Broken Heart 07 Cross Your Heart (7 page)

He kissed my forehead. I found the gesture oddly touching. It seemed that Tez was as capable of showing tenderness as he was of making sexual overtures. “We’ll figure this out.” He tucked his cell phone away.

“Why don’t we go see Queen Patsy as planned, and discuss this situation with her?”

“Damian first,” he said. “You’re not gonna be stubborn about getting some protection ’round here, are you?”

“Of course not. But I don’t think a few extra lycanthropes prowling around will help.”

His expression was concern edged with suspicion. “You sure you don’t know who this guy is?”

I shook my head, fear sliding through me once more. “But he seems to know me.”

I told Tez I needed a minute to freshen up, and went downstairs to my room. I sat on my bed, clutching a throw pillow to my chest, trying to gather my wits. If I was able to use my lungs, I might have a hard time catching my breath. And if I had a heartbeat, it would be racing. I didn’t have the physical reactions anymore, which was good, because they would have made what I was feeling much worse.

Someone, something, was trying to kill me. Or rather, trying to kill her, the other Elizabeth.

Again.

I pushed away the horror gathering like spiders in my stomach and allowed my thoughts drift to Tez. He was acting very protective, and I attributed such posturing to his law-enforcement background. At least, that would be the logical conclusion. I couldn’t dismiss his gentle demeanor, or the sincere concern he displayed for me. Was it possible he truly cared for me? Or was this another case like those he must’ve solved in Tampa? He was an intelligent man, and one of the most stubborn I’d ever met.

I liked him very much.

After making sure I was truly all right, Tez had pocketed the box and started prowling around the kitchen, looking for clues. I’d noticed him flaring his nostrils, and realized he was trying to scent my attacker. Did ghosts have scents? I wasn’t sure what to do about Tez’s worry, or about his rather large and strange assumption that he somehow had the right to protect me. What also struck me as a little… well, desperate, was how much I liked how he treated me, even the rawness of his words and actions. I felt incredibly like a woman adored.

Maybe I was just unused to the concept of someone caring about me in a wholehearted way. I very much wanted to experience what other couples, especially the ones who’d fallen in love in Broken Heart, felt for each other. I don’t know if it was part and parcel of immortal connections, or just incredible luck, but I’d never seen such solidarity between lovers. What would it be like to feel absolute trust? To know your best friend was also the person who drove you sexually wild? To never doubt for even a nanosecond that your husband would fight for you, rescue you, love you no matter what?

Maybe I’d read too many romance novels. It was probably coloring my perceptions of my friends’ relationships. And it was certainly contributing to my rose-colored thoughts about Tez and our potential as a couple.

Well, then. First things first. I went into the bathroom and brushed my hair, fixed my makeup. Then I changed into black capris and a red sleeveless top. I also changed into a pair of black stilettos—which immediately made me feel better. Who needed prescription drugs when there were shoe stores?

When I got back upstairs, I found Tez waiting for me in the kitchen. He led me into the parlor and had me sit at the table. Then he sat down across from me and pointed to the cup of tea, jasmine by the scent.

“You were pretty shook up. Thought some tea might soothe your nerves.”

“You’re not having any?”

“Coffee’s more my style.”

I could almost hear the “not sissy tea” tacked on to the end of his sentence. I doubted a cuppa could do much to alleviate my fears. But it was a nice gesture all the same. A jar of honey sat nearby. I picked up the teaspoon sitting inside it and stirred the sweet substance into the tea.

“This was very kind of you,” I said, “but Queen Patricia is waiting for our arrival.” I hated to be late to any appointment, and was especially respectful of the queen’s time. She was a very busy woman—ruling two different species and raising triplets.

“Oh, don’t worry about her. She’s comin’ here.”

Startled, I dropped the spoon on the table. The honey splattered on the white tablecloth. I stared at the glistening gold drops, then lifted my gaze to Tez. “Why?”

“Your iPhone accidentally slipped out of your purse and dialed her number.”

He said it so casually that I didn’t quite register the words for a moment. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I could take a long, deep inhalation. I missed not being able to inflate my lungs to create some inner calm.

“Let’s be clear. You took my cell from my purse, snooped through my contact list, called Queen Patricia, and invited her for a visit?”

“Icicles are hanging from your words.”

The whisper of humor in his tone angered me.

“You had no right.”

“No, I didn’t.”

His admission stalled my response. So did his steadfast gaze; I supposed this might be his “cop” stare. Or maybe I’d just seen too many episodes of Law & Order.

“Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, I suppose.” I finished sweetening my tea and sipped on it.

“Bullshit. I violated your privacy to do what I thought was best for you.”

Carefully, I put down the china cup. The ritual of tea wasn’t calming me any better than pretend breathing. He’d done it again—made my control vanish. “Ah. You know what’s best for me,” I repeated.

“Rewind, princess. I said ‘thought,’ not ‘knew’.”

He took my hand and turned it over, then traced the lines on my palm. The light touches sent shivers right up my arm. He stared at my hand for so long that I cleared my throat and whispered, “What?”

“Everything in me wants to claim you. Protect you. Take you.” He snared my gaze again. I saw his vulnerability and confusion. He believed in what he was saying, and, my goodness, I believed it, too. My undead heart went ba-da-bump.

“I don’t mistake your sympathy, or your perception of me as a victim, as anything other than kindness. To suggest that we somehow have an emotional connection, mysterious and uncontrollable, is ludicrous.”

Tez let go of my hand, but his gaze roved my face. I had no doubt he was very good at determining the validity of someone’s statements through their facial expressions. I didn’t quite like the idea that he was examining my words with the same microscope used to determine the veracity of a perpetrator’s confession. Especially since some untruth might be clinging to my words. We had a connection—I just wasn’t sure what to do about it. I’d never been so emotionally walloped before.

Tez tensed, and looked over his shoulder.

Knock, knock, knock.

Obviously, Tez’s senses were far more honed than mine. Only after I saw him glance at the door did my hearing pick up the shuffling of feet, the low murmur of voices, and, if I wasn’t mistaken, the irritated sigh of Queen Patricia Marchand.

I rose from the table, and Tez did, too. He reached the door before I did, drawing his gun and peering out the peephole.

“Is queenie a blonde?”

“Yes,” I said crisply. “Please don’t call her that to her face. She’s Queen Patricia.”

“You called her Patsy.”

“Well, she’s my friend, not yours. Open the door.”

He sent me a hard look, but did as I asked. Patsy stood with her fist raised to knock again. Her hand dropped, and blue eyes targeted mine. Within her annoyed gaze lurked worry. I wondered what Tez had told her. Or maybe the concern was related to what she’d wanted to tell me. I wasn’t the only one with information to convey.

“You gonna let us in? I’m fucking freezing.” She swept past me, and behind her came her husband, Gabriel, then Damian. Lorcan and Eva had also made the trip.

Everyone crowded into my foyer. Tez slipped to my side, sheathing his gun in the shoulder holster.

“Well.” I smiled brightly and clutched Tez’s arm. His muscles tensed under my fingertips. “Shall we go sit down?”

I steered him into the formal living room. Everyone else followed. With two couches and four wingbacks, I had plenty of seating for guests.

“Would anyone like something to drink?” I asked.

“Don’t hover, Elizabeth,” said Patsy. Gabriel sat next to her, but I noticed there was some space between them. Usually they were quite affectionate with each other; however, they weren’t even holding hands much less exchanging the usual tender glances. It didn’t take a psychic to sense their emotional distance.

I sat on the couch and Tez joined me, squeezing between me and Damian. I looked at him with eyebrows arched, but he merely smiled and turned his attention to the queen. He pulled the silver box and his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Here’s what the asshole did to her,” he said as he worked the phone’s tiny buttons to bring up the photo of my injured neck. He handed over the cell and then gave Patsy the silver container. “We think it’s related to whatever the hell this is.”

Patsy grimaced as she looked at my photo. I felt on display, even though full disclosure seemed the best recourse. I did not like being thought of as a victim. She tossed the phone to Damian so he could see the dreadful photo, too. Then she studied the box, turning it over in her hands.

“Is there a ghost?” I asked.

Patsy looked around, and shook her head. “Nothing here now,” she said, “and I don’t feel any spirit imprints on the box. Maybe we’re dealing with something demonic.”

I’d feared that might be the case. If Patsy, who was the most powerful ghost whisperer in Broken Heart—if not the entire paranormal world—couldn’t sense a spirit, then it wasn’t in the vicinity.

“Demonic or not, this entity was not in my house before Rand delivered the jewelry box. There has to be a connection.”

“And with the skull?” asked Damian.

I nodded. I told the whole story again, from the first attack to finding the grave to meeting Tez in his jaguar form. Tez took the story from there, explaining how he’d chased off the person who’d struck me from behind and helped me get home before the sun rose.

“You did not see the intruder in the woods?”

Tez glanced at Damian. “I don’t know how it is for you, but I don’t process information the same way when I’m in my other form. I may not be able to pick out the bastard in a lineup, but once I catch his scent, he’s toast.” He grimaced. “But the rain washed everything away. Nothing registered.” He tapped the side of his nose.

“I’m sure the storm washed away any tracks he might’ve left.” Damian scowled. “Was it the phantom who tried to strangle Elizabeth?”

Tez sidled a glance at me. “I sank my claws into flesh.”

“Two different people, one human and one not, both after me on the same night?” I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I hate to keep saying it,” said Patsy, “but this feels demonic. We might need to get Phoebe in for a consult.” She looked at me. “What happened during today’s attack?”

“I was holding that infernal box. Tez went upstairs, and I heard this man’s voice yell my name. Then I saw a big black shadow. It pushed me with so much force that I hit the wall. He—it tried to choke me again. I passed out.”

I told them about the vision I experienced—about the death of the woman in the brown dress. I saw Patsy and Eva share a significant look. Eva had chosen to sit in one of the wingbacks and Lorcan was stationed behind her. For some reason I couldn’t discern, woman’s intuition maybe, I deducted they were being rather cool toward each other. I frowned. In all the time I’d lived in Broken Heart, I’d never known my friends to be mad at each other for any length of time. No relationship was perfect—of course, I knew this. Perhaps I was putting too much stock into the coincidence of both couples having tiffs right before visiting me. I think this entire situation with the violent spirit and the murdered woman, and Tez, had me rattled.

“Where’s the skull?” asked Patsy. “Maybe the ghost switched vessels.”

“They can do that?” Tez frowned.

“They can do just about anything they damned near want.” Patsy rolled her eyes. “Mostly, they’re a pain in the ass.”

“It’s in the kitchen.” I scooted forward, but Tez put his hand on my arm.

“I’ll get it.”

After he left, Patsy’s gaze met mine. “Why the hell was he out in the woods?”

Damian explained that Tez had infiltrated the magical and technological protections surrounding the town due to the temporary tattoo—apparently issued by the alpha Calphon.

“He requested a few for visiting family,” said Patsy. “He failed to tell me he was inviting strangers on in.”

“I get the impression that the were-cats are interested in Tez for assimilation into their community,” I said.

“What? Like the Borg?” Patsy snorted a laugh.

Damian seemed less than thrilled with the idea of Tez becoming a permanent part of Broken Heart. “You certain you trust him? What if he attacked you and convinced you it was someone else? It was raining, Leibling, and you weren’t yourself.”

“I saw the jaguar on the path,” I insisted. “In front of me. Then something hit me from behind and he jumped over me to intervene.”

“He says he was the jaguar,” said Damian. “That does not mean that he was.”

I looked at Damian. Maybe he was just exercising caution or maybe he was just being stubborn. “He discarded his clothes, woke me up, carried me through the rain, and tucked me into bed because he meant me harm? Why not finish the job and leave me for the sun?”

Damian couldn’t argue with my logic. He glanced at Patsy.

“We don’t know his purpose,” she said. “I’d feel better if we saw him shift. At least we’d know for sure he was parakind.”

“You think Calphon didn’t check him out before he sent Tez the tattoo?” I asked. “C’mon. Obviously they wanted him to come here. Maybe we should be worried about the alpha’s motivations.”

“Motivations for what?” asked Damian. He sounded both confused and annoyed about my suggestion that Calphon had ulterior motives. Well, what did we really know about the were-cats? They rarely interacted with other people in town. In fact, meeting Tawny and Serri today was the first time I’d ever met any of them. Maybe Tez should be worried about why they wanted him to hang around. I wasn’t sure how I felt about my own circuitous thought processes. Why was I so determined to defend Tez? I didn’t know. But I was firmly in his corner, and that was that.