by Cat Adams
“It isn’t possible for one person—”
“To be that unlucky?” Emma gave a derisive snort. “You don’t know the half of it. If the woman who cursed her wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her myself. Nobody should have to go through the kind of shit Celia puts up with.” She stood and gathered her things. “Now if you’ll excuse us, Celia and I have business.” She looked from me to Bruno and back. “Unless you’re planning on bailing on me?”
I gave a derisive snort. “Of course not.” I turned to Bruno, who was still glaring daggers at Jan. “You coming with?”
Tearing his gaze away from the other man, he turned to me. “Nope. You go see the house. I’ve seen it. We’ll meet at my place for dinner at … seven o’clock? I want to have plenty of time to get things ready.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” I collected another kiss before I left.
5
I wasn’t sorry to leave. I’d be seeing Bruno later and the tension in that little office had been intense. As we were on our way out of the building, I asked Emma, “What was that all about?”
“If by ‘that’ you mean my snarling at Gary—”
“No. That, I get. He pushed your buttons when he talked about demons. No surprise, considering your history.”
She nodded, her lips pressed in a tight line. “He just won’t leave it alone. Demons fascinate him.”
“And every time he brings the subject up, it chips away at the magical barrier muting your memories. Have you talked to him about it?”
She sighed. “I have. He’s trying to do better. It wasn’t his fault I walked in right then.” She pushed open the door to the outside and held it open for me.
“Just bad luck,” I agreed, then added, “Are you even supposed to park here?”
We were in the faculty lot and Emma was leading me to her father’s assigned spot, which was occupied by a big black SUV. “Normally, no. But since Dad’s in Cairo this year, he isn’t using it, and I needed to borrow his Suburban. I figured since you were coming to the house anyway, I’d get you to help me move Vicki’s big mirror. I don’t really trust the movers with it.”
That made sense. It was a full-length mirror in a big wooden frame, both awkward and heavy. She didn’t need to worry about breaking it, though. It had been spelled until it was pretty much impervious to anything. So the problem wasn’t with the mirror; it was human nature. Like my knives, the mirror was a major magical artifact and thus valuable as hell. People have killed for that sort of thing and many more would be happy to steal it. Emma had inherited the mirror from Vicki because she had been the only other person in our circle with clairvoyant abilities. Emma’s not that powerful, a level four I think, but the mirror has helped her focus, so she’s getting more control and better results, which is, in effect, the same thing as moving up a level or two.
“Do you mind?” she asked.
“Of course not.”
“Oh good.” Emma smiled, pointed the little black keyless remote at the SUV, and pressed the button. Beeping ensued, as did the popping of the door locks. She gestured to the passenger side. “Get in before you start burning.”
I waited until she’d maneuvered the SUV out of the tight parking space before I brought up Jan Mortensen. “What’s with him? Did he, like, not believe I existed?”
She groaned, then answered. “Jan Mortensen is very talented and is a complete and total ass. I don’t have any proof, but I’m pretty sure he’s sleeping with one of his undergrad students.”
“Eww.” I gave a low whistle. While not unheard of, that was completely unethical and a firing offense if he got caught. Which apparently he hadn’t … yet. Since Emma’s a by-the-books kind of gal, and her father’s one of the program administrators, I could understand why she was upset about it. “It’s one thing not to believe all the stories about me. But he actually seems to hate me. Why?”
“I’ve no clue, but you’re right. He’s practically irrational on the subject. He and Bruno don’t get along well because of it.”
I almost felt like I should apologize, which was just silly. Mortensen’s attitude problem was his problem, not mine. I’d never met the guy before today.
We chatted amiably all the way to Emma’s place. She caught me up on Dawna’s wedding plans and I told her about becoming Adriana’s maid of honor. Finally, I got around to bitching about my fight with John Creede.
Emma hadn’t heard we were on the outs. She paused for a long moment after I’d told the whole sad tale—up to the firefight and our escape through the tunnels. “You know,” she said, “I almost feel sorry for the guy.”
“Excuse me?” I stared across the seat at her, eyes wide.
“I mean it. You call him for help. I bet he figured you wanted him to be your white knight, charging in to rescue the damsel in distress—when in fact, you only wanted an efficient subcontractor with excellent equipment. That had to be a blow to the ego of the top guy in the game.”
I spluttered. I couldn’t help it. A white knight? Seriously? So not me.
She shook her head, grinning. “A lot of other women would’ve been angling for the rescue. Probably more than one had done just that. Set up a situation where only he could fix the problem.”
“I’m not like other women.”
“Amen to that.” She laughed, then continued, “But anyway, I can see how he got his signals crossed and wound up grumpy.”
“He wound up more than grumpy.”
“So did you,” she pointed out. “And when you get grumpy, you occasionally overreact. Like … kicking him out of the country when you had people to get to safety?”
Well, that was true enough. We rode in silence for a few minutes. I finally said, “I am perfectly capable of running a large team.”
“Well, duh. Of course you are. Nobody said you weren’t.”
I didn’t answer. She’s a bright girl. She connected the dots and turned to me with shock clear on her face. “Tell me he didn’t! That bastard.” Emma’s face flushed and her eyes blazed. If John Creede had been here now, she’d have given him an earful, no doubt about it.
“He’s not completely wrong, though.” I started reciting the facts. “Glinda offered me the job to get me out of town, not because I was qualified. The company kept the offer on the table because nobody else would take the job—including Miller & Creede. In fact, there’s a good chance MagnaChem hired me because they figured I’d drag Creede into this. It’s not like our relationship’s exactly been a secret.”
Emma pulled the SUV into her father’s long driveway. “Okay, I can buy that.” She cast a glance my way. Her expression was thoughtful, almost stern. In that moment she was every bit her father’s daughter: cold, logical, and brilliant. “But let’s look at this logically. You got everyone out, right?”
“Yes.” It had been damned close, and hard as hell. But we managed it.
“Even after you fired his ass and had no replacements?”
“Yes.”
“And the only injury occurred when John disobeyed your orders?”
“Yes.”
“Other than you being left behind because you saved that local, everything went smoothly once you had a team that did what you told them?”
“Yes.”
She made a voilà-type gesture, then slammed the Suburban into park just outside of the garage door. “Then you’re capable. And he’s an ass.”
We didn’t talk much for a while after that. First, we were mirror wrangling. Second, she’d given me a lot to think about and was giving me time to digest it. Still, I could sense her excitement from the moment we pulled out of the driveway; it grew steadily as we got closer to her new place. Her eyes lit up. Her fingers started tapping against the steering wheel. Hell, she was practically bouncing in her seat.
We rounded one last corner, and there it was.
Wow. Just … wow. I live in the guest house of a mansion and I’ve been in and out of some pretty magnificent homes because of my work. But Emma’s pla
ce … it wasn’t a mansion. It was a church. Okay, it was a small church, but it still probably took up most of an acre. Located on the outskirts of town, it was a beautiful old stone building with a pair of bell towers and gorgeous architectural details. It probably wasn’t old enough or important enough to qualify for the historical society mission trail, and it was too small and outdated for a modern congregation. The church and grounds were surrounded by a gated wall; as we drew up to the gate, I spotted a parking area on the east side and a small cemetery on the west. I wondered who had been buried there—perhaps the very first missionaries stationed there?
“Is it decommissioned?” I was wondering if the place still qualified as holy ground.
“It’s in the process,” she said with a smile. “But even after the paperwork’s done, this place has seen years and years of daily masses and prayers of the faithful. I’ve been told by a church authority that the prayers have sunk into the stone itself.”
Wow. I whistled as she slowed the SUV. “It’ll probably take a hundred years for that kind of protection to wear down.” Emma would be safe—safe from vampires and demons. It wouldn’t be anathema to werewolves, but that was a good thing, since her brother, Kevin, turned into a wolf with the full moon.
“Welcome to my Fortress of Solitude,” Emma quipped. Hitting the button on the garage-door opener she’d clipped to her sun visor rolled back a gate that looked like wrought iron, but was probably heavy-duty, spelled silver steel. There was barely enough time for her rear bumper to clear the perimeter before the gate began moving back into place. And that perimeter! As we crossed it, the magic hit my senses like a ripsaw, making me yelp in unexpected pain. I’ve been able to sense the magical perimeters around most buildings for a while now. Most barriers are no big deal. The better ones are a little uncomfortable. But this … wow … and OW.
“Damn, girl, who did your spell work?”
“Kevin had somebody do it. It’s seriously over the top, right? The wards aren’t lethal, but only because I insisted.” She shook her head.
I paused, trying to come up with a tactful way to ask a very personal question. Kevin had been my friend. Maybe he still is. We’ve had our issues, but I still care about him. He’s a tough SOB, but sometimes even tough isn’t enough. Things happened to him that nobody should have to go through. It left him with a bad case of post-traumatic stress disorder. Paranoia was just one of his issues. “Is he getting therapy?”
“Yeah. But I’m not sure how much it’s helping.” She stopped the car. I saw tears in her eyes as she turned to me. “I’m really worried about him, Celia, but I just don’t know what to do. He’s been through so much. Most of it he can’t or won’t talk about, even to a therapist. I want to help, but I have no clue how.”
The unfortunate truth was that there probably wasn’t a lot we could do other than be there for him and be as supportive of him as we knew how to be. Of course in my case, being supportive might actually be better accomplished by my absence. How much did that suck?
I opened my mouth to say as much, but she held up a hand to stop me. “Don’t. Just … don’t. It isn’t your fault. None of it is.”
Then why did it feel like it was?
“Celia, he was in black ops. No matter how bad the crap you’re involved in gets, none of it is as bad as what he got into on his own. Remember, he was going on missions with Jones and the others for a decade before he even met you. He’s seen things that would put the rest of us in the psycho ward. And you weren’t the one that got him put in the zoo. You’re the one who got him out.”
“The zoo” was what most folks called the jail for werewolves and other preternatural types. It had been a really high-tech, highly spelled installation out in the desert. Had been, until it was taken over by demons. Now it was a layer of glass and blasted earth.
I didn’t know what to say, so I changed the subject. “So, how did you find this place?”
She blushed and I just knew there was more to it than she was willing to tell. Instead, she backed the SUV into the spot closest to the front walkway. “Wait till you see the inside. Kevin’s been helping me renovate. Some of the stuff he’s installed is just so cool.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Kevin’s background has given him access to all the best toys. Besides which, he works in IT when he isn’t running around being a soldier of fortune. He’s a serious geek with major skills in all sorts of areas.
We wrangled the slab of glass from the back with me holding most of the weight. Emma set down her end of the mirror and pressed her palm against a recessed reader. When a button flashed green, she typed a five-digit code onto the keypad. I heard the click of the locks opening.
She pushed the door open, and we carried the mirror inside and set it down in the entryway. I took another step, into Emma’s new private domain.
It was gorgeous. The décor was the perfect marriage of tech and classic design. All but one of the stained-glass windows had been replaced with frosted, so the open main area shone with light. The remaining stained-glass pane sent patterns of color across planked wood floors that were beautifully rustic. It felt wonderful; peaceful, positive energy just seemed to emanate from the place.
“Oh, Emma.” The intonation of my words made her smile broaden.
“You like it?” she asked eagerly, practically hopping from foot to foot with excitement.
All I could do was make an incredulous noise and nod. I finally found my voice as my eyes danced over the detailed architecture around the top of the wall. “Are you kidding? I love it. Give me the tour.”
The more she showed me around, the stranger something seemed. Everywhere she mentioned a wall had been repaired or damaged door frame had been replaced, I noticed a particular pattern to the placement of the nails. Finally, I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer. “Is Kevin the only person who’s been helping you with the renovation?”
She blushed and turned away. It was a simple question and had she simply answered it, I wouldn’t have thought any more about it. But her reaction made it clear to me that she was getting construction help from Matteo DeLuca, one of Bruno’s brothers. He’s a Catholic priest and my guess was that he’d helped her find the church in the first place. He’s performed both of my exorcisms, so he would understand why it was important that Emma be on holy ground.
He had also helped Bruno and me work on my beach house after a spell went awry and damaged the floor. I’d noticed that he put in the nails in a slightly zigzag pattern that he swore he’d learned from an old book. He said that old houses stood so long because the nails weren’t hammered in right in a row so they never split the planks. The pattern was very distinctive and easily recognizable.
But it was her reaction that I found even more interesting. It gave her away and was the reason why she couldn’t answer me directly. If Matty was in regular orders, his helping her wouldn’t be a problem. Regular priests are able to have relationships and get married. But the militant orders have always required vows of celibacy.…
“You are kidding! You and Matty? O-M-G!”
Her red cheeks remained. “We haven’t told anyone yet. They can’t approve his transfer to regular duty until after he becomes Bishop. Until then…”
“He has to remain celibate,” I finished for her. “Bummer.”
“Actually, it’s okay.” She smiled and it lit up her face. Oh, she was so gone for this guy. It made me happy. Matty is a great guy. But oh Lord, Mama DeLuca would have a fit. Emma’s no more her idea of the perfect daughter-in-law than I am, and Isabella DeLuca is a force to be reckoned with.
I raised my brows, not speaking my concerns. But she just continued to smile.
“Really. He’s worth the wait. Besides, it’s given us the chance to get to know each other better, to not rush into anything. Between him and Bruno, I’ve heard so much about the family that I feel like I’ll be able to recognize everyone once we meet.”
If she was happy, I was happy for her. But it felt a litt
le weird that everyone was so happy when I was so … well, miserable. Why couldn’t I be happy with what I had?
All told, my visit with Emma was exactly what I needed after the stress of the day. She was so content and the house gave off such good vibes that I felt completely relaxed and at peace with the world as we drove back to campus.
I should’ve known it wouldn’t last.
6
“Have fun tonight,” Emma teased as I climbed out of the SUV near La Cocina. I was going to retrieve my car and head for Bruno’s, and Emma was going back to the office. She hadn’t bothered to pull into the restaurant’s parking lot—it was practically bumper-to-bumper in there and there was no reason for her to waste time to get me a few feet closer to my car.
“Oh, I fully intend to.” My answering grin was probably a little bit wicked. I was really looking forward to an evening with Bruno. And if that went well, I was looking forward to an excellent night with Bruno. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
I opened my parasol as I got out of the car, then slammed the door and went around the front of the vehicle to cross the street. I had been well trained in my youth; now I looked both ways, then took advantage of a break in traffic to start across the busy street.
I heard an engine revving and the squeal of tires, and smelled rubber burning against hot asphalt. Even though I couldn’t see the car’s grille past the parasol that kept the sun from scorching my skin, thankfully my vampire reflexes had kicked in at the first growl of the motor. I dove for the far curb with everything I had. Normally that would be enough, since I can jump really fast and far with my enhanced muscles and most drivers steer away from people in the middle of the street.
But this guy corrected, making it very clear it was intentional. My body was still airborne when the car hit me—probably the only reason I wasn’t badly hurt. I landed on the hood and rolled off past the driver’s side window, catching a glimpse of the man at the wheel before falling to the street. The vehicle sped off.