“Meaning Tain asked the demon to keep you away?” Amber asked. “Oh come on, Adrian.”
“I might be right.”
Amber bounced onto her knees and faced him, clenching her fists. “No, you want to be right. You’re trying to make it easy for yourself so you can walk away from the nightmare. Well, I’m not walking. I’m going to find Tain for you. Once I have him, if Tain doesn’t want to come home with you, that’s his business.”
Adrian’s voice went cold. “You’re staying out of it, Amber. It has nothing to do with you.”
Amber’s anger mounted. “So . . . what? I’m supposed to hide and wait because it’s not technically my fight? Am I not allowed to help someone because I care about him?”
Adrian went still, his eyes dark and enigmatic, no longer letting her in. She thought with a little regret that she’d never again see the starry night she’d seen when they’d made love. Adrian was shutting her out.
“If you mean you care for me, it’s a mistake,” Adrian said, voice quiet.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Amber made her words firm. “Don’t suppose I’m madly in love with you, or I’ll die if you reject me, or anything like that. I’m allowed to help a friend because I care for him.” Adrian continued to study her, his brown arms folded across the pillow, and Amber started to babble. “I mean, you’re a great lover, but hey, I’ll get over you in no time. I’ve got men lined up waiting to eat out of my hand.”
Adrian’s brows pinched into a sudden scowl. “What men?”
“I thrive on going out with the supernatural, Mr. Immortal One. I even dated a vampire, buster.”
“By accident,” he said. “I’m going to find this Julio and make him dust. Septimus probably has connections in Seattle.”
Amber stopped her teasing. “So it’s all right for you to be protective of me, but I’m not allowed to be of you?”
“It’s dangerous, Amber.” Adrian took on the flat note again. “This is far more dangerous than anything you’ve ever faced, and don’t tell me about being friends with werewolves and sleeping with vampires. This demon is an Old One who can squash you between his fingers. He’s dangerous, and I’m dangerous. And if anything happened to you, I’d . . .” He trailed off.
“You’d what?” Amber leaned closer, her heart beating faster. “You’ve only just met me. Why should you care if anything happens to me?”
Adrian gave her a stubborn look. “Because I’d care.”
“And I’d care if something happened to you.” Amber raked the short ends of her hair from her face and let out another breath. “What are we going to do?”
Adrian touched her thigh, sliding his finger along the fold of her knee. “I didn’t want this to happen.”
“I didn’t want it to happen either. But it did.”
The fierceness in Adrian’s face softened a little, and he slid his hand to her waist. “Come here.”
Amber pushed aside crumpled sheets and leaned to him. The kiss he gave her was deep, hot, passionate. She could fall in love with the taste of him alone, a bite of spice like young wine.
When Adrian eased away, his eyes were lighting, power growing with his arousal. “I want to make love to you again.”
“I won’t say no,” Amber said, smiling.
“You should say no.”
“But I won’t.”
Adrian rolled over on top of her and slid his hand between them, giving her a look of satisfaction. “You give in to me too easily.”
“You’re a powerful Immortal being, as you keep pointing out. What chance do I have?”
“None at all,” Adrian said, and then they both made a sound of pleasure as he entered her again. “You’re always so tight. Damn, you feel so good.”
Amber’s thoughts were too scattered to answer. He began to love her, driving deeper with every thrust.
Just when things were at their most interesting, the bed moving in earnest and the night table in danger of toppling over, someone rang the front doorbell.
Chapter Twelve
Adrian pulled on his jeans, secured Ferrin on his arm, and padded to the living room to open the front door.
On the doorstep stood Amber’s werewolf neighbor from Seattle and a fortyish man with short black hair wearing pressed slacks, a dark shirt, and a tie. The man’s light blue eyes held wry intelligence as he took in Adrian, noting his lack of shirt, jeans riding low over underwear-less hips, and mussed hair. No doubt he could smell the lovemaking on him. Sabina obviously could, because her wolf’s eyes narrowed.
Before Adrian could speak, he heard Amber come out of the bedroom, her footsteps quick, breathing agitated. She stopped short a few feet behind him.
“Detective Simon,” she said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question, Ms. Silverthorne.” Detective’s Simon’s gaze focused on her, his blue eyes going hard. “I’m still looking into the circumstances surrounding your sister’s death, and I really didn’t want you to leave town.”
“I’m not a suspect, am I?” Amber came forward, her frame lost in Adrian’s bathrobe.
Adrian saw the man’s nostrils flare and realized in a heartbeat that he was angry at more than Amber leaving town. Simon’s eyes held the uncomfortable rage of a man who had hoped he could become closer to a woman, and was now confronted with evidence that she preferred another. He tried to hold it in, to his credit, but he couldn’t quite tamp down his reaction.
Simon cleared his throat. “I wanted to question you further.”
“How on earth did you find me?” Amber asked. She switched her glare to Sabina. “And what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see what this guy was up to.” Sabina pointed a long finger at Adrian. “He comes over one night and the next morning, you’ve disappeared into thin air. Then someone reports finding your car abandoned on the side of the highway. What was I supposed to think?” She walked into the house, past Adrian who returned her scrutinizing look. “What is he, Amber? I don’t like him.”
“So you called Detective Simon?” Amber asked, sounding annoyed. “And came down here looking for me? How did you find me, by the way?”
Adrian motioned Simon to come in. Simon did so, not looking happy about it, and Adrian closed the door. “I called the detective,” Adrian said. “Did you bring them?” he asked Simon.
The man nodded. He reached into his coat and pulled out two battered spiral notebooks, and Amber’s eyes widened. “Those are Susan’s.” She looked at Adrian in confusion. “What did you do?”
“I needed to see the actual writing Susan copied or used,” Adrian said, taking the books. He ran his hand over them, feeling the taint of death magic on them. “You told me the police kept the notebooks, and we couldn’t find any more of the writing in the house. So the answer has to be here.”
He walked to the table in the big kitchen and slapped the notebooks down. He opened one and flinched when he saw the demon script, the sharp points and downward dips of the letters unnerving. He could read only a word here and there, but the script held death magic that turned his stomach.
He knew the magic was dampened—this was something copied by Susan from something else—but even so, death magic permeated it. On his arm, Ferrin morphed to a snake and let out a warning hiss.
“I know, my friend,” Adrian murmured. “But it must be done.”
“What the hell is that?” Simon demanded, staring at the snake. His hand was under his coat, the leather of his shoulder holster showing against his shirt.
“This is Ferrin,” Adrian said. “He’s fine once you get to know him.”
Sabina moved her gaze to Amber. “Are you all right? Did he kidnap you? If he did, say so, and I’ll take him out.” She returned a glare to Adrian, her scent changing as her magic built with her intent to shift into wolf form.
Adrian pressed her mind, less gently than he did with Amber, but he needed Sabina to understand. He saw her eyes flicker as he showed her ve
ry clearly where she stood in his world. Her throat moved, her hackles lowering, but she still gave him a warning look, which amused him. She was certainly Amber’s friend.
“You should return to Seattle,” he told Sabina and Simon. “This evidence is dangerous to possess, and you will be safer once you leave it with me. Amber is more protected in this house than anywhere in the world, so here she stays.”
Detective Simon bristled. “I’m investigating a murder.”
“And I’m trying to keep Amber from being slaughtered by the ancient demon who killed her sister. These books will help me do it. There’s plenty of food and drink in the kitchen, so you can fill up before you go. Help yourself.”
He turned back to the notebooks, ignoring the angry looks of the others.
The visitors didn’t leave. Sabina decided to take him at his word and rummaged in the kitchen for coffee and tea. Detective Simon sat down with coffee to watch Adrian, his aggression palpable but professional curiosity mixed with it.
Amber shut herself in the guest room for a while and emerged dressed in the sexy clothes Adrian had purchased for her, though she tried to downplay the sexiness by wearing a crocheted poncho over the cropped tank and low-riding jeans. Detective Simon glanced at her once, then away, but Adrian didn’t miss the hunger in the man’s eyes. It wasn’t feral hunger, but the simple desire of a man for a woman, tinged with sadness because Simon now knew the lay of the land.
Adrian could explain that he was the one who should feel sad. Amber was a beautiful and compelling woman, but Adrian could only have her for a little while. Adrian would go on being an Immortal warrior, chasing demons and vampires, and Detective Simon would remain behind with his normal life and no tendency toward centuries-long quests.
Watching the no-nonsense way Amber dragged out Adrian’s laptop and fired it up, he sensed she’d be the perfect wife for a hardworking cop—using her witchy skills to help her detective husband solve a crime, the two of them celebrating a victory. Hell.
Adrian didn’t bother getting dressed. He sat next to Amber where he could watch her skilled fingers skim the keyboard and her eyes flick over the information on the screen. He turned the pages of Susan’s notebook, which was blotched and grimy from the warehouse floor.
Deciphering the writing proved nearly impossible. Adrian knew some of the demon words, but in context they made no sense. Either it was a language their ancient demon knew that no one else did, or else it was encrypted. Amber searched for different texts, not finding much, but what little they did find didn’t compare to what Susan had written.
Adrian tried not to let his frustration boil over. He liked Amber’s warmth next to him, liked whenever their thighs touched when they studied the computer screen, her breath on his cheek when she turned to say something to him. Once when she did that he kissed her, not minding Sabina’s glare.
Amber seemed to sense when his frustration and anger built too high for them to continue. Sweet woman, she got up, stretching, saying she needed a break and suggested a walk along the beach. Sabina abandoned the coffee and went with her, but Detective Simon stayed behind.
The two young women left through the back doors in the living room, Amber leading the way down the staircase off the deck. After a while, Simon rose and helped himself to more coffee, glancing at the notebooks on the way.
“This writing—you think it’s the key?” he asked.
Adrian nodded, leaning back in his chair, his bare feet curling on the cool tile floor. “It will tell me what the demon is looking for, which I suspect has something to do with where my brother is. The demon killed Susan to keep her from finding out.”
Simon stopped, the coffee cup halfway to his mouth. “Which means he could kill Amber for the same reason.”
“He’s already tried to kill Amber. Which is why I brought her here, to a place he can’t get at her.”
Simon nodded. “Well, I’m grateful you helped her, but what is to stop you from getting at her?”
The man was angry, but it came from concern for Amber, which kept Adrian’s own anger mitigated. When Adrian gently touched Simon’s mind he discovered a man tangled in emotion—a strong compulsion to bring in the demon who’d committed murder coupled with the anguish of meeting Amber and wanting to know her, combined with the need to help Amber and knowing he couldn’t.
“I’d never hurt her,” Adrian said.
Simon answered stiffly. “I think you already have.”
Adrian closed his notebook, hiding the demon words. “I’ve tried to convince her to stay out of it, but she won’t.”
“You haven’t tried very hard,” Simon said, glancing behind Adrian at the bedroom door. “Obviously.”
Adrian thought of their last round of lovemaking, how he hadn’t been able to hold himself back. He shouldn’t have touched her at all, but he’d needed her. Adrian was unfamiliar with need like that. “You’re probably right.” He met the detective’s gaze.
“So what do you want me to do?” Simon asked. “Drag her back to Seattle?”
Adrian shook his head. “No, she’s safer here. But if I can’t make sure she’s not hurt, maybe you can. You can take care of her when I’m gone.”
Amber’s voice came to them. “Or you could let me make my own decisions,” she said as she stepped alone through the open door from the deck. “And not pass me off like a used library book.”
Simon turned hastily, embarrassed and red. “That’s not what I—”
“It’s not you I’m mad at, Detective.” Amber’s golden-brown glare burned through Adrian. “It’s the annoying alpha male next to you.”
Adrian was faintly aware of Ferrin sniggering, switching to snake state on his arm to watch. “I’m new at this, Amber,” Adrian said.
“New at what?”
“Caring about someone.”
Amber remained silently in the doorway, her expression a mystery, and Sabina, unaware of the conversation, had to push her way around and into the house. “Now, what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Amber shook herself and strode to the kitchen. “I’m making more coffee. And tea.”
“I’m coffee-ed out.” Sabina combed fingers through her wind-mussed mane and looked curiously at the closed notebooks. “You got it yet?”
Adrian shook his head. “Septimus has agreed to take a look at them. He knows the old languages better than I do.”
“Being one of the evil undead himself,” Amber said as she filled a pot with water. Her back was ramrod straight, her hair a mess from the wind, the dark curls sticking every which way. Adrian longed to cross the room and smooth each lock of her hair, kissing as he went. “I thought you didn’t want him here.”
“This is too important,” Adrian said. “I’m making an exception.” No way was he letting Amber leave here again with the Old One demon out there. The risk of having a death-magic being like Septimus in his house was lesser than Amber walking out of it.
“This Septimus is a demon?” Sabina asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Vampire,” Amber answered.
“Even worse.”
Sabina in innocence began to talk about vampires, with the natural prejudice of werewolves against the death-magic vamps. Amber answered her, voice bright, her laughter too brittle. Detective Simon had gone back to studying the notebooks, a stain of red clinging to his cheekbones.
Falling in love was alien to Adrian, even though he was capable of love. He loved Isis and the happy-go-lucky Hathor. He’d loved his father, the Egyptian priest, and he loved his brothers, some of whom made it more difficult than others. But Adrian had never let himself fully experience sexual and emotional desire for a woman, because he knew he couldn’t stay with her—as Amber had said, she’d age and die while he went on. Why tear himself apart to have a few hours, or even a few years, of love? There would be no happy ending for him.
Sabina made a vampire joke, and Amber lost her anger long enough to laugh. Her laughter filled the kitchen like silver chimes.
Too late, Adrian thought watching her. Much, much too late to run.
* * *
Septimus arrived soon after the sun went down. He cruised up in a limo with all the windows dark, the vampire emerging flanked by two vamp bodyguards. The guards walked a discreet distance behind him to the door, pausing just out of the circle of the porch light.
“I can’t come in,” Septimus said, sounding annoyed. “Far too much life magic in there, plus your house is warded against beings like me.”
Amber watched Adrian, fully dressed now, as he cocked his head at Septimus, enjoying his discomfort. “You’re always welcome here, Septimus, but just you.”
Septimus made a motion to his bodyguards, who moved back to the limo. He glanced up at the doorframe, as though waiting for something, then Amber felt the pressure of Adrian’s magic recede a little. Septimus nodded once and crossed the threshold. “I’m trusting you completely, Adrian. I figured if you wanted me dead, you’d have killed me already.”
“You’re learning wisdom.” Adrian closed the door and gestured him into the main part of the house. “I need your help, so I won’t stake you right now.”
“Thank you,” Septimus said dryly, then he stopped and stared into the living room, his lips pulling back from his fangs. “Who let the dog in?”
“Soul-sucker,” Sabina growled. The hint of wolf rolled strongly from her. Amber expected her to sprout fur, claws, and teeth any second now.
“You mean blood-sucker,” Septimus answered smoothly. “Soul-suckers are demons.”
“I thought those were lawyers,” Kelly said, walking in. She’d arrived not long ago, wanting to look in on Amber. “I know you, don’t I?” she asked Septimus.
Septimus inclined his head, looking Kelly up and down. “You danced at the club of a colleague. He was sorry to lose you.”
Kelly gave a dainty shrug. “Time to move on.”
“He was quite angry when Adrian told him to leave you alone,” Septimus said. “I killed him, by the way. He stepped out of line, coming after you, and Adrian had to have a conversation with me. I didn’t like that.”