by Moira Rogers
«Somewhere I know we won’t be overheard.»
His voice was sharp, edgy, and she knew she’d hit the right button by mentioning Roz. She needed this man’s help with her current problem since there was no one else she could turn to. Although the first time she’d seen him from a distance, she’d wondered if he was the right person. Up close, face-to-face, she’d been even less sure since every single female hormone in her body had woken up and started singing girl songs.
It had taken quite a bit of strength to overcome the gleeful hallelujah chorus going on in her panties, but she’d managed it. For now, she needed Detective Fisher’s talent, not his penis, magnificent though it assuredly would be.
He stopped next to a car in the parking lot, surprising Pandora, as her thoughts had been far away from mundane things. Like where they were going.
«Get in.» He held the door, his tone commanding and abrupt.
«Well, since you’re being so charming about it…» She slid into the passenger seat and waited for him to join her behind the wheel.
He did, but not to start the engine. He turned to her with an expressionless face. «Now tell me what the hell this is about.»
She took a breath. «I met Roz when her husband had some dealings with our firm. It was a social occasion. We chatted and she told me about her job with you. She was very discreet and spoke highly of you. But I’m not an idiot. I put two and two together — and came up with considerably more than four. You baby-sit what are, for lack of a better phrase, challenged AGs.»
He inclined his head slightly. «And if I do?»
She pursed her lips, seeking the right words. «If you do, if my assumption is correct, then you are one of the few people who can help with my little — er — problem.»
«You think you have a challenged AG?»
She snorted. «There’s no think about it. I know I do. And I’m not sure where to turn, who to ask for help. Since it’s a puppy, you came to mind.» She straightened her shoulders. «I don’t quite know how to explain this. First off, I’m not into putting down animals like they were useless bugs. Everything gets a chance, as far as I’m concerned.»
Cheney nodded. «Agreed.»
«So what I would like…» Pandora paused, uncertain of what it was she really wanted. «Look, I don’t have that much experience with young AGs, or puppies for that matter. But you don’t have to be a psychiatrist or a vet to look at this thing and know there’s an issue of some sort.» She turned to him, trying to keep the pain out of her voice. «I think it’s in trouble, Detective. I don’t know why, but there’s something about it that’s disturbing me.»
«That sounds like an emotional response to a stray, not anything I’d expect from a lawyer.»
She curled her lip. «I’m a lawyer in court and it’s what I do for a living. I like the law. Always have. But that doesn’t mean I snack on warm furry things and drown kittens in my off hours, for Chrissake.» She sighed. «This puppy ended up with me as the result of a court case. Nobody else would touch it.» She swallowed. «I’m not sure why I did. I had the same reaction. It doesn’t…feel right.»
«Feel right?»
«I know. Stupid thing to say and a completely unreliable statement I’d tear apart in the courtroom. But it’s true. Maybe it was the environment it was born into.» Staring absently out of the car window, she tried to shed the unpleasant memories. «The case sucked. It was about animal abuse and an unscrupulous, money-grubbing leech.» She grinned suddenly. «I won. He won’t be abusing anything else for quite some time. In fact, he’s got five to ten years of finding out what it’s like on the other side of punishment. Not to mention I took him for every filthy penny he’d ever filtered into an offshore bank account.»
She flashed a quick glance at Cheney. «Global internet finance laws are quite restrictive these days.»
«So I’ve heard.» His voice was still cool.
«After the case, the evidence, as in the poor creatures involved, went to adoption agencies or homes. No worries about them. It was just this one…nobody wanted him. Honestly? I didn’t either.»
«Why?»
«Again, I don’t really know. Call it gut instinct. But as I said, turning him over to some euthanasia company…well, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it.»
«And…» prompted Cheney.
«Well, I remembered my conversation with Roz. I decided to speak with you and ask if there was any way you could—evaluate this creature? Use whatever skills you have to tell me what the hell’s going on with it?»
«This isn’t a police matter.»
«No, it’s not.»
«And it wouldn’t go any further than the two of us?»
«Are you nuts? You think I want every associate in the firm thinking I’m a pushover for a pair of floppy ears and a wagging tail?»
His face relaxed into a grin at her outrage. «I guess that wouldn’t do the image any good, would it?»
«Damn straight.» Pandora shuddered. «No matter how civilized we get, it’s still tough for a woman to get past the breasts thing and be accepted for her brains not her bra size.»
Annoyed at herself, she realized she was watching his gaze drift to her breasts. And rather enjoying it.
«We’re getting off topic.» Or at least I am. She shifted in the seat. «Will you help me?»
Silence fell for a few moments as he took a turn staring out of the window, thinking. She mentally crossed her fingers and waited patiently, saying nothing, just hoping he’d be curious enough to do as she asked.
Then he made a slight sound and reached for the ignition. «Fasten your seat belt.»
It’s not every day a woman faces down the bitch who owns her man’s soul.
Dark Currents
© 2010 Mima
Elementals, Book 1
Xia is sick and tired of having her ass served to her every bloody night. Exhausted, she soldiers on, working the Scottish dream beat alone, seeking to identify those who plot to awaken Aqua, one of the four slumbering elements. Should Aqua fully open her eyes, she won’t be happy until she picks her teeth with the bones of the last human on earth.
When an assassin tags Xia, her new guardian arrives — a seal shifter linked to the very element she fears. Adam is certain that Markos, Xia’s boss and sometimes lover, is putting her in unnecessary danger. But Xia has tasted the inhuman cruelty that is Aqua and will do anything to stop her, even relive a terrifying, perilous spell.
Now that Adam has been assigned to protect her witchy spirit wanderings, Xia has to trust him. It isn’t his power or ability she’s uneasy about, but the fact he’ll have to take all the pain meant for her.
Then the Chamber ruthlessly deploys Xia and Adam in a dangerous ritual. Adam can protect her body and defend her mind…but nothing can safeguard her from the backlash of the world-changing knowledge she discovers.
Warning: This adventure is blatantly Scottish and dives into save-the-world sex with two of the hunkiest magical men you’ll ever meet.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Dark Currents:
When Xia shuffled into the kitchen, still finger-combing her hair, she stopped in awe. An acre of food stretched out along the counter space between the living room and the kitchen. Sausage and bacon and toast and fish and scrambled eggs and jam and butter and scones and yogurt and granola and Cheerios and strawberries and orange juice and a china teapot that was not hers, along with a new two-cup personal coffee brewer.
«Whaaa?»
Adam stood in the kitchen, wearing the clothes he’d come in with last night. He clicked off the stove and slid the crunchy mess onto a plate. He added it to the last spot on the counter.
Taking the serving platter she’d never used from the highest cupboard shelf, he began to fill it with a bit of everything. «I need to leave in a few minutes.»
Xia closed her gaping mouth with a snap of her teeth. «Good morning.»
«Aye.»
See, now, this man was going to drive her to drink. During br
eakfast. «Where did all this come from?»
«Anne.»
«Anne? Delivered this?»
«Most of it, aye.»
«How do you know Anne?»
He just slid a look at her and went to sit in the living room. With his platter.
«I didn’t know she opened so early.»
«She doesn’t.» He began to eat the food like he’d never seen any before.
Xia looked over the impressive outlay. «The teapot is beautiful. Is it hers?»
«’Tis yours.»
Delighted, Xia picked it up, studying the wild roses hand-painted on the side. «Really? Where’d you find it?»
«I asked Anne to pick a nice one.»
Oh. She put it down. «Adam, what is all this?»
«Breakfast.»
She was going to brain him with the lovely teapot. She got a mug and filled it half-full with honey, then poured her tea. Taking it to the couch, she sat next to him. Maybe it was time to buy a chair, a nice lady’s recliner. He stood and went to the counter, filling his plate again.
«Are you going to eat any of the pudding and kippers?»
«No, thank you. I don’t care for meat at breakfast.»
He shoveled it all onto his plate and sat back down, eating with a steady motion. Between bites, he managed, «Only one nightmare, and I detected no magic in it.»
Xia froze. A sudden image flashed and faded in her brain. A tiny round boat, a rawhide stretched over a wood frame, very old, strangely deep, but the edge rode only a few inches above the water. A storm blowing up. She crouched in it, wearing a wool dress and leather shoes that were cold and wet. Staring up at the seething sky, she despaired as the gray water around her began to toss.
Looking over at Adam, she blinked to see him considering her as he thoughtfully munched through a strip of bacon. His eyes looked flat today.
She snapped, «You look like Macgregor with your jaw working like that.»
He nodded. «There’s something you should know.» Standing, he put his platter in the sink and poured a glass of orange juice in his coffee mug. Ewww. «Do you remember the nightmare you had last night? Of being in a boat on a stormy loch?»
«Just a bit.»
He nodded, his gaze going far away, a tic pulsing twice in his jaw before he downed the juice and set the mug gently on the counter.
«I cooked. You get the dishes.»
She bit her lip against her protest. The mountain of dishes in the sink, the four pans on the stove, and the still-full army of offerings on the counter was not what she preferred to face in the morning. Drawing in a deep breath, she kept back her words. She did not want to start this partnership arguing over dishes. They’d work out their patterns soon enough. At this point she didn’t know if this was his preference after a night watching over her, or an offering to her, like a gift for a hostess.
He went to the door and bent to pull on his battered hiking shoes. He now had wool socks on. She tried not to look, but couldn’t help glancing at his ass as he presented it so. His jeans were old and outlined the hard globes nicely. Pulling open the door, he said, «Around seven?»
That would give them an hour before sunset. It would be enough if they were merely facing a normal dreamtime foray, but for what Markos had in that letter…
«Just a minute.»
She went and got the letter from the top of the TV. Handing it to him, she said, «Read this today. Come earlier if you can.»
He turned it over, his thumb brushing over Markos’s emblem. «You haven’t opened it.»
Crossing her arms, she shrugged. «I know what’s in it, mostly.»
He stared at her, but she couldn’t hold that black gaze.
«Your dream was mine.»
«Pardon?»
«Last night. In the currach. ’Twas Meg’s death.»
Xia blinked at him, her throat swelling shut as her body utterly froze. Her heart gave one hard thump, her brain reverberating with his words, understanding them, but stupidly denying it. «What is a currach?»
His face looked as frozen as she felt. «The little ox-hide boat you were in is a currach, at least as they were then. Meg. My first wife. She was a sprite. She drowned in Loch Mhòrair in a sudden storm. I wasn’t there, you see.»
Xia felt her heart thump again. I don’t know what to say. «What does it mean, that I dreamed her memory?»
«That nightmare wasn’t yours. ’Twas mine. It means naught but that we will work well together.»
She stared at him for another heartbeat. He tucked Markos’s letter into his back pocket and went out into the morning mist, closing the door. Xia blinked at it. They’d work well together? Her own nightmares weren’t enough, now she was having his? His Rover revved, and he turned on the lawn and went away. She’d have to tell him not to always turn on the lawn or he’d ruin it. Long after he’d gone, she was able to move again, stiffly.
Revolving, she stared at the decadent food spread before her, stomach churning and the taste of anguish in her mouth.
FB2 document info
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Document creation date: 28.03.2011
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Moira Rogers
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