by Cat Adams
Yeah, I’d love to have her along because we always have a great time together and we haven’t been spending as much time around each other as we used to. It would also save me cab fare. “I was thinking about going right now. It’s not officially your lunch hour. Ron will have a fit.”
Dawna gave me a grin of pure delight. “Not a problem. Watch this.” She picked up the handset and pressed two digits before turning on the speaker. “Ron?”
“Yes?” He sounded impatient and brusque—so pretty much normal.
“I need to go to lunch early and I’ll probably be back late. I need to get some shopping done.” Oh, man! That was just asking for a screaming match. Ron hated shopping. He felt it was a complete waste of time and had once harangued Dawna for being ten minutes late when she’d gone to pick up office supplies.
There was a long pause and I hovered over her desk, waiting to have to jump in and defend her. My jaw dropped when he responded: “That’s fine. Just put a note on the door. I’ll catch the phone until you get back.”
Dawna looked far too self-satisfied when she answered. “Thanks, Ron. Be back soon.” Oh, there was definitely a story there and I would know it before the end of the trip.
She made a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen up while I slathered sunscreen on every open piece of skin; then we hurried out to the lot and her trusty Honda. I managed to wait until we were safely inside the car where nobody could hear me scream; I did. “Ahhh! What did you do with the real Ron? I don’t want him suing me because you put some kind of spell on him.”
She laughed long and loud until I finally joined her. God, it felt good to laugh, even if it was the nervous kind. She put the car in gear and let me stew for a minute while she pulled into traffic. “It’s okay. I earned a little reward. I’ve been here since two.”
“Two? A.M.? You’re kidding me! Why in the world did you come in so early?”
She stifled a yawn as she pulled to a careful stop at the traffic light on the corner. She rolled down the window, savoring a breeze that was fresh, if cold. “He needed a notary. One of his clients had to fly to Europe and that tropical storm over Bermuda was worrying him. He wanted to sign his will before he boarded the plane. I told Ron he owed me … several.” She lowered her sunglasses to the tip of her nose. “This is the first.”
Hard to argue with that logic. I relaxed and rode, not even caring about the gulls circling above like tiny white vultures, until we pulled up to Levy’s Custom Apparel. Isaac Levy is a good man and a good friend—we’ve known each other for years. His specialty is suit jackets tailored and spelled in such a way that you can carry an arsenal without any of it showing, but still having everything available at hand for a quick draw. His clothes are expensive as hell, but worth every penny.
Someone pulled out of a space just as we got there and Dawna managed to slip into the spot a hair’s breadth quicker than a blonde in a Mercedes.
Thankfully, I had to take only a few wobbling steps to cross from the glare of the morning sun that made me squint and caused a sudden throbbing in my head into the relative darkness of the shop. The sudden shift from light to dark made my head pound even harder, although that didn’t make any sense. Even before I blinked the tears from my eyes I knew Isaac Levy was in the shop, thanks to the scent of his signature cologne and the uneven footfalls caused by a bum knee.
Isaac Levy is one of those people you can’t really forget once you meet them. The ring of wiry salt-and-pepper hair, the bushy eyebrows over piercing brown eyes, the bulbous nose—he’s not really attractive, but he’s intelligent, funny, and utterly unique. He’s also an amazing magical technician. Besides the jackets he does artifact work. Charms, weapons, he’s the best of the best. He’s been married to the love of his life for umpteen years, having won her away from Morris Goldstein, a wealthy jeweler. Isaac promised her that if she’d give him a chance, he’d give her twice as much jewelry as Morris would. He’s done his best to keep that promise. The woman practically clanks when she walks. Even the most overdecorated rapper would be jealous.
“Celia, Dawna. How are you lovely ladies?” Isaac reached and took my hand, bestowing a breath of kiss on the skin. Aww … how can you not love the guy? “Darlings, it’s so good to see you.” He gave us each a huge hug, then took a step back, looking me critically up and down.
“You need to eat more. And you’re pale. Even for you.” It was friendly scolding, but there was real concern beneath it.
“Actually, this is normal now,” I said sadly. “The vampire thing.”
He let out a small growl. “I’d hoped it would … well, get better.”
“No. It’s sort of permanent,” I assured him. “But I’m okay. Just … pale.” I turned to Dawna, who was looking around with wide eyes. I didn’t really blame her. The place was like the TARDIS, bigger inside than out, and filled with the coolest things. But even I was impressed this time. There was another whole new section of the store with shelf upon shelf of gadgets and magical equipment, like crystals, crystal balls, and other magical foci.
But that wasn’t where Dawna was staring. No, her eyes had locked on a set of glass cases dead in the center of the store. It was a brightly lit display of holy item jewelry for every religion I’d ever heard of, and a few more that I hadn’t.
“Wow. You’ve made even more changes.” I walked around the room with Isaac following at my heels, taking in every reaction to what I saw. I finally stopped back where I started, next to the wall-mounted display of charm disks.
He gave me a brilliant smile. “Do you like it? Ira Sachs decided to retire and made me an offer on the building. And this way Gilda and I can work together without stepping on each other’s toes.”
I nodded. The place looked great and I saw a lot of things I’d been lusting after online but hadn’t had the chance to handle. I’m a tactile person. I need to see a charm or weapon, see if I can draw it or use it instinctively. I could see myself writing a big check today.
I looked around for Dawna. As I’d expected, she was busy looking at the jewelry counter. I still had my back to the door when I heard a voice behind me. “I thought I saw your car outside. You haven’t been returning my calls, young lady.” The light baritone was amused and was accompanied by a wave of powerful magic that made my skin tingle. I tried not to react but failed.
I answered without turning around and could feel him stepping closer as his magic slid across my bare skin as though I didn’t have a stitch on. “What are you doing here, Creede?”
“Back to last names so soon?” The whisper of fine silk caressed my ear as he leaned against the wall next to me. He knew exactly what he did to me when he was close. “I thought we went to first names on our last date.” I inhaled the scent of expensive cologne on clean skin and knew I was going to regret turning around, though I knew I had to.
“And who is this?” Isaac examined John closely, and I knew he could tell me more about the man from what he was and wasn’t wearing and how he held himself than most detectives could after a full week of research.
I sighed and turned. “Isaac Levy, John Creede, owner and one of the founders of Miller and Creede. John, this is Isaac. He’s a dear friend of mine, does all of my jackets, and most of my holsters and weaponry orders. He’s the best in the business.”
Isaac smiled even more broadly at the compliment, extending a chubby, ring-bedecked hand. After all, who in the business of security hadn’t heard of M&C? They’re the biggest and best in the business, and Creede’s the primary reason for that.
Creede gave the proffered hand a firm shake. “I’ve always admired Celia’s choice of equipment. I met your lovely wife on my last visit, but I’ve been wanting to meet you personally. You’re a talented charm maker.”
Isaac nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment.
Creede looked good, but then, he always did. His hair was a touch longer than last time I saw him. The golden curls made him look less severe. But the honey-colored eyes that were directly across from mine
were still filled with amber fire that flickered and pulled at my stomach. It was intentional and he knew I knew. All I could do was either give in to the teasing or leave. Since I had shopping to do, I guess I was in for some squirming.
I asked the obvious question, because in the circles Creede ran in, Levy’s store was slumming. “And what brings you to this part of town?” Actually, he’d been in the store before, but Isaac hadn’t been here. But as far as Isaac was concerned, nobody had been in until he spoke with them personally.
Creede dipped his head toward Isaac and raised the bag in his hand I hadn’t seen until now. “I thought I might have some jackets tailored. I want to change where I carry some of my weapons without anyone noticing.”
“Nobody does better work than Isaac.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.” He winked at me. “Well, part of why I’m here.”
“Quality work takes time,” Isaac warned.
“I don’t mind. I’ve just noticed that the craftsmanship in Celia’s equipment seems to be better than in mine. And I can’t have that.”
Isaac laughed.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll take a look around the place.” John had wandered plenty last time he was here with me, but he was at least trying to be polite and give me some time alone with Isaac.
“Not at all. Make yourself at home. Celia and I have things to discuss.” John wandered off happily. I, on the other hand, was left scrambling. Because, like his wife, what Isaac likes to discuss most are my marriage prospects, or lack thereof. Given a chance, and a gender switch, he’d be the world’s biggest yenta. I needed a change of subject—fast.
“Isaac, do you have protection charms that will hold off demons?”
He leaned in and elbowed me lightly in the ribs, his eyes fixed squarely on Creede’s nicely packaged backside. “Keep that one close and you won’t have to worry about demons. He glows with magic.”
“It’s not like that, Isaac. It’s just business.” Actually it might be like that. Or not. I was never sure with Creede. When we both had time we would sometimes go out. But we almost never had time. He was, if anything, more of a workaholic than me; something I would never have believed possible.
And then there was Bruno.
He seemed to read my mind. “Let me guess. Bruno.” The way he said the name held a world of disapproval.
Both Isaac and Gilda think Bruno did me wrong, and they’re not inclined to forgive him for it. Still, Isaac is wise enough not to push … much.
“Anyway,” I continued quickly, “I have a problem, and I’m hoping one of those boxes has the solution.”
“Really?” He tilted his head to the side, in a gesture much like a curious bird. “Tell me about it.”
I told him what had happened as simply as I could. During the explanation his expression grew serious, his eyes going nearly black and narrowing with suspicion. “Do you think it’s part of that rift from last December?”
I shrugged. I frankly didn’t know. “Could be. But this felt very different. I don’t know if it’s serious, but I want to be protected as best as possible.”
“Anything that can slip in and out of Federal police barriers is serious, Celia. Let me look around. I have some new things in back that might work.”
“Sure. I’ll check out the jewelry.”
His smile got a little wider and a lot more acquisitive. “Yes. You do that.”
I joined Dawna at the counter. She was examining a delicate gold and garnet cross that I realized might be a nice present for Gran for her birthday.
Creede appeared at my side. “I have something I want you to see, over here.” He put a firm, no-nonsense hand on my elbow and guided me away from Dawna. He wasn’t normally that aggressive, so I went along without protest. It was likely he wanted to talk to me about something work related and didn’t want to make a private issue public.
He led me to the medical magic section, one of my favorites. Spells could cure a host of ills, from simple cuts and scrapes to broken bones. I scanned the tiny identifying labels under each carefully packed box. “See anything here for demon possession?”
He pulled in a sharp breath. “Is that what’s wrong with you?” A small growl followed the words and his voice lowered to a whisper. “Jesus, Celia, why didn’t you call me and why are you just walking around the streets? C’mon, we need to get you to a priest.”
His urgency startled me and I pulled back from his frantic grasp on my wrist. “Creede, slow down. I’m fine. I haven’t been possessed—at least not in the past few months. Why are you so jumpy today?”
He let go of my arm and leaned back to stare at me quizzically like I’d grown a second head. His arms crossed over his chest and his chin lowered. “I got a call from Dr. Jean-Baptiste about a particular spell. I decided to check you out myself without you expecting me.”
He got a call? So he was one of the “experts” the doctor mentioned? Jeez, I could have done that myself without dinging my credit card for a specialist.
Creede continued to talk. “The last time I saw you limp like that, you had a bleeding leg full of glass shards. You’re squinting at the slightest hint of bright light. Your magical aura is all wrong. Something is definitely wrong with you. Talk to me, Celia, or you might find yourself trying out that body-binding charm I made for you while I take you to a hospital.”
Okay, that was several levels above disturbing. “My magical … what? I don’t have an aura.”
He sighed. “Yes, you do. You’re supernatural. Vampires have auras and so do sirens. You have a very distinct pattern that’s not like anyone else’s, and it’s not the same today as it was the last time we had dinner together. There’s something chewing at it. The colors around your head are scrambled and weird looking. Demonic possession would definitely do that.”
Could a demonic entity have been housed inside the bomb casing? That would certainly have been dangerous enough to warrant a metal case. Crap. “That honestly never occurred to me. But I’ve had a headache I can’t shake since the problem at the school. And my leg hurts every time I put weight on it.”
That made his frown deepen and he looked around the room before pulling me to an ornate chair outside the dressing rooms in the back of the store—the store’s grudging acknowledgment that not everybody likes to shop. “You’ve had the problem that long? He didn’t give me your name for confidentiality reasons, or details other than asking about a spell affecting your memory.” He snorted in amusement. “But seriously … how many half-vampire women with siren blood are there in town?” He stared at me for a long moment. “Sit.”
I did. He straddled my legs so that he could look down on the top of my head. He began to whisper a spell that was too soft to make out and I felt power flow from his fingers, his very skin. It was like lowering myself into a heated pool. The sensation of pulsing magic made me warm and drowsy and very relaxed.
That is, until his hands hovered over my hair. The gesture was gentle, so soft it bordered on tickling. But my skin instantly began to tingle and the pleasurable shivers that ran down my spine were so hard that I had to curl my toes to stop myself from shuddering visibly.
But Creede wasn’t trying to tease me. He was utterly serious as he traced his fingers over my hair without moving a single strand. A golden glow filled my vision until the room disappeared from view. My brain felt fuzzy and I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything other than the buzz of white noise in my ears. My insides were liquid with feelings I shouldn’t be having in the middle of a weapons store. When he reached my shoulders he stopped and I flicked my gaze up to see his furrowed brow. The flames in his eyes grew until they were the eyes of a cat caught by a flashlight after dark. “There’s a spell at work here. No question. It’s not demonic, but it’s amazingly complex. I understand why Dr. Jean-Baptiste couldn’t unwind it.”
Crap. “What kind of spell?” I could hear the sudden fear in my voice and my heartbeat sped up to match my quickened breath.
&nb
sp; Creede knelt in front of me, his hands still on my shoulders. His gaze locked with mine and the compassion in his eyes made me believe the words he spoke next. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. I promise.” His fingers squeezed just a bit. “All right?”
A promise from him could be put in the bank. “Okay. Thanks. What should I do until then?”
The corner of his mouth turned up a fraction and his hands moved until they were on either side of my face. “Quit trying to be superwoman. Ask for help when you’re hurt. Remember that if you’re hurt, it’s serious.”
It sounded so logical when he said it. But … “That’s not so easy for me.”
The quirk of a smile became an amused flash of teeth. “Tell me about it.” Without any warning, he leaned forward and eased his lips against mine. I found myself being pulled into the kiss before I realized what was happening. His hand slid around my head, fingers twining in my hair, and my eyes closed automatically. I leaned into him before I realized I was doing it. My breath froze in my lungs and I couldn’t seem to think past the dual sensations of magic and gentle pressure as he slowly moved his soft, full lips against mine. Warm breath on my cheek, magic sweet as candy, and the caress of his tongue made my knees weak and my stomach do flip-flops. His hand, lightly stroking my hair, sent electric shocks to my scalp. It was a good thing I was sitting down. My heart began pounding hard and my fingers buried themselves in the fabric of the armrests to keep from wrapping around him and pulling him into my lap. I wanted to … a lot. The strength of the desire terrified me.
The kiss was probably over in seconds, though it felt like it lasted a week. He drew back slowly and I wound up suspended, eyes closed, enjoying the remaining pull of the magic that tugged at my stomach. A quick, nearly chaste kiss in the back of a store shouldn’t really be that big a deal.
Right.
The fuzzy tingles ended as quickly as they’d begun, when he yanked several hairs right out of the top of my head, causing my startled, “Ow! Damn it, John! What was that for?” My hand went to the source of the pain and I rubbed while he held up his prize to the fluorescent lights overhead and inspected the strands.
