Nate arrived first and nursed a Coke at the bar. Although his back was to the door, he was aware of her presence the second she opened it. How was that even possible?
She took the stool next to him, resting her hands on the bar. “What’s so important?”
On an impulse, he placed his hand over hers and braced himself. Nothing. Well. Far from nothing. In fact, his entire body sizzled with need. But he had no visions. He hadn’t had any at the hit-and-run earlier, either. Maybe the visions had been a one-time thing. Or a brain tumor.
“Sorry.” He pulled his hand away. Thankfully she didn’t seem offended, but confusion lined her brow. He got up and pointed toward a corner table. “Let’s talk somewhere more private.”
He followed her; grateful she didn’t mention his inappropriate physical contact.
Once she was seated, her gaze locked on his, her full lips struggling to hold back a smile. “I hope I didn’t come down here to hold hands.”
He raked his fingers through his short hair. “Sorry about that.” He leaned in closer. “Solving crimes is like following a spider web. Everything is connected in some way, it’s just figuring out where things intersect so I can find the spider in the middle.”
“And did you find it?”
He shrugged. “Is there a reason you didn’t mention the Muses were daughters of Zeus?”
Her smile faded. She rested her forearms on the table, leaning closer to him. “You were asking about Kronos, not Zeus.”
“Your theater is for the nine Muses, Zeus’s daughters. If I were a crackpot on Team Kronos, I’d hit Zeus where it hurts—his beautiful girls.” He moved even closer to her, pulled in by some unseen magnetic force, an unquenchable thirst to be near her parching him.
“You might be on to something, Detective Malone.” Her breath warmed his lips as she spoke.
“Nate,” he whispered. “Call me Nate.”
“Nate…” she whispered as she closed the distance between them. Her lips brushed his.
Fireworks erupted behind his eyelids, landscapes rolling through his consciousness in a constant stream he couldn’t comprehend. Greece, Rome, Paris, Crystal City. He pulled back, struggling to clear his head.
“Did you see that?” he asked.
She frowned. “See what?”
Maybe he needed to get more than his birthmark checked out. He ran a hand down his face. “Sorry. When I’m around you…”
“Please don’t apologize, you’ll hurt my pride.” She almost smiled. “And I kissed you. Just so you know.”
He was usually smooth when it came to women, but Mel wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met. She threw off his equilibrium, and the crazy visions weren’t helping. He shook his head. “I wasn’t apologizing for the kiss.” He chuckled. “In fact, I’d be willing to try that again sometime.”
“Good.” She settled back. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention the muses had a tie to Zeus.”
He swallowed and met her gaze head-on. As much as he was feeling for her, he needed to focus, even if it meant confronting her. “Are you keeping anything else from me that could help with this case, Mel?”
Was she? Mel struggled to string her thoughts together. She shouldn’t have kissed him, but besides being the hottest detective she’d ever seen, he was also the only person who believed her and was trying to figure out what really happened to Nia. Knowing someone was going on a limb to help her was a heady sensation as it was, and add in that he smelled like an untamed forest, and her resistance ran really low.
And now that she’d gotten a taste of his lips on hers, she was hard-pressed to focus. “I think I’ve told you all I can.” She tried to keep her voice from trembling, from giving away the truth of who she was, who Nia was.
He pulled out the printout of the masks again. “If there is some kind of cult that worships Kronos, it’s not a big leap to think that if they found out you all were restoring a theater for the muses, they’d see hurting you as a way to punish the guy who defeated their leader. People have killed for less.”
Could he be right? “But we don’t advertise who we are, and our company is an LLC. We don’t have our names anywhere on the project. How could they have made that connection?”
“Maybe they saw you coming and going from the theater? That’s the part I’m missing.” He reached across the small table to take her hand. “But if I’m right, you or one of your sisters could be the next target.” He squeezed. “You need to be careful.”
She nodded, struggling to convince herself he was wrong. They were muses. They weren’t hurting anyone. Why would anyone want them dead?
No. There had to be another explanation. Clio, their resident Muse of History, studied every mention of the muses in any ancient text she could get her hands on. If there were Kronos supporters out there, wouldn’t they know?
She shielded her fear with bravado. “I’ll keep my eye out for a guy in a gold mask.”
He groaned. “This isn’t a joke. I don’t want to get a call that something’s happened to you.”
She sobered, glancing down at their joined hands. “Why do you care?”
He caught her chin with his other hand. His gaze demanding she look at him. “Because I lost someone I should’ve been protecting. I’ll never let that happen again.”
She searched his eyes and saw raw concern, worry, and regret. Her chest constricted, the memory of Nia’s empty stare crawling out of the shadows of her mind. This was real. She needed to circle the wagons. If they put their heads together, she and her sisters would come up with a plan. They had to.
She slid her hand free of his. “I appreciate your concern.” She pushed her chair back. “I think I’d better get back to Callie’s.” She stood, and a scar on his right bicep peeked out from under the sleeve of his T-shirt.
Until now, she hadn’t even noticed that he was out of his detective suit. A gentle smile tugged at her lips. “You should wear short sleeves more often.”
Before he could respond, she hustled out of the bar. Something was going on. Something big, like the dreams that brought her sisters together. But this time, it wasn’t a theater bringing them together. It was a killer tearing them apart.
Chapter Five
Mel groaned. “I kissed him.”
Callie pulled out the chair next to her at the long dining room table. “The detective? Seriously? We made a pact.”
“I know, I know. But there’s something about him.”
Callie sighed. “We’ll never get this theater open if we’re all off chasing men. This is important. Like, for all mankind and the future of the world important.”
Mel put her hands up. “I get it, Miss Epic Poetry.” She shook her head. “He’s the only one who believes that Nia’s fall wasn’t an accident.”
“He seems like a good guy, but we need to focus on finding Nia’s killer, and then finish the theater. We don’t have time for distractions. No men.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Mel rolled her eyes. “Inspiration before intercourse.”
Callie chuckled. “I should put that on a T-shirt.”
“He’s smart, too.” Her voice wavered, fear creeping back into her consciousness. “He thinks he found a link.” Releasing a breath, she forced the words out. “We may all be targets.”
But before Mel could finish telling Callie about her meeting with Nate, Clio burst in, books and scrolls in her arms. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think I stumbled onto something interesting.”
Mel tensed, already imagining that the Muse of History discovered some ancient prophecy of their demise. She took a deep breath rolling her eyes at herself. Glass half-full, remember?
Clio pulled out a chair at the table and sat down, carefully placing her ancient documents on the tabletop. “I was actually looking for some record of previous muses being murdered, and while I didn’t find that, I did find this…” She unrolled a scroll, pointing to a few faded lines.
Callie propped her head up on her elbow. “It’s all in Greek.”
Clio nodded, then sighed. “Sorry. I forgot you can’t read it.” She tossed her braid over her shoulder and leaned in closer to the text. “Every generation, the nine daughters of Zeus are reborn, and with their rebirth are also nine Guardians. They will be marked by the gods, and given gifts to protect his treasure. Their abilities will only be unlocked when they find their muse.” She tipped her head up, looking from Mel to Callie. “We have Guardians.”
Mel crossed her arms. “Where was Nia’s?”
Clio sighed, rolling the scroll up again. “It doesn’t say how they find us, just that when they do, their “abilities” will be unlocked.”
“A lot of good that does us if we can’t find them.” Mel leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling.
“According to the scroll, they’re supposed to find us.” Clio took her glasses off. “But if the gods thought we needed Guardians, it’s possible there has been trouble in the past, too.”
Callie got up and took a cup out of the cupboard. “Do you think they have dreams like we all did?”
Clio shrugged. “It didn’t say. I’ll keep looking. Maybe I can find another reference.”
Mel rubbed her forehead. “Better find it quick. Nate thinks there might be a Kronos worshipper out there and he might know who we are.”
“What?” Callie came back to the table. “Why would he make a connection like that? How is that possible?”
“He was researching the mask and the myths about the Titans.” Mel shrugged, hoping she looked flippant like some of the teens in her classes instead of a guilty five-year-old. “He also offered to check into the delay in our permits, and I might have told him the name of our LLC. Which I guess led him to start researching the muses.”
“You didn’t.” Callie frowned. “Mel, we don’t know anything about this guy. The theater, Nia, our calling, this is our responsibility.”
Mel jumped out of her chair. “I get it, okay? But there’s something about him. He wants to help us.”
Clio cocked a brow. “That’s pretty hopeful for the Muse of Tragic Poetry.”
“Right?” Mel shook her head. “I’m telling you, though—he really could help us. Yes, I don’t know him well, but I can tell you he’s been shot twice, he respects my teaching abilities, and he believed me when no one else did.” A light bulb burst to life over her head. “And I trust him.”
That last part was meant to be in her inside voice.
Callie and Clio shared a quiet look before Callie stood. “Maybe he’s your Guardian.”
“What?” Mel frowned. “Seriously?”
Callie glanced at Clio and back to Mel, then raised her eyebrows. “Well, he could be. You said you felt a connection with him.”
She was stretching, but Mel couldn’t help but think about the night he took her back to her condo. Something had left him physically shaken up, but he wasn’t sharing what. He also came to her with pages of Kronos masks out of the blue. And after she’d kissed him, he asked if she’d seen anything.
What did he see? Maybe he was seeing visions.
Holy crap. Clio might be on to something.
Mel pointed to the scrolls. “How do I tell if he’s my guy?”
“Your Guardian.” Clio slipped her glasses back into place. “All it references is being ‘marked by the gods.’”
Mel started to smile. “I guess I’ll have to get him naked and check for any markings.”
Callie groaned. “Hey, we made a pact.”
“That was before we had this information.” They both turned toward Clio.
Callie frowned. “What are you saying?”
Clio shrugged. “I think I’m saying if these Guardians find us, there may be a reason we need to keep them close.” Then she quickly added, “Maybe he’s the key to finding Nia’s killer.”
“Exactly.” Mel nodded. “And once we’re safe, he might be able to help us with the theater, too. He did say he would look into helping us get the permits.”
Callie threw her hands up. “I give up.” She glanced between the two of them. “But I intend to keep our pact and stay focused.”
“I know, I know. Inspiration before intercourse.” Mel chuckled.
Clio giggled, and Callie shot her a glare. “This isn’t a laughing matter.”
“If we don’t laugh, we’d cry. Would that be better?” Mel crossed her arms, her gaze locked on Callie. “We’ve already lost Nia, and if Nate is right, they could have all our names on a list.”
Clio picked up her books. “Why would they want to keep us from opening the theater?”
Mel shrugged. “Nate thinks it’s a way to hurt our ‘father’, to punish him for imprisoning Kronos.”
Callie raised a brow. “But you don’t think so.”
“Zeus isn’t exactly around to weep for us. I think there’s another reason, and it’s got to be connected to the theater. We just need to figure it out.”
Callie nodded. “And until then we all should be very careful.”
Nate checked his cell while he waited for the doctor to come in. The nurse left him a paper gown but they let him keep his pants on, so covering his chest with the flimsy thing seemed silly. His doctor knew about his scars anyway.
He scrolled through his e-mails and clicked on one from the city planner’s office. Nate helped him with a trespassing neighbor a few years back and called in a favor to see if he could figure out who was delaying Mel’s building permits.
The reply was simple. There was no paper trail, but the building commissioner’s largest campaign donor was Belkin Oil.
Why would an oil company care about restoring a theater? There had to be someone else putting up roadblocks.
The door opened, and he tucked his cell in his pocket.
“Hey, Nate. How’re you feeling?”
Dr. Lee had been Nate’s general practitioner since high school. If Nate was seriously going crazy, he figured his longtime doctor would be able to tell. And if the thing on his back was skin cancer, maybe he could get it removed while he was here.
“I’m all right. Worried about my birthmark on my back. It looks angry.”
The doctor finished with noting something on the chart and pulled on some latex gloves. “Have you been wearing sunscreen when you run?”
Nate nodded. “Yeah. But I usually wear a shirt anyway.”
Cold hands on his back had his nipples shrunken to sunflower seeds. Dr. Lee hummed, poking and squeezing. “Does it itch? Have you been scratching it?”
“No, but sometimes it burns.”
It started the night he took Mel to the precinct. He frowned. And it got worse when he was researching the connection between the muses and Zeus.
Usually when I’m worried about Melanie Jacoby.
The doctor came around to the other side. “I’m going to give you a referral to a dermatologist. It doesn’t look like skin cancer, but it could be some type of rash.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
While Dr. Lee typed the referral into the computer, Nate rubbed his hands on his pants and forced the words from his mouth. “There’s something else, too.”
His doctor looked up. “All right.”
“I’ve been having these…visions. Like sometimes I touch something and…see what happened, I think.” He shook his head. “Am I losing it?”
Dr. Lee typed something and met his eyes. “Any headaches or blackouts?”
“No.”
His fingers tapped the keyboard. “Are the visions painful?”
“No.”
“And you’re not falling asleep when they come on?”
Nate chuckled. “Definitely not.”
Dr. Lee started typing as he spoke. “I’ve known you a long time, so I’m going to share something off the record.” He crossed his arms and rolled his stool back. “There are things medical science can’t explain. Why a father can suddenly find the strength to lift a car off his child, or how a mother can sense when her baby is in danger.” He stood up. “A good detective can
become very dependent on his intuition, and maybe these visions are an extension of this. Unless you start experiencing pain, blindness, or loss of consciousness, the fact that you recognize that this is irregular tells me that you’re not ‘losing it.’”
The weight of worry lifted from Nate’s shoulders. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how afraid he’d been that he might have had a brain tumor. “Thanks, Doc.”
Dr. Lee reached for the door. “The mark on your back is another story. Don’t ignore it.”
“I’ll call the dermatologist.”
“See that you do.” He smiled and left the room.
Nate put his shirt back on. So he wasn’t crazy or dying. But if the visions were real, Mel was in danger, and he had to figure out how to use the visions to help, and fast.
Melanie. He sighed. It seemed to always come back to her. He was teetering on the border of obsession. He ran a hand down his face. This had to stop.
He headed back to his place, eager for a run. He needed to clear his head and think, trace the webs and find the spider wearing the golden Kronos mask.
The beach was crowded, but he popped in his ear buds and the noise faded away. His running playlist had a driving beat to help him keep his pace. He stayed on the boardwalk to keep the sand out of his shoes, and the breeze from the ocean kept him from overheating. The ritual helped, every step brought his mind more in focus.
Why did he only have visions sometimes?
He needed to do more research, but maybe thinking about a crime brought them on, or maybe whatever he touched had a story to tell. But he gripped the torqued wheel of the bicycle at the scene of the hit-and-run and nothing. Then when Mel kissed him, so many places had flashed before his eyes that he couldn’t keep up. The connection had to be the muses and that theater.
And it ended in Crystal City.
What was he missing?
He pumped his legs faster, sweat rolling down his face. Shifting his focus, he worked backward from the theater. The building commissioner delayed the permits, and the biggest supporter of his campaign was an oil company. It made no sense. Why would they care about a theater?
My Paranormal Valentine: A Paranormal Romance Box Set Page 95
