Blue Diablo cs-1 Read online

  Jeannie grinned. “Cold and strong. Want one?”

  I considered for a moment. “Nah, I think I need to shake things up a bit. Can you make a blue diablo?”

  Tequila, Blue Curacao, lemon juice, and Rose’s lime juice, served over ice. I wasn’t a heavy drinker, but I liked my tequila. Well, the good stuff anyway—the cheap variety produced a fast drunk and a wicked hangover. For my money, Patrón was best for sipping, followed by Herradura for mixing, but you couldn’t go wrong with Don Julio either.

  She cocked her hip and answered with an exaggerated Southern accent. “I can make anything you’d know to order, sweet pea.”

  “You feeling blue deviled, sugar?” Saldana’s voice came low near my ear, limned in sympathy.

  “You don’t know the half of it.” I spoke beneath the music.

  Between Chance and his missing mama, it was a wonder I didn’t stay right here at the bar until I forgot my own name. I didn’t want to talk about it, so I changed the subject. I leaned toward Saldana. “Jeannie. That’s not... I mean, she doesn’t—” To my embarrassment she heard me when she returned with his beer.

  Her gray eyes twinkled, crinkling at the edges when she smiled. I revised my estimate of her age to north of forty. “Grant wishes? The whole ‘yes, master,’ flick my ponytail thing? Nah, that’s just my name.”

  “Right.” I hunched my shoulders, feeling out of my depth.

  “Thanks, Jeannie. Is Twila around?” Right then I could’ve kissed Saldana for changing the subject.

  The bartender arched a well-plucked brow. “How come you don’t come in here just to see me anymore?”

  Jesse came back, “Because your husband threatened to tie me up with my own intestines if I didn’t stop mooning after his woman.”

  She beamed. “Twenty years, and Bucky’s still a sweetheart.” I didn’t think that sounded sweet, but I’d already made an ass of myself. “She’s in the office, honey. You can take your drinks on back.” Her gaze returned to me. “I’ll have yours in a minute.”

  Jesse headed off, but I waited until she delivered my diablo in a chilled, salted glass. “Nice meeting you,” I said to her.

  “Come on.” As he wove through the tables, he beckoned me. “I know she’ll want to meet you.”

  Will she? Why?

  The fly-spider feeling came over me but I fought the urge to cut and run. Mustering my courage, I followed him.

  Two Truths and a Lie

  Twila turned out to be a tall, dark-skinned woman with long braids bound back in a golden snood. She didn’t look surprised to see us as she rose and offered a hand to Saldana. Her office offered more faded opulence; the pawnshop owner in me immediately started pricing the furniture.

  The heavy cherry desk appeared to be a genuine antique and as such would fetch a hefty price. On a nearby table twin candles burned, filling the room with the smell of incense. The distant throb of bass from the bar shivered into the soles of my feet, rousing the urge to dance, except that’d be socially inappropriate. I fought the urge to tug on my sweater in the face of her penetrating onyx gaze.

  “Jesse,” she said in the sort of smoky voice that made me think of sex. God only knew what effect it must have on Saldana. Her accent rang faintly with an island flavor. Haiti, perhaps. “It’s been too long. Who have you brought me?”

  I didn’t like her phrasing. Typically, offerings got tied to a rock and left for a hungry dragon. I eyed the door over my shoulder. Dammit, I shouldn’t have worn the wedge heels.

  “Hello, Twila.” To my astonishment, Saldana bent and kissed her knuckles in a courtly gesture.

  Should I curtsy? I thought it would be pretty hard to pull that off in cargo pants. Figures, the one time I don’t wear a skirt... I contented myself with a nod.

  “Nice to meet you,” I murmured.

  “Sit down, won’t you?” She indicated the leather chairs across from her desk.

  Since this was Saldana’s show, I sat back while he performed the introductions.

  Twila studied me for a moment before turning to him. “I see why you brought her. Fascinating.” In her eyes I saw she already knew my secrets, all of them, great and small. But how could she? “You smell of fire. I see it licking at your aura.”

  I swallowed. Quite uncomfortable to have your secrets laid bare. “Do I?”

  “You fear your gift,” she went on. “You fear everything you touch will turn to ash.”

  It always does, sooner or later.

  “Such a long shadow, falling on you year after year.” I glimpsed distance in her eyes then, as if she saw beyond the office walls. “It shaped what has been and what will be, but you can part your path from it, if you make the right choices.”

  Color me cynical. “I suppose you’re going to tell me what those are.”

  To my surprise, she shook her head. “Only you can decide your course, child. Seldom have I seen two such divergent futures. One is dark indeed. But this much I can tell you: those who broke your heart so long ago did not act of their own volition. They too were shadow-touched.”

  I felt raw, exposed, but I had to ask. “You’re saying something made them want to hurt my mother?”

  “Suspicion and jealousy, mere embers fanned to violent life. Yes. If you want the truth, you must return to Kilmer.”

  I shuddered. Before, there had remained to me a kernel of doubt. Saldana might have brought me here for some bizarre reason of his own, intending to impress me. There might not be any truth to his claims of a gifted secret society. But my skepticism dissolved. There was no orthodox way she could know about my hometown, and she hadn’t gleaned her knowledge via any ritual I recognized. According to my mother’s books, a spell like that took time.

  “How do you know such things?”

  With a faint, feral smile, Twila shook her head. “No. You get nothing more for free. If you expect more of me, you must earn it.”

  I glanced at Saldana, who sat beside me quiet and impassive. “What do you want?”

  She slid a dagger toward me. “Read this and tell me what you see.”

  So it would be a sacrifice, after all.

  Though it meant another scar, I didn’t hesitate. I wrapped my fingers around the blade, braced for the pain. It came in long, red waves, worse than usual, and by the time I let go, I felt sick. The knife clattered to the desk.

  “You used it to kill a man,” I managed. “Stabbed him through the heart.”

  Her gaze flickered to the cop beside me, as if wondering whether she could be arrested on that basis alone. “Some men need killing.”

  I couldn’t argue with that, as I wrapped my wounded palm around my iced glass. Jesse reached for my hand and I don’t know why I let him take it, possibly because he could feel my nausea and pain. For a moment he merely studied the livid burn.

  “I’ll get you some ice,” he said, and left me alone with her.

  “You are real.” Her tone reflected a peculiar sort of wonder. “People would kill to make use of you.” That much I knew. “I’ve only met one before you. He came from a family of gifted, though, so his talent didn’t carry the same price.”

  “Lucky him,” I muttered. “How come it sucks so much for me?” It was mostly a rhetorical question.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to call on this ability effortlessly. No pain. No fire. Sometimes I wanted nothing more than for it to burn itself out, leaving me normal.

  She seemed to think I really wanted an answer. “Think of it this way. Your power doesn’t come natural. When you use it, you’re exercising a limb where the transplant didn’t quite take. That’s why it wounds you.”

  An unexpected quirk of the spell—I can’t imagine my mother meant for me to suffer. I don’t think she wanted me to feel her pain every time I touched a charged object, but some things even a good witch can’t foresee. I’d probably never know what went wrong in her final moments.

  I sighed. “I guess there’s no cure for that.”

  “I�
�m afraid not.”

  Saldana returned with a dishcloth full of ice, which I took. He sank down beside me, somehow expectant. Then I realized I should tell her about the sending. Perhaps she could shed some light on things. Quickly I summarized the details.

  “Unfortunately, I’m not the one to ask. Like yours, my ability doesn’t rely on ritual.”

  “You have the Sight?”

  “That’s one word for it. In exchange for certain... tribute, the Loa let me see threads of fate. It’s not... linear, as you know it, and not entirely reliable. I see the larger patterns in play, forces influencing the balance.” The light glazed her dusky skin, made of her eyes twin shadows that drank the light. “It hasn’t been this bad since the Black Death.”

  A chill ran over me, dead man’s hands. Dark times. I’ve said so myself, even lacking the ability to see as Twila did.

  “Do you know what’s causing it?”

  “I could speculate.” She tilted her head, cast a meaningful look at Saldana. “To find your enemy, you should see Maris, but I don’t think she’s in tonight. She’ll know who could manage such a powerful sending.”

  “I know where she lives,” Saldana said quietly.

  I caught the undercurrent. One of his exes? I knew about Heather, now Maris, and who else? If there were a few more, he rivaled me for busted relationships.

  A half smile curved her mouth. “I suppose you do. I don’t recommend you risk a hotel, though. You’ll need protection and there’s nowhere safer than right here. You can borrow the guest apartment upstairs.”

  “Why are you being so nice?” There had to be a catch.

  Saldana frowned at me even as she replied, “It often proves helpful to have people in my debt, Corine. You would do well to remember that.”

  Right. Her kindness concealed a mercenary bent. Oddly that reassured me. Since I didn’t want to be awakened by flying glass, I decided to accept her offer.

  Before standing, I downed my drink. “I’m pretty tired. Can we go up?”

  “Certainly. Jesse knows the way. It was a pleasure meeting you.” As I reached the door, following Saldana, she added, “By the way, you’ve carried the weight of a lie your whole life. Your father didn’t leave. He was taken. More patterns than you know bind you and your former lover.”

  I would have turned, asked more, but Saldana took hold of my arm, leading me along the dark hallway toward some stairs. “That was meant to tempt you,” he explained, “but to get more information from her now, you’d need to offer something else. I don’t think you’re in any shape to do another reading, and anything else would be...” He trailed off, letting me interpret the kind of thing Twila might ask.

  I shivered. “Thanks.”

  Between residual nausea and the tequila spiking through my veins, I felt both euphoric and shaky. Saldana kept his hand on me as we climbed to the next landing, where he opened the first door. We stepped through to a flat I could only describe as witchy, full of cut crystal figurines and blue velvet.

  Two more steps and I collapsed on the overstuffed couch. Jesse sank down beside me, his hand hovering as though he didn’t know what to do but wanted to do something. After a moment I managed a smile but it came from a place that hurt, newly raw.

  “I should have warned you. Twila can be... intense. And she is assuredly not to be trusted, but she isn’t one of your enemies, which makes her an ally, if a dangerous one.”

  “Enemies. You say that as if you’re sure I have loads.” I tried to laugh.

  His bitter chocolate eyes turned somber. “You’re too wary for it to be otherwise, Corine. I’ve never met anyone more...”

  Broken? Closed? I waited for the word confirming me as one of his pet projects. I felt a soft sinking inside because that would mean he could never see me as a person, only something in dire need of fixing.

  Then he shook his head. His arm came around my shoulders, as if he’d finally made up his mind what he should do. “Lean on me until you feel better. It’s all right.”

  I suspected he’d said that many times over the course of his checkered career, but in that moment, I weakened. His chest felt warm and strong against my head. I closed my eyes, listening to the steady thump of his heart. Bit by bit, the nausea receded, left me with the dull throb of my seared hand.

  An empathic cop for a mentor. Who would’ve ever imagined I’d wind up with such a thing? That suggested an avuncular relationship, but the way he held me didn’t feel entirely paternal. I liked his quiet strength and his heat, perhaps a little too much. Too easily I could lose myself in sex. I imagined leading him to the bedroom and lying down on smooth sheets, imagined rough breathing and the sweet tangle of limbs.

  Jesse rested his chin on my hair until I sat up. “I’m fine now. We should—”

  By the lambent light in his eyes, I could tell he sensed my mood, if not the specific thoughts. He licked his lips and pulled his hands away from me.

  “The worst thing about this,” he said hoarsely, “is that I don’t always know what I want. I feel what other people do... and it’s hard to separate their desires from my own, particularly when it’s raw lust. It’s easier when it’s a girlish crush since I’m not susceptible to those. But sheer, animal sex... yeah. I’m prone to that.”

  I didn’t touch him, but I wanted his mouth, and he knew it. “Then you already know I’m in the mood for a quick, hard fuck. I don’t want sweet words or promises. I want a hot body on top of me, and that’s all, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  Jesse exhaled shakily. He swayed toward me. “It’s sounding better by the second.”

  “Would you want me if you weren’t echoing my impulses?” That was it, I realized. “Am I your type?”

  Soul of Discretion

  “I don’t know,” he said in frustration. “No, I didn’t take one look at you and imagine doing you on my desk yesterday. But I don’t have a type either. Right now you look fine and you smell great.” He spoke the last word on a growl.

  My heart pounded. Much as I wanted to give over, I couldn’t. Part of me felt it was one thing to leave Chance wondering whether I had and quite another to do it. I also couldn’t lay down with Jesse without knowing for sure he wanted me back. Me, not an echo of my own lust—that seemed too close to masturbation. Not that I object to such, but if I’m going to do that, I might as well get on with it and not catch some poor cop in the backlash.

  “It’s not a good idea,” I repeated. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

  Saldana dropped his head into his hands and his voice came out muffled. “Second bedroom on the right. I think I’ll take a shower.”

  My knees trembled as I retreated. Any more of him and I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions; too bad, because I didn’t really want to be. Deep down I’d love it if he took me on the floor like an animal. If nothing else, this proved he intended only my introduction around here, though. He truly meant to be my mentor before I distracted him. I sighed over that as I shut the door behind me.

  Fey and winsome, the room matched the rest of the apartment. I coveted the bed with its strange carvings and the matching side table that sported claws on its legs. After stripping to my camisole, I crawled beneath the covers. The things Twila had said worked on me, though, and I found it hard to sleep.

  When I finally did, I dreamed of great rushing things made of wind.

  I woke early to the first fingers of light stealing across the floor. Nobody had disturbed me that I could recall, and either Twila’s wards held, or nothing came looking for me during the night. For the first time I began to feel anxious about Chance. I’d always assumed I was the eye of the storm and that trouble followed because of me, but what if—

  Well, I refused to entertain the possibilities when I was two hours away and couldn’t see if he was all right.

  Saldana sat at the small bistro-style table in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee. He looked even rougher than I felt.

  “You’ll want another shower befor
e we go see your ex,” I mumbled. It’s hard knowing what to say the morning after you didn’t sleep with the guy who probably would’ve been a glorious, mind-blowing mistake. “Then I need to get back.”

  “I’m not sure all the showers in the world will help,” he said dryly. “But noted.”

  I made myself some toast. Apparently Twila’s hospitality only ran so far, as the cupboard offered a box of tea, instant coffee, cornflakes, and some stale bread. It wasn’t bad slathered with jam.

  When he emerged with his tawny hair slicked back, I decided I could do with some freshening up too. I didn’t want to meet someone new looking like I’d been pulled backward through a hedge. By the time we were ready to go, the ornate wall clock in the living room read quarter to eleven.

  “Some day off, huh?” I muttered.

  He grinned as we made our way downstairs. The sun shone bright for a November morning, and in daylight the area looked even seedier but not actively dangerous. Jesse read my look and said, “Twila is more dangerous than anything you’d find on these streets. Half the community owes her one way or another, so it would take some steel balls to try anything on her home ground.”

  “Good to know. Maybe some of her scary will rub off.”

  After deactivating the alarm on the Forester, he opened my door for me. “You’re fine the way you are, Corine.”

  “If you say so.” I got in, none too sure of that.

  We drove across San Antonio to a neighborhood just off the freeway. Nothing stood out—all the houses were built along the same styles. The only differences came in lawn ornaments or siding choices. Jesse parked the SUV before a pale gold house whose front yard boasted an impressive collection of bearded gnomes in various poses.

  Despite the warmth of the sun, a chill crawled down my back the closer we came to the house. It was the middle of a workday, true, so perhaps that explained the unearthly stillness, but there should be birds at least. I heard nothing but silence.

  Saldana cut me a sharp look as he rapped on the front door. “Maris should be here. She does palm and tarot readings from home.”