Chapter Thirty-Four
One year later
Beulah, North Dakota
“May I help you?” the brunette asked when Nix, Gage, and Zo stepped into the small, eccentric establishment, decorated in bright, outlandish colors. Nix smiled, noted her figure—huge breasts, cute face—glanced at Gage and Zo and mouthed, “Oh, my God.”
Gage rolled his eyes, while Zo shook her head and whispered, “Man whore.”
“Yeah,” Nix said to the receptionist. “We would like to see….” He glanced at the card in his hand and verified the name. “Nastashia.”
He winked as he snagged a business card off the receptionist’s desk.
Nastashia Knows Best, psychic medium dedicated to helping you look to the future
. Nix resisted the urge to puke. He rolled his eyes. Psychics were a dime a dozen, and he’d only met one real deal. Georgie. Well…Amos, too, but he wasn’t a practicing psychic like Georgie.
“She’s with a client. Would you like to wait?” the receptionist asked.
“Yes, please.” Gage motioned for Zo to take a seat on the sofa.
Nix leaned against the desk, flashing his best smile at the girl. “You free tonight, beautiful?”
Caramel brown eyes peeked up at him through fake eyelashes. Her bashful smile failed to fool him. She’d be a wildcat in bed. She twisted a lock of hair around a finger. “I’m free for you.”
“Nix.” Gage came up behind him. “We’re here for a job.”
“Doesn’t mean a guy can’t have some fun along the way.”
“Along the way? Dude…Galveston, Charleston, Manitobe, Henderson, Pittsburgh, Fresno. They all provided ‘fun along the way.’”
“Don’t forget Nashville, Reno, and Claremont,” Zo chimed in, flipping through the pages of a magazine much too fast to be reading the articles.
“Good times, good times.” Undeterred, he turned back to the girl. “So, you want to get a drink after work?” Gage suggested often he should stay focused while on a hunt or he’d eventually get caught with his pants down. Zo seemed amused by his exploits and teased him about being a man-whore. She never told him to alter his behavior. Maybe she understood Nix just wanted to live life to the fullest before he took his last breath. No regrets: that was the motto he tried to live by. He heard Gage sigh in frustration. What a prude he could be! Nix couldn’t explain how they came from the same genetic pool. Gage would be looking to get laid, too, if not for Zo’s presence.
“I get off at five,” she said and wrote down her name—Honey—and number and slid it across the desk.
He slipped the paper into his pocket and winked at her. “I’ll call you. Will six give you—”
Nix stood up at the sound of the southern drawl that reminded him of Mads. “Have a nice evening, Ms. Wilcox, and be safe.”
His heart hammered in his chest, as he stared at the conversing women down the hall. An elderly lady faced them and a tall, curvy woman had her back to him. The tall chick had Mads’s blonde hair and accent. There were a million leggy blondes with southern accents. Just because thoughts of Mads plagued him, didn’t mean this woman would be her. She held the elderly lady’s veiny, wrinkled hand and patted it reassuringly. “Everything will work out. You’ll see,” the blonde said. “I promise. Remember, Nastashia Knows Best.” Nix could hear the smile in her voice.
“Mads?” Nix whispered. Two long years since she drove away from him. Two years of thinking about her every day and trying to forget her as he fucked other women. Sad, yet true. “Mads?” he said, louder.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. Her vibrant, blue eyes widened, sparkled in recognition. “Nix!” Mads’s mouth parted, every bit as surprised to see him.
He grinned and strode toward her, fighting the urge to run. She walked away from the lady, and met him in the middle of the room. She looked fucking good dressed in her jeans and blue, button-down blouse.
She flung herself against him, knocking the air from his lungs, and almost toppling him to the floor. He stumbled from the impact, refusing to release her. If he went down, she would go down with him. Somehow, he managed to catch his balance. Her scent clung to him, and he breathed in deep, filling his lungs with her energy until it exploded on his tongue.
“You look fantastic. Gorgeous, Mads.” He ran his hand over her hair, touched her neck and shoulders. She was thinner. Not that she’d ever been plump. There were subtle changes in her face, leaner, older, and her bold gaze hinted she’d grown wiser. Her hair fell in long waves past the middle of her back. Those small differences, coupled with the air of maturity clinging to her, made for radical changes. And no one knew better than he how Sherlocking took the innocence out of you.
“So, do you,” she whispered, clasping his face between her hands.
Their rare phone conversations weren’t enough, but Georgie often reminded him Mads followed the path she must take for a destiny she couldn’t deny.
Clearing her throat, she abruptly extracted herself from his embrace and threw a demure glance at the others. Nix could care less who witnessed their excitement. He noted, however, the silence of the room. As suspected, a peek about proved every eye trained on them.
Honey frowned, clearly not liking his familiarity with her boss. The client smiled. The way all old women smiled when in the presence of a young couple, as if remembering their misspent youth. Gage and Zo…ah, hell, he didn’t peek in their direction.
Mads smoothed a hand over her hair, tamping down where his fingers had tangled in the silky locks. “Honey, will you show Mrs. Wilcox out? And you’re free to leave as well.”
As Honey gathered her things to walk the elderly lady out, Nix realized a strange man stood at the end of the hallway from which Mads had emerged. He leaned against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest, watching, unblinking. He surveyed them like a predator. Nix sensed he saw beneath the protective layers each person erected. He shivered, thinking this man knew how deeply he felt for Mads.
“Where are James and Georgie?” The sound of Mads’s voice drew his attention from the stranger, and he gazed at her, eating her up with his eyes as she hugged Gage and Zoe. “What are you guys doing here?”
He could ask the same thing of her. What was she doing in North Dakota, far out of her own southern territory?
“James is hunting with Georgie somewhere in Canada,” Zoe said.
Nix cast another glance at the stranger. The man extracted himself from the wall and approached them, hands laced behind his back in a non-threatening demeanor.
“We were sent to hunt down a psychic chick by the name of Nastashia.” Nix rolled his eyes at the ridiculous name. “Georgie thinks she’s a fake. Wanted us to check into it.”
Wedging her thumbs in her jeans, Mads’s eyes sparkled with devilment. “You found her. The fake psychic chick.”
Nix went through about five different faces and ten different thoughts before coming up with, “You?” He flicked the business card with a finger. “You’re ‘Nastashia Knows Best’?”
“At your service, Mr. Birmingham.” She grinned and executed a ridiculous curtsey. God, he’d missed her humor. “You want me to tell you your future?”
Nix couldn’t assimilate the pieces in his brain. Madison Wescott and psychic Nastashia were the same person? Tales of her accuracy were renowned as far as Canada, or so Georgie said. Thinking about it seemed odd now since Aunt Georgie also called her a fraud.
“No, offense,” Gage said, sending the stranger a cautious glance. “But why are you stealing people’s money, when you have all you need?”
“Speaking of money, Mads,” Nix faced her, frowning, “I have a bone to pick with you about a ridiculous amount of money that showed up in an account in my name.”
Amos burst into the room, screaming Nix’s name. This time he expected the attack. Amos bolted past the stranger and leapt into his arms. Grunting dramatically, he staggered around, pretending to trip—twice—to Amos’s giggles of delight. He bitched about how much Amos had grown, and how much his back would ache from being tackled football-style by a seven-year-old linebacker. In two years, the boy had grown. At seven, his gangly, long-legged frame hinted at the height he’d one day achieve.
All the while, Mads watched him.
“You’ve got it wrong, Gage.” Mads flipped the open sign to closed, locked the door, and sent a cautionary peek down the street. “I don’t seek recompense, but some insist on paying me. When they do, I give the proceeds to a local charity.” The stranger halted beside Mads, loosely draped an arm around her shoulders, and watched Nix with keen interest. An intentional goad, maybe? Nix ground his teeth at the open display of affection and glared at the man as Mads spoke. “Nix, it’s your money. Deal with it.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do with that obscene dollar figure?”
She shrugged.
“What brings you here, Madison?” Zo asked, winking at Amos.
“Who’s your friend?” Nix nodded at the male touching Mads. Much too friendly for his peace of mind.
Mads answered Zo first. “Amos and I followed a lead here. A Mimicker has been ripping people apart.” She sent a fast glance at the stranger, who elevated a dark eyebrow at her. “The Mimicker left a bloody trail from Texas, straight up through Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, and South Dakota, ending up here.”
“Georgie said nothing about supernatural problems.” Zo looked at them, worry creasing the corners of her eyes.
“Don’t recall anything in the papers either.” Gage frowned.
Mads shrugged at their comments. “Nix, meet Zen. Zen, this is Nix’s cousin, Gage, and Gage’s girlfriend, Zoe. All three are Sherlocks.”
“Like the ones—”
“Yes,” Mads cut Zen off quickly, making it obvious there was something she didn’t wish them to know.
“Zen?” Nix settled Amos on the floor and extended his hand. “What an odd name.”
“My crystal genie,” Mads said, winking at Zen, an odd grin touching the edges of her mouth.
Nix despised their familiarity.
Zen sent an odd glance at Nix’s proffered hand. “It’s not a name.” He tweaked Mads’s hair. “I’ve got some things to handle. You’ll be okay?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Be careful.”
Zen gave her a twisted grin and kissed her forehead. “Of course.”
“He’s…odd.” Zo surprised Nix with her statement as Zen disappeared through the back doors.
“He lacks social skills,” Nix said bluntly, staring at Mads.
“He’s complicated, Nix. And not to be messed with. So, if you can’t figure out how to get along with him, give him a wide berth.”
Well, that sounded like a challenge. “You know that’s not my way, darlin’.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.” She poked him in the ribs.
“How does this ruse help, Madison?” Gage gestured to their surroundings, casting a peculiar glance after Zen.
“You’d be surprised how people trust you when they think you can tell them their future. Amos helps, too. He’s actually doing all the psychic mojo, since you guys know I’m a charlatan.” She flashed them a teasing smile. “All things paranormal respond to him. We bumped into the Mimicker once, and I almost killed it. People died because I failed. I won’t let it happen again.”
Nix understood the sentiment. “How does Zenny fit into the picture?”
“Don’t call him that, Nix!” She crossed her arms and stared at him. “I told you about him when we dug him out.”
“A year ago! I didn’t expect him to still be with you.”
“We’re not a couple, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
Knowing this, Nix could breathe a little easier over their too-comfy relationship.
“Look, Zen is one bad scary mofo.”
“Why is he still with you, if he scares you?” Zo asked. Nix wanted the answer as well.
“He doesn’t scare me. It’s just his powers; they’re nothing like I’ve ever seen. He can take a demon down with no more than a piercing stare. And he’s quick. Quick enough the eye can’t always see him move. He’s got mad fighting skills. No offense, Nix, but he’d kick your ass three ways to Sunday before you got off a punch. Besides, if he wanted any of us dead, we’d all be corpses before we knew he hit us.”
“Why isn’t he dead, if he’s this scary powerful?” Gage asked.
“I don’t think I could kill him if I wanted to. But….” She held up her finger to halt any further comments. “He’s not evil. He’s not from your God—”
“Our God?” Nix said. What an odd way to put it. “He’s yours, too.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not one of His children. I don’t fight because I choose Him. I fight because I choose good. I refuse to follow the evil path a demon King chose for me.”
“Daddy’s a fallen angel, Momma,” Amos corrected.
“Whatever. We still choose our own path.”
“I chose Momma.” A proud smile tilted Amos’s boyish features.
She smiled and pulled him to her side for a brief hug. “I was about to cook dinner. Y’all want to eat with us?”
“God, yes!” Nix loved this chick for her cooking skills alone. His grumbling belly agreed. “Gage’s cooking tastes like rubber, I burn flesh if I try to cook, and Zo—”
“Zoe thinks you better watch what you say, or I’ll never cook for you again,” she warned, wagging her finger at him.
Nix threw his hands up in surrender and flashed a grin. “Zo is a goddess in the kitchen.”
Mads laughed.
“What about Honey?” Gage asked.
“Honey who?” Nix shot him a warning glare.
“Nix, I hear about your many indiscretions from Georgie.” Mads led them down a narrow hall into a cheerfully decorated kitchen. “And we both know I interrupted something in South Beach.”
He wanted to think about something other than the South Beach incident. “You talk to Georgie?” He followed her into the kitchen. On the few occasions he’d spoken with her, she always refused to provide him with more than their general whereabouts. Was she giving Georgie her specific locations all this time?
“Every week.”
“And you talk about me…uh…and my indiscretions?”
Zo snorted back humor. Nix glared at Zoe, certain he would die of mortification. He would kill Georgie the next chance he got.
“I ask about your welfare, whenever you and I haven’t chatted recently.”
“You do?” He grinned. Nice knowing she cared.