Dangerous Hexes (Driftwood Mystery Book 2)

by A. L. Tyler

  George gave me a long look. Outside, Nick was talking loudly on the phone, but the sound of the kettle whistling blocked him out. I poured the tea and took two mugs to the table.

  “Thanks.” George pulled the mug closer, cradling it between his hands. His lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t suppose you could ignore this whole incident, could you? I know Millie is on the wrong side of the Bleak, but she didn’t have it easy growing up. If they catch her—”

  “She involved me personally,” I said quickly.

  George’s mouth snapped shut. He looked away.

  “We still don’t know what she’s doing,” I explained more gently. “It’s not just you. I promise we will do everything we can for her, but we can’t just drop it. Not until I know that no one else is going to get hurt.”

  I MADE SHORT WORK OF the curse Millie had put on George. He made us promise, more than once, that we wouldn’t divulge anything about Mabe’s murder or his confession about Alex.

  Then he made us swear we’d feed his fish for him.

  As we drove away, I glanced uncertainly at Nick. “Well, that was weird. The guy’s fearing for his life, and he wants to make sure his fish are okay?”

  “People grieve in different ways,” Nick replied stoically.

  “Yeah, I get that,” I said. “But fish? Really? We were talking about the dead love of his life. We were talking about Alex.”

  “We’re talking about a man who was threatened with the death of everyone he knew and loved. He’s lived under that fear for years. It’s quite possible those fish are all he has. Hell, we thought there was a life on the line, and you took a moment to arrange care for your cat. That’s just how people act.”

  Nick cast a cautious glance at me. I closed my eyes and shook my head. He was right, of course. I was used to the criminals, and I was always looking for a hidden motivation.

  Victims were something else.

  “Don’t feel bad,” Nick said. “You’ll learn. Not everyone is out to deceive you.”

  Millie staged the kidnapping. She was the one who had paid his rent and fed his fish. She sent the note to his landlord to alleviate any suspicions, and she had been the one to shuffle his mail to be sure we knew something was off once we got there.

  But what we couldn’t figure out was why.

  “Okay,” I said, my mind still buzzing with unanswered questions. “So, one more time—Millie gets emotional after I screwed Alex out of the Jarvais Topaz and decides she’s taking George Roost into her own hands over Mabe’s disappearance. I get that. Then she finds out that Alex was to blame, so she lets George go. And then three weeks ago she kidnaps him again. She robs a bank, makes sure she gets caught, and points us at the guy she kidnapped claiming he killed her sister when she knows he didn’t. Why?”

  Nick’s eyes were dark as he shook his head. “Because she wanted us out of town, I assume. Gods know what we’re going to go home to.”

  I shot him a long look. “Did you hear something? What did she do?”

  Nick suddenly looked uncomfortable. He shifted his weight.

  “Nick?”

  “Nothing,” he growled. “I’ve asked everyone I could think of.”

  I frowned, feeling sick. He was right. Millie wouldn’t have gone to these lengths to do nothing.

  He stared straight out the windshield. “I told you so.”

  “What?”

  “About Alex. I told you—you didn’t make him that way. He’s a sociopath, and he always has been.”

  I swallowed, nodding, but I looked away.

  He was right. If Alex had murdered Mabe Corm, and I was certain he had, then he’d done it before we were together. Alex had been a murderer the whole time I’d been with him. The cliff I’d dreamed up—the one I pushed him over with my betrayal—had never really existed. I could still feel his arm around my shoulders and his lips against mine in the back of that car...

  Somehow, the knowledge that I’d been able to mistake him for a misunderstood genius wasn’t a great comfort.

  “Do you think he’ll come after George Roost again?” I asked.

  Nick’s eyes stayed fixed on the road. “Do you?”

  I sank further into my seat and tried not to dwell on it. Alex was brutal in his pursuit of anything he wanted. He had deceived me, though, and I felt like I hardly knew anything about him anymore.

  There was one thing I was sure of, though: he could hold a grudge.

  WE DIDN’T TALK MUCH for the rest of the ride. I was trapped with my own thoughts, wondering if Mabe Corm had really been the first victim. Alex might have been killing from a much younger age, which left me wondering exactly how many people he had fooled over the years.

  I wondered if he’d killed anyone while we were together.

  Nick pulled over to give me regular breaks during the day. While it kept me from flaming out in his car, it did set us back in getting home.

  Where, by all accounts, nothing had happened. Yet.

  When night started to fall, Nick pulled into a cheap motel as we crossed the state line.

  “We’re stopping?” I asked.

  He pulled out his wallet as he got out of the car. “You look like you need a break, and we skipped lunch. You should have said something.”

  “I wasn’t hungry.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “And I was distracted. You still need to eat, and you still need to sleep. We’ll crash here tonight and start fresh tomorrow.”

  I hated admitting that I had basic human needs. It felt like whining when I couldn’t keep up with his pace, but I gave him a resolute nod. I didn’t have much of an appetite after thinking about the relationship I’d had with a man who was probably a serial killer.

  I was tired.

  The sky was a brilliant orange as I leaned against the side of the Chevelle, the damp ground mixing with the early smells of grass and pollen. When Nick came back with a key, I followed him to the room, feeling slightly awkward.

  Two beds, and I wasn’t sure why that made it even more awkward in my mind. Nick didn’t sleep, so we really only needed one bed, but one bed meant assumptions.

  I wasn’t sure who would make that assumption about us—everyone from Angel to Marge, apparently—or why I cared, but I did care.

  Two beds. A bathroom arrangement straight out of the eighties with the sink in the bedroom area behind a low half-wall and the bath and toilet behind a door. The dirty green carpet reminded me of Astroturf and the floral wallpaper was peeling. Two double beds dressed in deep purple comforters were separated by a tiny nightstand.

  “Classy.” I glanced over at Nick.

  He was standing still, his face frozen in the same mixed shock and horror I felt. “There was a time.”

  With no luggage to occupy my hands or distract from the situation, I swung my arms. “I’m going to take a bath.”

  Nick gave a small nod.

  We moved at the same time. I went to the bathroom, and Nick scooped up the remote on the nightstand, turning on the television—the only part of our surroundings from the current decade—and sitting on the edge of a bed.

  The bathroom hadn’t been updated, either. As the door clicked shut behind me, I took in the light pink porcelain of the tub and toilet and the spring green tile floor. The shower head was placed just above my eye level.

  I cracked a smile; Nick was going to be showering on his knees.

  But a tub was a tub, and after the day’s emotional trauma, my nerves needed the break. I started the water running and stripped out of my clothes, folding them neatly on top of the toilet before grabbing a towel from the rack.

  I barely got it wrapped around me before the bathroom door opened.

  Chapter 19

  “DO YOU THINK—”

  Nick looked like a doe in headlights. Our eyes met before he backed out and started to shut the door without a word.

  I caught the handle before he could go, trying to think of something witty to break the tension.

  “
I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it.” He refused to look at me. “You don’t have a change of clothes, so of course you’re not going to wear your only set into the bath.”

  “I have a towel,” I said lamely. I tried to act like it wasn’t a weird situation. We had our best conversations when I was in the water. “What were you asking?”

  “It can wait.”

  “It’s fine. Stop making this weird. I don’t really need more anxiety right now.”

  Nick cleared his throat. He still had a white-knuckle grip on the door handle. “I’m just going to...” He pulled the door closed gently, leaving it sitting just shy of completely shut. “There. I was just going to ask... I’ve forgotten what I was going to ask. There’s a diner across the road. What can I get you to eat?”

  “You’re leaving?” I sat on the edge of the tub. The water wasn’t coming out hot enough for my tastes, but that wouldn’t be a problem in a moment. “Nick?”

  My phone rang, and I fished it from the pocket of my pants. I smirked as I put it on speaker.

  “Yes?”

  Nick’s voice was as cool as ever. We were apparently going to ignore what had just happened. “You need to eat. It’s a burger and fries kind of place. Chicken sandwiches are available, but it doesn’t seem like something they do well.”

  I sank into the tub, cocking my head with a smile. “Burger and fries sounds great. Thanks.”

  “Will do. I wanted to ask your opinion on Millie’s attachment to George. Do you think she’s using him?”

  “Huh.” I almost laughed. “Well, she marooned him with a curse on a ley line, so yeah, I think she’s more than willing to use him.”

  “She paid his rent and fed the fish.”

  He had a point. She might have done it for our benefit, but I was guessing not. George mentioned Millie bringing him regular pictures of the aquarium. “She likes him. Because of his relationship with Mabe, maybe? Do you think she was really after a ransom and got cold feet?”

  “That doesn’t explain why she would involve you—of all people—after the fact.” Nick covered the speaker on his phone to order my food. “I’m wondering if this is all about Alex after all.”

  “Like she kidnapped George to get his attention, and then she told us after the fact so that we’d find him before Alex?” I thought it over. “Not if she cared about George. You don’t use people you like as bait. And right after I showed up on the scene? No. You said it yourself—Millie Corm robbing a bank in my town is too many coincidences. If this was all about Alex, then why lie about the necklace? The only reason I can think she lied about that was to buy time on you taking her in, and that means she has something bigger planned.”

  Nick sighed. “You’re right. She’s planning something. This whole thing has been a diversion. I still can’t believe I missed that necklace.”

  I sighed through my nose.

  It all came back to that damn necklace.

  I had missed the details on that necklace. If I hadn’t let her distract me, she might still be in custody now and we wouldn’t be staring at the ax hanging over our heads.

  “I’m really sorry about the necklace, Nick. It won’t happen again.”

  “What’s done is done.” He dropped his voice. “I’m sorry I walked in on you just now. I’ve become a little too comfortable around you.”

  I cringed. The discomfort of the subject was making the water pulse in hot jets around me, and each one rang jarringly in my ears. “There’s enough blame to share. Really, no damage done. Let’s let it go.”

  In the silence that followed, I was afraid he would try to apologize again. My fears were entirely justified.

  “Angel’s right, I think. What we have is an unusual arrangement, and I think I forced it because you were a criminal when we met. I didn’t know if I could trust you behind a closed door. That’s not who you are now, and I need to respect your space.”

  My heart sank. I wasn’t sure if I hated the idea because it came from Angel, or because it went against my own sensibilities, but in either case I wasn’t letting it slide. “Get over it. It helps me think.”

  “It helps you think when I watch you in the bath?” The cut of the sarcasm in his voice was exactly what I needed right then. It wasn’t weird anymore. “Now you’re an exhibitionist? Channeling Millie?”

  “Shut up. You know you like it, too.”

  He breathed a laugh. He was too much of a gentleman to ever admit it out loud. “You do share some similarities with her. I strongly prefer your style over hers, though.”

  I closed my eyes. When he spoke, it gave me something to listen to other than the sound of the magic that was slowly chewing through me. Even the sound of his breathing over the phone was a comfort.

  “I promise I’ll be wearing pants when you get back.” It came out more flirtatious than I intended it to. I felt the heat climb into my cheeks even as the water turned frosty around me.

  Nick came back without hesitation. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I blinked in surprise. It was the same confident tone he’d used the night we first met in an alley behind a bar in Fallvale. I remembered every detail of him that night because I’d shamelessly checked him out. He’d done the same to me, though doubtless he was also checking for weapons and sizing me up before the take down.

  His voice had that same sexy low growl in it, and it made my heart race. He laughed it off, but panic was ringing in my mind.

  For a split second, I’d imagined a less than professional night with him. That couldn’t happen.

  “Is it working?”

  I tried to get my thoughts back on track. “What?”

  “You said this helps you think. Any new ideas?”

  None that I can use. “Sorry. I’m just very distracted. Angel-related.”

  He would buy that.

  We needed a break in this case. I wondered if Millie had bothered to take her gloves off to bathe at Nick’s apartment, because if she had, I might be able to use one of the shower knobs for a locater spell. Of course, that was wishful thinking: she only took the gloves off for dramatic effect. Anyone as good at magic as she was wouldn’t worry about wet clothes, because she could dry them with magic.

  Unlike me, who would probably set shit on fire in the process.

  “Well, just try to focus. You were both convinced away from the Bleak. You were with the same man. You’re both uncommonly talented and exhibitionists. If you were Millie, what would you be up to right now?”

  I’d be falling for yet another bad idea. I heaved a sigh. And lying to you about it.

  Maybe she had touched the necklace, but I doubted it. I thought back to the money she gave Nick to repay her theft at the all-night breakfast place where we first met... Had she touched it? That was long gone anyway. Nick had left it as a tip.

  Stupid necklace. Stupid fifty bucks and a necklace.

  My eyes shot wide open. The whole time, we’d been focused on the necklace, but that wasn’t the only thing she’d stolen.

  The necklace was her lie. George was her diversion.

  And now I had to wonder, what was so special about that fifty-dollar bill? And more specifically—if Millie and I were that similar—who was she trying to track with it?

  Chapter 20

  I STARTLED AT THE SOUND of a car door slamming, sitting bolt upright in the bed and instinctively raising both glowing fists away from the sheets. The news was on the television with the volume turned all the way down. It cast a shifting glow over the room as my senses returned.

  The hotel room. George Roost. Nick.

  I glanced over and saw him standing at the sink. His hair was wet from the shower and he hadn’t pulled a shirt on yet. In the mirror, I saw his eyes dart away as I noticed him watching me.

  I closed my fingers into fists, focusing on the urgent thump of the music they emitted, coaxing it quieter and quieter until the threat was gone. My arms were feverishly hot to the elbow, but as mana burn went, it wasn’t a bad epis
ode.

  I wiped the sweat from my brow as I read the closed captions on the news, but my eyes eventually drifted back to Nick. I made him nervous and I knew it.

  He was combing his hair back and putting on deodorant. I wasn’t sure if I should pretend he wasn’t half-naked or if I should dutifully look away and pretend he wasn’t there. Both options felt weird.

  Nick was right. We were getting too comfortable around each other, and now our friendship was entering an uncomfortable gray area.

  He turned and the light coming from the bathroom hit on his muscular physique. He had to know I was watching him, but the scars caught my eye and I couldn’t look away.

  The pale lines dragged all the way from his shoulder to the bottom of his ribs.

  “Werewolf.” Nick didn’t look at me. He produced a razor and started to shave. I wasn’t sure if he’d run out to buy a grooming kit or if he traveled with one—probably the latter, given his line of work—but I made a mental note that I should probably start keeping some basics in my bag.

  “Sorry,” I said sheepishly.

  “It’s fine,” he said dismissively. “That’s the job. You should know.”

  I intended to look away, but something else caught my eye. “Are those—?”

  “Arcanthien circles. Yes, they are.”

  I cocked my head. “They are not. The last Arcanthien died more than thirty years ago.”

  “And as you like to note, I’m old. They were a gift for something I did off the books.” He saw me staring and held my gaze for a moment. He nodded. “Come on. You know you want to look.”

  I leapt off the bed with embarrassing speed. I tried to remain a respectable three feet away from him, but it was a challenge not to touch the markings. They were barely visible tracings on his skin, raised like delicate welts in a woven pattern reminiscent of a Celtic knot in three overlapping six-inch circles on his left side.