Broken Heart 07 Cross Your Heart (6 page)

“Perhaps only were-jags can mate with humans.” I smiled at Tez. “Your mother must’ve been very special.”

“Or just convenient.” Tez smiled back, but his attempt at levity didn’t take the edge off his bitter tone.

I was taken aback. His paternal-inspired anger added a new layer to this man, who was flirtatious, sexy, dutiful, and far too macho. I wondered what it had been like for him growing up with a human mother, knowing that his father had abandoned her and the child she carried. Tez had his secrets… but didn’t we all?

My cell rang. I plucked the iPhone from my purse and answered.

“I heard you had a real interesting morning,” said Patsy. “Those dawn shenanigans can get you killed, you know.”

“I’ll try to cut down on my aberrant behavior.”

Tez’s hand snaked out and squeezed my thigh. I’d have to remember to use “aberrant behavior” in the future—and not just in conversation. I lightly slapped at his hand and he removed it, but I could still feel the lingering heat of his fingers. It was surely a phantom sensation because I was wearing pants and my undead flesh didn’t retain warmth.

“Well, can you come on by?” asked Patsy. “And bring the cat man with you. I gotta show you something, Elizabeth. It’s some crazy shit, too.”

“You’ve spoken to Damian?” I asked.

“Yeah. He’ll need you to lead him to the location of the… er, find. And if you got a ghost, I’ll talk to the bastard. But first, come by here.”

“I’ll bring the box,” I said. “I think he’s attached to it somehow.”

“Peachy.
Like I don’t have enough assholes to deal with.” She blew out a breath. “Don’t worry, Elizabeth. I’ll take care of whoever’s bothering you.”

“Thank you.” We said our good-byes. I looked at Tez. “That was Queen Patricia. She asked us to drop by. However, I have to return to the house before we see her.”

“Okay. I’ll follow you out there.” He nodded toward his new friends. “Ladies.”

“Calphon is hosting a welcome party for you so you can meet the clan,” said Tawny. “Do you need a place to stay? We have a very comfortable… couch.”

Her gaze was all daggers as she stared at me. She cast a sultry look at Tez, and, I swear, she simpered. Goodness.

“That’s sweet of you,” said Tez, “but I already have digs lined up.” He pulled out a couple of business cards and handed one to each of the women. “Look forward to meeting the rest of the cats.”

Serri looked down at the card. “You’re a cop?”

Surprised, I paused in gathering my purse and stared at Tez.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m a homicide detective with the Tampa Police Department.” He looked at me with raised brows. “We leaving, or what?”

I scooted out of the seat and Tez followed me. He put his hand on the small of my back, then smiled down at the were-cats. “Nice to meet you both.”

“We’ll see you soon, Tez,” said Tawny.

I gave them a little wave, then turned and headed out of the diner. I felt perplexed by my feelings. My jealousy was absurd! Tez could spend time with whomever he chose. And certainly any woman, particularly a cat shifter, would be interested in him.

We stopped on the sidewalk. My Lexus was about three cars down from Tez’s Honda in the front parking area.

“You’re a homicide detective?” I asked. “And you’re only thirty-four?”

“Thirty-three,” he said. “And yeah, I’m with the murder squad. Only I’m on sabbatical.” He frowned at me. “Why the interest in my age?”

If I hadn’t died at the age of forty-three, I would be celebrating my forty-eighth birthday in a couple of months. That would make me nearly fifteen years older than Tez. I could hardly see Patrick holding his four-thousand-years-plus against Jessica, so it wasn’t particularly fair for me to consider the years between me and Tez. Still, I felt old and I would’ve preferred to feel ageless .
Damn. What was I doing even worrying about our age difference? It wasn’t as though we were, or would be, a couple.

“You’re not doing that woman’s math in your head, are you?” he asked. “Vampires don’t age, so you can’t do addition.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” I said, mortified that he’d guessed at my thoughts.

“Shit. You are doing math.” He shook his head, his lips quirking. “Whatever the problem is, you need to get over it, princess. ’Cause I’m not letting you being undead and me being a shifter get in the way of us.”

“You’ve decided that, have you?”

“God, I love that snotty tone.” He stepped closer, his gaze hot. “Yeah, I’ve decided. Now, you just need to decide, and we can move on.”

“Are you aware that sleeping with a vampire basically means you’re married for the next century?”

“Sleeping with,” he whispered, “or fucking?”

His coarse language sent a dark thrill shooting through me. He knew it, too, because his lips pulled into that feral grin—the one that all but said he’d enjoy knocking over every obstacle I put in his way. For what?
Sex? Well, I couldn’t have sex, not in the traditional ways—though, lovemaking certainly didn’t have to rely on penetration. Good Lord. I couldn’t believe I was even having these sorts of thoughts.

Tez was corrupting me… and I liked it.

“If you have intercourse with me,” I said, “then you’re my husband for the next hundred years. And you can’t have sex with anyone else, either.” I looked at him down my nose and pursed my lips, casting him a superior gaze. Jessica had once described this look as “snooty bitch.”

“I so want to bend you over right now.”

Shock nearly buckled my knees. “Tez!” I gaped at him. “Don’t you have a filter between your brain and your mouth?”

“Yeah. But I don’t use it much. As for a hundred years of being hitched to you, I don’t see the down side.” He tweaked my nose. “But I guess you need time to think about it. C’mon, I’ll follow you to your house.”

I was still flummoxed by his assertions—and his bold sexual statements. “I don’t need an escort.”

“I know,” he said. “You’re tough as nails, Ellie Bee. Still. I’ll park at your place. No reason for us to drive two cars to meet Queen What’s-her-face. Anyway, I need to stow my stuff.”

“Stow your…” I trailed off and stared at him. “Where, exactly, are you staying in Broken Heart?”

“With you.”

“I don’t recall issuing an invitation.”

“You don’t?” He reached for a loose curl and tugged on it. “It was in the woods last night. You know, when some wack-job tried to off you.”

The way he played with the strand of hair made me feel tingly. I had the oddest impression that he planned to sweep me into his arms and kiss me. My stomach squeezed, and I found myself licking my lips—as though preparing for that kiss. His gaze wandered around my mouth, and I felt the blood rushing away from my head. (Except that I really had very little blood to rush.) Around Tez, I felt keenly off balance. The strange thing, however, was how much I enjoyed that sensation of free-falling.

I cleared my throat, and plucked the curl from his blunt fingertips. I skewered him with another haughty look. “Are you saying that I don’t know how to protect myself?”

“Nope. I’m saying, ain’t nobody gonna kill my girl.” He turned me around, aimed me toward my car, and patted my buttocks. “Meet you at the house, Ellie Bee.”

For the love of heaven! How could this man’s chauvinistic behavior make me weak-kneed? It was such a primal response. I hadn’t felt in control of my emotions since I met Tez. Why not just live in a cave and wait for him to cudgel me with a club? Humph. Would I also cherish him dragging me along by my hair? I tried to feel offended, I really did. But those un-Elizabeth-like naughty thrills kept getting in the way. Whatever was I going to do about him?

I glanced over my shoulder, but Tez was already sliding into his car. I heard him whistling and instantly recognized the Elvis song “Don’t Be Cruel.”

We arrived at my house, and while Tez unloaded two duffels from the trunk of his car, I went inside. I unearthed a hatbox from my closet, layered it with tissue paper, and returned to the kitchen. The skull rested on its silk pillow, sadly regal, and I wondered again about to whom it belonged—and why she had wanted me to find her. As I placed the skull inside the hatbox, Tez walked into the kitchen with his gear and ambled toward the door that led to my bedroom.

“Excuse me, but where do you think you’re going?” I asked.

“I figured I’d put my underwear in with yours. That way they could all get to know each other.” One brown eyebrow lifted. “Unless you want to make some formal introductions right now?”

I ignored the sexual taunt. Oh, all right. I pretended to ignore it. My body had other reactions, but I took control. Barely. “You’re not living with me,” I said icily. “You’re visiting.”

He studied me, spending an inordinate amount of time on my breasts, and then he sighed. “Which room you giving me?”

“Gentleman’s choice.”

He grinned.

“Any room you like upstairs. Mine is off limits.”

His look seemed to say We’ll see about that, and he said nothing. He pressed something into my hands: the jewelry container I’d dropped in the foyer last night. It felt cold, and fear slicked my spine. “Oh. Thanks.”

He studied me, frowning. “What?”

“It’s just… um, nothing. I need to bring this to Patsy and see if she can sense the spirit that tried to hurt me.”

“Murdering ghosts? I don’t get it. Christ. This is one fucked-up little town,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll see you in a sec.” He sauntered away. A moment later, I heard him climbing the stairs. He was whistling “Don’t Be Cruel” again.

I smiled.

“Elizabeth.”

The angry male voice startled me. I looked up, shocked to see a huge wavering shadow. It exuded a terrible chill that stabbed at me like tiny knives.

Something hard and sharp and cold punched me in the chest.

I flew across the kitchen, smacking into the pantry door. Big male hands enclosed my throat and squeezed.

“You love me,” whispered a man’s anguished voice. “I’ll make you remember that you’re mine. I’ll make you remember, Elizabeth.”

It is cold.

I can’t see because of the cloth tied over my eyes, but I know we’re outside. I smell the crisp scent of pine and hear my captor’s footsteps crunch the snow.

My hands are bound. He’s tied my feet together, too, boots and all. I’m wearing my new dress—it’s brown velveteen and copper silk with pretty bows on the bodice and at the cuffs of the wide sleeves. I’d been wearing the matching hat. Its band is lined with copper silk roses.

I don’t know what happened to it. My hair is loose and unpinned.

He must’ve done that.

After he hit me.

The blow to my jaw knocked me out. I awoke in his arms, blindfolded, my extremities tied. The left half of my face throbs with pain.

He puts me down.

I feel so weak. I am weighed down by the dress, and by guilt. It didn’t have to be this way. But I made my choice. Perhaps I deserve my fate.

He stretches me out, and, beneath me, I feel the snow all around. I smell the fresh earth, and I know his terrible purpose.

“Don’t do this,” I whisper.

He leans close, like he used to when he wanted to whisper sweet nothings, and says, “You did this… when you betrayed me.”

I cry. The tears fall down my cheeks, drip into my ears.

He puts his hands around my throat and squeezes.

The pain and the pressure burst in my head, crowd my throat. I cannot cry anymore, or scream. Panic screeches through me. I kick my bound feet, writhe, and, in my mind, beg and beg for my life.

It’s all useless. There is no escape.

He squeezes and squeezes until I cannot draw another breath. The pain fades, and I feel so light, so free. I drift up among the tall pines, and I see him undress the woman, stripping away the pretty dress.

Then I hear the rasp of the shovel and the thud of dirt. I feel caught by something, snagged by purpose. I cannot leave. Not yet. Sensations are fleeting… all, but one.

It is cold.

“C’mon, princess, time to wake up.”

In the murky dark, the calm voice offered me a rope of light, so I grabbed onto it and clung.

My eyes fluttered open. I was lying on the kitchen floor, propped in Tez’s arms.

My head hurt.

“What are we doing down here?” I asked hoarsely.

“You can’t handle your tequila,” said Tez. The relief skittering across his face surprised me. Was he just a good cop, easily empathetic? Or did he feel like he had a genuine connection to me?

“Do let me up, Tez.”

“No.”

I stared at him. There was something hard in his eyes, and I recognized that brand of determination. I’d seen it in the mirror often enough. “Please. I can’t continue this conversation prostrate on the floor.”

“Fine.” He scooped me up and stood swiftly—without so much as a grunt of effort. “I think we should call your wolf friend and get a security detail on your house. And you’re gonna tell me who’s trying to kill you.”

“I have no idea.” I gazed at him, realizing that I was shaking. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been so frightened. “It was the ghost. Only this time, I saw a… shadow.”

“You’re okay, Ellie Bee.” He took me into the parlor and gently placed me in a toile wingback chair. He knelt next to me and showed me his cell phone. For a moment, I couldn’t comprehend the image on the tiny screen.

Oh, my God.

It was me, unconscious, leaning lopsided against my pantry door. The obvious bruising around my neck startled me. I put my hand on my throat, which still felt tender. I’ll make you remember, Elizabeth.

And he had. But I knew those were not my memories. I knew they belonged to the dead woman I’d found. I didn’t understand my own connection to what was happening. It had all started with that damned ring box.

“If you were human, you’d be dead.” He examined my neck. “You’re already healing. This is the same, er, spirit that attacked you before? The thing you told Damian about?”

I nodded. “That box is from Patsy’s home—the mansion that once belonged to my family. I have to believe that it has something to do with the past, with another Elizabeth, and this ghost is just… confused.”