Blue Diablo

“I know where she lives,” Saldana said quietly.



I caught the undercurrent. One of his exes? I knew about Heather, now Maris, and who else? If there were a few more, he rivaled me for busted relationships.



A half smile curved her mouth. “I suppose you do. I don’t recommend you risk a hotel, though. You’ll need protection and there’s nowhere safer than right here. You can borrow the guest apartment upstairs.”



“Why are you being so nice?” There had to be a catch.



Saldana frowned at me even as she replied, “It often proves helpful to have people in my debt, Corine. You would do well to remember that.”



Right. Her kindness concealed a mercenary bent. Oddly that reassured me. Since I didn’t want to be awakened by flying glass, I decided to accept her offer.



Before standing, I downed my drink. “I’m pretty tired. Can we go up?”



“Certainly. Jesse knows the way. It was a pleasure meeting you.” As I reached the door, following Saldana, she added, “By the way, you’ve carried the weight of a lie your whole life. Your father didn’t leave. He was taken. More patterns than you know bind you and your former lover.”



I would have turned, asked more, but Saldana took hold of my arm, leading me along the dark hallway toward some stairs. “That was meant to tempt you,” he explained, “but to get more information from her now, you’d need to offer something else. I don’t think you’re in any shape to do another reading, and anything else would be . . .” He trailed off, letting me interpret the kind of thing Twila might ask.



I shivered. “Thanks.”



Between residual nausea and the tequila spiking through my veins, I felt both euphoric and shaky. Saldana kept his hand on me as we climbed to the next landing, where he opened the first door. We stepped through to a flat I could only describe as witchy, full of cut crystal figurines and blue velvet.



Two more steps and I collapsed on the overstuffed couch. Jesse sank down beside me, his hand hovering as though he didn’t know what to do but wanted to do something. After a moment I managed a smile but it came from a place that hurt, newly raw.



“I should have warned you. Twila can be . . . intense. And she is assuredly not to be trusted, but she isn’t one of your enemies, which makes her an ally, if a dangerous one.”



“Enemies. You say that as if you’re sure I have loads.” I tried to laugh.



His bitter chocolate eyes turned somber. “You’re too wary for it to be otherwise, Corine. I’ve never met anyone more . . .”



Broken? Closed? I waited for the word confirming me as one of his pet projects. I felt a soft sinking inside because that would mean he could never see me as a person, only something in dire need of fixing.



Then he shook his head. His arm came around my shoulders, as if he’d finally made up his mind what he should do. “Lean on me until you feel better. It’s all right.”



I suspected he’d said that many times over the course of his checkered career, but in that moment, I weakened. His chest felt warm and strong against my head. I closed my eyes, listening to the steady thump of his heart. Bit by bit, the nausea receded, left me with the dull throb of my seared hand.



An empathic cop for a mentor. Who would’ve ever imagined I’d wind up with such a thing? That suggested an avuncular relationship, but the way he held me didn’t feel entirely paternal. I liked his quiet strength and his heat, perhaps a little too much. Too easily I could lose myself in sex. I imagined leading him to the bedroom and lying down on smooth sheets, imagined rough breathing and the sweet tangle of limbs.



Jesse rested his chin on my hair until I sat up. “I’m fine now. We should—”



By the lambent light in his eyes, I could tell he sensed my mood, if not the specific thoughts. He licked his lips and pulled his hands away from me.



“The worst thing about this,” he said hoarsely, “is that I don’t always know what I want. I feel what other people do . . . and it’s hard to separate their desires from my own, particularly when it’s raw lust. It’s easier when it’s a girlish crush since I’m not susceptible to those. But sheer, animal sex . . . yeah. I’m prone to that.”



I didn’t touch him, but I wanted his mouth, and he knew it. “Then you already know I’m in the mood for a quick, hard fuck. I don’t want sweet words or promises. I want a hot body on top of me, and that’s all, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”



Jesse exhaled shakily. He swayed toward me. “It’s sounding better by the second.”



“Would you want me if you weren’t echoing my impulses?” That was it, I realized. “Am I your type?”



Soul of Discretion



“I don’t know,” he said in frustration. “No, I didn’t take one look at you and imagine doing you on my desk yesterday. But I don’t have a type either. Right now you look fine and you smell great.” He spoke the last word on a growl.



My heart pounded. Much as I wanted to give over, I couldn’t. Part of me felt it was one thing to leave Chance wondering whether I had and quite another to do it. I also couldn’t lay down with Jesse without knowing for sure he wanted me back. Me, not an echo of my own lust—that seemed too close to masturbation. Not that I object to such, but if I’m going to do that, I might as well get on with it and not catch some poor cop in the backlash.



“It’s not a good idea,” I repeated. “I’m going to get some sleep.”



Saldana dropped his head into his hands and his voice came out muffled. “Second bedroom on the right. I think I’ll take a shower.”



My knees trembled as I retreated. Any more of him and I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions; too bad, because I didn’t really want to be. Deep down I’d love it if he took me on the floor like an animal. If nothing else, this proved he intended only my introduction around here, though. He truly meant to be my mentor before I distracted him. I sighed over that as I shut the door behind me.



Fey and winsome, the room matched the rest of the apartment. I coveted the bed with its strange carvings and the matching side table that sported claws on its legs. After stripping to my camisole, I crawled beneath the covers. The things Twila had said worked on me, though, and I found it hard to sleep.



When I finally did, I dreamed of great rushing things made of wind.



I woke early to the first fingers of light stealing across the floor. Nobody had disturbed me that I could recall, and either Twila’s wards held, or nothing came looking for me during the night. For the first time I began to feel anxious about Chance. I’d always assumed I was the eye of the storm and that trouble followed because of me, but what if—



Well, I refused to entertain the possibilities when I was two hours away and couldn’t see if he was all right.



Saldana sat at the small bistro-style table in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee. He looked even rougher than I felt.



“You’ll want another shower before we go see your ex,” I mumbled. It’s hard knowing what to say the morning after you didn’t sleep with the guy who probably would’ve been a glorious, mind-blowing mistake. “Then I need to get back.”



“I’m not sure all the showers in the world will help,” he said dryly. “But noted.”



I made myself some toast. Apparently Twila’s hospitality only ran so far, as the cupboard offered a box of tea, instant coffee, cornflakes, and some stale bread. It wasn’t bad slathered with jam.



When he emerged with his tawny hair slicked back, I decided I could do with some freshening up too. I didn’t want to meet someone new looking like I’d been pulled backward through a hedge. By the time we were ready to go, the ornate wall clock in the living room read quarter to eleven.



“Some day off, huh?” I muttered.



He grinned as we made our way downstairs. The sun shone bright for a November morning, and in daylight the area looked even seedier but not actively dangerous. Jesse read my look and said, “Twila is more dangerous than anything you’d find on these streets. Half the community owes her one way or another, so it would take some steel balls to try anything on her home ground.”



“Good to know. Maybe some of her scary will rub off.”



After deactivating the alarm on the Forester, he opened my door for me. “You’re fine the way you are, Corine.”



“If you say so.” I got in, none too sure of that.



We drove across San Antonio to a neighborhood just off the freeway. Nothing stood out—all the houses were built along the same styles. The only differences came in lawn ornaments or siding choices. Jesse parked the SUV before a pale gold house whose front yard boasted an impressive collection of bearded gnomes in various poses.



Despite the warmth of the sun, a chill crawled down my back the closer we came to the house. It was the middle of a workday, true, so perhaps that explained the unearthly stillness, but there should be birds at least. I heard nothing but silence.



Saldana cut me a sharp look as he rapped on the front door. “Maris should be here. She does palm and tarot readings from home.”



“Is she legit?”



“Yes.” He sounded distracted. “She’s a gifted witch. I’ve seen her work spells that nobody’s managed since they wrote the grimoires. If anyone knows the range on that sending, she does.”



Nobody answered.



Wordlessly I circled around to the garage and peered through the side window. Amid shadows thrown by piled junk, a car sat waiting to be driven. He came up beside me with a question in his eyes.



I shrugged. “Well, if she’s gone, someone must have picked her up.”



“Is it too Han Solo of me to say I have a bad feeling about this?” I loved the way he dropped his Gs, the Texas twang of his voice.



I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Do you know where she kept the spare key?”



In my experience, most people hide them somewhere stupid, like taped to the top of the mailbox, under the welcome mat, or inside a fake rock in the flowerbed.



In answer Jesse went straight to a lawn gnome and upended it. “She never changes a thing.” His tone held a melancholy fondness. “Let’s take a look then.”



“Is this questionable legal ground for you, officer?”



“We have a key,” he said, which didn’t quite answer me, but I let it go.



As soon as we pushed open the door, the place let out a little gasp, like air settling back from an imbalance. The faint breeze carried the scent of rotten eggs. I didn’t want to go farther, but I wouldn’t let Jesse out of my sight either so I stayed close on his heels.



We found Maris in the bedroom.



“Jesus,” Saldana said while I fought to keep my toast down. “It looks like wild dogs got at her.”



I couldn’t look away from the horror etched into her pallid face or the bloodstained carpet beneath her. The room smelled sickly sweet, faintly of copper and decay. He was right, though. Bits of her flesh were missing, as though something had fed.



“Somebody set a lower demon on her, something hungry and stupid.” I could tell he didn’t want to believe that by the way he hesitated, so I went on. “These people aren’t messing around. They really don’t want us to find out what happened to Yi Min-chin.”