My Paranormal Valentine: A Paranormal Romance Box Set

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Maggie babbled about school and the teacher all the way to the ice cream shop. When they got out, she raced up to grab Nate’s hand, and then reached her other hand out to Mel. Their three joined shadows stretched out in front of them, making Nate’s chest ache. This was the shadow of a family.

  One he never had.

  One Maggie was missing.

  He looked over at Mel. Her attention was on Maggie while they talked about their favorite ice cream flavors. Could life ever be this simple and safe?

  Inside, they each ordered a cone and savored their desserts. Maggie’s lips were outlined in Rocky Road as she glanced between him and Mel. She tilted her head at Mel. “Are you in love with Uncle Nate?”

  He almost choked. Mel nudged him under the table and smiled at Maggie. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because he’s good and he’s lonely. He needs someone to love him.”

  He should’ve seen this coming. Why had he thought bringing Mel would be a good idea?

  Before he could save himself, Maggie went on. “He should take you to min-ature golf. I told him he has to do fun things to have friends.”

  Mel grinned. “Speaking of fun things, I was telling Nate it might be a blast to have a barbeque at the park, and you could invite some kids from your class. Maybe make some friends of your own.”

  Maggie bounced in her chair. “Could we have a piñata?”

  Mel nodded. “And we’ll stuff it with candy.”

  While Maggie and Mel plotted, he sat back in awe of this woman who’d completely detoured Maggie’s inquisition. His muse was pure magic.

  And the more he cared about her, the more his blood pressure rose. She’d given him nothing to fear, but the urge to run raised its ugly head anyway. He would never be worthy of someone like her. She’d realize it eventually. He should save himself while he still had a chance.

  He finished his cone and cleared his throat. “We should probably get you back to the Gaineses’ house so you can get your homework done.”

  “Can I come to your house? Mel’s a teacher. She could prob-ly help me. Mrs. Gaines says our ‘new’ math is impossible.”

  Mel chuckled and rested her hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “I’m an English teacher. I’m useless when it comes to math homework, but I promise we’ll get the barbeque planning started and bring you invitations for your classmates soon, okay?”

  “Okay.” Maggie didn’t sound excited, but at least she didn’t complain about going back to her foster home.

  When they got out of the car, Mrs. Gaines opened the door and waved. Maggie hugged Nate tightly around the neck and whispered against his ear. “Take Mel to golf. She likes you.”

  He laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She pulled back and met his eyes. “See you soon.”

  Maggie squeezed Mel in a fast hug and then raced up the walkway and into the house.

  Mel smiled up at him. “Let me guess, you got her the FBI backpack.”

  “You saw the way she grilled us at the ice cream shop. She’ll be an excellent agent someday.”

  They got back in the car, and Mel rested her hand on his thigh. “I hope you don’t mind the barbeque. It wasn’t my place, I know. It’s not like we’re a couple and Maggie’s not our little girl. I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds. I just want to see her make some friends at her new school.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. She moaned, opening her mouth as his tongue brushed her lips. He slid a hand into her hair, wishing he could say the words brewing inside him and praying she’d feel them.

  Then her cell phone chimed. Horrible timing.

  She pulled back, desire in her eyes. “Damned phone.” She checked it and frowned. “E-mail from Callie. She needs me at the theater.”

  “What happened?”

  Mel shrugged. “She doesn’t say. Just says that it’s urgent.” She glanced his way. “I know you’ve got stuff to take care of. If you can drop me back at school, I’ll take my car over.”

  His birthmark started warming with a dull throb. “I should go with you. Just in case.”

  She frowned. “She didn’t say it was dangerous. She probably wants to show me how to set the new security cameras or something. With Callie everything is larger than life and urgent.”

  “No.” The throbbing intensified. “Something’s wrong.”

  Nate turned the car around and raced in the direction of the theater.

  He stayed in the shadows of the wings of the theater with his gear. Getting in had been trickier since the muses had installed cameras, but nothing a little black spray paint couldn’t fix. He blackened two of the cameras, hacked into Callie O’Connor’s e-mail, and now he waited for a response.

  Finally, an e-mail popped in his phone saying that Melanie Jacoby was on her way. Perfect.

  He checked the pressure on the sprayer, his nerves on high alert. When the acid ambush hadn’t worked, he’d decided on a less artistic end for the Muse of Tragic Poetry. He’d douse her in gasoline and set her on fire. He’d cross another muse off the list and burn down the theater all in one evening.

  And if the fucking detective was with her, then so be it. He’d kill him, too.

  Killing an officer would bring backlash from law enforcement, but he was beyond caring. The detective had a sixth sense when it came to Melanie Jacoby’s safety; swooping in to save her at the condo after finding her dead roommate, having the bomb squad defuse the C-4 explosives, and then intercepting him before the sulfuric acid could be put to use.

  A car pulled up outside. He reached for his gold mask and put it on. He tightened his hold on the spray trigger.

  Glory was only a moment away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  By the time he parked the car, Nate’s birthmark was aching, burning. There was definitely danger up ahead.

  He drew his weapon. “Wait here.”

  Mel got out and slammed the door. “You’re not going in there without backup.”

  Dammit. He glanced her way. “It’s my job. Get in the car so I know you’re safe.”

  “You call John and wait for him to get here so I know you’re safe.”

  “This isn’t a game, Mel.” He tipped his head toward the car. “I can handle this.”

  “I’m sure you can, but you’re right that this isn’t a game. Either you take me as your backup or you wait.”

  He tightened his grip on his Glock. “We’ve already had this discussion. Why are you fighting me on this?”

  “Because sometimes I think I care more about your welfare than you do.”

  The burning on his shoulder moved to his chest. Had anyone other than his partner ever cared about his welfare?

  He clenched his jaw. Focus, Malone.

  “Fine. Stay behind me, and when I say take cover, you hide and stay there.”

  She nodded, and he prayed she meant it. He sent a text to John, too. Whatever happened, backup was on its way.

  Nate slid through the opening in the chain-link fence and held it open for Mel to follow. There was no vision when he touched it this time. Maybe he was overreacting. He scanned the rotten rooftop, his weapon aimed and ready. Nothing.

  He tipped his head toward the building and headed for the shadows. Mel followed close behind. At the inner door to the theater, he stopped. Glancing at her, he lowered the gun and reached for the handle with one hand.

  Light exploded in his head. A man in a robe. His hood was up, faceless. He carried a metal canister with a pump on the top, like a sprayer for weed killer, and ran down the aisle to the wings of the stage. Right side.

  And then the vision was gone.

  “He’s got a sprayer of some kind. Could be acid or God knows what. Wait for me here, okay?”

  That hell-no wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. “You can’t go in there alone. Wait for John to get here.”

  “The second that robed psycho hears those sirens blaring, he’ll run. This is our chance to catch the guy.”

  She pressed her lips togethe
r, and then sighed. “Fine. But I’m coming with you. Someone has to call 9-1-1 if things go wrong.”

  He shook his head. “Mel, you’re the one he wants. Stay here.” He searched her eyes. “Please.”

  She groaned, rolling her eyes. “You had to say please.”

  He almost smiled. Brushing a kiss to her cheek, he whispered, “I’ll be back soon.”

  By some miracle, the door hinges didn’t squeak. He kept his Glock raised and ready as he crept down the aisle toward the stage. One beam of light came through a hole in the roof, like a cosmic spotlight on center stage. He was banking on the hooded guy still being off in the right wing of the stage. With any luck, Nate could come in behind him.

  That was the plan anyway.

  Life-and-death situations slowed his pulse, bending time. His focus grew as the tension mounted. He made his way up the steps on the side, his attention on the dusty curtains on the wings.

  A faint thump froze him where he stood. Nate scanned for any sign of movement. Nothing. He steadied himself and continued. Once he ducked behind the first velvet curtain, the light vanished, plunging him into darkness. He held his breath, sliding his foot forward.

  Click. He spun toward the sound. Three steps and there was a small flicker of light. A flame? “Put it down. Hands up,” he said.

  The robed man turned around, the light reflecting off the gold mask. “Where is she?”

  “None of your damned business. Now put your hands up where I can see them and walk slowly toward me.”

  The lighter clattered to the floor, taking the light with it. Nate ran blindly after the footsteps. By the time he got out of the wings, he jumped down the staircase and chased after the hooded man, praying Mel was hiding. He pumped his legs faster, widening his stride, but he’d never get to the doors to the lobby before the man in the Kronos mask.

  His perp stretched his arms and hit the doors, but they didn’t open. He fell backward. Before Nate could make a grab for him, he scrambled up, clamoring through the back row of broken, dusty seats. Nate pursued the worm in the hood, but his frame was bigger than the perp’s and it slowed him down.

  Sirens screamed in the distance. If they got here in time, he could flush the guy into the parking lot and he’d be trapped.

  The gold mask turned his way before the guy pushed through the door. Nate plowed through the last few seats and opened the door. No perp and no Mel. His heart hammered. Had the masked bastard grabbed her?

  “Mel?”

  “I’m okay. He went that way. Outside.”

  Nate didn’t hesitate. When he burst into the sunlight, the hooded man was already slipping through the cut in the fence. Nate sprinted for the opening, but the Kronos worshipper had a monumental lead. By the time Nate was through the fence, the stranger was out of the parking lot on foot. No car this time.

  When Nate got to the street, the guy in the robe was gone. Nate scanned both directions. Nothing.

  He bent over. “Fuck.” He straightened and looked both ways again. “Dammit.”

  Two black-and-whites screeched into the lot. John jumped out of the first stopped car and hustled over. “What the hell happened?”

  “Mel got an e-mail to meet her friend here, and I had a bad feeling. I was right.”

  John looked past him. “Is she here?”

  Nate nodded. “Inside.”

  John walked away while Nate gave one of the officers a description, but if the guy took off the mask, it wouldn’t help. He still hadn’t seen the guy’s face.

  Mel was just getting up from the dirty floor when Nate’s partner came in. “You all right?”

  She nodded, dusting herself off. “Yeah. Is Nate okay?”

  “Just pissed the guy got away.” He looked past her and frowned. “What is that?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at the back of the chair wedged under the door handles and the dusty table pressed against it. “I heard Nate tell the guy to put his hands up and then a scuffle, so I tried to slow him down a little.”

  Nate’s partner smiled. Apparently he knew how, after all. Who knew?

  “Nice work.”

  “Not really.” She shrugged. “He still got away, right?”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t get you, which is really all my partner cared about.”

  Mel raised a brow. “Is this the part where you tell me to leave him alone?”

  John turned to check the empty doorway, and then focused on her again. “I was an asshole, but I don’t want to see him get into trouble. He’s a great cop. Best partner I’ve ever had.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think he’s pretty amazing, too, and even if he pissed me off, I’d never try to get him fired. The world is a safer place with Nate Malone in it.”

  John almost smiled again. “I like the way you think.”

  Speak of the devil…

  Nate came through the door, rushing past John, and embraced her. Tight. Suddenly he stiffened and stepped back, clearing his throat. “I’m glad you’re safe.” His gaze cut to his partner. “He had a lighter and a sprayer on the stage, but he didn’t take them when he ran.”

  John nodded. “Let’s check it out.”

  They moved her furniture barricade out of the way, and she followed them down the aisle toward the stage. John slowed his pace enough to fall in step with her behind Nate. “So how is it that anytime you’re in danger, my partner is right there ready to swoop in?”

  She stared at the back of Nate’s head. “Cop’s intuition, I guess.”

  “How’d you know, Malone?” John asked, trying a new tact.

  Nate jogged up the stairs to the stage and turned back. “Her friend wouldn’t say it was urgent without telling her what was wrong. It’s not in Callie’s nature. Subtle isn’t her thing. I knew something was up.”

  Mel paused at the bottom of the stairs, a smile warming her lips. Nate had only met Callie a couple of times, but he had her personality nailed. He really was a great cop. Smart, strong, instinctive, and…hers. For now.

  She rolled her eyes at herself and followed them up the stairs.

  Nate and John had their flashlight apps glowing in the wings, inspecting the sprayer. A Bic lighter lay forgotten a few feet from the canister. John tugged a pair of latex gloves from his pocket.

  “He was wearing black gloves,” Nate said. “We won’t get any prints.” He knelt down, sniffing around the top of the sprayer. “Smells like gas.”

  Mel stared at the discarded lighter, heart pounding. “He was going to set me on fire.”

  Nate got up and came to her side. “We’re going to get him.”

  She looked up at him and frowned. “Hopefully before he gets me.”

  Until this moment, the danger had loomed in the distance. It was out there, but it hadn’t seemed real. Seeing the gas sprayer and the lighter, knowing the wacko had hacked Callie’s e-mail… Now the danger was real and right up on her ass. She pulled in a slow cleansing breath. If Nate hadn’t insisted on coming with her, she would’ve been in an inferno right now.

  Nate cupped her cheek. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Don’t you need to get—”

  “John, you got this?”

  His partner nodded. “Yeah, we’re good here.”

  “I’m going to call the techs and see if they can trace the IP address where the e-mail originated. Maybe we can track him that way.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll let you know if we find anything here.”

  “Thanks, man.” Nate caught her hand. “Let’s go.”

  Once they were back in Nate’s car, he turned toward her. “I know you’re not going to like this, but you shouldn’t go to work or any of the places this nutjob knows he can find you.”

  Deep inside, her muse wallowed in the fear and threat of danger. They’d never be able to find this guy. They didn’t even know if it was only one guy. There could be many of them with that mask. She wasn’t safe anywhere.

  Nate’s gut clenched with dread as Mel blinked and met his
eyes. “No. What if that’s what they want? If I stay put in one place, I’m an easier target, right?” She shook her head. “My students have their slam poetry coming up, and we’ve got to get the barbeque together for Maggie. I promised her.”

  “I can tell Maggie I have a big case. The party in the park can wait. She’ll understand.”

  Mel took his hand. “She’ll understand that she only matters when it’s convenient. You told me yourself that she has no one. This is important.” She broke eye contact. “They aren’t going to kill me with hundreds of people watching.”

  He caught her chin, waiting for her eyes to meet his. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

  She nodded slowly. “But I don’t want them to hurt you, either.”

  “We’re going to get to the bottom of this.” He kissed her forehead. “Until then, I’m getting you some pepper spray and maybe a permit to carry concealed.”

  Mel chuckled, shaking her head. “I’ll take the pepper spray, but I don’t think I should have a gun. I don’t even have a license. I’m more likely to shoot you or myself accidentally than a bad guy on purpose.”

  He rolled his eyes and started the car. “I’ll teach you everything before I let you stick a pistol in your purse.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “We’ll see.”

  Mel called Callie on the way over to let her know about the e-mail, and by the time they drove up to her place, all the muses were gathered in the living room. Nate’s stomach churned, but he smiled as one of them hopped up from the table. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her hazel eyes sparkled behind her black-rimmed glasses.

  “You must be Mel’s Guardian. I’m Clio, the Muse of History.” She grinned, a little pink lighting up her cheeks. “I’m the one who found out you existed.”

  He shook her hand. Firm, all business. “Nice to meet you, Clio. I’m Nate.”

  Clio spun around to the table. “Everyone, this is Nate, Mel’s Guardian. They’re real!”

  He caught Mel’s eye, silently pleading for an escape route. She smiled, but made no move to drag him out. The next few minutes were a blur of names and muses. As a detective, he used memory tricks for attaching names to faces and places. While they chatted about e-mail passwords and security cameras, he glanced around the table making such connections.