by Lynn, Denise
Ariel wanted to scream. How could she have lost her cell phone? She could have sworn she’d put it in her purse before leaving her apartment, because she’d had to go back inside to grab it off the nightstand.
And of course there wasn’t a phone booth in sight. But luckily there was a bar on the opposite corner. Surely they’d have a phone.
Standing at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, she had the strangest feeling of being watched. Ariel looked around. Even though she didn’t see anyone suspicious, the feeling didn’t go away.
Guilt. That’s all it was. What else could it be?
Ariel glanced at her watch. Thirty minutes was all she had left. If she didn’t call Renalde by then, everything she’d done so far would have been for nothing—Carl would be killed.
The light turned green. She melted into a group of women tourists who were pointing at the bar and talking about getting lunch. She didn’t know if there really was safety in numbers or not, but joining the group made the tingle at the base of her neck lessen.
Ariel followed them into the bar and headed for the hostess while the group veered off into the gift shop.
The hostess looked around Ariel. “Just one?”
“Actually none. I just need a phone.”
“I can bring one to your table.”
She didn’t have time to run around looking for a pay phone, so she’d nab a bite to eat. “That’ll be fine as long as I can get the phone right away.”
“I’ll grab one on the way through.”
True to her word, the hostess retrieved a wireless handset from the bartender and led Ariel to a booth in the back corner. “It’s quieter back here.”
As soon as the woman left, Ariel punched in Renalde’s number. After seven rings her heart slammed into her stomach. She checked her watch again. There was still twenty minutes to spare.
Finally, after the tenth ring, she heard a click on the other end. “This had better be Ariel.”
His voice was strained. He sounded as if he was in a great deal of pain. She didn’t care enough to ask. “Yes, it’s me.”
“Why aren’t you using your cell? Where are you?”
“I seem to have lost it, so I’m at a bar in town.”
He made some sort of indistinguishable sound, then asked, “You are still staying at the Lair?”
“Yes, I am.” As soon as she answered, Ariel swore that something unseen entered her head. She rubbed her temples trying to ease the strange feeling.
“Stop it.”
She froze. Something—someone—had entered her mind.
“What have you found?”
His voice was coming from inside her head, not through the phone. Somehow Renalde was able to invade her mind even from a distance. At his huff of impatience, she answered, “I haven’t found anything yet.”
“Have you been trying?”
Why was he asking her? If he could slip into her mind, why couldn’t he just find the answer himself? Why did she even have to bother coming to town?
Something closed around her throat. Ariel gasped for breath.
“Don’t question me. Don’t get smart with me. Both you and Carl are quite dispensable.” The invisible hand around her throat tightened. “Do you understand me?”
Unable to talk, Ariel nodded. The hold disappeared.
“Now, my dear.”
She made a face at his use of the word dear, but let him continue without comment.
“You have one week to call me back with the news that you know the location of both the pendant and cube, or that they are in your possession.”
She didn’t need to ask what would happen if she failed. “I’ll try.”
“You’ll do more than just try.”
Her ears buzzed and eyes watered as the room spun for a moment. Apparently, Renalde had made his exit from her mind. Even though she was getting used to the intrusion, this was all just way too strange for her. It was more like a nightmare than reality.
The idea of eating lunch made her ill. Her hands were shaking too much to even pick up her glass of water. When all of this was over, Carl had some serious explaining to do.
“Drink?”
Ariel closed her eyes. This is exactly what she didn’t want—some guy trying to pick her up in the bar. She clicked off the phone and set it on the table without looking up. “No, thank you. I’m waiting for someone.”
“Anyone I know?”
She groaned, recognizing Cameron’s voice. Ariel glanced up at him. “Sorry, I thought you were some stranger trying to pick up women.”
Now her heart really was in her stomach. She’d avoided Cameron Drake as much as she possibly could these past few days—ever since she’d started having extremely realistic dreams about him…and her. Ariel felt her cheeks burn just thinking about the dreams and tried to swallow past the dryness in her mouth.
Cam gritted his teeth against the tidal wave of her pheromones crashing against him. He knew exactly what thoughts had put the telltale flush on her cheeks. Unfortunately, so did his now-alert beast.
At least his spell had worked—she believed that what had happened in her apartment was nothing more than a dream. Apparently the scene on the beach was one that obviously haunted her.
Good. He hoped the dream kept her warm at night, because he would never make the mistake of getting too close to her again. It was too dangerous. He didn’t know if next time he’d be able to resist the desire that flared so easily between them. And he didn’t like the longing that still tortured him after denying the passion the last time.
Cam’s chest tightened. His thoughts upset the dragon within. He didn’t care—the last thing he wanted to do was risk making love to Ariel Johnson, regardless of what desires drove his demon to spit and snarl in protest. Besides, at this moment, his fantasies consisted of strangling her more than anything else.
He’d followed her into the bar and made certain the hostess seated him close enough for him to overhear some of her conversation. Once the Learned had slipped into Ariel’s mind, Cam had been unable to follow.
But her body’s reactions—pounding heart, racing blood, tang of fear—had clued him in to the general idea of what was being said. He got the distinct impression that she was being threatened.
What did the Learneds have to hold against her that would make her live a lie and intentionally put another family—his family—in danger?
Cam once again offered her the glass he held. “It’s just iced tea.”
She took the glass from him, being extra careful not to let their fingers touch. “Thank you. Please, join me.”
“I had every intention of doing so since you’re on my clock.” He slid onto the bench across from her.
“I didn’t know I needed permission to leave for lunch.”
“Permission? No, but some notice would have been nice, and leaving without your cell phone wasn’t a wise move.” He pulled it from his pocket and set it on the table. “And quit driving that van up and down the mountain.”
“My van is perfectly safe.”
“It’s top-heavy, rear-wheel drive and most likely doesn’t handle well.”
She visibly bristled. Her eyes blazed and she tightened her lips. Ariel leaned forward. “I appreciate your concern, but you are not my father and I don’t need a keeper.” She shot him a hot, narrow-eyed glare, adding, “And I am not driving the car Harold recommended.”
Cam stirred his tea, studying the ice
cubes in an attempt not to laugh at her flash of outrage. “Harold was teasing you. There’s a sedan or a Jeep that you’re free to use.”
She said nothing, but he didn’t have to be a genius to know she resented being told what to do. “Look, Ariel, when those roads get the slightest bit wet, they’re treacherous. I have no desire to explain your death to your brother.”
“I know how to drive.”
“I never said you didn’t.”
“That’s what it sounded like to me.”
Cam leaned back on the bench. “Awful defensive for such a small thing. Obviously something else is wrong, care to discuss it?”
She paled and stared down at the table. He was disappointed by her reaction. This would be no fun at all if she clammed up under stress.
He resisted the urge to reach across the table and cover her folded hands with his. Offering comfort over something this small wouldn’t be to his benefit.
“Ariel, you may be offended, but I insist—” His cell phone vibrated against his chest. He pulled it out and frowned. Why was Alexia calling him?
He sent the call to voice mail and turned his focus back to Ariel. “I insist you take one of the smaller vehicles. They handle better, both are four-wheel drive, so you’ll have better traction and control. There’s less chance of—” He glanced down at his cell, then told her, “I have to take this, it’s my sister-in-law.”
Ariel nodded.
Cam flipped open the phone. “What do you need, Lexi?”
“Make sure the grimoire is safe, would you?” Alexia’s voice whispered through his phone.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” The family book of spells was locked securely in his office desk.
“Just check for me.” Alexia sounded frantic.
“I’m not at the Lair.”
“Can’t you just pop back and check?”
“No. But Braeden can.”
“No, he can’t. He doesn’t know.”
Cam blinked at her whining tone. Something was obviously wrong. Alexia wasn’t a whiner. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I need you to check. Something just feels wrong. I keep seeing the grimoire and it’s not in your office.”
The lock on his desk was spelled, so the book damn well better still be there. “Where is it then?”
“I don’t know, some woman has it.”
Cam glanced across the table at Ariel. “What does she look like?”
“I can’t tell. It’s like I’m seeing her through some foggy dream.”
Certain she was seeing Ariel, he cursed to himself. “I’ll be leaving here in a few minutes. I’ll give you a call as soon as I get back there, okay?”
“Please, hurry.”
“I will.”
He put the phone back in his pocket. “Something’s come up. We’ll finish this conversation later.”
“There’s nothing to finish.”
“I don’t have time to argue, I need to get back to the Lair.” He stood up and dropped some money on the table. “Have lunch on me.”
Ariel grabbed the money and threw it at him. “I don’t need your money.”
Cam refused to get drawn into a petty argument with her. He left the money on the floor and walked away.
She had never felt like such a fool in her entire life. Ariel covered her burning face with her hands. She’d humiliated herself in public and acted like some spoiled brat.
The man was her employer, not her lover. What was wrong with her? Ever since breaking into Mirabilus, she’d been haunted by dreams, teased by cravings she didn’t fully understand.
She’d lost count of the times she’d stood on the balcony of her suite letting the brisk wind whip about her while she watched the hawks soar, wishing all the while she could join them.
What bothered her was that it wasn’t just a wish—it was more a need, a craving to let something deep inside her be free—something dark and wild that she didn’t comprehend.
Ariel rubbed her forehead and breathed deeply. The sooner she found what Renalde wanted and got away from the Lair and Cameron, the better.
“Give me your keys.”
She jumped at Cam’s voice and uncovered her face to look up at him. His hair and shoulders were wet.
“It’s raining. You aren’t driving that van back to the Lair.” He set his keys on the table. “The sedan is parked in the lot one block down and one street behind here.” He handed her a prepaid parking-ticket stub. “It’s a black Mercury.”
“I still don’t understand—”
He leaned down, his hands flat on the table, his face inches from hers. “My sister-in-law nearly died making that drive in the rain. Her unborn baby did die. I am not—I repeat not—pulling your dead body from that van.”
She pulled her keys from her purse and handed them to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Her words trailed off as he turned around and walked away again.
The waitress approached the table, stopping to retrieve the money from the floor. She started to place it on the table, but Ariel held up her hand. “No, keep it.”
The young woman looked at the bill. Her eyes flew open wide. “But, ma’am, it’s a hundred-dollar bill.”
“It’s yours.”
“Thank you. Can I get you anything else?”
“No, just a bill for the drinks.”
“Your boyfriend already paid for them.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Ariel rubbed her temples. “He’s my boss.”
The waitress’s eyebrows nearly disappeared behind her bangs. “I should be so lucky.”
Lucky? Oh, yeah, that’s what she was—lucky. Ariel felt, oh, so lucky.
The waitress put the empty glasses on her tray. “You have a wonderful day and thanks again.”
“You, too.” Ariel grabbed her purse and took off to find Cam’s car. She needed to get back and do some more snooping. How she was going to find something as small as a pendant in a building the size of the Lair was beyond her understanding, but there really wasn’t any other choice.
Besides, she couldn’t spend the afternoon dallying here; she also needed to get back to her laptop to do some more gardening research.
There were some plants depending on her supposed expertise. She could only hope they didn’t die before she could figure out what was wrong with them.
Chapter 8
Through a red haze of rage, Cam stared at the grimoire lying on the desk in Ariel’s apartment office. How had she got it out of his desk? And why couldn’t he pry it from the top of hers?
He’d tried to pick it up, repeatedly, then he’d resorted to spells. And still he’d had no success. It was as if the grimoire was permanently attached to her desk.
How?
There had been no indication that any magic had been performed at the Lair this last week. He hadn’t so much as sensed his aunt casting charm spells, let alone something powerful enough to get past his locks—tangible or magical.
“What are you doing?”
He hadn’t heard Ariel enter the apartment. Not that it mattered, it saved him from having to go and find her.
Without turning around, Cam asked, “How did you get past my spell?”
“Your what?”
Her little game of playing ignorant needed to stop. “Enough.” He spun around. “No more.”
She backed away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
; “This.” Cam pointed at the book on the table. “The grimoire. When did you steal it?”
Ariel leaned a little to look around him. “Steal it? I’ve never seen it before. What is it?”
If confronting her outright didn’t work, what was it going to take to get her to admit what she was doing? “Right, Ariel, like you don’t know what it is.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t.”
It would be easier if he could believe her, but the proof of her lie was right there, seemingly glued to her desk. He took a breath, but it did nothing to cool his anger. Normally he was capable of controlling his emotions. But something about this woman shattered any semblance of self-control he—and his dragon—possessed.
“Knock it off. Your game is up. The proof is right there for anyone to see. You didn’t even bother to try hiding it.”
Knock it off? Cameron was acting as if he’d lost his ability to reason. “Look, I don’t know how that book got there, but I sure as hell didn’t put it there.”
He advanced on her—there was no other word she could think of to describe his feral appearance or approach. He stalked her as if she was nothing more than helpless prey. The glittering eyes, tensed jaw and fisted hands as he loomed over her sent her adrenaline racing.
Ariel backed away, careful to keep a close eye on him. She had to get out of here, otherwise she feared he’d completely lose control.
“Don’t lie to me anymore. I know you work for the Learneds.”
“Who?” Even though he had the name wrong, Ariel knew he was onto something. It didn’t matter if he’d figured out that she worked for someone else or not. She wouldn’t admit it—doing so would only assure Carl’s death. “I work for you. Remember, I’m your gardener?”
Cameron lifted his arm and moved his hand as if he was writing something on an invisible blackboard, then made a motion to turn the imaginary board toward her. He said nothing, just glared at her.
Ariel held up her hands and shrugged. Was she supposed to do or see something? “What?”
“You can break a lock spell, but can’t read?”