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Psychic Lies (Wiccan Haus Book Four)

Page 9

by Sara Daniel


  The room was empty, save for a single olive-skinned woman mopping the floor. Fiona’s paintings, easel and art supplies were gone. As a matter of fact, nothing in the room identified any sign of a guest’s presence. “Where’s Fiona?” he asked.

  The woman glanced at him and shrugged, as if she had no idea who he was talking about.

  “The woman who was staying here? Where did she go?” he demanded, touching her arm.

  The cleaning lady merely shrugged again. “I no ask questions. I only clean.”

  I no ask questions—truth.

  I only clean—truth.

  His truth powers worked just fine on her. “I think I lost a portal crystal in here. Did you find one?”

  “No crystal.”

  Truth.

  A small tremor shuttered almost imperceptibly through the floor. The portal had opened. Fiona could leave, and he wouldn’t know where to find her. Hell, he couldn’t even follow her without his crystal.

  Armando sprinted to the elevator, shoved two teenage Weres out of the doorway when it opened, dashed through the main Haus and down the labyrinth of hallways. Cyrus and Rekkus stood guard over the open portal. He looked frantically around the room, but Fiona wasn’t in the outgoing queue or anywhere else.

  “Did she already go through?”

  Cyrus glanced at him. “I should tell you ‘yes’ just to get rid of you.”

  He took that to mean she hadn’t, although he wouldn’t put it past Cyrus to use reverse psychology to throw him off. “I’ve lost my crystal. I can’t go through anyway.”

  “Haven’t you learned yet you’re not welcome here?” Rekkus shouted.

  Armando thought the were-tiger was talking to him until he saw Rekkus was restraining Dex, the bounty hunter who had been way too interested in Fiona last time.

  The thought of anyone putting his hands on Fiona filled Armando with rage. “If you rethink that policy about Syndicate investigations on your island, I’ll take Dex back and have him locked up for you,” he told Cyrus.

  “We’ll deal with him here,” Cyrus snarled, “but you sure as hell need to get a better guard over the crystals that are supposed to be for official Syndicate use and, even then, only in emergencies.”

  Dex’s eyes rolled back to reveal the purple set underneath. Armando felt the heat as the man’s blood-line laser raked over him.

  “Shit. She mated with you,” Dex said. “She’s of no use to me anymore.”

  Armando’s chest expanded in soul-deep satisfaction. Fiona had mated with him. She was his.

  “Fucking useless,” Dex repeated. “The missing triplet is my last chance. I’m running out of time to find her.” He jerked out of Rekkus’s grasp and dove through the portal just as the trembling of the closing began.

  Fiona was safe from that asshole, although Armando would look into the triplet connection as soon as he returned home to make sure the Syndicate put her unmated sisters under its protection. If she indeed had sisters, Fiona deserved to know about them too.

  “That’s a hell of a thing to do for the greater good,” Cyrus said to Armando.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mating to protect the Syndicate, instead of waiting for love.”

  The Syndicate had been the furthest thing from his mind when he’d been making love. He wasn’t altruistic enough that the greater good was always the first thing on his mind; even the reasons he’d returned to the island hadn’t been for the benefit of anyone but Fiona…and himself, to see her again. “She mated because she loves me.”

  “But you don’t love her?” Rekkus demanded.

  Armando opened his mouth and then closed it. Rekkus and Cyrus were the last people he’d choose to share his feelings with.

  In contrast, he wanted to share his most intimate thoughts with Fiona. He liked knowing that he had nothing to hide from her and couldn’t keep anything from her even if he wanted to. His heart was hers. His life was hers.

  If he could find her.

  Two days later, Armando still hadn’t seen Fiona anywhere on the island. But his daily punishing swims followed by long soaks in the hot springs had knocked some sense into him. He was proud of his truth-finding job and the work he did to keep people safe under Syndicate rule. But that didn’t mean everyone could or should do the same.

  Hell, the longer he went with this gaping hole in his heart, the more willing he was to walk away from the Department of Truth-Finding, the Syndicate, everything he’d ever known, as long as he could be with her.

  He climbed a steep hill into what turned out to be an apple orchard with trees that simultaneously blossomed and sported ripe red apples. Man, this island had everything. He plucked a bright red apple from one of the trees, polished it on his shirt, and took a bite. The tart, crisp flavor exploded in his mouth as he looked around the orchard.

  His heart nearly exploded too. Beyond an unassuming cabin, under the shade of another tree in all stages of bloom, the woman he loved faced him, sitting on a small stool in front of her easel, brush poised in hand.

  After two days sequestered in her cabin, Fiona had come to accept herself for who she was and what she’d done, regardless of what powers she did or didn’t have and the longing of her empty soul that she’d carry with her for eternity. The urge to paint outside had driven her beyond the cabin’s walls to enjoy the smells and sights of the orchard.

  And what a sight Armando made, reaching above his head to pluck an apple from the tree. His shirt lifted, revealing a patch of taut dark skin as he focused on cleaning the shiny surface. An expression of bliss relaxed his features as he bit into and savored the fruit.

  She wanted to sketch each movement and capture every nuance of his perfection with her paints. But she couldn’t focus on lines and shadow with her heart consumed by the closeness of a mate she could no longer touch. So, she simply stared across the orchard at him.

  Armando finished the apple and tossed the core aside. An eager squirrel caught it in midair and scampered away. His gaze met hers, and he walked toward her purposefully. “You’re staying out here now?”

  She nodded, her chest aching. “I talked to the Rowan siblings yesterday about getting that psychic suit you mentioned to put my powers to use for the Syndicate.” Her intentions weren’t exactly for the greater good since she was only doing it to be close to him, but her deceitful intentions in her years as a Vetter hadn’t been noble, either. She could take a job that her heart wasn’t in. If it put her in contact with Armando, so much the better.

  He shook his head. “If you want to paint, you should paint.”

  He hated her so much he didn’t even want her close to him for the sake of the greater good anymore?

  “Your portal crystal is inside the cabin,” she said, trying to focus on something that wouldn’t rip her heart out. “It must have fallen out of your pocket in my room, and Sage packed it up and sent it here when she moved my things. I can get it for you.”

  He knelt in front of her, threading her fingers with his before she could get up. “If I have to quit my job and move away from Syndicate headquarters to protect your secret so you can do what you love instead, I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

  She stared at him, scarcely daring to believe. He was still talking about her psychic powers, making a declaration she’d never dreamed possible.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said?” She squeezed his hand to make certain he knew she spoke the truth. “I’ll take a job with the Syndicate and use my powers for the greater good.”

  “That doesn’t work on me, remember? I don’t get a truth or lie rating from you anymore.”

  Right. Because she’d stolen the ability from him. She closed her eyes in regret. “I’m sorry. I wish I could give it back to you.”

  “Why? I don’t need it. You love me. That’s all I need. And I love you, Fiona. I can prove it to you.” He reached for the buttons on her bright yellow shirt.

  She stood up so fast that her stool tipped over, tangling with h
er multi-colored skirt. “I don’t want to use sex with you to get answers. I said I was willing to wear the psychic suit for you. Isn’t getting answers from everyone else enough?”

  “Then you’ll just have to believe me,” Armando said tenderly. “I love you, Fiona. I can’t mate with you, and my soul didn’t pick you. I picked you because I love you. I’ve been lost without you the past two days. I thought you’d at least come to the Haus for meals, but you didn’t, and this giant hag took over our table in the dining room.”

  She smiled. Later, she’d show him the costume Sage, Serena, and Trixie had helped her create.

  “I don’t care if you have powers or not,” Armando continued. “I want to build a life with you. If you don’t believe me, I don’t know how else to prove it to you besides asking you to sleep with me and use your powers. I have nothing to hide. My thoughts, my life are yours.”

  Never in all her years as a Vetter had she heard such a heartfelt proclamation of love, and this one was for her. Fiona didn’t need to make love to him to know that his thoughts would match his words. He loved her. He was her mate. “I love you, Armando Verdad. You might not need me to touch you to believe it, but I can’t stop touching you.”

  His lips curled into his trademark sexy grin. “That’s a completely different power, the strongest ever.”

  Fiona wrapped her arms around his neck. “Make love to me. You’ll give me an orgasm by thinking all those things you just said.”

  His lips brushed hers. “Your wish is my command. There’s just one more thing I have to do.” He reached into his pocket and held up a silver ring. “I told you I would come to you when I needed my lifebond vetted. What do you think our chances are for happiness?”

  She squeezed her hand over his on the ring and snuggled in his arms. She didn’t need to vet the lifebond. She just needed to speak the truth. “The best I’ve ever seen. I predict lots of amazing sex, undying love, and a lifebond that will last happily for eternity.”

  About the Author

  Sara Daniel writes what she loves to read—irresistible romance and captivating small-town drama. Her fiction inspires hope and a belief that everything can and will turn out happily ever after. On the personal side, Sara is a frazzled chauffeur, chef, personal assistant, and slave to her children. She’s crazy about country music and the drama of NASCAR. She has her very own happily ever after with her hero husband. In addition to Psychic Lies, she is also the author of Mr. Forever, The Wiccan Haus: A Man Worth Fighting For, More Than a Fantasy, Construction Beauty Queen, and Finally Ever After: Zane’s Art. You can learn more on her website:

  www.SaraDaniel.com

  Interested in writing for the Wiccan Haus?

  If you are interested in contributing to the shared world of Wiccan Haus, please send an email to:

  WiccanHaus@musapublishing.com

  You can also visit the Wiccan Haus blog at:

  http://thewiccanhaus.blogspot.com/

 

 

 


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