I take his hand, make him turn back toward me. Please? I want to know.
He takes another pull from his glass, stares down into it. Finally he relents.
They knew what I was. I was told they represented a special division of the U.S. military. Only it turned out they were more of a subcontracted splinter group. They said they were building a special team to carry out top secret military operations and they wanted me on board.
Flattering.
It was to a seventeen-year-old. The opportunity to join an army of supernatural creatures who would fight against tyranny and protect the American way was too compelling to pass up. He looks up. I completely let go of the idea of college. Why sit in a classroom when I could be part of a real-life Justice League? I volunteered. For a kid with an IQ of one sixty, I was incredibly stupid and naive.
I reach out and touch his cheek. Or incredibly brave and courageous.
Ive never spoken of it before.
Why me? Why now?
Because youre unrelenting and work on me like kryptonite?
I frown, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt so that I dont have to look him in the eye.
I know you could find out anything you want about me at any time, he says at last, lifting my chin. But you let me tell the story myself. Is there anything else you want to know?
A dozen questions flit through my mind before I settle on one.
What is it that finally made you break away, leave that life?
He hesitates. Seconds pass. Just when I reach the conclusion hes not going to tell me, he takes a deep breath and begins.
I was sent on a mission. It was supposed to be quick, simple. Everything had been carefully orchestrated. The research, as always, was thorough. The target was a threat to national security. Hed reportedly been responsible for the loss of many lives, could be responsible for the deaths of a great deal more. He was a monster who needed to be eliminated. At least thats what I was told, what I believed.
You were sent to kill him.
Zack nods. I had a custom-made long-range rifle and a clear view. The target was supposed to be alone. No one else was visible when I lined up the shot and took aim. Im good at what I do. What I did. The shot was clean. He swallows. But the target wasnt alone. She must have entered the room right after I pulled the trigger. I watched, through my scope. It was surreal, a macabre silent horror film unfolding before me. One of my own making. One that afterward I couldnt get out of my head. I still cant. She threw herself on top of the target. Crying. Screaming. Soaked in his blood. She was four. He was her father. And . . . as it turned out . . . I was the monster.
I place my hand on Zacks shoulder and give it a squeeze. You are not a monster. You killed one man to save hundreds.
He smiles ruefully. It was a lie, Emma. He turns to look at me, his eyes shadowed with regret. The dossier was a complete fabrication. It was about money and power. It wasnt about saving lives. And it wasnt just about killing one man. It wasnt just one man. There were a lot of men over the years. Every one of them someones son, or husband, or father. I started to dig. The more I did, the more lies I uncovered. I wasnt doing something noble, something to be proud of. I was nothing more than a very highly trained, highly paid assassin. No matter what I do, how many I manage to save, Ill never be able to give back the lives I took.
Thats why working these cases has become so important to you. You cant return that little girls father to her, not ever. But you can find and return others.
And I do, just like you. In so many ways, were coming from the same place, you and I. Were seeking the same kind of salvation. Thats why we make such a great team.
Zack is right. We do make a great team. We are on the same path, in search of the same thing. The people you worked for, they just let you walk away?
Hardly. Suffice it to say I fixed things so that I pose more of a threat to them dead than alive. Were at a stalemate. Ive accepted I cant take them down. For now. Theyve accepted my decision. For now.
Zack holds out his hand.
I take it.
No more talk about sad things. Not tonight.
I let him lead me down a short hall to a door on the left. He pushes it open, giving me a clear view of the master suite.
On the far side of the room is a set of double French doors. They open onto a balcony, offering a breathtaking view of the moonlit beach and ocean beyond. Cream doupioni curtains hang over the doors, the rich silk fabric flutters in the evening breeze. Theres a fire in the fireplace to the left of the bed. It fills the room with warmth, a contrast to the cool night air drifting in from outside. On the mantel is an array of candles, which hes also taken the time to light. There are more on the dark walnut nightstands, which flank the enormous king-sized sleigh bed. The lamps on the either side of the bed remain off. They arent needed. A natural glow fills the room. The flames from the fire and candles flicker and dance, casting shadows on the wall.
I hesitate. The first time we were together was all flying clothes, insistent hands, and hot openmouthed kisses. I guess after my admission and in light of his nature, I was expecting the same. For tonight, at least, hes got that aggression thoroughly locked away.
Youre in control here.
Honestly, I think Id be more comfortable if we were both out of control. I take a sip of my wine. There is the aroma of sea salt and burned wood in the air, as well as a mix of vanilla and orange, cinnamon and ginger. You always keep scented candles around? I ask over the rim of my glass.
I figure youve got to give a girl something if youre going to hold back on the foreplay.
I walk over to the bed and run my hand over the duvet cover. Like those downstairs, the fabrics are rich and lush. Earth tones dominatetaupe walls, cream drapes, dark brown bedding with gold accents. I move to the fireplace. Theres a large mirror above it. I can see Zacks reflection as he crosses the room to join me.
He places his hands gently on my shoulders. Listen, its okay if youve changed your mind. You were right this morning when you said there are a lot of reasons not to do this.
My gaze lifts to meet his in the mirror. And yet here we are.
He reaches out with one hand, brushing his fingertips down the side of my neck before tracing a painstakingly slow path along the edge of my gowns necklinestarting in front of my shoulder and ending at the zipper. Youre sure you want this?
Ive had sex with plenty of men during my lifetime. A good many of those men have been quite imaginative. Some have even been memorable. With a few, it still hurts to think about. Ive been here many times before. So what is it about this man that makes me ache so?
Do I want him? I shiver. I do. In the worst possible way.
Zack encircles my waist with his left arm, then dips his head, nose at the nape of my neck. He inhales deeply, breathing me in just like before, only then it was with more subtlety. This time it feels decidedly primitive, possessive.
My own breath catches.
I feel a slight tug as he pulls down my zipper. The fabric parts, exposing my back. I close my eyes and wait. Then I feel Zacks fingers skimming down over my skin, tracing the edges of my ink. The pair of wings covers most of my back. Its not a tattoo I chose. Like so much else, Demeter chose it for me. I was marked the day I was stripped of my real wings, the day I was sent here. Because I dont see them every day, you might think Id forget. I never forget.
What you told me in Charleston about this tat, it was a lie, wasnt it? Zack murmurs, almost to himself.
I turn to face him, letting the gown fall and stepping out of it. Were not speaking of sad things tonight.
I can see he wants to know more, but Im standing before him in four-inch pumps, breasts bare, nipples erect, wearing only black silk panties and stockings. The glamour affects my physical beauty in that my true face is hidden. But my body is untouched. Breasts, hips, legs are of a level of perfection only a Siren can possess.
The questions die on his lips. The humidity here at the beach makes my long, dark hair wave. Its loose now, past my shoulders, partially covering my breasts.
Zack reaches out and picks up a strand. I love your hair down. He begins to curl it around his finger, reeling me in. You should wear it like this more often. In fact, this entire outfit meets with my approval.
I cant help smiling, more comfortable in my skin than in silk and lace. Oh yeah?
He looks me straight in the eye. Yeah.
I reach for his top shirt button and slide it back through the hole. You wouldnt find it . . . distracting?
Me? No. You know me. Im all about the mission. Eye on the ball.
Im on the last button now. Youd be more convincing if you werent looking at my breasts.
Which are amazing. As if to punctuate the statement, he palms one, feeling the weight of it, squeezing gently. Why do you insist on hiding them?
You mean I should take a page from television and wear low-cut blouses and spike heels on the job?
Works for me.
I interrupt his reverie when I step back to slide his shirt off his shoulders. Before he can express disappointment that Ive moved out of reach, I do two things that are guaranteed to leave a man speechless. I reach for the button on his trousers and I drop to my knees.
I give Zack a little shove and he falls back to sit on the edge of the bed, hands braced behind him. His chest is broad and well muscled. A light carpet of hair starts below his neck, fans out across his pecs, then narrows under his ribs. My eyes follow the happy trail until it disappears into the waistband of his slacks. Zack Armstrong is one gorgeous man.
I make short order of removing his shoes and socks. Then I set my hands on his knees and run them over his thighs. I subtly brush the zipper with the backs of my fingers. His hips rise off the bed.
Youre killing me here.
I deliberately take my time lowering his zipper, letting the tension build. For a moment I hold my breath. Then I draw him into my hand. Hes long, hard, and surprisingly thick. I stroke him, palm open and flat. He smells of testosterone, citrus, and spice. The scent is as complicated as the man himself. Clean. Mysterious. Sexy.
I want to feel your mouth on me, he says.
I oblige, giving him a firm squeeze before leaning forward and offering him my tongue, sliding him between my lips.
His hand goes to the back of my head. Christ, Emma.
I take him deep. My mouth and tongue quickly develop a nice rhythm. Both his hands tangle in my hair. Zack guides me firmly yet gently. I can tell by his breathing hes getting close. His grip tightens suddenly and he gasps.
Emma, stop!
The request is entirely unexpected. I sit back, releasing him. The instant I do, he pulls me up. His mouth devours mine. The kiss is demanding, insistent. A growl emanates from somewhere deep within his chest, low, primal. My eyes fly open and I pull back from him. The flash of light blue I saw Wednesday night in his normally brown eyes is there again. Before I have time to even fully register it, hes stripped his trousers off and deposited me on his bed.
Zack I place my hand in the center of his chest. Hes hovering over me, six foot three of tall, dark, and dangerous.
If you dont want this to happen, now would be a good time to say so.
Your eyes, theyve changed.
Zack lowers his head and nuzzles my cheek. My wolf likes you, he whispers. I feel the pulse of his warm breath against my neck. But dont worry. Im in control, not the beast. I dont let it have free rein. Not ever. Thats what the cage is for. As he says the words, one hand travels down, passing my hip, gliding over the top of my thigh, then snaking its way into my panties.
His fingers separate my folds and delve into the wetness. My hips lift off the mattress, wanting more.
Take everything off. My voice is rough with want.
Zack doesnt need to be asked twice.
He peppers hot, openmouthed kisses across my collarbone, through the valley between my breasts, and over my stomach. I shiver with anticipation as he hooks his fingers into my panties and lowers them down my silk-covered legs. The shoes come off next. He tosses them over his shoulder and they land on the floor with a clunk. Then he rolls the stockings off, taking the time to shake and smooth each one out before dropping them off the edge of the bed.
He lifts one of my legs into the air and kisses the inside of my ankle. I find myself grinning.
Zack notices. Youre smiling.
Im happy, I confess. Its true.
Youre beautiful, he says.
I worry my glamour is fading. That in the moment Ive somehow become careless. But I dont hold on to the concern very long. Zacks climbing up the length of my body. Hes hard and ready and in position.
He kisses my nose, then reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a condom.
We dont need it. I cant conceive. As a werewolf, Zack isnt susceptible to human disease; the process of shape-shifting cures all ills. But he can procreate. I take the condom from him and toss it aside. Hey, didnt you say something about me being in control?
Zack grins. You want to take control?
We roll.
He places his hands on my waist. Im all yours, baby.
Im flying once again. As I did long ago when I had my real wings. Zack and I soar, together. Higher and higher, until the real world is far below. Until no one in it or of it can touch us.
Day Five: Saturday, April 14
I wake up in Zacks house, in Zacks bed. His arm is draped over my waist. His hand cups my breast. I feel as if Ive run a marathon. My body is sore, but Im exhilarated. Zack is as unpredictable and versatile a lover as he is a man, as skilled at hard and fast as he is at slow and easy. The clock on the nightstand says six. We cant have been asleep more than three hours.
I gently lift his arm and roll over. The lines of his face are smoothed in sleep. His beard has grown thicker during the night. Im tempted to trace the outline of his lips, to kiss his generous mouth. A pull of desire makes me clench my thighs together and I feel myself getting wet again. But theres also the sting of rash burn from his stubble on the inside of my thighs. What I really need is a shower.
I place a soft kiss on Zacks shoulder before slipping out of bed. He stirs and I slip the pillow Id been sleeping on under his arm. He doesnt waken, snuggling the pillow against his cheek as if still holding me.
Smiling, I pad across the thick carpet to the bathroom.
Its an homage to luxurymarble floors, expensive tile, mirrors, and glass. I stand stock-still for a moment in wonder. Zacks bathroom is about the size of my bedroom and living room combined. The sunken tub is long and deep; I imagine even Zack can stretch out in it. The shower at the far end has three showerheads and would easily accommodate a family of five. Just as Id reached the conclusion I could spend the rest of my life living in Zacks bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the long mirror lining the wall behind the sinks.
My hand is trembling as I lift it to touch my face. Its been centuries since Ive seen myself like this. My skin is radiant, my hair shining like the finest lacquer. It cascades down my back and over my shoulders in soft waves. My lips are swollen, bruised red from too many kisses. My eyes, bright with lingering desire, begin to tear, clouding my vision and threatening to spill. I havent purposefully given up the glamour. Im not even purposefully lowering it enough to display a hint of my real self. Yet Im effulgent, glowing.
My heart soars free for one fabulous blissful moment.
Then reality comes crashing down.
Theres only one possible explanation. Im falling in love with Zack. And hes falling in love with me. Despite words and assurances, we werent careful enough. We werent honest enough. Not with each other. Not even with ourselves. Last night was supposed to be about one thingsex.
Instead . . .
I stumble, the back of my knees hitting the edge of the tub and my legs collapsing beneath me. I sit, close my eyes, focus on my breathing, on the cool marble beneath my feet, on what needs to be done. Ive practiced this exercise with Liz hundreds of times, just like with her grandmother before her, with other witches over time. Its only when there are leaks that the glamour erodes. My power is escaping. I can hear their collective voices. If you arent doing it on purpose, theres a crack in the armor. Find it. Fix it.
I can do this. I have to. If Demeter so much as senses what Im, what Zack is feeling . . .
If Zack should walk in and see me, the real me . . .
It cant happen.
I blow out a breath and struggle to stay calm. I talk myself through, step by step. Check the walls. Bring them down, one by one. Concentrate. Pull the power in. Raise the wall back up.
At last, I open my eyes, stifle a sob.
Nothing has changed.
The face staring back at me is still Ligeas, and unless I take control of my feelings, deny Zack, I cant protect him.
I close my eyes. Push everything that happened last night to the back of my mind. Remind myself who and what Zack isa werewolf. More important, my partner. This job is the only chance I have to win my freedom. He cant stand in my way. Anyone who does risks the unimaginable. Thinking we could have sex with no consequences was a foolish mistake because I cant control the way Zack feels about me. I have to control the way I feel about him. I have to.
Concentrate, Emma. Accept the truth. You have no future with Zack. I close my eyes and patiently work through the steps again.
The change starts slowly. I feel it in the core of my being, feel myself disappearing. I open my eyes and watch the beauty fade. Faint lines appear around my eyes and mouth, my skin dulls, my hair loses its bounce.
Another sob escapes my lips. This time because it worked.
My human persona is back.
I open the bathroom door a sliver and peek out. Zack is still sound asleep. The mere fact that I want to keep him safe proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that hes in very serious danger. At some point during the night I slipped. I let down my guard. It cant happen again. I need to have Liz check the spell, make sure there are no other leaks.
I head for the shower. Eye on the ball, Emma. You have a job to do. You have people counting on you. Liz is counting on you.
I just need to take this one step at a time. Concentrate. Ill make a quick stop at the vegan bakery Liz frequents on the way over to Evans and pick up some of those almond coconut buns she likes. If I know Liz, and I do, shell have a pot of coffee ready, but she wont have eaten. There are three vampires missing, including Evan. Its time to go to work.
Redemption could be one rescue away.
CHAPTER 17
I park in Evans guest spot, but I dont get out of the car. Not right away. I keep checking my reflection in the rearview mirror. If I wasnt scrupulous enough in pulling back the power, Liz will see it the instant she sees me. So far, the glamour seems firmly in place. The plain Jane facade I show to the world is once again on display. And since no news from Demeter is good news, maybe my transgression went unnoticed.
I was lucky this time. But I cant let myself think about Zack or our lovemaking or how his skin felt against mine or
Shit. I bang my hand against the steering wheel. Pain jolts up my arm.
Double shit.
Stop it. Liz needs you.
I get out of the car and head in. Liz does her thing and pulls open the door before I have a chance to knock. I hold my breath. Is she going to say something about the fact that Im still dressed in her gown?
Normally shed never let something like that go. This morning, shes too preoccupied and bleary-eyed to notice. Liz takes my hand and pulls me inside. Shes wearing the same clothes she had on the afternoon before, too.
I toss the pastry bag on the coffee table. Did you get any sleep at all?
She sinks onto the couch, buries her face in her hands. I cant sleep. I cant eat. I cant think.
I should have stayed here with you last night. Maybe if I had . . .
She shakes her head, then drops her hands and looks up at me. No, you had to go. You might have learned something. But you didnt. Did you? If you had
I take both her hands in mine and sit next to her. Im sorry. Were still following leads, but we dont have anything definitive. I think its time you call the police.
But you and Zack will keep working on the case, too, wont you? Youre not giving up? Please, tell me youre not giving up!
Of course we wont give up. I would never give up on someone so important to you. Its just that the more people we have out looking for Evan, the better. I reach for the bag and heft it in the palm of my hand. Come on. Lets have some breakfast.
Liz reluctantly gets to her feet and I follow her to the kitchen. Her shoulders sag with weariness and worry. Shes exhausted both mentally and physically. I suppress the impulse to tell her about the other missing vampires. I cant see that doing anything but adding to her misery. If we havent been able to find Amy and Isabella, it wont be much consolation that Evan now makes three.
Liz goes through the motions of putting on a fresh pot of coffee as if working on autopilot. I take a dish from the pantry and lay out the pastries. The silence in the condo is like a third presenceoppressive, overwhelming. Its not until were seated at the breakfast bar, cups in front of us, that Liz breaks it.
What are his chances, Emma?
Shes picking at one of the pastries, pulling it into small pieces, none of which make it to her mouth. She swivels to face me. Dont the police say that if a missing person isnt found in forty-eight hours, odds are that he wont be found at all?
Youve been watching too much Law & Order, I reply, keeping my tone light. They have to say that on television because they only have an hour to tell a story. There are no hard and fast rules. We will find Evan. Well bring him home. Zack and I will make sure of it.
For the first time since I walked in the door, Lizs expression shifts from worry to surprise. Shes looking at me.
Really looking at me. Somethings wrong. Emma, what are you doing?
My stomach clenches. Im doing everything I can to find Evan. I promise you.
She waves the words away with the back of a hand. That isnt what I meant and you know it. Why are you still dressed in that gown? You didnt go home last night? Her eyes bore into mine. But youve showered. No makeup. Your hair is still damp.
She stops, waiting for me to say something. What can I say?
When I turn my eyes away, she grabs my hand. You and Zack? Tell me you havent let it go too far.
Before I can think of a way to answer, she does it for me. Youre falling for him. I can see it. Youre struggling to contain the glamour. He saw you. You let him see the real you, didnt you? Thats why I didnt hear from you last night.
Its as if she has a laser beamed into my head. I was with him last night, yes. But I didnt let him see me. Im not even sure he did.
You didnt let him? Youre not sure? Liz throws up her hands. Are we going to quibble over semantics? You know the risk. The danger. Not letting it happen and having it happen anyway? Thats even more serious. Youve stayed under the radar for decades, but that doesnt mean Demeter isnt out there waiting for you to screw up. Shes a vindictive bitch. And you know that better than anyone. Remember the last man you fell in love with?
I didnt need Demeters graphic reminder the other night. And I certainly dont need Lizs now.
Of course I remember. I buried him three days after our wedding. Tears cloud my vision. Its my turn to cover my face with my hands.
Lizs voice softens. Its not too late. I can give you something. She slips from the stool and disappears up the stairs.
Im too numb to do anything but remain motionless, staring into my coffee and trying to wipe the image of a funeral on a bleak and dark December morning in Bristol from my mind.
When Liz returns, she has an envelope in her hand. She presses it into mine, holding on to me. Grandma told me to keep this on hand, just in case something like this happened. Stir this into Zacks coffee. It will erase his memory of any intimacy youve shared. You need to get back on course. You cant fall in love with him.
By intimacy you mean . . . ?
Physical intimacy.
Zack isnt stupid, and hes not oblivious to magic. Hell notice the gaps.
There wont be any gaps. Thats part of the elegance of this particular spell. His own imagination will create alternative, plausible, and most important, safe scenarios. As far as hell be concerned, youll be platonic partners. Thats it. Hell 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.
Lizs 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 Lizs hand for emphasis. No. I had no idea. Do you think Id 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. Im not sure I want him to forget.
You do, Emma. Of course you do. The two of you crossed a line. The kind you cant easily take back. Hearts are involved. Its the only way.
What if he doesnt give up?
Listen, change the dynamic. Fool around all you want with Zack. Fuck him senseless every night. Youve had hundreds of lovers. You just need to make sure he understands its nothing serious. That it cant be anything serious. Keep your feelings hidden. The greatest sex hes ever had completely without strings? No man on earth would turn down a relationship like that. And with the potion, hell accept it. He wont remember anything different. Just dont 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 Ive been paying Liz for all these years. Shes doing her job. But taking care of me has become more than a job. Thats why I see the compassion in her eyes.
But all I feel is numb.
I have to cut Zack loose and I dont feel anything.
Before heading to the office, I do what I should have done before going to Lizs. I stop at home to change. The detour takes me all of fifteen minutes. Then Im 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. Its 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.
Im heading for the elevator when I see her. Sarah. Standing off to one side in the lobby. Today shes 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 shes bigger than me, partly because she looks pissed, really pissed, and the lobby is emptyI shift my bag to free the hand closer to my gun. Perhaps Im being paranoid, but I feel better knowing its readily accessible.