Missing Magic (14 page)

“I know.” He sighed. “I wish I could help
you.”

“But you’re involved. You can. Talk to me.
Let me meet with you somewhere, anywhere. Your choice.”

Silence.

“Mick, please. Talk to me.”

But instead of answering, she heard a click
as he hung up the phone. She checked the number. The Caller I.D.
read
Unavailable
. Of course. Mick knew better than to call
from a traceable number.

Still, she wanted to throw the phone against
the wall.

“Who was that?” Bleary-eyed, Cenrick stood
framed in her door. Wearing only a pair of silky, red boxers, he
looked sleepy and gorgeous and sexy as hell. His long, dark hair
was tousled every which way, standing up in unruly tufts.

With her adrenaline already pumping, she
pushed away the sharp stab of desire and inhaled sharply, telling
herself not to lose focus.

When she didn’t immediately answer, he came
closer. “Dee? The phone. Who called?”

“Mick,” she said firmly, suddenly conscious
of her aching breasts and the way her nipples poked at her cotton
pajama top.

Instantly alert, Cenrick took the last couple
of steps, stopping at the side of her bed. Peering down at her, he
ran a hand through his hair. “Mick? Where is he?”

“I don’t know. Caller I.D. wasn’t helpful. He
said he was calling to warn me.” She repeated the rest of Mick’s
words.

Again, Cenrick dragged his hand through his
hair, making an even worse mess of it. Tempted to help him out, she
knew running her own fingers through it would be a terrible
mistake. At this moment, merely touching him would destroy what was
left of her tattered self-control.

She couldn’t give in to temptation.

So what if she did? She was tired of fighting
her attraction to him. Right now, Cenrick’s masculine beauty was
the only good thing left in her life.

And if there was anything she’d learned
growing up the way she had, if something good came along, she’d
better enjoy it. Happiness was fleeting.

He shifted, looking down at her. She knew the
exact moment when his focus changed from discussing the phone call
to registering the fact that she was nearly-naked, with hunger
burning in her eyes.

“Dee?” He touched her arm, making her jump.
“Are you all right?”

The huskiness in his voice had her peering up
at him through her lashes. What she saw in his face made her heart
skip and her breath catch in her throat.

Desire
. As raw and hot and urgent as
her own.

Her heart turned over in her chest. She
concentrated on keeping her breathing steady and regular. Did she
really want to do this?

The answer was a resounding
yes
.

Cenrick sat down on the edge of her bed,
causing the mattress to dip and her mouth to go dry. How simple it
would be to roll towards him, until she could wrap herself around
his muscular body. Once they touched, the hear would combust, she
knew, and they’d make wild, passionate love.

Even thinking about that had her biting back
a groan.

Still, she held back, unwilling to make the
first move. Even though she knew doing so wouldn’t absolve her of
guilt, if anything happened between them, she wanted him to
initiate it.

“I wonder why he called now, in the middle of
the night,” Cenrick mused.

“He had to be calling me on the sly,” she
said, rehashing their conversation, feeling rather desperate. “You
should have heard him, whispering. If he wasn’t in danger, why
whisper?”

“True. So he didn’t want his cohort, Natasha,
to hear him.”

“Exactly.” He stared off into the distance,
thinking. He was a thousand miles away from her.

He wasn’t going to touch her. Her heart sank
and her throat ached. Either his self-restraint was greater than
hers, or he just flat didn’t want her.

She remembered the feeling from a childhood
spent waiting to be adopted.

Fine. She could deal with this. But, if she
didn’t move, and quickly, she’d make a complete and utter fool of
herself.

Edging out of her bed, careful not to touch
him, she headed for her closet. She could have sworn she felt his
gaze, burning.

Doing her best to pretend he wasn’t there,
she pulled a pair of jeans up over her short pajama bottoms and
grabbed a t-shirt with a built-in bra. Keeping her back to him, she
got dressed, finally stepping into flip-flops.

Thus armored, she turned and faced him,
hoping her expression looked as remote as she was trying to make
it.

He watched her, his expression perplexed.
“What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed so I can go,” she said in a
lofty voice.

“Go where?”

Crossing to the dresser, she didn’t look at
him as she dragged a brush through her hair. “Mick’s house.” On her
way to the bathroom to brush her teeth, she looked at him over her
shoulder, eying his boxers with a disdainful, raised brow. “And if
you want to go, you’d better get dressed quickly.” And she closed
the bathroom door behind her.

As exit lines went, it wasn’t half bad. He’d
never know the way her emotions and need tumbled inside her.

Leaning on the counter over the sink, she let
her rigid posture sag. She craved the man with a strength and
urgency she’d never before felt, not even with Peter. Worse, she
knew the combination was impossible. Cenrick was a Fae prince,
while she was… nothing. She had no job, no family, no friends. Even
Mick, the man she’d called brother, had deserted her.

“No pity parties,” she told herself firmly,
rolling her shoulders.

Brushing her teeth, washing her face, rolling
on deodorant, all the normal motions of an ordinary morning should
have helped her regain her equilibrium. But it was two o’clock in
the morning, and her body knew she ought to be in bed.

With Cenrick. She sagged against the counter.
Back to that again. What on earth was wrong with her? She covered
her face with her hands. She was an emotional wreck. Not only had
she been put on suspension at work, but she’d lost her best friend
and less than a week had passed since Peter had broken up with her.
She’d believed she loved him, though she now had her doubts. By
dumping her, Peter had saved them both from making a monumental
mistake.

Her thoughts returned to the man waiting for
her in the other room. She couldn’t help but wonder who would save
her this time?

Reaching for a towel, she blotted her face
dry and sighed. Sometimes she couldn’t win for losing.

He was dressed and waiting when she
emerged.

“Let’s go.” She strode past him, proud of
herself for appearing so aloof as she scooped up her car keys.

He followed her, waiting silently while she
locked the door. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought
he was brooding.

Outside, the night air was cool. The stars
sparkled brightly in the cloudless sky.

She drove fast, with a precision she’d
learned in the police academy. Beside her on the front seat,
Cenrick stared out the window as the night landscape flashed past,
and didn’t speak.

Which suited her fine. She wasn’t in the mood
for talking either.

As they exited the freeway, she heard the
sound of sirens in the distance. As she neared the subdivision, the
sirens grew louder. A fire truck roared up behind them, lights
flashing. As Dee pulled over to let it pass, several more
followed.

“Two or three alarms,” she mused. “Not
good.”

“What?”

“That means they’re calling more than one
city for assistance. Look. Smoke, that way.” She pointed, an awful
certainty making her chest tight. “That’s right where we’re going.
Mick’s house.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Cenrick
said.

“That makes two of us.”

“You don’t think…?”

She smiled grimly. “Unfortunately, I do.”

Even more fire engines, an ambulance, and two
police cruisers, all with lights and sirens blaring, passed
them.

Dee checked her mirrors and pulled back on to
the street

The scent of smoke grew worse as they pulled
into the gates marking the beginning of Mick’s subdivision. Ahead,
a glow lit up the sky, similar to the one caused by Natasha’s
machine.

As they attempted to turn onto Mick’s street,
they found it crammed with fire trucks, emergency vehicles, and
police cars, making it impassable. A roadblock had been set up, and
worried neighbors clustered at each end of the street.

Four houses down, an enormous blaze raged.
The flames engulfed not only Mick’s, but the houses on both sides
of him.

“Damn it.” Dee opened her door. “I don’t
believe this.” She started to get out, but Cenrick grabbed her
arm.

“Wait.” he said. “Going out there might not
be safe for you.”

“Why, because Mick just called and warned me
away?” She shook her head. “You know why he did that. The phone
call was probably a last ditch effort to get me to stay away.”

“You don’t find this odd? Mick calls you and
less than an hour later, his house catches fire?”

She stared at him. He stared back.

“You know I’ve got to go. I can’t sit here
and do nothing while they burn his house to the ground.”

She got out of the car. He did the same, a
look of resignation on his handsome face.

Though she knew the firefighters would keep
her from getting to close, she approached anyway, Cenrick at her
side.

Fire trucks were everywhere, completely
blocking the street, a cacophony of engines and sirens, hoses
spraying and blaze roaring. Blue, red, and white lights flashed
from the trucks, a startling contrast to the leaping orange flames.
Black smoke billowed, turning to gray as the multiple hoses
continually blasted water.

Despite this onslaught, the inferno blazed
on, flames arching high and wide, unstoppable. Showers of sparks
threatened to ignite more trees, other roofs, additional houses, if
the steady flow of water wasn’t able to curb the conflagration.

The closer Dee got, the more intense the
heat.

“Get back,” someone shouted. A group of
suited firefighters moved back in a wave. A shower of sparks
exploded as the roof collapsed.

“Was anyone in there?” Dee asked, grabbing at
the first person she could. “Did everyone get out safely?”

“We don’t know.” Grim-faced, the soot-stained
firefighter shook off her hand. “By the time someone sounded the
alarm and we could get here, the structure was already too
unstable, the fire too intense. We tried to send someone in, but he
couldn’t make it.”

One of the harried cops caught sight of her
and hurried over. “Dee, what the hell are you doing here?”

Chad Warwick, one of her former pals from
work.

“I wanted to check on Mick.”

Frowning, he shook his head. “Sometimes I
wonder about you. Did you ever stop to think how this will
look?”

Confused, she stared at him. “How what will
look?”

“You’re under investigation. Mick goes
missing, an incriminating note is found, and then you show up at
his house to watch while it burns to the ground. Don’t you think
they’re going to wonder if you torched the place?”

“You know me better than that.” But her heart
was pounding. “And I didn’t know his house was on fire until I got
here. Mick called me.”

Now it was his turn to stare. “No way.”

“Yes. He’s not missing. He called me tonight,
just a half hour ago.”

“From here? Not possible.”

“I don’t know where he was. Caller ID didn’t
say. He blocked the call.”

Chad crossed his arms, regarding her
steadily. She could tell he didn’t believe her.

“Start another hose,” someone yelled. Another
truck moved into place, more firefighters jumping off. While they
worked feverishly to unravel the hose, another man pushed through
and headed towards Dee. Even at this distance, she recognized him.
Ted Harstan, the Fire Chief.

As he approached, she could tell he wasn’t
happy to see her.

“Chief Harstan.” Dee dipped her head, smiling
pleasantly. “How are you?”

“Dee Bishop.” No answering smile softened the
craggy planes of his face. “You need to move along now. You don’t
belong here. But then, it’s a known fact arsonists can’t resist
returning to the scene of their crime.”

“Arsonists?” Reeling from his words, Dee was
glad of Cenrick’s steadying arm. “What are you saying?”

He ignored her question, continuing in a hard
voice. “I’m warning you right now. We will have investigators
looking into the cause of this fire. If arson is determined, and I
think it will be, you’d better hope you have an alibi.”

An alibi? “Are you formally accusing me of
setting this fire?” She couldn’t believe this. Yet his rigid
posture and scowling face told her he meant exactly what she’d
thought.

“Not formally.” His accusatory glare cut her
to the bone. “But you’re my main suspect.” With that, he stalked
back to his men.

With a sad shake of his head, Chad Warwick
watched him go. “I told you. You shouldn’t be here.”

“What the hell?” Dee exploded. “Why does
everyone in this town find it so easy to believe I’m a
criminal?”

Chad looked back over his shoulder. “Motive,
Dee,” he said. “Motive.” He walked away, leaving Dee standing
staring after him, her stomach tied in knots and burning.

“Maybe we should go.” Cenrick tried to turn
her away, back towards her car. As he did, flashbulbs exploded.
Reporters! Three cameramen, each from a different network, came at
her, shouting questions while filming her with the raging inferno
as a backdrop.

“What do you have to say to the allegations
about your connection to Mick Morsi’s disappearance?” A stocky
woman from Channel Four News called out.

Stunned, Dee could only shake her head. Not
waiting for her answer, the other reporters yelled out their
questions, each vying loudly to be the one she answered.