Cassandra's Dilemma (12 page)

Finally. Three months of discussions, meetings, protocol, and patience led up to this moment. She would finally hear the secret behind the Danae Corporation’s interest in her and her marketing firm. She would finally satisfy not only her curiosity but also the desire to understand her enigmatic potential clients. She’d never willingly jumped through so many hoops before without at least some idea of what awaited her in the winner’s ring.

“I do so swear.” Cassie laid her hand over her heart as she offered her oath. The words hung in the air, pregnant with meaning. Tabitha Danae studied Cassie and the air around her, weighing her against some invisible scale.

Of course, maybe she should have just chosen the blue pill.

A Homeland Security agent made visiting the blast site considerably simpler. It helped that Book was in on the investigation and that the crime-scene techs were done sifting through the ashes. Investigators had abandoned the area to the tourists, the park goers, and the homeless. The occasional reporter seemed obvious from the way they watched every person that approached with a narrow, focused look.

Helcyon and Book shadowed her steps, placing themselves between her and strangers whenever she paused. They walked around the burned area, wandered aimlessly being a more accurate description, looking for some clue that the crime-scene techs may have missed.

She put their chances of discovering anything provocative at slim to none. “What are we looking for?” She shot a look at Helcyon, eyebrows lifted in inquiry. “This is probably some bad prank or someone’s idea of scaring people off from…” She floundered for an idea. “Something.”

It sounded weak to her ears, but she just couldn’t imagine the kind of personality that would lead someone to commit so much death and destruction.

“People don’t set bombs to scare people,” Book interrupted before Helcyon could answer. The closer he moved toward her, the further away Helcyon went. It was as though the kinetic energy they possessed repulsed one when the other was close. “Bombs are set to damage and to kill. Someone set this bomb to do maximum damage.”

“And to kill someone—but who was the target? My client or me?”

Helcyon moved up on her elbow then, one hand touching her lower back as though to comfort. “That is part of what we investigate, Special Agent Book and myself.”

“But you’re worried that I’m the target?” Cassie cocked her head to the side, looking first to Book and then to Helcyon. “That a bomber tried to use a bomb to kill me.”

In her pocket, her cell phone vibrated. Cassie jerked it out, eyes on Book, and silenced the call. Michael again.

“Yes.” Book didn’t sugarcoat it.

She thought it was better to hear it straight.

She thought wrong.

“You knew what you were announcing, Cassie. You knew you were making
them
public—”

“Apparently so did you.” Cassie gave Book a harder look. The breeze blew across her face, carrying the scent of ash and car exhaust. “Wasn’t that what you were questioning me for earlier?”

“Until that Feth Felen showed up, I wasn’t sure. There were rumors and rumblings. But do you have any idea what you’re about to do?”

“My
job
.” Why was it so damn hard for the men in her life to understand? It pissed Michael off that she maintained her confidentiality. It seemed to be aggravating Book that she refused to treat the Fae like bogeymen. Her breath clogged in her throat. She had no idea what Helcyon thought.

“Your job?” Book scoffed. “It’s your job to expose the world to their nightmares come to life?”

“They aren’t nightmares. They aren’t perfect, but they aren’t nightmares.”

“Correction, they aren’t
all
nightmares. But some of them
are
. You don’t know all of them, and you don’t know how
easily
they can persuade you to their side.” Book leaned into her, his size and scent looming like a shadow. A shadow she wanted to engulf her. That sensuous thought bubbled through her. Hard, rugged, and fierce. He wouldn’t be a gentle lover. He’d be demanding. His hands would touch her everywhere, strip off her clothes, and she could imagine he’d bend her over and drive into her mercilessly.

She soaked her panties just thinking about it.

“Actually, Wizard,” Helcyon interjected lazily. “She is not susceptible to our glamours. That is why she was chosen. She is
cadránta ceanndána.”

The pressure in the air dipped and then expanded once again as Book focused on Helcyon. “Cadránta ceanndána, truly? Her mind is closed. Bloody minded and stubborn.”

“Truly. The Danae wanted one who could not be compelled by us or by our foes.”

“By my kin.”

“And our mutual enemies. Exactly so.” The corner of Helcyon’s mouth turned up fractionally, his amusement taking a wry twist. “She is precious to us. She is perfect for the presentation—she is well trusted, well connected, and she is—”

“Standing right here, so you can stop talking about me in the abstract.” The raging ardor in her could be distracted. Being talked about in the third person could do that. No matter how sexy they were.

“Temperamental,” Book suggested.

“Passionate,” Helcyon countered.

“Control freak.”

“Powerful.”

“Tempting.” Book didn’t sound happy about it.

“Very.” But Helcyon did.

Cassie threw up her hands in disgust when it became obvious the two were going to continue their little sidebar about her whether she stood there or not. She chose not.

Moving away from them, she looked back at the blasted area. The setting, early in the day, fresh air, bright sunshine, some green, and the bustling city as a backdrop, would be ideal.

The associated use by the president in a previous election was just a plus. If the mind drew comparisons between what she offered in her announcement and what the president offered, then that was all the better in her book.

She frowned. She still didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking for. Trash littered the area, detritus turned to confetti by the explosion. She tried not to think too hard about any remains that may have been incinerated in the area.
In fact, let’s not think of that at all.

Closing her eyes, she tried to picture the morning. Billy standing on the podium. He was checking the equipment. Did he do a sound check?

The sound of the water replaced the distant chattering of the press corps. The corner of her mouth quirked upward as she envisioned all those voices to be geese and water fowl rather than journalists waiting to hear why a wealthy benefactor had summoned such a large press conference. She’d initially planned the conference for the steps to the museum, but the clients preferred the open space of the park with Lake Michigan spread out in the distance.

Everything was in place. Billy performed last-minute checks. Her watch vibrated. She glanced at the dial face before pressing the alarm off. She would walk down and in five minutes begin her opening remarks. Skin flushing, Cassie took a deep breath and buried her nervousness under the veil of professionalism. In a few short minutes, she was going to be at the center of a news story that would cascade throughout the nation and eventually the world.

Heady stuff.

Tipping the mocha cup back, she drained down the peppermint and chocolaty sweetness. Touching a finger to make sure the corners of her mouth were clean, she disposed of the cup into a trashcan. Her gaze found Billy on the bandstand. The air buzzed, humming like a bug zapper on her grandmother’s back porch.

He gave her the thumbs-up.

Cassie looked over at the fountain. It was turned off. But she could still hear the sound of the water splashing. She could still smell the faint odor of wet cabbage. She could still see Billy’s thumbs-up.

Water.

Cabbage.

Thumbs-up.

Cassie looked at the fountain then back to where the bandstand stood. Back and forth her head swiveled. “It should have knocked me in the fountain.”

“What should have?” Book and Helcyon asked in unison, standing less than a foot from her. She ignored them for a moment.

“It should have knocked me in the fountain,” Cassie repeated, crossing the empty, burned expanse to where she’d stood. The trashcan she had deposited her mocha cup into lay on its side, the metal twisted unnaturally and the hard plastic cap cracked.

“The explosion happened on the bandstand.” She whirled to look at them. “But something diverted the energy. If it hadn’t, I would have been blown in the water, but I wasn’t. It knocked me sideways. It took out the trashcan the same way. It rolled from there.” Cassie pointed toward the southern end of the debris field, to the benches and the playground.

Helcyon’s brows raised, considering. “Are you certain about where you were standing?”

“Yes.” Cassie nodded. She may lack clarity on a number of issues, but not this one. She’d been in the direct path of that firestorm, but instead of engulfing her, it went around.

“She was close to the water,” Book commented.

“That’s a stretch,” Helcyon replied, but neither man seemed to want to include her in their discussion. She needed to find a Fae- or Wizard-for-Dummies book just to translate the subtext.

The sound of children laughing and playing drifted over from the merry-go-round. Despite the hell unleashed just days before, life returned to the park. Cassie stared at the playground, frowning. The playground was empty.

No kids are playing there. Why am I hearing them?

She refrained from asking the question out loud. Considering the amount of weird in her world right now, hearing things fell fairly low on the weird meter.

Book and Helcyon prowled around the abandoned playground. Shoving her hands in her pocket, Cassie glanced back at the bandstand. She could still see his thumbs-up.

Tears pricked her eyes. “I’m sorry, Billy,” she whispered. “I’ll figure out who did this to you.”

“I’m counting on that, boss,” Billy said, assuming Helcyon’s customary spot at her elbow.

Okay, weird meter exceeded.

Cassie shrieked.

Chapter Eight

Helcyon’s sword appeared, and Book’s hand covered the Sig Sauer inside his jacket. Both men turned to flank her as she stared, mouth agape at Billy.

“What is it?” Book demanded in the absence of any obvious threat. The men relaxed fractionally, but only fractionally. They were both staring intently at Cassie, who tried to focus on anything other than Billy’s soft features.

“It’s absolutely nothing,” Cassie stated firmly, more interested in persuading herself than dissuading her erstwhile protectors. Helcyon planted himself in front of her, eyes on hers.

“Cassandra, you screamed. Something frightened you. What?”

“It was my imagination. I keep replaying that day over and over in my head,” Cassie lied. Too much she didn’t understand, and the last thing she needed was a fast track to a rubber room by confessing the ghost.
If it is a ghost.

It can’t be a ghost.

Right?

“Good plan, boss, don’t let them know you can see me. I don’t think they have your best interests at heart. They are both playing to their own agendas, and I don’t like how they keep leaving you out of the loop on the decision making.” Billy stood there in his tan, off-the-rack, faux-silk suit from Dillard’s.