Green-Eyed Envy (14 page)

She nodded. “Aye, aye, Riss.”

I let out a deep breath and glanced around the crime scene once more. The dull throb of my knee, which had been bugging me all day, became a steady, outright burst of pain. I cursed inwardly. Like I didn’t have enough crap to worry about without my injury giving me fits again.
Gonna have to bite the bullet and find
someone
who can help me fix this.

As much as Kiara’s potions and spell-worked bandages had done for me over the past few months, they had their limits. She wasn’t a full-fledged Healer, and she wasn’t a mundane MD. It was really starting to look like I needed somebody who was both. Of course, that severely limited my options since there weren’t too many arcanes who could call themselves magical Healers
and
licensed medical doctors. Still, I had decent connections in both worlds. Surely I could find
someone
that could help me.

Scott picked up on my exhaustion and the frayed edges of pain around my eyes and mouth. In his typical way, he didn’t bother beating around the bush expressing that fact, either. “You look like shit, Riss. Let’s get you home so you can catch some Z’s.”

Trinity and Mahina exchanged amused glances, and Kale smirked. Wisely, though, he kept his male mouth shut.

It was proof of just how tired I really was that I didn’t comment on Scott’s missing tact and just nodded. After giving a few last-minute instructions to the other members of the MCU, I let Scott lead me away from the blood-bathed crime scene. We didn’t speak much on the drive home in the undercover van I’d commandeered for the night, just held hands as we each became lost in our own thoughts. My mind raced, picking through the various clues and pieces of evidence we’d gathered over the past couple of weeks, trying to make sense of the senseless and decide who should be Suspect Numero Uno. The pounding of my knee didn’t make that an easy task. Beating that out as a distraction, however, was my growing worry for the man sitting next to me, softly caressing my fingers with his own. The man I was learning to love more each day—even when he drove me up the wall—and that terrified me even more. The thought that I could lose him when I’d only just gotten him back . . . It made my heartbeat pick up speed. It made sweat break out on my brow. It made me feel a depth of fury I hadn’t felt in months, not since Vanessa died in my arms. Losing her had been like losing a piece of myself, and with Scott, I knew it would be ten times worse. I’d lived through losing him once. Going through that again—permanently—would kill me.

Rage reared its ugly head, and razor-sharp talons exploded from my fingers without conscious intent. Scott let out a hiss of pain, and the scent of blood had my already-blurry vision going even hazier.
Shit!
I hadn’t lost control like this in years—not counting my reaction to Vanessa’s death.

“Uh, Riss, you okay, baby?”

The love and concern in his voice nearly did me in. Tears pricked my eyes, taking my vision from blurry to blinded, and I had no choice but to jerk the van over to the side of the road. Through my tears, I could just make out the sight of my townhouse a half-block away. Ironic that I’d steered us here on instinct and found an actual legal parking spot to boot.

My voice sounded more forlorn than I could remember when I shook my head adamantly. “No, Scott, I’m
not
okay.” My breath came in quick pants as I fought to clear my vision. He pulled my hand—the one that had sliced into his—up to his face and kissed my fingers tenderly. I could see that my unexpected vulnerability touched him. His eyes glowed with tenderness and love. So much love.

More than I deserved by far.

“I understand,” he said softly. “It wasn’t easy to see someone we were just talking to a couple of days ago torn up like that. And so soon after Vanessa. That had to be hard for you.”

I bit my lips hard enough to draw blood. “You’re right, Scott. That
was
hard. But it’s not what has me so worked up right now.”

He tilted his head. “Then what is it, baby? How can I make it better?”

“That’s just it, Scott. I don’t think you can. I’m worried about
you
. ”

Confusion marred his features. “What are you talking about?”

I rolled my eyes. “Have you forgotten the fact you had a past relationship with Harper? You know, the woman whose ex-lovers are being brutally picked off one by one? What if the killer finds out about you and her? What if I get called to another crime scene, and instead of some anonymous Jove Doe or guy I barely know, it’s you?” My voice broke.

“Riss, you know I can take care of myself.”

I gave him a pointed look. “Yeah, just the way Vanessa could take care of herself. Just the way my mother took care of herself. Just like all of those Cats
should have
been able to take care of themselves. As you reminded me recently, not a one of us is infallible, Scott. Immortal we may be, but not indestructible. And that includes you.”

He tried to reassure me, but I barreled on without letting him speak. “What if this killer gets you alone and drugs you? What if he does to you what he did to Ward Rockefeller and I can’t stop it? Don’t you know that would kill me, too?”

Suddenly, just like that, something inside clicked for me. This was exactly how my father had felt every time my mother went out on another Fury mission. This feeling was what David felt when he’d had to watch
me
follow in her footsteps and go off on my own life-risking endeavors. And this feeling was precisely the reason Scott hadn’t fought harder to keep me from breaking up with him after Vanessa’s disappearance, when her smarmy ex-boyfriend Dre Carrington forced Scott’s family to work for him. Terror that I would share Vanessa’s fate and he’d have to live with that loss.

I had no idea why this came as such a revelation to me. Intellectually I’d always understood these things, but nothing hit you upside the head with a clue-by-four quite as hard as firsthand paranoia.

Scott pulled me across the bench seat and into the shelter of his embrace. His magic fingers trailed across the bare skin of my tattooed arms, whispering up, down, and up again. He leaned forward to press soft kisses along my forehead, murmuring comforting little nothings in between kisses that somehow managed to make me feel better.

Then again, that could have been the wakening hormones talking.

“Riss, I love you, and I
know
you love me, but remember what my trying to protect you two years ago cost us both. We lost years that we could have been together. We
have
to focus on that, on living our lives the way
we
choose to and not letting some psychopath push us into running scared to suit
his
twisted purposes.”

“Scott, I don’t think I’m strong enough to lose you again. Not like that. I mean, I could take it if things just didn’t work out between us. It would hurt like hell, sure. But I can
not
bear the thought of walking up to a crime scene and seeing
you
beaten to a bloody pulp.” My voice hitched and tears stung my eyes again.

He pulled me tightly to the warm, hard planes of his body. “Riss, if we work together, if we channel all of our resources into finding this guy, you won’t have to. Besides . . . ” He planted one more kiss on my head. “Nobody else knows about Harper and me. You’re the only person I’ve told.” That might have given me a warm, fuzzy feeling if he’d voluntarily told me instead of me browbeating him into it.

I pushed back slightly. “Okay, I’m glad that I’m the only one
you
told, but what about Harper?”

He shook his head. “Trust me, no way Harp went and blabbed about that to anyone. Cats
don’t
kiss and tell.”

I rolled my eyes. “Unlike Hounds, you mean.”

He growled playfully. “I know I’d like to kiss and tell with
you
right now.”

It shouldn’t have been so easy for him to get me in the mood. I’d had the day from hell, and the night had only gotten worse. Feeling frisky should have been the last thing on my mind. But the magic of being with Scott was that he could get my body revved up in a way no other man ever had. I looked into his eyes and gave in to the desire burning between us. What better time than now to reaffirm our love for each other, to physically express our emotions and laugh in the face of the psycho obsessed with Harper who didn’t know the meaning of the word
love
? By the enthusiastic way he led me out of the van, into the townhouse, and up to my bedroom, Scott agreed wholeheartedly.

TWO WEEKS PASSED IN A BLUR OF RUNNING down investigative leads that turned into dead ends, putting in appearances at wedding-related events, and keeping tabs on my family members as much as I could manage. Fast-forward to my idea of the
perfect
Saturday morning: trapped inside a high-end bridal boutique with one bride, nine bridesmaids, and her mother and aunts while figurative feathers ruffled over who should wear what dress style and one particularly pain-in-the-ass cousin complained loudly over Harper’s chosen color. Though what was so offensive about midnight blue was beyond me.

Yeah, just the way I wanted to spend what should have been a rare day off.

Dear cousin Camilla cornered me for the umpteenth time when I let my guard down for five seconds, whining about how sallow “such hideously dark colors” made her skin look. I was a few straws past the camel’s-back-breaking limit, so I pasted a saccharine smile onto my lips. “Sallow skin, oh the horror! We simply
can’t
have that.” I tapped a pen against my trusty clipboard, tilted my head to the side, and faked a sympathetic look. “Penn’s sister Elliana
is
the same size as you. While she’s not on the best of terms with the groom’s grandmother, I’m sure she would be more than willing to step in for you. With such gorgeous dark skin, sallowness will certainly be no problem for
her
. ”

Camilla’s eyes widened, and she opened and closed her mouth several times before managing an uncharacteristically quiet reply. “No, that’s okay, I—I’ll make it work. I know a makeup artist who does wonders.” She scurried away before I could make good my threat to replace her as Bridesmaid Number 6.

I couldn’t help the smirk that crossed my lips. Gods, the only thing getting me through this day (other than the promise of quality time with Jack later) was the fact I was dealing with the bride’s and groom’s families separately: the bride’s in the morning at the bridal boutique and the groom’s in the afternoon at the tuxedo fitting. There’d initially been talk of having Penn’s female relatives along here as well, but smarter heads had prevailed. Thank
all
the gods and goddesses. Twice.

A chuckle caught my attention. I turned and caught sight of the not-so-tall but wicked-dark and handsome Victor Esteban. He smiled, appreciation gleaming in his eyes; although, as usual, he played the perfect gentleman and kept his attention focused on my face rather than my girls. “Well played, Sierra.” He nodded at the retreating back of Bridesmaid Number 6.

I allowed my smirk to shift into a self-satisfied smile. “After dealing with high-maintenance relatives like that for more years than I care to remember, I’ve learned there are three basic types of bridesmaids. The selfless ones who are there to make the bride’s day easier, the more common bridesmaids who are there for the bride but aren’t afraid to tell it like they see it, and the temperamental prima donnas like Camilla who will bitch and moan about every tiny detail having to do with them. Funny thing, though. The moment you mention replacing them as a bridesmaid they suddenly become all sunshine and roses.”

Vic stepped closer, and his shoulder pressed against my arm. Tiny sparks of heat flashed from his body to mine. I flushed at the sensation. Seemingly unmoved, he glanced down at the clipboard in my hands. “Well, color me impressed. Care to organize my life a little? I am absolutely hopeless when it comes to that sort of thing.” He gave a heavy sigh. “Though you are obviously so busy you may not be able to fit me in. Don’t you allot for any
me
time in your schedule?”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t think I’ve had any of
that
since I started establishing my clientele here in Beantown. If I’m lucky and we manage to finish on schedule here, though, I may actually get to enjoy an hour or two for a real, live lunch.”

He gestured to the bride and nine bridesmaids in various stages of undress around the large fitting area we had claimed for our own. “Harper choosing a color and fabric but allowing each woman to select her specific dress style was a stroke of genius.”

I glanced around and nodded. “True, that’s becoming a trend among some brides. I actually love the practice because it takes away the worry of offending any bridesmaid who might not have the right body type for a particular style, while at the same time retaining the sense of cohesion and theme most brides aim for.” Yes, I had studied my wedding planner’s guide well.

His dark eyes smoldered as they peered into my own again. “Well, if things go as smoothly when Harper tries on her gown as they are going with the bridesmaids, perhaps you
can
steal away an hour or two for yourself—and me. Lunch at the eatery of your choice, my treat.”

Damn, this man was sexy. The chemistry between him and
Sierra
practically sizzled in the air. If it weren’t for the fact I knew Scott was listening in on the wireless headset, I might have allowed myself to sink a little further into Sierra’s persona and flirt like hell in return. One small favor from the gods, at least. Scott was so busy running a background check on Vic’s new security force that he hadn’t made any jealous jabs at
Vic the Slick
yet.

As conflicted as I felt over my attraction to Victor, I couldn’t pass up the perfect opportunity to grill him for more information. While he wasn’t at the top of my suspect list, I couldn’t afford to discount him completely. Plus, as not only one of Harper’s exes, but a current close friend, he could provide a treasure trove of valuable information not readily available elsewhere. The sudden rumbling of my stomach made the decision for me.