Shadow Shifter

by Jane Hinchey

  I’d never been in a parlor before and was somewhat disappointed. I’d been expecting something opulent, but even though I was sure the antique love seat I was sitting on was probably the real deal, it was still just a sitting room. Ben stayed on his feet, gazing out the front window at the manicured gardens. The parlor was very feminine. Tiny figurines sat on almost every available surface, and I’d decided sitting down was my best option in case I accidentally knocked something over and had to pay for its replacement. Something told me I wouldn’t be able to afford that type of bill.

  “Watcher, good to see you again.” Rebecca Keller glided into the room, elegant in a pale pink pantsuit and white stilettos, with her hair twisted into a bun at the back of her head. She looked like a supermodel. I scowled, feeling decidedly frumpy in comparison. She faltered when she saw me. “Oh. You.”

  Yeah. How flattering.

  “Me,” I agreed.

  “You two work together?” She looked puzzled. I didn’t know how to answer her, so I let Ben field this one.

  “Miss Gates is helping me with this case in a consultant capacity,” he explained.

  “But isn’t she a suspect? Surely that isn’t ethical?” This Rebecca was not the vulnerable Rebecca I’d spoken to days ago. This Rebecca was as cold as ice, and the way she looked down her nose at me had my hackles rising. Ben shot me a glance, warning me—again—to stay quiet. Ugh. As much as it pained me to do so, I complied.

  “Miss Gates is not a suspect,” was all he said.

  I almost laughed out loud. He didn’t have to explain himself to her. She clearly didn’t like it, judging by the way her back tensed and her mouth pinched like a cat’s ass hole.

  “Please, have a seat.” She indicated a small armchair with curved arms and an embroidered cream-colored fabric opposite her own chair. It looked like a throne. We were on her turf now.

  “I’ll stand, thanks,” Ben said.

  Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue. I shot Ben a glance. This was awesome. He was good at this.

  “Suit yourself.” She smoothed the fabric of her pantsuit over her knees and looked up at him. “What can I do for you Watcher?”

  “How well do you know Paul Keyes?”

  “Paul Keyes?” She tapped a manicured finger against her pink lips. “I don’t think I know a Paul Keyes.”

  “He seems to know you,” Ben replied drolly. “The CFO at Ted’s company?”

  “Oh! That Paul Keyes. Well, yes, I know of him. I don’t really know him, though.”

  Ben raised an eyebrow. “So you wouldn’t say you were on speaking terms with him? If you saw him at a social gathering, he wouldn’t be someone you’d mingle with?”

  “To be honest, no. Paul may be a CFO, but that’s what I call a false rank. He’s a glorified accountant, not a CEO or a president.”

  Geez Louise, her prejudice surprised me. Talk about a status-seeking attention whore. My eyes drilled into her. I was having a hard time reconciling this version of Rebecca with the tearful, heartbroken woman I’d met the other day. Even her aura had changed from a light golden glow to a dark orange tint. Interesting. And confusing. I had no idea what it meant. I glanced up at Ben and found him watching me, a brow arched. Then he turned his attention back to Rebecca.

  “So you wouldn’t have felt compelled to give Paul a cupcake because he was looking hungry and you thought he needed it?”

  “No, of course not.” Her eyes darted to the floor for the briefest of moments. She was lying.

  “That’s not what Paul told us. He’s very distraught after Ted’s death. He didn’t remember all the details straight away, but it’s often the case after a couple of days that all sorts of small details start to come back to a person. Who said what, who did what.”

  “Er.” She swallowed. She didn’t look so sure of herself now.

  “One last chance, Mrs. Keller.” Ben’s voice had gone hard and sharp. I was glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of it. “Did you hand Paul Keyes a cupcake at the afternoon tea you both attended on Sunday?”

  Silence filled the room. An ornate grandfather clock in the corner ticked away the seconds.

  “Um, let me think.” She dragged it out, rubbing her palms on her knees again. “Why, now that you mention it, I think I may have.”

  “You think?”

  “Yes. Yes, I gave him a cupcake.” She nodded, hands still rubbing away at her knees. Her aura was all over the place, darkening from the orange of earlier to almost red, then back to a strange yellow. I knew Ben could see it for himself, so I continued to sit quietly and wait. This was fascinating.

  “And where did you get the cupcake from?”

  “The buffet table.” She cast a scathing glance at me and I raised my brows in surprise.

  “Did you add anything to the cupcake? Tamper with it in any way?”

  “What? No!”

  “Are you sure? Because let me caution you right here, Mrs. Keller. Lying to me again isn’t going to go well for you. Understand?”

  “Perfectly, Watcher.” She rallied, straightening her shoulders, her hands now clasped in her lap. The ice queen was back.

  “Now that I think about it, the truth is, Watcher, I didn’t get the cupcake from the buffet table.” Her voice was clear and calm. “Wes Quinn gave it to me. He was carrying two—a yellow one and a blue one. He gave me the blue one and I took it to be polite, but truth be told, Watcher, I had no plans to eat it. Too many carbs. I was about to throw it in the bin when I saw Paul and decided to give it to him.”

  “You’re just remembering this now. Convenient,” Ben muttered.

  His eyes narrowed in anger, but his body still radiated a calm that I envied. I was so wound up I wanted to slap the silly woman’s face. What made me even angrier was that I wasn’t one hundred percent sure she was telling the truth. She’d lied before, and I hadn’t picked up on it. This one was a player. I didn’t trust her. Not to mention that was two people today who’d said they were going to throw my cupcake in the bin. My teeth clenched until they hurt. Bastards.

  “You’re sure now that Wes Quinn gave you the cupcake?”

  “Yes. I’m positive.”

  “Any reason he was hand-delivering cupcakes?”

  “Well, he joked that he couldn’t decide between the yellow and the blue, so he grabbed both, but then realized his hands were full and he couldn’t hold his drink.”

  Pfft. That didn’t ring true. If that were the case, he’d have put one of the cupcakes back down on the buffet table, not walk away with it. I was guessing Ben agreed with me, based on the expression on his face.

  “I’ve got what I need for now,” he said. “Don’t leave town, Mrs. Keller. You’re not off the hook yet.”

  She rose to her feet, a triumphant grin on her face, but Ben halted her with his next words.

  “Just so you know, you are on my suspect list. Right at the top. Motive. Opportunity.” He ticked the words off on his fingers. “If I find out you’re lying to me again, I’ll be back with a warrant to search this house, your vehicles, any properties you and your husband own, and your husband’s offices. Do we understand each other?”

  “Perfectly, Watcher.” Sweeping out of the room, her back ramrod straight, she left us to find our own way out.

  “I’m gob smacked,” I admitted, sitting in the passenger seat of Ben’s truck.

  He glanced at me, turning the key in the ignition and easing out into the afternoon traffic. “Why’s that?” he asked.

  “I could have sworn when I talked to Rebecca before, that she was this sweet, innocent woman. I saw no sign of that woman today. And I’d had no clue she’d lied to me. I didn’t have her pegged at all and I thought I did.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Gotta remember I do this for a living.”

  “I guess.”

  “So tell me, my little amateur sleuth—what’s next?” he asked teasingly.

  I thought for a moment, my mind going over everything we’d learned today.
Rebecca had given the cupcake to Paul. Wes had given the cupcake to Rebecca. And Katherine Quinn had said she directed Ted to the cupcake buffet directly. At what point was the cupcake poisoned?

  “Well, we definitely need to speak with Wes Quinn,” I suggested.

  “Definitely. And we can’t assume Rebecca isn’t on the phone right now warning him. But he can wait. Won’t hurt to let him sweat.”

  “Right.” My head was starting to ache, and I absently rubbed my temple. Although my concussion had gone—well, the worst of it—my headache kept returning when I was tired.

  Ben looked over at me, frowning. “I’m taking you home. You need to rest.”

  “I’m fine,” I assured him, quickly dropping my hand into my lap.

  “Bullshit.” He laughed. “You should know better than to lie to me, Kristina.”

  Busted. “Okay. Yes, I have a headache. A quick nap sounds wonderful. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  “It’ll do.”

  He pulled up in front of my apartment and walked me inside, fussing as he settled me on the sofa. Then he brought a glass of water and painkillers, and tucked a throw around me.

  “Enough already,” I groused in mock irritation. “I’ll be fine. I need to go into the shop later. I’ll have a quick rest and head in.”

  “Absolutely not!” he insisted. “Paige has it all under control. Stock levels are okay for now. If you have to bake, bake here.”

  “How do you know about my stock levels? And how do you know Paige?” I eyed him suspiciously.

  “Because I talked with her multiple times when you were out of it and let her know you’d be out of action for a few days.”

  “Oh.” Right. Yes, that made sense.

  He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  “Thank you,” I replied automatically, yawning.

  “Here.” He pushed the glass into one hand and dropped two pills into the other. I swallowed them, and he took the glass out of my hand, nudging my shoulder until I was laying on the sofa.

  “Rest. I’ve got stuff to do at the office. I’ll be back later. Stay out of trouble.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead and was gone.

  I lay for a moment, pondering the kiss and the way he’d been taking care of me. Were we a couple? I had flashes of memory from the night of my attack—he’d woken me continuously, stroking my face and hair, and then I’d found myself curled up against his side in the morning, with his strong arms around me as he slept, equally exhausted from our night of interruptions.

  He definitely cared, and there was definitely an attraction. A big, strong, hot, sizzling one. My lips curved into a smile as I slipped into sleep.

  9

  I was elbow deep in cake mix when the message arrived. I’d never received a message from the Council before, and at first, I didn’t know what was happening. The room shook. Then, before my eyes, a parchment appeared in midair, unfurled itself, and a booming voice rang out, “Kristina Esmerelda Gates, you are hereby on probation with the Council. Your involvement in the death of a human and your excessive use of magic on the twenty-second have alerted us that you are not in compliance with Council rules. One more infraction, and we will confiscate your magic and bring you in front of the Council for sentencing!”

  The parchment disintegrated in a poof of sparks and smoke. Velma scattered, her claws slipping and scratching as she propelled herself from the room at breakneck speed, clearly terrified.

  I stood frozen. What. The. Hell?

  Okay, I knew the Council was pissed that I was involved in the cupcake murder, but that wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t killed Ted, and surely Ben had relayed that to them.

  Excessive magic, though? What on earth were they talking about? My heart pounded; I was worried I’d be stripped of magic and tossed in the pokey for things I didn’t do! I had to clear my name and get to the bottom of this mess, and fast. Picking up my phone, I shot Ben a message. Where are you?

  I puzzled over the matter as I returned to my baking, but my concentration was shot. Already I had three large containers stacked atop each other, ready to be delivered to Jam. Glancing at the clock, I knew it was too late to do so today. It was nearing eight-thirty, and Jam would be closed. I’d drop everything off in the morning. My afternoon nap had resulted in a three-hour sleep, and I’d woken in a bit of a panic, knowing I had so much baking to do, but I breathed a little easier on that front now that I had a few batches done.

  And now this—the Council hot on my ass for things I didn’t do.

  My phone beeped and I looked at the screen. A message from Ben. At your front door.

  A loud knock made me jump, but I couldn’t contain a grin. Throwing the door open, I drank in the sight of him, wanting nothing more than to run into his arms and have him hold me. But I hesitated, unsure where we stood. As if reading my mind, he stepped forward and pulled me against his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head. Neither of us spoke, but to be honest, it was bliss. Exactly what I needed. His presence calmed my racing mind, settling the panic that bubbled through my veins at the thought of losing my magic and being locked away.

  “Something’s happened,” he muttered, pulling away long enough to shut the front door.

  “I had a message from the Council,” I blurted out, heading for the kitchen. “I’m on probation.”

  “What?”

  “Apparently they’re not happy with my involvement in the death of a human, and they’re pinging me for excessive use of magic. I haven’t used excessive magic, I swear!” To my horror, tears burned my eyes and a lump formed in my throat. I didn’t like to cry, and I especially didn’t like to cry in front of Ben.

  “Hey.” He pulled me back into his arms, hand stroking down my back soothingly. “It must be a misunderstanding. I’ll sort it out.”

  I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and gave him a watery smile “Gah, I’m usually so much more together than this. I feel like such a wreck.”

  “You’ve got a lot going on, and you recently sustained a head injury. You don’t have to be strong all the time. You can lean on me.”

  “I can?” I leaned forward into his arms, giving him my weight.

  “You can.” He squeezed me tight. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Miss Gates, I like you. A lot.”

  I was getting that idea from the hardness I could feel pressing against my belly. Zap! My tears evaporated and lust consumed me. I tingled all over. My skin felt electric and my blood sizzled in my veins, not to mention the ache in my lady parts.

  “I like you too,” I murmured, lifting my face.

  His mouth came down on mine, gentle at first, until I opened to him and my tongue snuck out, tasting and reveling in him. He was musk and honey and chocolate—all my favorite things. I couldn’t get enough. He groaned into my mouth and it was the most erotic thing ever. Clutching his face between my hands, I kissed him as if my life depended on it. He returned the kiss with a heated passion all his own. One hand cupped my nape while the other spanned my jaw, tilting my head just so, getting me exactly where he wanted me. And exactly where I wanted to be.

  When his mouth left mine, I groaned in protest, only to gasp in delight when he trailed hot kisses down my neck, biting and nipping, then soothing with his tongue. His hands settled at my waist, hoisting me onto the kitchen bench. Then he was between my legs, and I couldn’t have been happier. Or hornier.

  I pushed at his jacket and he shrugged out of it, letting it drop to the floor behind him. When I started to pull his T-shirt up, revealing his sculpted chest, he hooked the hem and yanked it over his head, tossing it aside with the jacket. As I explored him with my fingers and mouth, he got busy with his own hands, tugging my shirt off and unsnapping my bra with uncanny ease. When his large palm cupped my breast, I arched into him, gasping, the friction of skin against skin burning me to my core. We explored each other in a flurry of mouths, tongues, and hands, and I couldn’t get enough.

  “More!” I groaned, lips tingling from the bruising ki
sses as my mouth dueled with his.

  He pushed me back onto the counter, his hands at the snap of my jeans. A second later, they were gone, along with my underwear, and I was totally naked before him. Instead of feeling embarrassed, I felt empowered. He groaned, standing between my thighs and drinking in my body. Then he leaned over and trailed hot, wet kisses down my front, between my breasts, across my stomach, to the very spot I wanted him to be.

  I jerked when his tongue found my core.

  “You’re fucking delicious,” he growled.

  The vibration almost made me come. My brain stopped functioning with the delicious things he was doing with his mouth and fingers. My hips arched, and he slung his free arm across them to keep me pinned to the counter while he crouched between my legs and gave me the best orgasm of my life.

  Coming down from my high, I stretched and arched as he made his way back up my body, kissing me so I could taste myself on his tongue. I’d never experienced anything so erotic.

  “I want you. Inside me. Now,” I demanded, wrapping my legs around his waist and locking him against me.

  “Happy to oblige, little witch.” His voice was deep and sexy, and goose bumps danced across my skin.

  He shed his jeans, and then I felt him hot and hard at my entrance. I reached between us and guided him into me. With slow, deliberate movements, he pushed until he was deep inside, and I could already feel another orgasm building just from the sensation of him filling me so completely. I sat up, pulling him to me as he pumped between my legs, rubbing me in just the right spot. It was everything I wanted and more. He loved me in the way I needed to be loved—hard and fast one moment, taking me to the edge, then pulling back, going slow and gentle until my body was on fire. I couldn’t talk, only feel, my head spinning as my blood burned in my veins and I feared I’d spontaneously combust.

  “You are incredible,” he groaned.