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Prince Charming Doesn’t Live Here

Page 23

by Christine Warren

Danice opened to mouth to ask what the heck Rosemary had been smoking that she didn’t remember being teleported to another dimension and back, but Mac stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “Don’t,” he murmured, leaning close so Rosemary wouldn’t overhear. “It’s a coping mechanism of the human mind. It’s what makes people who’ve seen Lupines in the city convince themselves they were only big Siberian huskies, or homeless guys with really bushy beards. Since she probably wasn’t aware of the existence of The Others before Dionnu, her mind is working to fit everything that happened into a frame that makes sense. The Fae and other dimensions don’t exist, therefore that can’t be what she saw or where she went.”

  He helped Danice into her jacket and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her against him as they began to trail Rosemary up 6th toward First Avenue.

  “But that’s insane,” Danice protested in a low whisper. “I mean, what does she think that is?” She pointed toward the small red figure of Quigley strolling along the curb, parallel to them but partially concealed by the shadows of parked cars.

  “She probably hasn’t even noticed him, and if she does, she’ll think it’s someone’s weird pet. A monkey or something. The human mind is a pretty amazing thing.”

  Danice snorted. “It would have to be. But since we are speaking of the monkey at the moment…” She looked back at Quigley. “I owe you a thank-you for helping Mac tackle the lunatic, you little turd, but I don’t want you to think it means I’m forgiving you for your part in this enormous mess. You were Tyra’s spy the whole time. She had you keeping an eye on Rosemary until the girl decided to head to her parents’ summer house, and she had you hire Mac when you couldn’t find Rosemary in the city. You knew all along what was going on and why Tyra cared about the girl, and you never said a word.”

  “You never asked,” Quigley whined. “I never lied to anyone. I was just doing my job. Tyra always had me watching Dionnu when he came to New York so I could tell her who he’d been with and whether he ever saw the same woman twice, not that he ever did.”

  “Because he’s a great big man-whore,” Danice muttered.

  “I didn’t know there was anything special about this particular girl, even when Tyra asked me to get a mortal investigator to pick up her trail.”

  “That is one big, fat coincidence I’m having a little trouble swallowing,” she said. “How is it that out of all the private investigators in Manhattan, you managed to pick the only one who was actually Tyra’s blood relative?”

  Mac laughed. “You’re having trouble swallowing it because it’s not a coincidence. I’m sure that as soon as Quigley got the order to hire some help, I was the first one he thought of, and not because we’ve worked together in the past. His imp’s sense of humor would have found the idea irresistible.”

  “And you don’t want to smack him for it?”

  “Why would I? If he hadn’t hired me for this particular case, I might never have met you.”

  Something inside Danice melted, leaving her slightly more gently disposed to the interfering imp.

  “Right,” she said, wrapping her arm around Mac’s waist and snuggling against his side. “I suppose in that case I can forgive the little jerk.”

  “Aw, admit it, Danice,” Quigley prodded, “you know you secretly like me.”

  “No way. If I liked you, I wouldn’t mention that I have a very strong hunch you’d sell me your right arm if I introduced you to the concept of a root beer float.”

  The imp’s pointed ears visibly perked up. “Float? Root beer float? What’s a root beer float?”

  “And then I certainly wouldn’t refuse to tell you anything else.”

  “Why haven’t I ever heard of this before? Are you trying to trick me?” The imp scowled up at Mac. “Is she trying to trick me? Have you ever heard of a root beer float?”

  Mac laughed his way through a groan. “Great. You just had to go there. I hope you realize that you’ve just created a monster.”

  Danice grinned. “He deserved it.”

  “Guys, come on! What’s a root beer float? Man, you’ve got to tell me now. I can’t stand this.”

  Mac and Danice just laughed and ignored him. They were too busy savoring the feeling of being safe and alive and together all at once. And thankfully, once they reached the much better-lit expanse of First Avenue, the imp had to drop back and find a darker way home.

  They walked a couple of blocks along the avenue until Rosemary managed to flag a taxi and slip into the backseat. She barely spared Mac and Danice a backward glance.

  As the cab pulled away from the curb, Danice glanced up at Mac. “Do you think we can trust her to actually get home safely at this point?”

  He sighed. “I think she’ll be safe enough for tonight. And as of first thing tomorrow when you let her grandfather know the real story about her supposed pregnancy, she will no longer be any concern of ours.”

  “Thank God.”

  Mac spotted another cab coming down the quiet street and held out a hand. When the vehicle stopped, he bundled Danice into the back and gave the cabbie the address of her apartment building.

  She arched a brow. “How did you know where I live? I don’t remember giving you that information. As I recall, all I gave you was my business card.”

  “I’m a private investigator.” He grinned. “I investigated.”

  Danice let her head fall back against the leather upholstery. She couldn’t remember ever being this tired in her life. Now that they were back safe in Manhattan, the enemy vanquished, the mystery solved, and the inviting comfort of her apartment mere minutes away, she wondered how she’d made it this far. Between the full day in Faerie, the battle, the sex, the running, the sex, and the stress, she was amazed that only now had she begun to shake with the tremors of extreme fatigue.

  Mac said nothing, but he pulled her closer against his side to lend her his body heat. He had one strong arm wrapped around her back. The other clasped her hand in his, their joined fingers resting in her lap.

  Neither spoke during the remainder of the ride. When the cab stopped in front of Danice’s building, Mac got out with her and paid the cabbie, then turned to follow her upstairs. She didn’t protest. She didn’t want to walk into her empty apartment while he rode off toward his. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to be separate from him again, but for tonight, at least, she couldn’t imagine having him anywhere but by her side.

  Her cold, stiff fingers fumbled with her key until Mac gently took it and unlocked her door himself. Danice stumbled over the threshold and mumbled an apology, but her own voice sounded slurred and foreign in her ears. She could barely keep her eyes open. The lids felt as if they’d been weighted down with lead. In the end, she let Mac take care of her, let him lead her into the bedroom, strip off her clothes, and bundle her into bed between crisp cotton sheets.

  She remembered murmuring with pleasure when she felt him crawl in beside her and press his warm bare skin to hers. He gathered her to his side, and she went gratefully, pillowing her head on his shoulder and resting her hand on the smooth, strong surface of his chest.

  The brush of his lips against her forehead was the last thing she knew of for several, dreamless hours.

  When Danice woke again, she realized she was lying in the exact same position she’d been in when she fell asleep. That in itself was unusual, since she tended to change position several times during the night. But even more unusual was the feel of a warm, solid male body beside her.

  She ran an appreciative hand over his chest and felt his muscles tighten.

  “You’re awake,” Mac murmured, his voice drowsy with sleep.

  “Mmm. What time ’sit?”

  “No idea.”

  She chuckled. “Some help you are.” She lifted her head and squinted at the digital clock on the nightstand. Then she frowned. “Nine-thirty at night? That can’t be right.”

  “Why not? I was certainly tired enough to sleep the whole damned day. In fact,
I think it was my top priority.”

  “But that would make it…” She frowned. “What day would that make it? We met Quigley on Monday and went through the gate into Faerie on Tuesday. We were there all day Wednesday, and came back early in the morning on Thursday. So that means it’s Thursday night?” She groaned and flopped back onto Mac’s chest. “Shit. That is so not good. I can’t have been gone for two days. Missing that much work with no explanation? They’re gonna can my ass.”

  Mac rubbed his hand over her bare back as if he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her skin. “There’s no way to know if you have been. Time passes differently in Faerie than it does here, and there’s no way to predict it. Sometimes a month there is an hour here and vice versa.”

  Her head shot up, and Danice glared down at him. “Are you telling me that I might have been gone an entire month?” She felt the surge of horror at the idea, but tamped it down with the use of cool logic. “No, that’s impossible. If I’d gone that long without calling my mother, she would have already had the National Guard out looking for me, and she and my dad would be camped out here in my apartment in case I came home. So it can’t have been a month.”

  Mac slanted her a sleepy grin. “How long would your mom give you before she pulled out all the stops like that?”

  “Ten days. At the outside. And then only if she had something else to distract her.” She shook her head. “You don’t understand how close my family is. Or my friends. If Mom didn’t call the police by day ten, Ava or Corinne or one of the other girls would. They’re a little protective. Actually, we’re a little protective of each other.”

  “I think that’s nice. It’s that way with me and my dad, but then, it’s always just been the two of us.”

  Danice heard what he didn’t say and propped her chin up on her hand to gaze down at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but I’m sorry you had to lose your mother. And I’m sorry you had to see her like that. You shouldn’t have had to.”

  He smiled up at her. “Don’t be. I meant what I told Dionnu. I know Tyra gave birth to me, but I never considered her my mother. I never had a mother, or maybe I lost her before I even got the chance to know her. Either way, Tyra didn’t mean anything to me, other than someone who tried to use me. I know who she was because my father told me about her, and when I was a teenager, he sent me to Faerie for a couple of weeks so I could learn about that side of my heritage.

  “That’s where I learned about the culture and everything. But I didn’t spend the time with her. I stayed with the family of another changeling I had met at an after-school program. My dad sent word to Tyra that I’d be visiting, and she never even bothered to come and meet me. And the weird thing was, it didn’t even hurt me then.

  “I had a great childhood. My dad is the best father I could have asked for, so good that I never really missed having a mom.”

  She eyed him skeptically. “If you’re sure…”

  Mac laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Danice shrugged. “Maybe it’s because my family is so close, but I have a hard time believing that not having a mother, or having Tyra for a mother, didn’t mess you up even the tiniest bit.”

  He sighed and sank back into the pillows, curling a strand of her dark hair around one of his fingers. “Well, I don’t think it messed me up, and I think that’s all my dad’s doing. I give him a lot of credit, not just for doing such an awesome job raising me, but for not trying to turn me against her when I was growing up. I’m sure it would have been easy to do. After all, she offers the kind of ammunition money can’t buy.”

  Danice snorted at that.

  “But I mean it when I say I grew up just fine.” He shifted a bit, his eyes sliding away from hers to gaze over her shoulder. “Honestly, the worst moment I ever had over having Tyra for a mother came tonight, and it wasn’t because of what she was or what she did. It was because of you.”

  Danice felt a jolt of surprise and frowned at him, waiting for his gaze to slide back to hers before she shook her head. “Because of me? Why?”

  Mac shrugged, but the tension in his long frame belied the casual nature of the gesture. “Because part of me was—still is—afraid that you’d look at her and think that since I came from her, I might have that kind of hate inside me. Or that kind of crazy. I mean, you have to admit, by the end of the night she wasn’t in her right mind.”

  She shook her head, feeling the creases her frown was etching in her brow. “What on earth are you talking about? Why would I think you have anything at all in common with Tyra? Have I said or done anything that makes you think I view you as a potential psycho bitch in the making?”

  His mouth quirked, but the expression in his clouded-blue eyes remained serious. “No, but I can’t deny that part of her lives on in me. We share the same genes. What’s to say that I won’t go off the deep end, too, one day?”

  “You’re to say it,” Danice insisted, understanding dawning. Not that she understood how he could feel that way, but at least now she understood that he did. “You are nothing like Tyra and you could never become like that. You couldn’t end up in the same place as her because you don’t have the capacity for that kind of selfishness. Even if you tried to be entirely self-centered, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from helping other people. That’s just who you are. Who you’re always going to be.” She let her smile tease him as she leaned down to brush her lips against his. “Besides which, I’d smack you down way before you got to that point. So stop thinking like an idiot.”

  Mac chuckled and cupped her head in his hand, pulling her down for a longer, deeper kiss. When she drew back, he smiled and she could see the traces of his worries fading. How could anything like worry or sadness survive when the two of them lay together like this?

  “I appreciate your willingness to hit me,” he said, still grinning, “as well as the fact that you just implied you plan to stick around long enough to notice if I develop any bad habits. Does that mean you care about me?”

  Danice snorted and shook her head. “How could I not care? In case you’ve been too thick and male to notice it, I’m kind of in love with you, you idiot.”

  “Good, because I’m absolutely in love with you,” he grinned. “You little she-devil.”

  Danice laughed, feeling joy welling inside her. If Mac loved her, everything must be right with her world. Then a thought occurred to her. Instead of making her frown, it only brought on a fresh wave of excitement.

  “No, you know what, Parish Hampton is not going to can my ass,” she said, her mouth curving into a grin of pure delight. “They won’t be able to, because first thing on Monday morning, I am going to march into that office and turn in my letter of resignation.”

  She felt Mac stiffen beneath her and knew he would be remembering the argument they had had in Faerie, after the first time they made love.

  “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

  “Positive,” she grinned.

  During that fight, he had tried to make her see how ill suited her job at Parish Hampton was to who she really was inside. She had been struggling for so long to be Danice Carter, young urban lawyer on the rise, that she’d forgotten to be herself. And Danice was beginning to suspect that who she was would end up being more along the lines of Danice Carter, kick-ass lawyer to the underdog.

  Just the thought made her dizzy with glee.

  “You were right,” she told him, her grin so wide she feared it would split her face in two. “Working at Parish Hampton is not where I belong, and I don’t want to do it anymore. I am going to resign, and then I am going to find a job that I’m not just good at, but that I love. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even start my own practice.”

  Mac’s mouth curved, and Danice could see the love and approval glowing in his gorgeous stormy-sea eyes. He tugged her down and kissed her soundly.

  “I think that is a fabulous idea,” he murmured against her lips a few delicious seconds later. “In fact, I think it’s such a good i
dea that it’s going to be very difficult for me to resist taking all of the credit for it.”

  “Oh, you can have the credit,” she told him, squirming around above him until he hissed through his teeth and she could feel the proof of his arousal pressing against her stomach. “I’m happy to give you all the credit you want.”

  She pushed herself into a sitting position astride his hips and wriggled enticingly.

  Mac reached up to cup her breasts in his hands, cuddling the soft mounds with tender care. “Is that a new euphemism you’re adopting? Giving credit?”

  She laughed and leaned into his palms, loving the feel of him touching her.

  Loving him.

  “Not at all,” she grinned. “It just means that if I give you all the credit, I can also saddle you with all the blame if something goes wrong.”

  Mac shifted his grip to the back of her neck and pulled her down for a kiss. “Nothing is going to go wrong.”

  And in her heart, Danice knew that he was absolutely right.

  Look for the next heart-pounding Others novel from New York Times bestselling author

  CHRISTINE WARREN

  BLACK MAGIC WOMAN

  ISBN: 978-0-312-35720-7

  Coming in summer 2011

  …and don’t miss this never-before-released FREE Others short story

  “HEART OF THE SEA”

  Visit www.christinewarren.net to find out more.

  Vampires,

  Werewolves,

  and Demons,

  Oh, My…

  Step into the Thrilling World of

  CHRISTINE WARREN

  and The Others

  Wolf at the Door

  “This book is a fire-starter.”

  —Romance Reader at Heart

  Sullivan Quinn didn’t travel 3,000 miles from his native Ireland and his wolf pack just to chase rabidly after the most delectable quarry he’s ever seen. Quinn is in America on a mission—to warn his Other brethren of a shadowy group willing to use murder and mayhem to bring them down. But one whiff of this Foxwoman’s delicious honeysuckle fragrance and he knows that she is more than a colleague or a conquest…she is his mate.

 

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