by Lexi Ostrow
His fingers flew over the screen, and Deidre bit her lip but didn’t stop him. If someone was going to lie, she’d done enough to last her a few years.
“Here,” Jonathon slid the phone back to her with the text messages closed out.
“What did you say?” She lifted a brow but didn’t glance pull the text up on the screen. “Working a case with Jonathon. We’re running this solo from a lead. Chat soon.” Deidre lowered the phone. “She won’t believe that.”
“I think she will. I spent a lot of time with Lita the first few weeks after things settled down. She is nosy, but she doesn’t ask questions when she gets answers.”
Deidre’s mouth opened and then shut. “You’re right.”
He smirked. Something Deidre found it incredibly sexy, not just because of the perfect white teeth or the glint he got in his dark eyes, but because he only smirked at her. Weeks together, a few outings with others, and he seemed to reserve that cocky, self-assured sense of humor for her.
When this is all over, you two are going to have to admit you’re interested in each other. Her lips quirked up at the thought. Good, you’re assuming this ends well. That’s a start.
“Back to work.” It wasn’t a question. Jonathon slid a manila folder toward her. The smirk slipped away, and his lips settled into a terse line. His eyebrows drew inward, and he flipped the folder that remained in front of him open. “What we need to do is come up with a reason to visit both the wereeagles and the weregators. It has to come across as legitimate police business, or they won’t talk.”
“So, you’ve mentioned … three times in the last hour.” Deidre had grown to find most of Jonathon’s quirks amusing, but not the way he handled business. Condescending was just one word she’d use.
“Sorry,” He didn’t look up as he continued to flip through the file.
With a sigh, Deidre ran her hands through her hair, wincing when her fingers snagged on a small tangle. “Okay, weregators, what have you been up to?”
The bitter tang of bile rose in the back of her mouth as she glanced down at the photo on file. She swallowed the small amount, unsure if another round wouldn’t come. A little girl, no more than four, lay with most of her throat ripped out and crime scene numbers near various limbs. “Oh, goddess,” Deidre closed her eyes and gagged as the image conjured in her mind.
“What?”
She blew out a deep breath, forcing the queasiness away. Still, she saw the small child mutilated on the concrete, laying just before a covered slide.
“Deidre?” Jonathon’s voice held an edge.
She didn’t say anything, just opened her eyes and slid the folder.
“My god,” Disgust rolled through Jonathon’s words.
“I know why we can visit the gators.” Tears blurred her vision. She didn’t need to flip through the file. A gator didn’t protect that small child, a gator killed that small child.
“How was this kept quiet?” Jonathon ran a hand over his short hair and leaned back in the chair. “Who cast the memory spell?” Papers shuffled. “Damn it. No one. They got there too late.”
“Does it matter which gator?”
“No. But approaching an alpha dealing with a murdering congregation member goes smoother with all the information. I’ve met Remy, he’s not the nicest guy.”
“Congregation?”
He blinked at her as if he didn’t understand the question.
“What does that mean? I didn’t know any were group had a religious base for their pack.”
“They don’t … you’re not familiar with the different group terms, are you?”
Suddenly, Deidre felt like a small child receiving a lecture from Ivy’s mom at practice centuries ago. “I don’t make it my business to, no. What are you, an animal expert?”
He chuckled softly. “No, it’s part of the training. Sensitivity training.” Jonathon blew out a breath and closed the file. “Remy, the alpha, was pretty pissed about poaching last time we saw him. Maybe even pissed enough to launch an attack, but I can’t fathom where the funds would come from. The weregators don’t have a congregation business.”
“Personal funds?” She shook off the annoyance. Jonathon hadn’t been attempting to insult, he’d just been doing his job … again.
“That would be a shit ton of money. You heard what the pairing said. It wasn’t cheap.”
“Let’s not discuss them. I’m still not certain I’m thrilled at how things went down bickering won’t get us anywhere.”
“Right. We’ll find the gators today, and we’ll figure out a possible strategy for the eagles tomorrow.” The chair scraped against the floor as he pushed back.
Deidre didn’t expect the hand he offered her to stand. Yes, Jonathon proved to be a gentleman in the past few weeks, but he’d never helped her up before. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to be. You’re not a cop. You don’t stare at mutilated bodies for more hours than is healthy without being labeled a killer. You came into this world after a horrible wrong, it’s still new to you, and it’s okay to be affected by it.”
His words were kind, even the look in his eyes was, but she didn’t like the sentiment. “I’m not weak.” She pushed up, cursing as the chair leg got caught on the chair next to it, causing her to stumble. “Let’s go. If we’re lucky, we can get this done and be free tomorrow.”
He followed behind her, not touching her, but standing just close enough that his warmth wrapped around her. “What do you plan on doing? Launching an assault?”
“No, don’t be stupid. If we can confirm it’s one of them, we’ll get the entire police force up there right after the full moon is gone.”
“That was two days ago.”
“And older shifters – powerful shifters like Elijah – can shift whenever they want. Plus,” Deidre pushed open the door back to the main floor of the station. “If they had enough money to buy that hex, they likely have potions or charms to shift on command. Going when the moon phase has shifted will keep everyone safer since we can’t exactly explain why we need so many police.”
“Filthy animal!”
A deep voice boomed through the large room, shocking Deidre.
Weapons were drawn, and Deidre gasped as two men, both looking worse for their wear with blood on their faces and a variety of swollen facial parts were escorted in, handcuffed, and with cops flanking them.
“What in the hell? Who fights in broad daylight that doesn’t reek of booze?” Jonathon stepped around her, walking toward the front.
“Oh no, you’re not leaving me behind if something is that interesting to you.” Muttering, Deidre closed the gap between them.
“What’s going on here?”
“Not really your business, warlock.” A middle-aged cop with a dark-blond buzz cut shoved right past Jonathon.
“Excuse you? A fellow officer asked you for information.” Deidre knew the glowing ball of witch fire in her hand would get her in trouble.
“I don’t need a witch telling me how to do my job.”
“Angelo,” Jonathon growled. “Knock this shit off. It’s been almost a decade since we began working together – human and Supernatural – don’t be a dick. I just want to help.”
“Help?” A man rasped from just beside Deidre.
She turned to look at the large man. His belly rolled as he chortled and crossed his arms over his chest. Sweat matted curly, dark hair to his face just above his ears. The man looked like a giant teddy bear, not someone who required restraining in cuffs.
“You think you can help?” Some of the jolly vanished from his face as eyes so dark they might have been black narrowed with annoyance. “The cops have done nothing for years. The Council is a joke pandering to those who serve on it.”
Deidre took a step back. She could and would defend herself, but she’d likely get an earful if she did. An angry man does not require a spell cast in his face.
“The only person who can help me is me!” The bellow echoed throu
gh the station.
Deidre flinched at the sudden rise of his voice. Two cops drew their weapons, but none made any moves to shoot.
The man was a were, his face twisting and contorting as it grew outward. Green scales rippled over the elongated snout as teeth jutted out, twisting almost inward to form the gator’s deadly grip.
The fire in her hands grew, green and glowing, even as every instinct screamed at her to get back and out of the way. Her heart thumped in her chest as Deidre twisted her wrist and sent the flame flying. Time slowed as she watched the fiery mass exploded over the gator’s face. He screeched, but the shift continued, scales growing down his neck.
“Down! Now!” An officer, the one who’d been a dick a moment ago, jumped in front of her.
“Págoma!” Jonathon’s voice rang out in the odd silence.
Stepping out from behind the officers's attempt at a protective stance, she shuddered. The weregator stood half-shifted, frozen thanks to the spell.
“Thanks,” Angelo muttered and offered Jonathon a handshake.
To his credit, Jonathon accepted the gesture and then stepped past the trapped shifter. “Dee? You good?”
She nodded, still slightly uncertain why everyone in the room hadn’t jumped to attention when the man shifted. Because you’re standing in a police precinct. Of course, they didn’t freak. Panicking does no good. You could have frozen that shift just as quickly as Jonathon, but you panicked.
“Dee?” Jonathon’s brown eyes searched hers, looking for any sign that she could snap.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, uncertain if the statement held any truth.
“You’re positive?”
She nodded. “And I know where we need to go.”
He gave his own sharp nod. “To see the gators.”
Deidre sighed, the tension she didn’t know she’d trapped in her shoulders releasing.
Jonathon took hold of her wrist, not tightly, just enough to cause her to jump.
“Come on.”
He moved them through the main floor, bobbing and weaving as people calmly continued about their routine. The incident with the shifter was a walk in the park for an office who regularly took in dangerous weres.
“Lannow,” Jonathon simultaneously spoke, banged on the door frame, and walked in the open door.
“Trevors. Missing some respect there?” An elderly man with salt-and-pepper eyebrows glanced from them to Tanner. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“Hey there, Dee!” Tanner turned and beamed at her, the unmistakable charm cascading off him. “Back to work, you two?”
Jonathon ignored Tanner completely. “Lannow, it’s important. I have reason to believe the weregators are “he paused instantly. “I can’t explain. I need permission and someone to go put in a warrant to search the home of everyone in the congregation. All of them.”
“Now, son, you know I can’t do a thing like that with you spouting cryptic nonsense at me.”
Jonathon snorted and started to talk, but Deidre wasn’t listening.
Goddess forgive me. She’d go to jail if anyone ever learned of what she was about to do. Hear me and listen to me, mind what I need.
“Excuse me, I believe I can help.”
Jonathon shot her a look, but she stepped forward and sat in the chair next to Tanner.
“Jonathon and I have reason to believe the weregators are upset with hunting done on their lands and to them. I’m hesitant to say more in case there are ears here. We need warrants, and we need them rushed.”
“Well, I don’t like the lack of details, but consider it done. Tanner,” he shifted his focus. “Why don’t you go file those for them?”
“Me?” Tanner balked, tapping his chest. “We were talking about a swap to vice.”
“Well, now we’re talking about a swap to help your fellow officers. Got it?”
“I don’t know what the hell you two found, but you’re lucky you’re friends,” Tanner mumbled, standing up. “The entire congregation?”
“At the very least the alpha and his immediate family.”
“Consider it done.” With a mock salute, Tanner slipped out of the office.
“Well, don’t just stand there, get moving out to Lafite and those damn swamps.”
Deidre barely concealed her twitch at his barked command.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
Slipping her hand on Jonathon’s shoulder, Deidre steered him out the door.
“What the hell did you do?” He whispered but didn’t stop moving.
“I suggested he listen to me and do what I needed.”
“Fuck, Dee.”
“Shh,” she lifted her finger to her lips. “Does it really matter?”
A mix of emotions drifted over his face, finally landing on exasperation as he sighed, and his shoulders sagged. “No, it really doesn’t. Not if we catch the asshole responsible for hexing us.” Jonathon dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
They walked through the room as if a hostile criminal hadn’t attempted to attack them all five minutes ago. Cops sat at their desks filling out paperwork, the dispatchers could be hearing taking calls in the room off to the left, and no one seemed to notice the pair of casters walking toward the exit.
“Elijah, it’s Jonathon.” His arm reached around her and pushed open the door. “We’re going to need to know where Remy is.”
The open road never appealed to Jonathon. He attributed it to spending years in New York City where there was no such thing as an open road. Not in his lifetime, at least. Now, the empty highway surrounded by swampy marshes on either side seemed to close in on him. You’re just concentrating on Remy.
If the man in the station was an indication, the weregator alpha either ordered the hex or would know who did. People didn’t shift in a room full of cops and potential Supernaturals if they weren’t agitated beyond belief.
This has to be it. We find him, we don’t let on that we know anything, and we get what we need.
“It can’t be a good sign for the alligators if they suddenly picked up and went on vacation right around the time we were hexed.”
Jonathon nodded, his hands gripping the wheel just a tad tighter. His knuckles didn’t go white, but the blood drained just enough to show off the tension. “No, I can’t imagine it is.”
The silence settled around them again.
In the past month, they’d shared plenty of moments of silence. This one was different. Anxiousness was another being sitting in the car with them, lounging in the backseat and threatening to suffocate them if they made the wrong move.
“Are you okay?”
Jonathon let himself glance in her direction. Deidre looked at him, but he couldn’t see if she was annoyed or not under her sunglasses.
“I’m anxious. We could be walking into a trap. You spelled Lannow. We’re lying to everyone, and all I wanted to do was prove to NYPD that I was worth taking back.”
“Well, bust this open, and you will,” Deidre replied haughtily, her head turning to look out the window. “Goddess forbid you ever give New Orleans or the rest of us a chance.”
When his hands tightened this time, Jonathon watched his knuckles go stark white. “That’s not fair.”
“No, what’s not fair is the way you act like you’re better than everyone else except when you’re alone with me.” No feminine hysterics came out. Deidre spoke calm and coolly. “When you’re with me, you’re funny, charming even. You let me see a you no one else gets to see, and it’s not because you’re a fucking workaholic – but you are. It’s because you don’t want to care about any of us.”
“Are you serious right now?” His hand itched to throw the car off to the shoulder and have it out with her, but they didn’t have that kind of time. Neither of them knew if they’d be tested again or if the next time their skin turned hot, they’d flood New Orleans.
“I sure am, Detective Trevors. Guess you can read a crime scene but not a person.”
“I volunteered to marry Lita a whopping sixteen minutes after I met her! I broke the law to keep everyone safe from Vexx when we cornered him and he attacked Lita. I’ve gone out of my way every single day since this happened to keep an eye on you.”
“Well, who asked you to?” Deidre stared at him as she yanked the sunglasses off. “I didn’t want to be in this position, but I’m not monitoring your mental health.”
Jonathon slammed the wheel to the right, nearly launching the car into the metal barrier before shoving the gearshift to park. Blood roared in his ears, drowning out any possible reaction from Deidre.
“Cut the shit, Dee. You’ve tiptoed around me because you’re worried that you’re actually attracted to me. I get it. I’m a couple hundred years younger. I’m guarded. I don’t fit into your hectic little New Orleans world. But don’t for one second think the reason you haven’t been checking in on me is that you don’t care. It’s because you do.”
His chest heaved as he finished shouting. He didn’t take his eyes off hers. Jonathon stared into green pools lit with anger. They rolled with fury and flashed with a fire he’d never seen from her before.
“You’re an asshole.”
Jonathon grunted. “So, I’ve been told.”
Deidre leaned into him and his body reacted. Not responded. Reacted.
Jonathon slanted his lips over hers and let his hands cradle the back of her head. She tasted like sugar and coffee – what she’d been drinking less than an hour ago. The hair underneath his fingers was as soft as her lips underneath his own.
It’d been too long since he’d kissed a woman like this. Like she was the only person left in the world. And to an extent, Deidre was.
He’d found her attractive from the start, but he didn’t do emotional. He didn’t dare involve himself with a woman getting over her husband’s murder. Then the hex trapped them together, and he couldn’t ignore her beauty once he got to see the rest of what made Deidre, Deidre.
Jonathon’s tongue flicked over the seam of her lips. Deidre opened for him, allowing him to slip inside and dare to kiss her the way he’d only done in his dreams. She met him stroke for stroke, unafraid to take what she wanted as she leaned in closer.