The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance)) (12 page)

If eyes were truly the window to a soul, his was a deep, fathomless mystery. One that she was more than willing to explore.

I’ll probably never see him again
.

Her hand shook at the realization that she cared. A drop of water splashed onto her shirt. It had been a long time since she’d cared about anyone.

Was that what the dream had meant? After Michael, all she’d ever felt was fear, and then he’d come along. Cian. She couldn’t explain it, but just by being near him she felt safe.

  Michael. What am I doing?

“Ugh! Pathetic. I hate him.”

She jumped, startled by her sister’s grumble. Tamryn came striding in. Her red lips a razor thin line of disgust.

“What?”

Her sister ran fingers through her unruly red curls. “Harry. That’s who. Son of a monkey’s whore. Can you believe it, Eve? I actually felt sorry for the bastard.”

Eve frowned, feeling totally lost. “Wait, wait. Back up. What happened last night, Tam?”

Tamryn’s violet eyes narrowed, she picked up a stoppered vial of wolfsbane and scraped at the black seal with a long red nail. “He kicked me out. Said I was too much trouble. Not worth the lay. Of course, he says this after I brewed him the healing potion. Self-righteous, officious...”

Eve tried her hardest not to laugh at her younger sister, but as her descriptions of Harry became more colorful she couldn’t contain the grin. A minute later her sister was still on a roll.

“...unholy mating of a bear and horses ass...”

That was it. Tears started rolling down her cheek. “Tamryn stop,” she choked out. “You’re gonna make me—“

Tamryn snorted, a proud gleam in her eyes. “You know, I feel better now. Glad to get that off my chest.”

Eve rolled her eyes, hugging her sore stomach. “Why does it shock you? You’ve always had a predilection for prettily wrapped empty packages.”

Tamryn threw up her hand and sighed emphatically. “Don’t I know it.” Then all got quiet. The back of Eve’s neck tingled as her sister’s eyes morphed from playful bantering to calculating calm. It was a narrowing of the eyes, a lowering of the lids.

She knew that look. She hated that look. Nosy Tamryn was on the prowl.

“So...”

Yup. She knew it.

“What, Tam?” she asked and turned her back to her sister, gazing through the glass at the normals and supers browsing through the store.

She could always tell a normal from a super. The supers headed straight to the real magick--the potent stuff that might seem benign and unassuming to the naked eye. Herbs, clay talisman’s, candles. While the normals headed straight, and without exception, to the more flashy items. Cauldrons, crystal balls, wands. But they’d just look at it, with awe shining in their eyes, or pick up a wand and wave it wildly about.

Foolish how they treated such powerful magick like toys. Ah, but that was normals for you. Still she wouldn’t complain. They made her wallet fat. Goddess bless them.

“You gonna tell me about that sexy man last night? You’ve only been broadcasting all day. Horny, sad. Horny, sad.”

Her lips twitched at the accurate description. “Tam, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Listen.” Tamryn laid a hand on Eve’s shoulder. “I know you’re afraid of what you’re feeling right now. But, it’s natural, all part of the healing process.”

Eve turned and studied her sister. She wore a serene expression, her eyes no longer lit with the light of fury but with compassion and understanding. Tamryn had always empathized with Eve better than Celeste could, which might explain why the two were bonded tighter than twins.

She snorted with self-derision. “I’ll probably never see him again, so all the what ifs in the world don’t matter.”

Tamryn gave a small, sad smile. “That’s true. But at least you’re feeling again, Eve. That’s something, right?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Get back with me in about two months and I’ll let you know then.”

Her sister laughed and gave her a quick hug. “As for me,” she said, slipping the wolfsbane vial into her jean pocket, “I got a little revenge on the mind.”

Eve shook her head. “You’re terrible.”

“Mwuah ha ha.” Tamryn threw her head back in perfect imitation of Bela Lugosi. “I know.”

The chime above the shop jingled as another customer entered. Eve glanced, then her heart slammed against her chest. Every nerve ending in her body sprang to life and her brain cells went blank.

“Well, speak of the devil.”

***

Cian stood just inside the store, eyes roving, looking for her. He’d been standing outside the shop all day, taking two steps forward and one step back. He shouldn’t be here.

All he’d thought about last night was that scent, her perfume of patchouli and vanilla. The intoxicating combination of woodsy spice and sweetness as uniquely her as the eyes shot through with liquid gold.

He’d seen her through the window last night staring at him. He’d tasted her fear and moved deeper into shadow. He hadn’t meant to scare her. Only watching to see that Frenzy had kept his word and that at the very least, he could ensure her a good night’s rest.

But it hadn’t worked. The rest of the night he’d sensed her pacing, her thoughts her own, and yet the feeling of intense confusion and doubt had settled on him, making him ache to go to her.

He’d stayed away. But the need to comfort her, reassure himself that she was all right, had finally made him enter this store. 

Cian clenched his fists glancing from one face to another, the gut twisting fear eating a hole in his sanity.

He couldn’t believe he’d done this. He’d sworn last night it wouldn’t happen. Couldn’t happen. But he’d broken his oath.

He’d come. Not to defend her, or even harvest her soul. If only it were so uncomplicated. No, he’d come to see her. Pure and simple.

Standing halfway in the door, doubt and panic crowded his mind. Death cowed by a mere slip of a woman. Laughable, if it wasn’t for the anxiety stealing the breath from his lungs.

He turned to leave. Maybe this was for the best.

“Cian. Right?”

He flinched and reluctantly turned, dropping his hand from the door. A redhead stood before him, a knowing gleam in her wide violet eyes.

“Did you come for anything specific?” She spread her arm, indicating the shelves of otherworldly goods.

His heart pounded in his ears, threatening to drown out the mystical harmony of chanting Gregorian monks playing softly through the shop.

Cian narrowed his eyes. The sister was playing naïve, which suited him fine, because right now he was drawing a blank trying to come up with even a petty excuse. It dawned on him then just how halfcocked this idea had been. He’d come completely unprepared.

“I, ah...” He licked his upper teeth.

“You know, Vamp, we’ve got some of the red stuff in the cooler’s back there if that’s what you’re looking for. It’s kind of a hush hush thing, FDA hasn’t approved it yet, but hell...” she shrugged, her brow arced in a wicked curve, “if you’re hungry, you’re hungry. And I’d rather you rip into the red baggies than my sensitive neck.”

Vamp? Had she just called him a Vamp?

He opened his mouth to correct her, when he caught the unmistakable scent.

“Tamryn, stop hassling him.”

That voice. All sultry and sexy, he wondered what it would sound like in the morning.

“Hello, Cian. How’re you?”

Tamryn laughed and sidled off, throwing a “good luck, Eve” over her shoulder.

For the first time he learned her true name. Eve, he thought. Like the dawn.

Eve smiled--her cheeks flushed a pearly pink. “Don’t mind my sister. She just can’t help herself.”

He grinned. The monstrous knot in his stomach began to unwind. “I ah...” he scratched the back of his head, “was just in the neighborhood and decided to stop in and check out the shop. I had no idea you worked here.”

“Oh really?” Her teasing gold eyes sparkled with disbelief.

The realization of just how dumb that excuse was hit him like a boulder in the chest.

She gave a good-natured shrug, exposing the pale flesh of her shoulder as she did it. The soft pink and white top seemed to glow against her skin. The black mass of hair spilling down her back only added to the ethereal vision before him. She was heart achingly beautiful.

“Oddly coincidental in a city this size,” she smiled, “but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Her fingers idly toyed with the ruby stone of her silver neckpiece. Beneath the ruby and silver necklace she wore another necklace, a small pentagram lay just at the juncture between chest and breasts. He couldn’t help but stare a little longer than was necessary.

She cleared her throat. He glanced at her face. A gleam twinkled in her eyes. Knowing he’d been caught, he just shrugged and gave a crooked grin. What was he to do? Deny it? Not likely. She had nice round breasts that he could easily imagine filling a man’s hands... his hands, to satisfaction.

Blood rushed through his veins and down to his shaft, stirring the length of him and making him all too aware of just how feminine Eve was and how neglected he’d been for the past century.  

“So--” she cocked her head, “want the grand tour?” She took a step closer. Her nearness agitated him, made him want to reach out and grab her, trail his finger down her neck like he’d done last night and watch the shiver course through her body.

Her rich smell surrounded him and he inhaled deeply, nodding as he did so.

Twenty minutes later the tour was winding down. Eve took him to the final row of paranormal paraphernalia.

She pointed at a nondescript white cooler sitting in the corner. “That is, of course, what Tamryn was teasing you about.”

Eve lifted up the lid and pulled out a plastic bag filled with a thick red fluid. No doubt it had to be blood. She handed one to him with a smile. “On the house.”

Cian blinked. What was he supposed to do with blood? His mouth twitched, his brain debating truth or lie and consequences of deception, but she spoke up first.

“It’s type-O. Universal donor. It’s the cheap stuff, I know. But Celeste would kill me if I gave you anything more exotic. Little more pricey, if you get my drift.” She winked.

He nodded, deciding that he wouldn’t see her again after tonight so the lie was harmless. He pocketed the packet, careful not to show his disgust at the thought of what he was supposed to do with it.

“Well,” she shrugged and looked around. An uncomfortable silence filled the gap between them. His mind had shut down the moment he’d spotted her. It seemed that Eve wasn’t overly anxious to move on herself. She seemed desperate to find something to say, her roving gaze attested to that.

Then she lighted on a shelf a few feet away. “Oh, yeah I forget.” She marched over to a shelf filled with cases full of highly polished stakes. Her steps were quick and excited and he could feel the relief running off her in waves. “And these are our Vamp stakes.”

She laughed and he decided he liked it. A lot. It was a rich, gravelly burr. Highly sensual--he shifted on the balls of his feet, anything to get the blood circulating properly instead of just centering on his growing erection--and highly erotic. A low throb built and twisted his insides in knots. By the Goddess he’d never wanted anything more.

One night. One night to pretend he was a man. Just a man wanting to be held. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“...Celeste thought it would be a great laugh to place the blood and the stakes so close together. I’m sure the vamps wouldn’t agree but...” Her lips twisted, her raven’s wing brow raised into a high peak.

“Little ironic,” he drawled.

“I think that was the point. But, we’re in neutral territory, in order to build a shop in this part of town you have to be willing to place bias’s aside and cater to all. We do, Celeste just enjoys the spectacle.”

He grinned. She had a nice smile. The bottom two center teeth were slightly crooked, both leaning towards one another.

Hearing her say the word bias, he immediately wondered if it was just a business practice on her part, or if she were one of the rare few able to forgive and forget. The words blurted from his mouth before he’d thought them through.

“What about the Fae’s?” Just a tiny flicker, a quick flash in her golden eyes, but it was enough. “I didn’t see any items here for them?” he continued, disheartened.

“What could we possibly have that they’d want? They’ve got everything. The magickal, mystical, beautiful ones.”

Her contempt rolled over his body like sharp barbs, only through sheer will was he able to keep his face composed.

“No,” she shook her head, her black hair swinging behind her like the sharp blade of a pendulum, “we have nothing for them here.”

He gave a small nod, falling quiet. He wasn’t the stereotypical fae, but somehow he sensed that really wouldn’t make much difference to her. The history of the reaper was a convoluted thing, not a path he wanted to travel down at the moment, but still her confession pierced his heart.

He should say goodbye, walk away and never return. Cian felt himself falling quick into something for which he had no name. A strange emotion that made him restless, crazy, and consumed by thoughts of her.

Save your heart, Death.

If he didn’t turn away now, he’d lose himself completely. She made him feel again, and something other than quiet detachment, loathing, or self-hatred. He found himself doing things for her he’d never wanted to do before. All just to please her.

The baggie in his pocket was a heavy reminder of that.  

If she ever found out who he worked for, the atrocities he’d committed during the Great War--not to mention what he’d done to her husband--Eve would never forgive him. The thought alone made his stomach churn with anxiety. He couldn’t handle that.

Walk away.

Eve touched his sleeve, her brows bunched, concern gleamed in her eyes. “You okay?”

Heat shot down his spine. The time to leave had passed a long time ago. It was already too late.