by Lori Sjoberg
“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” Elias slapped his hands against the sides of his pants, his voice raising almost a full octave. “How was I supposed to know she’d move at the last second?”
Jeremiah bit back a growl. “That’s not the point. You should have waited until I got back.”
“You heard the recording; they would have been gone by then.”
True, but that still didn’t justify his actions. Now everything was shot to hell. He’d been so careful, taking every precaution to ensure he left no trace behind. How was he supposed to know the creature possessed an enhanced sense of smell? Now that he knew, he’d take it into consideration when he finalized his next plan of action.
And then there was the question of the man who’d been with her inside her apartment. From what he gathered, the two were involved. Who was he? Was he human? If he wasn’t they’d have to broaden their plans to include capturing him as well.
With the listening device still active in the kitchen, he’d know if she returned to the apartment. And if she didn’t return, he could still monitor her movements through the GPS tracker he’d affixed to the underside of her vehicle’s wheel well.
While he completed the final touches to the trailer, he’d allow the target to move about freely. Sooner or later, she’d lower her guard and slip back into her daily routine. And when she did, he’d be ready to press the advantage.
So much for staying away from Marlena.
In Adam’s defense, going to the witch’s house wasn’t his idea. Cassie had called him earlier in the morning with news she’d created another potion for Samuel. And after everything that happened last night with the demon, he was itching to get the boss out of his home.
Still, his pulse raced at the thought of seeing Marlena again. He missed the taste of her, the sweet smell of her skin, the little sounds she made when they kissed. Come to think of it, he missed every damn thing about her. She consumed his thoughts, asleep and awake, and he couldn’t wait to get her alone.
But first, he had business to take care of. Adam rang the doorbell to Cassie’s home, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while he waited for someone to answer. He raised his hand to cover a yawn wide enough to make his jaw pop.
God, he was fucking exhausted. By the time he’d patched up the dog and cleaned the disaster inside his house, it was well past three in the morning. And since he had a job on the highway an hour and a half later, he hadn’t bothered going to bed. Since then, he’d been mainlining coffee and M&M’s just to keep his bleary eyes open.
“Be there in a minute!” the witch called out from inside. About ten seconds later, the locks disengaged, and the door opened to reveal Cassie’s cheerful face. “Wow, that was quick.”
“Well, I wasn’t too far away.” He smiled. Something about the old woman lifted his spirits, but he couldn’t quite pin down what it was. “Is Marlena around by any chance?” Her car wasn’t in the driveway, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t in the garage.
“No, I’m afraid she’s out running errands.”
The witch didn’t seem very happy about that, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her. After what happened last night, he’d rather have Marlena locked tight inside Cassie’s house until the police arrested her assailants.
Cassie opened the door a little wider. “Why don’t you come inside?”
“Sure, but I can’t stay for long.” Even though his next appointment wasn’t until late in the evening, he wanted to get back to the house to make sure there weren’t any more demon problems.
Adam followed Cassie past the foyer and into the spacious kitchen. The floors and counters were sparkling clean, while the sink was filled with soapy water with a few pots and pans soaking in it. The stench of pawpaw hung heavy in the air, reminding him of the time he’d spent with Marlena in the muddy field. Then the field made him think of the kiss at the flea market, which in turn made him think of all the things he wanted to do with her once he got her good and naked. And he would. It was only a matter of time.
A large brown jug with a black screw-on cap sat on the granite counter by the stove. Beside it was a clear plastic bag containing a folded-up sheet of paper and what appeared to be little packets of dried herbs. Cassie picked up both and handed them to Adam.
“Since the last potion didn’t do the trick, I brewed up the nuclear option when it comes to dark magic removal. If this doesn’t work, your friend’s out of luck.” She tapped the jug with her index finger. “He needs to drink eight ounces at midnight and then every two hours afterward until the bottle is empty. Once he drinks the last dose, have him mix the herbs in the bag with his bathwater and scrub his entire body from head to toes. If he misses a single spot, it won’t work. Understood?”
“Absolutely. Should I refrigerate the potion or keep it at room temperature?”
Cassie shrugged. “Whichever way your friend prefers. Either way won’t affect the potency.”
“Sounds good.” He couldn’t think of any other questions to ask. “Thanks for all your help.”
“My pleasure. There’s also an incantation he’ll need to perform while he mixes the bath water. I wrote it down in the notes.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a gold chain with a polished black crystal attached. “This is for you. Once the dark magic is banished from your friend, it’ll try to seek out a new host. The tourmaline will prevent it from latching onto you.”
She went up on her tiptoes and fastened the chain around his neck. The stone felt warm against his bare skin, almost like it was alive.
“There’s three more in the bag,” Cassie continued as she came back down on her heels. “For your friend, and for Dmitri and his wife. Make sure they wear them.”
“Gotcha. How long before it’s okay to take them off?”
The old witch pressed her lips together as if thinking it over. “Couple days, usually. Dark magic breaks down quickly without a host. But it’s better to leave them on for a full week, just to be safe.”
“Will do. Thanks again. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
She smiled, and the tiny lines around her eyes fanned out and deepened. “You’re very welcome. Let me know how it goes.”
Lord, he hoped this worked. The thought of having Samuel in his house for much longer nearly made him break out into hives. The man was a class-one pain in the ass, and he was getting tired of listening to him bitch and moan about every little thing. Not to mention Dmitri and Gwen were coming close to pounding their former boss into a pulp.
With a hand on his arm, Cassie walked him to the door. She glanced up at him, her eyes glinting with curiosity. “You like my Marley, don’t you?”
Like there was any question. “I’d be a fool not to.”
“Hmm. That’s what I thought.”
Adam paused with his hand on the knob. He sensed a note of tension in the witch, as if she wanted to say something but was concerned about how he’d react. “Are you worried about me hurting her? If you are, I can assure you—”
“Oh, no,” the witch said with a light laugh and a shake of her head. “It’s nothing like that. Marley’s a big girl, and she’s more than capable of taking care of herself.”
Okay, then. Obviously, something was on the witch’s mind, but he was clueless as to what it actually was. “Then what are you trying to tell me?”
Cassie paused, chewing her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t—she’ll kill me when she finds out—but I’m going to do it anyway.” The old witch looked him up and down, a strange expression playing over her face. “You have an old soul,” she said at last. “Do you have any idea just how old?”
Adam studied the old woman over the space of a few heartbeats, trying to decide if she was serious or just messing with him. “Afraid not, but I’m guessing you do.”
She nodded. “Somewhere in the neighborhood of four hundred years.”
Definitely not the answer he’d been expecting. Actually, he wasn’t sure what to expect, but it sure
as hell wasn’t that. “And you know this how?”
“Marley told me.”
Okay, that didn’t make sense. “How would she know?”
“Because she knew you when your name was Christopher Johannes Walther.” She paused a beat before adding, “Her husband.”
By the time Marlena arrived at her apartment, the maintenance crew had already removed the broken front window and replaced it with a new one. The two young workers were outside packing up their tools as she walked to her front door.
“Thanks, guys,” she said as she slid her key in the lock.
“No problem, Ms. Walther. We also patched the holes in your wall.” The taller man scowled. “I still can’t believe someone shot up your window.”
“Yeah, me neither,” the other man chimed in. “We’ve never had anything like this happen before. Any idea who did it?”
Marlena shook her head even though she had a good idea who was responsible. “I wish I knew. You boys haven’t seen anyone hanging around the building, have you?”
“Nah, but I’ll let you know if I do.”
“Thanks.” She entered the apartment and locked the door behind her.
The place reeked of the maintenance men, but if she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, she could still catch a faint whiff of the killer. She also picked up the distinct scent of Adam, all dark and musky and inherently male. She focused on Adam’s more pleasant aroma and the memories that came along with it. The feel of his body pressing hers against the carpet. His hands on her. His mouth on her. That kiss. Oh, God, that kiss. If the cops hadn’t come knocking at the door, she probably would have screwed him right there on the living room floor, broken glass, bullets, and all.
The heat in her body vanished at the thought of the vial in her purse. She reached inside, retrieved the tiny bottle, and held it up to the light. Had she made a mistake by not slipping Adam the potion to restore Christopher’s memories? Although she couldn’t say for sure, her gut told her no. She’d come to like Adam for the man he was without any outside influences from the past. It made her feel like a traitor to her husband, but she couldn’t help the way she felt inside. She loved Christopher and she always would, but maybe it was time to let go of the past and see what the future had in store.
Decision made, she blew out a breath and cleared the clutter from her mind. Somewhere the killers were plotting their next move, and she wanted to make certain the apartment was secure before moving back in. As much as she loved Cassie’s company, she also valued her privacy. And when—not if—she took Adam to bed, she didn’t want to worry about anyone overhearing them from the next room.
Moving to the kitchen, she set the vial on the counter. She tossed out the overripe bananas and poured the sour milk down the drain. And since the lunch meat had gotten slimy, she threw that in the trash as well. The rest of the groceries seemed okay, but she wasn’t sure if she’d feel safe eating anything that had already been opened. For all she knew, the sick bastards might have slipped something inside.
“Shit.” That meant her grocery list just got a lot longer. Dragging the garbage can across the linoleum, she opened the refrigerator and pitched everything that could be contaminated. She hated wasting so much food, but there was no way of knowing if any of it had been tampered with. Finished, she tied up the bulging bag and set it outside her front door.
With that out of the way, she moved on to the task of making the apartment more secure. She changed out the locks and installed a dead bolt and chain. Then she spent the next two hours wiring an alarm system into every window and door. If anyone broke in, the alarm would go off, and it was set loud enough to wake the dead. It was also programmed into her phone, so if she was away when the alarm was triggered, she could alert the police or disarm the system remotely.
Satisfied with her handiwork, she packed up her tools and returned them to the closet. Dirty and sweaty, she went to the kitchen to clean her face and get a can of Mountain Dew from the fridge. She leaned back against the counter and chugged almost half of the can.
When she laid one hand against the counter, her fingers brushed against something underneath.
“What the hell?” She jerked her hand back. Oh, God, don’t let it be a palmetto bug. She hated those things. She hadn’t seen any in the apartment since the last time they sprayed, but that didn’t mean the suckers were gone for good. Crouching low, she peered under the counter and frowned.
The device she found was small and round, about the size of a nickel, and made of some kind of black plastic. It was fastened to the underside of the counter with adhesive, but she was able to pry it loose with a butter knife.
By no means was she any kind of spy, but she had a pretty good idea what it was. The thought of someone violating her privacy made her stomach churn. How long had it been there? Days? Weeks? Months? Was it there before she’d been taken prisoner, or had it been placed there afterward? And most important, were there any others inside her home?
For the rest of the morning and a good chunk of the afternoon, she went over every square inch of her apartment. She scrutinized every crack and crevice, even looking inside the air-conditioning vents and checking under the washer and dryer. When she finished, she was dusty and disheveled, but she felt better in the knowledge that she hadn’t found any more bugs.
Now only one question remained: What should she do with the one she’d found in the kitchen? Her first impulse was to toss it down the garbage disposal and grind it to bits. But what if she could use it to her advantage? She had no idea if it was even possible, but she didn’t want to dismiss the idea without asking someone who knew more about electronics.
One person came to mind, and as much as she hated asking for his help, she couldn’t think of anyone else. Carefully, she picked up the bug, sealed it inside a sandwich bag, and put it in the freezer. It probably wasn’t the best place in the world to store it, but at least it couldn’t eavesdrop on her while it was in there. Then she retrieved her phone from her back pocket and scrolled through her list of contacts.
Chapter 16
“My name is Adam Michael Javorski, son of Phyllis and William. I was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois. I was a lieutenant with the Chicago Police Department. And I am not a goddamn reboot from the seventeenth century.”
Adam’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned bone-white. He’d been muttering the same thing over and over again ever since he left the old witch’s house, but it wasn’t doing a damn bit of good to loosen the knot in his stomach. He merged into traffic heading east on Colonial Drive, his thoughts so scattered it was a miracle he hadn’t caused an accident.
All his life, he’d had a sharply defined sense of who he was and what he was meant to be. He’d lost the latter when he died and came back as a reaper, and now the witch’s words chipped away at everything he thought he knew about himself.
“No way.” He refused to believe it. He was not some asshole from the 1600s. He was Adam. He’d always been Adam.
Maybe on the outside, said the nagging voice inside his head that he wished would shut the fuck up. But your core is recycled material.
How could it possibly be true? And if it was, why didn’t Marlena tell him?
According to Cassie, he shared a mate bond with Marlena that carried over into his new life. Was that why he felt so damn attracted to her? If so, it might explain why he’d never felt a lasting connection with anyone else. Sure, he’d slept with a lot of women over the years, but he’d never stayed in a relationship with anyone for more than a few months at a time.
Mate bond or not, he bristled at the idea of being fated to fall in love with one particular woman. It was bad enough knowing he’d been destined to die when he did. But to not have a choice over whom he loved made him feel like a goddamn puppet. Just how much control did he have over his own fucking life?
When he stopped at the light at Colonial and Alafaya, he powered up his phone and dialed Marlena’s number. After four
rings the call dumped into voice mail, and he hung up without leaving a message. Frustrated, he dialed the one person he knew who might be able to offer impartial advice.
“What’s up, Newbie?” David Anderson asked when he answered the call. He’d been Adam’s mentor when he first became a reaper, showing him the tricks of the trade and kicking him in the ass whenever needed. And there’d been a lot of times when it had been needed. If not for David, Adam probably wouldn’t have made it through that turbulent first year.
“I need your take on a situation.” After drawing a deep breath, he gave David a quick rundown of his supposed past life and his mate bond with Marlena. When he finished, he asked, “What do you think?”
“I didn’t even know shifters existed,” David said. “Learn something new every day.”
Adam growled with impatience. The light turned green and he hit the gas, riding the rear bumper of the Honda Accord ahead of him. “What about the other stuff? Is it true?”
“Honestly? I can’t tell you if it’s true or not. But considering all the weird shit that’s out there, I suppose it’s possible. Have you talked to the shifter about it?”
“I tried, but she’s not answering her phone.”
David didn’t say anything right away. “Let me ask you this: Do you like her? I mean aside from the physical part. Is she the kind of woman you’d normally go for?”
“Hell yeah. I get hard every time I even think about her.”
The line went silent for a few beats. “I could have gone to the grave without knowing that.”
“Sorry.” Sometimes he forgot how old-school David was about discussing certain things. Cradling the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he shifted into fifth gear. “What if I’m only drawn to her because I’ve been programmed to act that way?”
And there it was, the thing that rubbed him the most. He hated the idea of not being in control of his own damn thoughts and feelings. It made him question every one of his decisions and left him wondering if he had free will at all.
