by Sara DeHaven
Her long hesitation gave her away anyway, so she answered honestly, voice coming back to her as her fear of some immediate freak out from Leander faded. “Yes, to a certain extent. But only to try to see if there’s a way to get rid of them, or at least get them to stop pushing people into bad acts.”
“And is this something you’re doing with Daniel?”
Her sense of panic sprang at her again like a panther leaping for her throat. I have to protect Daniel, was her first frantic thought, closely followed by Leander will know if I tell him an outright lie. “Daniel is helping me, yes. He's been monitoring me, and we’ve been taking it slow. I don't want to get demon burned.
"But Leander, what we’re doing is important!” she continued passionately. She had to convince him, had to get him on board. It was the only alternative, because she certainly wasn’t capable of killing him to ensure his silence. “We know it’s risky, we know that maybe it’s arrogant to think we might succeed where so many other people have failed. But just think what life might be like without demons in the world! I know people are capable of great evil on their own, but you know how possessions make people worse. I’m sure it doubles or triples the amount of bad things that people do to each other. Not to mention that hosts can take permanent damage from a possession or get killed by them. Look, we’re taking every care not to be corrupted by demons. We’re keeping contacts brief, we’re monitoring for effects. And we are getting somewhere, Leander, we really are. We’ve already learned things about demons I don’t think they’ve ever disclosed before.”
“You are quite the little knight in shining armor, aren’t you?” Leander said with an amused, tender look. “Riding to the rescue of all humanity.” His hand shifted from where it still rested on her shoulder from the read. His thumb moved to trace the line of her jaw, causing a little shiver to move through her, part nerves, part pleasure. It came to her then that she had to stop this line of questioning. If he directly asked whether Daniel was a Demon Master, it would be a very bad thing. She knew Daniel didn’t trust Leander. Given what Leander had seen with his own eyes, she had no choice but to try to trust him. That caress of her face, the tenderness in Leander’s voice, gave her the inspiration she needed about how to divert him.
“And do you need rescuing Leander? Shall I rescue you as well?” she asked softly, moving her own hand in a sensuous caress of his cheek. A part of her was dissolving in hysterical laughter deep inside. She was no Mata Hari, no seasoned seductress. This would never work.
But it did work. “Please do,” Leander whispered back, and in one smooth move, he shifted forward, put a hand behind her neck, and drew her down to him for a lingering, deep kiss.
Bree tried to surrender herself to it. Leander was a very attractive man and, as she was discovering, a good kisser. His tongue thrust firmly but slowly into her mouth, then retreated, inviting her to follow, and after a nice interlude of that teasing dance, he pulled back just enough that he could nibble and pull at her upper lip, then her lower. His hand on her hip pulled her closer, then maneuvered her until she was sitting sideways on his lap. One hand traced it’s way up her side as they kissed, up under her vest and along her blouse, then ran lightly over the outer edge of her breast, causing an involuntary in drawing of her breath.
She rested her hand on his bare chest, then allowed it to travel up across his shoulder, moving his shirt off it. She pulled away from his mouth and bent over his neck, kissing and nibbling her way gently down its slope to his shoulder. She was getting turned on even though she was stunned and horrified at what she was doing. Just how far was she going to take this? Was she going to sleep with this man in order to protect Daniel? And what then? Pillow talk that put her right back in the situation she had just manipulated her way out of? She had to get out of this somehow before all that happened. She was distracted as Leander pulled her back up to him for another kiss, then mimicked her route, kissing down her neck and across the top of her shoulder. Lord, it felt good. She pressed against him in response without conscious volition. She almost resented it when her busy brain came up with a workable escape route. With definite reluctance, she made her body stiffen up and pulled away from Leander’s questing mouth. “Wait, Leander wait!” she gasped in a not entirely feigned voice of interrupted, breathless desire. “I’m just, I can’t,” she stuttered, then scrambled off his lap and backed away from him. “I’m sorry, I just, I can’t go there right now. Not so quickly.”
“It’s okay,” Leader soothed. He stood up slowly, but didn’t move closer. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
She folded her arms and looked away from him in embarrassment. She deliberately brought to mind all the real, true reasons she didn’t want to go to bed with Leander right now. She had to be honest to be convincing. “It’s not that anything’s wrong exactly. It’s just that, well, things with Daniel, they’re not really settled. I haven’t slept with him or anything, we’re not a couple. But there’s something between us, and it’s unresolved. And I’m just not the person to be with two men at the same time. Even though I’m not really with him. Oh, I don’t know how to explain it!”
And she really didn’t, she reflected wryly, not to herself, not to anyone. She couldn’t be more honest than that. “And besides,” she blurted out, “I haven’t slept with anyone since my husband died.”
“My poor, dear Bree,” Leander crooned. He crossed the distance between them and raised a hand a gently pushed some hair that had escaped her braid away from her face. “I’m not going to rush you into anything. I don’t want you to feel conflicted about being with me.” His hand dropped and he smiled wistfully down at her. “Naturally, I hope you decide it’s not going to work with Daniel and you’re willing to see if there’s something between us. You intrigue me, very much. And, in case you didn’t notice, I desire you very much as well.”
In spite of herself, Bree was moved by Leander’s words. If she were as interested in him as she was pretending, it would have been exactly what she would have wanted to hear. Of course, on the other hand, she wasn’t entirely pretending. It appeared there might be more to Leander than the insouciant ladies man he seemed on the surface. As she considered her response, he went on.
“About the other thing. I meant it when I said I wasn’t going to run to the Ecclesias. I hear what you’re trying to do with the demon research, and I guess I trust that your intentions are good. In fact, I’d like to help you, in any way I could. But I would like to know more about it, to make sure I’m making the right choice in that.”
“I can understand that,” Bree conceded. “And I will tell you more, only not tonight, okay? I don’t think I can handle anymore tonight. I’m totally wiped, and I’m confused and not at all sure I’m thinking clearly. In fact, I think it’s best if I go home. Hopefully, the cops have dispersed the riot by now and it’ll be possible to get back to the where my car is.”
“I’ll drive you there,” Leander reassured her. To her great relief, he led the way first out of the bathroom, and after retrieving their coats, out of the apartment. And he didn’t question her any further on the drive back to the restaurant. He had to take the long route down the waterfront, up and around Pike Place Market, then back down south in order to avoid going through the center of Pioneer Square. He pulled up to the load/unload zone in front of the restaurant and put his car in park, but didn’t turn it off. He turned to face her as she undid her seat belt. “Call me?” he said hopefully to her as she reached for the door latch.
On impulse, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll call you,” she assured him, and got out the car. The valet from the restaurant came out to greet her, and Leander pulled away.
As she waited for her car to be brought around, wilting in emotional and physical fatigue, she reflected that this had been one of the strangest days of her life. Having her first actual date in years, being embroiled in a riot, nearly getting killed, calling a demon to possess her, risking everything by openly casting out d
emons without an exorcism ritual, and deliberately seducing a man in order to keep Daniel’s secrets. Thinking of Daniel made her flush in shame. She knew just what he’d think of her kissing Leander Rayne. There he was, fighting the fight of his life in solitude, battling to keep his sanity, trying to keep her from risking herself in a bid to help him, and here she was, going out on a date and making out with a man Daniel clearly didn’t like or trust. And she knew without a doubt how she'd feel about Daniel kissing someone else. She'd hate it with every fiber of her being.
She had meant the meeting with Leander to be another friend date, like the last one, she told herself defensively. In fact, she’d planned on making those boundaries clear with him over the course of the night. But she had to admit to herself that she hadn’t completely ruled out the idea of dating Leander if, at some point, it was clear nothing could happen with Daniel.
How much clearer could that be? she asked herself desolately. Really, what were the chances that Daniel could actually stay stable? What if he could only accomplish that by continued solitude? Still, she hadn’t wanted to complicate things further right now by pursuing a romance of any kind with Leander. And now look what she’d done. Her mood, already chancy, crashed completely. Now all she needed was to get home to find Keepers awaiting her, ready to drag her off to the Ecclesias on suspicion of being a Demon Master. Just because she hadn’t seen any Keepers tonight didn’t mean some Keeper hadn’t seen her. She glumly decided there was nothing she could do about that now. If she’d been nailed, she’d been nailed. She wasn’t going to leave town in fear of something that might not happen, so she’d just have to deal with whatever way it turned out.
The valet pulled up in her car, and she tipped him and climbed into the driver’s seat. It was a long, weary drive home.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bree felt depressed much of the next day, more so than she had felt in a very long time. It was Sunday, and it was an unusually warm, sunny day. She took a brief tour of her garden in the morning, seeing the hopeful green leaves of bulbs emerging everywhere. There were quite a lot of daffodils of every kind, the bravely yellow stalwarts and the more delicate white variety, and the tulips were sending up green buds on long stalks.
Hanroi followed her around, dashing by at full speed, then coming back to her, scratching at the grass playfully, and making a few predatory jumps into the garden beds, making Bree wince as some new growth got trampled. She’d hoped getting outside would lift her spirits, maybe get her in the mood to do some gardening, but apart from a few brief smiles at Hanroi’s antics, it didn’t really do the trick.
She went back inside and turned on the TV news. She couldn’t seem to help morbidly going over and over reports on last night’s riot in Pioneer Square. Ten were dead, including two police officers, and many more injured. There had been a smaller, similar incident in the University District as well. None dead there, but a good bit of property damage and looting. The mayor was promising more police on the streets in neighborhoods where there had been trouble. There’d been complaints of police brutality, and some bystander had gotten video footage of at least one such incident.
She kept having the grim feeling that life as she knew it was ending. Riots, looting, murder in the streets; this was not her city, the city she loved. This was the sort of thing that happened somewhere else in the world, somewhere they didn’t have a stable government, where there was overwhelming poverty and political unrest. Countries where there were no Keepers and demons could possess people at will, without interference.
She finally cut herself off from the news after an hour, but the silence in her house wasn’t an improvement. It left her thinking about Daniel, about Leander, about her actions last night. Nothing seemed to be going right. She almost called Gelsenim out of loneliness and a desire for some distraction, but decided those weren’t good enough reasons.
She was invited for dinner at Bruce and Sophie’s house, along with Kevin, Steve, and Hunter, and she came close to canceling, not wanting to spread her foul mood. As the time approached, however, she realized she did want to see her friends. And besides, it was very likely she’d feel better for it. She finally got out of her sweats and took a shower. She left the house with hair still damp and hanging free, as by that time she was running too late to spend more time on it.
She was the last to arrive. Bruce answered the door, his seven year old nephew Brendan, a golden haired, brown eyed stocky little boy, hanging off of him. He and Sophie had obviously pulled babysitting duty for Bruce’s sister Hannah. Hunter was close behind, already talking a mile a minute. Bree gave Bruce a brief hug hello, then allowed Hunter to pull her into the living room where he and Brendan had been playing with legos.
“And see, Bree, here’s the fire station. I made that. And Brendan made that house, and this one, it’s a garage, like where you take your car to get fixed. It’s a small town like where Grandma and Grandpa Vilchek live, because we don’t have enough legos to make a big one.”
Bree obediently squatted down and admired the construction. There were some small cars and trucks scattered about as well. Brendan, more shy than Hunter, was running a tiny orange Mustang with great concentration along the carpet and into his ‘garage,’ which was a multi-colored lego square about five bricks high without a roof. She could hear the sound of talking and laughing from the kitchen, but she was enjoying hanging out with the boys and wasn’t in a hurry to join the adults. Hunter’s green eyes sparkled and his little hands gestured expressively as he described his building project. He’d recently gotten a haircut, and his silky brown bangs were shorter than usual.
She had known Hunter since Kevin and Steve had adopted him as an infant, and had often served as chief baby sitter when his Dads needed a date night as neither of them had family in town. She adored Hunter, and was glad to see him behaving so normally. His abduction last fall had been a great trauma, and while she was told he still had a heightened fear of strangers, overall, he seemed to have recovered well. Bruce eventually made his way out to Bree holding two glasses of wine and offered one to her, which she gratefully took. He sat down on the couch, and momentarily, Brendan was leaning up against Bruce’s leg, proffering a car and asking his uncle what kind it was.
“That, little man, is a Porsche. That is one fast car.”
“Hunter, this is a Porsche!” Brendan announced importantly. Hunter came over to have a look, and Bree moved to sit next to Bruce on the couch. In a moment, Kevin came out and joined them, taking a seat in the bright red chair to their left. “Sophie and Steve have things well in hand. I’ve been informed that those who love to cook don’t welcome input from those who merely love to eat.” He patted his rounded stomach comfortably as he spoke. “And I do love to eat. There’s some baba ghanouj and vegetables in there, Bree, if you need a nosh.”
“I’m good for the moment,” she reassured him. Hunter paused in his play to clamber up onto Kevin’s lap. “Daddy, Bree was sad before, but now she feels better. I told her about my fire station, and she said it was aventive.”
“I suspect you mean ‘inventive,’ son,” Kevin replied as he shot Bree a speculative look. Hunter was a budding Reader, and was prone to making these sudden, awkward announcements on the emotional state of those around him.
“Yeah, inventive.” He hopped back down and joined Brendan again.
“So what’s up?” Kevin asked Bree, concern evident on his face. She rolled her eyes in the direction of the boys playing on the floor and said, “Oh, you know, just a bit of a down day.”
Kevin got the hint and dropped the subject, asking Bruce instead about his new computer at work. Kevin was a programmer, and Bruce a moderately geeky user, so the conversation soon went over Bree’s head and well beyond her interest level. She wandered out into the kitchen where Sophie was busy frying up falafel while Steve chopped tomatoes and cucumbers.
Bree helped herself to veggies and dip while she caught up on the news with her two friends. Steve had just gotte
n an exciting new contract to design a waterfront home for a high level Microsoft executive. He was an architect with a specialty in green design, and it was just the sort of project he loved best: Contemporary, great views, and a client with a strong interest in using sustainable and recycled materials. Sophie had recently delivered a baby to a couple who wanted a whole community of friends to be present providing chanting and drumming. As she removed some of the falafel patties with a slotted spoon and put them into the oven to keep warm, she said, “Hey, you know I’m all for whatever makes the mother happy. And I personally am a big fan of drumming and chanting. But eighteen hours of it? Non-stop? I could not get to sleep last night for almost two hours because those frigging’ chants just kept rolling over and over in my head!” She smiled as she said it, though.
Listening to her friends talk about the details of their week was tremendously soothing. Bree didn’t feel much like talking herself, but she could feel her sadness and anxiety lifting even further as she watched Sophie and Steve finish putting together the Middle Eastern themed feast.
Although Sophie and Bruce had a dining room, it was the sort of space that was seldom used for the purpose for which it was designed. The dining table currently held a stack of mail and Sophie’s laptop, as well as a scattering of books. Instead, the adults would be eating at the table in the kitchen, and the two boys, at their own request, were arranged cross-legged in front of the coffee table in the living room. Sophie dished out some mac and cheese for the boys, along with some carrot sticks and peas, as both had strongly declined the majority of what the adults were having. Bree and Steve helped settle the boys with their food, then returned to the kitchen, which was down the hall from the living room, at the back of the house. This provided some privacy for the adult’s discussion, but it did mean that someone had to get up periodically and look in on the kids.
The dinner started convivially enough, with more little bits of personal happenings, but inevitably, turned to news of the wider world. “It’s bizarre, isn’t it?” Sophie complained between bites of falafel. “I just can’t wrap my head around the idea of the riots and the looting happening. You know, in a way, I can get the riots. People can get crazy in a crowd, people bump each other, get violent, all that. The looting almost freaks me out more. Obviously, the violence is worse by far, but there’s something so, I don’t know, post-apocalyptic about people just bashing in store windows and taking what they want.”