by Tl Reeve
“Hey,” he whispered as he knelt beside her on the bed. “Come on, wake up.”
She didn’t respond. He reached out and pushed at the strand of hair that had fallen over her face. When his fingers touched her skin, he felt a jolt of energy, as if he’d been shocked. He frowned and ran his fingers along her exposed arm. Her flesh buzzed under his. He didn’t remember this from the night before.
Finding his phone on the dresser, and mentally thanking the woman for removing his things before throwing his wet clothes in the tub, Nate stared at the low battery warning. He sent a text off to Hobbs and then grabbed his car keys from the ground beside the woman’s shoes and headed to the car for his extra phone charger.
When he returned, Blondie was still out. He sat and watched her sleep, noticing that her chest was moving with a steady breath. A good start. His hand traced the normal skin around the edges of his new scar, and his eyes darted around the room. He couldn’t find whatever tool she’d used on him.
“Hey, Blondie,” he said, no longer bothering to whisper.
He nudged the bed with his leg so it shook. Nothing. He leaned over her and studied her face. She seemed familiar in the light of day, and he hunted through the database of faces in his head, trying to match it. Not someone he’d met. But someone he’d seen in a photo.
His phone buzzed.
“Hobbs,” he answered.
“Evans, shit, are you okay?” She sounded relieved, but panic still quickened her words.
“Yes. Where are you?” He hoped she’d made it back to headquarters and had more information for him.
“Very long story.”
“I have time,” he replied. Her tone told him that something was up. Something he wasn’t going to like.
“Do you have Aubrey Dalton?”
“Aubrey Dalton? As in our boss, Walt Dalton?” Nate groaned and cursed under his breath. Hobbs had to be joking.
“Yes. Walt Dalton, our boss, his niece.” Suddenly Hobbs sounded normal again, teasing and talking slowly as if he were a child.
“Yeah, I have Blondie.” He looked down at the woman and grimaced. He was so fucked if he let anything happen to Dalton’s niece.
“You’re calling her that? I’m sure she loves it.”
“She’s not entirely conscious. Now care to explain what the fuck is going on?”
“Where are you?” And just like that, her tone was back to a strangled version of all-business-Hobbs. He didn’t like that. She was trying to be normal, but failing, and he had to assume she was purposefully letting him know through her tone that he shouldn’t let his guard down just yet.
“Are you alone?” It was the question they were trained to ask in response to that question.
“Where are you?”
“I see.” Nate ended the call and then turned off his phone. Hobbs couldn’t guarantee that she was alone, or at the very least, not under surveillance. And hopefully, whoever was after Dalton’s niece hadn’t traced that call. He threw the burner phone into the trash and turned back to the bed. Aubrey was still asleep.
He sat on the bed and ran his hand along her arm again, smiling at the buzzing sensation. Knowing she was Dalton’s niece didn’t sit well with him, but he couldn’t seem to stop touching her. The feeling was addictive.
He wanted to blame the sensation and his attraction to her on the power in the air around the winter solstice, but he’d never actually felt another witch’s power. Not like this. His grandmother had told stories about meeting the perfect witch, the one that made the power in your blood stand up and take notice. This particular witch had his entire body taking notice.
Walt Dalton’s niece. He just needed to keep that thought on repeat.
“Aubrey,” he said, face inches from hers. Faded green eyes fluttered open and then searched his face. From the look in her eyes, her mind was still half in the trenches of her subconscious.
“Tall, dark, and deadly, you’re alive,” she whispered, stretching out from her curled state and yawning. Her breasts slid up as if trying to free themselves from the modest bra she was wearing. He tried his best not to stare, even as he thought about reaching over and helping them on their journey.
“Nate,” he said.
“Hmm?” She blinked a few times.
“My name is Nate.” He should have said Detective Evans. That was the professional thing to do. But he hadn’t, and he didn’t want to analyze that just now.
“Oh, I see,” she said around another yawn, stretching again, her body moving as if stiff.
He fought to keep his eyes on her face. “So, I’m not entirely sure what’s going on, but we need to get moving soon. And our clothes are wet.”
“Wet?” She pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked around. “Why?”
“I washed the blood out.”
“No, why do we need to leave?” She didn’t seem to notice the fact she was sitting in the bed next to him in her underwear. Or if she did, she didn’t seem to care. Nate was starting to care. His boss’s niece—he had to keep reminding himself of that relationship—had one hell of a body. And it buzzed when he touched her. He wondered if that was isolated to her arms, or if her skin would hum wherever their flesh met.
Business. Keep it business.
“I think someone was tracking my phone call and they might know where we are,” he said to answer her question.
“Who?” She still looked half asleep.
“Not entirely sure.”
“So maybe we don’t need to leave.” She slid down into the bed and closed her eyes. He had to remind himself, again, this was his boss’s niece so he wouldn’t reach out and run his fingers down her arm again.
“Aubrey—” he began but stopped when her eyes popped open in surprise.
“What?” she sat up quickly. “You know my name? I thought you didn’t know who I am.”
He caught the laugh before it left his lips. “I didn’t actually abduct you. I’m protecting you.”
“From what?” She looked even more panicked as she scrambled off the bed.
“You don’t know?” How can she not know? Better question, why was I never properly briefed? Why don’t I know?
“No! Would I ask you why if I knew?” Her voice rose.
“Okay, let’s back up. Why were you at Festival?”
Nate allowed his eyes to trail over her when she closed her eyes in frustration. She was fit, but not overly thin. He guessed she worked out, but wasn’t obsessive about it, and he liked that she had a little extra curve around her hips. While his boss was a large burly man, she was more compact. In fact, he struggled to see a family resemblance between his salt and peppered haired boss, who had coal dark eyes, and this blonde with her refreshing spring green ones.
“A friend of mine invited me. I’d never been before, but thought it could be fun.” Aubrey explained. He watched her carefully while she talked. She was definitely lying.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Why would I lie?” She wandered her gaze over him, pausing on the scar on his chest with a concerned look.
“I’m wondering the same thing.” The air between them thickened. If he leaned in, the pulsing sensation under his skin intensified. So did the desire to touch her.
“I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” she asked suddenly, her eyes snapping up to his face.
“Your body still buzzing?” he asked, taking a step toward her. She inhaled sharply, holding her breath as he took another step. She exhaled when he stopped a few feet from her.
“A little,” she whispered. Her pupils were dilated, her mouth parted and she was nearly panting. He wanted so badly to lick those lips. He knew he should put some distance between them, but he couldn’t bring himself to take a step back.
Focus, Evans.
“We need to get on the road,” he said gently, trying not to frighten her.
“Who are you?” she asked again.
“Nathaniel Evans.”
; “That doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“I work for your uncle,” he said with a grin.
“Fuck,” she muttered, shifting nervously.
Oh yeah, Blondie. Fuck.
“And we need to get going. Trust me on this,” he said softly. He gave into the urge to touch her again, his hand stretching out, knuckles dragging down her arm. He closed his eyes at the tingling buzz he felt. “Shit, that’s weird.”
“I, uh, don’t know why it’s happening,” she whispered.
Nate’s eyes opened at the cold air under his hand. She’d taken a step back and was rubbing her arms.
“I should have some extra clothes in my car. I’m going to grab them. Why don’t you take a quick shower, and then we’ll get on the road?” he offered, trying to gain her trust.
“You could be lying,” she said suddenly.
“Sure, yeah. And you were lying to me,” he replied and then grabbed the keys from the dresser and disappeared to his car.
Aubrey closed her eyes and let the warm water splash her face. She could hear Nate moving in the bedroom, doing lord knew what. The last time she’d seen her uncle had been Thanksgiving over a year ago. Her younger sister, who had been seventeen at the time, had yelled at Aubrey telling her she wasn’t really family.
Uncle Walt had followed her onto the back porch and told her that what was in her blood didn’t matter, she had always been, and would always be, family. She’d almost told him then that she’d started having headaches, and hot flashes, and other symptoms the doctors couldn’t understand. She was terrified of what they couldn’t find.
She’d even resorted to the online witch forums hoping to find answers. What she’d found hadn’t been comforting. Rumors of other people with similar symptoms being swept up by a private medical company for a study. Or at least one or two crazies speculated that was what had happened to their loved ones.
Conspiracy theories made it onto witch forums, too, apparently. Aubrey toweled her hair until it wasn’t soaking wet and then slid on her bra and underwear. She hated dressing in dirty clothes. Her gaze landed on her wet sweater and she frowned. She was not putting that back on. Her jeans were a little damp too.
When she opened the bathroom door, Nate was standing there with a stack of clothes. He handed her a pair of men’s workout shorts with an elastic waist and a huge T-shirt. “Here. It’s the best option right now.”
He was dressed in a ratty pair of jeans and a plain white tee. He looked like he’d stepped out of a cologne ad. The buzzing in her body wasn’t helping the attraction she felt at the sight of him. She knew exactly what was under those clothes after last night. Hard chiseled man.
“Thanks,” she muttered, shutting the bathroom door again to get dressed. She wasn’t sure why she was feigning modesty when she’d stood half-naked in front of him just fifteen minutes before. But somehow having him fully clothed made her more self-conscious.
With their wet clothes in a plastic bag, they headed out of the cabin. Aubrey waited in the car while Nate went to drop the room key in the express checkout. She didn’t really want to walk into the reception area wearing his clothes. Not that she’d made a great impression the night before.
Nate returned, started the car, and without a word they were on their way. She watched the dense snow-dusted trees fly by as they headed, according to the car, northwest.
“Thank you, by the way. For last night,” he said when the silence had filled the car and Aubrey felt like the pressure of it would burst her eardrums.
“What do you mean?” she asked, eyes still cast out the passenger window.
“I mean, thank you for using your powers to heal me,” he said, and she knew his eyes were on her. She turned to look at him.
“I didn’t mean to heal you,” she admitted, and then realized how that sounded. “I mean, I didn’t mean to not heal you either. I just. . .” she groaned and leaned her head back against the leather car seat.
Last night was still a blur in her mind. She’d gone through motions without knowing what she was doing, and her head ached when she tried to remember specifics. It was as if she’d had way too much to drink. She felt hung over, despite not having a drop of alcohol the night before.
She remembered pressing her hand over the hole in his chest and feeling as though her body would burn itself up. And then she remembered pulling her clothes off, leaving them in the bathroom before collapsing into bed. Everything else was gone to the night.
“I’d like to say I understand, but I don’t. You’ll have to elaborate,” he said.
“I’m not supposed to have powers.”
“Supposed to?”
“Okay, poor word choice.” She sighed. He should know, shouldn’t he? If he knew her uncle, then he should know that she’s the weird one in the family. Her parents didn’t keep it a secret. “I didn’t used to have powers. Still don’t really. Just this buzzing and, apparently, that healing thing. It’s a little new.”
“How new?” He was asking her questions as though it were a perfectly normal conversation for them to be having.
“I’m still not convinced it was me who did that,” she said, pointing to his shoulder.
While true, she knew it had been her. Just like she’d known she could do it, even though she never had before. Something deep in her brain took over and she just did it as if it were an innate talent of some kind.
“Who else would have healed me?” He shot her a grin, and her stomach tightened. In the darkness of last night, he’d seemed so dark and dangerous. In the light of day, Nate Evans looked like your all-American college football star with his sturdy shoulders, one hell of a body, and sweet, classically good-looking face. She found herself grinning back at him because how could someone not when this ridiculously handsome man flashed that smile revealing a dimple in one cheek.
“You?” she asked. He’d returned his attention to the road, but Aubrey couldn’t look away from him.
“Nope. Not in my skill set.”
“You sure? I don’t have a skill set period.”
“Oh yeah? Got passed over in your family?”
“I’m adopted.” The words flew out of her mouth and she wanted to pull them back when his jaw tightened. The cab of the car filled with the thick hum that radiated between them, but no words.
And then he spoke. “So why were there dudes with guns after you?”
“I don’t know. I also don’t know where we’re going. Or why you were told to protect me. Or why you had a gun. Or, well, many things are still unclear to me.” She could guess at the gun. He was a detective, and that meant he could carry a gun.
“I told you I work for your uncle.”
“So you’re some sort of detective, then.” She leaned toward Nate, pretending to adjust the air vent. The buzzing intensified the closer she got to him. She sighed. What the hell was going on? Nervously, she settled back into the seat, her hands fidgeting in her lap.
“We can go with that.”
That wasn’t the answer she was expecting, but she decided not to pry. At least, not into her uncle’s line of work. She had a feeling “detective agency” wasn’t the correct title. He’d said private investigations and intelligence once and she’d made assumptions.
“So, where are we going?” she asked after another mile or two.
“To a safe house. It’s off the grid. And once we’re there, I can figure out what the hell is going on. I would have taken you back to headquarters, but Hobbs was weird on the phone. This is safer.”
She nodded as if she understood. Right, Hobbs was weird. Who is Hobbs?
3
Nate pulled the car into the garage of the safe house and killed the engine. Aubrey was forthcoming about everything other than what he wanted to know. And he really wanted to know why people were after her.
While he could have taken her to headquarters, he wasn’t sure what was going on with Hobbs. They weren’t partners. Gaius Aeden didn’t partner up the detectives except for s
pecial cases. But over the last two years, he’d grown to trust Hobbs like he’d trusted his partner when he was working for the Denver police department. She’d find a way to get a secure line and contact him again. So he stuck with what he knew. He was supposed to protect Aubrey. The best way to do that was to lie low.
He led her into the house, watching Aubrey’s gaze sweep over the interior with approval. It was a nice cabin in the woods by all outward appearances. Cozy. Maybe under the right circumstances, romantic. Time to shift gears from friendly conversation to getting answers.
“Do you want something to drink? There might be some food tucked in the cupboards too,” he offered, moving toward the kitchen.
“It’s nearly noon and we haven’t eaten today, so yes. Feed me,” she replied, happily following him. He dug through the cabinets, finding a couple of cans of soup. In the freezer, he found a pizza.
“Even better,” he muttered, pulling out the pizza and firing up the oven.
“Oh my God, that looks amazing,” she said, leaning across the counter to stare longingly at the photo of the supreme pizza. Nate smirked and headed for the pantry where he knew there were a few bottles of wine. It might be a little early in the day for a drink, but after the night they’d had, he figured they were allowed. Plus, he needed to loosen her up, get her talking.
“Vino?” he asked, holding one up for her to see.
“With a frozen pizza? Sold.” She grinned and moved around the island to look for glasses. He poured them each a glass, hers a little fuller than his, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Thirty minutes later they stood on opposite sides of the kitchen island with the pizza between them. Nate refilled Aubrey’s glass again. He’d been keeping it a consistent level. Over half the bottle was gone and his glass was still half-full. He had this in the bag. She’d tell him whatever he wanted. He just had to ask. And maybe flirt. This was not the way he’d normally approach an interrogation, but nothing about this assignment had been normal so far.
He leaned over and shoved her hair out of her face, letting his fingers linger on her cheek. He felt a little guilty when she blushed.
