Aphrodite's Kiss (22 page)

With a sigh, she ran her hands through her hair. So much for all of Deena’s hard work. At least Taylor had seen the products of their labor, even if she’d managed to stay tidy for only a few minutes.

Frowning, she let her gaze roam over and through the crowd, trying to find the man of the hour. How long could it take to find drinks, anyway?

All the guests were perfectly coiffed, congregating in little groups that almost seemed color-coordinated. A gaggle of green here, a bevy of blue there, a pride of pink across the lawn. Finally Zoë caught sight of Taylor making his way past a flock of females dressed in fuchsia. He waved, his smile making her feel warm and safe.

He pointed toward the bar and she nodded, leaning against a stone likeness of one of her ancestors while she waited for him to return with something cold and sparkly. Despite the fact that champagne would probably make her mouth explode, she felt the need for something festive. Something that would hopefully lift the cloud that had been following her since Mordi had pulled them over.

She hugged herself, fighting a shiver. She’d seen the cop’s eyes and suspected, but when the fluctuation had caught him, she’d been sure. He’d adjusted quickly, but the truth was clear: Mordichai was after her.

Why?

And why had he mugged that woman?

Only one explanation made any sense—the tests were beginning.

For years she and Mordi had gone head-to-head as the council assessed their skill levels as halflings. It only made sense that her application field test would be against Mordi. But still, that didn’t answer the real question—what were they supposed to do? How was she supposed to beat him? Surely she wasn’t supposed to have jumped out of the car and gone at it with him on the road? For one thing, Taylor would have seen. For another, she didn’t have any reason to fight Mordi—at least, none that she knew of.

If they did fight, would the winner be automatically admitted to the council? Would the loser become an Outcast?

She swallowed, not liking that particular possibility. Her father had told her that Outcasts walked among mortals, but were neither mortal nor members of the council. It was like being in superhero purgatory, and Zoë didn’t think it sounded like a good time at all.

Whatever the answer, she knew one thing for certain— Taylor was in the cross fire.

She needed to get rid of him. Needed to make him go home, go away. Somehow get him clear. Keep him out of danger.

She scanned the party, wishing her father or Hale would swoop down. She could really use some advice right about now. For every other test, they’d been right there with her, ready to offer their comments—whether she wanted them or not.

But tonight, when she really did want their help, they were nowhere to be found. Apparently, for her final exam, she had to go it alone.

An elderly woman stepped aside, and Zoë saw Taylor heading back to her with two flutes of champagne.

“Hey, beautiful,” Taylor said, pressing a glass into her hand. “Miss me?”

“Of course,” she said, meaning it, then immediately tried to figure out a way to end their date quickly. The thought of him getting hurt was enough to make her nauseous, and she sincerely doubted that Taylor was any match for the kind of creatures she might end up facing.

They stood next to each other, looking out at the glassy surface of the distant ocean. The sun had just started its descent, and sunbeams played across the water.

They stayed like that, in companionable silence, until Taylor slipped her hand into his. Suddenly the silence filled with the gentle tingle of bells and fairy songs, and Zoë realized she felt perfectly and completely at home. The feeling had nothing to do with her senses—it was in her heart, in her head. And it terrified her as much as it enticed.

She blinked and tugged her hand away, frowning. She wasn’t supposed to feel like that. Not about a mortal, not when all she wanted was a fling. Not when the only thing she’d been planning was to take Zoë Smith and her supersenses for a test drive.

“Are you okay?”

When she looked up, she saw that Taylor was watching her, concern in his eyes. She tried out a smile. “I’m fine,” she said, and it was the truth. She’d never been better, and the realization terrified her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Emily,” she said, only then realizing that the teacher had been on her mind. “My friend. The one you were trying to dig up dirt on. Why did you stop looking for her?”

“You.”

Her eyes widened. “Me?”

“You,” he repeated. “You were right. I didn’t enjoy it. And I realized the only reason I was working was to pay the bills.”

“That’s a pretty good reason to work,” Zoë admitted.

“I can’t knock eating, but if that’s all I wanted, I could have stayed with the police department.”

“I don’t understand.”

He nodded but remained silent. Then he said sharply, “Why are you here? Why this big production for your mother, I mean?”

She frowned, not understanding where he was going. “Well, she worries about me. Dating. Alone in the big city.” She shrugged. “You know.”

“No, I really don’t. I wish I did, actually.”

She started to ask what he meant, but stayed quiet, somehow realizing that he was collecting his thoughts.

After a moment, he shifted, facing her more directly. “I never knew my mother. I grew up in foster homes, shuttled from house to house.”

He picked up a stone and tossed it absently over the cliff. After a few seconds, Zoë heard it splash lightly into the water below.

“I didn’t mind the moving,” he said. “I minded not having a home, always tiptoeing about. Never feeling a part of anything that happened. I just had walls. But what’s so special about walls?”

Without moving his head, he glanced at her. “I’d never even met my real parents, and yet I hated them. Ripping my life apart like that. Dumping me in the middle of a Wal-Mart like a toaster they wanted to return.” He blew out a loud breath. “In my mind, they made a mess of my life before it even started.”

Zoë nodded, silent. She couldn’t imagine hating Donis or Tessa, but she understood what it was like to be ripped down the middle by events over which she had no control. And, Zeus knew, she knew what it felt like to not belong, to feel like a guest in one’s own world.

Gently she took his hands in hers. For a moment they just stood there; then he flashed her a devilish grin, turning the moment lighter. “Of course, I wasn’t the easiest kid in the world to deal with, either. According to my social worker, finding me a permanent home was harder than finding a hot-dog stand on the moon.”

Zoë cringed, wishing she could give that social worker a nice, hard kick in the—

“Hell, he was probably right. But I ended up in a lot of not-so-great houses. Saw a lot of not-so-great things.” He caught her eye. “Terrible things, actually. Terrible people doing terrible things, and I was just a kid. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.”

He shrugged, shaking a bit, as if trying to shed the memories. “By the time I got out of school, I knew two things for certain: I wanted a real home, a real life. And I wanted to do everything in my power to stop people like the ones I’d grown up around.” He shrugged. “Spying on folks like Emily Parker didn’t exactly fit that bill.”

For a moment he turned away, looking out toward the ocean, his eyes wistful. Then he blinked and his face hardened, but Zoë could still see the vulnerable boy beneath, and her heart wrenched.

“Well,” he said, turning to her. “There’s my life on the line. What about you, Zoë Smith? What is it you want?”

A good question
. She nibbled on her lower lip as she thought about everything he’d said—everything he wanted, and everything he’d been denied. They were such simple goals, really: stopping the bad people, living the life his parents had denied him.

“I want pretty much the same thing,” she said, realizing as she spoke that the words were completely true. She wanted exactly the same thing as a mortal. So maybe they weren’t really that different after all.

“Just a normal life,” she added. But the question still remained—what was normal for her?

“I thought so,” he said with a smile. He stroked her cheek, and she shivered. “I hope you get it, Zoë Smith. I hope we both do.”

As he turned slightly, his eyes widened, and then he leaned in toward the yard, squinting at something off in the distance. “Is that Hoop?”

Zoë glanced across the lawn. “That’s him all right.” She raised a hand to wave.

Taylor squinted some more. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He nodded, but didn’t look convinced until Hoop came a few yards closer. “So it is, and he’s coming over here. Damn. Company.”

She laughed. “It is a party. I think we’re supposed to mingle.” Not that she would have raised serious objections to spending the entire night alone with Taylor. “Besides, we still have to deal with my—”

“Mother. I know. Not that I’m eager to share your company, but we are supposed to be playing the perfect couple for your mother.” He squeezed her hand. “And I’m a natural for the role, if I do say so myself.”

Hoop crested the small hill and joined them.

“What are you doing here?” Taylor asked. “Schmoozing?”

“I don’t schmooze,” said Hoop. “But I do accept invitations for parties where alcohol and tiny little sausages on toothpicks are being served.” He offered Zoë a plate piled high with appetizers. “Munchie?”

“No thanks.”

Hoop squinted at her. “Deenie did your makeup, right?”

“Yup. She pretty much insisted I wear some.” She tilted her head back and smiled at Taylor. “You’re the occasion, actually. Usually I go with more of an au naturel style.”

“I think you’d look fabulous au naturel.” Taylor winked. “Completely natural, actually.”

Her cheeks warmed as Hoop laughed.

“My buddy Taylor’s not one for subtlety,” Hoop said.

Taylor shrugged. “Just telling it like it is.”

Hoop nodded toward Zoë. “Well, if Deena was hoping to make you
Cosmo’s
new cover girl with that makeup job, I think she needs to put in a little more practice.”

“What do you mean?”

Hoop tapped his forehead. Experimentally, she wiped her finger above her brow, then looked at her hand— black grease. She sighed and almost ran her hands through her hair before remembering that would only make things worse.

“A little bit of grease doesn’t bother me,” Taylor said with a laugh. “Still, it doesn’t seem to be keeping in line with the other guests.” He dipped the corner of a handkerchief in his champagne and moved closer, dabbing at her forehead.

She held her breath, forcing her body not to rip into a million pieces just because of his touch.
So far, so good
. Maybe concentration really was the key, because it seemed to be working. Instead of being on fire, she felt warm and safe. Instead of feeling like she needed to run, to burn off kilowatts of unspent energy, she felt secure and taken care of.

What a wonderfully nice feeling . . .

“Where is Deena anyway?”

Hoop ripped a little sausage off a toothpick with his teeth. “With yer muffer,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, then swallowed. “She’s with your mother. By the fountain.”

“Deena?” Zoë said, sure her voice was squeaking. “With my mother? As in talking? Together? By themselves?”
Oh, Hera’s handbag
. Why couldn’t they have reached the party sooner? This had
disaster
written all over it.

Taylor looked at her. “What’s the matter? Afraid she’s going to reveal all your deep, dark secrets?”

“Actually, I just thought she’d tell my mom about our little arrangement.” She bit her lower lip. “But now that you mention it...” She grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come on.”

“Hell of a grip you’ve got there, lady,” he said, limping a bit as he jogged alongside her.

She glanced at him, noting the way he favored one leg. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s sore, but fine.”

“What happened?” she asked, then regretted the question as she saw his pained expression. It lasted only a second, but long enough for her to know she’d touched a nerve. “Sorry.”

“No, I don’t mind telling you.” He drew in a breath. “I screwed up.”

“How?”

“I was trying to protect a witness. I shouldn’t have moved her out of the safehouse, but I thought it had been marked. Her former boss managed to tail us, and I caught a bullet.”

Zoë swallowed. “Was she killed?”

He shook his head, pointing to his thigh. “This was meant for her.”

“Then you saved her.” Her heart swelled as she imagined him risking his life for an innocent woman.

A flash of anger played across his face. “I shouldn’t have endangered her in the first place. I was arrogant and stupid.”

“It sounds to me like you were trying to keep her safe. You couldn’t have known you were being followed.”

He snorted.

“So you quit because of that?”

“Sort of.” He glanced at her, as if considering saying more, then shrugged. “It’s like I said earlier. They were going to put me into some administrative job. Research or some such nonsense. Have me work a desk until some other desk jockey gave me an okay to return to the field. Me. The guy who’d earned more commendations than anyone in the department. I told them to go screw themselves.” He rolled his eyes. “Actually, I was a little more polite than that, but I left all the same.”

“Is it that important to be in the field? I mean, most of being a detective is using your head, right?”

He gave her a wry grin. “It was that important to me.”

“I’ll buy that,” she said. “But you only answered half my question.”

He jammed a hand into his pocket. “You sound like Captain Dodsen.” He scowled, his forehead furrowing. “ ‘Taylor, being a detective’s about brains, not brawn. Come back and do some good.’ ” He shrugged. “The thing is, I know I can still do the job.”

“You can’t do it from a desk?”

“I shouldn’t have to,” he said. “And anyway, now I’m doing it on my own.” He shrugged. “So you wanna tell me why we were rushing?”