In the Midnight Hour, page 15
“And she’s family. Anyone else?”
“The council gave me a vote of confidence and there was Creed. That was a surprise because I hardly knew him then.”
Deke almost growled, but he was glad there’d been someone in Ryne’s corner. She was tense again, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You were a better friend than any of those cowards deserved.”
He wanted to say more, but he wasn’t sure what. As crazy as Ryne could make him, Deke far preferred her telling him what to do than lying quietly. She shifted and he swallowed a groan. Here he was trying to be nice and she had to torture him. “Do that again.”
“Stop thinking about sex so much.”
There was more life in her voice and that heartened him. Nothing to chase away the blues like being royally pissed off, and when it came to angering Ryne, he was the best—he’d bet the bank on it. “It’s tough to think about anything else when you keep wiggling that gorgeous ass of yours.”
Ryne went rigid. “What the hell are you talking about?”
There was a definite growl in her voice. One more good push should do the trick. “I’ve known you what? Four days? And in that time, whenever I’ve had your body against mine, you wiggle.”
She jerked loose and went up on her knees. “You’re the one who keeps wrapping himself around me.”
Deke sat up. “And you’re the one who crawls on top of me when we’re in bed.” He smirked because he knew how much she hated that. “Let’s face it, you’re a prick tease.”
She dove at him, catching him off guard. Instead of using her fists, Ryne was trying to wrestle him into submission. “I am not a prick tease,” she snarled when she straddled him and pinned his wrists beside his head.
“Look at our position.”
The dawning horror on her face said it all. With a scowl, she scrambled to her feet and wordlessly escaped into the bathroom. The door closed sharply behind her.
Deke tucked his hands behind his head and grinned. His fireball was back, and damn, he was glad to see her.
11
CHAPTER
As they walked through the neighborhood where Deke used to live, Ryne kept her attention focused outward, scanning for any threat. It was chilly enough in Los Angeles for a light jacket, but the sun was shining and the day was pleasant. She’d rather be in the car because that made an attack more difficult, but he’d muttered something about wanting a closer look and parked. She hadn’t argued after she’d seen his grim expression.
Their hands brushed from time to time, and earlier Deke had tried to hold on to her, but Ryne had pulled free. He probably believed that she was still mad about the prick tease remark, but that wasn’t it. If she needed to react, every second counted.
After her temper had cooled, she’d figured out why he’d said it—Deke had wanted her mad enough to stop thinking about the past. It was a tactic she might have employed had the situation been reversed. Anything sappy or emotional made her uncomfortable and maybe he felt the same way. Hell, he was male, odds were good that her mood had made him uneasy, so he’d gotten the info he’d wanted, then torqued her off enough to burn the mopiness out of her. Ryne grimaced slightly, embarrassed that he’d seen her wallowing like that.
She made another thorough study of the area. Everywhere she looked there were expensive imports—Lexus, BMW, Mercedes, Range Rover—she didn’t see one domestic or affordable vehicle. It wasn’t merely the cars; signs of affluence were rife. The high-end boutiques alone told the story.
“You used to live here, huh? The pay for private detectives must be better than I thought.”
“It’s not.”
His sharp tone surprised her, then she figured it out. “Skyrocketing property values changed the makeup of the area?”
Deke didn’t respond, he just kept walking. Damn, the man could be a pain in the ass. She picked up her pace to stay even with him, but they didn’t go too much farther before he stopped and slid his arm around her shoulders.
“That was my apartment building.” Deke pointed briefly to a white, three-story structure across the street. “The security was minimal when I lived there and it would have been easy enough to circumvent. It’ll be a lot tougher now.”
Ryne didn’t know how he’d determined that so she decided to take his word for it. But had the area really changed? Her next question was guaranteed to upset him, but it had to be asked. “Are you certain this is where you lived?”
“Yes,” he snapped and took off, leaving her where she stood.
She knew why he was angry—he was scared that this was another memory from the cartoon Deke rather than his real life. Shaking her head, she chased after him. “Don’t walk off like that again, hotshot. I’m—” she stopped abruptly before she said protecting you. That would only piss him off. “I’m shorter than you are,” Ryne substituted quickly.
The skeptical glance Deke gave her told her it was a fairly weak explanation, but he didn’t call her on it. “There’s a security guard in the lobby,” he pointed out as they walked past the front of the building.
“What about side entrances?” Ryne asked. “Residents tend to be careless about making sure they latch behind them.”
Deke gave her that infernal smirk. “The alternate entrances are what I planned to check out next.”
Ryne scowled. Okay, he’d already thought of that; she was only trying to help. She took a deep breath and attempted to put herself in his place. He’d come back to his home and nothing was the same. Intellectually, Deke had to have accepted that his possessions were long gone, but seeing the changes must have hit him emotionally. He was homeless, had no access to his bank accounts, and owned nothing more than what she’d bought him.
Yeah, he was entitled to be shaken.
They turned the corner. The first door was an emergency exit and had no outside handle. “This was a great place to live,” Deke said quietly. “It’s a few miles from the beach and I had friendly neighbors. We used to have parties that involved the entire building. I wonder where everyone went?”
Ryne did take his hand then, wanting to offer him the same kind of comfort he’d given her earlier. “After we get this thing with Anise resolved, I’ll help you look for your friends.”
Deke shook his head. “It’s not worth it. The only thing we had in common was where we lived. With that gone . . .” He shrugged.
The side of the structure was much longer than the front. There was a second emergency exit, but it was identical to the first. They kept walking. “You don’t think there’s anyone left from when you were here?” she asked as they neared the back.
“I doubt it. Not unless someone won the lottery or found themselves a much better job than what they had then.”
The rear had a small parking lot with expensive vehicles scattered throughout and four green Dumpsters along the apartment building’s wall. She took a careful look around. It was a good place for someone to set an ambush. Unlikely? Maybe. But as the line went, they paid her to be paranoid.
Ryne was occupied studying the area and didn’t see the small stone on the asphalt in front of her. Her foot sent it sailing under the first Dumpster, disturbing a rat. The rodent scurried out, looking for a new place to hide. It froze her. Her heart thundered and her pulse zoomed. The urge to incinerate it had her raising her hand, but she couldn’t waste magic like this or risk being caught shooting fire for no good reason. She struggled to breathe, then the rat ran the opposite direction from where she stood. Only then did she shakily exhale.
“Are you okay?” Deke asked, looking at her with concern.
She was saved from having to admit to her phobia when the door ahead of them opened. The sound jerked her to her senses. Ryne tugged her hand free from Deke’s and drew on the element of fire, ready to shoot it in an instant if the situation warranted.
It didn’t.
The Hispanic man was startled by them and dropped the garbage bags he was holding. He looked to be around sixty and had on the type of uniform someone who was part of building maintenance would wear.
“Jay, is that you?” Deke asked. He closed the distance fast, not waiting for an answer.
Ryne had to rush after him—again. Damn it, he’d promised her not to contact anyone he knew and what did he do the first time he spotted someone familiar? Deke called his name and headed straight over to him.
“Deke Summers,” the older man said with a faint accent. “You disappeared. They said you were dead.”
“Not yet.” Deke offered his hand and the two of them shook.
“You often spoke of living on a tropical island. Perhaps with the money you were paid for the cartoon show, that’s where you were.”
With a noncommittal grunt, Deke changed the subject. “Things have sure changed around here.”
“They have, though not for the better.” Jay turned to her and said, “You must be Deke’s friend.”
Deke performed introductions, but it was a hurried thing, his interest clearly elsewhere. “When did the turnover happen?”
“It wasn’t long after you vanished that the owners decided to renovate the units and raise the rent.”
“And no one could afford to live here anymore.”
“Not at the new rate.” The older man stooped to pick up what he’d dropped and Deke bent to help him. Each of them tossed a bag in the trash bin. “The new residents aren’t like the good, hardworking people that were here when you were. Few now take care of anything. Soon, though, it will not be my worry.”
“The owners didn’t fire you, did they?” Deke asked.
Jay shook his head. “No, in five months, I retire.” A smile spread across the man’s face.
Ryne didn’t interrupt as Deke asked question after question about people she didn’t know. She paid more attention when he inquired after who lived in his old apartment, but the men quickly moved on to other topics.
The late afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky and she buttoned her jacket against the cool breeze. It took awhile before Deke got around to asking what happened to his things, but Jay didn’t know the answer. Finally, the conversation drew to a close and they shook hands again before the older man went back inside the building.
“Come on, babe,” Deke said and took her elbow.
She was quiet as they crossed the parking lot, but when they turned back onto the sidewalk, she said, “For a while, I thought you were going to ask Jay to help us get inside your old unit.”
“That’s what I was planning, but how could I? If we got caught and anyone figured out he’d been involved, he’d lose his job at the very least. Five months till retirement.” Deke shook his head. “I couldn’t put him in that position.”
“It might have been for nothing anyway. He said the apartment units were renovated and your notes might not even be there anymore.”
“I know.”
Ryne remained quiet although she wanted to ask him what he was thinking. He’d told her that he understood how dangerous it was if he talked to his old friends. The Gineal didn’t have the resources or enough troubleshooters to protect a large number of humans at one time. She’d told Deke that as well.
They reached the car and he opened the passenger door for her. He rounded the hood, and once he was seated, Ryne got in herself. “No more contact with people you know,” she warned him.
They pulled out into traffic. “I already promised I wouldn’t. Running into Jay was a fluke.”
He sounded angry, but Ryne figured that was because he didn’t like being reminded that simply talking to them could put targets on his friends’ backs. She changed the subject. “What’s our next step on the notes?”
Instead of answering, Deke asked, “You hungry?”
Ryne blinked at the non sequitur. She glanced down at the dashboard clock, but it wasn’t even six yet. Of course, with the time difference, it was past dinnertime at home and she was ready to eat. “Yeah. Do you know any good restaurants?”
“I used to. Let’s see how many are still around.”
They hit pay dirt on their fourth attempt. It was deep dusk by then and Ryne was edgy. It wasn’t that the night made attack more likely, but it was easier to conceal it until it was too late. She kept her senses extended, scanning the area until she and Deke were sitting side by side in a booth.
“Sorry about the prices. If you want,” he said, “we can go somewhere else.”
Opening her menu, Ryne took a look for herself and discovered why he sounded uncomfortable. “Don’t worry about it. This is business travel.” She grinned. “Everything gets expensed to the Gineal Company.”
“I pay my own way.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so stubborn about this. The trip isn’t coming out of my pocket. If I wanted to, I could turn in everything I’ve spent on you and get it reimbursed.” The hard set to his jaw told her she was wasting her breath. “Fine. We’ll add it to your tab.”
She flipped open the menu again, but Deke took it from her. “I don’t want you to think I’m unappreciative of what you’ve done—I am—but it’s important to me not to take handouts.”
One look at his face was all it took to decide how serious Deke was about this. There had to be a story there, but before she could ask, the waitress come over and introduced herself. By the time she left, the opportunity was lost.
Ryne reached for a menu and scanned the choices—mostly surf and turf with a few pasta and vegetarian dishes thrown in. It didn’t take long to decide what they wanted, and once they’d given their orders and relinquished the menus, she returned to the question she’d asked earlier. “What’s the plan on your notes? Mission scrubbed?”
“You don’t have to sound so hopeful,” he complained.
“Sorry, but I wasn’t crazy about this idea from the start.”
Deke reached for his water and drank before he said, “Yeah, I know.” He turned toward her, smiled, and voice low, said, “I was thinking, though.”
“Uh-oh.”
He ignored that. “Why don’t you zap the notes into my hands? Easy.”
She shook her head. “If I could make them appear just like that, I never would have flown to L.A. There’s nothing I like about this trip, especially the fact that you’re in danger here.”
“On TV—”
“Do I have to tell you again that Hollywood doesn’t have some inside track on how Gineal magic works? I can’t call forth anything of yours no matter how much I’d like to.”
Their dinner arrived, delaying the conversation. When they were alone again, Deke asked, “You can zip books in and out of your library, so why the hell can’t you get my notes?”
Ryne swallowed before she spoke. “Mainly because of the spell that Anise used to make you a cartoon. There’s a phrase in there about disassociating you from all worldly ties—that includes everything you own. If I can’t use your energy signature to home in on them, I can’t transport them to us.”
Deke salted his french fries and said, “Why didn’t you tell me this when I first brought up the idea?”
Stiffening with indignation, Ryne whispered heatedly, “Not once while we discussed this did you mention using my powers to get your notes, so I thought you knew I couldn’t.”
“You’ve pointed out more than once how ignorant I am of your people. Why would you think I knew?”
She opened her mouth, couldn’t come up with anything to say, and took a bite of her filet instead. He was right—she should have realized he was clueless. Not only was he human, but he would have had to read the spell to know what it entailed. “Sorry. You’re right. My only excuse is that I’ve pored over that incantation for years and know it backward and forward.”
They ate in silence for a while. “Explain this energy thing to me. Why would I have ties to the notes?”
Basic. Something any Gineal child knew by the time she was old enough to start school. Ryne didn’t tell him that, though. Instead she explained how people put their personal energy into things they handled often. Deke, of course, had a million and one questions and that took them through dinner.
“We still haven’t addressed the issue of the notes,” Ryne pointed out as she dug her spoon into her sherbet.
“What’s there to discuss?” He reached over to help himself to a bite and Ryne slapped his hand away.
“You’ve got your own dessert.”
“It’s delicious, too. Here, try.” Deke fed her a spoonful of crème brûlée. Her eyes closed and she hummed softly. “Good?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s better than sex.”
“You can only say that because I haven’t made you come yet.”
“That’s arrogant.”
He shook his head. “Nope, it’s confidence that the heat we share isn’t going to fizzle when I’m deep inside you.” Deke leaned closer and ran his index finger over her lower lip. “Babe, it’s going to be so fucking good with us—just thinking about it gets me hard.”
As she stared into his eyes, Ryne found it easy to imagine the weight of his body over hers, the way his hands would feel touching her intimately, and she shifted. The awareness arced between them. Then someone laughed loudly, reminding her they were in a restaurant, and she pulled away, tamping down the desire.
“Eat your sherbet,” he told her when he’d reined in his desire. “It’s melting.”
Ryne eyed his dessert enviously, but didn’t ask for a second taste. She’d gotten herself in enough trouble with the first. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve diverted me each time I ask about your plans for those notes.”
“I should have guessed you’d catch on.”
“Well?”
He grimaced. “I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do. I want to put my hands on them—I’m sure they hold the key to why Anise cursed me—but it’s risky.”
With security tighter, it had to be. “Why don’t you introduce yourself to the people who live there and explain that it used to be your apartment and that you left something.”
