Diana Rowland - Sins of the Demon

Now he winced. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I just wanted to see if it could be changed to seatbelt or—” He let out a choked cry and staggered to his feet, staring down in shock at the coffee covering his front.

I stared in shock as well, then yanked my eyes to my right hand—which was holding the empty coffee cup. I barely even remembered throwing the coffee at him, but I knew I had. I’d thought about it, then done it. No hesitation.

“Oh my god, Roman. I…I…” I dropped the empty cup on my desk and yanked open my top drawer to grab out some tired napkins from a long ago fast food meal. I thrust them toward him, and he eyed them almost uncertainly before taking them and making a futile attempt to blot up the coffee.

“I guess that’s a ‘no’ then” he said, mouth twisting in a grimace.

“Shit, Roman, I swear I—”

“Everything cool here?”

I jerked my head around to see Cory, my sergeant, standing in the doorway of the office, frowning beneath his mustache, brown eyes taking in the details.

I opened my mouth but suddenly had no idea what to say. I threw my coffee on him because he asked me how to get a ticket reduced. So fucking what? That kind of stuff happened all the time.

“I’m a klutz,” Roman spoke up while I was still floundering. He turned the wry smile onto Sarge as he wiped his hands on the soggy napkins. “I was trying to give Kara her coffee, and we bumped hands.” He laughed, an easy sound. “I was the loser.”

Damn, but he was good. I’d have totally believed him if I hadn’t actually been here when it happened and done the actual spilling. Throwing, rather.

Sarge’s face cleared, and he gave a brisk nod. “Gotcha. There’s a restroom down the hall if you need to clean up.” He shifted his attention to me. “I’ll see if I can get a trustee in here to mop.”

I just gave him a nod. I wasn’t sure if it was safe for me to speak yet.

Roman simply gave a self-effacing chuckle. “I think I got the worst of it. I’m going to have to head home to change anyway.” He shot me a perfect imitation of an apologetic look. Or maybe he really was apologetic? “I’m really sorry about getting coffee everywhere, Kara.”

I gulped. “Um. ’S okay,” I managed. Why the fuck had I thrown my coffee at him?

He caught my eye, and for the first time I saw what I thought might be true emotion—a confusing split-second flash of regret, anger, affection, and relief. Then he was out the door while I stood with my hands clenched to keep them from shaking.

Sarge watched him go, and as soon as the outer door closed he turned to me, eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

I shook my head as if that could get my thoughts back in order. “I threw my coffee at him.”

He made a hmmf ing sound. “No shit. I’m not any sort of blood-spatter analyst, but—” His gaze raked the coffee on the wall. “—even I can tell that was more than a ‘bump’ of hands. Now tell me whether I need to go after him and defend the virtue of one of my sisters in blue.”

A snort of laughter escaped me at the thought of anyone defending what little virtue I might still have. I unclenched my hands, sighed. “He didn’t do anything like that. All he did was ask if I could get a ticket reduced.” I grimaced and rubbed at my eyes. “I have no idea why that set me off.”

He pursed his lips. “You cool now?”

I nodded vigorously. “Like ice.” Spazzing out on the inside, but I could fake cool.

Maybe I couldn’t, because Sarge simply snorted and turned away. “I’ll go get that trustee.”

I wanted to sink into my chair and wallow in a mild freakout, but I couldn’t afford that sort of luxury right now. I needed to go see my aunt.

I waited long enough for the trustee to wipe down the wall and mop up the worst of the coffee, then I shooed him out, locked my door and headed down the hall to my sergeant’s office.

“By the way,” I said as I stood in his doorway, “both the vics from yesterday had mega-strokes.”

He lifted his head and leveled a frown at me. “Does Doc have a reason why yet?”

I shook my head. “I need to go check out a few things, if that’s okay.”

“Do what you need to do,” he said, then dropped his attention back to the paperwork on his desk. I masked a grin as I left. Cory knew that a number of my cases had some supernatural aspects, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Or openly acknowledge it. Or anything else that gave him the screaming willies. Poor guy. He tried, though. I had to give him that.

I stepped out of the back door and then let out a shocked cry as someone slammed me up against the outside wall. Or rather, I would have let out a shocked cry if I had any air left in my lungs.

Eilahn glared at me as she pinned me against the wall with her forearm. With her other she fished the cuff out of my coat pocket and held it up in front of me.

“Don’t forget,” she said in a mild tone that belied the fury in her narrowed eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” I managed to rasp. “Sorry…?” I offered her as groveling a smile as I could manage.

She hmmf ed and released me but only to grab my wrist and snap the cuff around it. “Don’t forget,” she repeated.

I took a shuddering breath as the faint queasiness returned. “I won’t. I’m really sorry.”

Her expression softened, and she laid a hand on my shoulder. “I am not wroth with you. But this is a habit that you must form.”

“I will.” I took a deep breath in a futile attempt to settle my stomach. “Thanks for watching out for me.”

She smiled. “It is my pleasure.” And with that she turned and walked off. I watched her until she turned the corner, then I continued on to my car. If I’d ever had any doubts about her ability to be at my side in a split second, they were gone now. Not that I’d ever had any, to be honest.

My demon bodyguard kicked ass. Unfortunately, every now and then that ass was mine.

I gave the door of Tessa’s house a cursory knock, then entered, a split second ahead of her shout of “Kitchen!” At least that much was normal—or as normal as anything to do with my aunt could be. I paused, slipped the cuff off, and stuffed it into my bag before shedding my coat. My aunt’s pristine white, century-old house was warded to the teeth; I had no fear of being attacked or summoned while in here. Situated in a historical district on the lakefront, Tessa kept her house in exquisite condition, with carefully maintained landscaping, eggshell-blue gingerbread molding along the porch, and a set of white rockers that, unlike mine, had actually been taken out of the boxes they came in and assembled. The inside of her house was just as lovely—brilliant hardwood floors, crown molding, and flowered wallpaper in a subtle pattern of rose and gold. Not that she ever let anyone inside to see it whom she didn’t trust completely. Even the “Welcome” sign on the door was a standing joke, at least in my opinion. The aversions were such that only someone who was welcome—or seriously determined—would ever get close enough to the house to see it.

Continuing on down the hallway, I entered the kitchen to see Tessa and Carl sitting at the table playing some sort of card game. Staying true to her incredibly eclectic and weird sense of style, she had on a thigh-length black sweater dress embroidered in gold spider webs, with gold lamé leggings underneath that and knee-high boots—with what had to be five-inch heels. Her wild, kinky blond hair was pulled back from her face by a white scarf. As usual, it totally worked on her. It helped that she was a tiny little thing without a spare ounce of fat on her body.