Suspicion gnawed. Her protective hold on the jewel tightened. “Why so many questions?”
He smiled, but the mirth seemed forced. “I’m intrigued. Antiques are, after all, my specialty. If you’ll indulge me? The box…?”
“Wood.”
He didn’t appear satisfied by her revelation; he sounded worried. “May I see it?”
Meow. Mrowrr.
A stronger flare of suspicion. “Maybe after dinner?”
He smiled, a roguish grin that made her stomach swoop. “Could I see the necklace too? It looks to be gold.”
“I think it is.”
“If I could see it close-up—”
Meow!
“Take it off, you mean? Hand it to you?”
“Yes—”
“No!” She couldn’t explain the urgency of keeping the necklace from him. She just knew, instinctively, that he mustn’t get hold of it—or its box. But, she could distract him with the thought that she’d concede another time. “I mean, would you ask me again later? Dinner’s ready.”
“Of course.”
With a sigh of relief, she downed half of her wine in one swallow.
“You okay?” Lucian asked.
“I’m fine. It’s just a bit warm in here. This kitchen isn’t well ventilated.”
Concern touched Lucian’s expression. “What can I do? Turn down the air conditioning? I don’t want you to suddenly pass out.”
“No, no. That’s not going to happen.” She went to the sliding door off the kitchen. “Before we do anything else, I’m putting these cats outside. Go on, girls. Out!”
Lucian forked up more of the perfectly-cooked penne pasta smothered in a savory Bolognese. “This is an excellent meal.”
Molly smiled.
He might have thoroughly enjoyed what he was eating, except that the necklace’s magic taunted him from where she sat opposite him. Also, the unpleasant crawling-ants sensation had started at the back of his neck. A Dealer was nearby—perhaps the guy who had left the flyer on her door. He might not be alone.
Lucian’s attention shifted to his sword. His warrior instincts urged him to grab it and draw it now. But, if he did that, he’d probably scare Molly, and he didn’t want to give her a reason to end the evening early or call the police.
“I got the recipe for the sauce from one of my colleagues,” Molly was saying. “Her father’s Italian, and…. What in the world?”
Following her shocked gaze, Lucian glanced over his shoulder. Twilight had fallen, but he could still make out the four female cats crouched at the opposite end of the screened patio. They stared intently at something in the yard: The Dealer?
Lucian’s silverware clattered on his plate. He shot to his feet.
Molly startled, just as a golden cat jumped up against the screen then dropped back down to the ground.
Galahad.
Molly pushed her chair back. “I’d better go—”
“I’ll go.” Lucian strode to the patio door and opened it. She looked about to follow. “You’ve been busy today. Just stay there and relax, okay?”
“Okay.” She frowned. “That ginger kitty looked like Gala—”
Lucian closed the door behind him.
The squire leapt at the screen again.
Rose growled. “If you don’t leave our yard—”
“You gotta help me,” Galahad wailed.
The gray tabby snorted. “Just because we understand you doesn’t mean we have to listen to you.”
“You should,” Lucian said, reaching the four females.
Rose hissed. “The moron’s joined us.”
“Lucian,” the squire gasped. “I tried to get your attention, but couldn’t get any help.”
Lucian met Rose’s glare. “Just so you know, I also can understand everything you say. I don’t intend to get Molly drunk. I’m not going to seduce her. I want to keep her safe.”
“Why should we believe you?” Marigold said. “You want the necklace.”
“Yes, to secure it.”
“For all we know, you want the dark power for yourself.”
Lucian clenched his hands. “My intentions are noble. I will gladly explain more later. Right now, Molly’s in danger.”
“Let us out of this enclosure—”
“No. Galahad and I will handle the threat. You keep Molly distracted.”
“Bossy, isn’t he?” Petunia groused, but to his relief, the felines didn’t try to race out when he exited through a screen door into the yard.
He ran to the side of the house, Galahad at his heels.
“The Dealer,” the squire said. “It’s the guy who visited the shop yesterday.”
Grass rustled underfoot. “Just him?” Lucian asked. “No others?”
“I only saw him.”
When Lucian didn’t immediately see The Dealer in the front yard, he continued on to the driveway. The blond man stood beside the Mini, toeing the right rear tire while taking on his cell phone.
Magic crackled to life in Lucian’s palms. Even though he knew the man was the enemy, he must follow the centuries-old rules of confrontation.
“You,” Lucian called. “Stop kicking my car.”
The man glanced up. Recognition etched his features. Lucian hadn’t ever been introduced to the guy, so The Dealer must have seen a photo of him, perhaps in a file he’d been given by his superiors.
The blond man swiftly raised his right hand. A pulse of shrieking, black-colored energy shot toward Lucian. Not breaking his stride, Lucian thrust out his palm, blocked the magical bolt, and with a sideways swipe, diverted it. With a thud-hiss, the pulse hit an ornamental shrub. The stench of burning leaves wafted.
Scowling, the Dealer ended his call and shoved his cell into his back pocket. He raised his hand again, readying to fire another bolt.
Lucian halted. With a flick of his fingers, leaves, twigs, and dirt rose from the ground to form a barrier that surrounded him, Galahad, the Dealer, and the Mini. In the darkening twilight, the debris wouldn’t be easily visible, but the blurring spell he’d added would keep people driving past or out walking their dogs from seeing the battle. The silencing spell would also muffle sounds.
“Lucian Lord,” the Dealer drawled. “I was warned I’d run into you or your grandfather.”
“I know why you’re here, Dennis Crow. That’s the name you’re using at the moment, right?”
Crow smiled. “Why don’t we make things easy for each other? Give me the dark magic object. Then I’ll be on my way.”
Lucian glowered. “Not a chance.”
“I won’t leave without it.”
Lucian wondered how the Dealers were manipulating Crow: threatening to publicize a scandal from his past, perhaps, or hurt his children. Lucian would slay him if necessary; however, he also was honor bound to offer the opportunity to surrender. “Yield,” he commanded.
“Nope.”
“I won’t offer mercy agai—”
Crow lifted his hand, another black pulse forming on his palm.
Light the color of chain mail armor flew from Lucian’s fingers. The blast slammed into the Dealer’s right shoulder. He cried out and staggered backward.
Black energy rushed toward Lucian. He dodged. The pulse screamed past the left side of his head.
A blur of movement snapped his attention to the Mini. Galahad was on the vehicle’s roof and heading toward Crow. Lucian looked back at the blond man, lunged to avoid another strike. With a blast of silver magic, Lucian forced Crow to dart sideways, colliding with the Mini.
Galahad leapt onto the man’s back and hung on by his claws.
Howling, Crow reached behind him to try and dislodge the feline.
Lucian raced forward. The blond man tried to fire another bolt, but Lucian locked his hand around the Dealer’s throat. Crow choked. He tried to grab Lucian’s arms, but Lucian tightened his grip until the Dealer stilled.
“How many Dealers are in Cat’s Paw Cove?” Lucian growled.
&n
bsp; Sweat beading on his forehead, his face scarlet, the man glared back, unyielding.
Lucian’s hold tightened again. “How. Many—”
“You’ve already lost,” Crow croaked. “Others are on the way.”
“On the way? So you’re a scout? Working alone?”
He heard the shriek of building energy.
“Don’t,” Lucian said through his teeth.
Crow’s lip curled. As his hand aimed at Lucian’s chest, Galahad scrambled higher, his claws sinking into the Dealer’s shoulders.
Crow yelped. Lucian fired a shot of silvery light. The Dealer gasped as the energy slammed into his torso and immobilized him from head to toe. His eyes slid shut. Galahad jumped back onto the car as Crow collapsed on the ground.
“Ha! That showed him,” the squire said.
“Julius will want to question him.” After confiscating the Dealer’s phone, Lucian took out his own cell and typed a quick text message.
Just as he hit send, he heard Molly’s voice. “Lucian?”
He met Galahad’s gaze. “She mustn’t see you. Hide.”
The cat leapt to the ground and darted under the car.
Lucian twitched his fingers, and the screen of leaves, twigs, and dirt fell silently to the ground.
“Lucian?” Molly said again. “Where are you?”
Chapter Twelve
Molly glanced around the yard again. As if the past five minutes couldn’t get any stranger, Lucian had vanished. She didn’t see his car, either. Had he driven away? That didn’t seem likely, since his sword was still in her kitchen.
Confusion and disappointment tangled up inside her as she wiped her brow with her hand. While the sun would soon set, the humid air still held the day’s heat. She’d wanted tonight to be uneventful, normal, so she could get to know Lucian better. Instead—
Her gaze landed on the ornamental bush’s blackened leaves. Had it suddenly come down with some kind of leaf mold? She wasn’t an expert on Florida plants, but the leaves appeared more burnt than diseased.
“Molly.”
Startled, she glanced to her left, to see Lucian approaching. Then she inhaled sharply, because the Mini was parked in her driveway. She could have sworn the vehicle hadn’t been there a second ago.
A man also lay on the ground. Twilight made it difficult to see, but he appeared to be unconscious. How had she missed him, too? Was she losing her mind?
She hurried to meet Lucian. His hair looked tousled, and a slight flush darkened his cheekbones. “What happened?” she asked, unable to hold back her shock.
“Everything’s okay—”
“No, it’s not. There’s a guy lying in my driveway.”
Lucian caught her arm and pulled her back toward the house. “You should go inside.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“Trust me, it’s better if you just do as I say.”
No way. There was obviously more to the scene than he wanted to reveal to her, but this was her yard. “Is he hurt? Should I call 911?”
“He’s going to be fine.”
She struggled to ignore the way Lucian’s touch made her feel restless and warm inside. If he wouldn’t tell her what had transpired, she’d try a different approach. “He looks like the real estate agent I saw earlier today.”
“Dennis Crow,” Lucian confirmed.
“Why is he near your car? Did you two get into a fight?”
Lucian looked about to reply, but then a scraping sound drew her gaze to the driveway. Crow was pushing to his feet.
Lucian growled. He’d clearly expected Crow to remain unconscious.
Releasing her arm, Lucian stepped in front of her. He’d positioned himself between the blond man and her. Coldness pooled in the pit of her stomach. What did he think the real estate agent might do? Attack them?
Crow stood, brushing off his clothes.
His gaze met hers, and for some odd reason, she yearned to touch the necklace again. Even as she acknowledged the craving was different than what she’d experienced before—a colder, emptier longing—Crow glared at Lucian then ran down the driveway and was gone.
“I wonder….” she said aloud.
Lucian faced her. “What do you wonder?” He took her arm again and guided her toward the house. This time, she went with him.
“I think my mom’s cats heard Crow. That’s why they were acting so weird.”
“Before dinner, you mean?”
“No, after you left the patio.”
“Weird in what way?” Lucian asked.
“Well, I let them inside, and they went wild, racing through the house and up and over packing boxes. Rose even got on the kitchen counter and started knocking silverware onto the floor. She’s never done that before.”
Lucian chuckled.
“It wasn’t funny.”
“Rose is a pistol.”
“How would you know?”
He smiled. “If I told you, I…. Well, let’s just say she and I have a kind of understanding.”
Molly mock-frowned at him as they started up the porch steps. “Not fair. You’re going to have to tell me more.”
His brows rose in challenge. “Am I?”
“Yep, if you want dessert.”
Lucian washed down the last of his garlic bread with a sip of wine then sat back in his chair. “I could eat that meal every day.”
Molly rested her head on her left hand. Her hair shimmered in the glow of the candles on the table between them. Thankfully, after escorting her inside, he’d managed to steer their conversation to cooking techniques and favorite restaurants, rather than on what had happened with Crow. “I’m just sorry I had to heat you up a second portion in the microwave,” she said. “It never tastes the same reheated.”
Shrugging, Lucian wiped his mouth with his napkin. “The microwaving didn’t diminish the honor of dining in your realm, milady.”
“My realm?” Molly rolled her eyes.
He grinned and gestured to his broadsword, still leaning against the wall. “I do have the right medieval weapon.”
“You were going to show me your sword,” she reminded him.
That was just too good to ignore. “I thought a bit of foreplay first was customary.”
As he’d expected, she blushed. “Lucian!”
“I know. I may be a knight, but I’m also a bit of a knave.”
She wagged a finger at him. “You’re pretty bold to make assumptions about tonight.”
His grin widened. “I’m pretty bold in general—especially when I want something.” Or someone. He didn’t just want to get hold of the necklace. He couldn’t get the memory of kissing her out of his mind. Even now, his blood hummed with awareness of her and the temptation she posed. He wouldn’t leave her house tonight without kissing her again.
“I think you’ve had too much wine,” she said in a teasing voice.
“Nah. I know my limit.” Lucian picked up the half-empty bottle to pour more into her glass and then his.
Molly chuckled and her focus shifted past him to the patio. She’d put the four female cats outside again, and they lay near the sliding door, watching what was taking place in the kitchen. Lucian met Rose’s hard stare; a warning that she was keeping an eye on him. Not much she could do, though, if he and Molly went into another room.
The clatter of dishes drew his attention back to Molly. She’d stacked his plate on hers and added their silverware before rising. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Sure. Thanks.” He rose as well.
“I’m making decaf, by the way. In case you were afraid of being…awake all night.”
From the mischief in her gaze, she’d meant the sexual innuendo.
He winked. “I don’t mind being awake all night—”
“That’s good to know.”
“—although I didn’t think you had that many antiques you needed me to appraise.”
Molly laughed. “An all-night appraisal. Right, Lucian.” Shaking her head,
she set the plates by the sink and went to switch on the coffeemaker.
“Shall I load the dishwasher?”
“Don’t worry about the dishes.” She leaned back against the kitchen counter, her expression somber as she hugged herself. “Now will you tell me what happened outside? I would like to know.”
Perhaps he could tell her just enough to appease her curiosity. In no way could he tell her the truth.
“Crow was in my yard. Why? What was he doing?”
Planning to steal your magical necklace.
“When I saw him,” Lucian said, “he was talking on the phone while kicking my car.”
She frowned. “Did he harbor a grudge? You’d obviously talked to him before.”
“Not until tonight,” Lucian said.
Puzzlement touched her expression. “But, you knew his name.”
“I recognized him from real estate ads in the Cat’s Paw Cove Courier. I confronted him, and he got belligerent. When he turned quickly to leave, he slipped on the gravel and fell. You found me soon afterward.”
“Why was he on my property? I mean, he could have made his phone call anywhere.”
“He mentioned flyers.”
“Oh. I did see him with some earlier.”
“He might have received a call from someone who’d seen the flyer. Maybe he’d heard you were going to sell this house and had gotten the call while on his way to speak with you.”
Molly gnawed her bottom lip. “That makes sense.”
Good.
“I wouldn’t worry about Crow. With luck, he’ll be too busy to visit you again.”
She nodded, while the coffeemaker gurgled and steamed.
She still looked preoccupied, though—and Lucian couldn’t resist a pang of jealousy that so much of her focus was on the Dealer.
Lucian crossed to her, set his hands on her upper arms, and gently rubbed, an offer of comfort. Sighing, she closed her eyes. Pleasure spread through Lucian, for he enjoyed touching her, longed to lean in and claim her lips. But, the necklace’s corrupt power shifted and swirled between them like liquid poison seeking to find a chink in his protective armor and slip in.
Bloody hell, but the energy was insidious. Ambitious, even.
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