Putting the Fun in Funeral

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  “I’ll take the couch.”

  “That doesn’t seem very fair. If you hadn’t gone all caveman and dragged me in here, then you’d be cozy warm and asleep right now with Ajax and me out on the couch.”

  “Trust me. I wouldn’t be sleeping. You’d have been keeping awake.”

  “You slept fine until you started sleep-pawing me,” I pointed out.

  He chuckled. “I’d better get to the couch, or I might start again.”

  “What time is it?”

  He turned and looked at his watch on his nightstand. “Nearly seven.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to go back to sleep,” I said. “Maybe you should stay here and I’ll go—”

  “What?”

  I shrugged. “Watch TV? Or go outside. Ajax is going to need a walk.” I’d love to go running, but I still had to get some clothes and shoes for that. Maybe tomorrow. Today, really.

  Damon just nodded. His lack of protest surprised me.

  “You’re not going to tell me not to go walking by myself? Not that I would be. Ajax is pretty ferocious.”

  “He is. So am I. We’ll both go with you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need a keeper.”

  He picked up one of my hands and kissed my wrist. “Humor me.”

  “You’re not exactly humoring me.”

  He sobered and studied my palm as if he couldn’t bring himself to meet my gaze. “I’m doing my best here, Beck,” he said gruffly. “Everything I am wants to lock you safe inside until I can find the bastards who went after your shop. I’m scared shitless of you getting hurt. I know that’s not reasonable. Even if it was, I know you’d start hating me pretty quick if I tried it. But I need to do something to protect you, especially after seeing that hellhole last night. I’ll go nuts if I can’t.” He lifted his gaze again. His eyes held a primal fire. “So please let me be a pain-in-the-ass bodyguard.”

  He was asking and that meant a lot. I had a feeling if I said no, he’d be stalking me from afar and keeping an eye on me that way. A few days ago, that probably would have infuriated me. Now it felt more like we were a team. He was trying to find a compromise that would make both of us happy. Could I do less?

  Well, yes. But I since I wasn’t actually a bitch, I wasn’t going to.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” he repeated. “Just like that. No arguments?”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “No. Not at all. I may be a little surprised. Shocked. Floored.”

  “I get it.”

  He leaned in and pressed a fast kiss to my lips and then stood. “I’ll get dressed. Maybe I’ll grab a cold shower while I’m at it.”

  Once the bathroom door closed, I fell back onto the bed. My heart was thumping. My head reeled.

  The bathroom door opened, and Damon stepped back into the room. He had a towel around his waist and nothing else. My gaze ran up his muscular legs and stopped where they vanished beneath the white terrycloth. All my hormones kicked up into a whirling storm of desire. I squeezed my eyes shut before I jumped up and ripped away the towel with my teeth.

  “About that date,” he said. “Can we start this morning with breakfast? Coffee? Both?”

  His eagerness turned my insides warm and gooey. I felt feminine. Desirable.

  “Sure,” I said, my voice sounding strangled. “Can you go cover yourself up now? I’m dying here.”

  He laughed and stepped back inside. His towel landed on my legs as the door clicked shut.

  Wicked man.

  Chapter 33

  “I probably should tell you something,” I said as I sipped my coffee.

  Damon and I sat in a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant owned by two extraordinary chefs who’d left the hustle and bustle of San Francisco to settle here. I’d ordered crème brûlée French toast with bacon, of course, and Damon had a lobster hash with eggs over easy. We’d taken a square table in a corner, our knees touching. Every so often, he ran his hand along my thigh.

  “That sounds ominous.”

  “You’d know better than I would. When I met Ben, he told me about this thing called the Proclamation Server. Somebody sent an e-mail announcing my existence and where I live. It came from Aunty Mommy’s e-mail address. That’s how Ben knew where to come find me.”

  “I wondered,” Damon said darkly. He pulled out his cell and started check his e-mail. He scowled and then snorted. “Nice reply.”

  “I thought so. Ben also taught me to shield myself so people couldn’t find me.”

  “I should have done that,” he said grimly.

  “Why didn’t you? No, wait, I know. You’ve been shielding me, haven’t you? So I didn’t need to know how.”

  “It seemed prudent and you didn’t exactly seem willing to let me teach you anything.”

  I grinned and leaned toward him. “I’m willing to let you teach me now,” I said. “Where do you want to start?”

  His eyes flamed and he clenched his fingers on his fork. Lucky for him, he’d punched the cabinet with his off hand, or he’d have had trouble eating. “You’re an evil woman. You know that?”

  I smiled and ran my tongue over my lower lip. “I don’t know what you mean,” I said innocently.

  Without warning, he pulled me close and kissed me. It was hot, quick, and devastating. If I’d been standing, I’m pretty sure I’d have fallen over.

  He pulled back, his eyes locking with mine. The desire in his eyes made me shake.

  “I think you might be the evil one,” I said huskily.

  “Just giving as good as I get.”

  It took me a couple of minutes to cool off enough to remember what we’d been talking about. “Who would have sent that message? And why announce my existence?”

  “I wish I knew. Whoever it was, they wanted to stay anonymous.”

  “Could it be the same person who destroyed my shop?”

  “The timing’s highly coincidental. I just don’t know what the game could be. If they just wanted to out you to the magical world, why attack your place? And why go after your aunt?”

  “You’re saying you think Aunty Mommy’s murder, the vandalism, and the e-mail are all connected?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay. The cop shows always ask who benefits from the crimes. Is there anybody you can think of who does?”

  “Too many.”

  That took me aback. “Seriously?”

  He set down his fork and focused just on me. “Think about it. You and Mason benefit from Adriane’s death. He inherits and you get free of her. Then there are your parents. Her death brings you back into the fold. Until you are twenty-seven, your life is critical to their survival. Then there are Adriane’s enemies. Who knows how many people she’d angered enough to want revenge? There are at least a half dozen that I know of littering her old life. Then there are her business dealings. If she’s dead, do those fall through? Did competitors knock her out of the way?”

  My head had begun to throb. “I get it. That avenue of investigation isn’t going to help us much.” Something occurred to me. “Who benefits from vandalizing my place? I don’t have a lot of competitors, and it’s not a cutthroat business. The whole thing seemed more angry—like a tantrum. Why?”

  Damon gave a little shrug.

  “You still think whoever it was came for me and, when I wasn’t home, they got pissed and tore the place apart.”

  He grimaced. “I did say that someone might be after you.”

  “Aunty Mommy’s killer. That didn’t seem real likely.”

  “And now?”

  “It’s a definitely possibility—depending on why someone killed her. The dumping of the gargoyle on her seems personal. There has to be a thousand better ways to kill someone. This one is symbolic. But of what?”

  We poked at the question for a while but couldn’t come to any concrete conclusions. Hell, we couldn’t come to any semisolid conclusions. I changed subjects.

  “Where could Aunty Mo
mmy have hidden the gargoyle females? She had to have put them somewhere. She never would have crushed them up into gravel. Not if she might have a use for them at some point. Speaking of which, why not use them for guarding somewhere like the males?”

  I felt like I was practically speaking a foreign language. The whole conversation was completely unreal. Gargoyles, for fuck’s sake.

  “It’s risky to force gargoyles into service and requires a great deal of magic. But that magic needs constant renewal—even with a blood binding.”

  “What is that anyway?” I asked, interrupting.

  “It’s a ritual that binds their service for a hundred years. It’s rarely given because it could destroy an entire warren. The females can’t breed without males and may choose to join other warrens. Though gargoyles generally mate for life, a blood binding will take priority, and some females can’t live with that. In this case, it sounds as if the males took the binding to protect the warren.”

  “For eternity. Not a hundred years, either. The females don’t make that sort of binding?”

  He shook his head. “Never. They are the heart of a warren. Its health and safety is their only priority, save for their own children. A blood binding wouldn’t take because they’d never put anything above those two things.”

  “Coercing their males by holding the females hostage wouldn’t sit well with the ladies,” I said. “Especially since that threatens the well-being of the warren. The Wicked Bitch would have had to do something serious to keep them from rioting and fighting back. At the same time, she’d want to preserve them in case they became useful. She’d probably be thinking she could use the males to force the females into temporary service. In the end, she’d have had to neutralize them somehow or find herself at the mercy of a pack of angry gargoyle females.”

  “That’s my guess,” Damon agreed.

  “So where would she put them?”

  “There are couple key requirements. First, natural elements erode magic. So she couldn’t put them outside or drop them in the river. She also wouldn’t put them underground or surrounded by earth. It amplifies their strength. Second, she’d need to recharge her containment spells fairly regularly. Female gargoyles have magical abilities and will fight those spells. Remember, the males said they couldn’t feel their mates, so however they are being held, it involves quite a lot of power.”

  I thought about that. “All right. She needed somewhere out of the weather that she could access regularly. I’m not sure that helps a whole lot.” Or did it? “She’d want total control of the space, which means she’d have to own it. Then she could install security and keep others out.”

  I looked excitedly at Damon. “Maybe she’s got another property we don’t know about. If so, then there has to be records at the courthouse. We should go down there and—” Damn. “It’ll have to be after my employee meeting,” I said, deflating a little.

  “I can go check while you’re at your meeting. It shouldn’t take me long.”

  My brows rose. “I thought you wanted to stay glued to my side?”

  “I do, but you should be safe enough surrounded by your employees in a diner.”

  “You’ll have to take Ajax with you,” I said. “He won’t be able to come inside with me.” Right now the big dog was in Damon’s truck with the windows rolled down.

  “We’ll be fine. I won’t make him bite me again.”

  “Make him?”

  “I was getting loud and angry. He thought I was threatening you. It was my fault.”

  “I don’t think that’s the way it’s supposed to work,” I said. “You weren’t actually threatening me.”

  “After what that poor guy has been through, I can’t blame him. Can you?”

  “Obviously not.”

  He checked his watch then signaled for the waiter to bring the bill. “It’s almost nine-thirty. We should go.”

  We tussled a moment over who should pay the bill.

  “First, this is a date, so I want to pay,” Damon said.

  “Why can’t I?”

  “I asked you out. That’s the way it works. Anyhow, you need to be putting your money into fixing your place. Unless you’re going to let me help you out on that front?”

  I gave an adamant shake of my head.

  “I didn’t think so. I can contribute in this tiny way, so let me.”

  I didn’t argue anymore. On the way out, I realized I should apologize.

  “That wasn’t exactly much of a date. All we did was talk murder and vandalism. Not exactly romantic.”

  “You can make it up to me at dinner.”

  “Are you asking me on a second date?”

  “I’d ask you for a couple hundred right now, but you’d probably think I was being presumptuous.”

  “How’s your hand?” I asked. It had turned purple and was swollen, though he was using it a little.

  “Hurts.”

  “If I agree to go out to dinner, will you heal yourself after?”

  “If you promise not to go wandering off alone.”

  “Deal.”

  Chapter 34

  The diner where I’d asked Kenny to arrange the meeting was about twenty minutes away. Damon pulled up in the parking lot. I petted Ajax and told him to behave then reached for the door handle.

  “Hey,” Damon said huskily then pulled me back to kiss me. One of those toe-curlers.

  When he pulled away, I was breathless again. He smiled with smug satisfaction at my response.

  “You’re entirely too pleased with yourself,” I complained, wishing he’d kiss me again.

  “I won’t lie. It’s sweet as hell to see how I affect you. Gives me hope.”

  “Makes you cocky, is what it does.”

  “That too.”

  He kissed me again and then gently pushed me away. “You’ve got a meeting, and I need to do some research. I’ll be back in an hour or so. If I’m late, wait.”

  “Yessir,” I said with a little salute as I swung open the door. I figured the meeting was going to take more than an hour.

  He pulled away as I went inside the glassed-in outer entry. Another set of doors led into the main lobby. I reached for one of the inner doors and it opened. I found myself face-to-face with Garrett.

  “Beck!” He pulled me into a hug. “I just heard what happened. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. Why would anyone do something so horrendous to you?” He held me away from himself to look at me then frowned. “What happened to you?”

  My cuts and bruises from my trip on the river had faded quite a bit, but the welts from the cuts were still red. “I took a tumble into the river. I’m fine.”

  “You’ve been through hell since I’ve been gone. I’m so very sorry.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. That means a lot.” And it did. While Garrett and I weren’t super close like Jen, Lorraine, and Stacey, I still considered him a friend.

  He smiled. “That’s not the only reason I’m here. I’ve got a check for you. I wanted to bring it right away. You might need some liquid funds right about now.”

  “You’re so sweet. Thank you. I definitely could use it.”

  He reached into the inside pocket of his suit and then frowned. “I left my wallet in my briefcase. It’s in the car. I spoke to Kenny. I know you have a meeting.” He checked his watch as if he were late. “I can run and fetch it. Unless—do you have a moment to come get it?”

  “Sure.”

  We followed the sidewalk along the front of the restaurant around to the side. He was parked in the first slot of the rear parking lot, where the sidewalk dead-ended.

  “How was your trip?” I asked.

  “Quite successful. In fact, I wrapped up so quickly, I returned a few days early.”

  We reached his car. It was a low-slung sedan with dark-tinted windows and four doors. He opened the door of the back seat then bent in to rummage in his briefcase. I glanced up at a couple of crows squawking in the crepe myrtle beside us. Garrett straightened and I turned
to look at him—just in time to get a face full of powder.

  I coughed, inhaling the little gray cloud. Instantly my body turned to pudding. Garrett caught me as I sagged. He opened the front door and put me inside, reclining the seat to help keep me from sliding to the floor. He shut the door and came around to the driver’s side.

  Once inside, he took out a pair of handcuffs and put them on my wrists. I could do nothing to stop him. None of my muscles responded to my commands. I tried to speak, but all I could manage was a little breath of sound.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, patting my leg. “Just relax.” He took my purse and dug inside for my cell phone. He shut it off and then popped out the battery. “There. That will make it harder for anybody to find us.”

  He started the car and slowly drove out of the parking lot. Inside, panic rolled through me. What was he doing? I struggled to make myself speak, to move, anything. I drew on my magic. Nothing happened.

  I was helpless.

  “You probably want to know what’s happening,” he said. “It actually won’t make a lot of sense, but I’ll try. You see, I’ve been looking for you most of my life. Much of my family has. This is the part you won’t understand.” He glanced toward me. “Or maybe you will. Maybe Matrovani and your uncle explained.

  “Your aunt, who pretended to be your mother for your whole life, kidnapped you as a child and disappeared. She left a huge mess behind. My family—the Sandrinis—have long been on the bottom of the ruling families. It wasn’t always that way. But after some devastating illnesses and other unfortunate events, we dropped in the ranks. We’d worked for years to raise our status but hadn’t been able to negotiate business deals or child contracts with anyone in the upper tier. We weren’t able to offer enough advantages and considerations in those contracts.

  “That all changed when my father managed to convince your family—the Wyler Symms—to join us in an investment opportunity. It would have been worth more money than I can say, but more importantly, it would have established the Sandrinis as the only major source of Inua in the world. That’s a substance used in many spells that is difficult to make. We were working on a process of refining it, and with the Wyler Symms’s money and access to their library, we would have succeeded.”