The Naughty List (7 page)

David narrowed his eyes. “Well, well, Sneaky Shopper,” he muttered to himself as the woman wandered off. “I think I need to leave Rosalie another note about you. Let’s see how inconspicuous you’ll be once your secret identity is broadcast to all the employees…and those red glasses are just plain goofy-looking.” He made a promise to himself.
That smile will be back on your face tomorrow, Rosalie.

Good intentions. That’s all it was…

Pleased, he looked around for the girl and locked gazes with a pair of stunned brown eyes not more than six feet away.

“David?”

Oh, shit.

He dropped to the floor and dashed-away. Now he stormed across Penrose’s roof. “Bright, David. Really bright.” He had spooked her. She’d report him to security. They’d check the cameras at night.

Shit, again.

David stood in a funk. Rosalie was on guard now. He couldn’t search Penrose’s unnoticed during the day and continued to have no luck at night. He rubbed his weary eyes. The frustrating search wore him down, and the link g Cnd durrew fainter every day.

Maybe he should talk to the girl. He could apologize for upsetting her and explain his mission. Rosalie knew the store. She could tell if something was altered or moved. If he explained about The Book and the importance to all of humanity…

David groaned. “She’ll call the cops or the nearest loony bin. Either way, I’m so screwed.” He squared his shoulders. “Suck it up, David. She’s your last chance to find The Book.”

Her address wasn’t hard to track down. He dashed-away into her car and pulled out the registration. The big question concerned the best method of approach. David sighed. Talking to girls had never been his strong suit. For a moment he wished Billy was with him. The hellhound would come up with a good line. Not that Billy needed one. When you’re six foot three and built like a man-god, talking was largely unnecessary.

Perhaps if he came bearing gifts?

David found Rosalie’s apartment and used the last of his cash to purchase Chinese take-out from a restaurant called the Golden Palace across the street. He waited inside and watched out the window while practicing lines.

“Hi, Rosalie. I’m not a stalker.”
Oh, God.

“We’re all in terrible danger.”
Seriously?

“I know Santa.”
Shit.

Rosalie parked her car and entered the apartment building. David bucked up his courage, picked up the take-out bag, and followed her inside.

****

Grace looked up as Sadhri entered the room. “Anything?” she asked the shiva.

“Not much. If anybody knows squat about the theft, they’re not talking. How about you?”

“The same, except I discovered one curious little tidbit. Dominic made the rounds of the lower level demons.”

“Interesting. He’s supposed to keep in touch with his constituents, of course. Not that he cares about anyone who doesn’t use their powers to draw a six-figure salary.”

“He met with Latisha last week.”

“Really? Dominic never had any use for the Fury before.”

“I need to find out what changed.” Grace grabbed her handbag. “I already called. She’s expecting us in her office.”

The head of the clan fury worked as an investigator for the Office of Domestic Violence in the Department of Social Services in New York. Latisha had a cramped cubby up on the third floor. She was on the phone when they arrived and motioned them to sit. “I got it,” she barked into the receiver while scribbling furiously on a pad. “I’ll chat with him. Don’t worry, Angie. I guarantee he won’t show up there again… No, don’t call the police. I’ll take care of it…Uh-huh…You’re welcome… Goodbye.” She hung up the phone.

“Problems?” asked Grace kindly.

“Not for long. My client’s ex-boyfriend tracked her down and threatened to kill her if she didn’t come back. He and I will have a word.” For an instant, the woman’s delicately manicured fingernails lengthened into razor sharp talons before Latisha forced her emotions under control. “What may I do for you two ladies?”

Grace dropped her voice. “You know what happened, of course.”

Latisha’s voice went from cold to compassionate. “Of course, I’m so sorry. What they did to Brian is awful.”

“Thank you. Latisha, I think something else is going on.”

“Like what?”

“I heard you met with the Baal.”

“You wonder what Mr. Personality wanted with a low level demon like me.”

“I mean no disrespect, Fury.”

“None taken. You and Brian always treat everyone square. I swear Dominic’s uncle, the previous head of the baal clan, never speaks to anyone who isn’t a golfing buddy.” She furrowed her brow. “The meeting was odd, actually. Dominic is supposed to keep tabs on the demon population, but this is the first time he ever called me in to ask about the other furies—are they satisfied with how things are handled…that sort of thing.”

“Is that all he wanted?”

“Yup. Like I care about politics,” she snorted. “I think he’s all bent out of shape because of talk again about putting a human warden on the council. Now that I think about it, maybe he wanted my opinion.”

Grace’s eyes shot open. “A human warden? This is the first I heard about it.”

“Comes up about once a generation. Don’t know what the big deal is and I told him so. Hell, he has as much human blood as the rest of us. After all, his mother was human.”

“It’s more about sharing power,” said Sadhri. “Another vote on the council means less influence for Dominic.”

Latisha shrugged. “Could be, or maybe his uncle is on his ass. The old Baal never wanted anything to upset the status quo. I told Dominic everything was hunky dory with the furies. Now if you’ll excuse me ladies,” she flexed her fingers. “I gotta go
persuade
Mr. Martino to leave his ex-girlfriend alone.”

Grace filled in Brian on her next visit. “Was Latisha right? Could the wardens put a human on the council?”

“Stephen is all for it. An odd number of wardens prevent deadlocks. His dad, the last Odin, was old school like Dominic’s uncle—stay hidden, don’t make waves. Many Integrals now want something more. The opportunity for advancement within the corporation is limited, especially for lower level clans. Many want to assimilate into the human world, but need help. Look at Latisha. She’s a hard-working civil servant with a human husband, two kids, and a mortgage. She had to find a way out on her own and deal with criticism from the old guard.”

Grace eyed her husband lovingly. “You were always concerned their voices weren’t heard.”

“Some wardens listen. Stephen asked me at the party for my support even though I’m not a warden. He wanted to meet later to talk over a plan to approach the others.”

Her eyes flew open. “You didn’t tell me—”

“I planned to. The request slipped my mind when The Book disappeared.”

“No wonder he wanted your support,” Grace remarked. “You have the respect of Integrals across the board. Did you agree?”

“Of course.” He raised a questioning eyebrow. “You think the theft has something to do with this?”

“I don’t know, but I’m certain Dominic’s hands aren’t clean.”

“Unfortunately, love, the wardens need stone cold proof, not belief.” Grace understood her husband’s meaning. All the proof was in The Book.

Brian forced a smile. “Now kiss me quick before you say goodbye.”

Her eyes saddened. “Touching hurts you.”

“It helps me more.”

****

Rosalie had sto Csal>

A knock sounded at the door. Rosalie groaned. She was not in the mood for company. Maybe if she stayed quiet, the person would go away. Someone knocked again.

“Rosalie?” A man cleared his throat. “May I have a word, please?”

She wrinkled her brow, not recognizing the voice. Sliding the chain across, she cracked open the door.

“Hi. I’m David. I’m not a stalker—”

She slammed the door in his face. How dare he show up at her home! Rosalie’s fingers clenched.

“Please,” he begged. “I really need to talk to you.”

She glanced around for her purse.

David rapped again. “Rosalie, give me five minutes…one minute?”

She reached inside and pulled out an aerosol can and her phone. He would so regret this.

“You don’t understand.” David pounded on the door. “You’re in danger.”

The door whipped open. Rosalie stood tight-jawed with a small aerosol can in one hand and her cell phone in the other. “Either cops or pepper spray. You have five seconds.”

“Rosalie, please—”

“Four.”

“If you just—”

“Three.”

“Please, listen—”

“Two.”

“Um…I know Santa.”

“One.”

David vanished. An instant later two hands behind her yanked both the can and cell phone away. She spun around and stared dumfounded as he threw the pepper spray on the floor and put the cell phone in his pocket. How did he move so fast?

“Rosalie, if you only—ow!” She kicked him in the shin. “Quit it! I won’t hurt you. I only want to talk.” He motioned to the bag on the floor. “I brought dinner.”

“I don’t care if you brought your own personal chef!” she yelled. “Get the hell out of my apartment. You…you…snitch.”

He looked completely perplexed. “I think we have a
misunderstanding—”

“That’s it—I’m making some noise.” Rosalie took a deep breath as if to scream. David’s hand shot out and grabbed her. The apartment dissolved into nothingness.

Chapter Five

“Aaaaa—” Rosalie cut off in mid-yell. Her head whipped back and forth in stunned amazement. “W-Where the hell am I? What did you do?” Her heart thumped wildly as she gulped in a deep lungful of air.

“We’re on top of Penrose’s.” David leaned over and rubbed his shin. “Damn, that’s gonna leave a bruise. You didn’t have to kick me, you know—”

“Penrose’s? Penrose’s?” She gawked at the flat asphalt surface under her feet. Impossible, but they were suddenly four stories above the parking lot down below. “How did we get here?” she demanded, fear tingeing her voice. “I don’t remember anything—” Fear turned to rage as the only logical explanation hit her. “You slipped Fsal> ce.me a roofie.”

“Of all the… I would never…” he protested with an indignant sputter. “I’m sorry I scared you. If you listen for a moment, I’ll explain everything.”

“Forget it. You have nothing I need to hear.” Rosalie backed up with a glare not realizing she was dangerously close to the edge of the building.

“Rosalie, wait!” David leaped forward to stop her. Startled by his sudden movement, she stumbled, hit the low curb around the roofline, and lost her balance. Flailing wildly, Rosalie screamed as she toppled over the side.

David snagged her hand. “I have you!” He held on with a grimace, bracing his feet against the low wall. Her fingers inched out of his grasp.

“Help me,” she choked out, panic-stricken. “I can’t hold on.”

David strained with the effort to pull her up. . “I…won’t…let…you…fall.”

Her fingers slipped. Rosalie stared in horror at the concrete below. She screamed and suddenly the world went black again.

“Oof!” She landed with a crash in the middle of her apartment with David on top of her. Rosalie squirmed out from underneath, in the process booting him in the head.

“Ow, ow, ow! What is it with you? Stop kicking me.”

“What is it with
me
?” she echoed in disbelief.

Rosalie crab-walked backwards and hunkered against the wall. He was irritated! At her! He popped in and out of everyplace like nobody’s business. He dragged her up to rooftops. Rosalie’s terror evaporated. Her cheeks grew hot. She was really, really pissed. “Are you serious?” she squawked. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Instead of becoming angry or defensive at the outburst, to her befuddlement David leaned back on his hands and stared blankly at the ceiling. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. I’m beat and I’m starving and I’m about at the end of my rope.” His shoulders sagged, the picture of dejection. He reached into his pocket and slid Rosalie’s cell over to her. “Call the cops. I don’t give a damn, anymore. They’re the least of my problems. Anyway, I’ll dash-away before they get here.”

He staggered to his feet and brushed himself off. “Screw it. I’m gonna eat.” David picked up the bag from the Golden Palace sitting on the floor, and began unloading cartons on the table. “You’re welcome to join me. I brought plenty. Frankly, I could use the company.” He opened a kitchen cupboard and pulled out two plates. “I hope you don’t mind. I hate eating out of a carton.”

“So do I,” she blurted out without thinking.

As Rosalie watched him, her emotions faded from blood-in-her-eye fury to simmering outrage before finally settling in on cautious wariness with a creamy dollop of curiosity on top. She stared at the phone in her hand. Her thumb hovered over the touchpad. She could dial 9-1-1 in a flash. Her gaze returned to the strange young man. Whoever or whatever David was, he made no aggressive moves.

A delightful aroma from the Golden Palace carry-out bag reached her nose. She hadn’t eaten since early morning and now realized he wasn’t the only one starving in the room. As she tried discreetly to suck in the drool, her stomach betrayed her with an audible gurgle. Her cheeks heated.

David’s lips twitched in a half-smile. “How about you serve? I’ll eat whatever you dish out. That way you’ll know nothing is poisoned. Also, I prefer spring rolls to egg rolls, but if you rather have the spring rolls I won’t fight you for them.” He reached under Kreahalf-smile the table to where the pepper spray rolled. Rosalie’s heart thumped until he placed the aerosol can at the side of her plate. “Hang onto it if it makes you feel better.”

Rosalie’s eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the young man. What the hell was this guy? He didn’t froth at the mouth. Do psychopaths froth? She had no idea. He didn’t sprout antenna or spew acid, so probably not an alien. If an alien abducted her would he offer Chinese first? Again, no clue. Her stomach rumbled more loudly. Make up your mind already,
it seemed to say. Rosalie sidled cautiously across the room and slid into the seat. She placed her cell on the table, and then without a word ladled mounds of food onto each of their plates. She even gave him a spring roll.