Cat Adams - The Isis Collar

Isaac laughed.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take a look around the place.” John had wandered plenty last time he was here with me, but he was at least trying to be polite and give me some time alone with Isaac.

“Not at all. Make yourself at home. Celia and I have things to discuss.” John wandered off happily. I, on the other hand, was left scrambling. Because, like his wife, what Isaac likes to discuss most are my marriage prospects, or lack thereof. Given a chance, and a gender switch, he’d be the world’s biggest yenta. I needed a change of subject—fast.

“Isaac, do you have protection charms that will hold off demons?”

He leaned in and elbowed me lightly in the ribs, his eyes fixed squarely on Creede’s nicely packaged backside. “Keep that one close and you won’t have to worry about demons. He glows with magic.”

“It’s not like that, Isaac. It’s just business.” Actually it might be like that. Or not. I was never sure with Creede. When we both had time we would sometimes go out. But we almost never had time. He was, if anything, more of a workaholic than me; something I would never have believed possible.

And then there was Bruno.

He seemed to read my mind. “Let me guess. Bruno.” The way he said the name held a world of disapproval.

Both Isaac and Gilda think Bruno did me wrong, and they’re not inclined to forgive him for it. Still, Isaac is wise enough not to push … much.

“Anyway , ” I continued quickly, “I have a problem, and I’m hoping one of those boxes has the solution.”

“Really?” He tilted his head to the side, in a gesture much like a curious bird. “Tell me about it.”

I told him what had happened as simply as I could. During the explanation his expression grew serious, his eyes going nearly black and narrowing with suspicion. “Do you think it’s part of that rift from last December?”

I shrugged. I frankly didn’t know. “Could be. But this felt very different. I don’t know if it’s serious, but I want to be protected as best as possible.”

“Anything that can slip in and out of Federal police barriers is serious, Celia. Let me look around. I have some new things in back that might work.”

“Sure. I’ll check out the jewelry.”

His smile got a little wider and a lot more acquisitive. “Yes. You do that.”

I joined Dawna at the counter. She was examining a delicate gold and garnet cross that I realized might be a nice present for Gran for her birthday.

Creede appeared at my side. “I have something I want you to see, over here.” He put a firm, no-nonsense hand on my elbow and guided me away from Dawna. He wasn’t normally that aggressive, so I went along without protest. It was likely he wanted to talk to me about something work related and didn’t want to make a private issue public.

He led me to the medical magic section, one of my favorites. Spells could cure a host of ills, from simple cuts and scrapes to broken bones. I scanned the tiny identifying labels under each carefully packed box. “See anything here for demon possession?”

He pulled in a sharp breath. “Is that what’s wrong with you?” A small growl followed the words and his voice lowered to a whisper. “Jesus, Celia, why didn’t you call me and why are you just walking around the streets? C’mon, we need to get you to a priest.”

His urgency startled me and I pulled back from his frantic grasp on my wrist. “Creede, slow down. I’m fine. I haven’t been possessed—at least not in the past few months. Why are you so jumpy today?”

He let go of my arm and leaned back to stare at me quizzically like I’d grown a second head. His arms crossed over his chest and his chin lowered. “I got a call from Dr. Jean-Baptiste about a particular spell. I decided to check you out myself without you expecting me.”

He got a call? So he was one of the “experts” the doctor mentioned? Jeez, I could have done that myself without dinging my credit card for a specialist.

Creede continued to talk. “The last time I saw you limp like that, you had a bleeding leg full of glass shards. You’re squinting at the slightest hint of bright light. Your magical aura is all wrong. Something is definitely wrong with you. Talk to me, Celia, or you might find yourself trying out that body-binding charm I made for you while I take you to a hospital.”

Okay, that was several levels above disturbing. “My magical … what ? I don’t have an aura.”

He sighed. “Yes, you do. You’re supernatural. Vampires have auras and so do sirens. You have a very distinct pattern that’s not like anyone else’s, and it’s not the same today as it was the last time we had dinner together. There’s something chewing at it. The colors around your head are scrambled and weird looking. Demonic possession would definitely do that.”

Could a demonic entity have been housed inside the bomb casing? That would certainly have been dangerous enough to warrant a metal case. Crap. “That honestly never occurred to me. But I’ve had a headache I can’t shake since the problem at the school. And my leg hurts every time I put weight on it.”

That made his frown deepen and he looked around the room before pulling me to an ornate chair outside the dressing rooms in the back of the store—the store’s grudging acknowledgment that not everybody likes to shop. “You’ve had the problem that long? He didn’t give me your name for confidentiality reasons, or details other than asking about a spell affecting your memory.” He snorted in amusement. “But seriously … how many half-vampire women with siren blood are there in town?” He stared at me for a long moment. “Sit.”

I did. He straddled my legs so that he could look down on the top of my head. He began to whisper a spell that was too soft to make out and I felt power flow from his fingers, his very skin. It was like lowering myself into a heated pool. The sensation of pulsing magic made me warm and drowsy and very relaxed.

That is, until his hands hovered over my hair. The gesture was gentle, so soft it bordered on tickling. But my skin instantly began to tingle and the pleasurable shivers that ran down my spine were so hard that I had to curl my toes to stop myself from shuddering visibly.

But Creede wasn’t trying to tease me. He was utterly serious as he traced his fingers over my hair without moving a single strand. A golden glow filled my vision until the room disappeared from view. My brain felt fuzzy and I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything other than the buzz of white noise in my ears. My insides were liquid with feelings I shouldn’t be having in the middle of a weapons store. When he reached my shoulders he stopped and I flicked my gaze up to see his furrowed brow. The flames in his eyes grew until they were the eyes of a cat caught by a flashlight after dark. “There’s a spell at work here. No question. It’s not demonic, but it’s amazingly complex. I understand why Dr. Jean-Baptiste couldn’t unwind it.”

Crap. “What kind of spell?” I could hear the sudden fear in my voice and my heartbeat sped up to match my quickened breath.

Creede knelt in front of me, his hands still on my shoulders. His gaze locked with mine and the compassion in his eyes made me believe the words he spoke next. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. I promise.” His fingers squeezed just a bit. “All right?”

A promise from him could be put in the bank. “Okay. Thanks. What should I do until then?”

The corner of his mouth turned up a fraction and his hands moved until they were on either side of my face. “Quit trying to be superwoman. Ask for help when you’re hurt. Remember that if you’re hurt, it’s serious.”