Something tugged at the door inside her soul.
She straightened, searching the people around her. It was just a tug. The demon the door was calling to wasn’t close. At least, not close enough for the door to drag it into her.
She could hope it stayed away from her, or she could get out of there.
It could be her killer, though.
Didn’t matter. She couldn’t do anything with the damned door inside her.
“Let’s forget about what I just saw for a second.”
He’d been looking away when she took the card. Hadn’t he? How had he seen? And why would he be okay with forgetting it? Normally, when a person took something from a crime scene, it was to cover something up. Now, granted, that was what she was doing—covering up her involvement with demons who were trying to get her tied to a murder case—but he didn’t know that.
“You’ve been different since you came back from Louisiana.” He handed her a lighter. “What happened out there?”
“Nothing.” She flipped the Bic, but her flame sputtered out.
“Bullshit.” He cupped the flame for her. “You came back different.”
The door inside her tugged again.
She needed to leave. If this was Sven, he wouldn’t be so stupid as to get so close.
Except that he was one of the demons strong enough to resist the power of the door.
Her cigarette flared to life. Paige needed a way to end the conversation. Quickly. The smoke filled her lungs painfully. It tasted like ass, too, but the first flush of the nicotine eased the tension in her head.
“What’s that?”
Paige looked up at her partner, almost choking on her smoke. “What’s what?”
“That.” He pointed to Paige’s chest.
Fear slammed in her throat. She clasped the button tighter, cursing her boobs in a button-up shirt. “Why are you staring at my boobs?”
“I’m not staring at your boobs.” His voice was so calm. Dangerously calm. “What is that?”
There was something definitely off about her partner. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit, nothing.” He pushed at Paige’s hand, his nose inches from her chest.
She shoved his face away. “Hey, boundaries, man.”
He took a few steps back, all the playfulness of her old partner erased. Something primal replaced it, something old and powerful. “That’s a symbol.”
Paige raised her chin, her cigarette forgotten. Was he what the door was calling to? Seemed unlikely, but anyone could be possessed. But if it was him, then why would he be asking so many questions? Why wouldn’t he just know? And how could he be standing this close? There weren’t that many old and powerful demons running topside.
“That’s a scab of an occult symbol on your chest.”
No. That was the physical representation of the demon door her soul housed. “Drop it.”
His gaze lifted to meet hers. “The killer caught you.”
Paige ground her teeth together.
He rubbed the corners of his widening mouth. “This is bad, Paige. Are you harmed?”
She tried to reconcile the face of her smart-assed, good-natured partner with the solemn, serious, and predatory man standing before her.
He leaned in. “Are you harmed?” His voice rolled over her, dark and mesmerizing.
No. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Are you compromised?”
No. She ground her teeth but forced out, “Yes.” Her heart raced.
Something flashed, like a ball of light in the back of his dark eyes.
She staggered as whatever had been controlling her disappeared.
Controlling her?
He took a step back and blinked. “Go home, Paige. I’ll finish up here.” He turned to walk away.
Her body shook. She had never met a demon who could do what her partner just did. “Tony?”
He turned back to her, his lips set, his expression tired and pissed. “Yeah.”
She paused, gathering the courage to ask the question that could blow her cover. “What are you?”
He bit the inside of his lip. “What are you?”
Crushing her half-finished cigarette, she shoved her tongue in her cheek. How was she supposed to answer that? It seemed like he was something that could exist in her orbit. But if that was the case, why couldn’t she peg him, define him?
He nodded, looking away. “Go home. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yeah.”
Questions trailed her feet as she scurried back to her car, the tug on the door within her soul decreasing as she moved. Her partner, whom she’d known for five years, was a part of the supernatural community? He didn’t feel like a “psychic.” He was solid.
Predatory and old.
Demon?
He hadn’t possessed her, so, no.
Then what?
She’d go home and ask her demon hunter. Maybe he’d have an answer.
Paige walked through the back door of her apartment. Whoever heard of an apartment with a front door and a back door? She stepped through the dining room with the lone, high table and dropped her jacket and bag in the overstuffed, white chair of the large living room. She heard Dexx puttering around in the spare room.
The spare room.
When she’d moved up from Texas, she’d rented a two-bedroom apartment. She hadn’t even known why. She barely used the second bedroom. For the first year, she’d kept the door closed and refused to go in.
Now, she understood why. In Louisiana, the blocks on her memories had been removed along with the wards around her gift.
Not only did she have power, she had a daughter. Leah.
Paige’s gift had manifested in elementary school. Her mother, Rachel, had abandoned her and her sister, saying they were evil. She took their younger brother, though, and left for New York. She didn’t call, didn’t write, didn’t send birthday cards.
Their grandmother had raised them. Alma was a kitchen witch, and a powerful one. She’d taught them as much as she could, but even she balked at the idea of Paige’s abilities.
When Rachel had shown up just after Leah’s fifth birthday, she’d caught the Whiskey women by surprise.
When Rachel served Paige with custody papers, they’d been aghast.
When the police and social services showed up to remove Leah from the Whiskey home, they’d been terrified.
When the judge awarded custody to Rachel without grounds or solid justification, they’d been astounded.
But when Rachel disappeared with Leah, Paige had been enraged.
She’d summoned a demon to murder her mother and retrieve her daughter.
Alma found out, blocked all memories of Leah, and warded her gift so Paige could do no further damage to the world.
That was five years ago.
So, when Paige had leased this apartment, she’d had no reason for the second bedroom. She couldn’t remember having a daughter.
Until last week.
Last week, all the memories flooded back, along with her abilities. All the love. All the pain. All the anguish.
All the rage.
That damned second bedroom door. Her heart’s way of telling her something was wrong, she was missing something.
Her daughter.
Burning hatred aside, she couldn’t be too upset. Her daughter was safe. That was a hell of a lot more than Paige could offer at the moment.
Which only pissed her off more.
Dexx stepped through the spare bedroom door, towel-drying his short, dark hair. He wore a pair of jeans and nothing else. “Oh, hey, Pea. You’re home early.”
There had to be something wrong with her. The man was amazing to look at. His chiseled chest. A real chiseled chest with dark hair. Tight arms and shoulders. The man took care of himself.
But her body gave no response. Not even a tingle. Not a tickle.
She was off balance. The drive home from the crime scene hadn’t eased her worry, and then to be reminded of
Leah by that damned door? Fuck. She needed to get her life under control. “What’d you do today?”
He belched, patted his chest, and ducked into the bathroom beside her. “Worked on Jackie. She needed a tune-up.”
Jackie was his car. A 1970 Dodge Challenger, to be exact. She was a beauty and a beast. Paige loved her. “Hmm.”
“She runs like a kitten.”
Paige leaned against the doorjamb of the tiny bathroom. It was barely big enough for a tub, a toilet, and a small sink. She had to straddle the toilet to close the door. Which was why Dexx used it with the door open. Even in those moments when the door should have been shut. As in…shut to keep the whale songs in.
She met his brilliant green gaze in the mirror. “Something strange happened today.”
He slapped some smelly liquid on his face. Men. So delicate and pretty. “You went to work.”
“I see your sarcasm font. No.”
“You went to a crime scene where someone was killed.” He put a finger to his chin and tossed his head about, giving dark statement a comedic tone.
Paige folded her arms over her chest. “It amazes me how you think you’re funny.”
He turned, propping himself on the sink’s edge.
Something tingled in her lower regions as she took in his hairy bare chest, his loose-fitting jeans riding low on his hips.
Finally. But just a tingle? Really? Was she dead inside?
“Oh, but I am.” He fanned his fingers to his lips, raising an eyebrow. “I am.”
“Oh, but you’re not.” But he was taking the edge off her nerves. “A woman was murdered. I did go to a crime scene. She was killed by a demon.”
Seriousness slammed over his chiseled face, his brilliant green eyes narrowed. “Here. Coincidence?” He shook his head in answer to his own question.
“Yeah, no.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “He left a four-tiered candelabra as a mark on her arm. You wouldn’t happen to know who that is, would you?”
“Sounds familiar.” Confusion furrowed his brow. “Don’t remember, though, and my books are in a storage unit in New York.”
“Helpful.” She pulled the card the demon had left behind out of her back pocket. “And he left me this.”
“Left you?” He took the card. “Shit.”
She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to read it.
You’ll thank me later, love. Kiss that devilish partner of yours. You’ll thank me for that, too.
Dexx didn’t move. “Sven.”
“That was my first guess.” But it didn’t add up.
“Was he the one who killed that woman?”
“No.” Paige held up her hands as if in surrender. “No. This is someone else. This one left a demon mark, but he somehow knew I use hand prints to view the scene afterward. That’s how I knew about the message. So, he’s working with Sven? That’s a scary idea.”
Dexx looked up, flailing his hand with the card. “Why would you thank him? For killing a woman? For giving you something to do?”
“I don’t know.” Paige massaged her forehead with all eight fingertips.
“What magick was at the scene?”
“A handprint.”
“You said that before. I don’t understand.”
“Oh, sometimes demons will leave behind a handprint, emotional discharge from an event. It’s literally in the shape of a hand. I can see it through my witch vision.”
“Witch vision?”
“Um, yeah. You know, like, the inner eye?”
“That’s really a thing?”
“Yeah. Anyway, I touch it and then I can see the scene as far forward as the moment they left the handprint and as far back as there’s energy in the discharge. I can reverse it, speed it up.”
“So, it’s like a DVR.”
“Kind of. When the energy dissipates, the imprint is gone.”
“So the demon was feeding?”
“Possibly. Though—” The way he’d looked right at her, knowing she was going to watch. “I don’t know. This seemed deliberate, like a message inside a message.”
“The note would make a little more sense then. She’s a clue you’re supposed to follow.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, thank you for killing someone, Sven. Good on ya.” Dexx focused his green gaze on her. “You used your gift. You okay?”
“Yeah. The demon was close, but not close enough.” She needed to tell someone what had happened with Tony, and Dexx was the best one for it. But what happened if, after she said it out loud, it just made her look really stupid? “Something else happened, too.”
“There’s more? Today was your first official day back.” He leaned forward. “Okay. Now, I’m worried.”
So was she. “First of all, in the memory playback, the woman’s nails grew into what almost looked like claws and her eyes seemed to kind of glow.”
He paused for a confused second. “Demon?”
“I don’t know.” Cocking her jaw to the side, she struggled to phrase what she wanted to say next.
“Was that it?” He craned his head forward. “Or do you need a drum roll?”
“Shut up.” She gestured with her fingers. “Tony acted weird.”
Dexx narrowed his eyes, waiting.
“Like…I don’t know. Like he was part of the supernatural world? But not a demon?”
He pursed his lips, widened them, then re-pursed them. “Like, um…” He shook his head.
“My first thought was…vampire.” With the word out of her mouth, she felt like a moron. Vampires? Really?
His gaze roved the small space of the bathroom. “Um, Pea, there are no such things as vampires.”
“Okay. Well, I had to check with you. You know, hunter and all. I thought maybe you might have run into something like this? Werewolves? Vampires?”
“As far as I know, they only exist in bad teen angst books.”
“I read those, thank you very much.” Paige rolled out of the doorway and into the wide, open living room. “And I watch the movies and the TV shows.”
“Oh, your guilty pleasures. Tell me you just want them for the naked men.”
She pursed her lips out and nodded. “Definitely the for the naked men.” She plopped into the white and ragged overstuffed chair.
He gave her a come-hither look and gestured to himself. “And what about this naked man?”
She chuckled. “This half naked man.”
“I could be all the way naked.”
There really was part of her that wanted that.
But the rest of her was just so tied up in the chaos she called a life. She couldn’t unwind enough to relax to fully enjoy the moment.
“Meh.” He waved her off. “I wasn’t going to let you have me anyway.”
As if.
Dexx perched on the arm of one of the chairs, folding his hands between his knees. “There’s something else going on here. Ever since we made it back to your apartment, you’ve, I don’t know, closed off.”
Oh, blessed Mother. Yeah. That.
Used to be, when she got in over her head, she’d ask for help. She’d had Leslie, Grandma Alma, Leslie’s husband, Tru.
But for the past five years, she’d had herself. Dexx had only been there occasionally.
Opening up wasn’t something she was good at anymore.
He tipped his head toward her expectantly.
She let her eyes settle on that damned second bedroom door.
His expression was blank for a moment, then it widened with understanding. “Leah. Okay. You know what? Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Slapping her palms against the arms of the chair, she looked up at him. She was ready to unwind, to do something fun, to get away from the crazy fucking cases she’d been given. Those five years of having her gifts and memories banished had been blissful. Mundane. And she hadn’t even realized the blessing that had been bestowed upon her ignorant mind.
Blessing. Anger boiled inside her. That blessing
had been forced upon her.
He pulled her to her feet and grabbed her shoulders. “I’m gonna go put on somethin’ perty.”
She laughed quietly. “Prettier’n what you’re already wearin’?”
“Yup. And you’re gonna change into somethin’ that hasn’t visited a crime scene today. Also, you smell like an ashtray. Tell me you didn’t start up again.”
“I didn’t, but I did have a half.”
He pulled a yuk face and shivered dramatically. “Turn off. Anyway, then, you’re taking me to dinner.”
She frowned up at him with a slight smile. “Somehow, I feel that’s all backwards.”
He grinned. “I promote equal rights, and right now, you earn more than I do.”
“You don’t earn anything.”
“Exactly.” He sashayed toward the bedroom. “Green shirt?” He looked at her over his shoulder and batted his eyes, one hand on his hip. “Bring out my eyes?”
That man.
She removed her work clothes, hanging her belt holster with her Glock 22 by the bed. Instead, she slipped on her shoulder harness and her Micro Desert Eagle. A smaller gun, but it shot straight and was easier to conceal on her slighter frame.
She spent some time brushing out her long, brown hair. It had been up in a ponytail all day, so it had a weird wave to it. There wasn’t a lot she could do with it. Well, she could braid it. She’d seen a YouTube video of this person who could do all kinds of big, beautiful buns, but she could never get those to work.
A little mascara and she was done.
Dexx took forever. All he had to do was put on a shirt, some socks, his shoes. Half an hour later, he grinned at her, grabbed his jacket and was finally ready to go.
Jackie rumbled and purred around them as he drove through the still mildly congested Denver traffic. How there could still be so many people on the streets was beyond Paige. At least most of the other drivers seemed to give Jackie the wide berth of respect she deserved.
An F150 decided he had more balls. At the light at University and Hampden, he revved his rumbling engine, smiling good-naturedly at Dexx.
Who, of course, revved Jackie’s engine. She growled like a promise of death.
Yeah. The light turned green and Jackie was halfway down the brick wall of the residential neighborhood before the big truck had cleared the intersection.
whiskey witches 02 - blood moon magick Page 2
