Authors: Carolyn Jewel
She looked around his garage. “Where are we?”
“Home.”
She ran her hands over her head, smoothing her hair. He wondered what she looked like with it down. Hot, probably. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Probably not.” He shrugged and juggled the car keys on his palm. “I’d take you to your place if there wasn’t a homicidal mage waiting there for you.”
She stretched out her legs and leaned an elbow on the rim of the car door. “A hotel then.”
“Do you have enough cash on you not to use your credit card?”
“No, but—” She looked at him sideways. “You already did me my favor and look how that turned out.”
”You’ll be dead twenty minutes after your card swipe.” He shifted on the seat. “Look, you’re safer here than anywhere else. They’re going to find you no matter where you go. With me you have a shot at living to see another sunrise.”
She let out a breath. “I was wrong about you. You aren’t like Michael.”
Telos fisted his keys. “Pretty much the opposite, I’d say.”
“A demon.”
He shrugged. He did like the smart chicks. “If you want me to take you to a hotel or someplace else, I will, but then it’s your funeral. I’m offering to help you stay alive.” From what he’d heard, a lot of survivors like her were intensely self-sufficient. They had to be. They tended to have abandonment issues, too. “It’ll probably take him at least until tomorrow sometime to find us, and that’s if he’s got a good tracker. In the meantime, I’ll put in a call to Nikodemus and let him know what’s up.”
His car felt uncomfortably enclosed right now because he was aware she was all legs. She drew in a breath, but didn’t look at him. Good thing. She had a more than decent rack, too. She shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything, Khunbish.”
“Saying that doesn’t change the truth. I owe you. That’s just a fact.” This time she did meet his gaze. Her pupils were huge. More than anything, he wanted to reach over and unbutton the top button of her shirt. “Look, you’ll be safer with me. We can drink beer, order Thai, and watch wrestling all night.”
She smiled. Almost like old times. Except not. “Wrestling?”
“Or a monster truck rally. I have three DVR’d.” He schooled himself against smiling. “You pick.”
She sighed again, but there was a smile somewhere in there. “All right, Mr. Khunbish. Let’s go inside.”
They got out of the car and went in. He was careful with his proofing, the magical wards he set to keep the bad guys out. He made sure to adjust things so Fensic wouldn’t set them off.
He couldn’t help relaxing a little. This was his turf. He had the place well-warded. Anyone who tried to get in had some nasty surprises in store.
In his living room, she dropped her purse on the floor and slumped on his couch, legs sprawled out. She wasn’t wearing pantyhose. The ice queen was in his house, and he was thinking dirty thoughts about her.
He watched her look around and take in her surroundings and what he’d done with his place. This was a big house. Big enough to put him in the one-percent category. Three stories, vaulted ceilings in this room, six bedrooms, two of which he’d converted into a climate-controlled server room—not that she knew that yet.
“What paid for this?” She lifted a hand. “Don’t tell me if it means admitting you committed any crimes.”
He stood in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest. At the moment, psychically speaking, he got nothing from her. Nothing. She was so tightly closed off she could pass for vanilla. “You know what I charge per hour.”
She lifted a hand to shade her eyes. He relaxed when he saw her familiar icy smile. “Honey, you are worth every penny. But even your hourly rate couldn’t pay for this.”
“I have no worries, let’s just say that.”
She stretched her arms over her head, arching her back. Her clothes were rumpled, but she still looked corporate uptight. The look worked for him. “Does your mortgage payment bite your ass every month?”
“Paid off.”
She gave him another long look. “I didn’t realize hacking paid so well. Maybe that should be my second career.”
“There’s big money in spam. All you need is an open relay on a misconfigured mail server and you can send out millions of pitches to enlarge your dick.”
“You’re a spammer?”
He laughed. “No. If you’re good, protecting corporate America from hackers pays well.”
“And you’re good.”
“You know it.”
She sat up enough to pull the clip that held her bun and shake her head. He got distracted by the way her skirt rode up. Again. She finger-combed the honey-blonde mass; there was a lot more than he would have guessed, and having it down completely changed her looks. Totally fuckable. It hurt his dick to look at her she was so hot. She quirked her eyebrows at him while she got her hair slicked back. Did she know how she looked with her hair down like that?
Fensic returned her hair to its clip and flopped back on the couch. Her skirt hitched up to mid-thigh, and even though she knew he was looking, again, she didn’t move. His couch was a charcoal micro-suede, and she practically glowed against the dark fabric. Without straightening, she fished a pair of sunglasses out of her purse and put them on. “Do you have any aspirin?”
“Sorry, no.” He shook his head. “Headache?”
“The light hurts my eyes.” Now she looked like a movie star, all frosty-cold beauty. “Never mind. It’ll settle down in a bit.”
Telos walked over to the wall switch and flipped the main lights off. Like she was a date, and he was looking to get romantic with her. He closed the blinds, too, and did one more mental pass through his wards. Everything locked tight.
“Thanks.”
Back at the couch, he took his time studying her. She was in a partial sprawl, eyes covered by an arm thrown over her face. The first two buttons of her white blouse were unfastened, and he could see the very top curve of her breasts. Nice. She had pearls in her ears and ash-gray pumps that were not practical for anything but looking hot. She had toned calves, high arches and ankles that looked like they should have broken while she was running from her murdering ex and his magehelds.
She pressed her fingers to her temples and rubbed. Her nails were just long enough to be classy. They were painted icy pink, and that was all the color on her hands. No jewelry. “I guess you figured out I’m not a normal person.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re okay with that?”
He shrugged one shoulder.
“You’re not exactly normal yourself, are you?” she said.
Telos had to laugh at that. “Hell no.”
Her fingers kept massaging her head, moving out from her temples. She hesitated and looked up at him. He couldn’t see her eyes through her dark glasses “Usually it’s not good when people touch me. But when you do?”
“What about Michael? What happened when he touched you?”
She flushed. She’d misunderstood his question, but what the hell. The answer would be interesting. “We made sure I had time to prepare. Mentally.”
“Meaning?”
“To get myself shut down.”
He shook his head. “Hell on the spontaneity, isn’t it?”
She lifted her sunglasses above her eyes and blinked a few times. He wondered about her ability to shut down her magic. That kind of control was usually the result of training. A lot of it. She smoothed a hand along the seat of the couch, leaving a wavy pattern in the micro-suede. “Has to be that way for me.” Her hand stilled, and she looked at him dead on. “You can block me. How?”
“I’m not human.” Telos moved closer to the couch. “What happens if I don’t block you?”
She huffed. “You’ll think I’m crazy. Correction: you’ll
know
I’m crazy.”
“I already know that. You were wide open to me a couple of times.”
“Never for very long.”
“Oh, Counselor.” He couldn’t stop his grin. No more flirting. He was into the direct come-on. “I can do it long enough to make us both really happy.”
She rolled her eyes at him.
“Your friend today. Is that what happens when you’re not locked down?” He didn’t have to have a hook into her head to know she was trying to decide whether to lie.
“I see people’s futures.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Or else somehow what I see, I make happen. I’m not sure which it is.”
“I’ve touched you. Lots of times. I never had a clue what you can do. Whatever the hell it is.”
She rubbed her temples again. “All those times, I was prepared.”
“But not today.” He stayed where he was, a few feet away from the couch. Close, but not too close. Not close enough.
“No. Not today.” She didn’t sound happy about that. “I didn’t have good control today. He touched me, and I saw it happen.” She looked away, then back, and there wasn’t a single break. “And now he’s dead.”
He didn’t argue with her. The poor bastard had been dead long before the paramedics got him strapped onto the gurney. She knew it, too.
“I don’t know if I’m seeing the future or if what I see actually changes someone’s life.” She laughed, but there wasn’t any emotion in it. Her expression stayed somber. “I mean, that really would be crazy, changing people’s lives with the power of my mind.”
“Maybe not.”
“Nobody can change the future just because of what pops into their heads.” She bit her lower lip and chewed on it for a while. Telos entertained dirty thoughts involving her mouth and his dick. “Most days I’m sane by an inch. Today, not so much.”
“You’re not crazy. You just don’t know shit about what you are.”
Fensic tossed the glasses back in her purse. “One time I kept a log of what I was getting from people. Of the twenty events whose outcomes I was able to confirm, I was right nineteen times.”
“You never tried to warn them?”
“Sure I did.” She wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on a horizon he’d never see himself. “Intervening only makes things worse. For everyone. Especially me. I was lucky none of my foster parents had me committed.” Her attention flicked back to the now, and she gave a tight smile. “I learned how to block people out. Most of the time. I’d be in an institution otherwise. Or a crazy lady walking the street, talking to myself while I push a shopping cart full of my worldly possessions.” She pointed a finger at her ear and made a twirling motion; the universal sign for loony. “Been this way since I was fourteen.”
“That’s about when it starts for survivors like you.”
“Like me? There isn’t anyone like me.” She spoke with a bleak deliberation that tugged at him. “According to Michael, I’m a stone-cold killer.” Her voice got stronger. “I’m not like him. I have never, ever harmed anyone on purpose. Because I know exactly what I am.”
“Fensic.” He rapped out her name. That got her attention. “What the hell are you saying? Think about it.” He was angry on her behalf. Bone deep. “Those magehelds of his, they’re enslaved demons. You tell me, in what world is slavery right? He fucking tried to take me. You ever do that to someone?”
Her eyes went wide, but he was on a roll and kept going.
“You saw the blood when he came out of the house. He’d just murdered one of my kind. He ripped the beating heart from a demon’s chest so he could have more power. Live a little longer. You ever killed a demon?”
“No. To my knowledge anyway.”
“You know what people like him say? ‘The only good demon is a dead demon.’ You’ve probably heard him say it. More than once. It’s their goddamned motto. So whenever it was that Michael called you a killer— Do not try to tell me he didn’t. I can fucking feel it.” He rapped the side of his head. “Here. When he said that, he was lying.”
She rubbed her temples some more, and in the silence his anger receded. “I don’t want to talk about this. There’s no point. All I want is for my head to not explode.”
He didn’t want her to suffer, but he hesitated before he said, “I can help with the pain. If you’re interested.”
Hands still at her temples, she looked up. “Like before?”
“A little different, but yeah. Like that.”
“I would love that.”
He held out a hand. “I need to touch you.” He was thinking about how she felt when she let go of that iron control. He was seeing himself doing her when she was psychically open to him. In his imagination she wasn’t uptight or fastidious. She was hot and naked and totally wild for him. And all that magic was his. “Tell me if you have any problems. Okay?”
She leaned forward, squinting a little as she stretched to put her hand in his. Her skin was pale compared to his, her fingers warmer than he expected from a human woman. When she was upright, he took a step closer and released her hand. He pressed a fingertip to her forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed. She had some serious defenses. It was like trying to get through an iron wall.
“Relax.”
She pried open one eye. “This is relaxed.”
“Relax more.”
She did, and he made his connection. Like before, he kept himself blocked from her. She couldn’t get to him, but he was open to her psychic state. No need to be subtle now about what he was doing. Her eyes flew open, wide, stark, and her pain lanced through him like it was being delivered by a semi.
Telos siphoned off the reaction as best he could, but her head was a river of pain. Aspirin wouldn’t have done a goddamned thing for her. He ended up straddling her, one hand on the back of the couch, the palm of his other hand resting on her forehead while he bled out the agony.
Compared to a trained mage, her magic was stunted, but right now he was in direct contact, and he was bowled over by the way her power folded over and under and around itself. Stunted, but concentrated. He had a predictable reaction to that. Getting this close to her magic? Almost better than sex. Eventually, he released the link between them. “Better?”
She released a slow breath, looking at him through half-closed eyes. “Yes.” She touched his cheek. He didn’t look away. Neither did she. His body had a stimulating reaction to that. “Thank you.”
He was aware of how close they were physically; only inches apart. That she was human and that his species was made to get in close like this. He took in the curve of her chest and the buttons down her blouse. She smelled like something flowery. This was probably a mistake, but then again, he had a hard time believing getting laid by a beautiful woman was ever wrong, so he stayed where he was, his thighs on either side of hers, his hands on the back of the couch.