"Theresa!"
"What?" She blew on a pretzel to heat it up, her eyes going all glittery in anticipation of the snack she was about to get. "You don't want me to burn up a chair? Fine. A bed works for me. Whatever. Just pick something soon, or I might set you on fire instead."
"Get a hold of your instincts, will you? There will be no burning today. I was talking about the surfer guy. What was that gold glow and ash thing all about?"
"I don't know. Why do you always expect me to know everything? You're the Guardian. That's your job. I'm just a useless roommate trapped here with no job unless you die." She popped the warm pretzel in her mouth. "That is one good pretzel. The first thing I'm going to do as a human is go find the man who created these snacks and give him an entire week to do with my body what he will. He's totally deserving."
Justine frowned as Theresa chomped the pretzels. First, her mom's visit. Now, someone had tracked down Mona? And he was glowing? What was going on?
All she knew was they'd been compromised. Which meant one thing. "It's time to move on."
Theresa stopped mid-chew. "What?"
"That guy found us. We have to bail. I'll call Graham and have him clear the tenants out of our Santa Fe property. We'll leave tonight."
The pretzel fell from Theresa's hand, forgotten. "But I don't want to leave! I like New York and we've been here only five years."
"I'd like to stay too, but you know the drill. Mona's protection takes priority." Justine swept the photos off a table. "Clear out the personal stuff. We'll have Graham take care of the rest." Dammit. She didn't want to leave. Life was finally getting interesting! It was about time she got to do some Guardian stuff! How else was she going to get off Guardian probation, if she didn't get a chance to prove herself? As long as she was on probation, the Council had the right to spy on her unannounced and unrevealed. It drove her crazy wondering if they were around, watching every little thing she did, waiting for her to screw up so they could toss her in the Chamber of Unspeakable Horrors.
She wanted to stay so she could do something heroic in the name of Guardianship and redeem herself.
Plus New York had great delivery services. If you're stuck in your apartment most of the time, you might as well live in a city that delivers anything you can imagine twenty-four hours a day. What could they get delivered in Santa Fe? Cactus pie and sand appetizers?
"New York is home," Theresa protested, her voice edged with desperation.
"I know." New York was the one place where they weren't the weirdest couple around, always a comfort when your only friend is a sexually deprived dragon considering breast implants, and you have eternally perky boobs which no man has fondled since long before electricity was invented.
And now that someone had found them in New York, who knew how long it would be until it was safe to return? Maybe never. Her first duty was to avoid the danger. Stand and fight was available only if flight didn't work.
Theresa stood up. "I'm not leaving."
"Fine. You can stay here." Her voice hitched at the thought of leaving Theresa behind. "But I have to leave with Mona."
"But I can't be here alone. I need someone in human form to do errands for me. I need a personal servant and you're my only option! Plus, I love you and you're my bestie. I can't deal with my life without you!"
"Dammit, Theresa! What do you want me to do? I don't want to leave either, but I don't have a choice! I'm the Guardian, remember? Page eleven of the Guardian Treatise specifically says I must relocate the Goblet in the event of any threat to her safety, which includes the appearance of idiot, gun-wielding treasure seekers who have somehow found her." She slammed a picture down too hard and cringed as the glass shattered.
"Aren't you tired of running away? Don't you want a life?"
"Of course I do! So what? I tried once and we saw how well that worked out, didn't we?" It still irked her that she'd violated her Guardian Oath for a man who'd betrayed her. She'd been a total idiot and she wasn't going to make that mistake again, even if it meant bailing prematurely from the coolest city on the planet. She was going to follow the Treatise word for word even if she thought the damned book was outdated, uncreative, and basically useless.
Theresa hesitated, her claws resting on her hips. "Well, I might have a solution."
Justine stared at her friend. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, I know this guy, Zeke—"
"Zeke? How do you know a guy? You never go out."
"I met him on the Internet—"
"Are you kidding? One of your cyber-lovers?" Justine sank down on the couch. "Did you tell him about us? Are you the reason that man came to our condo today?"
"No, no, no. I haven't told him anything." Theresa sat down next to her and pulled the computer onto her lap. "I met him when I was researching dragons who had been deprived of their human form. He's really into dragons, and we've been emailing each other. I think he might have the answers we need. I think he actually knows about dragons. He's not just one of those freaks who thinks dragons aren't real but pretends to believe in them."
Justine couldn't believe the soft look in Theresa's eyes as she typed away at the computer. Her heart tightened. "You love him," she whispered. "You fell in love with a guy you've never met."
"Whaat? It's not love. It's great cybersex. The dragon stuff is pillow talk."
"You're such a liar!" Justine had never seen Theresa's gold eyes glitter like that. "It's not just sex."
"Sure, it is. Zeke's an amazing cyber lover, and I'm sexually deprived. I'll tell you though, it's not easy to avoid video calls in this day and age. I can only claim so many bad hair days, you know?"
Justine sighed, knowing how difficult it was for Theresa to be locked up in the condo all the time. Dragons were naturally social, and it had been hard on her. "I’m sorry, babe."
"It's fine." Theresa cleared her throat and set a coaster on fire. "But anyway, he lives in New York, too."
As she patted out the fire, Justine studied her friend, understanding dawning. "You want to stay here because he's nearby."
"As if! It's not like I'll ever meet him, thanks to my scales. I just like the view from my bedroom. Nothing like cement to make a girl sleep well at night."
"You're lying." Justine grinned. "You're a romantic. You want to stay here so you can breathe the same air he's breathing. That's incredibly sweet."
"Ha. Not hardly." But Theresa kept her gaze firmly fixed on the computer screen. Avoiding eye contact, perhaps?
"Liar." That was so cute. Theresa was whipped. That alone was reason not to leave New York. She was so going to have to track Zeke down and meet him. Take pictures. Maybe invite him to the apartment so Theresa could watch him over the security camera. Their life of isolation was brutal at times, and if she could give Theresa a little joy, she wanted to do it. "Want me to stalk him for you?"
Therese's face softened. "You'd do that for me?"
"Totally. Want me to?"
Theresa shrugged. "Maybe. At least knock out the front teeth of any female he kisses."
"Done." Justine flopped back on the couch. "How fun would that be to do together? We haven't done anything like that in centuries." Nothing like Guardian obligations to keep you from silly and irresponsible.
"I know, right?" Theresa sighed. "And you want to go to Santa Fe? Who are you going to stalk there? Rattlesnakes?"
"I don't want to go to Santa Fe, but if we stay here and Mona gets stolen, we're both in serious shit." And her mom would definitely have to go to hell and play strip poker with Satan. And her mom sucked at poker.
"Then give me a chance to ask Zeke about the gold auras. He knows this stuff." Theresa paused with her claws over the keyboard. "Please? Running away isn't always the best answer anyway. You should know what you're dealing with and eradicate it, right? Isn't that the better solution? Otherwise, what's to keep surfer dude from following us to Sante Fe?"
Justine hesitated "Well, yes, but we can't risk Mona."
Justine heard the plea in Theresa's voice and sighed. How could she say no? It had been too long since Theresa had had that sparkle in her eyes. How could she deprive her best friend of a little bit of joy? Plus, if someone did need to be beheaded, it would be better to do it in New York. No one would even notice a headless body in an alley in this city. She was pretty sure she could find a section of the Treatise that supported staying in town long enough to identify the enemy. "Fine. But you better be ready to incinerate first and ask questions later if anyone else shows up here, even if it's Zeke."
Theresa hugged her. "You're the best."
"Yeah, yeah." She stood up. "Twenty-four hours, Theresa. And then I have to leave with Mona." But as she said it, her throat tightened at the thought of leaving Theresa behind. Without her best friend by her side all this time, her life would have been so much worse.
"Don't worry." Theresa was already frantically typing. "He'll deliver. I know he will."
"I hope so."
If he didn't, her choice to stay in town for another twenty-four hours might have just sent her mom into the arms of the lover from hell.
Literally.
Or maybe this wasn't a Qualifying Incident set up by certain corrupt Afterlife officials. Maybe this was simply an ordinary threat to Mona. Or maybe...maybe facilitating her best friend's romantic needs was a selfless deed that would propel her mom to heaven.
Or maybe she was damned either way.
Literally.
Chapter Eight
Derek stood in the marbled lobby of Justine Bennett's (aka potential Guardian) building and eyed the huge man staring him down. The name badge identified him as Xavier, but Death might have been a better fit. Sure, he was dressed in a gold-gilded doorman's outfit and wore shiny black shoes, but there was no doubt the man was lethal.
People didn't have that look in their eyes unless they'd tasted blood before and liked it. He remembered that expression in the eyes of his youth karate class instructor just before he broke the nose of his least favorite student.
Personally, Derek preferred that no one get to taste his blood. Call him stingy, but he liked his red blood cells to be doing their job, not staining marble floors. His black belt wouldn't do any good if Xavier whipped out a gun and popped him between the eyes.
Derek cleared his throat. "I'm here to see Justine Bennett."
Xavier gave him a long look, then broke into a smile that startled Derek with its warmth. "Thank you so much for stopping by, but Ms. Bennett has requested privacy." His voice was cultured, his tones amiable and soothing. "I'm sure you'd prefer to go have some coffee and read a newspaper instead, wouldn't you?"
Coffee. Now that he thought about it, coffee did sound good. And what had happened on Wall Street today? A burning need to know this instant suddenly flared up inside him.
He began to rifle through his briefcase, searching for his Wall Street Journal, then he stopped.
What was wrong with him? He was here to see Justine Bennett, not to surf headlines. He scowled at Xavier. "I need to see her. If you could buzz her, that would be great."
Xavier's smile broadened. "Of course, you'd so much rather go home and watch television, wouldn't you? The Yankees are playing the Red Sox tonight. You wouldn't want to miss that, I'm sure."
Derek blinked. Damn. He needed to see that game. Like right this second. His feet turned toward the door even as he tried to form an argument in his mind.
He was six blocks away before he remembered he didn't even like baseball, and even if he did, he wouldn't put baseball over tracking down the Guardian.
Weird. One little suggestion about the game, and he was rushing to watch it?
Or maybe his family was correct, and he was certifiable and making up all this shit.
But he didn't think so.
Either way, he needed to meet this animator, and it was clear the doorman wasn't going to let him up.
No problem. He could work around Xavier.
On his way back to the condo building, Derek pulled a manila envelope out of his briefcase, dropped some papers in it, and wrote Justine's name on the outside. Sure, the papers had nothing to do with Justine, but the legalese would keep her confused long enough for him to do what he needed to do. He sealed it, straightened his suit, and marched back inside. "Good evening, Xavier." He stuck out his hand and pumped the doorman's hand vigorously. "I'm her new lawyer and I brought some papers for her to sign. Derek LaValle at your service."
Xavier lifted a brow. "Ms. Bennett doesn't see guests."
Derek tried to look insulted. "I'm her attorney, not a guest."
"You're hungry, aren't you? Pizza sounds good..."
Jesus. He was suddenly starving. He'd had dinner an hour ago, and now he could practically smell the oregano and baking pizza dough. It was as if Xavier was actually putting the suggestions into his head.
But that wasn't possible, was it?
"You also need coffee," Xavier said, leaning casually against the desk. "Expensive coffee. Somewhere on the other side of town."
Damn. If he didn't get a vanilla latté in less than a minute, he felt like he was going to lose his mind. It was all he could do to ignore the craving long enough to realize that there was no longer any doubt: Xavier was working him over.
And if Xavier really had this kind of power, who knew what other impossibilities could be true? Like dragons, Guardians and Goblets?
Damn. This was it. This was it.
He had to find a way to meet Justine Bennett, and now. His adrenaline racing, he gave Xavier a hard look. "I know what you're doing, and cut it out. I don't have time to go get coffee or eat pizza, so drop the magic shit. I need to get back to the office." He was pretty sure Xavier's left eye twitched in surprise.
He took advantage by handing the man the envelope. "Just see that she gets this, all right? And tonight. I'll pick up the signed papers on my way to work in the morning. Around six?" He nodded before Xavier could argue. "Great. Thanks for your help." He frowned. "And tell me I'm not hungry or thirsty and I can work all night. I have a lot to do, and if you screw it up by sending me home to watch the baseball game and OD on caffeine I'm coming after you."
Xavier blinked.
"Undo the damage, Xavier. I'm so hungry I could eat your damned name tag."
Xavier frowned, his forehead furrowed deeply. "Fine. You're not hungry. You don't need to watch the game. Go..."
"I can take it from there." Amazing. He was suddenly so full he couldn't even stand the thought of food. All because of a few words Xavier had spoken? What kind of situation was he getting involved with? He let his breath out softly, then realized Xavier was still staring at him.
"Justine doesn't know about my talents. How do you?" Xavier's hands curled into fists. They were massive instruments of death. He could probably shoot metal spikes coming out of them or something. "How do you know?" he repeated. His voice was soft, but instead of charming, it was deadly.
Great. Just great. Because irritating a huge man with supernatural powers was always a fantastic plan.
Derek forced himself to snort and roll his eyes, even as he eased into a ready stance and tried not to wonder if he was about to get a magical ass-kicking. "Give me a break, Xavier. I've been around this crap so long it takes someone a lot subtler than you to fool me." Would this tactic work? He sure hoped so.
Xavier narrowed his eyes. "How long is 'so long?'"
"Too long." He gave Xavier an easy smile. "Don't worry. You're better than most." Most what? He had no clue. "Keep at it and you'll be great. But I need to get back to the office. Get Justine the papers, and don't worry, I won't tell her about you." God, he hoped he was making sense to Xavier, because he sure as hell had no idea what he was saying.
He made it to the revolving door when Xavier stopped him. "LaValle?"
Derek grimaced, then turned to face him. "Yes?"
"What are you?"
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Not who he was. Xavier had very clearly asked what he was. Best not to analyze the implications of that question. Derek was pretty sure his brain couldn't handle it. And somehow, he didn't think "ordinary human" was the right answer. "Tonight, I'm just a lawyer."
"And other nights?"
"Guess." He left before Xavier could start listing things he didn't want to know about.
He was in way over his head.
Which meant he was right.
Hot damn. He was right.
The intercom buzzed as Justine was sharpening the blade of her favorite sword. After the surfer boy incident earlier in the day, she'd decided she needed to prepare for battle. The diamonds on her sword always glittered so nicely after a slaying, it usually improved her mood. Diamonds were indeed a girl's best friend, even when on the butt of a sword that had just beheaded someone.
The intercom beeped again, and the red light flashed insistently. "Another visitor?" She frowned. "Did someone post a treasure map on the wall of a public restroom or something?"
Theresa didn't look up from her laptop. "It's not my fault."
"Why would it be your fault?"
"It's not, so it's not. So there."
"Being in love is rotting your brain."
"You mean great cybersex is rotting my brain. There are worse ways to go."
"True." Justine set the blade on their granite-topped kitchen table (even Theresa couldn't burn that sucker) and walked over to the intercom. She punched the gray button. "Xavier?"
"Your lawyer left some papers for you."
"My lawyer?" She glanced at Theresa. "Are you cyber-boinking a lawyer?"
"Not that I know of."
Huh. Justine frowned at the speakerphone. "Are you sure it's not a bomb?"
"It's papers." Xavier sounded proper as always. He wasn't the most scintillating personality, but he was very effective.
"Open it," she said.
She waited for the rustling of paper, then Xavier came back on. "It's a bunch of legal stuff. Contracts or something. About pretzels. Nothing lethal. Want me to bring them up?"
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