by Cate Dean
He lifted the police tape. Bran ducked under, and followed him deeper into the alley. The kid was neatly laid out, against the bloodstained brick wall, on his back. Like the teenagers last week, his chest had been clawed open. But this kid was younger—closer to preteen than teen.
Bran swallowed the sour taste in the back of his throat, and crouched down for a closer look. No demon had done this—they liked to possess kids, not kill them. He leaned down, closed his eyes, and braced himself before he took a breath.
The scent nearly knocked him backward.
Strong hands caught his shoulders, kept him from sprawling on the bloody tarmac. “Okay, Bran?”
“Yeah.” He accepted Nick’s help to stand, not too proud to take it. Right now, he was too shaky for pride. He walked to the other end of the alley, staring out at the narrow slice of beach. “Your killer isn’t a demon, Nick. It’s much worse.” Bran never thought he’d see one again in this world—not after the God-cursed Fae Queen banished her personal pet. “They were killed by a Fear Doirche.”
“What the hell is a Fear—Dorsha?” Nick stumbled over the last part.
“It is—”
A voice Bran hoped to never hear again interrupted him. “Something you never want to meet in a dark alley, Detective.”
He turned to Maeve in time to see her smile at him. Bran would have snarled at her, but the woman standing behind her lodged his voice in his throat.
She was dressed simply, in jeans, a white, cropped t-shirt that bared her flat, toned stomach, hugging curves he wanted to get to know better, and a black leather jacket.
God help him, she was beautiful—not in that drop dead, Fae perfection beautiful, but a natural beauty, not enhanced by anything but the dark brown hair that fell to her waist. Bran knew what she was the second he spotted the blonde streak.
“Where did you find a Seer, Maeve?”
“Hiding in plain sight, Bran.”
The woman looked up—and when her eyes widened, he knew she had seen the demon. He braced himself for revulsion.
Instead, she shocked the hell out of him by moving forward and laying her hand on his cheek.
Contact sent a shock wave of heat through him. Bran didn’t need a Seer to tell him that his attraction to this woman went much deeper than visual.
Her quiet voice jerked him back to the moment.
“You’re not a demon, but you are. Only one parent?”
He nodded, and did his best not to lose himself in the dark blue depths of her eyes.
Maeve snorted, breaking the connection. “You can explore each other’s souls later. Right now, I need her to tell us who murdered these—”
“No need.” Bran crossed his arms and moved between her and the dead kid. “It was a Fear Doirche.”
Maeve grabbed the woman’s arm and hauled her forward. “I need you to look at the child, Reese. Tell me what you see.”
“Hell, no.” He blocked Reese’s view of the kid, and glared at Maeve. “She doesn’t need to see the victim, and you know it.”
Reese raised her eyebrows as she looked at Maeve. “Another lie, Maeve?”
I think I’m in love. This gorgeous woman had as much respect for the Fae as he did. Which was none.
Maeve tried to rally, but it was obviously too late. “Reese—”
“Shut up.” Reese turned to Bran. He finally noticed the narrow gold ring around the iris in her left eye. The sight of it shocked him enough that he barely heard what she said next. She was a born Seer—so rare, that the Fae would do anything to keep her now that they found her. “—need to see?”
“Sorry—can you repeat that?”
A smile tugged at her soft, full lips. He found himself staring at them now, and forced his attention back to what she was saying. He’d be damned if he made her repeat it again, and look like a love-struck fool.
She took pity on him and asked her question again. “Exactly how much do I need to see?”
“Nothing,” he said, before Maeve could contradict him. “You just need to be here, close to what happened.” He took her hand, that heat roaring through him again. Damn, was he hooked. She looked just as surprised, staring at his hand, then at him. Bran put their attraction aside for later, when they weren’t standing in the middle of a grisly crime scene. “All you have to do is touch the wall, and close your eyes.”
Maeve opened her mouth, probably to spout another lie. The demon flared in his eyes, reminding her just who he was, and she backed off.
Reese watch the exchange, amusement in her dark blue eyes. “Any wall in particular?”
Bran took her hand, already braced for the shock. Bracing didn’t help—he still wanted to drag her to the nearest dark corner and kiss her until they couldn’t see straight.
He let the demon side step forward. The demon had no interest in human emotions, and that made it easier to stand next to her. With his lust under control, he led her to the wall where the kid was lined up.
“This is close enough to—do whatever you do.”
She smiled up at him. “This is my first time. Looks like I’m winging it.” Before he could get over his surprise at her comment, she laid her free hand on the wall.
Three
Images exploded in my mind. Images I knew I would never be able to forget, no matter how much I drank. Not that I drink—alcohol seriously screws me up. I think I know why now.
Horror lodged in my throat as I watched what looked like an eight-foot man herd the terrified kid into the alley. I felt my knees buckle, and I couldn’t stop myself from falling as I watched the man gut the kid with cold precision. Strong hands caught me, and the arm that slipped around my waist made me feel safe.
The ugly scene wouldn’t let me go until it finished playing out. When it did, I opened my eyes—and looked into the grey eyes of the man who was also a demon.
“Thank you,” I whispered. My throat was so dry, I could barely hear my own voice.
But he did. He smiled, then lifted me up like I weighed nothing, and carried me past the dead kid, past the crime scene investigators, and straight down to the stone steps leading to the beach. He didn’t stop until we reached the sand.
“Are you okay to stand?” His deep vice warmed me.
“I think so.”
He lowered me to the sand, keeping one arm around my waist. It felt right, in a way I’ve never felt with any man. In one day, I discover I’m not human, and I’m falling for a man who isn’t a man.
His grey eyes studied me, concern almost hiding the same startling attraction. “I’m going to move back now, so I don’t give into my need to kiss you breathless.” He smiled, and I liked him even more for his honesty. “Will you be okay on your own?”
“What if I want you to kiss me breathless?” I can’t believe that came out of my mouth.
Judging by the surprise on his face, he couldn’t believe it either. But he recovered quickly, pulling me in until I could feel his breath on my cheek. This close, I noticed the silver outlining his eyes. The part of me Mom had spent years suppressing knew that was the demon part of him. I didn’t care—he was the kindest, most human man I’d met in a long time.
Those unusual eyes studied me for an endless second, and then he kissed me.
I always thought fireworks and rubber knees were the stuff of romance novels—until now. Hell, I didn’t even know his name. But his kiss, and his hands, which had somehow found bare skin, set off fireworks behind my eyes, and turned my knees to rubber.
I held on, wanting more. He gave it, as hungry as I was for the connection between us.
When he finally eased back, my hands were twisted into the front of his t-shirt to keep from falling over.
“Wow,” he said. I laughed, but I felt exactly the same way. The smile on his face widened, and I wanted to kiss him again. “Where did you come from, Reese?”
“I’ll tell you, if you tell me your name.”
He slapped his forehead. “Sorry about that. You just—knocked me of
f my feet. Bran Malcolm.”
“Reese Pierpoint. Owner of The Dragon’s Breath.”
He raised one eyebrow. “The jewelry store on Forest?”
The fact that he knew it meant he lived in Santa Luna. “The very one.”
“I wish I’d followed my instincts and walked inside.” He smiled down at me, the breeze that blew off the ocean ruffling his black hair. Every time I looked at him, I could see the demon, lurking behind his human face. For some reason, knowing that didn’t bother me. “I know this is a lousy time to ask, but will you have dinner with me?”
“Tonight works for me.”
He laughed, then pulled me in until his lips brushed mine. “It’s a date.”
When he kissed me this time, I let the unfamiliar feelings flow through me. Because I left myself so open, the image took me by surprise.
It was Bran—and he was dead, blood spattered across his white face.
I jerked back, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.
“Reese—what did you see?”
“You,” I whispered. I couldn’t say anymore. I was afraid if I did, that would make it real. Make it happen.
“Not all of what you see is set in stone, Reese.” He cradled my cheek. I felt the slight tremble in his fingers before he managed to control it. “You don’t have to tell me what you saw, unless you want to. I know it had to do with me—I could feel it. That doesn’t mean it will happen.”
“How do you know?”
He kissed me, his lips warm, soft, and achingly tender. “My mother was a Seer. She got her ability to See after an accident, when she died for five minutes.”
That explained oh so much. “How much danger am I in, Bran?”
“More than Maeve would ever tell you. But if you let me, Reese, I’ll protect you. With my life.”
I wanted that, but I didn’t. I’d been on my own too long to let someone else infiltrate my life so completely. Even a man I was wildly attracted to.
“Let’s start with dinner.”
~ ~ ~
I don’t know how I got through the rest of the day.
I did manage to get rid of Maeve, who wanted to hover like an annoying insect. I told her she wasn’t welcome in my store, ever, and she flounced away, obviously pissed.
I wasn’t all that sure about having a Fae pissed at me.
“Too late now,” I muttered.
Thankfully, Mom had gone home, so I didn’t have to deal with her. And a new customer walked in not long after, distracting me from Maeve. And Bran.
How I ever missed meeting Bran Malcolm is a mystery I probably won’t ever solve. Now that I had, I couldn’t get him out of my mind.
Even while waiting on customers, he was there, his silver-edged grey eyes and charming smile at the back of my mind. The only time he faded was when I finally turned my attention to the pendant that started all of this.
I closed up early, so I could work on it uninterrupted. And to be sure that no customer would walk in on me if or when the pendant messed with my new powers.
This time, I wore my gloves—two pairs, just to give myself a thick barrier. Then I pulled out my silver cleaner, several soft cloths, and got to work.
Two hours later, I polished the surface one last time, and stepped back, staring at the now clean pendant.
I’d seen it before. In my dreams.
The pendant had markings around the edge of the center stone, spiraling inward. I shouldn’t have been able to read them, because I’d never seen the language before today. But the words jumped out at me, like they had been burned into my brain.
The Seer does not always understand what is Seen. But what is Seen will always be the truth.
“Bran,” I whispered.
I’d seen him dead.
I grabbed the pendant and ran through the back room of the store, locking the alley door after me.
I was so focused on getting to Bran I never heard the owner of the hand that clapped over my mouth.
Four
Bran spent the rest of the day organizing files that had been sitting on his desk for months.
He needed the distraction, to keep from thinking about Reese every other second.
It didn’t help—and he didn’t expect it to. But he got his office in order, so he accomplished half of his goal. The last task on his list for today—report to his latest client. He had promised that he would make his final report in person, so he locked up and headed to his black convertible.
He stopped at his house on the way, needing the small piece of crystal he usually carried in his pocket. Emotions would run high during this meeting, and he would need the barrier his crystal offered.
He parked at the end of the long driveway that snaked up the hill, isolating him just enough for privacy, and ran inside. The crystal sat on his nightstand, just where he’d set it last night. He picked it up, letting the smooth oval warm in his hand.
The rainbow trapped in the middle of the crystal brightened, making him smile. He had discovered this crystal at a market in Ireland, decades ago. It had called to him, and he had followed that call until he found it, nestled in a bowl of rocks. Waiting for him.
Since that day, it had rarely left his pocket, traveling with him, its protection growing stronger with every year. Now, he felt its absence when he accidentally left it behind.
“Stop stalling, Malcolm,” he muttered. “Time to give her the news.”
He walked back out to his car, and headed down the hill.
His client lived in the high-end neighborhood just outside Santa Luna, where every mansion had a view of the ocean—either from their cliff location, or for a premium, right on the beach. She lived right on the beach, at the bottom of a long, gated street.
After he was approved by the guard, he drove to the end of the street and parked, taking a minute. He had stopped accepting cases like hers a while ago, but she was the sister of a friend, so he made an exception.
Mary Strong opened the door and let him in. “Thank you for coming all this way, Bran. I appreciate it. Please, come and sit.”
He followed her to the living room, where a solid wall of glass looked over the property’s private beach. The small yard had a swing set, a playhouse, and a sandbox. All of them unused for the last two years.
Bran had been hired to find Mary’s daughter, Lisa, who had been walking home from the bus that dropped her off at the top of the street, one cool spring afternoon. She had never made it home.
He probably got farther than the last investigator she had hired. But he had nothing new to offer other than the fact that he knew it was a human who had taken her. As the sister of his oldest friend here, Mary knew about him, and had hoped that his abilities might help bring her closer to finding out what happened to Lisa.
“I know you learned something, Bran. Jon told me you sent him a copy of the report.”
“She was taken by a man, Mary. Not a Fae, not a supernatural. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet. “I wish I had more. I can keep working on it, if you like.”
The silent tears that slid down her face devastated him. “Let me think about it. Thank you, Bran, for all that you’ve done.” She stood. “I’ll show you out. I know it’s long past your normal business hours.”
“For you, Mary, there are no business hours.”
She hugged him, rubbing his back. “You are a good man, Bran Malcolm.” After a long minute, when he knew she was composing herself, she stepped back. “I’ll call you next week, give you my decision about continuing.”
“I’ll wait to hear from you. And if you need to call, just to talk, don’t hesitate.”
“Thank you.”
He waited until after she closed the door, then the first thing he did was call Reese’s store. He needed to hear her voice.
The phone kept ringing—and the longer it rang, the faster Bran moved, until he was sprinting to his car.
He hopped over the driver’s door and landed in the seat, dropping his cell i
n the passenger seat. He was going to keep trying until he heard Reese’s voice. That was the only thing that would keep him from driving like Hell was after him.
Bran reached Santa Luna in record time and screeched to a halt in one of the slanted parking spots in front of Reese’s store. He knew before he jumped out that the store was empty. His demon sensed nothing in the store—no presence, no familiar heartbeat. Nothing.
He kept moving, to the narrow side street that led to the back of the store. It was there that he finally felt the presence, and his heart started pounding.
Reese had been taken. And he had no idea where to start looking for her.
Five
I opened my eyes—and I wanted to punch something when I met Mom’s blue gaze.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
Her eyes narrowed, but I had definitely caught her off guard. “Keeping you safe, Reese.”
“Safe from what?” I already knew, but I wanted her to admit it. I wanted her to say the words out loud.
“From the people who would use you, use your power for their own ends.”
I sat up, already knowing that I was in my old room. I recognized the starburst on the ceiling over my bed. “Grabbing me outside my own store was not the way to do it, Mom.”
“I was afraid—” She cut herself off, and stood, turning away from me. “I’m so afraid for you, Reese. I’m having a hard time thinking straight right now.”
“All you had to do was say something. You think I’m not scared? I’ve known less than a day—you’ve known all your life.”
“Which is why I acted like I did. I know what lengths they will go to, and who they will sacrifice, to gain control of your powers.”
I stared at her. “What are you telling me?”
Mom let out a sigh, and turned to face me. “Seers born with the ability cannot only see what has happened, they can see what will happen.”
I swallowed. “I’ve already seen that.”
Mom grabbed my arms, her fingers digging in so hard I knew there’d be bruises later. “When? What did you see? Why didn’t you tell me?”
