by Mina Carter
By the time she fetched her handbag from the backseat, he had exited the silver Porsche and opened her door. “Wow! You’re fast.” Chaz’s knees quivered. He looked so damn good in his tight jeans and leather jacket. The sun’s rays illuminated the blackness of his thick silky waves of hair and his blue eyes glittered with a tease.
“Enjoy yer lunch, Chazma?”
A hint of irritation rode behind the words. Why? She had put in enough time that morning to warrant an hour’s lunch. “Yes, thanks.”
“Inspector Tom made good on his promise to catch up where he left off, I see.”
Chaz now understood. “Yes.”
“And did ye find him a pleasant companion?”
She stopped and turned to look up at his face. Her brows were drawn together and she couldn’t stop herself. “Is something wrong? Don’t you like Tom?”
He pulled open the front door. “I have known Tom most of m’life and while I wouldn’t quite call him a friend, I wouldn’t quite call him an enemy either. So the answer is aye, I like him well enough.”
“What would you call him, if not friend or foe?”
“The question should be, what would ye call him?”
Chaz laughed and answered glibly. “I don’t know him long enough or well enough to call him more than an acquaintance.”
She entered the central hall and her cell phone rang again. It was James changing the time of their dinner as he had an emergency patient he had to squeeze in.
Jethro watched her face as she said, “I’ll be there at 7:30, Dr. James, but I warn you, I will be starving by then and may eat everything on the menu.”
She put away her cell phone and looked up to find McBain quirking a black brow at her. “It seems ye have been a busy girl in the short time you have been in Ireland.”
“That’s me, busy, busy.” Chaz refused to give anything away. What was up with his attitude?
“Ah, do I overstep?” he frowned. “Just that…ye taking the jeep…”
Dismay hit her for a second, before she recouped. “No…of course not. It’s just stupid me, I hadn’t realized you might need the jeep.”
He waved off her comment irritably and responded, “I told ye the jeep is yers during your stay with us, but…”
“But?” she interrupted him.
“When I take a lady out to dinner, I pick her up and see her home safely.”
“Well, it is only a short ride to Dunglebury.”
“Nevertheless, ye will be driving by yerself at night on yer return trip home, and just now, it isn’t safe for young women to be out alone late at night.”
“Isn’t it?” Chaz feigned ignorance. She wanted to know what he would say. “And why not, Jethro McBain?”
His eyes shimmered blue ice. “Don’t play me for a fool, Chaz—we both know that ye know the answer to that.”
“Ah, so then—if you believe I know the answer to that, you obviously think I am up to snuff, and therefore being up to snuff also means I can take care of myself.”
“So ye think,” he snapped.
“So I think.” Her voice was soft and her step determined as she walked off toward the library.
****
His eyes refused to budge from her retreating form. He raked himself because he couldn’t stop watching her. Too often he discovered his eyes were drawn to the beauty of her face, the line of her neck, those breasts with the nipples that called to him and teased him to imagine…
More, there was more—the expression in her green eyes. The curve of her full luscious lips, the sound of her laugh—her voice...damn!
He wanted her. He got a hard-on every single time he looked at her. He adjusted it now in his jeans and cursed under his breath. Earlier, he had been supremely irritated seeing her interact with Tom. The inspector looked all innocent-charmer but he knew the man was a tomcat with women. Tom Murphy liked to play—and from what he had heard, the man wasn’t concerned with breaking a heart or two. Tom Murphy loved his work first and then his women.
The question remained, what did Inspector Tom want with Chazma Donnelly? Was it the obvious? What would any man want with her? She was the most innocent temptress he had ever encountered. Something about her that grabbed a man and made him want, no—the word was need, made him need her, all of her beneath him, on top of him, beside him…hell, he wanted her every way a man could.
Dangerous lass.
Yes, but Tom Murphy had something else on his mind. Just what did he know? What was he trying to find out and how much would Chazma Donnelly actually tell him?
Jethro’s grandmother had wrung her hands when he had visited her earlier that morning. She was worried. She had said she had never experienced anything like the mana Chazma radiated. She had clutched at him. “Jet…things have changed inside of her. I don’t know how she managed to contain the wicked darkness she carries. It wants out more than ever. I thought we could take her within our fold and release it in small doses.” She had shaken her head. “We can’t, Jethro. It is too strong. She is the only one who can manage it but I don’t know how she will, or what she will become.”
“She will be who she is.” He kissed his grandmother’s forehead. He had never encountered a woman like Chazma Donnelly. She had strength of purpose that drove her, but everything she wanted was gilded with glowing decency. He had no doubts about her whatsoever.
Dunboyne was another matter. He knew very little about the new doctor and his sudden appearance in town gave Jethro pause, and pushed his suspicion button.
He bumped into old doc only last week, and had taken him by the shoulders to give him an affectionate squeeze. “What is this about you retiring? I don’t believe it! Not you, not yet.”
John McGraw had scratched his head beneath his thick clumps of white hair and regarded him strangely. “That’s the thing, Jet…I am as surprised as you about my decision to semi-retire. I woke up one morning after a fitful sleep, and had a sudden urge to close up shop. And there was this letter from young Dunboyne. I couldn’t resist calling him, telling him to come on down so we could talk.” He scratched his head again and shook his head. “Next thing I knew it was a done deal. Couldn’t desert my patients, so taking him on seemed the right thing to do at the time.”
“And now?”
“And now…I don’t know.”
That had troubled Jethro, but John McGraw was getting on in years and Dunboyne had not in the interim given him any reason to doubt his purpose in Dunglebury. However, something about the whole thing felt off, and he damn well was going to get to the bottom of it before Chazma Donnelly got any more involved with the bloody fellow.
And there was Mulrone.
Every single time he felt something was off, he felt a twinge of Mulrone disturb him. The McBain and Mulrone families had been at odds for centuries. They had reason way beyond the obvious. McBains held that the Mulrone name was synonymous with treachery. They had proof, but not the kind that would hold up in court.
Was Dunboyne here because of Mulrone? It was possible. Mulrone had always hated old Doc. Or was it something else altogether? Jethro’s suspicions increased every minute.
****
Chaz found James Dunboyne’s cottage on the outskirts of town with very little trouble. His directions had been perfect. She got out of the jeep and smoothed the silk of her black dress. It hugged her body in all the right places and she was pleased with the result. Chilled by the evening air, she hurriedly slipped into the pretty black-and-white beaded cardigan she had brought along, happy to have it. Maybe she should have brought something warmer.
James was already coming out his front door, closing it behind himself and taking the flagstone walkway in hurried wide strides. Her eyebrows rose with surprise. She had thought he might invite her in for a moment, and had in fact hoped that he wouldn’t, but contrarily now that he was ushering her off, she felt a tickle of unease. Despite her hunger and lack of desire to tour his cottage, the situation struck her as odd.
She s
hrugged it off, telling herself she was just being stupid. He knew she was hungry and would show her his home when they got back for her car. While the style of his cottage was small and charming from the exterior, something about it seemed cold.
Dismissing her fanciful thoughts, her stomach rumbled and for the tenth time in ten minutes and she wished she had popped a biscuit in her mouth before she had left Brionn.
“I know you are starving, but it isn’t my fault. I probably should have cancelled.” Impatient, he took her arm and walked her to her jeep. “You can just follow me. Panders’ Inn is basically on your way home.” He allowed her a quick smile before he led her to her car.
Astonishment coursed through Chaz as she regarded him with eyes round with shock. His tone of voice had a level of agitation she had not heard before. She assumed they would ride over to the inn together. She wasn’t interested in dating, but everything thus far rubbed her wrong.
“Oh. Sure…fine.” Chaz tried to force a smile, but none came. Jethro had hit a nerve earlier when he had said that he would pick a lady up at her home and make certain he got her back safely. She had often met her friends for an evening out, but not on lonely roads, and not with a monster roaming about tearing woman apart. James didn’t know she was a witch quite able to take care of herself. Thus, for a moment, her notion of him took a slap.
Okay, whether he drove her to and from the restaurant didn’t really matter. He would lead the way. And still, she felt something was off. He wasn’t the flirtatious beau trying to boost his standing with the girl. He acted as though he were doing a chore.
There was a cool aloofness to the doctor’s demeanor. He was a completely different man. Romancing her no longer seemed to interest him, which, while setting her at ease, also throttled her sense of self. What did he want with her then? He hadn’t even glanced at her. Incongruously, she thought of Jethro and how he looked at her, all the time. Jethro made her feel exquisitely beautiful. Her body tingled with anticipation at his slightest glance. When she had gotten dressed this evening, she had hoped Jethro would be around to see her. He wasn’t.
Why was Jethro constantly in her thoughts? He was everything she shouldn’t want. She held no doubts he was an extreme player with women up the kazoo. Darkly mysterious, his presence meant danger, especially to a heart like hers. A man like that could get into your soul, steal it, and never give it back, even as he walked away.
He had style, he had primal sexual appeal, he…oh no, this just wouldn’t do. She scowled and determined to find a way of keeping him out of her mind.
As James hustled her into her car and left her to jump into his small blue van, Chaz frowned. Who was this guy? He sure wasn’t the solicitous gentleman she had met earlier. Was his problem that he was just coming down after a busy day? That was it of course. She shook her head. Idiot.
Everything must be out of whack for James Dunboyne now that he was the coroner of record on the local serial killings. Beth had mentioned it earlier that evening. She should have made the connection before. After all, he was the only doctor in the area, so it stood to reason he would receive the bodies of those poor women.
Chaz put her jeep into gear and followed as the doctor pulled out. She noted that he did not look into his rearview mirror. He drove along and simply expected her to follow. Irritated, her brows drew together and her eyes narrowed. He must have something on his mind. Her instincts warred with her desire to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Tamping down the warning her gut whispered, curiosity drove her on. Maybe she was just making too much of this, or maybe not?
A few moments later she pulled in beside his van in the parking lot of a charming little restaurant ablaze with an array of small sparkling lights placed throughout the surrounding gardens. A closer look revealed the lights illuminated a path through the garden as well.
Dunboyne came over to give her his hand as she got out of the jeep and she glanced at the enchanting landscaping. “How pretty.”
“Not as pretty as you, Chaz.” He smiled broadly and held her hand high and made her spin around. “You look sensational.”
“Aha!” she teased. “And here I thought you hadn’t noticed my new dress. It was a gift from my grandmother just before I left for Ireland.”
His hazel eyes sparkled with masculine appreciation. “My thanks to your grandmother.”
Chaz fleetingly discovered doubt buzzing through her brain. Here was the James Dunboyne she met earlier, and yet, just now everything he had said felt forced and insincere.
“Thanks, Doc. Now feed me.” Chaz put on a smile she didn’t quite feel.
“Your wish—my command.” He took her hand and led her inside.
Chapter Ten
DINNER HAD BEEN pleasant enough so far. Dunboyne wore a sweet, confide-in-me bedside manner but she couldn’t shake the feeling he had a hidden agenda. He had fisted his hands on the dinner table and insisted, “Chazma, you have only been in Ireland about a week, but you must have felt it?”
She eyed him doubtfully, not sure what he meant. “Felt it?”
“The magic, Chazma—I know you feel the magic all around you.” His eyes shone, unsettlingly bright.
Double meaning, she told herself, he could be asking if she had fallen in love with Ireland’s mystical beauty. People always talked about Ireland’s magic. They didn’t really mean sorcery, leprechauns, and witches. She answered him carefully. “Well, sure. Ireland is filled with the mystery of the past—the fairy mounds, the castles, the Blarney Stone…”
“That is not quite what I mean.” His face scrunched with irritation, and his voice was rough with impatience.
Chaz’s brow arched. She answered him on an edgy, cold note. “No?”
His lips curved. “Chaz, I am certain you must wonder about things that take one beyond the imagination.”
“What makes you think I have, in my short time here, found anything beyond the imagination?” She wanted this to stop, but she also wanted to know what he was getting at.
“Living at Brionn, you must have noticed something out of the ordinary.”
“Like what?”
“I couldn’t say, but there have always been rumors about the McBains of Brionn.”
“What sort of rumors?” Chaz never gave away anything if she didn’t have to.
“It has been said that the dowager has always had an avid interest in sorcery and that she is actually mistress of a coven.”
Chaz laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “I don’t deal in rumors. Do you?”
He paused and as his eyes flickered over her face, he abruptly changed the subject. “I’m a deep-seated Irish man, but of course, I don’t believe in such things. Tell me, how does your work progress in the library?”
Frowning, she shook her head as she gave him a brief response. She played with her food a moment before eating and he used that moment to ask lightly if she had noticed any of the ancient treasures reputed to be at Brionn.
Well, that was getting to Brionn through a backdoor, wasn’t it, Chaz thought with narrowed eyes. Caution governed her. “Lots of antiques all through the house, but after all, the house goes back centuries, doesn’t it?” Something about the good doc seemed very different this evening? No doubt, he had a great deal on his mind.
“Aye, it does and I have heard tell it holds one or two Fae Hallows as well.”
“Fae Hallows?”
“Aye,” the doctor confirmed.
Ah, of course. He was a believer in the Tuatha Dé. Chaz feigned ignorance and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know what any of those relics would even look like.”
“Ye would feel it…or so they say.” His brogue deepened.
Chaz laughed this off. As he paid the check, she started to get up, saying with disinterest, “I have always wondered whom these all-knowing ‘they’ are.”
Dinner conversation felt stilted after that and she had never been so happy to find an evening at its end.
****
&nbs
p; A scowl crept over her face as she wound her way toward Brionn. James Dunboyne had proved to be an odd contradiction of the personality he portrayed to the world. When they first met he had been solicitous and gentle when he had questioned her about her life back in the States, and yet now none of it felt sincere.
He had been heavy-handed when he dealt out the questions but when she had asked him about his work as the coroner in what the press had dubbed the “mutilation murders,” he responded that he could not comment on the case. She had asked if the garda had any leads and he had been evasive and changed the subject.
His eyes had narrowed. He had looked shifty, anxious, and she had seen a flicker of fear there. Why would he be afraid? Reticent, yes, perhaps he preferred because he couldn’t discuss details, to not speak of it at all, but why not just say so?
He had closed the door on her after he saw her into her jeep and as he bent, she realized he was actually going to try and give her a kiss. She felt a sudden repulsion, and turned to give him her cheek.
He made no objection, did not seem to mind and that alone filled her growing list of oddities about him. Something was going on here and it had nothing to do with any attraction he might or might not have for her.
Chaz pulled out of the parking lot deep in thought and hadn’t gone far when all at once a warning bleep in the recesses of her mind tingled her spine and sent a chill through her blood as a voice which sounded much like her own screamed, “Heads-up.”
She rounded a bend in the road with that inner self-shouting a warning: “Chaz—look out!” She slowed to nearly a stop, but could see nothing. She continued to drive at a crawl when a dark shape lying in the middle of the road made her gasp. Her headlights illuminated the shape of a human body.
Chaz came to a full stop and clutched the steering wheel. She heard the horror in her voice as she screamed, “Oh no…no…”
She positioned the jeep so that the headlights were directed on the body in the road and confirmed what she already knew. It was indeed a woman lying motionless.
Dark X had done this for her to find. The scene shouted at her. She could hear his voice saying, “This is for me. See what I can do?” The bastard wasn’t warning her off: he was showing off.