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    Siren Song

    Page 8
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      That brought me up short. ―There‘s only one red piece?‖

      She nodded. Well, now, wasn‘t that interesting? I distinctly remembered handing Ren the

      red piece. Of course she‘d hustled off right after that. It might just have been an accident. Or

      not.

      ―You‘re sure? I mean, not too many people seem to know about these Wadjeti things.‖

      Dottie smiled sweetly, but her voice had that same scolding tone you get when you put your

      elbows on the table at Grandma‘s house. ―I am a clairvoyant, dear. It‘s a tool for divination.

      Karl was planning on giving me a set for my next birthday. He was hoping it‘d be easier for

      me to use than my bowl. I found it and the card, when I was cleaning out his house after his

      funeral. It came with an instruction book. I read most of it in one sitting. It isn‘t hard to learn. I

      can bring the instructions in tomorrow if you‘d like.‖ She looked at me slyly. ―Should I

      presume I‘ll be here tomorrow? Or was what you said to Dawna just to make her feel better?‖

      ―You‘d actually be willing?‖

      ―Of course. And it will give me a chance to see Minnie regularly.‖ She smiled sweetly.

      ―Cool.‖ I was relieved. The temp situation was solved and, I hoped, the cat issues as well. ―I

      won‘t be here tomorrow, so just leave a copy for me here at the front desk.‖ I gave her my best

      smile and grabbed the Wadjeti box. ―Now I have got to get upstairs, or I‘m not going to get

      anything done. Are you sure you‘ll be all right?‖

      ―I‘ll be fine.‖ She winked at me. ―We can talk about my salary later.‖

      I just bet we would.

      It was a relief to finally get out of the lobby and up the stairs. My office takes up a large

      portion of the third floor. There is no elevator, only a steep staircase. But if Dottie was going to

      work here . . . was there somewhere to put an elevator? Or maybe one of those electric stair lift

      things? It was a historic building. We technically didn‘t need to be ADA compliant. But still—

      As I rounded the second-floor landing, passing the stained-glass window, I heard Creede

      chatting amiably with Bubba about boats and deep-sea fishing. Creede was admiring one of the

      photos of Bubba‘s boat displayed on the office wall. Technically, it‘s a good-sized yacht, and

      he bought it at a government auction. But he calls it a boat, because ―I ain‘t that fancy.‖

      As I came closer, the subject switched back to Creede‘s situation and what he was doing

      here. ―I woulda thought you‘d have had a binding oath set up to keep him from backstabbing

      you,‖ Bubba chided.

      Creede‘s small chuckle showed his dark side. There was evil under that laugh, mixed with

      the anger. ―Oh, we did. He just decided that there‘d be enough money left after the medical

      bills to make it worth it.‖

      I shook my head. To my mind, Miller was stupid. That‘s all there was to it. Yeah, he‘d get

      the money, but he‘d made a bad enemy. Still, greed can make most people stupid.

      ―So, you gonna rent this place?‖ Bubba asked.

      ―I think so. Do you know if Celia had to get the floor reinforced to hold her safe? I‘m going

      to want to put one in, too. Hers is just on the other side of this wall, right?‖

      ―Yep. But you‘ll have to ask her, or the safe guy. He‘s due in a half hour. Comes in same

      time every week to reinforce the spells. If Celia‘s not here, Dawna lets him in.‖

      A raw, jagged edge of paranoia rushed through me and I suddenly knew why Creede‘s being

      here had me on edge. Bubba was being too friendly. Creede now knew the layout of the office,

      knew how often my wards were reinforced and all the tenant names. Future tenant, or future

      burglar? I tried to think of some way to limit the damage in case this was all a very simple and

      therefore very elaborate trap. So obvious it was overlooked. I decided to make a blunt, direct

      accusation and see how he responded.

      I hurried to the doorway into Bubba‘s office, just as he was saying, ―We‘re a pretty boring

      bunch here. Same schedule every week.‖

      ―But, of course, that schedule will be changing . . . the moment you‘re out of earshot.‖ They

      both turned and simultaneously gave me an odd look. My answering expression showed a lot

      of fang and as much distrust as was clawing at the pit of my stomach. ―Tell me something,

      John.‖

      I paused long enough that he frowned. It was a better look on him. He crossed his arms over

      his chest and said, ―Maybe.‖

      My nod was automatic. ―Perfect. That‘s just the mind-set I‘d like you in for this. Let‘s

      reverse our positions for a moment. You‘re a sole proprietor, in business for a handful of years,

      comfortable but not wildly successful. Clients are attracted to you because you have a slew of

      magical gadgets and the skill to use them. With me so far?‖

      He nodded but didn‘t comment.

      ―In walks me,‖ I went on. ―I‘m a partner in a multinational company that is so far above

      your level I can‘t be considered competition. I only personally guard the most exclusive

      people, the richest of the rich.‖

      His brow was furrowing even further, if that was possible. At this point, Bubba had also

      started to frown and his eyes kept flicking to Creede to watch his reaction.

      ―I made a deliberate point of coming to your office in the company of a client—a client who

      has a personal grudge against you. Yet now . . .‖ I held up my hands as though a revival

      preacher in front of the faithful. ―I appear before you with the—you have to admit—slightly

      outlandish claim that I‘ve broken up with my partner of more than a decade and want to

      partner with you. I inspect a vacant office which just happens to be right next door to where

      you keep your gadgets. I learn the schedule from the other tenants.‖ I looked at him and

      smiled, showing as much fang as I could. ―Tell me, John. What would you do, right this

      minute?‖

      His voice came out in a rumble that vibrated his arms on his chest while Bubba started

      muttering self-berations at himself. ―Are you accusing me of spying?‖

      I shrugged, unwilling to react to his growl. ―Spying, infiltrating . . . hell, maybe hexing. Or,

      you‘re completely innocent and I‘m just paranoid. I ask again, what would you, a professional

      security consultant, do in my place?‖

      He glared. I just raised my brows. I could feel magic now, and while he wasn‘t casting

      anything, his emotional turmoil was causing energy to whip through the room like errant

      mosquitoes. You wanted to slap at them, but they were too quick and too small to be seen.

      Then the wheels started clicking. I watched as his eyes lowered to a place somewhere near but

      not quite on the floor. After a long moment, he let out a sound like a snort; his chest rose with

      the force of it. When he met my eyes again, he was actually blushing. ―I‘d put you in a full-

      body binding until I could call around to check out your story.‖ He shrugged uncomfortably.

      ―Either that, or I‘d kick your butt to the curb and then‖—now a smile appeared—―call my safe

      company and have all the combinations changed and add a few special hexes for anyone

      cutting through the adjoining wall or ceiling.‖

      Actually, I hadn‘t thought of that and gave the idea the credit it deserved. ―Good idea. I‘ll

      mention that. I‘d only
    planned on waiting until you left, but then, I‘m not a mage. I like the

      full-body binding, though. Do those come in a charm disk?‖

      He pursed his lips. ―Dunno. I‘d imagine I could come up with something.‖ He grinned

      again. ―But it‘ll cost you.‖

      The muscles in my stomach were loosening a little as I let out a small chuckle. Either he was

      a consummate actor or his story was true. I was going with my gut. I hoped I wouldn‘t regret

      it. Bubba still looked embarrassed at being so effusive, but he was easing down a little, too.

      ―Just make sure you‘re not the first person I‘ll have to use it on.‖ Creede didn‘t respond, but

      his eyes were twinkling. ―Obviously, I‘ll need to talk to the others and will have to find out

      from Dawna where she keeps the sample leases with the terms and house rules.‖

      ―Dawna‘s your secretary? I think I met her at the wake.‖

      Bubba said, ―Yeah, that‘s her,‖ and shook his head. ―Poor kid.‖ Dawna wasn‘t exactly a kid,

      but his sympathy was well placed. He paused for a moment, then grinned and said, ―My vote is

      to let him take it.‖

      I gave Bubba a return smile. ―I could use the rent to pay for Dottie‘s salary and Dawna‘s

      raise.‖

      ―You‘re givin‘ her a raise?‖ Bubba was obviously shocked. He‘d probably expected me to

      vote for firing her for not showing up.

      ―Guilt money,‖ I admitted. ―The bat that got her was after me. I‘d do more if she‘d let me,

      but she‘s too damned proud.‖

      Bubba nodded. He was a tenant in the building before any of the rest of us ever got here.

      He‘d known Dawna a long time.

      ―That‘s nice. ‖ Creede sounded shocked and gave me a startled look.

      ―I can be nice,‖ I answered, more than a little insulted by the implication.

      He raised both hands in surrender and started to apologize. ―Sorry. I‘d just heard you were a

      stone-cold bitch. It‘s sort of one of the reasons I considered you for the business. I need

      someone tough.‖

      I could just bet where he‘d heard that from: Vicki‘s mom. Damn it.

      ―Celia‘s all right,‖ Bubba rose to my defense. ―She‘s only a bitch if you really deserve it.

      Act decent and she‘s cool. But don‘t make the mistake of thinking she can‘t be a bitch.‖

      ―I‘ll keep that in mind.‖

      ―Do.‖ The growl that escaped me along with the word surprised us all. Apparently, Creede

      had dug deeper than I realized. I‘d get over my annoyance faster if I wasn‘t in the same room

      with him, so I turned my back on them and walked to my office.

      I unlocked the door and stepped over the threshold, feeling the buzz of power. Last time

      Bruno visited, he‘d put a new set of wards on the doorway. He hadn‘t bothered to ask if I

      wanted them. He‘s sweet like that—he knows I‘m always in favor of more security. But it was

      a damned good thing the vampire bite hadn‘t affected me to the point where I set them off.

      That would be so embarrassing. And painful. Judging from the amount of buzz I was getting,

      very painful.

      I set the box with the Wadjeti on the desk and opened the safe. I got less of a buzz from it

      than from the doorway. Not because these wards were less powerful but because the safe had

      been made for me and was keyed to my DNA. I‘d had to reset it postattack, but now that it

      ―knew‖ the vampire and siren me, it was good. I was just hoping it wouldn‘t weird out again

      eight months from now. The safe thinks I‘m pregnant. That‘s how we got it to accept my

      altered DNA.

      I set the Wadjeti onto the shelf next to the box with my knives. They both started to glow,

      each reacting to the magic of the other. A soft, gentle hum filled the metal enclosure. I stared

      in pleased awe at the beautiful rainbow of colors—my own private aurora borealis that pulsed

      and danced inches away. How pretty.

      That emotion lasted for about a second and a half before it occurred to me to shut the safe

      door in case I was in for more than a light show. Eek. I slammed it closed with a little more

      force than was probably necessary, just as I heard the gentle tap of knuckles against my office

      door.

      ―Yes?‖

      ―It‘s John Creede. Can I come in?‖

      I didn‘t really want him to. But if he was going to be a tenant and on the same floor, I should

      probably be nice. ―Sure.‖

      He opened the door, then reached out a hand to touch the invisible line of power with a

      smile. He glanced over at me. ―DeLuca?‖

      I nodded.

      ―He does damned fine work.‖ Creede‘s expression darkened to a scowl as he visibly

      ―swam‖ through the ward on the door. When he emerged inside the room, he rubbed his arms

      like they stung. ―It just kills me that I may have recruited him to work for George.‖

      ―He hasn‘t said yes yet, has he?‖ I honestly didn‘t know, since I hadn‘t talked to him.

      Creede sighed, as if I were being a fool and he was losing patience with it. ―He might not

      have signed the contract yet, but you haven‘t seen the package we negotiated. For some reason

      he really wants to move to this coast, but he‘s a tough one to please.‖ Creede said it drily and

      raised one brow. We both knew why Bruno wanted to move. I couldn‘t wait until he got out

      here and wished he‘d call me back. I was going to be annoyed if he didn‘t get my message

      until after I was locked up again.

      I wanted to hear his voice and definitely wanted to tell him about this situation. It was going

      to be damned awkward if I wound up partnering with Creede and Bruno was working for the

      competition. Because Bruno is the best. And the clients would know it.

      ―So, what just happened?‖ Creede asked. ―I felt . . . something in this room, big enough to

      cause my hairs to stand up even through the wards.‖

      ―I put something new in the safe and the things I had in there already reacted,‖ I explained.

      ―Reacted how?‖ He didn‘t bother to hide his concern. I couldn‘t blame him. Magic is

      dangerous and this was powerful stuff. I wasn‘t nearly as worried now that the safe door was

      closed and I had thick steel protecting me.

      I shrugged, not to make light of it, but I was confident about the safe. Bruno did the original

      work, but I had a company that came in on a regular basis to recharge and layer the

      protections. ―Put on a light show. Shot rainbows around the room, hummed a little bit.‖

      ―Did the things vibrate? Was the light red, green, what? Did the objects get hot or cold?‖

      Creede fired the questions at me like bullets.

      ―No vibration, no temperature change, and literally rainbows,‖ I answered, ―just colored

      light. It was really pretty. But I decided I‘d better shut the safe door just in case.‖

      ―Rainbows.‖ He shook his head and scowled. ― And they reacted to each other. What the hell

      do you have in there and how did you get it?‖

      I liked Creede well enough. But I like my secrets, too. The knives Bruno made for me are

      valuable enough that there are people who would literally kill to get their hands on them. Even

      people I‘ve known for years have no idea they exist. And if what El Jefe said about the

      Wadjeti was true, it was basically priceless. So I just smiled sweetly and said, ―Gifts from

      friends.‖

      ―You must have some powerful friends.‖


      I thought about the demon that almost killed me and the woman who set him onto me. He

      was banished, but you can‘t kill a greater demon, and she got away. I was pretty sure Kevin

      was hunting her, but she was definitely going to be a hard target. Was that what Ivan had been

      contacting me about? I wished I knew. ―I‘m just hoping they‘re as powerful as my enemies.‖

      Creede didn‘t have an answer to that, so he changed the subject. ―Look, I‘d like to apologize

      to you for what I said earlier.‖

      ―It‘s all right.‖ Actually, it wasn‘t. It still stung. I tell myself I don‘t care what people think,

      that the tough-girl image is part and parcel of the whole bodyguard thing. But it‘s more a suit,

      a persona I put on in the morning. It‘s not the real me and I do care. It‘s stupid, I know. But I

      do. And I‘m not a bitch. I know plenty of them and they don‘t want me in the club.

      He shook his head firmly, which did more to make amends than the apology. ―No. It‘s not

      all right. I know better than to believe gossip. But if it helps any, I‘m about to get my share of

      karmic repentance in the press.‖ He gave me a chagrined look. He was right, too. The tabloids

      were going to have him for lunch once they learned of the split. The spin-off partner can easily

      become a public pariah in any business. Magic just makes it worse. It wouldn‘t be hard for the

      press to find present and former M&C employees who would demonize John, off and on the

      record. After a second of me not assuring him it‘d all be okay, he sighed. ―Let me make it up

      to you by buying you a meal. We can talk business, so your boyfriend won‘t get jealous.‖

      ―Bruno doesn‘t get jealous.‖

      ―Bullshit.‖ Creede‘s grin lit up his face and he went from good-looking to handsome in an

      instant. ―You forget, I saw you together at the wake.‖ He laughed. ―And I‘ve met ‗Uncle Sal.‘

      ‖ He made little quotes in the air when he said the name. ―Trust me, I‘ll behave. There are

      some people that even magic won‘t save you from.‖

      I believed that. You did not cross Uncle Sal. But I kept my tone casual. ―I‘ll have to take a

      rain check, I‘m afraid. I have an appointment downtown in a few minutes. I hadn‘t planned on

      staying here this long as it is. But yeah, I‘ll want to sit down and have a heart-to-heart talk with

     


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