Pandora's Box (20 page)

Yeah. Is it hard to believe? Are you afraid?

I don’t know. I think I stopped being afraid and stopped really
believing a long time ago. I feel more now. Now that I’ve found
you and I’ve left the cornerstone, there’s hope. I do feel that. Hope.
Thanks to you.

Come on, Riordan. Don’t go all sappy on me now that we’ve decided to be friends. She smiled. I’m kind of partial to smart-aleck
pucas. I don’t know what I’d do with sincere and brooding or hopeful types. Very disconcerting.

She felt, more than heard, him chuckling.
No chance of
that. Purification spells just seem to put me in a weird mood.

That’s understandable. Mina let her eyes close and felt her thoughts blurring just a little.

Let go, Mina. I’ll wake you in the morning.

As though his directive was all that was needed for her to do exactly that, Mina drifted off. The night’s events, from fire
jumping, to hose wrestling, to nudity in a tub, caught up with her. The experiences tangled with her thoughts and her limbs,
and soon her limbs were tangled with the dream of Riordan’s long, gleaming arms and legs.

Flesh, slippery from herb-scented water, slid against hers with heated purpose. She wrapped her arms around him, felt his
broad chest. Its swirls of hair matted by water rasped against the tender skin of her breasts. Bare now. She was as naked
as he. And wet, their skin glistening in the candlelight as they moved together. Tandem, counterpoint, searching, discovering,
scenting, tasting. He teased her mouth open and his tongue tangled with hers for a long, skillful kiss.

Mina groaned and tugged him yet closer, rolling over him and on top of him, to ride his big, naked body. She felt the hot
length of his erection between her thighs. Wanting him closer. Wanting him inside—

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Mina?”

“Mmmmph. Riordan?”

A male chuckle. “Does your dog talk?”

At the words, Mina’s eyes flew open and she dazedly scanned the bedroom before focusing on a man standing next to her bed.
“Teague?” The man kept popping in at the most startling moments.

“You sleep like the dead, woman. I knocked and knocked, then tried the doorbell. No answer. So I went around and let myself
in through the back again. Hope that’s okay.”

The back? Oh. They’d had to replace her back door and it wasn’t quite secured yet, she remembered. Teague had worried about
that. “Yeah.” She licked her lips and gazed casually around the room. “Sorry. I must have been tired.”

He frowned. “You seem kind of warm. Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine.” She frowned in remembered worry. “Have you seen Riordan? Is he in the living room?”

“Your dog? Oh, you’re worried he might have escaped.”

“Yeah. He can be determined. With the back door loose—”

“And him being so high-strung. I get it.” Teague strode toward her bedroom door and reached around the doorjamb to flip the
light switch, bringing the living room into dim view. “Yeah, he’s out here. Sleeping under the coffee table. Did you have
overnight guests or something?”

“Hmm? No. Why?” Why was Riordan under the coffee table? He was in dog form. How could she tell if the spell worked if he was
in dog form?

“There’s a pillow and blankets out here.”

Think, Mina. “I used them. I was watching TV last night and got cold. I guess I left them out there.”

“It did get chilly last night.” Teague turned back to Mina. She sat up in bed, pushing her tangled curls back off her face
to eye him blearily. She was exhausted.

And aroused. All those dreams—

“Wow. I really like the tank top. A whole lot.”

Mina glanced down at her nearly transparent white cami. “Oh. I—” She pulled the covers higher.

“No need for that.” Teague’s voice was husky as he approached her. “The view was excellent. I had a dream about you last night,
looking just like that. Until I stripped the tank top off of you.”

Mina swallowed. Hard. This was
not
going to happen. She was not going to use Teague just because she had a dream about—Cubicle walls going up.

And speaking of which. Oh, Lord. She still had a puca in her house, able to read her thoughts. She knew she’d never keep the
barrier up if she and Teague . . . Stop!

And that just wasn’t right. Doing anything like that with Teague when Riordan was in the house and—Hush!

The mattress dipped as Teague sat on it, facing her. Green eyes glowed darkly beneath that gorgeous sweep of eyelashes. The
brackets of near-dimples dented his cheeks, one deeper than the other, as he half-smiled with those sculpted lips. So sensual.

Mina closed her eyes against the sight, felt the mattress sink lower as Teague’s mouth touched hers. Oh. Oh, nice.

Oh,
bad
Mina. Wake up. She pulled back, blinking. “I—”

“You what?” Teague murmured. “You look good enough to eat like that. Wearing almost nothing, and all warm and soft with sleep.
Curls wild and everywhere. I really, really could eat you up. I wonder. Would you let me? If I’d kissed you while you were
asleep, would you have kissed me back?”

Oh, god. Probably.

But it would have been Riordan she was kissing in her sleep.

Wrong. It was so wrong. Mina clutched the covers. “Teague.” What could she say? What should she say?

He bent close again, and Mina, acting without thought, rolled off the opposite side of the bed before he could plant those
yummy lips on hers again. She was really turning into a slut. Two men making her hot. And one of those wasn’t even human.
What the hell was she going to do?

Break the curse. No other hope for it. Break the curse.

Meanwhile, Teague looked puzzled. Ugh. She was such a tease. “I have to brush my teeth. Morning breath, you know. And cramps.
I have lots of cramps.” Yeah, that’ll keep him coming back for more. Idiot. She groaned inwardly and heard the echo of a chuckle
in her head. Riordan?

Sorry.

Riordan! How are you? Are you okay? Your face. Do you have a face? Are you free? Are you waiting . . . to say good-bye?

Silence. Then:
No. It didn’t work.

“Oh, Riordan, I’m so sorry.” The words burst out without forethought.

“Huh?” Teague sounded confused.

“Dog. I have to feed the dog on a specific schedule. He has a medical condition.”

Teague looked baffled. “That is one high-maintenance mutt you have.”

“I’m just trying to be a responsible pet owner.”

“Hmm. Okay. But before you—”

Sudden pounding thudded against the back wall and a voice rose, muffled but still audible. “Teague? Everything okay in there?
Any more walls come down?” Muffled laughter.

Teague glanced over his shoulder, as though he could see through her bedroom and kitchen walls outside to his men, obviously
ready to start their day. He raised his voice. “I’ll be right out.”

“Okay. We’re ready whenever you are.”

Teague dipped his head forward before meeting her eyes again. “Sounds like I’m being paged.”

“Yeah, it does.” Nothing like a mixture of relief and disappointment to confuse the morning.

“Can I call you later? Or at least check in with you before I leave?”

“I’d like that.” Just keep the lines of communication open.

And break the curse.

I like that plan.

Mina closed her eyes. Make that, break the curse quickly.

I like that one better.

After Teague left, Riordan cautiously entered her bedroom.
Everybody clothed in here?

“Of course. And of course you know Teague is gone. What’s up?” Seating herself on the mattress again, she gave him a sympathetic
look. “Other than that spell not working?”

“Well . . .” He seemed hesitant.

“What?”

Restless, he shuffled his feet, if one could accuse a dog of doing such. “Do you remember that letter from Gladys?”

Mina leapt off the bed. “The letter. Of course. Where do you suppose it is now?”

“It’s under the bed.” Riordan, who hadn’t moved, looked even more hesitant. “Because I hid it from you that first day. It’s
been under there this whole time.”

Mina dropped to her knees and lifted the bedskirt. “But why?” She spoke under the bed. When she found she could see nothing,
she pulled back to glance at Riordan as she raked the bedskirt higher and out of the way.

“Remember that bit about . . . eliminating the puca?”

Mina paused. “You were afraid I’d really do that to you?”

“Let’s just say I could understand the appeal if you were desperate to get rid of me.”

“Yeah, but I’m not heartless. I wouldn’t just eliminate you unless you turned out to be dangerous to the human race or something.”

“I’ve come to realize that. So . . . maybe you could find it, read it, check for clues. Since I couldn’t.” He frowned. “I
actually haven’t seen it in a while. Not since that first day—”

“Well, you know I haven’t exactly cleaned the place from top to bottom since then. It must be around here somewhere. Let me
get a flashlight. Hold on.”

Ten minutes later, Mina triumphantly displayed the envelope for Riordan. “Found it!” She plopped onto the bed, stared at the
envelope front, then flipped it over to lift the flap and . . .

Inhaled sharply. “It’s empty.” She opened it wider, even slid her fingers inside, sweeping from corner to corner. Nothing.

Riordan jumped up next to her and peered into the envelope. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Lowering the envelope, she eyed him quietly. “So, is this more of the same? Are you pretending to come clean with me
so I’ll stop pestering you about the letter?”

“No, I swear. It must have fallen out. Come on, I’ll help you look for it. It must be around here somewhere.”

Twenty minutes later, Mina had counted all the dust bunnies under her bed and resigned herself to the knowledge that the bunnies
lived alone. No letter to be found. “You’re sure you hid it under here and nowhere else?”

“Yeah.” Riordan sounded grim. “Maybe it got kicked out?” They searched the rest of the bedroom but to no avail.

Mina groaned. “Look. Searching for it’s not going to work. We’ll only find it when we give up hope of finding it. Right? Right.
Okay. So . . . let’s try to crack this thing without it and hope for the best. Maybe it will turn up.”

“Unless it got tossed out with the renovation debris.”

“Oh, crap. I forgot about that part. Lots of stuff did get swept up and tossed.” An eventuality Mina just didn’t want to accept
right now.

Over the course of the next few days, Mina and Riordan searched every bin and dumpster that Teague and crew had used. They
also visited several shops on the wrong side of town—shops with bars across the windows and scary loiterers circling the vicinity.
They interviewed fortune tellers and white witches and iffy witches, collecting—and paying for—various spells and sachets
and even a little gris-gris from a voodoo practitioner. Then they talked to a priest, who basically trotted them out of his
office before Mina could say five words. Exorcism, apparently, was a sore subject with the Church, while excommunication was
not.

Back at home, they tried each and every concoction and combination they could find. Caught up in the experiments and conscious
of their deadline approaching, Mina even postponed returning phone calls from Teague until they became less and less frequent.
It was disappointing but not exactly unexpected. She didn’t have the time to devote to a relationship right now and didn’t
have the energy to keep putting off a desirable man without driving him away. A clean break was better than messy, she decided,
not without regret. After all, he’d finished the renovation project and all that was left was paying the bill, which her insurance
company had agreed to do.

Riordan, who didn’t tease her about Teague anymore, complained of pruny skin from all the cleansing baths he was forced to
take, along with a skin reaction to some of the herbs. Until now, Mina hadn’t known a puca could fall victim to hives. Neither
had Riordan, at that.

Still, one last spell involved a little bit of everything they’d learned and tried, as though bits and pieces of fire, water,
prayer and sincerity of symbolism were combined into one perfect concoction. Riordan, who’d grown jaded with the process before
this, even held out hope of this experiment working.

The appropriate words spoken with quiet ceremony over incense and candlelight, Riordan dunked his head as instructed in a
baptism-like attempt at cleansing and rebirth. Then he rose from his knees, droplets of water, herbs and ash clinging to his
skin, but kept his naked back to Mina.

Mina stared at him, heart in her throat and afraid to breathe. Did it work? Was he free? “How do you feel?”

“Well, let’s give it a whirl.” Riordan seemed to brace himself. Mina, familiar with his nudity by now but no less affected
by it than she was the first time she saw him, waited quietly. She was almost sick with hope. It had to work.

After a moment, Riordan glanced down into the water, peered more closely at his reflection, but then sighed and turned to
her. He voiced what she already knew. “It didn’t work.”

Mina slumped. “Damn it.” She watched, helplessly, as Riordan stepped out of the tub and pulled a towel off the rack. He used
it to swipe water off himself, then pulled the plug to let the water out. Mina snuffed out candles and incense burner.

Without another word, he grabbed his tunic and pants and left the room. A few minutes later, she heard the back door opening
and closing, then silence. Emerging from the bathroom, curious and worried about him, Mina craned her neck to watch and saw
his profile through the window, well within his usual boundaries of the back porch. Obviously he needed time alone and Mina
couldn’t blame him for it. She was failing him. His hopes had to rise with every experiment they performed only to fall when
she failed—and he had way more at stake than she did.

Hell, she had nothing to lose. No boyfriend now that Jackson had cheated on her and left her. No prospects now that Teague’s
interest had so obviously cooled. Sure, it was at least partially her own fault for being so careless with his feelings and
attention—after all, the phone lines did allow calls in both directions—but she’d hoped for at least a little more persistence
from the man. She’d really liked Teague.

Sure, she had a house and a job back. But that was all thanks to Riordan, whom she was failing. This just really, really sucked.
Feeling sorry for herself, she swung open the fridge door and shoved leftovers and milk aside. She pulled out the nearly full
bottle of wine she’d ignored for . . . D id wine go bad after a month? Who knew? Who cared?

Seriously wallowing now, Mina plucked a wineglass out of the cabinet and set it down. Then she popped the cork on the bottle
and shamelessly filled the goblet to the brim. Hey, maybe there was inspiration at the bottom of a wine bottle.

Setting the bottle down, she raised the glass in an ironic toast and gulped a third of it. Too fast. She choked a little,
wiped her mouth, and drank some more.

Bottle in one hand and wineglass in the other, she moved her pity party to the living room and slumped down on the floor behind
the coffee table, her spine braced against the couch. She dragged the latest stack of books closer. Flipping through the pages,
she smoothed dog-eared corners of experiments they’d already tried, and turned down corners of pages with new ideas. Was she
wasting her time? She didn’t know. She just knew she couldn’t give up on Riordan. When the back door reopened half an hour
later, Mina glanced up. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He sounded so serious.

Mina’s newfound hope crumbled. “I’m so sorry, Riordan. I really thought
this
time—”

“So did I.” Carefully skirting the table, he dropped to the floor next to her.

“We’re running out of time. And I’m running out of ideas.”