by Ann Gimpel
Okay. I can do that.
She rolled down her window, peering into the mist. Not seeing any other headlights—or pedestrians—she pulled out carefully and set a course toward the rambling, English Tudor mansion where she lived.
“If you can split your attention, figure out how we can get Tyler out of my house. Permanently.” She tightened her fingers around the steering wheel.
An unpleasant laugh wafted across the car. “It’s not easy to get rid of the gifted. Even if you think he’s gone, he’ll have ways of showing back up. No, Cassie. The only way to eliminate Tyler is to kill him. I fear that’s the sole route to bring Eleanora back too. I didn’t fully understand the stakes here until last night— Uh, I mean until I sensed what was lurking in your lobby.”
“Not a good save.” Cassie was too tired to play games, and she couldn’t wrap her mind around murdering anyone—even Tyler. “What were you going to say about last night? You never told me why you called.”
“Remember your mother’s silver urn?”
“Of course. She could see things in it.”
He took a deep breath. “Well, I can do much the same. I visited your house, in a psychic sense, and found it shrouded in darkness.”
It was Cassie’s turn to steady her breathing. Just tell him, goddammit. “I—When I was talking to Tyler last night, for just a little bit, he looked like a demon.”
“What?” Jeremy’s voice rose, loud in the confines of the car. “Why the hell didn’t you say something last night?”
“Because it seemed too fantastic to be real.”
He made a sound between a snort and a snarl. “You’re Eleanora’s daughter. Didn’t she teach you that nothing is too fantastic to be real? Don’t you see, this could be the link that ties everything together. If that’s what he is, we can exorcise him. I know how to do that.”
“Stop.” She had to force her vocal chords to form words. “Don’t tell me any more.”
He paused a beat. “If you don’t want to discuss exorcising demons, how about this? I don’t think that woman you nearly hit was accidental. About the only thing Tyler wasn’t mixed up in tonight was what happened in the ’combs.”
“That can’t be. Why would he nearly kill me? He’s waiting for me to come home—or not.” Her voice ran down. For a second she felt as if she were strangling and dragged a lungful of air around the thickening in her throat. “I—I can’t even kill spiders. Or the rats in the basement.” Her mind raced. Her skin went from burning hot to freezing cold. “I get it that he’s out to get me. Surely there’s another way to make him go away.”
“Like what?”
Yeah, like what? It’s not that I haven’t tried to get rid of him. He just ignores me.
“Maybe if I filed a complaint with the police...” That sounded weak, even to her. The law could chase Tyler off, but they couldn’t police her house twenty-four-seven. Eleanora was completely vulnerable in her current state. What if Tyler kidnapped her? Or simply murdered them both.
“Cassie,” Jeremy said quietly. “If we don’t kill him, he’ll figure out a way to get rid of you, and Eleanora too. That’s what the trap in your lobby was about. If you were cursed, I’d know it. You’re not.”
“He did tell me last night I might meet with an unfortunate accident and to watch my back.”
“Just another small item you failed to tell me about.” Jeremy’s voice chilled her. He was angry, and probably hurt she hadn’t confided in him. “Dig deep, Cassionetta. I can’t do this alone. I need your help. What else haven’t you told me?”
Her mouth gaped open and closed like a fish suddenly tossed from a pond. It was a monumental struggle to find her voice. “Nothing. I mean, I’ve told you everything now. How are we going to, ah, do away with him?” she choked out. This was a side of Jeremy she’d never seen before, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
“You’ll seduce him and, while he’s busy, I’ll take care of the rest.”
She sniggered as she turned into her driveway. The crazed, razor-sharp edges of her laughter told her just how close she was to losing it entirely.
“What’s so funny?”
“He stopped fucking me quite a while ago. Once he moved in, there were a few token rounds of sex, and then he relocated to the north wing of the ground floor. Said his magic required celibacy, which is a joke since he’s having sex and lots of it. Just not with me. There are hot and cold running women here. One leaves and another shows up.”
“Humph.”
Letting Jeremy think, or whatever he was doing, she hit the remote and the metal-embossed garage door slid upward. Pulling into the well-lighted garage next to her mother’s Aston Martin, Cassie was astonished she’d actually made it home. Between the sinister presence in her lobby, the attack in the catacombs, and the nerve-wracking drive through the fog, she felt frazzled. Never mind her perpetual design failures with e-Ouija and whatever Tyler was plotting.
Crap. I liked it better when I didn’t know as much.
Chapter Five
She’d just pushed her car door open when the door to the house banged against its stops.
“It’s about fucking time,” Tyler growled, his handsome features twisted into something unpleasant. His usual gypsyesque flowing clothing showcased his magnificent body. It was obvious he was in full seduction mode—for someone else.
“It was foggy,” she protested. “I couldn’t go very fast.”
“Ugh! You actually brought that trash home with you?” Tyler peered into the Subaru. “Does he like girls all of a sudden?”
“What if he does?” Out of the car and on her feet, Cassie stared him down. “You don’t seem to. So hey, any port in a storm.”
“You have no idea what I like,” he muttered. “I don’t want you to...” His voice trailed off. “Never mind. I’m taking your mother’s car,” he announced, changing the subject. The keys dangled from one hand.
“Like hell you are.”
Jeremy’s right. Tyler does want it all. He’s had a taste of the high life and now...
Tyler headed for the white Aston Martin coupe with its plush black leather interior.
“If you leave this house with that car,” Cassie spat through clenched teeth, “I will call the police and tell them you stole it.”
That stopped him. Whirling, he turned to stare at her. The daggers in his eyes dissolved seconds after she’d seen them. He carefully smoothed his features. “Cassie, honey,” he began, compulsion in his suddenly-mellifluous voice.
“Nope,” she snapped. “Give.” She held out her hand for the keys. “I mean it. That does not belong to you. In fact, like I told you last night, I want you out of here tomorrow. You don’t get any more tomorrows here after that.”
“You can’t do that.” His face darkened, the honeyed tones forgotten as he threw the keys at her.
“Oh, but I can.” She smiled sweetly, snaking out a hand to catch them. “You have no right here. No blood ties, nothing. You suckered me, Tyler MacKenzie, and the sucker’s game is up.”
“We can talk about this another time. I’m late. Really do need a car. Please, Cass. I know I haven’t been especially attentive here of late, but I’ve just been working so hard. I’ll, uh, come to your room after I get home.” The compulsion was back in his voice, almost like one of the glamours her mother donned from time to time.
Be nice. Jeremy said I have to lure him to my bed somehow...
She raised her eyebrows speculatively. “You still can’t have Mom’s car, but here.” Fishing around in her purse, she pulled out two twenties.
“What’s that for?”
“Cab fare? You said you needed to get somewhere. I’m guessing your car’s broken.”
A dark red swept across his sharp-boned face.
The bastard’s lying. There’s nothing wrong with his VW, and now he’s trapped himself.
Snatching up the bills, he dug his cell phone out of a pocket and pressed a couple of buttons before turning on hi
s heel to stalk out into the night.
“Do we still have a date for later?” she called after him, trying to infuse a seductive undertone into the words.
“If you insist.”
“Don’t forget the condoms.”
“Oh, please. If you make it too much trouble, I’ll skip the whole thing.”
The garage door creaked as it closed. “Brilliant.” Jeremy smiled at her. He handed her purse and computer to her before heading toward the steps leading into the house. He pulled open the door and crooked a finger her way.
Traipsing heavily up the few steps leading to a short hallway, Cassie followed him into the dimly lit kitchen and set her things down. Hector was curled on the countertop purring loudly. His amber eyes shone like beacons in the low light. “Hey there, boy,” she cooed, dipping her fingers into his lush fur and scratching behind his ears.
Hector purred even louder and let out a contented mrroww before jumping down and strolling casually through the glass-beaded curtain leading into the central part of the house. A discontented squawk from Murietta, likely on her perch in the library, told Cassie the cat was probably engaging in some gratuitous bird-baiting, a sport he never tired of.
“Mind if I make a snack?” Jeremy stared inside the large stainless steel refrigerator.
“You’re hungry?” she asked incredulously. “How the hell can you even think about food after talking about murder?”
“It’s not like it was in the same sentence,” he pointed out, balancing a hunk of cheese, a bottle of mayonnaise, and a loaf of whole wheat bread. He backed away from the fridge, shoving the door shut.
“Eat,” she motioned wearily, picking up her purse and computer. “I’m going to take a shower and put something else on. I smell like the bums in the catacombs.”
****
Jeremy slapped a sandwich together. When he looked at the final product, he was surprised the cheese was actually between the slices of bread because his mind was running a million miles an hour. While it had been excruciatingly difficult, the previous night had given him exactly the break he’d been looking for. If the goddess was good to him, soon Tyler would no longer be a problem.
Although he was almost too keyed up to eat, he had to. He’d drained his magic almost down to bedrock the night before. Rescuing Cassie from the bums in the catacombs hadn’t helped. Running on adrenaline and no sleep, he forced himself to chew and swallow, but it was impossible to quiet his thoughts.
Jeremy supported his head on an upraised hand and closed his eyes, emotions close to the surface. He wasn’t that attached to his own life, but if he’d died last night, Cassie and her mother would’ve suffered the consequences. Eleanora was helpless, snared in a border world by fae magic, and Cassie didn’t have power of her own to solve the problem.
Jeremy unclenched his jaw and looked at his half eaten sandwich. He took another bite, chewing mechanically. The Irichna’s song still teased, right at the edges of consciousness. He had to banish it. He’d need as close to his full power as he could summon before tonight was over. Food would help.
He sank back into his thoughts. Hector stalked over, licking the edge of the plate. Apparently the cat had sensed his inattention and closed in for scraps. Jeremy realized he’d finished his sandwich.
“Here you go, bud.” He handed some cheese slivers to the cat.
Jeremy carted his plate to the sink and wadded up his napkin, throwing it in the trash. That done, he opened cupboards until he found what he knew had to be there: Eleanora’s stash of herbs and medicinals. It wasn’t hard to locate what he needed. Catspaw, marigold, and deer antler went into the mortar and pestle. He tapped the powder into a glass, added water, and drank it to replenish his magic.
He took care with the next items: belladonna, monkshood, foxglove, yew, and the tiniest shaving of hemlock. They wouldn’t kill Tyler, but they’d make him more vulnerable to Jeremy’s magic. Anticipation zinged through him. He’d hated Tyler from the first moment he met him. And not just because he was bedding Cassie. Something about the man always rang false. Whether he was only fae or one of the fae pimping themselves to the Irichna didn’t matter.
“I’m going to kill that bastard. No matter what it takes.” He slammed a fist into his thigh, gathered the herbs in a paper bindle, and then headed for the library. The parrot was kicking up a fuss, and he figured Eleanora might be there.
Chapter Six
After leaving Jeremy in the kitchen, Cassie plodded past carved oak wainscoting, Oriental rugs, shiny hardwood floors, and the fine paintings and sculptures her mother had cherished. She was struck by a bone-deep loneliness. Worry for her mother consumed her.
She stepped into the library for long enough to offer Murietta a handful of seeds. The large bird ruffled her feathers as she pecked at Cassie’s hand. When she turned to leave the room full of bookshelves overflowing with magic-related source materials, the bird piped up, “Careful, child. Careful, awk.”
Spinning sharply to eye the bird that had suddenly sounded a lot like her mother, Cassie hunted for something—anything—that might’ve spawned the bird’s proclamation. Murietta chewed blissfully on a sunflower seed and stared at Cassie as if to inquire, What?
“Aw, what could she possibly know?” Cassie muttered.
Partway up the long, front staircase, she heard, “More than you imagine child, awk.”
Cassie dropped her bag and computer case and sprinted back down the stairs. Face to face with Murietta, she stroked her soft feathers, searching for clues. “Mother?”
“Silly girl. Silly girl, awk.” Reaching out with her beak, the bird rubbed it against Cassie’s fingers. Her avian eyes looked, well, birdlike, and Cassie felt oddly disappointed.
It’s just that I miss Mom so much I’m imagining things...
Dispiritedly, she turned away from the now-silent parrot and made her way back up the stairs, collecting her things from the landing.
Cassionetta unlocked the deadbolt and let herself into her room. She looked around for Hector, but the cat hadn’t followed her.
“Phooey.” She blew out air between pursed lips and tossed her purse and computer bag on a small sofa tucked beneath a dormer window. Reaching inside the shoulder bag, she pulled out her ruined top, gingerly clasped it between thumb and forefinger, and carried it to a wastebasket. Her bed was just like she’d left it: unmade, coverlet hanging on the floor.
The heavy four-poster took up half the floor space in the room, but she’d always loved the flamboyant old cherry wood frame adorned with nymphs, satyrs, and garlands of intricately carved flowers. A matching dresser, two nightstands, and old-fashioned hand-painted lamps completed the room she’d inhabited since she was old enough to sleep by herself. Kicking off her high-heeled boots, still soaked with questionable fluids from her trip through the catacombs, she dumped her three-quarter length skirt and teal sweater on a chair. The jacket was still pretty wet, so she hung it over a hook in the closet.
Raising both hands over her head, she twisted her body from side to side in a futile attempt to get the kinks out. It didn’t work. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the dresser and groaned.
Shit, I look anorexic.
She vowed to eat more regularly and padded toward the claw foot tub in the adjoining bathroom where she flipped on the hot tap. It took so long for warm water to make its way from the inner workings of the huge house, she rarely needed to mix in any cold.
She stood under the handheld shower spray letting first lukewarm, then hotter, water sluice over her, as she scrubbed her hair and body with lavender-scented shampoo and soap. Even though she still didn’t feel quite clean, she finally shut the water off and stepped from the tub. She didn’t want to take the time to dry her hair, so she wrapped her head in a towel. The tile floor was chilly on her bare feet, so she hustled back to the carpeted bedroom, a second towel in hand to dry her body.
Cassie pawed through her messy closet for clothes, wishing she was better organize
d. She put on her favorite striped sweat pants, a black shirt, and slippers. Unwrapping the towel from her hair, she shook it out.
For some reason, worry about her mother intensified. Cassie’s hunches were generally right on, so she left her room, intent on locating Eleanora.
Out in the hall she stopped to change the combination to the wall safe where the keys to her mother’s car had been. Before she slammed the metal door, she glanced inside, wondering if Tyler had helped himself to anything else. Cassie sifted through the safe’s contents and then shook her head. Since she didn’t really know what was supposed to be in there, her efforts wouldn’t do much good. She chucked the Aston Martin’s keys inside and relocked it.
Even if it’s kind of like shutting the barn door after the cow’s left, I’ll make an inventory list—tomorrow.
“Mom,” she called, checking the rest of the second floor rooms. She stopped for a moment, staring into Eleanora’s bedroom. It was an amazing place; in the daytime jewel-toned light from a bank of stained-glass windows spilled through it. Tonight, however, it remained dark and silent. As always, a vestige of her mother’s soothing scent lingered. Taking the stairs to the third floor two at a time, Cassie switched on the lights to the upper hall and searched all seven bedrooms. Eleanora wasn’t in any of them.
Hearing a thunk behind her, she twirled around, her heart pounding way too fast. Hector stared up at her, his tail swishing back and forth.
“Mrrrrow?” he inquired as he sashayed past with understated grace.
“Where is she?” Cassie demanded. Another meow, with a long purr tacked on, was all she got. The cat did stop at the bottom of the spiral stairs to the attic. He looked back at Cassionetta and mewed plaintively.
Reluctantly, she started up the bare wooden risers. Hector seemed to think Eleanora was up here, which made sense. There wasn’t anywhere else to look—except the basement. The uppermost floor of the house always gave Cassie the creeps. She’d gotten tangled in a spell there when she was around five or six, and hours passed before anyone thought to look for her.