S. Harper - Cursed

“By intimacy you mean . . . ?”

“Physical intimacy.”

“Zack isn’t stupid, and he’s not oblivious to magic. He’ll notice the gaps.”

“There won’t be any gaps. That’s part of the elegance of this particular spell. His own imagination will create alternative, plausible, and most important, safe scenarios. As far as he’ll be concerned, you’ll be platonic partners. That’s it. He’ll forget the night you shared. The threat will be gone.”

I look up at her through eyes glazed with tears. “There was more than one night.”

“What?”

“In Charleston. We slept together. After the case was over.”

Liz’s face pales. “Was that what you meant when you said you more than liked him? Emma, are you crazy? Did you know he was coming to San Diego? That he was going to be working with you?”

I shake my head, grab Liz’s hand for emphasis. “No. I had no idea. Do you think I’d go along with it if I had? This scares me, Liz. Zack scares me. But—” I lower my eyes, unable, unwilling to let Liz see what I know is reflected there. “I’m not sure I want him to forget.”

“You do, Emma. Of course you do. The two of you crossed a line. The kind you can’t easily take back. Hearts are involved. It’s the only way.”

“What if he doesn’t give up?”

“Listen, change the dynamic. Fool around all you want with Zack. Fuck him senseless every night. You’ve had hundreds of lovers. You just need to make sure he understands it’s nothing serious. That it can’t be anything serious. Keep your feelings hidden. The greatest sex he’s ever had completely without strings? No man on earth would turn down a relationship like that. And with the potion, he’ll accept it. He won’t remember anything different. Just don’t let him see the real you. Never let him see the real you. Do you understand?”

Like a puppet, my head bobs as if pulled by string. Liz is squeezing my hand. The glamour, the dampening spell, those were just to warm up for this particular moment. This is the one I’ve been paying Liz for all these years. She’s doing her job. But taking care of me has become more than a job. That’s why I see the compassion in her eyes.

But all I feel is numb.

I have to cut Zack loose and I don’t feel anything.

• • •

Before heading to the office, I do what I should have done before going to Liz’s. I stop at home to change. The detour takes me all of fifteen minutes. Then I’m on my way up the 163, the envelope she gave me weighing on my mind, a psychological brick in my handbag. Will I have the courage to use it?

I know Liz is right. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Give Zack the powder this morning, before he can do anything to make me change my mind.

Like say hello.

I’m heading for the elevator when I see her. Sarah. Standing off to one side in the lobby. Today she’s dressed more casually, in blue jeans, a white Georgette silk blouse, black boots, and a red brocade jacket. I resist the urge to ask her what she did with Captain Jack and the rest of the crew of the Black Pearl .

Partly because she’s bigger than me, partly because she looks pissed, really pissed, and the lobby is empty—I shift my bag to free the hand closer to my gun. Perhaps I’m being paranoid, but I feel better knowing it’s readily accessible.

Sarah sees the move, understands the implication. She holds up her hands. “I’m not here to hurt you,” she says.

We meet a few feet from the elevators. “Why are you here?”

“Not because I want to be, that’s for damn sure.” The woman drops her hands to her side. She looks younger than her thirty years, except for her eyes. They harbor the shadow of sadness, of disappointment, of fear. “I’m here because I need your help.”

“With Zack?”

She nods. “He likes you. I can tell.”

“We’re partners.”

She tilts her head to the side. “It’s more.”

“He told you that?”

“He didn’t have to. I know Zack, maybe better than anyone.”

“You’re pack mates?”

She looks surprised. “You know our other nature?”

“Yes.”

Sarah releases a breath. “Then you know he doesn’t belong here. He belongs with us, his own kind, where he can be free.”

“Free?”

“Free to run under the moon. To live without restrictions. To be penned up in a cage three nights every month, alone. It’s . . . unacceptable.”

“Unacceptable to whom? Zack has chosen a safe way to ride out the changeling times.”

Sarah pauses now. She takes a step closer. “Who are you to presume to know what’s safe for us?”

“I’m Zack’s partner”

“I’m his lover.”

Someone didn’t get the “ex” memo. “I heard it was over.”

Sarah’s posture becomes rigid. I get the distinct impression that if we weren’t in the lobby of an FBI field office, her hands would be around my throat. There had been softness in her eyes from sadness, fear. Now brittle determination makes them spark with anger. She doesn’t hold on to it long. In a flash it’s gone, replaced by smug indignation and a shiny new strategy.

“It didn’t feel over when we slept together the other night.”

They spent the night together? I don’t believe it. Or, if they did, I’d bet they didn’t have sex.

“Whatever.” I turn to push the call button for the elevator.

She grabs my arm in a viselike grip. “Feign disinterest all you want. I see the way you look at him.”

I slowly look down at her hand on my arm, then back up at Sarah. “You need to be talking to Zack. Not me.”

Her grip on my arm tightens. “You’re playing a dangerous game. You should know here and now, it’s one you won’t win. I cannot, will not, leave without Zack.”

Regret morphs to anger. I don’t take kindly to threats. Happily-ever-after may not be in the cards for Zack and me. But I’m dead certain he isn’t going to find it with Sarah, either. If he could have, he wouldn’t have pushed her away, wouldn’t have left her behind. I shake my arm free. “Whether Zack stays or goes is up to him.”

A flash of the wolf turns Sarah’s eyes blue. “Perhaps the decision will be made for him,” she growls. “Perhaps the reason for his staying will suddenly be taken from him.”

I may not have a werewolf’s strength, but my gun at this range would blow her clear across the hall. Superfast healing isn’t in my repertoire, but I’m secure in the fact that no matter what happens, I will eventually heal. Demeter would never finish me off when there was pain to be dealt. I’ve been around a long time. And I’ve experienced my fair share—been up against stronger, faster, and smarter than Sarah. I’d match my cunning and determination against this werewolf’s any day.

“You’re threatening the wrong girl. I know what you are and I know how to stop you. You think you can take me out? Give it your best shot,” I growl right back at her.

The rumble of the elevator behind us signals its approach. Half a dozen people spill out, including Kirk, the boss’ admin assistant. He steps between Sarah and me, momentarily blocking her from my sight.

“Hey, Monroe, the lottery’s up to thirty million. You want in? I’m going to buy tickets. You can’t win if you don’t play,” he points out for the hundredth time.

I reach into the pocket of my slacks, pull out a buck, and hand it to him, waving him away. The rest of the crowd has already dispersed. When he steps to the side, I no longer see Sarah.

“There was a woman here,” I say. “Did you see where she went?”

“Sorry,” he says. “No.”

I release an angry sigh. Sarah is gone.