Hot Trick (A Detective Shelley Caldwell Novel)

by Patricia Rosemoor

  “Both.”

  “Thank God,” I whispered, as he handed me the bundle—twenty-some pounds of freaked-out cats. I hugged them to me and took the first normal breath since I’d awakened. “It’s going to be all right.”

  At that moment, I knew. He’d done the unthinkable for me, had put himself in danger for me and I loved him for it. My throat closed. I loved him. My chest squeezed until it hurt. I really did.

  I need to tell him…

  Then Jake climbed outside onto the fire stairs and I saw his sleeve had been burned. The breath caught in my throat once more. He flinched when I moved the material aside to expose a patch of raw flesh.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  But I could see it was. He’d been burned saving my cats. For me. “Paramedics are here,” I said as a crash came straight through the apartment. “You need help.”

  A stream of water doused the fire and several figures encased in black rubber stepped through the smoke.

  “It’ll heal fast enough,” he reminded me. One of those vampire benefits he’d inherited.

  But would it heal fast enough to avoid suspicion?

  A fireman stuck his head through the opening. “Anyone still inside?”

  “All accounted for,” I told him.

  “Do you know how it started?”

  I shook my head. “Most likely, someone just tried to kill me.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  After the fire had been put out and Jake had come up with a semi-plausible explanation about the brick being broken out by the arsonist, after I’d been checked out by a paramedic and had given a vague story about what had happened to the uniforms, the fire department’s investigator and the investigators from the CPD Arson and Bomb Squad, I landed at Jake’s place.

  It was go there or move in with Silke or Mom, neither of which was an option, and the reason I didn’t call them. Jake would get what he wanted, if not in the way he wanted. I would have liked this to be my decision also. I tried to relax, to tell myself that fate had intervened for a purpose…and that everything would work out.

  As it was, I’d been given three days leave to get my life in order. If the investigation proved the fire had been a murder attempt, I would be forced to take more leave and accept a new relationship with a shrink who could keep me off the job indefinitely.

  And that would be without me telling everything I knew or thought I knew. No way was I going to go on the record about banshees or mages. I couldn’t tell anyone in the department about magic spells or magicians who could enter dreams. Not without ruining my career.

  Nothing was worth that.

  Not even Jake?

  That was the question. The thing he believed—that I didn’t love him because of the accident of his birth. His being half vampire didn’t stop me from wanting or needing him, but I admitted it had kept me on guard.

  Dealing with the supernatural had gotten me into a fine mess professionally.

  I planned to work the case on my own and hopefully nail the murderer before the arson investigation was completed.

  Not that I said so to Jake. Yet.

  Jake wasn’t ready to hear it. He was unapproachable and burned with an anger I didn’t quite understand. I’m sure his fear of losing me had a lot to do with it. But something else was bugging him.

  Once I got settled in, it would be time for a talk, for both of us to lay our cards down on the table.

  For me to finally say the L-word.

  Jake lived in a transitional neighborhood west of the Loop, about a half mile closer to civilization than the building he was thinking of buying. The street was still pretty scary at night, but Jake was scarier. No one messed with him or his property. He’d bought a rundown graystone two-flat and had been renovating it himself. The windows on the first floors were still boarded up, while the windows on the second had shutters or heavy draperies to keep out the sun. As we went up the stairs, the faint scent of lemon oil lingering on the wood trim, I wondered what made him consider leaving the place he’d been renovating to his own taste.

  Me? Was that it? The apartment he’d showed me had so much light it had surprised me. But he wanted me to be happy. He was willing to make sacrifices for me. Willing to risk his life, I acknowledged, following him into the apartment.

  Living on the second floor, Jake used the dining room as his main room, perhaps because it was naturally darker than the east-facing front room. Or maybe it was simply that the entrance led to it. A carved wooden mantle framed the ceramic-faced fireplace and the deep red suede of the sofa had a mellow glow in the dim light. The room might be a bit spartan—sofa, upholstered chair, a low table with the single lamp and an antique liquor cart—but it was comfortable.

  “I’ll let you do the honors,” he said, indicating the wriggling pillowcase. Pitiful meows escaped the fabric. “I’ll set up the litter and cat food on the back porch.”

  I sat in an armchair, still hugging the sheltered cats to my chest.

  “Thanks. I mean that in the biggest, most grateful way possible, Jake. I know what it cost you to go after these guys.”

  “You love them. That’s enough reason.”

  My heart practically melted in my chest as I watched him carry the kitty supplies we’d bought on the way home down the hall. The cats had never come near him, so he had no reason to be fond of them, but he’d rescued them anyway. For me. I peeked into the pillowcase. Making little mewling noises, Sarge and Cadet hugged together and stared up at me wide-eyed.

  “It’s going to be all right,” I assured them, dropping the edges of the pillowcase so I could touch them, one cat for each hand.

  They vibrated but they weren’t purring. Peering around at the unfamiliar surroundings, they continued to be afraid. I lightly stroked them, but I didn’t bind them to me. Cadet left my lap first, followed by Sarge. They slinked through the room, checking it out, staying under furniture for protection.

  I watched them until I became aware of another set of eyes on me. Jake’s. One hip wedged against the hall doorjamb, he was focused, his expression dark and brooding.

  “I’m okay,” I assured him.

  “For how long?”

  I could feel his tension reach out to me. I moved to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. My head fit in the shelter of his shoulder and chin. Even from there I could hear his heartbeat speed up as he wound his arms around my back and pulled me closer.

  “I warned you Sebastian was dangerous,” he said.

  “You don’t know that he’s responsible for the fire.”

  Although I’d come to the same conclusion, I wondered if it wasn’t too easy. Why would he open himself to an arrest?

  “Last night, I went to Sebastian’s loft when he wasn’t there and couldn’t get in.”

  “You what?” I pulled back to meet Jake’s serious gaze. “Why would you do that?”

  “I wanted to find out exactly who he was…but a spell on the windows and door kept me out. Just like the one that kept you in at your place.”

  My pulse rushed as I realized the enormity of the implication. Sebastian had entered my dream and I’d rejected him. The next I knew my apartment was on fire and I couldn’t get out because of the spell on the exits.

  A spell like one he’d put on his own loft.

  Did he really want me dead if he couldn’t have me?

  Or, when he couldn’t win me over, had he decided to get rid of me before I nailed him for the murders?

  Part of me could believe it, but doubt nagged me.

  I realized Jake didn’t know everything I did. Or everything I feared. Now would be the time to share. Beyond time. The magic stuff in general wouldn’t surprise him, but how did I tell Jake that Sebastian had been trying to seduce me in my dreams?

  Feeling a darkness in him that disturbed me, I decided to avoid that topic a little while longer.

  Instead, I asked, “What did you think you were going to find at the loft?”

>   “The day we were both there, I saw a photo on his desk through the window. A photo of me as a kid.”

  “What? Why would Sebastian have a photo of you? And why didn’t you say anything?”

  “You weren’t particularly approachable after I followed you, if you remember. And I needed time to think about it. To figure it out myself.”

  Jake was pacing now as if trying to walk off the negative energy consuming him.

  “All right. So you went to Sebastian’s place. But you didn’t get in?”

  “I did when he got home.”

  “And?”

  “I learned that after my mother pushed my father out of our lives to protect him, he went to Sebastian’s mother, a powerful sorceress, for help in finding us. Only Sebastian’s mother was taken with him…and Sebastian was the result.”

  “The result…” My pulse accelerated. “You’re saying he’s your brother?”

  “We have the same blood running through our veins. But I’m no brother to him, Shelley. He never got over our father leaving them to find my mother and me. He hates me and he’s out for revenge. He means to take away the only person I love so that I suffer the way he did.”

  The way Jake was looking at me moved me to near tears. “That’s not going to happen,” I said, slipping my arms up around his neck. “He can try, but he can’t destroy what I feel for you.”

  “Which is?”

  I kissed him to express my feelings the best way I knew how. I ran my hands down his chest. His flat stomach sucked in even further. By the time I got to the front of his jeans and undid his zipper, he was hard for me.

  And then Jake took control, his hands sending heat through every part of my body. Before I knew it, he’d stripped me of my slacks and pushed me up against a wall. I spread my thighs and guided him inside me. I was ready for him and easily slid down his length. He splayed both hands under my butt and lifted, and I wrapped my legs around his thighs.

  I clung to him, feverish with lust but equally determined to quell his anxiety.

  “This is where I belong,” I murmured, my lips brushing his ear. “This is where I want to be. With you.”

  I’d thought of telling Jake about the dreams. But how could I do that now? He was already upset. Unsure of me. I could feel it.

  I could feel other effects too. As always, Jake made love with intensity and creativity. He carried me to the sofa and draped me over the back so that he was still standing as he made me come the first time…

  To my shock, he came as well. He’d never let go so quickly before, other than in the loft the day before. Rather than continuing, he helped me to my feet. I slid my arms around him again. I could hear the quickened beat of his heart, but he stood there stiffly.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Sebastian?”

  I tensed. “Tell you what?”

  “Has he been entering your dreams?”

  My heart began to pound. “He told you that?” I should have told him myself.

  “He said it was only a matter of time before he had you in the flesh.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it? Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

  “I didn’t think it was what you would want to hear.”

  He stared at me so hard I could feel him brushing at my mind. I couldn’t help it, I closed myself off from him. I didn’t want him to know that I’d had a few helpless moments in those dreams.

  “The only man I want is you, Jake.”

  I was trying to figure out how to smooth things over with him when my cell rang.

  He stepped away from me. “You’d better get that. It’s undoubtedly work-related.”

  I wanted to argue, to tell him we were more important, but I had to see who was calling. I dug the cell out of my pants pocket. A glance at the caller ID made my heart fall.

  “Brogan, what have you got?”

  Of course I already knew.

  “They’ve started up again. Visions of another murder.”

  “So soon?” The last victim had died less than twenty-four hours ago, a mere two days after the first murder.

  “I wouldn’t be scheduling it,” Brogan said. “I would only be seeing it.”

  “Where are you? Let’s do this in person. Your place,” I said, wanting to know where to find him. “And clear your schedule for the indefinite future.”

  “I’m not at home,” Brogan said. “But I can meet you in the park.”

  “Which one?”

  “Millennium Park. Near the Bean.”

  I agreed, told him I would meet him at the sculpture—really, the Cloud Gate—in half an hour. Then I faced Jake, whose features were pulled into an expression of disapproval.

  “You should be resting, Shelley, not chasing banshees around the city.”

  “This banshee is going to help me stop another murder.”

  “It’s Norelli’s case.”

  “Technically.”

  “And you’re on leave.”

  “Also technically. But you know I can’t just walk away.”

  “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  “I’m trying to stop a murderer. If this is going to work between us, Jake, you have to accept that a certain amount of risk comes with the job.”

  “You get off on the risk.”

  “I do get satisfaction in nailing the bad guys.”

  “But you thrive on the excitement. On the chase. On waiting alone on a rooftop for a murderer to show.”

  So he was angry with me for that too. He was correct, of course. When I was into the chase, it was all that mattered. But wasn’t it supposed to be like that? Cops had to be focused, willing to take risks to see justice done.

  “How was I supposed to tell anyone how I knew that was going to happen?” I asked. “How do you think banshees and mages would go over in the department? They took my job away from me last spring after that victim disappeared. If I ever told the truth about what really happened, about vampires…that would be it for me. You know I’m right. I have to deal with this myself because I can’t be open about anything preternatural.”

  “You could have told me.” He shook his head. “But maybe not. Maybe because I’m one of those preternatural creatures, you can’t be open about our relationship. Is that it, Shelley? Is that why you can’t commit?”

  Not wanting to get into this now, I said, “We’re not talking about us.”

  “Aren’t we? Am I not part of the world you’re trying to hide from everyone else?” he demanded. “Aren’t you trying to hide our relationship? Because you’re embarrassed by me?”

  Taking a deep breath was becoming impossible. I had to focus, had to stop the next murder.

  “Embarrassed? No!”

  “Then it’s because you don’t trust me.”

  “Of course I trust you.”

  “If you trusted me, you would have told me about Sebastian entering your dreams. But you only trust what you know. And for some reason, you’ve chosen not to really know me.”

  With each accusation, I felt myself close off from him. I wanted to tell him he was wrong. But was he?

  “Let’s save this discussion for later.”

  “Discussion? You call this a discussion?”

  “Please, Jake. I need to clean up and change and get going.” Luckily I had a drawer in his dresser and a few hangers with clothes in his closet. “I don’t have time for this now.”

  “What else is new?”

  Thankfully, Jake didn’t try to stop me. I went right past him, gathered fresh clothes and headed for a fast shower. I had to get the smell of smoke off me. Ten minutes later, I was ready to rock and roll, hoping Jake would drop me off at the park and give me a chance to soothe his anger. But he was nowhere to be found.

  He’d walked out on me…on us…

  Trying not to choke on that, I whistled for the cats and made over them until they purred—not to mention made me feel better—then brought them t
o their new food dishes and litter box on the back porch. I left them there, munching out like they were starving.

  When I hit the street, I started walking. No taxis in this neighborhood. I’d have to catch a bus east toward the lakefront. Luckily one arrived as I reached the corner.

  I ran for it past a couple of guys who were obviously gang members. One reached out for me and the look I gave him froze his hand in midair.

  “Smart move,” I muttered as I flagged down the bus.

  A ten-minute ride seemed like forever. I couldn’t put Jake to the back of my mind. The escalating argument between us would have to be addressed sometime soon. I’d avoided digging into my own feelings because I feared the consequences. He’d been right, of course, about my having difficulty with his vampire side. Not that it bothered me directly. But no one else could know about it.

  Which made me feel as if I were living a lie.

  The bus took me through the Loop, right to the park. Despite the dinner hour, it was still filled with tourists awed by the Crown Fountain, two fifty-foot glass block towers at each end of a shallow reflecting pool. The towers projected video images of Chicagoans, footage shot so that the fountain’s water flowed out of their open mouths. Modern-day gargoyles.

  As I jogged over to the Bean, I checked my watch. Thirty-seven minutes.

  “You’re late,” Brogan said from behind me.

  I whipped around. “Public transportation.”

  “Oh, you poor dear.” He shook his head, as though glad he didn’t have to rely on the CTA.

  Did banshees teleport?

  “Let’s find a little privacy,” I said, looking around. “Not many people over there.”

  I led him into the garden area and found a nook with a bench. Someone might walk by, but I would have to take that chance unless I wanted to waste more time.

  “So tell me,” I said without preamble.

  “Give me a moment to warm up.”

  Brogan cleared his throat and stretched his muscles as if he had a sudden case of stage fright. Then he lowered his head and hummed. When his head lifted, his eyes rolled back, whites showing, sending a chill through me.

  “Can’t breathe…” he said hoarsely, a long moan escaping him “Choking on smoke…”