Split at the Seams (38 page)

I didn’t bother scouting the area to check if someone was following me or not. I was so mentally exhausted that I drove around without any sense of direction for an hour, eventually ending up at the office on pure instinct.

Personal revelations are never a good thing, especially when they come from complete strangers who claim to know you and can successfully hide their true nature.

What the hell was going on with my life?

I’d ruined a potentially wonderful night with my boyfriend so I could meet an old guy with declarations that sounded more like riddles. And I’d almost managed to forget the real reason Oren called me there in the first place. The physical leak in the fibers was puzzling. At least I’d gotten that much from the incident.

As for the statements regarding my power and Grandma, I’d think about them another time. At the moment, I was happy to sit in the dark alone, like a mushroom.

“Are you in here, Fox?”

I switched on the desk lamp when I recognized the voice calling out from behind the office door. “Yeah, come on in, Papan.”

He pushed the door and entered with a smile on his handsome face. “Are you working late again, or were you secretly waiting for me to pop in?” The wink made my stomach flutter, forcing erotic images from the dream I’d had about him to the surface with a rush of heat.

I sucked in a breath. “I wasn’t exactly working.”

“Yeah, right, the workaholic tries to cover her tracks.” Papan laughed and I felt the sound more than heard it. Jason Papan is tall, in his early thirties, with dark blond hair and eyes the strangest shade of green I’ve ever seen. Sometimes they look a mossy green, others hazel, and even a little on the amber side. The shade changes depending on the light, just like Ebony’s choice of nail polish.

“I could say the same about you.”

“Of course you could. But unlike you, I actually have to work extra hours if I want to make ends meet.” He stopped near Ebony’s desk, and I couldn’t look away from the dimple on his left cheek. “And I’m always hoping that you decide to pay me a midnight visit, Foxy Lady.”

I gulped. He likes to call me Fox, or Foxy Lady when he’s feeling flirtatious. I call him Papan, no matter how I’m feeling. Right now, I was feeling a little excited, still recalling bits and pieces of the naughty dream I’d had. I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked with a smirk.

Papan fell into the chair usually occupied by Ebony and it squeaked beneath his weight. He stared at me from across the desks with an amused expression. That’s how he always looked at me. “It means that I wouldn’t mind if you paid me a visit wearing nothing but a trench coat and a nice pair of red heels.”

“I don’t wear heels.”

He closed his eyes and sat back. “In my fantasies, you wear heels quite often.”

Heat warmed my face and I was glad we were almost in the dark. What the hell were we doing? As usual, he was teasing me. Though, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to his so-called fantasy.

I cleared my throat. “So, Papan, what are you doing in the office tonight?”

Papan opened his eyes and shrugged. That cheeky grin didn’t leave his lips and cute matching dimples now appeared on each cheek. Did he always have to look so sexy? “Oh, I don’t know, putting in some overtime…and still getting nowhere near as much as you spook catchers get paid. What I earn is peanuts compared to what you guys make per visit.”

“Stop bitching, I know you’ve got clientele.” My insides were quivering. Why was he having this effect on me? Oh, who was I kidding? Papan always made my insides turn to jelly.

“Which reminds me”—Papan took a deep breath, his face hidden by the shadows reflecting in from the windows behind me—“did that lady eventually come to you, a Mrs. Hocking?”

“Yes, thanks for referring her. She’s got some freaky problems. Listen, did you ever uncover anything about this so-called cult she mentioned?” I needed any lead I could get at the moment. I was actually glad Papan had dropped in. At least he’d turned my focus back to something I could deal with—work. He might’ve started with cheekiness, but it looked like we were back on track.

“Ah, I was wondering if she would mention it to you.” He pressed back against the chair, eyes still on mine. “When she approached me, it seemed to be her focal point. She raved on about how these mysterious people brainwashed her husband, stole his identity and eventually his life, but I think the person she should’ve suspected the most was him. He was into some heavy witchcraft. Honestly, you have to get out there, Sierra. All those books and apparatus, I didn’t know what the hell I was looking at. But I
was
able to find out that these people she called a cult are actually something very different.”

“What do you mean?”

Papan leaned forward, elbows on the desk, without breaking eye contact. “Tell me, did your little assistant appear uncomfortable while the Hocking woman was here?”

I shook my head. “Ebony? Nah, why? I mean, she was freaked out by the whole thing, but other than that, no more outrageous than usual.”

“Ah, well. She’s good, I’ll give her that.”

“Papan, spill the beans, you’ve lost me.”

“Look, all I’m trying to say is that maybe you should talk to her about the group that meets in the abandoned church on the corner of Wallace and Trent. I found your assistant there while I was scouting the area.” His eyes were shiny in the dark. They looked a little freaky, almost glowing.

“Are you sure?” It didn’t make sense. What would Ebony be doing down there? And why wouldn’t she tell me about it? She’d had plenty of opportunity after Carleen Hocking left. We’d been alone for several hours. “Did you approach her?”

He shook his head and a blond strand of hair fell over his face. “Nah, I was undercover, but I’m positive it was her.”

“That’s odd.”

“Yes, odd. Just be careful with who you trust, okay, Fox?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? Just spell it out for me, okay? Pretend I’m some dumb idiot who finds it hard to grasp things and tell me slowly. I just spent a whole afternoon with someone full of riddles.” I pushed the chair back and stood. Then strolled over to Ebony’s desk, pressed my butt against it, and peered down at Papan.

He pushed his elbows off the desk, leaning back into the chair again. Papan looked good tonight, better than I’d ever seen him. Maybe he was finally taking care of himself. His wiry frame seemed a little heavier, which probably meant he was back to working out.

No, I didn’t want to think about Papan shirtless and sweating while he lifted weights.

A memory struck my mind. I tried to shove it away, didn’t need access to
this
particular flashback while we were this close, his pants touching my leg.

We were upstairs, in his office.

I’d dropped off some mail accidentally delivered to our office instead of his and he’d taken me by total surprise, pressing me up against the back of his door, holding my wrists above my head as his lips pressed down on mine, wrapping me up in a breathless kiss.

Only our lips touched, almost as if he’d gone out of his way to keep our bodies apart. Teasing and causing my body heat to rise, and my desire to peak…

A promise of so much more that never developed into anything. It happened shortly before meeting Jonathan.

I hadn’t thought of our kiss in a long while because Papan mostly kept his distance nowadays. Job referrals were how we got along. I was actually surprised he was here now, but was glad because I found comfort in being this close to Papan.

“Earth to Fox, is anybody home?” He was propped forward in the chair, one hand waving in front of my face while the other clung to the armrest.

“Ha, ha,” I said, getting my mind out of the gutter. I had to avoid his eyes, afraid he might see what I’d been thinking. Somehow, Papan always managed to distract me with his looks. There was something very alluring about him.

“Anyway, all I’m saying is that sometimes the people we think we can trust the most, can’t be trusted at all.” Papan paused long enough for me to digest his words. This was definitely a message. “And sometimes they pay good money to find out more about you.”

My eyes widened in shock. “Are you telling me someone hired you to spy on me? Is that the real reason why you’re here?”

He shook his head and stood. “No, I’m here because I happened to pass by on my way home, that’s all.” The twinkle in his eyes said otherwise.

“Who’s paying you for info about me?”

Papan was so close the heat of his body caressed mine. “You know I can’t tell you. I’ve signed a contract, which confidentially binds me to the client. But I
can
tell you they’re paying a hell of a lot of money to find out what type of cases you’re delving into. Maybe
they’re
hoping to beat you to them.”

It’s better to be a bad witch than a dead one.

Bewitched, Blooded and Bewildered

© 2012 Robyn Bachar

A
Bad Witch
Story

One thing stands between Catherine Duquesne and happily-ever-after with her soul mate Lex—her unwanted bond with billionaire vampire Zachary Harrison. Married life is hard enough without adding an uninvited vampire to the mix, and being tied to Zach endangers more than just her relationship. If Zach dies, she dies, and with his new seat on the necromancer council being challenged by older, more powerful masters, his life expectancy is dwindling fast.

Vampire politics is only the beginning of Cat’s problems. Hunters are stalking magicians, abducting entire families and killing anyone who resists. As the current Titania and Oberon, Cat and Lex must protect their people, but Cat’s dark past keeps the victims from seeking their help. Worse, the former Titania’s granddaughter wants to oust Cat from the job, believing her vampire ties make her unfit.

To break the bond Cat must broker deals with devils on a journey that will take her to hell and back—literally. Freedom comes at a high price, but Cat will risk anything to save her people and her marriage.

Warning: This book contains explicit language, faerie shenanigans, a field trip to hell, even more magician sex, and gratuitous violence against vampires, demons, hunters, helicopters and the kitchen sink. And if you want to know how the very sexy Lex swept Cat off her feet, check out Blood, Smoke and Mirrors.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Bewitched, Blooded and Bewildered:

Even if we solved my necromancer problem, the hunters were still out there. Not exactly the best time to be starting a family. Funny how it seemed, for each step we took toward Happily Ever After, something moved it another pace away. I rubbed my eyes, the first pangs of a headache twinging in my brain.

“You okay?” Lex asked.

“I’m just tired. And weirded out. I mean, kids. They’re stealing kids. What the hell could they be doing with them? And what’s up with the demon angle?”

“I don’t know. Don’t think about it. There’s nothing we can do right now.”

“It’s just so frustrating. We’re supposed to be helping people, and we’re just…”

“Powerless,” he finished, and I nodded. There was an odd glint in his light blue eyes, and I sighed. If Lex was powerless it was because I’d made him that way. Oberon was almost like a cosmic demotion from guardian, and he’d done it to be with me. I wondered if he regretted it, and my mouth asked the question before my better sense stopped me. “Regret what?” he asked, frowning.

“Choosing this, instead of…you know. Staying a guardian,” I said.

“Choosing you, you mean.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. Zach had assured me that if it had been him, he would have chosen me in an instant. That he would have accepted me as quickly and easily as the two shifters had just done in front of the faerie council. Lex hadn’t done that. He’d asked for time to think about it, and eventually he’d come around to accepting it. His hesitation didn’t inspire confidence or warm, fuzzy feelings.

“Do you regret it?” he asked.

“What, ‘de-guardianifying’ you? I regret that it makes you unhappy,” I replied.

“I’m not unhappy.”

“But it bothers you. I can see it. It’s like your hands itch when you hear Marie talking about her day because you want to get involved and you can’t.”

“That’s not the same as being unhappy.” He sighed, his hands on his hips as he looked down at me. It wasn’t hard—he was taller than me, especially with his boots on. “This whole thing with Harrison makes me unhappy.”

“And we’re fixing that, aren’t we?” I pointed out.

“Are we? You’re the one campaigning to keep him around after that.”

“Because we can’t afford to be fighting each other when we’re supposed to be fighting the hunters. The shifters talk to Harrison. They trust him more than they trust us.”

“Probably because you keep insulting them,” Lex said, scowling.

“Lord and Lady, don’t you start too. Do you honestly think those two tigers could do a better job than we do?”

“That’s not my point. My point is you play nice with the vamps, but you’re still trashing the shifters. If you want to pretend to be impartial, that means everyone, shifters included.”