Natural if you’re a bird or an elephant.
“Leda, Greer and I haven’t done that.” I shook my head. “I swear.” There was an awkward encounter a few months earlier, the night I found out Ava was still alive. Greer and I came about as close as two people could to consummating our relationship, but we stopped before it went too far. If we cross that line, the choice to stay or go will no longer be yours to make. That’s what he said to me that night before he walked out the door and disappeared for a week.
“What makes you think it’s me? Greer’s a real catch. I’m sure he has women crawling all over him at the club. Ever think about that?”
The cocky smile on her face was beginning to annoy me. “We’re not blind, Alex. It’s going to takes a pretty special female to hook Greer Sinclair. Even I couldn’t trigger him.”
“Maybe it’s like the Immaculate Conception,” I offered weakly. “Without the baby.”
Her smile faded. I was seeing a hint of the Leda who only came out when provoked, the scary Leda who could send thoughts and images through your mind that should never be seen.
“Look, Alex, I really don’t care who you’re fucking. I just need to know if it’s Greer.”
I shook my head as the emotions began to swell behind my eyes. Something was happening to me, and I had no idea what it was or how to manage it. I’d already lost an entire day, gone on a strange vision quest where I was apparently a predator, and now the woman I thought was my friend was looking at me like she wanted to torture a lie out of me.
“Oh, honey.” She leaned in and touched my arm. “You’re telling me the truth, aren’t you?”
I thought it best to nod since words would probably turn me into a sobbing mess.
“Are you sure you haven’t forgotten something?”
“Are you kidding me? You think I could forget about sleeping with someone…while I’m sober? With Greer?”
“I don’t know, Alex. There would be signs, though. Has he been overly attentive toward you? Is he trying to shove food in your mouth all the time? Or take care of you in other smothering ways? Jealously toward other men?”
I thought about the enormous lunch I came home to yesterday. It was a little over the top, but Sophia seemed more upset than he was when I refused to eat it. And as far as being protective, well, that was normal for Greer. It was a constant battle between us.
I shook my head. “No. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “I guess I need to have a conversation with Mr. Sinclair.”
TWENTY-ONE
Leda ate her lunch while I pushed chunks of king salmon around my plate. It looked appealing enough, but the conversation had dulled my usually insatiable appetite.
We said our goodbyes to William and left the restaurant, Leda heading back to wherever it was she spent her days, while I made my way back to work. Seeing how I’d already come close to losing my job, I had no choice but to go back to Shakespeare’s Library and finish out the day.
Katie was on the floor huddled over a pile of books with her back to me. She was wearing a see-through blouse over a tank top. As she breathed, her tattoo seemed to come alive like a stirring animal shifting in its sleep. It looked alive because it was alive. I’d seen it with my own two eyes morph into a formidable creature, and then recede back into a canvas of black ink with a girl under it.
“Are you going to ask or just stare?” She continued sorting without turning around.
“Ask what?”
She stood up and dropped a stack of books on the library table. “If I’m planning to buy a box of razor blades on my way home from work.”
“Don’t be absurd,” I scoffed. “There’s a perfectly good bridge across town.”
We stared at each other in consideration of whether the exchange was humorous or tragic, and then we both began to laugh uncontrollably. Katie snorted while I nearly cried. We let the laughter run its course, and then we both sat on the floor and finished sorting through the books.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
She absently thumbed the edge of the book in her hand, pinning me with her unreal blue eyes. “I’m a fucking dragon, Alex. We have pretty thick skin.”
“And if he walks away but refuses to release you? Then what?”
“He wouldn’t do that to me.”
I said nothing as the delusion fortified behind her eyes. The delusion that after a grand total of four days, the two of them had developed a bond that included diplomacy upon breakup.
“He wouldn’t,” she repeated with a resolute shake of her head.
I let it go and decide to take it up with the man himself. Constantine wasn’t your average guy, but Katie wasn’t exactly average either. Perhaps his skills weren’t as effective on her dragon, and she’d come out of this unscathed.
We heard something fall from the shelf a couple of aisles down. When we got there, Erica was on the floor with the stepladder lying sideways next to her.
“Are you okay?” I asked, helping her off the floor.
Erica looked at the two of us as if she’d just committed a cardinal sin, a flush of red spreading across her face from embarrassment. “I’m such a klutz.”
“No, you’re just a girl who fell off a lad—”
Katie looked at me as my face went still. “Alex? What’s wrong?”
I inhaled through my nose and waited for the distinct scent to return. “Can you smell that?”
Katie sniffed the air. “Incense?”
“Yeah, I thought it was an interesting cologne when I smelled him,” Erica added.
“Him?” I practically pressed the poor girl against the opposite shelf. “Who’s him?”
“The guy who came in this afternoon. Said he was just looking.” A demure smile crept across her face. “He was good-looking.”
“Sandalwood…or cedar.” Katie sniffed the air again. “Yep, that’s what it smells like.”
“Did he tell you his name?”
Erica shook her head as the smile vanished from her face. “Was I supposed to ask?”
“Of course not,” Katie sniped. “Alex, give the girl some space.”
“Sorry.” I stepped back and gave Erica some breathing room. “What did he look like?”
Her smile returned. “Like I said, he was good-looking. Hot. Tall with brown hair and eyes. There was something really confident about him.”
“Did he buy anything?”
She shook her head. “I kind of got the impression he was looking for someone. He kept walking around the room and looking down each aisle.”
“Then what?”
“He left. I got busy with another customer. When I looked back up, he was gone.”
Katie’s brow went up. “You know this guy, Alex?”
The morning Lumen came into the shop, I told Katie about the attack in Central Park, minus the part about him being a demented minion of an organized group of rapists who stole children. I figured those details were a little too much, too soon. But that was before I knew her secret. Erica—on the other hand—would not be privy to any of it.
“I think he’s a guy who’s been stalking me.”
Erica’s eyes widened. “Should we call the police?”
“No. He seems harmless. Just creeps me out a little bit.”
Katie eyed me suspiciously. “I told you about him,” I reminded her. “He’s the guy from the park.”
It took her a minute, but she eventually connected the dots. Her eyes widened, too. “Jesus, Alex. Maybe we should call the cops.”
“You met him in the park?” Erica’s face brightened with some romantic notion.
“Something like that.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
Katie reluctantly dropped the subject and we spent the next few hours staring at the clock. She couldn’t wait to get home to see Constantine, while I prepared to face the man who may have imprinted on me like a newly hatched duckling.
“I’d say it’s nice to see you, Rhom, but every time you show up unexpectedly I get bad news.”
“Such a pessimist, Alex.” He tucked his copy of the New York Post under his arm and lifted off the side of the building. “Greer’s just a little jumpy today. He’s worried about you. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Fine. Thanks for the backup.”
We took our time walking home. The weather was near perfect, and Rhom was wearing a pair of shades to block the late afternoon sun. I lifted them from his face to check his eyes. After my encounter with his imposter, I had a feeling I’d be doing that every time he wore them.
“What’s this all about?” he questioned as I lowered them back to the bridge of his nose.
I told him about his imposter, and I thought I saw steam piping from his ears like some cartoon character.
“I’ll rip the bastard in half when I find him,” he promised.
“It okay, Rhom. I chased the bad man away. You’ll just have to get used to me doing that for a while.”
“I’m still going to track him down and make him regret it.”
If I’d had Greer or Thomas in my head at the time, it would have been one of them the imposter embodied, and their homicidal reaction would be the same.
“Thanks, Rhom. I feel much safer now.”
“No problem.”
“Is Greer at the house?”
“Yeah. He’s at the house, Alex.” His head bobbed up and down like it usually did when his softer side came out. “But you got nothing to worry about. The boss is right as rain today.”
It was an odd comment, like he was delivering me somewhere unpleasant, but for my own good. I felt like a five-year-old getting dropped off for my first day at kindergarten, and Rhom would be waiting at the end of the day with a lollipop and a hug when it was over.
When we got to the foot of the steps, my stomach felt like a hornet’s nest. The closer I got to Greer, the bigger the swarm grew, until my hand shook on the stair rail.
“Are you okay, Alex?” His voice was sweet now. “You got nothing to fear up there.” He motioned toward the front door with a flick of his head as a grin spread across his face.
“Aren’t you coming in?” I asked when he stopped at the foot of the stairs.
“I’ll be up in a minute. I’ll let you and the boss have a little privacy first.” His grin widened, and I realized he knew. They all did. Every last one of Greer’s people must have noticed the change that Leda had seen.
I walked up the steps feeling like some sacrificial lamb being offered up to a hungry lion. The smell of tomatoes and basil filled the foyer as I walked inside. Sophia. I was thankful to have her there as a buffer.
The sound of water running, and the clanking of metal on metal, melded with the quiet singing coming from the kitchen. I peeked inside and watched Sophia battle with a head of garlic on the cutting board. Her palm came down hard on the bulb, and it split into a dozen small cloves.
Something soft brushed my legs, distracting me from the lesson in garlic execution. Bear wound his small body around my ankles and then jumped. He was too little to make it past my thighs, so I caught him in mid-flight and nuzzled him against my chest as he purred like a miniature motorboat.
“You’re growing too fast.” I was surprised at how big he’d gotten in just a week. “Stop doing that.”
I put him back down and looked at Sophia who was watching me now. She grabbed a large knife from the magnetic strip on the wall and whacked one of the cloves, sending the husky skin flying across the kitchen. “You going to be nice to Mr. Sinclair today?”
“Sophia!”
“Don’t you Sophia me, Miss Alex.” She pointed the tip of the knife in my direction. “That man put a beautiful roof over your head and feeds you. A lot of women come through this house, and he don’t do that for any of them.” She nodded firmly before continuing her assault on the garlic.
“Alex.” Greer was standing behind me when I turned. He was still wearing his suit, so I assumed he’d gotten home just before me. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I turned to Rhom, who had come inside and was sitting in the living room. “Rhom, would you like to join us? I’m sure Sophia is making enough to feed a small army.”
He looked to Greer for approval. Sophia’s Italian food was a religious experience, and like most men, Rhom never refused an offer for good grub.
“He’ll be staying,” Greer announced. “We’re having a little dinner party tonight.”
By seven thirty, the house was buzzing with people, mediating the awkward tension between Greer and me. Thomas and Loden arrived first, and Leda showed up a few minutes later.
Greer described the impromptu gathering as a “working dinner” and reminded everyone that we still had a monster of a job to do in finding the vessel. Even Morgan—the faerie wannabe—walked through the door. I hadn’t seen her in months since she worked so hard to assert her claim on Greer, and I’d hoped to never see her again.
At eight o’clock sharp the doorbell rang. I looked at Greer who seemed unsurprised by the sound.
“Now that our final guest has arrived, we can eat.” He opened the door and Dr. David Oxford stood on the other side.
“I wasn’t sure what we were having, so I gambled on a red.” Oxford handed Greer a bottle of Bordeaux and walked into the room.
“Dr. Oxford!” I was surprised and a little wary to see him standing in front of me. His hair had been trimmed since we’d met, but the wiry curls jetting from his ears remained untamed. “What brings you to the city?”
Greer headed for the dining room before the doctor could answer. “Let’s eat, folks,” he announced as he led the way. He waited for his guests to be seated, and then took his place at the table, watching me unabashedly as I squirmed under his intense stare.
Sophia entered the room with a large roasting pan and placed it in the middle of the table. “Mangia! Mangia!” she beamed with a look of pride stamped over her face. The room erupted in celebratory praise for the beautiful rows of eggplant and pasta stuffed with cheese and topped with fresh tomatoes and basil.
Thomas stood and grabbed her around the waist, placing his usual flirty kiss on her cheek as she swatted him away.
Greer motioned for my plate, piling it with more food than I could possibly eat. Then he proceeded to serve the rest of his guests before serving himself.
Thomas was the first to ask. “So, boss. I’m assuming there’s a motive behind the invite.”
Greer finished chewing the bite of food in his mouth, then chased it with a sip of wine. “Dr. Oxford, would you like to tell everyone why you’re here?”
All eyes turned to David Oxford. A flush of pink crawled across his face as he cleared his throat, and it dawned on me that the doctor was shy. Scientists were often introverts, and he was obviously caught off guard when Greer asked him to lead the discussion.
“Well, as I explained to Mr. Sinclair, I received an interesting call yesterday afternoon.” He took another bite of pasta and held his finger up while he quickly chewed and swallowed it. “Apparently, Ms. Falcone has become privy to some information and needs my help.”
“What kind of help?” I asked warily.
“She claims to have a lead on the approximate location of the vessel. The problem is she can’t see it. She needs the lenses I’ve been working on.”
“I guess you never sent that letter. The one where you clearly told her to keep her money.”
“Oh, I sent it all right. I can thank you for that, Ms. Kelley. It was you who motivated me to go to the market and buy stamps the next day.”
Greer leaned into the table to focus the conversation before the doctor veered off on a tangent. “Tell me exactly what Isabetta said.”
“Yes, of course. She said,
‘Dr. Oxford. This is Isabetta Falcone.’ And I said ‘I know who you are because your name is showing up on my phone.’ You see, I have her entered in my phone contacts and—”
“Maybe you should just summarize what was discussed,” Greer interjected.
“The bottom line is that Ms. Falcone claims to know where the vessel is, and she wants me to meet her tomorrow night to see if we can locate it with the lenses.”
“You didn’t tell her they’re in your eyes, did you?” I asked with concern.
“What the hell?” Thomas, who was sitting next to Oxford, took the man’s chin and looked into his eyes. “No shit.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a smart motherfucker.”
Oxford gave Thomas a puzzled look. “Is that’s a compliment?”
“I assume you told her you’ve changed your mind about the offer and agreed to meet her?” Greer asked.
Oxford went mute as he looked around the room at the seven faces staring back at him. Even Sophia stood in the doorway hanging on his words.
“Dr. Oxford? What did you tell her?” Greer asked again.
I sensed the panic rolling over the doctor’s face as he contemplated his answer. “There’s no right or wrong answer, David,” I coaxed, hoping the informal use of his first name would help put him at ease. “We can fix this.”
He took a deep sip of wine. “I asked her where and what time.”
The entire table—except for me—took a collective sigh of relief as the million-dollar question was answered. A meeting with Isabetta Falcone meant a meeting with Alasdair Templeton. Vessel or not, I feared that letting him near me again was the gateway to my deportation to the Emerald Isle.
Greer was studying me when I looked at him. He knew what was going through my head, and it must have been the catalyst for his next words.
“Alex, you’re not going. We can always bring the mountain to Mohammed, if necessary.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m going.” It was a thoughtful gesture, but who were we kidding? Aside from David Oxford, I was the one person who needed to be there if the vessel was found. “If Templeton is there—”
The Blood Thief (The Fitheach Trilogy Book 2) Page 20