Witches Can't Fly

by Nova Archer

  “Of course not,” Caine answered, giving Lyra a look. It was quick but she could see the irritation in it.

  “Then why was your subordinate spying on me while I was engaging in my natural right to feed? In privacy.”

  Caine took a minute before answering. Lyra knew he was gathering his anger at the chanteuse’s extreme arrogance and Lyra’s stupidity for being caught. If there was one thing she had learned about Caine over the years was his unfailing support of his team. He didn’t allow anyone to treat them with disrespect.

  But before he could speak, Theron took a step forward and opened his mouth. “No disrespect, madam, but the door was open. Lyra is a trained investigator, so she was merely doing her job.”

  Nadja arched an elegant brow and angled her head at Theron.

  Lyra winced as the vampire put the power on. The temperature in the hallway actually dropped a few degrees. Oh damn, this was going to be ugly.

  “Who are you to be speaking to me at all?”

  “Theron LeNoir, madam.” He inclined his head. “I am a big fan of yours.”

  “LeNoir.” She smiled. “Of course, I know your father.”

  Lyra rolled her eyes. She should’ve known Theron would get out of the predicament. He seemed to have an uncanny ability to slide through the mud without getting dirty.

  Nadja offered him her hand. He brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back. Lingering a little too long for what was courteous, Lyra thought.

  “You look just like Lucien. Handsome and refined.”

  “Merci. And you are as extraordinary as he has boasted.”

  Lyra had the sudden urge to rip the smug smile off the vampiress’s face. Or at least toss a binding spell to permanently seal her plump lips together. If she hadn’t been one of the most powerful beings in Necropolis and capable of yanking Lyra’s spine through the top of her head with the twist of her bony wrist, she might have considered it.

  “Thank you for your understanding in this matter, Nadja. We will be leaving now, so you may return to your dinner,” Caine said.

  “Is this about the witch?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry?”

  Nadja glanced down at Lyra, and she could feel the loathing in the vampiress’s gaze. “The witch who worked here. They could be twins.”

  Lyra’s stomach roiled at the woman’s words remembering the body on the hard, cold cement. The body with her face.

  “I didn’t realize you knew Lori James.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then how did you know she was dead?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You said ‘who worked here’ in the past tense.”

  She arched a brow and smirked. “Did I?”

  Caine moved his gaze to the manager. “Thank you for your time, Bernard. We’ll be in touch.”

  Nadja laughed. “Oh Caine, I’d forgotten how utterly human you seem sometimes. With your questions and all. You should really come back to the club where you belong. Think of all the fun we could have together.”

  He tipped his head. “Good evening, Ms. Devanshi.” Then with a jerk of his chin toward Lyra he turned on his heel and marched away. Lyra and Theron followed him.

  “I hope to see you again, Theron.”

  Theron turned and nodded. “You as well.”

  As they followed Caine out of the club, Lyra glanced at Theron, her lips pursed in thought. He noticed and looked down at her, arching one brow in question.

  “Is there anybody you can’t charm?”

  A smile twitched his lips as he lifted his gaze from hers. “Only one.”

  She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her mouth. With her head down, and her kit swinging beside her, she wanted to tell him that wasn’t true. He had charmed her.

  And it hadn’t taken any magic.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The moment the four of them came out of the elevator to the lab, Eve charged at them from down the hall, paper rattling in her hand.

  “I got the list of Mercedes.”

  “How does it look?” Caine asked.

  “Petrifying.” She shook her head, and then pointedly glanced at Theron.

  Caine understood the look, and with the flair of an expert at slight of hand, he managed to maneuver the four of them—he, Eve, Lyra and Mahina—away from Theron where they could freely talk about the case.

  Lyra saw Theron’s look of annoyance as he wandered away to sit in the visitor’s area, but she completely understood Caine’s motives for discretion. Just because he was consulting with them on the book translation and had been to a crime scene, didn’t mean he could have access to the rest of the evidence. Not for the first time, they thought someone in the lab was leaking information about the case and about the team to the media and ultimately to the killer. Months ago, when they had been working a related case in San Antonio, someone had leaked information about Caine’s peculiar background to human reporters. They had a heyday about the fact that Caine might not have been human.

  Eve continued. “There are sixty-five names on the list and half of the vampire elite are on it.”

  Caine took the paper from her and scanned it quickly. “Damn it. I recognize at least three members of the city council, a judge, a couple of TV personalities, Mistress Jannali’s personal assistant, and our very own Laal Bask.”

  Mahina grinned, but it wasn’t in the least friendly, more predatory in nature. “Give me half of the list. I’d be more than pleased to ask the hard questions.”

  “If just one of these people is involved in this, we’re going to have big problems. The mistress won’t sit idly by and let us interrogate any of those who move in her circle. We’re going to have to handle this with care and discretion.”

  “Well, damn that leaves me out. I don’t own any kid gloves,” Mahina grumbled.

  “First things first, let’s process what we retrieved from the club, get a more solid profile on our victim, and then work on this list.”

  “I forgot my kit in the SUV.”

  Eve, Caine and Mahina tried not to gape at Lyra, but she could tell their collective thought was one of shock. Lyra was usually meticulous when it came to collecting and cataloging in evidence. She was not one to forget anything—until now.

  “Okay, go to the garage, grab the kit and come straight back to the analysis room so we can go through it.”

  “I’m sorry, Chief. I don’t know—,”

  Caine put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Lyra. This case has got us all rattled.”

  “I’m not rattled,” she lied, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Take Theron with you.”

  She whirled on Caine. “What? Why? I don’t need a baby-sitter.”

  “I know, but it will keep him occupied.”

  She blew at the hair hanging in her face. “Fine. Now I’m a baby-sitter.”

  Muttering under her breath, she turned around and started back down the hall to the garage. As she passed Theron, who had relegated himself to sitting on one of the benches, flipping through a magazine, she mumbled under her breath.

  “C'mon.” She gestured with her head.

  Tossing the magazine onto the table, Theron stood. She could tell he was put out by the way his lips pursed together when he looked her way. “Now what corner am I supposed to sit it?”

  She shook her head, ill equipped to placate a cranky dhampir. “C'mon.” She started walking down the hall.

  It didn’t take much for Theron to catch up with the stride of his long legs. “I don’t appreciate being treated like an outcast.”

  “It’s not personal. We can’t just tell anyone the details of this case. What if it got out? What if the killer found out what we have or don’t have?”

  He grabbed her arm then and forced her stop. Meeting her gaze straight on, he made his presence known. She could feel the intensity of his magic, and his vampiric allure all the way down to her toes. “You can trust me, you know, Lyra.”

  Trus
t him.

  Grinding her teeth, she shook her head. “Stop talking.”

  Theron dropped his hand and took a distancing step back. “You are the most confusing woman I’ve ever met.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  He glanced around. “I am the only one here. Who else would you be talking to?

  She cursed under her breath, something she rarely did. She wasn’t ready to tell him that she conversed with her deceased grandmother on a day-to-day basis. Only those closest to her knew of her strange behavior. Theron already thought her to be exasperating; she didn’t want him to consider her crazy, too. Talking with the dead was not a common trait, even amony witches. Exasperated, she threw up her hands. “Never mind. Let’s just go to the garage, get my kit, and get some work done of this case.”

  She stomped off toward the elevator to the garage. She pushed the down button several times. The quicker this went, the better off both of them would be.

  Once in the garage, Lyra marched toward the stall where the SUV was parked. She could feel Theron’s presence behind her. Actually she could always feel him even when he wasn’t so near. She pressed the back door release on her key remote. There was an audible click as it snapped open. Just as she reached for it, the sound of an engine revving reverberated all over the garage. It was so loud; Lyra had the urge to cover her ears. But she didn’t get a chance to as Theron grabbed her around the waist and slammed them both into the back of the vehicle.

  She was about to protest but it died on her lips as a motorcycle whizzed by, the helmeted rider a blur of motion as he passed too close for comfort. If Theron hadn’t pushed her out of the way, she might’ve been hit.

  Turning her head, she watched the single tail light of the bike as it raced around the corner and out of the garage into the street. She knew that bike. She knew that rider.

  “Kellen.” She murmured.

  “You know this lunatic?”

  She nodded, her heart still thumping like pistons in her chest.

  Theron rubbed his hands over her back. The movement was soothing, and Lyra’s nervous shakes started to quiet.

  “Do you think he was trying to harm you?”

  She shook her head. “He’s unpredictable, but I don’t think he’d harm me. We’ve worked together for years.”

  As she slowed her breathing, she was acutely aware of the heat of Theron’s body enveloping her. His arms were secure around her, safe and comforting. For the second time, it felt right being in his embrace, his hands caressing her back, his heart pounding in rhythm with hers.

  That frightened her more than the speeding motorcycle.

  “You can let me go now. Thank you for getting me out of the way.”

  He dropped his arms and stepped back, but she could see the hesitation on his face before he did. “You are in danger, Lyra. Caine is right.”

  “Oh please, don’t start.” Turning, Lyra opened the back of the vehicle, grabbed her kit and slid it out. She closed the door, reengaged the lock and started across the parking lot to the elevator. “Kellen was careless. He wasn’t watching where he was going. Don’t read anything into it.”

  “It’s more than that.”

  She met his gaze. Concern swirled in his eyes, like storm clouds.

  “I can sense it.”

  “How?”

  “I see you in my dreams, Lyra. Nightmares really. I run to you, but you disappear before I can touch you.”

  A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered her last dream. The one with Theron screaming her name. Could they be having linked dreams? Was the danger in her dream a reflection of what was to come? Or just a reaction to seeing her face on a dead woman?

  “You’re shaking.” Theron neared her, stroking the tips of her hair with his fingers. “You know the dream I’m talking about. I can see it in your face.”

  “The dream was merely a reaction to seeing the victim that looked like me. I’m in no more danger than usual working on a case.” She pulled away from his concern. Not that she didn’t want him to touch her; she did with every inch of her body. But it would only complicate matters between them and with the case. She didn’t like complicated. She was a simple and easy girl.

  Living on her own and taking care of herself since she was seventeen had instilled a sense of simplicity. She never wanted much, never asked for much—just enough to get by without problems. Her grandmother had left everything she owned to Lyra, so it was never about money. She’d never wanted to get too involved with anyone else. Her heart had never mended after so many deaths in her family—so many she’d witnessed. Everyone left her eventually and so would Theron. It was inevitable.

  But something in her heart twisted as she watched him pull into himself. His face hardened and his eyes stormed over to a gun metal gray. “You make it very difficult for someone to care about you.”

  His comment stabbed her in the gut. She hated pushing him away but she knew their involvement would interfere with her job. Her goal was to catch this killer not fall in love. Love? She shook her head wondering how her thoughts had strayed there. She wasn’t falling for him. She couldn’t be.

  “Let’s get back.” She turned from his cold gaze and dug her cell phone out of her pocket to dial Caine’s number. She needed to tell him about Kellen. Something was definitely up with the vampire. He was unstable, a ticking time bomb, and Lyra had a feeling time was up.

  Caine answered on the first ring. “I was just going to call you.” She could hear the excitement in his voice.

  “What’s up?”

  “Gwen’s had a break through. We’re heading to the lab.”

  “We’ll meet you there. Ah, I need to tell you something about Kellen.”

  Lyra could hear some commotion going on in the background of Caine’s line. “What did you say, Lyra? I didn’t hear you.”

  “I said there’s something wrong with Kellen.”

  “Kellen?” There was a pause. Other voices came through the line. Raised panicked voices. “Eve!” Caine yelled. Lyra had to hold the phone away from her ear. “Get down!”

  Lyra glanced down at her phone as the line went dead. She looked at Theron. “Something–,”

  Everything which happened next occurred so fast Lyra couldn’t even register it as real. It was as if she was in one of her dreams.

  The sound came first. Thunderous. Eardrum bursting. It reverberated from above her. Before she could recognize the sound, Theron was running toward her his hands out, fingertips glowing blue. He was yelling at her but she couldn’t hear him over the deafening explosion.

  A large piece of concrete struck her shoulder. She could actually feel the bone crack under the weight as she fell to the ground.

  Everything went black as the ceiling caved in on top of her.

  Once the rumbling stopped and the dust settled, Theron pushed away the rock and rubble covering his legs and searched for Lyra. It was pitch black and he couldn’t see his fingers in front of his face.

  Clasping his hands together, he mumbled a simple spell and witch light grew between his palms. Slowly he pulled his hands apart and produced a glowing yellow sphere. He placed it gently on the ground and surveyed his surroundings.

  He found her not far away, curled into a protective ball, bits of rock and debris scattered over her from head to toe. He had to crawl to get to her. She wasn’t moving. Fear and torment pumped through his veins like rushing turbulent water. What if she were dead? Maybe he didn’t get to her in time. He couldn’t lose her now when he’d been so close to really knowing her, to falling for her.

  When he neared, she moaned in pain, and relief surged through him making his heart ache. Crouching beside her, he brushed the cement dust from her cheek and eyes.

  “Are you hurt anywhere?”

  Her brow wrinkled as she gauged herself. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “Nothing serious, I don’t think.”

  “Okay, but move slowly.”

  Lifting her arm, she rubbed the dirt
from her mouth and blinked up at him. “What happened?”

  “I think there was an explosion. The roof caved in on us.”

  She struggled to sit. Supporting her under her arms, he helped her. She grimaced in pain.

  “My shoulder,” she said.

  “A chunk of cement hit you before I could cover us with a protective layer.”

  For the first time, she looked around, most likely taking in the fact huge slabs of rock and concrete were suspended about five feet above them, as if floating in the air.

  “I used that bubble spell to form a layer of air over us, like a transparent sheet of steel.”

  He’d almost failed to do it in time. Another minute and they both would’ve been crushed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  She looked back at him and smiled without much humor. “That is too close for my liking.”

  “Mine too.” He sat down next to her as it was impossible to fully stand.

  “Thank you...again for saving me.” She picked some debris from her hair.

  “I’m just the right guy at the right time.” He smiled wanting desperately to soothe the haunted look from her face. Never before in his life had he wanted to take someone’s pain away from them as he did now with Lyra. He’d take it all away if he could.

  He knew she’d suffered in the past, knew about the loss of her parents and her grandmother. Although she’d treated him with disdain and put up a cold front, he saw between the cracks in her armor. He witnessed her vulnerability and instinctively knew it frightened her to the core to be so open.

  He wanted—no, needed—to protect her, to save her if he had to. Nothng else mattered to him. Saving Lyra would save his own soul.

  She looked at him sideways while she continued to remove clumps of rock and glass from her hair. “Yes, it seems you are.” He saw her lips twitch before she looked down and brushed at her pants. She picked up a piece of burnt glass between her fingers and held it to the light. “Do you think it was the DNA lab that blew up?” Her voice caught in her throat. She struggled to keep her emotions in check.