by K.N. Lee
“Yeah, those two days off must have been brutal,” he said, his tone dark with biting sarcasm.
“Ben.”
“You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?” He crossed his arms but didn’t raise his chin in his usual I want a fight posture.
“No.” Obviously.
“Your birthday supper. I made reservations.”
Damn. Well, so much for turning thirty. Who’d have thought the landmark would sneak up on her without notice?
“I’m sorry. But—”
“You have to work.” He sounded so disappointed, not angry or even self-defeated.
Now she felt lower than old gum stuck on the bottom of a shoe. Marriage was all about compromises. That was what it meant to be an adult. He looked at her with his brown eyes and whatever shame she’d held in her heart over Seth and Shannon and even Azkeel melted. Ben was her best friend. He cared for her so much. She could feel it deep within her, even when he was miles away.
So life got complicated. It always would. If she wanted to continue in the OCU, she’d need to develop better coping mechanisms.
“Why don’t we do it now?” she asked, closing the box of cereal.
“It’s late. Everything’s closed.”
“This is a college town. There are still a few things open.”
He smiled and she matched it. She knew what he was thinking: all those hours during their undergraduate years spent in the twenty-four-hour diner across the street from the university’s campus, usually at one in the morning.
“There’s one just down the street.”
He stood and grabbed his coat from the back of her easy chair. She slipped her shoes back on, and since she hadn’t taken off her coat yet, she was ready to go. They left holding hands as if nothing were amiss. For the moment, they were once again best friends, engaged, and happy.
It wasn’t so late for the streets to be empty, eleven at night was still early in a college town, but the rush and press of non-students going about their daily routine was absent. The air was crisp, with the hint of winter when the wind blew, but she didn’t mind. Ben was happy, and if she pretended that she hadn’t met Seth, she was happy as well. She had a lead in her investigation, she was behind in her fellowship research — but no matter — all in all, life was good, really.
It could be worse. She could still be stuck in that other-world.
That, however, was behind her, and she had a promising life ahead of her in this world.
38
Mabel’s Diner had a prime corner location and boasted a wide bank of windows looking out at the busy intersection of King and Main. It was in the heart of the student village, between St. Anne’s College and the much bigger state university, and Rowan had never seen it closed or empty.
Inside, it gleamed all chrome and black and white linoleum. Red plastic — that was supposed to look like leather — covered the benches and chairs and the shiny gray Formica tabletops reflected the bright overhead lights. An equal mix of posters of old rock-and-roll and movie stars and floor-to-ceiling mirrors crammed all available wall space. The mirrors made the diner appear bigger, brighter, and spacious. Elvis blared from a jukebox near the kitchen’s service window, and the air smelled of onion rings and hamburgers.
She always felt she was in a fifties movie every time she visited. The waitresses wore poodle skirts and if the furniture wasn’t so cramped together, they’d probably be on roller skates.
Ben sat at a booth in the front window, her favorite spot, and she knew he’d chosen it just for her. He would have taken a dark corner at the back of the restaurant — if there had been a dark corner in the diner.
Their waitress arrived, deposited menus in front of them, rambled off a list of the specials, then left.
“Let me guess.” Ben closed his eyes and placed the menu on his forehead in his bad fortune teller imitation. “A chocolate milkshake and a hamburger with fries.”
“Is there anything else to have in a diner?” Rowan’s stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t had much to eat all day.
“Then you know what that means?” He smiled. It sent warmth spreading through her. Not the same kind of heat that Shannon inspired nor Seth’s electricity, but it was more comfortable and certain not to burn. This was her love, her certainty in her and Ben, returning. See, momentary mental stutter. That was all her chilled passion had been.
“Blue plate special.” She matched his grin. “Yes, they have shepherd’s pie.”
“Do you think we should serve that at the wedding?”
Her warmth turned to ice. They were a long way away from the wedding. At least so she’d thought. After her fellowship. That was the deal. “Gee, that was subtle.”
“I’ve heard that weddings require a lot of planning,” he said.
Meaning he didn’t think she’d done any. Which was true, but not the point.
“I’m still in the middle of my research.”
He leaned forward, and she was grateful for the table between them, suddenly not wanting the closeness he obviously desired.
“We could at least pick a date.” His voice was low, as if the fact that they were engaged without a wedding date was embarrassing.
Their waitress arrived, and he sat back. She took their orders and their menus.
Rowan waited until the woman left. “I have a good idea when I’ll be done, but I don’t want to set anything in stone, in case—”
In case the FBI called her in with more work and delayed her research.
But she didn’t want to say that. Ben wasn’t really happy with that aspect of her life and she didn’t want to remind him. They’d been doing fine — for all of thirty minutes.
He sat back. “In case you change your mind about marrying me?”
The truth of his words stung. But she wasn’t ready to accept it without a fight. “Where would you get that idea?”
“Your ring.”
She glanced at her hands. She’d taken the ring off when Brown had asked her to come along to pick up Manny. It was an antique from Ben’s grandmother and she hadn’t wanted to risk it. Funny, she’d worn it for so long, she would have thought that she’d have missed its presence.
She shoved her hands under the table. “I didn’t want it to get damaged.” The excuse sounded weak even in her ears. It must have sounded completely pathetic to Ben.
And from his expression, she hadn’t guessed wrong.
“Listen, Ben—”
“We’ve been engaged for nine months without setting a date, and we’ve been dating, God, for years.”
“Don’t count. It will make me feel old.” She’d meant it as a joke, but from the dark look he gave her, he didn’t think it funny at all.
Behind her, the bell above the front door chimed. She glanced at the mirror across from her to see who’d entered. She didn’t know why. Instinct. Reflex. Whatever it was, she watched Seth walk into the diner, all dark and sexy.
Her heart sank. She’d hoped when she’d returned home that he’d abandon his efforts to force her into finding his brother. She had hoped — albeit reluctantly — that she’d never see him again.
He stood in the doorway and scanned the diner with a confidence that screamed cocky and powerful. He was checking the place out, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. His gaze fell on her reflection in the mirror, and a lazy smile pulled at his lips.
She forced herself to keep a straight face, hoping her lack of response would frustrate him. But if it did, he didn’t show it. Instead, he took a table on the other side of the diner and sat where she could see him in the mirror.
“I know we had a deal, but I think you should just come home,” Ben said. “You can complete your studies long distance.”
She forced her attention back to Ben. It felt like she’d missed half of the conversation. “You know I can’t.”
“Or won’t.”
“That’s—”
Their food arrived and they sat in sullen silence while the waitre
ss set it on the table.
“That’s not fair,” she said once the woman was gone.
“There’s nothing here that you can’t get at home.”
She glanced at Seth in the mirror. He was talking with a waitress.
“Gee, my fellowship mentor,” Rowan said.
“You can talk through email.”
“What about the teaching components for the fellowship?”
“You can teach at U of T.” Ben stabbed his shepherd’s pie with his fork but didn’t take a bite.
“Toronto doesn’t have the same programs as St. Anne’s. And the FBI has the only Occult Crimes Unit in North America at the moment.”
Seth gave the waitress a sexy, melt-your-bones smile. She giggled and blushed. Rowan ground her teeth. She shouldn’t be pissed that Seth was making the waitress giggle but she was, and that pissed her off even more. Somehow she’d let him have control of her emotions and thoughts and she hated that.
“I know the FBI has the only Occult Crimes Unit in North America,” Ben said, “but sacrifices need to be made.”
“Like what?” Rowan said, sharper than she intended.
“Like this job, for starters.”
“That’s not fair. You said—”
Ben stared at his meal and clutched his fork, turning his knuckles white.
She wanted to scream at him for lying, for convincing her everything was all right and that he understood how important the OCU was to her. But she’d always known that moment in her apartment, when he’d held and comforted her after she’d been shot, had been the lie.
Seth stood and headed toward the hall marked washrooms.
“Rowan, I—”
Seth’s jeans clung to his butt and thighs, accentuating the muscles underneath as he moved. Her heart stuttered with desire and rage. This was his fault. She didn’t know how Manny shooting her or Ben arguing about their deal was his fault, but it was.
“Rowan?” Ben asked, his tone hard.
She ripped her gaze from Seth and focused on Ben. He would get his answers. She would have something to satisfy him, something that a good, kind man like him deserved. They could work out a compromise, somehow, some way. But first, she had a demon to banish.
39
Rowan rose from her seat in the diner, intending to follow Seth into the hall marked washrooms. She was going to end this right now and get back to the life she’d planned.
“Excuse me,” she said to Ben.
Ben nodded. It felt like he was giving her permission. She ignored the feeling, knowing it wasn’t true. He was just being polite, acknowledging her. Something she was neglecting to do for him with her job and life and everything right now. But she would fix that, just after she’d taken care of Seth.
She rushed across the diner to the hall, pausing at the door labeled men’s. Instead, she chose the door with the exit sign above it. She doubted Seth visited twenty-four-hour diners. It didn’t seem his style, too low class for him. Which meant he had to be there for her, and she had to tell him — and herself — that she was no longer going to play his games.
She opened the door and found herself in a narrow service hall, not outside in an alley as she’d expected. Seth leaned against the wall across from her, arms crossed, posture casual, but he couldn’t eliminate the sense of danger that radiated from him. He was waiting for her.
A shiver of desire and fear swept over her. She didn’t know what infuriated her more, that she’d followed him, or that he’d known she would.
He was elegance and sex just standing there. His undone jacket revealed a tight T-shirt that accentuated his muscled torso. A lock of hair had slipped free of the ponytail at the nape of his neck and curled along his jaw, drawing her eyes to his lips.
She’d almost kissed those lips. She’d wanted to kiss those lips.
If she’d been thinking, she should have called the police on him, not confronted him. But she needed to prove she could stand against him and win — or in the very least, hold her ground.
She leaned against the wall by the door and crossed her arms, matching his pose — although she doubted she was half as sexy as he was. Besides, it was safer to keep her distance. Not that he couldn’t mesmerize her and be at her side in a flash, like he’d done in the back alley at the high stakes bookie’s club, but it was the thought that counted.
“I had an interesting discussion with Manny,” she said.
Seth didn’t move. “How is he?”
“Seeing demons.”
“I see.” He half-cocked a dark eyebrow. The only hint this turn of conversation amused him… or interested him?
Damn, she wished she could read him, know just what to ask, and sense the meaning lying under his words. His father, the black, light-sucking shade, had been easier to read.
“You have no more control over me,” she said, meaning that he couldn’t keep her prisoner in a world which she didn’t belong in, but the meaning seemed different once spoken.
He raised the eyebrow in full, making her look in his eyes. Their black nothingness absorbed all light.
She trembled and stared at the wall beside his head. She had questions for him. Questions about Manny and the murdered girls, but she couldn’t make them form in her mind in a way that would make him talk. The words were stuck. All she could think about was him, his eyes, his lips, his chest, and how all of that would feel beneath her hands.
This was ridiculous. Even if she could match him wit for wit, he’d still never reveal his plans. She was wasting her time, all for his amusement.
She reached for the door handle to return to Ben in the diner and between one heartbeat and the next Seth was beside her. He grabbed her wrist and spun her back. She stumbled, leaning against his chest. His muscles flexed under her hands and desire flooded her.
“You don’t belong with him,” he said, his breath hot against her cheek.
She tried to wrench away, but he squeezed her arms, holding tight. This was a twist to his game she didn’t want to play. Did he think so little of her as to believe that after his threats she’d fall for flirtation?
“He’s boring. Normal.”
“I’m boring and normal,” she said, jerking against his grip.
“No, you’re not.”
“I hate to disappoint you.” She rammed her heel down his shin and twisted away.
He let go, and she lunged for the door and the safety of the populated diner. He seized the back of her shirt, yanked her against the wall behind her, and pinned her with his body.
“I beg to differ.” A wry smile pulled at his lips. It made his eyes bright, no longer a black vortex, but the corona of the sun during an eclipse.
Her pulse rushed in her ears. Her chest pressed against his every time she sucked in breath, and she fought to keep her thoughts focused on the imminent situation — and not the part that included him against her. God, she wanted to melt into him and hated herself for it.
“You can’t make me go back,” she said.
“I won’t have to make you do anything. You’ll go all on your own now.” He brushed his lips against her cheek, sending shivers through her.
Her knees buckled and she pressed her back into the wall to keep standing. “The hell I will.”
“Are you so sure?”
“Ye—” But she hadn’t controlled her world-walking when she’d come back. There was no indication she had control of it now. A flicker of ice in her gut soured her desire. Her relationship with Ben might not survive another two-day disappearance.
“When you walk — and trust me, you’ll walk again — you’ll need a helper in my world.”
“Gee, out of the kindness of your heart.” Her breath heaved. Electricity from his nearness jumped up and down her skin, setting her nerves on fire, devouring the fear of losing Ben and making her ache for Seth. “I already have an ally.”
Seth snorted. “I don’t think he’ll satisfy” — he paused and let the connotations of the word fly through her mind — �
�all your needs.”
“My needs,” she said between gritted teeth, “are already met.”
He tipped his head back and laughed, sending tremors of desire racing through her. “We are too much alike, Rowan Hill.”
She doubted that.
“There are challenges for walkers,” he said. “Particularly those who are human, since there’s likely to be a counterpart in the other world, but you… you have the freedom of both worlds. You just need a little integration.”
And all because her other-self was dead. No one else in that world seemed aware of it. As if the other-Rowan had slipped out of existence the moment she’d walked between worlds. No one but Seth.
“Just slip in, take her place,” he said, as if reading her mind. “No one will notice.”
Seth seemed to know everything about her, even before she did. The chill returned and settled in her gut, devouring more of the heat from his contact. It was clear now her other-self was dead, and she hadn’t just traded places with her in this world. And Seth was her prime suspect for that, as well.
She stilled, afraid to alert him of her change of mind. “How am I supposed to believe you’ll just help me? Last time you lied, said that only you could send me home, and I did it all by myself.”
“You don’t.” He gave her a wicked grin that shot electricity through her traitorous body. “But you’re running out of time.”
“Really?” She didn’t ask for what. She doubted he’d tell her.
He brushed his lips against hers and more electricity zapped through her. “Really.”
The door across from her swung open and Ben stood in the doorway. He froze, his eyes wide.
Her heart thumped hard and she could see everything in stark contrast. Ben’s face was white. So were the knuckles of the hand that held the door open. He sucked air in strangled gasps, and for a moment she feared he was going to hyperventilate. Then, without a word, he wrenched around and left.
She shoved Seth aside and lunged for the door, catching it before it closed.
“Rowan,” Seth said.