The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance)) (18 page)

His mind was abuzz and his stomach knotted into a sickening band. Potential. Potential for what? It was obvious that Eve’s life was in peril; even a normal could sense that. But what bothered him was her choice of words. What did potential mean? There were a million possibilities. None of which put him at ease.

“No, Cian. I cannot. I know you wish to know, and perhaps I’ve said too much. The twelve live by a strict code. We cannot alter freewill. Not even for an immortal. I’ve given you the best information I could. Decipher it if you can. But ask me nothing.”

He slumped into the seat as a great weight settled in his chest. More mystery. Less truth. What was happening and why was he the last one to know? Especially when it concerned him or Eve. Damn the immortals and their stupid ethic.

With a bitter twist to his lips he glared at her. “Who’s the twelve?”

“My sisters and I. We are the chosen.”

“What is a chosen? You’re such an enigma. What are you really, Lise? Who are you?”

“Mmmm.” She cocked her head to the side. “That is a mystery for another day.”

He growled. “Don’t know why I expected you to be any different than them.”

She just smiled, placing a wrinkled hand atop his, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. Comfort, like a mother’s hug or that familiar sweater, rolled through him. He took a deep breath, beyond tired. Weary to the bone.

“I know what you want to ask, but I can’t help you.”

He shot her a glance. “Who then? How am I supposed to stop The Morrigan? This is a fool’s errand. You know it. I know it...”

She shrugged, slipping her hand off his. “Maybe. If that’s what you feel, then yes. A fool’s errand. But even fool’s get lucky.”

He heaved a long sigh, disgusted with all the riddles, all the mystery. Why couldn’t someone give him a straight answer for once?

“Because, this is not something I can orchestrate. You must have free will to decide it. There are many paths you can take. Only one will lead you where you want to go. But you have to trust yourself.”

He rolled his eyes. “I see you can read minds.”

She laughed and sat back. “I do have a disgusting habit of meddling, I suppose. Hard not to when you’ve lived as long as I have. You’d be amazed what I hear.”

“I’m sure.” His heart grew even heavier as he continued flicking at the salt lid with single-minded diligence.

“Oh, Cian. I wish I had a better answer for you. I do. Really. But I can’t help you in this.”

“Not surprising. Seems no one has the answers to give.”

“Stay the course. You travel the right path.” The whites of her eyes shone with ivory brilliance.

He huffed, finally sliding the saltshaker away from him, dropping his head into his hands. Ideas ran through his mind. Find Frenzy. Kill him. But that wouldn’t work, because The Morrigan would only have to send another reaper and they’d be right back where they started. Grab Eve and run. Hide deep underground. In some other country. Just away. But once they started running, they’d never be able to stop, and she wouldn’t want that. She had a life here. Not to mention that if he tried it, then his truth would come out and who was to say she wouldn’t rather choose death than trust her life to a hypocrite? His heart twisted in his chest. One last option then. Find The Morrigan—

“Don’t you even think it. NO!”

Jerked from his thoughts he turned to her. “You’re not helping me. Dagda’s told me nothing. That is a good plan. At least I’d keep her alive.”

A fiery blast rippled through him. Her nostrils flared as she vibrated with anger, it flowed from her, quickened in the air like shards of ice ripping through him.

He grimaced and grabbed at his chest.

“Maybe now you’ll listen to me.”

In his anger he snapped the salt shaker, scattering salt upon the table and floor.

“I said no. Now leave it be. You’re walking the true path, Cian. Have faith in my words. Don’t give up now, because if you do, then she’s truly lost. Now...”

He narrowed his eyes as she turned to him with a large smile and snapped her fingers. A goblet of fire water suddenly sat before him on the table.

“Drink. She’s not been feeding you I see. Vampire is it?” Lise chortled with laughter, shaking her head. “Ironic that. So close and yet so far.”

He snatched up the chalice and chugged the smoky taste of overripe cherries down his throat. “Don’t make light of the situation, Lise--”

“Pft. Light of the situation. Me talking about it won’t make it any better or less worse for you. I find it hilarious.”

That was a fine way of describing his personal life. He ground his jaw, anger ate a hole through his chest. “Somehow I don’t see how any of this is funny.”

“How did your date go?” she asked, without batting a lash.

“Are you kidding me?” Was she serious? He glanced up at her over the rim of the cup, then back down, and up again. She was still staring at him, questions blazing in her eyes.

“Really?” he murmured, completely caught off guard. This woman, an ancient...and all she wanted to talk about was monotonous things like his dating habits?

A soft smile tipped the corners of her pink mouth. “My mind is consumed by so many things; I find solace in the mundane.”

He slammed the cup down on the table, not able to figure out if Lise was mocking him or not. “I don’t know why I came here today.”

 “If something as small as chatting throws you into a tailspin no wonder you’re driving yourself sick where Eve is concerned. It’s really not that big a deal. Here let me help you. Yes, Lise, the date went fine.” She gave him a pointed stare.

“Ah,” he growled. “It wasn’t a date. A chance meeting.”

“Oh,” she rolled her eyes, “I swear you take me for a fool. A chance meeting you orchestrated by making sure to stand outside her shop for hours.”

“Minor.”

“I’m sure.”

Despite himself, he grinned.

“Where are you staying?”

He drummed his fingers on the table. “Does it matter?”

“So in other words outside her window?”

“If you know the answers, why do you keep asking the questions?” He couldn’t contain his impatience.

Lise stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “You need someplace to stay.”

“Not really. I don’t plan to stick around too much longer.”

“Ah ha, right. Look, I’ve got a flat on Presidio Heights, Baker Street. Nice little place, nothing fancy. I’ll lend it to you for a while. It’s already been made over into a bachelor’s paradise, so no foolish knickknacks around to blow your cover or make her think you’re gay.”

This conversation felt very one sided to him. She kept dismissing him off hand as if what he said were of little consequence.

“No.”

She frowned. “And why not?”

“Because.”

“Please. Give me a better reason than that.”

“Because I don’t want to keep lying. Goddess Lise, I’ve said too many already. The lies are getting hard to keep track of.”

“You haven’t lied to her.”

“An omission is a lie.”

“Pft.” She huffed. “Trivial. Valiant, though stupid your reasons are, I’ll give you one of my own. She believes you a vamp. Vamps have addresses.”

“I’m not a vampire, Lise, and that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. And he read it for what it was; a warning that that she could and would lash out at him again if he continued dismissing her.

He took a deep breath, completely out of his element where this seemingly frail woman was concerned. He shifted around on the seat, glancing toward the exit, fingers fidgeting on his lap. She made him feel like a wee bairn. He growled and her smile grew wider.

“She’s going to ask questions. Wonder why you’ve never taken her to your home. Things for which you’ll have no answer to.”

“I’ll tell her the truth.”

“I don’t think so. You honestly think this to be the right time to tell her? A day, two days after meeting?”

She paused, when he didn’t answer she took his silence for agreement with a jerky nod.

He sighed. “I can’t keep doing this. All these feelings, and worrying about The Morrigan, Dagda...too much. I’m through, I’m done.”

His words were pure bravado. The truth was that the thought of her with another man, gazing up at him with adoration in her liquid gold eyes made him want to claw and roar and tear things apart. It was a soul sucking void of heartache and jealousy.

Lise covered his fist with her own, compassion written across her face. “I know you like her. You can’t afford to disillusion her, not now. She’ll be mad when she finds out. Furious. But if the foundation is solid, then she’ll come around. Unfortunately, I’m telling you to continue the farce.” She shrugged. “Not a good way to start a relationship, I know. But in your case, there is no other option.”

“Relationship,” he scoffed. “What relationship? I took her out on one date. In two days, Lise, she’s dead. What use is there in me binding myself to her?”

He was so frustrated; everything was differing shades of gray to him, so much truth being denied. Who could he turn to for answers? For help? He closed his eyes, a bitter pill to swallow. This had never been anything more than a fool’s errand. Which is probably why The Morrigan staved off Eve’s death for a few days, in the end, it wouldn’t matter anyway.

“Look at me.”

He opened his eyes, sick at heart and desperate.

She gripped his arm, her white eyes beginning to glow. “I am on your side, Cian, believe it or not. I want you to succeed. I’ve told you all I could and then some. But think it over and choose wisely.”

He ground his molars, thinking of her sweet scent, her crooked smile, and winter black hair. Too late. It was already too damn late. He could no more leave her to her fate than he could walk by a body needing harvesting. He did what he must. He defended what was his.

“Take my home,” Lise said, cutting into his thoughts.

“How did you even know to offer me your home? That I’d come and see you?” He scrubbed his hand down his face. “I didn’t even know I was coming to see you until moments ago.”

“I know things.” She shrugged.

She knew things. Frustrated, he glanced away. She knew things and wouldn’t help. Irony was, Lise probably knew exactly what he needed to do to keep Eve safe. He looked up, but didn’t say anything, just stared.

“Ahh, reaper, I’ve always sensed in you a great sadness. Recently, I’ve tasted hope. Faint, but there. Believe me when I say, you’ll know what to do when the time comes. Instinct. Remember that. It’s instincts. Not thoughts. Now...” she made a grabbing motion in the air, then turned over her fist and opened it, revealing a shiny metal key. “Take my home.”

Lise dropped the key in his hand and stood. “2166 Baker Street.”

He fisted the key in his hand. “I’m not afraid of you, Lise”

She threw her head back and laughed. “You should be.”  

“Ouch, that bad eh, kid?” Celeste grimaced and laid a sympathetic hand on Eve’s shoulder seconds after she’d just told the truth of how her date went and ended.

“So no goodbye kiss, he just walked off after your um...garbled goodnight?”

A rare moment of silence in the store had allowed the sisters time to gossip and poke fun at her expense.

“I know.” Eve groaned and bent over the glass display of crystal balls by the cash register. She shook her head on her crossed forearms as her breath fogged up the glass.

Kill me now. Ground open up and swallow me.

“Oh jeez, she’s got it bad.” Tamryn shook the bright yellow feather duster. “I mean, that was just pathetic,” she said with a laugh.

Eve stood and glared at her unrepentant sister, who at this very moment was pantomiming her most humiliating come on line in a singsong, obnoxious girly voice.

“Thanks for that, Tam. I mean you’re the best sister ever. Seriously.”

Tamryn lifted a red brow and twisted her lips. “Seriously, Eve. It wasn’t that bad.”

Her heart flipped in her chest. Sleep deprivation and humiliation could wreak havoc on a girl’s self-image. She sniffed. “You think so?”

“Yeah. I mean, if he comes back then you’ll know he
really
,” she stressed the ‘e’ long and hard, “likes you.”

“Oh jeez.” Eve slapped Tamryn’s arm and marched into the storeroom. “And here I thought you were being nice, should’a known better,” she threw over her shoulder.

“Ha. You know me. Never a dull moment.”

Both sisters snickered as the bell above the door jingled heralding the arrival of another customer and a temporary cease fire to the very embarrassing conversation

***

Eve glanced at the clock.

“...I’ll also need some dried dandelions, white willow, and jasmine.”

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, only catching the tail end of what the elderly witch had asked for.

He looked at her, his mouth opened in a small gap of disgust. He then ticked the list of ingredients off on his fingers impatiently. “Arrowroot, white willow...”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I got the rest. Let me go get them.”

He lifted a shaggy gray brow.

She turned and headed to the backroom, scratching the tail feather of her now itching tattoo. Had it only been this morning that she’d made the biggest idiot of herself?