Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (29 page)

“Now that I have answered your questions, will you speak to mine?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“What does the demon want from you? Does it promise to return your lover in exchange for your soul? Has it demanded a bargain?”

“No. The exact opposite. It said the same thing you did. It told me I would not get him back. Apparently, Maeve’s appeal is as widely known as mine is totally pathetic.” I sounded like a dejected lover instead of a demon-fighting warrior, not exactly reassuring.

He frowned, eying me. “You asked for its help. That was most unwise.”

“Not as unwise as you might think. It wanted to prove its truthfulness. I decided to test it, nothing more. My soul is not up for barter. I don’t know what I can do to convince you.” I leaned forward, examining him. “Vince told me he could sense whether someone was being deceitful. Is this something all sidhe can do? Do you have the same ability?”

“No, I do not. That would be a useful skill. Perhaps Maeve was not as impulsive as I’d thought. What other gifts does your lover possess?”

I hesitated, unsure whether this was something I should divulge.

He interrupted my thoughts. “Stop. It was rude of me to ask. This is something only he should share.”

I released the breath I’d been holding and gave him a nod. “How’s your head?” I asked, eager to get away from the subject of Vince and the demon.

“Fine.” He reached up and rubbed his hand along the back of his head. “Bruised.”

I looked down and fiddled with my robe’s knotted belt. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t make me happy knowing I hurt you.”

“You have no reason to apologize. You were trying to protect yourself and your lover. I understand. I was angry and treated you poorly. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

I nearly corrected him, wanting to confess the uncomfortable truth that Vince and I weren’t lovers in the biblical sense, but I smoothed my robe over my legs instead. “Thank you for saying so.” I clasped my hands in my lap and met his eyes. “I don’t hold it against you, Kieran.” Even as I said it, I realized it was true.

“Nor I you.” He nodded and got up from the bed. “I will leave you to your sleep. Do you—?” He hesitated. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Red’s here. He’ll wake me if he thinks I’m having another nightmare.” It occurred to me that he might have asked because he hoped I might want him to stay. “What about you? Are you … feeling okay? Have you been able to sleep?” I stood too, which, once again, put the bed between us, and glanced at the digital clock on my nightstand. It was 2:43 am.

He shrugged. “Some.”

“Is the—?” I came close to asking whether the high level of magic was bothering him but realized this would only lead to the idea of him sleeping closer to me. I quickly amended, “Um, I mean … are you warm enough? I can get you another blanket if you aren’t. Or … if you’re having trouble sleeping, I can make you some warm vanilla milk. I do that sometimes when I can’t sleep. Or, I have an app on my iPad …” I wondered whether he even knew what an iPad was but kept rambling, “It makes soothing sounds.” I waved my hand around. “You know, like the ocean or rain drops, stuff like that. Or maybe you don’t need as much sleep as humans do?”

He smiled, and I imagined he was trying not to snort and roll his eyes. “You needn’t concern yourself. I will be fine.” He turned to go, saying over his shoulder. “Sleep well, Lire.”

“Uh, thanks. You too.”

He closed the door behind him as he left.

Honestly. Warm vanilla milk?

I covered my face with my hands. “God. Why do I always sound like such a total dork around him?”

Red patted me before jumping down to the bed. “Nonsense. You charm him.”

I barked out a laugh. “Right. Because stammering like a dingbat is so totally charming.” Not for the first time, I wondered why I cared even one iota what Kieran thought about me.

I sighed and muttered, “Vanity, thy name is Lire.” It was the only explanation. I was a vain woman who didn’t like knowing an elegant creature like Kieran thought she was an unappealing, useless twit.

You need to shut up and stop worrying about what other people think.

After throwing my robe over the footboard, I snuggled back under the comforter, plumping my pillow under my neck just right, but sleep was a long time in coming. I worried about my decision to strengthen my connection with the demon and kept imagining I could still smell Kieran’s otherworldly scent. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered why Maeve felt it was necessary to punish him.

If I dreamed, nothing woke me.

After one of my speediest showers on record, I made my way downstairs at just past eight. I found Kieran’s bed linens folded neatly in a stack on the leftmost couch cushion but no sign of the demon-obsessed sidhe.

“Good morning, Lire,” Red called from his chair.

“Hey.”

I glanced toward the downstairs bathroom, but I could see, even from the family room, the door was ajar and the light off. The kitchen, too, was empty. The smell of homemade cookies lingered, mixing pleasingly with the scent of brewed coffee.

Before I could ask Red where Kieran had gone, I spotted my lime-green Post-It pad in the middle of the kitchen table. One of my black roller-ball pens had been left alongside it.

In perfect flowing script, Kieran had written a note explaining he had gone out with Daniel and Michael. If they met with no adversity, they would return late in the afternoon.

That doesn’t sound ominous or anything. Thank you, Kieran.

He also added Daniel’s ‘request’ that I not leave the building for any reason.

I found it irritating that he hadn’t even bothered to sign his name.

“Terrific,” I muttered, anxiety and lack of caffeine definitely making me grumpy. “My first love note from Kieran. I’m supposed to stay put like a good little dog.”

“So I understand.”

I poured myself a mug of coffee and then fixed it so it was the appropriate color and sweetness. “Any idea what they’re up to?”

“I heard some mention of a coterie.”

I took a sip from my mug before sliding the pint of half and half back onto the top shelf in the refrigerator. “Coterie? What the hell is a coterie? It sounds like a French pastry.”

Great.
Now, I had a sudden craving for an almond croissant and I couldn’t go out and get one.
Damned telepaths.

Red ambled into the kitchen. “It is a word that denotes a group of individuals with a unified purpose or interest. A coven is a coterie.”

Thanks for the lesson, Mr. Merriam-Webster.

I bit back the petulant retort, issuing an acknowledging grunt instead, and scanned the pantry for breakfast ideas. The closest I could get to a croissant was buttered toast. I grumbled under my breath, setting about to prepare the hopeless substitute, while I gulped from my favorite pink travel mug.

Red stopped to regard me from the floor, not far from my kitchen chair. “Although I was not included in their discussion, I believe they are meeting with a contingent loyal to the sidhe. As they departed, I heard Daniel speak to their hope of locating their last emissary.”

“Didn’t Kieran say something about that last night? A number of their emissaries have died recently. I wonder if their deaths are part of the
difficulties
Maeve scolded Daniel about.”

“Since the emissaries provide their only means of communication to the Otherworld, that is a reasonable guess. Possessing just one emissary would indeed be a grave complication if they hope to have any influence over the coming invasion.”

“Do you honestly believe all this, Red? A demon invasion? It sounds so melodramatic.”

“If the information had solely come from Paimon, there would be ample reason to doubt it. But Kieran has confirmed Paimon’s portents. I believe Kieran to be honorable, just as you do. And there is the undisputed fact that Daniel and Michael have been aware of Invisius’ ongoing relationship with the sidhe, even if they did not know the exact reason for their dealings.”

“Well, the way things are looking, we’ll have three months to get his
lordship
to spill all the juicy details.” I slumped against the counter. “Although, after yesterday, I don’t know how the hell I’m going to get through him staying here for that long. The guy never stops watching me. He makes me feel like one of Jane Goodall’s chimps.”

“I think you intrigue him.”

I burst out laughing at the absurdity. “I’m sure Dame Goodall finds her chimps intriguing too.”

“Do not be so quick to judge.”

Red’s disapproving tone cut my amusement short. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop,” I replied but snickered before blurting, “Maybe later he’ll tell me if his observations have revealed whether my kind has evolved from the vain, weak-minded creatures he remembers with such fondness.” I cracked up again.

Shaking his head at me, he left the room. Red knew to quit while he was ahead.

After some consideration, I decided I could well use the down time. Lord knew, I had plenty of work to catch up on and, as much as I might wish it, my laundry wasn’t going to do itself. While I ate my toast, I planned my day.

Kieran’s knock came not long before dinnertime. Trotting to the door from the kitchen, I reminded myself to give him a key since it looked like he’d be staying with me until midsummer. The thought made my stomach lurch. Just two days ago I’d given one to Vince.

Maybe you should give a key to Michael and Daniel, too, while you’re at it.
I gritted my teeth.

Waiting patiently at my threshold, Kieran greeted me with his characteristically reserved stare. At the end of the hall, Peter and Jerome’s door closed with a loud
clunk
.

“Hi.” I stood aside, allowing him to enter. “Come on in.”

“Thank you.”

“When I get a chance, I’ll have a key made for you so you can come and go as you please.” I took in his strained expression and stopped short. “Unless … oh, God. The couch was horrible for you wasn’t it?”

I’d fallen asleep on it more than once while watching a movie, but that didn’t necessarily mean others would find it as comfortable.

He smiled reassuringly. Dark stubble coated his jaw, framing his defined, thoroughly kissable mouth. Not that I noticed such things. I added another reminder to my list: Set out a disposable razor and shaving cream where he could find it. Until I got to the store, he’d have to make do with my lavender-scented shaving gel.

“The couch is fine,” he replied. “The day has been rather long, that’s all. You’re kind to think of a key, but you needn’t go to the trouble. I have the power to enter without one, although I wouldn’t do so without your prior consent.”

I remembered how his shadow had slipped between Maeve and me when I’d attempted to dive tackle Vince out of her arms. “Well, you have my permission to come in anytime you want. Although … a little warning before you slide under the door would be nice. To keep me from jumping out of my skin when you materialize out of nowhere.”

“Of course. I’ll announce myself first.” Another brief smile visited his lips. This one had the benefit of being a tad crooked.

It was too early to know whether smiling came easily for him or if I’d be stuck with his impassive stare for the majority of the next three months. Two tentative smiles in under a minute gave me some hope. Of course, the lack of lighthearted moments over the past thirty-six hours probably had something to do with his somber demeanor. I could imagine being ordered to take a human chimp for a wife, followed by a decisive beating by said chimp, would rain on any virile sidhe male’s parade. Never mind being relegated to the chimp’s nest for food, clothing, and shelter.

I might have giggled, except I found myself more sympathetic than amused by my thoughts.

As we ambled toward the family room, I looked him over. I didn’t see any signs of injury, but his gait struck me as being heavy. Despite his protestations about the couch, maybe he hadn’t slept well last night. “Sit down. I was just going to grab myself a Diet Coke. You want anything?”

“What you’re having will be fine. Thank you.”

I brought him the can. I noticed him studying me as I bent the tab to open mine and then folded it flat again.

He’s never seen this type of tab-top can before.

Perhaps half the reason he watched me so keenly was because some things were foreign to him. I’d imagine if our roles had been reversed, and I was stuck in the Otherworld, I’d be struggling to acclimatize too.

I settled into my leather club chair, put my heels on the coffee table, and drank from the cold can. “So what did you guys do today?”

“I accompanied Daniel and Michael to Portland.” He took a sip of soda and then rotated the can in his hands, examining it.

“Why Portland?”

“We hoped to discover what happened to the emissary there.”

“And did you?”

“Yes.”

I raised an eyebrow and stared at him until he got the message.
For God’s sake, just spill it.

“He was murdered,” he said.

My heart sank. Without an emissary, it would be impossible to negotiate for Vince’s return.