Deadlocked (The Harry Russo Diaries Book 3)

by Lisa Emme

  “How long have you known?” Nash’s voice was monotone like he was having trouble staying in control.

  “Known? I just found out.”

  “About Salvador?”

  “Salvador? No, I’ve known about him for a while.”

  Nash growled. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Were you ever going to tell me?” He paced across the room, his hand raking through his hair. “I’m your mate! You don’t keep secrets like that from me.”

  I blinked at him in shock. That’s what he was flipping out about? Because I hadn’t found a way to tell him about Salvador yet? With everything that just happened to me, he was mad because…because his feelings were hurt or something? Because I didn’t act like a good little mate and spill all my secrets to him? Was he for real? I continued to gape at him, pushing all my confused emotions at him.

  “Listen Nash, I wasn’t keeping anything from you. I just hadn’t had a chance to tell you.” I scowled at him. “I’ve kind of got a lot going on here right now. In case you hadn’t noticed, that was my supposedly dead mother down there. I can’t really deal with your shit right now.”

  “My…” Nash’s words ended in a growl. “I can’t deal with this right now either. I have to go.” He started to stalk across the room.

  “What? You’re leaving? Now?” I looked at him in disbelief. I rose from my seat. “You know what? Just leave.” I shook my head totally at a loss, my emotions in turmoil.

  Nash frowned and took a step back towards me. I turned my back on him. “Fine,” he said. “I will.”

  I kept my back turned, staring at nothing out the window until I heard the elevator ding. When the door slid shut, I threw my glass against the wall. It burst into tiny pieces, kind of like how I felt inside.

  ***

  I immediately felt bad at my outburst and I stared at the wall where the tequila had splashed, leaving a stain. What a waste of that expensive tequila. I started to laugh, then realized I sounded borderline hysterical. I had to pull myself together and think things through.

  I cleaned up the mess I made the best I could with some napkins I found behind the bar. By the time I was done, all thoughts of thinking things through were gone. Instead, I decided that getting smashingly drunk was a better idea.

  Grabbing the bottle of Gran Patron and a new glass, I plunked myself down on the leather sectional. I brought the bottle up to my lips and then realized I was holding an empty glass. With a shrug, I set the glass on the table and took a swig directly from the bottle. Why bother with the middleman? I knew I was planning on knocking the whole bottle back.

  My mind replayed the evening’s earlier events over and over. My mother was alive. Well, sort of. She wasn’t dead and gone like I thought all these years at any rate. Where had she been? Why hadn’t she come to see me sooner? How long had she been a vampire? Did Gran know about her? The thoughts were swirling around a mile a minute. I took another long swig of the Patron, emptying the bottle. It wasn’t working fast enough.

  I needed something more, something to really take the edge off. I needed to get drunk and the only way I knew how to do that was to overload on emotions, other people’s I mean, not my own. I needed to go downstairs to Dante’s and feed on the life essence that permeated the entire place. I staggered to my feet - okay, so maybe the tequila was working better than I thought - and headed towards the elevator.

  The bell dinged and the doors slid open and I moved to step in, almost colliding with Salvador. Isaac was on his heels.

  “Harry,” Salvador purred. “There you are.” He looked at me closely. “How are you doing after tonight’s revelation?” He clasped me by the arms as I staggered back from him in surprise.

  “Revelation?” I blinked. “Revelation? More like fucking nuclear bomb.” I scowled at him, shrugging off his hands. “And you!” I continued, wagging a finger at him. “You’re not much better, lobbing your own volley without even warning me.”

  “Angharad, I do believe you are drunk.” Salvador said, his mouth quirking up in a grin.

  “Not drunk enough, but I plan on fixing that.” I stepped up to the elevator call button and started pushing it rapidly.

  “I don’t believe that would be advisable.” Salvador said carefully, looking around as if searching for something. “Where is your wolf? Should he not be attending to you?”

  “He’s gone,” I spat out the words. “Seems he has a problem with my parentage.” I pushed the down button again. Where was the damn elevator? “He had to go to work.”

  “I see,” Salvador replied. He flicked a glance at Isaac. “Well, why don’t I see if I can find you something more to drink,” he gestured at the empty bottle of Gran Patron that I didn’t realize I was still holding, “and you can stay right here and get, what do the kids call it these days? Wasted?”

  “Come on, Harry,” Isaac said, his face full of concern. “Why don’t you take a nice long, hot bath? That always makes you feel better.” He started to lead me back down the hall.

  “Fine, fine,” I said, stumbling along. It was a good thing Isaac was holding me up by that point. I hadn’t realized I was as drunk as I was. “But I’m going to need more tequila too.”

  Chapter Twenty

  I awoke with a start, feeling the bed move. I opened my eyes, instantly regretting it as a stabbing pain split my head in half. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. I opened my eyes again, feeling disoriented. I didn’t recognize where I was. I looked around, blinking carefully. Oh yeah. I was in my suite in Salvador’s penthouse. I took a quick look under the covers to confirm what I already knew. I was buck naked. Where the hell were my clothes and how did I get here? The bed moved again and I suddenly remembered why I woke up.

  “Here,” Nash stood in front of me, dressed only in his briefs. He held out two little white pills and a glass of water. “Judging from the empty bottle of Patron in the bathroom, you better take these. You’re going to need them.”

  I groaned, the bath and the bottles of Patron suddenly coming back to me. Oh, and Isaac seeing me naked and helping me into bed. Awesome.

  “I thought you had to work,” I said sullenly.

  “I did, now shut up and take these. We’ll fight about everything later after we both get some sleep.”

  “Fine,” I said, grabbing the pills and the glass. I tossed the pills in my mouth and chugged the entire glass of water, holding the empty glass out to Nash. The corner of his mouth twitched as he took it. I flopped back down, wrapping myself like a mummy in the covers, ignoring him. The bed dipped again and the covers were wrenched from my hands, cool air washing up against my back.

  Before I could complain, I was spooned up against Nash’s warm, hard body, his arm wrapping around me, holding me close. “Go to sleep, Harry,” he growled, his breath tickling the back of my neck.

  “Fine,” I whispered, already half asleep.

  ***

  I woke with a start and looked around. Oh yeah, I was still at Salvador’s. Nash was snoring quietly next to me in bed, his hand possessively on my thigh. My head was splitting and I regretfully remembered killing two, six hundred dollar bottles of tequila the night before. I also remembered everything else. What a night. I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. I needed to go home.

  I slipped carefully out of bed, trying my best to not wake Nash. I really wasn’t feeling up to having our conversation. There were things we definitely needed to hash out, but first thing in the morning when I had a raging headache and was starving, wasn’t the best time. We could yell at each other later.

  I slipped into the bathroom and took care of a few necessities, coming back into the bedroom dressed in my jeans and sweater from the night before. The enormous dressing room had revealed a stash of undies in one of the many drawers. It squicked me out for a moment, thinking about Salvador buying underwear for me - who wants their dad to bu
y their undies after all? But then I remembered that he probably used a personal shopper and I felt better. For some reason a complete stranger buying my underwear didn’t bother me.

  I was passing by the bed, heading for the door, when Nash rolled over and muttered.

  “It’s your birthday.”

  “What? No, it isn’t. My birthday’s in January.”

  “No, the elevator code,” Nash replied, lifting his head from the pillow to look at me. “It’s your birthday, day, month, year.”

  “Seriously?” Huh. I wouldn’t have figured Salvador for the sentimental type.

  “Yeah, it’s always been that. I didn’t realize it though until I met you and then I just thought it was a coincidence.”

  “Oh, okay, um, thanks.” I sidled from one foot to another not sure what I should do. So much for my quick get-away.

  “You’re sneaking off because you don’t want to talk to me.” Nash’s voice was quiet, more matter-of-fact than accusing.

  “No, it’s not that.” I chewed my lip for a moment. “Okay, it is that, but I do want to talk to you, only just not right now. My head is killing me and I just need to go home.”

  “Take my truck. The keys are on the dresser.”

  “No, I can’t do that. What about you?”

  “Yes, you can,” Nash said patiently. “I brought the Harley over last night.”

  My heart did a little pitty-pat. Even though he was angry with me last night, he thought about the fact that I would need a ride home. “Okay, thanks.” I turned to leave then turned back. “Nash?”

  “Yeah Harry?” He sounded half asleep.

  “Thanks for coming back last night.”

  “I’ll always come back for you, Harry.”

  ***

  The ride home was uneventful. I found Nash’s truck right where we had left it the night before in the parking garage beside Dante’s. As soon as I stepped out the side door, I picked up a tail. I wasn’t worried though because it was Jon and Mike, my usual two werewolf babysitters. At the garage, Jon came up and climbed in the passenger side of the truck while Mike hopped in their car to follow us.

  “I’m going to ride with you,” he said, making it obvious that it was a statement and not a question.

  “Sure, whatever.”

  When we pulled up to the firehall, I passed by the front slowly and looked into the coffee shop. The place was hopping. With a twinge of guilt, I remembered that I still hadn’t had the time to hire anyone to work days so Tiffy was in there all by herself holding down the fort.

  I parked the truck and hustled around front and inside the shop, Jon and Mike on my heels. I grabbed one of our plain black aprons and tied it around my waist, pushed up my sleeves and immediately set to work clearing dirty dishes. Tiffy threw me a grateful look and I smiled an apology back at her.

  My head was still throbbing, but I threw myself into the work because the best cure for a hangover was to be too busy to feel sorry for yourself. That, and another dose of painkillers followed by an espresso chaser. When I saw what Hilde had been baking the night before, I also decided that the cure involved several pain au chocolat, a sticky toffee bun and a quickly thrown together turkey sandwich on pumpernickel bread.

  After the morning rush, things quieted down, the lull before the lunch storm more than likely. I was beginning to wonder what I had gotten myself into, opening the coffee shop. I never expected it to be so busy. I’d have to get around to hiring at least a couple more people very soon.

  Tess came in and I filled her in on the events of the night before while loading the dishwashers up.

  “Your mom is alive? I mean, well, you know.” She looked at me in shock.

  “I know, right? It kind of blows your mind.” I mimed my head exploding with my hands.

  “So what did she have to say? Where has she been all these years?”

  “Beats me. It wasn’t exactly a moving reunion. I don’t think she’s particularly the maternal type.” I was surprised at the bitterness that crept into my voice.

  “So what now?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ll talk to her tonight at the banquet.” I made a face. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to going back to Dante’s. “Right now though, I really need to see if Gran is around. I need to talk to her.” I looked at Tess, giving her my best version of puppy eyes. “Would you stick around and help Tiffy out for a while? I’ll be back in time for the lunch rush, promise.”

  “Sure, but I’m taking my wages in pain au chocolat.”

  ***

  There was no sign of Gran in the apartment. I hadn’t seen her for a couple of days. Not since our last encounter. I contemplated trying to summon her, but in the end decided against it. Maybe she had finally crossed over. If she had, I didn’t want to call her back.

  Since I had some time on my hands before the lunch crowd arrived, I went down to the flower shop to check in with Mrs. Potts. Everything was running smoothly of course, no worries there, which allowed me the time I needed to create five more true sight amulets. I’d give them to Nash to give to the SRU teams following Juan Carlo. Hopefully his murder spree was over, but if he did go out hunting, the amulets would help to catch him.

  I was finishing up – I had one last amulet to charm - when I felt a familiar presence. I turned to see Nash standing in the doorway of my workroom. He was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed.

  “Oh, hi,” I said, feeling awkward.

  “Hey minx.” Nash smiled.

  “I’m just finishing up. Give me a few minutes?”

  “Sure. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Mrs. Potts told me to come on back.”

  “That’s okay. I’m almost done.” Nash took a few more steps into the room. “Just stay clear of the circle,” I added, indicating the pale white circle of sand on the floor encompassing my workbench.

  Nash held up his hands in front of him. “Oh yeah, don’t worry. I won’t go near it.” He smiled sheepishly. “I remember last time.”

  For a minute I didn’t know what he was talking about, but then I remembered the circle I had set in the ground when we confronted Navarre. Nash, or rather his wolf, had broken it, destroying the protection it had offered us.

  “Well, it wouldn’t be as dire as last time if you did. I just don’t want to have to redraw it and start over.”

  Nash took another step, staying close to the wall in order to avoid coming too close to my circle. “I’ll just wait over here, if that’s okay.” He pointed to the bench along the wall.

  “Sure. It won’t be much of a show though.”

  Nash crossed the room and I went back to my task. I held the small pouch filled with rue, mugwort and wormwood in my right hand, placing the back of my left hand over top. I have to admit to feeling a little self-conscious with Nash watching. I rarely spelled in front of anyone. Taking a cleansing breath to clear my mind, I silently chanted the spell. The bag warmed in my hand and there was a little sparkle of light and that was it. Like I said, it wasn’t much of a show.

  I placed the amulet in the box with the others and then looked at Nash. “All done,” I said with a tentative smile. “Just let me clean up.” I grabbed a small cylindrical container and placed it in the middle of my workspace. I caught Nash’s eye and gave him a ‘watch-this’ look and then held up my index finger on my right hand. Nash looked at me skeptically and I smiled mischievously.

  I gave my finger a quick twirl in the air, circling it around and around and then breathed out a quiet command, “Revenio.” The sandy circle surrounding me began to swirl, circling the workbench and slowly rising from the floor. It circled me several times, gaining momentum and then suddenly the circle broke apart and a line of sand flowed inward, straight into the container I had placed on the workbench. The container rattled and jumped against the counter top with the force of the sand returning to its keeping. With
a final ‘whoosh’ the last of the sand disappeared inside and the container was full. I snapped on the lid and glanced at Nash. He had an amazed look on his face.

  “Wow,” he said, his eyes wide.

  I shrugged. “I can’t really take credit for that one. The sand is spelled.” I dusted a few bits and pieces of rue into the trash can beside the workbench. “A witch I know from the coven makes it.” And she was making a fortune selling it across the globe. It sure made setting a protective circle a lot easier. You just needed to be able to invoke the two key words, one to set the circle, the other to bring it down.

  I fidgeted about, cleaning non-existent bits of stuff off the workbench. I felt awkward and unsure of how to start the conversation we needed to have.

  “Do you want something cold to drink? I have soda or water in the fridge.” I pointed to the little apartment size fridge under the counter along the wall.

  “Sure.” Nash went over and opened the door. “Do you want something?”

  “I’ll take a soda, please.” I needed the sugar after spellcasting.

  Nash grabbed a bottle for each of us and walked over to hand it to me. As I took the bottle I met his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” we both said at once. We stopped and looked at each other. Nash’s mouth twitched into a little grin and I shrugged.

  “Listen –”

  “Harry –”

  We both started and stopped again. I lifted a hand to Nash indicating he should go first and then waited, my arms wrapped around me, suddenly feeling cold.

  Nash shrugged. “Normally, I would say ladies first, but I want to say something.” He ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep breath. “Harry, I’m sorry. I really am.” He huffed out another breath. “I was an insensitive ass last night. All I was thinking about was how you had kept the information about Salvador from me. I didn’t even really consider how his announcing it to everyone would affect you or think about how you must feel with your mother suddenly appearing, back from the dead.” He reached out for me and then pulled his hand back, waiting. “I was a real jerk. Can you forgive me?”