dark windowless cell had taken over the only part of my brain that appeared to be working.
I stumbled backward until my watery knees hit the edge of my chair and I dropped. The chair creaked alarmingly and rocked back and forth. At another time I would’ve been alarmed I might fall, but right now I didn’t care and my mind still wasn’t working.
The cell would be cold. No sunlight. No fresh air. No plants or hint of nature. Just me, three cement walls, a cot and metal bars.
I’d probably lose weight as I wouldn’t have an appetite, but I wouldn’t be able to appreciate it either. I wouldn’t see Al, Morgan or my Aunt Tabs except through thick glass. Ash. I wouldn’t see him either. I’d . . .
I may have actually passed out. I wasn’t sure. When I heard the detectives calling my name, I realized I was sitting in my chair, but I had no idea how much time had passed.
“What?” I blinked several times. Inhaled deeply. Still sitting in my chair in my office. Not behind bars. That was a good thing. A very good thing. I needed to concentrate on that.
Detective Brushing kneeled in front of me. Genuine concern on his face. Detective Connor scowled at me from across my desk.
I really did not like that man.
“Are you all right?” Detective Brushing asked.
“Am I a suspect?”
“Yes.” This from the man who should’ve already learned his lesson about messing with the witchy owner of a matchmaking company.
I glared at him. “Then, no, I am not all right.”
I took a deep breath to slow my racing pulse. It had no effect, so I tried it again.
“The blood, Ms. Storm? Why don’t you tell us about the blood and then we can all take a nice trip together.”
Okay, that totally screwed up any possible chance I had of getting either my breath or pulse under control. I settled for a slight pant and feeling as if my heart was going to burst through my chest.
My calming spell was completely ineffective. Being viewed as a possible murder suspect clearly trumped my magic.
“I don’t know anything about any blood you found.” It was the truth. I’d been positive we’d gotten rid of all the blood.
“You’re sticking with that story?” Detective Connor sneered his question at me.
Ooooh. If anyone was ever in need of a good frog turning spell . . .
“Yes, I am.” Anger is a powerful emotion. And right now I planned to use it to hide the fact I was scared witch-less.
“Ms. Storm, if you have anything to tell us, right now would be a good time to do so.” Detective Brushing kept his voice low and soothing. He was so nice and Detective Connor was so . . . Not. They weren’t playing good cop, bad cop either. They were good cop, bad cop.
“I’m telling you, I don’t know anything about any blood,” I realized what I’d said and quickly continued, “that you found.”
“We’re running tests on it now.” Every word out of Detective Connor’s mouth was plainly calculated to give me a heart attack.
I had no idea how long it would take them to run their tests. On TV it happens in a matter of minutes. But they had roughly a forty minute window, give or take a commercial.
I hoped I had time to pack. I’d take fugitive over prisoner any day.
“We’ll be in touch once we have the results.” I had no doubt his “in touch” meant handcuffed and stuffed in the back seat of their car.
They were leaving? They’d just come to threaten me? Somehow, that thought calmed me and allowed my brain to work. They didn’t have specific evidence. They didn’t even have circumstantial evidence. They had found unknown blood in a public alley. Yes, that alley backed my business, but more importantly they didn’t have a motive. The senator had been my client and then he’d died. Shit happens.
Again, I would like to take the time to point out that I am usually a nice witch. Just not when faced with imprisonment.
“Don’t leave town.”
Great. From bad cop to mind reader. I really did not like that man.
The detectives left. I had enough presence of mind to cast a quick spell over them and attach it to my wand. Nothing fancy, but something to give me a heads up in case they were anywhere in my vicinity. I wouldn’t put it past Detective Connor to follow me around.
I rushed into the waiting room. The xenologist and the siren wannabe were chatting over cups of tea. I drew up short. I’d completely forgotten about them.
“Uh, Désirée?” I sort of waved in their direction as I leaned over her desk. “I’ve got to run a quick errand. Can you handle things here for a minute?”
I absolutely refused to allow myself to think about what I was planning to do. I refused to look at anything but my new secretary. I refused to do anything but concentrate on my next move.
Anything else could easily break me.
“Sure thing, sugar.” Désirée smiled sweetly. My breath hitched.
Half-bred. Cursed. Witch.
I would never be anything else.
And now a suspected murderer.
Why did I ev
en bother to try?
20. Smart Chihuahuas and Panicky Witches.
I hopped down from my broom, waved off my concealing spell and ran for my front door. I was totally out of breath and had a severe hitch in my side by the time I reached the top of the stairs.
I was going to have to reconsider some sort of exercise routine now that I planned to be on the lam. Damn it all.
Shaking my head firmly, I deliberately blanked any and all thoughts or feelings. If I considered any of the ramifications of my actions, I wouldn’t go through with it. I wasn’t even sure if I would be able to function if I thought about . . . Nope, not going there.
Al and some clothes. I could do that.
“Hey, Doll.” Al rose and stretched from his spot next to Harley. “You’re home early.”
Ah. Sweet Spirits. I had Bigfoot sleeping on my couch. I couldn’t just leave her . . . I turned towards my bedroom. Clothes and Al.
Part of my brain shouted I was taking the Ostrich thing way, way, way too far. The rest of my brain was in total panic mode and completely overrode any and everything else.
“Where’s Morgan?” I yelled as I yanked an overnight bag out of my closet. I’d expected her to still be here watching Buffy with Al.
“She went back home. Said something about seeing that Drake vamp. What are you doing?” He jumped onto the bed and sat down next to the growing pile of clothes I was tossing onto my comforter. “Doll, you okay?”
He cocked his head at me, ears twitching and watery brown eyes blinking in concern.
“TheyfoundbloodAl.”
“What? Doll, slow down. Stop tossing underwear at me and slow down.”
I dropped the underwear in my hands and tugged on a handful of my curls. I didn’t need Detective Connor, I was going to give myself a heart attack.
I inhaled, inhaled again and slowly turned to face him. Al sat, stared up at me, his tiny head and upper torso sticking up and out of the leg of my purple panties.
“They found blood, Al.” My legs started to shake. I grabbed onto the corner of my dresser.
“Who found blood, Doll?”
“The police.” My teeth began to chatter.
“What blood? Where?”
See? This is the problem with former mafia hit-men. I was talking about police finding blood and having a nervous breakdown and Al wanted to discuss the matter calmly.
You’d think after our recent crime scene clean up, he’d be a little more concerned about any statement with the words “police” and “blood” in them.
“I don’t know whose blood. They just said they found blood outside of my office.” I knew his ears were sensitive, but I couldn’t help my shriek.
“Doll, if they found blood outside your backdoor, it isn’t the senator’s blood.” He nodded his furry little head towards the pile of clothes. My purple panties slid a little further down his chest with his movement. “I assume that’s what this is all about.”
“I thought we’d cleaned it all up too.” I tried not to shout. “But we had to have missed something!” My voice seemed to be operating in direct opposition to what my brain wanted. “They found blood, Al!” The repercussions of it all totally consumed me.
“Doll, we didn’t miss any blood.” His continued calm was really beginning to annoy me.
“How do you know?” My entire body shook now. “They found blood.” I simply could not stop saying it for the life of me.
“I don’t leave behind evidence, Doll.” He stated it simply. With no doubt what-so-ever.
And I realized he was right.
I knew enough about his former life to know Al had been an extremely thorough hit-man. Usually that info made me want to twitch. For the first time, it reassured me.
“Plus, I would have smelled it.” He didn’t even blink as he said it. Al never brought up his current state of being. I loved him as a Chihuahua. He totally ignored it.
He’d hinted at it now to comfort me.
My heart melted.
“Oh, Al.” I took two shaky steps forward and plunked down next to him. I scooped him up, purple panties included, and smooched his tiny head. He licked me on the lips.
We stayed that way for several minutes.
“So, whose blood do you think they found?” Oh, shit. Whoever had been trying to frame me could have returned and planted more of the senator’s blood.
“Then whoever tried to frame you in the first place, would have had to have more of the senator’s blood on hand.” I must have spoken that thought out loud. Al licked me again before he continued, “people who commit murder don’t usually plan that far ahead. It didn’t look like a professional had taken out the senator. They were sloppy and the campaign flag said weapon of opportunity to me.”
I thought the crime scene had looked pretty polished myself. Then again, I was the witch they’d tried to frame. That sort of made me a tad unreasonable about the whole thing.
“You could always ask Morgan to go check it out. She’s better than any lab tech.”
Right. My UDBF with the super senses. One whiff of the blood and she’d be able to tell whose it was. Blood being her specialty, so to speak.
Logical thought versus sheer panic and leaving everything and everyone I knew? Maybe I should try that approach next time.
My door bell rang.
I gave Al another big smooch and pulled my panties off him, his complaining “Doll” followed me down the hall.
Ash was the last demon I expected to see at my door. And the moment I took in his massive body filling my doorway, my stomach clenched. Half desire, half fear.
The hormonal side was thrilled I’d added a little Flame Away to my morning routine. Turns out Flame Away can now be spread over the skin. The naked skin. And it comes in multiple scents. I’d selected vanilla.
I couldn’t help the fear part. I’ve been rejected by the HC for so long, I simply expected it. Ash claimed he still wanted me. My insecure vulnerable half wondered if he’d already changed his mind.
“Hello, Ash.” Pain from my fingers made me realize I was gripping the door entirely too tightly. I tried to ease my grip and failed spectacularly.
“Kate.” Ash stood outside my door, body rigid. He didn’t attempt to come inside. I didn’t ask him to. But I wanted to. Desperately.
However, I also wanted to be one percent sure of where we stood before I made any move that could be deemed encouraging.
Go ahead. Call me a big fat chicken. I certainly was.
“May I come in?”
“Please do.” Ouch. This formality was painful. Literally. My fingers had dug in deeper and one nail cracked. Damn it.
Ash stepped in and somehow managed to avoid touching any part of my body as he went by. Considering his size that was quite the feat.
“What’re ya doin’ here, Ass?” I’d been so intent on the demon, I’d forgotten the Chihuahua.
“Al, not now.” I frowned down at him.
Al puffed up his little chest and took two growling steps forward. “I’m here now, Demon. Don’t even think about tryin’ to . . .” I cupped my hand over his tiny mouth and picked him up.
Al gave my palm a quick lick before he snarled some more. I did not want to know what he was trying to say. Hit-men tend to be limited with their vocabulary. And creative with their threats.
I marched him into my bedroom and plopped him back down into the pile of clothes. I could have put him on my porch, but he usually argued less if he was in my bed. “You are going to stay right here.” I shook my finger at him.
“He hurt ya, Doll.” Bulging brown eyes met mine with a ferocity that should not have surprised me. “He shouldn’t be here.”
“I have to figure this out, Al.” I truly did. “By myself.”
I’m pretty sure he meant to continue arguing with me, but one of my lace bras slid down and landed next to his front paws.
Al instinctively sniffed at it. I chose that moment to back out the door and close it firmly. I expected to hear
him protest, but he must’ve been too intent on my lingerie.
I made a mental note to wash that bra before I wore it again.
Ash was still standing exactly where I’d left him next to my pull-out. We both ignored the comatose body of Harley.
I opened my mouth and realized I had no idea what to say. Ash stood so rigid he could have been mistaken for a statue.
Spirits, was this who we were to each other now? My stomach in knots, afraid to speak and Ash stiff and uncertain?
Screw this vulnerable shit. I’d take mad any day o’ the week.
“Just dropping by or checking for lingering burns?”
Although I’m more comfortable with anger versus insecurity, it could be pointed out that anger also makes me rash, somewhat belligerent and a vote could be made for cruel.
I was halfway to him when Ash finally unfroze. His entire body shuddered. I slammed into his chest and attempted to wrap my arms around him.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never should have said that.” It was true. Regardless of what happened between us, Ash could not help his nature. He’s a demon. Fire is part of their nature.
“You are still upset with me?” His arms hung at his sides. His body tense and unyielding.
“No. I’m upset with me. You didn’t hurt me on purpose, Ash.”
“But I did hurt you.” Guilt coated each word. He moved his arms, breaking my hold on him. One big hand lifted my right arm, the other stroked the length of my forearm. Little tingles followed the wake of his touch.
“Your soft skin turned black. I did that. I hurt you.” He drew his hand up my arm and along my shoulder. One thick finger traced up my throat, finding and pressing gently against my rapid pulse. “I could have killed you.”
He was going to end things between us. I could feel it. See it in his amber eyes. He’d hurt me and it was killing him.
21. Hot, HOT Demons.
Half-bred. Mortal. Witch.
It always came back to this. One way or another. The sum and totality of my entire life.
I wanted to scream and if I did I knew I wouldn’t stop. I’d scream until all the little pieces that made up me simply shattered. Fractured. Unable to glue back back together.
Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1) Page 15
