by Amie Gibbons
It sailed far out of the parking lot, probably hitting somewhere near the Parthenon clear down the way in the park.
My mouth fell open.
“You just… you can’t… I need my phone!” I said.
“Don’t worry, lea, the time away from home will do it some good. For one, it’ll keep you off Facebook.”
“Ha ha. Work calls on that phone. What if we get a case?”
“You’re on a hit list, and you’re worried about work?”
Well, when he put it that way.
Oh duh. GPS.
It took actual physical effort not to slap my head. My cell wasn’t the only thing equipped with a GPS.
“This way.” Carvi put a hand on the small of my back and steered me around the car. “I have a hotel room not far from here. You should be safe there. I’ll contact Grant and tell him once you’re tucked away.”
Grant would get to us before that.
I nodded, keeping my face turned from him so he wouldn’t see the thought.
The rental car was a (surprise, surprise) Porsche. It was painted a red so deep the half hidden under the lengthening shadows of the overhanging trees looked black. I settled in the passenger seat and took an appreciative whiff of the white leather.
Carvi retracted the top, gave me a wink, and we were off, out of the parking lot and on the tiny road twining through the park.
Until he hit West End and slammed on the brakes as the line of cars said just how bad rush hour in Nashville was affecting his cool factor.
He growled under his breath and I snorted.
Carvi’s a lead foot when there’s open road. Actually, I have a lead foot, he’s got a plutonium one. But even vamps have to follow the basic laws of physics that say the car can’t go faster than the one in front of it.
He had us to his hotel in downtown in about twenty minutes.
In classic Carvi fashion, he’d chosen the Da Vinci. Of course.
It’s one of the ritziest hotels in Nashville. Think the Four Seasons’ artistic little brother and you’ve got the Da Vinci.
A valet around my age took the car off Carvi’s hands and we went in through the back. To keep people from seeing me I guess, cuz God knows it wasn’t for Carvi to avoid the wine and cheese happy hour going on in the lobby.
I caught a glimpse of the well-dressed patrons as we passed the doorway into the lobby.
“That’s right up your alley,” I said as we got on the elevator. It was lined with gold and red velvet. Carvi hit number thirteen for the top floor and I shivered as the mirrored doors closed.
“Uptight businessmen and politicians?” he asked.
“Drunk, good looking, all about to go out to party types.”
He gave me a wolfish grin in the mirror. “I like my interpretation better. It’s so much more fun to fuck people who have the illusion that they’re proper, upstanding citizens.”
Our eyes locked in the mirror and I half expected it to fog up.
“Fucking sweet, moral little girls who still believe in monogamy and happily ever afters is even more fun than that,” he said.
I crossed my arms and frowned at him.
“Ohhhh, I’m not talking about you, lea,” he said. “We both know you aren’t that girl. No matter how much you pretend to be.”
I scowled at him in the mirror.
Ding.
The doors slid open. Strangely enough, that didn’t make me feel better. I was going into a hotel room with Carvi?
What the hell was I thinking?
I’d stayed away from him the past three and a half months for a reason.
Even though technically he was supposed to be teaching me how to control my powers, and I’d expected him to reach out during that time.
The thirteenth floor had an oriental theme. The hall had rich black carpets with swirls of blood-red and ocean-blue, and lacquered tables bearing orchids in dragon vases between every one of the well-spaced doors.
Carvi pulled a keycard out of his pants pocket at the last door, swiped it, and led me in.
It wasn’t a room so much as an executive suite bigger than most apartments.
We were in the living-kitchen area and I could see the equally spacious bedroom through the French doors.
The furniture was all black leather, red velvet, and orientally designed lacquered tables. The flat screen TV, speakers, and kitchen appliances were all state-of-the-art. The tiles and counter in the kitchen area were onyx with sparkling bits of red and gold. A dragon fountain that smelled of eucalyptus bubbled by the counter.
“Let me guess, you helped decorate?” I said through sudden onset dry mouth.
“I had a few suggestions when I knew I was coming up.”
“You came here and got a room before you tracked me down to tell me there was a hit out on me?” I asked as I took off my heels.
If I was going to be there, I was going to be comfortable.
No, not that kind of comfortable. The heels were all that were coming off, no matter how tight the top was.
“No,” Carvi said.
“Then how?” I pointed to the keycard.
“I keep this room permanently rented. This is where my vampires or friends stay when they’re up here.” He surveyed the room and gave a satisfied nod. “I just had the fountain put in. Eucalyptus helps humans with breathing. I don’t know if it will help with your asthma, but it smells nice.”
He remembered my asthma?
“Yeah,” I said softly.
He had a eucalyptus fountain put in? Just cuz I was going to hole up for a day or two? Really?
I couldn’t decide if he was being sweet, or trying to tempt me down into a permanent job with his nest in Miami again, or if he just wanted to get in my pants.
“So,” I walked through the living room, squishing the plush carpet in my bare piggies, “I’ve been working on my visions, but I still can’t see anything without something to focus on. Did the guy offered the job on me get anything else from the hit-man employer?”
“No. It was a call from a pre-paid cell phone with magic blockers to keep it from being traced back through the astral plane. My friend officially took the job on you. If the employer has any more information, he’ll send it out to the hit men, including Benjamin, and he’ll tell me. They have your name, description, that you’re in Nashville, with the FBI, and that you’re psychic.”
“Okay.” I sat on the couch.
I couldn’t even think.
“I know you said I should be able to see anything if I focused, but I don’t know how. I’ve been trying and...” I tossed my hands up.
“If you’d talked to me the last three months, I would have helped you.”
“I... after what happened... I figured you’d call me.”
Carvi pulled out a cell phone and nodded at my bag. “Get set up. I’ll tell your boss you’re fine.” He dialed as he walked into the bedroom.
I wasn’t even surprised he remembered Grant’s number.
I first got my visions senior year of college. I found out soon after that sandalwood helps the psychic juices. Quil taught me that alcohol helps because it lowers mental guards and inhibitions, but that’s only if I already have something to focus on.
I pulled the sticks of sandalwood incense out of my purse along with the wooden bowl I always set them in and the engraved gold lighter Kat got me for my birthday. I lit the incense and sat back, trying not to breathe in the smoke while still getting the scent. There was a reason my asthma started flaring up again.
I didn’t know what Carvi expected of me. When I said I couldn’t get anything without a focus, I wasn’t just whining or making excuses.
My eyes flicked to the door as Carvi’s mumble met my ears. Maybe a little warm-up was in order.
I closed my eyes, letting Carvi’s face fill my head. He could block me if he was trying, but that was only if he knew he needed to try.
Flash.
“...s not your call,” Grant’s cold-as-frozen-silk v
oice was saying. “Where are you?”
The audio came in with perfect surround sound quality, but I saw better picture on TVs running on vacuum tubes. The world was deep gold, the usual color my present-time visions of Carvi took on, with the barest outlines of Carvi in-between a bed and a dresser.
“Now, now,” Carvi said, “play nice, Grant. Your agent is tucked away safe. And considering the people looking for her know she’s an FBI agent, it would be best to-”
“How do they know?” Grant cut him off.
“You tell me.”
“What are you implying, Carvagio?”
“My contact told me they have Ariana’s complete FBI dossier. They didn’t get it through positive thinking.”
“Begs the same question,” my boss bit. “What are you im...”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m saying it. Someone in the FBI has on their black hat. And until we find out who, the only people I trust with my psychic are Quil, you and your team.”
His psychic? Who the hell did he think he was?
I heard Grant suck in air like my ear was one inch from his lips. “Thank you for the tip. We’ll be looking into it. Now where’s my agent?”
“You find out who’s playing both sides, and I’ll...”
Duhhhhhhhh, rang in his ear. Grant had hung up.
My eyes snapped open and I slumped back in the cushy seat. Someone in the FBI gave or sold my info to someone who wanted to kill me?
My mind ran through everyone in the SDF section. The people I saw every day. Obviously not my teammates Jet and Dan, or Kat, that went without saying. I couldn’t imagine anyone on the other teams or the director betraying me. Even the people who weren’t my biggest fans wouldn’t. I was too useful in investigations. That still left pretty much anyone outside our section, from other section directors down to the janitors.
But at least it gave us a place to start looking.
I shot up and marched back to where I left my shoes by the rectangular table.
“No,” came from behind.
“Eep.” I jumped as a hand caught my arm.
“Eavesdropping?” Carvi asked as he whirled me around. “I thought I sensed you.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Why not?”
“I wanted to see how long it took you to pick it up.” Carvi led me back to the couch. I sat and he kneeled in front of me. “I was going to have you try to see what was said.”
“Warm-up,” I said.
He nodded, pressing himself against my knees. “Close your eyes.”
“I still don’t have anything to focus on.”
“You do this for a living. Now close your eyes.”
I gave a dramatic sigh, but did as he asked. “I focus on evidence and the bodies and people who knew the victims.”
“You are the victim, mei vegrandis lea. You are what you need to focus on.” Gentle fingertips went to my temples, massaging, twining the short hairs there.
“I never thought of it that way,” I whispered. “Seeing things about others by focusing on me.”
“They want you,” he said, making my eyelashes stir with the words. He didn’t have to breathe to live, but he did need air to speak just like anyone else. “They want you, and they learned about you through me. You have everything you need. Breathe and concentrate.”
I let my mind drift; let go of the solid world around me. Someone wanted to kill me. Who?
Nothing.
Oh come on.
More nothing.
“Lea, relax.”
“I am.”
A soft snort brushed air across my lips.
“I thought you said they put up blockers so they couldn’t be traced magically?” I said.
“Not by normal witches, or even people like me, usually, but by you? Lea, nothing can block you, just as soon as you realize that.”
I sucked in a breath.
Really?
“Your Grant is looking into whoever could have supplied the information on you. I am right here. No one else knows you’re here. I have magic over the room to block you from sensors. You are safe.”
I don’t know what I did when he said Grant’s name but something must have tensed because his fingers moved up my skull, touch impossibly gentle for someone so strong. He dug into my hair, pulling and rubbing, relaxing the headache I didn’t even know was budding.
“What happened with you two?” he asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Your aura says differently.”
“This isn’t helping me relax.”
He sighed, rubbing harder and making me shiver as my scalp tingled. “Fine.”
I sank deeper as he whispered in Latin, letting his voice be a velveteen backdrop to my wandering mind’s eye.
“Let me in; I’ll help guide you.”
I slammed back to reality.
“Now, you mind your manners,” I said. “You can get in when Grant’s here to make sure you don’t try anything.”
Why did I say that? It just invited a menage a trois joke.
I opened my eyes at his silence.
The hard, solid gold of his made me jolt.
Oh crap! My eyes flew wide and I gripped the leather under me. Why did I say that?
“You really need to learn how to lie,” Carvi hissed, leaning so his eyes were mere inches from mine. “How does Grant know where you are?”
“GPS chip,” I squeaked. “You get kidnapped or go missing enough, your boss apparently springs for the deluxe low-jack. And I really have vanished that many times the past six months. I ran off to help Quil, I didn’t mean to just vanish on them, but my cell was on silent so it seemed that way, then I was kidnaped, and...”
“You’re babbling.” Carvi’s hands engulfed my knees and I shot back into the cushions.
For a guy who didn’t breathe, he sure did a great job of sucking up oxygen molecules.
“Where’s the GPS?” Carvi asked.
“Grant already has the lock on it. He already knows where we are. Him and the guys...”
His hands inched up my legs and I hummed in panic.
“I was asking so I can remove it before we move. I don’t need to be an electronics expert to know someone could hack into whatever computer system is connected to that chip and find you. Especially if they have an informant at the FBI.”
I couldn’t look away. And it had nothing to do with vamp powers.
I licked my lips, trying to coax moisture back into them, my lipstick long gone.
I didn’t even see his hand move before he was cupping my chin, his thumb running over my lower lip.
“Don’t tell me.” His voice was sweet gauze on my ears. “I’ll find it.”
Our noses brushed and he rested his forehead against mine.
“Carvi,” I sighed, “don’t do this. I’m n...” The hand on my thigh tightened, making my eyelids flutter. “Ummmm. Not that strong.”
“Stop trying to be.” His head tilted and he brushed his lips down my neck.
“We’re... supposed... to be working.” My voice hit a level of breathy that would’ve made Marilyn Monroe proud.
His hand ran to the back of my neck and he drew his cheek across mine, probably smearing my blush.
“I’m looking for the chip, remember? This counts as work.”
I could hear the laughter on his tone. His lips pressed the side of my mouth as his hand dragged over my shoulder.
“Ugh,” I grunted as his hand shifted and pinned me back. “It’s under my shoulder. The… the right one. Just under the skin.”
His other hand came up and caressed my right shoulder, fingertips finding the bump in my skin.
“You’ve ruined the game, lea.”
He put his hand over my shoulder and I sucked in a sharp breath as something pricked me.
I flinched.
But nothing else happened.
“Was that it?” I asked.
“It’s out,” he said, holding up the miniscule chip. “We’ll have to move you because of this. We can find an animal to put it on to send anyone who hacks it on a wild goose chase.”
“We don’t want them hurting some poor animal,” I said. “How about we just flush it?”
“Fine.” He held it up and it vanished.
The toilet flushed a moment later.
“What all can you do?” I asked.
“Ohhhhh, lea,” he whispered, leaning back in, running his hands up my arms. “I can do all sorts of things.”
He moved his mouth over mine, barely tickling as he held himself back from a full-blown kiss.
“Come on, Carvi,” I said, “if there ever was a time, this is not it. There’s an assassin after me, and Grant really is going to pound on that door any minute, with backup.”
“You know me. I love an audience.” His hands tightened on me and he drew back, eyes searching mine. “You think I want you just to piss off Aquila, or because I think I can seduce you into working for me. I don’t. I just want you.”
“That is such a line. Y-”
Soft lips crushed mine, forcing them open.
I was surprised my lips didn’t light on fire. He pressed me down, strong hands kneading in harmony with his lips.
My hands finally recovered from their lock down and went to his neck. A chorus of I shouldn’ts ran through my brain and I honestly didn’t know if I was projecting them to Carvi or not.
His breath smelled of spearmint as I inched my mouth open. The pressure lightened as his tongue slid in, like he just remembered he could split my lips or worse with his vamp strength if he wasn’t careful.
My hands wandered over his neck, stroking and tickling before migrating up. I squished his gelled-up spikes and they gave a satisfying cruncck.
His tongue went back and we finished the kiss with a few gentle brushes of hands and lips before drawing apart.
When I opened my eyes, he was staring straight at me again.
“You seem a bit more relaxed now,” he said.
“You jerk,” I whispered when I found my voice.
“You’re just saying that because I’m not being a jerk.” He took my hands from where they’d fallen limply in my lap and kissed them. “Let me in, let me direct you. We’ll find this bastard. And then we’ll finish this.”