“Go on,” I told Jasmine.
She met my eyes for a second, almost seemed to approve, then said, “Very well. Male Faeries bestow on their lovers a battery charge, for want of a better term.”
“Huh?” Thea looked confused. Good. I was just as happy she didn’t immediately get it.
“I know that much,” I said. I’d felt lots of little power bursts every time I woke up to find Brady in my bed, playing a surprise concerto on my naked body.
“Yes, but there’s more,” Jasmine said. “A male Faery not only enhances his lover’s innate strengths; he can also bestow a supercharge, giving his chosen one an incomparable amount of strength and force. Male Faeries are the guardians of Faery power. They have it within them to bestow that power on someone else.”
“Oh, boy.” Too much information. I dropped back down to the couch and thought about Vanessa. Weak, she’d wiped her yard with my battered body. If she got a supercharge out of Brady there’d be no stopping her. She’d mow through La Sombra like I went through cinnamon rolls, and then she’d move on to the rest of the world.
But then again, maybe not. Maybe Vanessa wasn’t as upwardly mobile as I was giving her credit for. Maybe Brady wouldn’t surrender that supercharge of strength to Vanessa. He’d held out for more than a hundred years already. But sooner or later I knew he’d have to crack. No one could be held as a slave forever. When the day came that Vanessa got all of Brady’s power…
“Hmm…”
“Exactly,” Jasmine said. “You see”—her voice took on that oh-so-loathed master-to-dummy tone—“centuries ago the female Faeries, tired of their males’ egos and selfishness, cursed them.”
So, I thought, females everywhere were pretty much the same. Good to know.
“Now the Faery realm is a matriarchal society. Males are used in two ways—one, to guard the magic, and two, for sex, at which apparently they are very talented….”
“Is this experience talking?”
Jasmine looked appalled. “I beg your pardon?”
“So that’s a no,” I said. I felt Thea’s curious gaze on me and forced myself not to look at her.
“If we could stay on topic…”
I nodded.
“There is a danger,” Jasmine said in her pay-attention-because-this-is-serious voice. “If a female isn’t careful during sex, the male Faery can steal a female’s power for himself.”
“WHAT?” I jumped up again—easier to be outraged on my feet. Funny how Brady had never mentioned that little nugget of information all the time he was trying to get me to have sex with him. My brain was tired, but it managed a few more wild thoughts. Brady hadn’t come to me for safety; he’d come to try to steal my dusting powers so he could save his own scummy ass. I was more grateful by the moment for my supreme self-control in never having had actual sex with Brady. If I had, he might’ve taken my Duster strength, and I’d be one dead Duster pretty damn fast.
Rat Faery bastard.
“There’s more,” Jasmine said.
“What’s left?” I demanded.
“The males alone decide whether to gift a lover with their power center. It is not involuntary. The power must be given freely.”
“Fine,” I said, waving one hand as though I could wipe away the whole damn night. “But why does Vanessa think she can get Brady to hand over his power? He’s held out a long time already.”
“True,” Jasmine said. “But if the queen can seduce Brady into feeling loved, he might allow himself to be melded with the demon queen. Even if the transfer of power isn’t complete, this would give Vanessa a temporary supercharge of powers that will allow her to conquer the human world.”
“CRAP.” So Jasmine was thinking what I’d been thinking Vanessa was thinking. Well, that sounded confusing, but you know what I mean. This was serious trouble. Potentially.
“Precisely.”
“Mom, we have to get him away from the queen.”
Out of the mouths of babes, right? “Yeah, we do,” I agreed. Not just because we soooo didn’t need Vanessa getting a supercharge of whatever, but because Brady’d sacrificed himself for me.
He hadn’t had to. He was free and clear. He could have disappeared. Okay, yes, he hadn’t mentioned that he might be trying to steal my powers through sex, but that hadn’t actually happened, either. Could I really blame him for trying to save his own ass when that was what I was doing every damn day? Besides, damn it, Thea and I liked him. A lot.
The house felt lonely without him trailing Faery dust everywhere he walked. There were no good smells coming from the kitchen. He wasn’t here to make Logan nuts (always a good time). And he couldn’t help Thea with cheerleading.
“We’ll get him back,” I promised my daughter. I just didn’t know how yet. All I did know for sure was, I wasn’t going to be able to free him alone. I wasn’t looking for another smack-down from Demon Babe.
I needed the cavalry.
“You’re alive.”
“Barely,” I said into my cell phone the next morning as I drove down PCH to Magic Nights.
“Well,” Rachel said, in her hissed, I’m-really-mad-at-you-but-can’t-scream-’cause-I’m-at-work voice, “you could have told me. I was up all night worrying about you until I saw your Bug back in your driveway.”
I rolled my eyes. Vanessa wasn’t the only drama queen in my life. “I was home by ten, Rach.”
“It felt like forever,” Rachel pointed out. Then she half covered the receiver with her hand, and I heard a muffled, “Yes, Mrs. Harris, the doctor knows you’re here. I swear it on the head of my child.” Then back to me. “I swear, these people are driving me insane.”
Rachel was the receptionist in her husband’s dental office, which probably wasn’t the right job for her. Rach really isn’t a people person.
“I was worried, damn it,” she said. “Asking me to look after Thea…”
“You’re right,” I said, knowing I had to take my mea culpas on this one. I should have called her. But the night before I was too pissed off, and this morning I’d been too busy coming up with a plan to get Brady back.
I swerved around an idiot trying to parallel park on the busiest street in La Sombra, but because I had one hand on the wheel and the other on my phone, I couldn’t spare a hand to flip him the bird. “It was crazed; that’s all.”
“What happened?”
“Demon fight.”
“You won, then.”
“I sooo didn’t. Lost. Big-time. Brady’s been captured, my whole body hurts, Thea’s crying, Jasmine’s all huffy and this morning when Logan picked Thea up for school, he told me he’s moving in early. As in this weekend early.”
“Brady was captured?” Rachel honed in on the most important point to her. “By who? When?”
“Demon queen. Last night.”
“They have queens?”
“Really strong queens, too. She must eat her Wheaties, because she seriously kicked my ass.” I wheeled the VW into the parking lot of Magic Nights and cut the engine.
“What’re you going to do?”
“I have a plan.”
“Why doesn’t that make me feel better?”
“It’s not doing anything for me; why should it for you?” I asked—pretty reasonably, if you ask me. “Gotta go,” I told her, and snapped the phone shut before she could ask for details. Yes, I’d hear about it later, but at the moment there were bigger problems to face.
“You want me to help get the Faery away from Vanessa?”
“His name is Brady, and yes, that about sums it up.”
Devlin stood up from behind his desk and walked toward me, and God help me, every nerve in my body did that I’m on-fire, let’s-get-busy dance. Yes, apparently I’m a slut. But I’ve made peace with it. So should you.
His office at Magic Nights was sleek and elegant—just like him. I hadn’t had any trouble getting up to see him. Serena hadn’t tried to stop me. She’d just hissed at me and let me go. Apparently she was still a li
ttle pissy about the demon spray and the ass kicking.
“Why should I?”
“Well, Logan’s already agreed to help.” (He hadn’t yet, but I was willing to use whatever bargaining chip I had.) “How would it look if you turned me down?”
His gaze narrowed and his mouth tightened. Funny, the mention of Devlin’s name did the same thing to Logan.
“If I do help what do I get?”
“Me thinking you’re a nice guy?”
He smiled, and the man packed some serious power in a smile, let me tell you. Six feet five inches of gorgeous demon looming over you will definitely give a woman a charge she can travel on all day. “What else?” he asked.
“Um…” I hadn’t really thought this part through completely. Give me a break. I’d been up all night trying to come up with ways to save Brady.
He leaned in, planted his hands on the arms of my chair and lowered his face until he was so close I could see my reflection in his dark eyes. “If I help you get the Faery away from Vanessa, I want another chance with you.”
Was it hot in there?
I wanted to fan myself, but he would have enjoyed it. There was definitely a sizzle in my bloodstream and a fog settling over my brain. Yes, Devlin had cheated on me, but, okay, maybe he didn’t think about relationships in the same way humans did. To be fair, maybe we should have straightened out the whole cultural-differences thing before we started anything.
“Okay,” I said, not really sure if I meant it or not, but what the hell—a little lie to get me the help I needed wasn’t really that bad, was it? “You help me out and we’ll talk about second chances.”
“Deal.”
“You want me to fight who for the sake of a what?” Logan leaned back in his chair at Starbucks. His black hair needed a trim, and he was wearing worn blue jeans, black boots and a dark green flannel shirt over a black T-shirt. And yes, the anti-Devlin got me just as hot as Devlin did.
These slut issues were really getting out of hand.
I glanced around and noted the usual crowd gathered. The geeks hovering over their laptops like they were impressing everyone in the room. The terminally trendy with their mocha frappé whatsis, and the housewives looking for five minutes to themselves. The baristas kept the line moving, the hiss of the espresso machine sounded like a disapproving crowd and I was going to need more than one stinking doughnut to get through this conversation with Logan.
I took a bite, let the chocolate slide around on my tongue for a second or two, then leaned in toward him and whispered, “The demon queen took Brady.”
“The Faery.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head, grabbed his latte and took a long drink. “You’re a nut.”
My chin hit my chest. Naturally Logan would be the hardest of the two men in my life to convince. But then, the other man in my life was a demon. He didn’t need convincing.
Logan sat up and leaned across the table. He locked his sharp blue gaze with mine and said, “If you want my help for something, just ask. You don’t have to make up all this shit to get it.”
“I’m not—” Then I stopped myself. What was the point, anyway? Logan wasn’t going to believe me, and did it really matter? “Okay, I need your help.”
“See? How hard was that?”
Irritating, I thought, counting to ten, then twenty. It wasn’t helping. “Look, whatever you want to believe, I can’t help Brady alone. Devlin’s already agreed to help me. What do you say?”
This piece of news had exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for.
“Cole? Devlin Cole?” His features went stiff and tight. “I thought you were finished with him.”
I shrugged. “I need help; he’s helping. The question is, are you?”
“Hell, yes,” Logan said. “You think I’m leaving you alone with that guy?”
Chapter Thirteen
By the time Carmen and I finished cleaning our houses for the day, I’d about had it. Starting the day off talking to Devlin and Logan had just put the wrong kind of spin on an already crappy day.
Now I was tired of men, cleaning, Faeries and demon queens. I didn’t want to train, didn’t want to squirt potential demons, and I sure as hell didn’t want to rip out any hearts.
What I wanted was a little normalcy. Something simple. Fun. As if reading my mind, my VW Bug headed straight for the mall. While my trusty car took off, practically on autopilot, I made a quick call on my cell phone and then sat back to enjoy the ride.
La Sombra’s not a big town, but we’ve got the necessities. A few Starbucks, Taco Bell, In-N-Out Burger and a mall with a Nordstrom. With these slices of civilization, you could live and be happy.
I parked closest to Nordie’s, because that’s where I do my purse shopping and my purse daydreaming. I wanted to wander through the narrow aisles and inhale the scent of fine leather. I wanted to stroke silver clasps and examine suede linings. I wanted to choose which handbag would be my next goal. I wanted to slip straps over my shoulder and admire the hang of the bag in the mirror. I wanted to relax.
That’s not too much to ask, is it?
Of course, walking into Nordie’s wearing frayed jeans and a T-shirt that had CLEAN SWEEP emblazoned across the boobs was not the way to snag a personal shopper. But who needed help? I had my black Fossil bag hung on my shoulder and an atomizer of demon spray hooked to my belt loop as if it were Mace.
Hey, I said I didn’t want to kill any demons. Didn’t say I wouldn’t if pushed.
I figured that life kept getting more complicated, so to combat all of that, I was reclaiming the life I’d had up until a month ago. Back then I didn’t know a thing about demons. I lived in blissful ignorance. There wasn’t a lot of bliss to be found here lately.
I passed the makeup counter and tried not to look into the mirrors as I went. Cleaning houses doesn’t require me to do the glam thing. I was lucky most days to swipe some mascara on and hit my cheeks with a little blush if I looked especially pale. And I hadn’t bothered to clean up a little more for Logan’s and Devlin’s sakes. I mean, I wasn’t looking to seduce them into helping me.
Then I caught a glimpse of myself in a hand mirror on the nearest counter and figured it was a good thing seduction hadn’t been on the morning’s menu, after all. I still hadn’t gotten to the highlight portion of my hair color.
So, I was going to put everything out of my mind. At the mall this happens easily. The scents from the food court alone are enough to smooth all my rough edges.
And I had plenty of rough edges right about then.
“I got here as fast as I could.”
I looked over and smiled when Rachel hustled up.
“I knew I’d find you in purses,” she said. “Anything interesting?”
“Plenty,” I said wistfully, staring at a Dooney & Bourke clutch. “But my purse account’s empty after my Marc Jacobs.”
She nodded. “But it was worth it.”
“Yeah.” If, I thought, I could get the demon-caused scrape rubbed out of the leather. Whoops. The tension was back. Clearly purse drooling was over for the day. What I needed was some fries and some sugar.
Not necessarily in that order.
“Anything new on Brady?” she asked, opening up a Fossil wallet to check out the compartments inside.
“Not yet, but I’ve got a plan.”
She put the wallet back down and watched me warily. “Is this a better plan than asking me to raise Thea?”
“Here’s hopin’.”
“Glad to hear it.” She leaned on the glass counter housing the DB purse collection and looked at me. “So, have you told Logan this plan?”
“Actually,” I said, remembering our little meeting at Starbucks that morning, “yeah. I have.”
“Points for you. Did he believe the demon thing this time?”
“Nope.”
“But he’s helping anyway?”
“Yeah, but mostly because he knew Devlin was going to help me.”
Her eyes bugged out. “You went to see Devlin and he’s not a pile of dust?”
“He lives to annoy me another day.”
“Impressive restraint. Now you’ve got both of them helping you save the Faery you’re sleeping with?”
“I’m not sleeping with Brady!”
She lifted both hands. “Not yet anyway.”
“Maybe not ever.” Sad, but true. I felt a lot of things for Brady: tenderness, affection and sure, irritation. Yes, he’d tried to sucker me into handing over my powers during sex, but who could blame him for trying to stay alive? He’d done nothing to hurt me. He’d helped my kid and saved my life. How could I not care about him?
But sleeping with him? Did I really need to make my life even more complicated?
“You know,” Rachel said, straightening up, “your life is way better than most fiction.”
And less believable. Sad, but true. “You hungry?”
“Am I breathing?” Rachel said, and fell into step beside me.
We left Nordie’s, walked out into the mall and swerved in and out of the strolling shoppers. I don’t care if you want to take your time in the mall, but do you have to walk at a snail’s pace with your entire family and stop dead in the middle of the aisle? Hello? Share, people.
There were kiosks of diet aids, silver jewelry and the decorate-your-own-coffee-mug spot. There were photo booths, cell phone booths and the big black massage chairs. (Put in a dollar and have a chair poke and prod at you like it’s done to every other person in the county. Can you spell “cooties”?)
But all I noticed were the Halloween decorations.
“DAMN IT.”
“What?” Rachel skidded to a stop, lifted both hands as though she were a B-movie karate expert, and looked around wildly.
“What’re you doing?” I asked.
“Getting ready for the attack.” Then she noticed I wasn’t. She let her hands fall, glared at me and asked, “What the hell was the yelling about?”
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