Heart of Stone (26 page)

“I’m good, Fil,” she responded, her mouth relaxing into a smile as she focused again on the present. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know. I’m still waiting for fame, fortune, and Chris Hemsworth to show up on my doorstep, but other than that, things are pretty good.” There was a slight pause, and the woman sighed. It was a good sound, relaxed and mellow. “It’s good to hear from you, Ella. I’m really glad you called.”

Once again, Ella felt a surge of pleasure. She got along well with people, and she knew she could probably call Bea a friend, but the easy acceptance of the woman on the other end of the phone warmed her. It also made her a little sad when she realized that she still didn’t let many people get close to her. Maybe she needed to change that.

You know, once the fate of the world no longer hung in the balance.

“I hope you still think that once I tell you while I called,” she said, trying to inject some levity into her voice.

“Totally. If you called to ask me a favor, I’ll just make another call specifically so we can catch up and gab part of my price.” The comment was so typically Fil that Ella grinned into the phone. “Whatcha need, sweetie?”

“Nothing too crazy,” Ella assured her. “I’m trying to get some information, actually, on a piece of statuary I heard might be in one of the museums out near you.”

“In Montreal, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“You still in BC?”

“Vancouver,” she confirmed. “Hence the need for the favor.”

“Sure. Tell me more.”

And here’s where things got tricky. Ella called up the story she’d rehearsed in her head earlier and tried to keep her voice casual.

“I’m at Vancouver Art and History now, and—”

“Whoa, isn’t that the place that just got robbed?”

Crap. Ella had been hoping the news hadn’t spread all the way across Canada yet. She’d have to regroup fast.

“Um, yes. Actually, that’s part of this whole thing. I think the piece we lost might have a companion out there in Montreal. Something with a similar theme and style.”

Ella heard the rustle of paper on the other end of the line before Fil said, “Something in a twelfth-century limestone grotesque, perhaps?”

Her snooty French auctioneer impression made Ella laugh. “Exactly.”

“I can’t say I’ve seen anything like that around, but there’s always the chance someone has it tucked away out of sight. Or, if the two pieces are related, they may be tucking it out of sight right now. Although, how someone steals a half-ton statue without leaving a single clue makes me think I’m reading one of those locked-room mysteries.”

“You and me both.” Ella didn’t mention that it made a lot more sense when you knew the statue was alive and those wings really worked.

“What do you need me to find out?”

“Just if someone’s got it and where it’s at. Can you do that?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods? What’s going on? Does your director want to buy a replacement for the one you lost?”

Ella forced a laugh. “‘Lost’ makes it sound like someone dropped it behind the sofa.”

“Semantics. So?”

“Um, I’m not sure,” Ella hedged. “I’m just gathering info. I don’t know if it’s for insurance or replacement or what. But if you can let me know, it would be a help.”

“You got it, sweets. Want to hear about today’s special pricing plan?”

This time a genuine laugh escaped her. “Sure, Fil. Just remember I’m a poor, underpaid art historian, though.”

“Well, right now we’re running a one-for-two offer,” the other woman teased. “I do you this one favor and you promise me two things.”

“Shoot.”

“Okay, first, you give me your number, address, and e-mail right this very minute and promise me never to let it go this long before we talk again.”

Ella’s throat tightened. She had figured Fil remembered her warmly enough to agree to do her this favor, but she had never expected to be embraced like a long-lost friend. She hadn’t thought she was anyone’s long-lost friend. It felt good to be wrong.

“I promise,” she managed after a short pause, then recited the information while Fil scratched it down.

“Perfect. Now, for number two.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Promise you’ll come visit.”

Ella froze. Go to Montreal on a friendly visit? In between being targeted for fricassee by minions of evil and learning how to cast magical spells against said evil minions. Sure, no problem.

“Uh, things are a little … crazy right now, Fil.”

“What’s the matter? You got a new guy you can’t climb off of?”

Her choked gasp spoke for her.

“Holy hell, you do!” Fil roared with laughter. “Way to go, little Miss Retiring Flower. Is he hawt?”

Fil’s outrageous mouth had always been able to make Ella smile. This time, it also made her cheeks flame. “Yes, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Well, then bring him along. But, seriously, I didn’t mean right now. We’re not college students anymore, right? We have to worry about things like jobs and vacation time and airline prices and all that crap. Just tell me you’ll come see me.” Her voice softened. “I miss you, El. I really am glad you called. Even if it was to ask for a favor.”

“I am, too. Thanks, Fil.”

“No worries. I’m delivering a finished portrait to the Heath Gallery tomorrow, so I should have time in the next couple of days to check out the big boys.” Montreal had several museums with collections that could include a statue the size of a Guardian. “As soon as I find something, or decide there’s nothing to find, I’ll give you call.”

“You’re the greatest.”

“I know,” Fil replied matter-of-factly. “And now I know how to find you, so don’t think you can hide from me, Ella Marie.”

“No, ma’am.”

Fil laughed and hung up with a cheerful good-bye. Ella turned off her cell phone and stared at the blank screen for a few minutes. Her old friend’s warm greeting and enthusiastic conversation had taken her completely by surprise. She hadn’t expected a reaction like that, not after all these years.

Lately, it seemed like nothing turned out quite the way she expected it would, from phone calls to mind-blowing sex.

Which circled her mind right back to Kees.

Not that he was often far from her thoughts these days. In fact, he seemed to occupy a part of her brain that was large and growing.

Not to mention very, very confused.

What was she going to do about him? Every time she thought she had the gargoyle figured out, he changed the rules on her. First he told her he felt nothing for her, then he proceeded to devour her like a starving man, and then he spent the next week treating her with as much warmth and attention as a piece of furniture. That hurt her, a lot, but she’d seen the writing on the wall, and she had backed off. She hadn’t pushed him, hadn’t demanded to know how he could fuck her one minute and ignore her the next. She had just bitten back the pain and moved on.

Until last night, when the rules had changed again. Even after they’d talked in Alan’s kitchen, even after their souls had been magically bound together, she hadn’t pressed him. She’d thought she knew where things stood, and she’d been prepared to live with that. And then he touched her, seduced her, made her world tilt and her heart slam in her chest. He made her fall in love with him all over again.

The Guardian blew hot and cold, and Ella just couldn’t keep up.

She’d known she was acting like a coward when she sneaked out of bed this morning. The instant she opened her eyes, she’d felt Kees’s arms around her, his long, hard body snuggled up against her back, heating her more thoroughly than an electric blanket. Every moment of the night before had come flooding back to her, and she remembered the way he had taken her apart, inch by inch, touch by touch.

She remembered saying, “I love you.”

Her stomach had clenched, and she felt panic well up inside her. She had told him, hadn’t been able to hold it back, and in speaking, she handed him the only weapon he needed to destroy her. She heard her words again, and heard his answering silence.

She couldn’t stay there. She couldn’t remain in that bed, feeling his arms around her, feeling him hold her as if she were precious to him. She couldn’t lie there and wait for him to wake up and see her next to him, then watch him turn right back to stone.

She wouldn’t survive it again.

Like a coward, she’d peeled herself out of his arms and fled to the bathroom. Getting ready for work had been her excuse, her shield against him, but he remained sleeping while she took the world’s fastest shower and dressed like fugitive. Or a ninja. Never in her life had she managed to move so silently, and she doubted it would ever happen again.

In the end, it was two hours too early when she’d left the apartment. She didn’t need to be at work until nine, so she made the trip on foot, taking her time, even stopping on the way for a cup of coffee and a pastry. The coffee at least had warmed her cold hands, but she’d picked at the pastry with disinterest and ended up feeding most of it to the pigeons in the little park down the street from the museum.

A glance down at her desk told her the overindulged bird would have made better use of her lunch as well. She’d taken one bite of a sandwich and managed a couple of pieces of fruit, but her appetite remained elusive. At this rate, she’d be able to market the latest diet craze—the Gargoyle Gut-Buster! Guaranteed to shave inches off your hips in as few as seven days!

With a muttered word to herself, Ella tossed the remnants of her food in the trash can and pushed out of her chair. It was time to get back to work. Her next tour group was due in a few minutes. She only hoped that a class full of nine-year-olds would provide enough of a distraction to let her spend at least an hour or two of her day not brooding over the man waiting for her at home.

A girl could dream, right?

*   *   *

By seven o’clock that evening, Kees had made a list of the spells he thought Ella should concentrate on, eaten two meals, tidied the kitchen, made the bed, indulged in a shower—though he’d needed to be in his human form to squeeze into her small tub for that—and watched a fascinatingly horrible television program about vampires who attended high school and appeared to have remarkable amounts of sex. He shook his head over the idea that the myth he remembered being used to frighten villages earlier in his existence now appeared primarily aimed at selling automobiles and alcohol.

After turning off the television, Kees rose and stalked over to the window that looked out onto the street. He expected Ella home any minute now, and he had plans for his little human’s return. At some point they might even make time for those magic lessons, but first he intended to take her again and demonstrate in no uncertain terms that sneaking away and leaving terse notes was not acceptable morning behavior.

The patience that came so easily during Kees’s long periods of slumber eluded him now, and it took a concerted amount of effort to keep from leaving the apartment and going after his tardy human. He knew she must be getting close to the apartment, since he’d witnessed her schedule through all of last week, but logic offered him little comfort. Instead, he had to rely on sheer determination to get him through the waiting. He propped his shoulder against the window frame and settled down to watch for her.

Ten minutes later her familiar petite form stepped into view and moved toward the apartment. She wore a long coat and a hat against the slight chill, but he recognized her shape and the way she moved. Of course, if he’d doubted the accuracy of his eyes, the squeezing of his chest would have told him exactly who approached. Only Ella made him feel like this—alive, aware, with a heart of beating flesh, not cold, ragged stone.

Ella disappeared beneath the awning that sheltered the windows of the small boutique on the ground floor, as well as the door to the interior tenant stairs. Despite himself, he began ticking off the minutes it would take her to unlock the outer door, climb the two flights of stairs, and reach the apartment where he waited.

Impatience sent him striding across the room. If he met her at the door, he could open it for her and save the precious seconds it would take her to fit her key in the lock and send the tumblers into action.

He nearly had his hand on the knob when the sound of voices stopped him. Frowning, he heard Ella’s feminine tones, then something lower. A man. His little human wasn’t alone.

When he pulled the door open, he wore his human body and a penetrating stare. The stare became a glare when he recognized one of the figures that accompanied his female. Detective McQuaid looked just as happy to see him as Kees was to see the detective.

“Kees.” Ella smiled at him, the expression slightly strained at the edges, but then, he knew what her genuine smile looked like. He doubted the humans would notice.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he said, deliberately leaning down to brush his lips over hers, staking a visual claim in front of the flirtatious policeman. “You’re late. I was starting to worry.”

“Buses,” she explained, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on the old-fashioned tree behind the door. “You remember Detective McQuaid, don’t you? He was at the museum last week about the missing statue.”

“I remember.” Kees nodded at the human. He didn’t offer to shake hands, having no desire to make the visitor appear welcome. “Detective.”

“Mr. Livingston, wasn’t it?” McQuaid nodded curtly in reply and gestured to the shorter, stockier man behind him. “This is my partner, Detective Harker.”

Again, Kees jerked his chin, but he said nothing more.

Ella stepped close to him and leaned into his side. His arm immediately came around her.

She looked up with another of those not-quite smiles. “The detectives were waiting for me downstairs. I think they have a few more questions about the museum theft.” She turned back to the intruders. “I’m happy to tell you whatever I can, but I think we covered most of it already. Can I, uh, offer the two of you coffee? That’s what people always do on TV, right? Offer coffee to the police.”

“Thanks, but we’re good,” McQuaid said with one of his pretty boy smiles. “This won’t take long.”