Heart of the Witch (20 page)

"Jesus." Nick shook his head. "And I thought I was a cold sonofabitch. Your sister's dead. Don't you even care?"

Clenching her teeth, she growled, "Of course I care. But what good would it do to get all worked up and bare my soul?"

She started to climb inside her car, but he grabbed her arm. "Because that's part of what makes us human."

Ravyn looked at his hand, then up at his face. She pulled away and slipped inside her car. "Good-bye, Nick."

"Ravyn, wait. I have to tell you this. Please."

She bit her lip and looked up at him, leaving the door open. "What?"

"I'm a private detective." His eyes searched hers, but she didn't react. "I was hired by the husband of one of the Tin Man's victims to find the killer. That's why I came to your store. I wanted to get close to you to find out what you knew about him. I didn't need a job. I don't even have a daughter…"

Ravyn turned to stare out the windshield. She processed this information and felt mild surprise, but not betrayal. Not really. What did it matter? She barely knew him, and she was accustomed to subterfuge. She'd done it herself.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"Good God, if I'd told you the truth, if I'd talked to you and your sister, she may not have—"

"It wouldn't have made a difference. Now, I really do need to go." Ravyn tugged on the armrest, and Nick stepped back, hands in his pockets. As soon as she'd slammed the door, she drove away. She didn't look back.

It was early evening, and the sky was dark with the threat of rain. Each morning and afternoon since the funeral three days ago, Nick had both called Ravyn and driven by her shop, only to find it was still shut. In spite of the tight control she seemed to have on her emotions, or maybe because of it, he was worried.

He drove out to her lake house, wondering how she'd react when he showed up uninvited. He'd have to explain how he knew where she lived, but that wasn't a big concern. She couldn't think any less of him than she already did.

He knocked on the door and waited. No answer. Her car was in the driveway. What if she'd done something to herself? What if…?

He knew he shouldn't, but it wasn't like she was his greatest fan anyway. If he did this and she hated him… well, things would pretty much be the same. He stepped back, prepared to kick the door in. Then he stopped. Stepping forward, he tried the knob. Unlocked.

Nice, Lassiter, almost broke down an open door.

He let himself in and found the house in darkness. "Ravyn?" he called out. No response.

She had to be home, but the silence said otherwise. Fear kicked up his heart rate, and he moved quickly through the darkened room. He had no idea where a light switch might be.

"Shit," he muttered when his shin came in contact with a hard surface. A table. He stopped and looked around. His eyes had just begun to adjust, and he could make out shapes of the furniture. But no Ravyn.

He headed toward a set of stairs that led up to a loft. That was when he heard it: muffled crying. It couldn't be Ravyn, could it?

He stopped and turned toward the sound, followed it into the kitchen.

There she was. Although it was also dark in this room, the illumination from the LEDs on the stove and microwave gave enough light for him to see. Ravyn sat on the floor in the corner, her knees drawn up, a large white cat cradled in her arms. She wore a forest green Eskimo Joe's sweatshirt over frayed blue jeans, and her feet were bare. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and looked dull and lifeless, as if it hadn't been washed in days. Her eyes streamed and her nose was red. Her face was devoid of makeup, and she looked softer, more vulnerable without the heavy black eyeliner she normally wore.

She sneezed and then hiccupped. Nick wasn't sure if she was crying or having an allergy attack. Baffled, he went over and dropped onto the floor beside her.

She turned to him, not showing any surprise at his sudden appearance in her kitchen. "I can't do it. I can't even take care of her cat!" The words ended on a sob.

"What?"

She looked down at the animal and shook her head.

"Arthur is Sorina's cat. She loved him, but I'm allergic to cats, and I can't take care of him. She was always doing for others. The one time she needs me…" Another sob wrenched her body. She swiped a sleeve across her nose, and that one action seemed so fragile, so childlike, it rocked Nick to the core.

"Hey, it's okay." He slipped the cat out of Ravyn's grip and held it in one arm while he put the other arm around her shoulders.

She covered her face in her hands but didn't pull away. "I haven't cried since I was eight years old."

Her shoulders shook beneath his arm, and his breath caught. Small, keening wails of grief poured forth, punctuated by snuffles as she tried to catch her breath. He wanted to pull her against him, hold her tightly to his chest until she was all cried out. But he knew touching her at all was pushing it. So, he listened, keeping his touch comforting but impersonal. All the while his insides churned with sympathy, with an ache to ease her suffering, to absorb her pain.

She turned her face to him, and in the dimness he could see the swollen eyes, the red nose, the blotchy complexion. And still she was beautiful.

"Sorina said I needed to learn how to cry." Ravyn looked away and her voice dropped to a whisper. "She just didn't tell me how to stop."

Nick put the cat down and pulled her tighter into his embrace, to hell with the consequences. "Just let it out, baby. Just cry until you can't cry any more."

She let her head fall onto his shoulder. Her bones felt delicate, frail, beneath the thick material of her sweatshirt as her shoulders vibrated with sobs. The in and out of her breaths was soft and warm against his neck. He thought he'd be content to hold her like this for eternity.

Much sooner than he wished, she lifted her head and pulled away. The spot where she'd rested against him felt oddly cool and bereft.

She rubbed a hand over her nose and sneezed once more. "What am I going to do? I can't take care of him. Justin travels all the time, so he can't. And my mother…" She gave a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "She can barely care for herself."

"I tell you what. My parents live out in the country, and my mother loves animals. What if I take Arthur to her? He'll be there anytime you want to check up on him."

She turned her face to stare at him, and he saw a softness in her features he'd never seen before. "You'd do that?"

He stared down at her tear-ravaged face, the shimmering green eyes, the tiny quiver in her lower lip, and thought,
I'd
die
for you
. But Nick didn't say the words aloud. Just thinking them scared the hell out of him.

"Yeah. Sure." He stood and pulled Ravyn to her feet. He found a switch on the wall behind them and flipped on a light. She squinted and blinked at the brightness, and he wondered how long she'd been in the dark.

He opened the refrigerator and found a bottle of water. Twisting the lid off, he handed it to her. As she drank, he asked, "Have you eaten anything?"

Her brow creased. "Today?"

He sighed. "When was the last time you ate?"

She gave a little shrug. "I don't remember."

Nick went to the sink and washed his hands. He searched through the cabinets and fridge until he found soup and the makings of a grilled cheese sandwich. "Wash your hands and sit."

She did as he instructed, and when the food was done he put it in front of her. "Eat, and I'll take the cat to my parents'. They live about half an hour from here, so it will take me a little while, but I'll be back. Then we'll talk."

She nodded but didn't make an effort to eat.

"I can either wait here until you finish or go ahead and get him out of here so you can start to feel better. Promise me that if I leave, you'll eat."

"Okay." She picked up the spoon and began eating the soup. She took a bite of the sandwich.

"Will you be all right until I get back?"

She nodded and between bites said, "How long does it feel like this? I've never lost anyone. Well, not since my dad, and I was so young. How long does it hurt?"

Nick sighed. "It never completely goes away, but it gets better each day. You'll have moments when you think you're okay. Then something comes along to sucker punch you, and you never know what it will be. A song, a forgotten item tucked away somewhere, a place you've been together…"

"You're talking about your wife."

Nick's throat was tight as he nodded. "How did you know?"

Ravyn shrugged, and her gaze flicked away for a moment. "You said you didn't really have a daughter, but I could tell you were once married. And… you seem so sad all the time. Did she die?"

Nick nodded. Ravyn didn't ask how, and he didn't say. Instead, he changed the subject. "By the way, I guess you're wondering how I knew where you lived?"

"I assume it's because you've followed me here at one time or another."

Nick lifted his brow, surprised that she'd said it so matter-of-factly.

Ravyn shrugged. "You wouldn't be much of a PI if you hadn't." She managed a small grin, and Nick smiled back.

Nick was reluctant to leave her alone. After all, Sorina had been taken from Ravyn's house. But he knew if the Tin Man wanted her, he could get to her anytime. The only way to avoid that was for Nick to be with her 24-7, and he couldn't see Ravyn going for that. Plus, Sorina had gone outside, alone, in the middle of the night. Had made herself easy pickings for the madman. "I'll see you in a little while," he promised. "Eat. And lock up tight."

Ravyn's sneezing attack eased, and she showered, scrubbing her hair and letting the warm water cascade over her body. Her skin tingled as feeling returned, and it was then that she realized she'd been walking around in a daze, numb and zombielike since the day she'd seen Sorina lying lifeless in the morgue. Her heart squeezed with the pain of missing her sister, the grief a gaping hole in her soul.

Hot tears stung her eyes, but she pressed the pads of her thumbs against her closed lids and stopped them from falling. "Sorina," she moaned into the steam. "I'm so sorry."

Her anguish over her sister was compounded not only by her guilt, but by the insane wrongness of it all. Murder was an even bigger atrocity in the covens' world than in the secular world. If Sorina had died accidentally, by fate or by the natural order of things, that would be difficult enough. But her sister had been stolen by someone who had purposely, maliciously, taken her away and made her suffer. It was more than Ravyn could bear.

Stepping out of the shower, she toweled off her body and hair. Not bothering with makeup, she dressed in jeans and a black, long-sleeved pullover.

She vacuumed and dusted while waiting for Nick, getting rid of all traces of Arthur. Poor thing. He missed Sorina, too. She wanted to care for him but couldn't. She'd have to visit him as much as possible. It was the least she could do.

Nick was gone an hour and a half, and when he returned Ravyn was dismayed to find herself glad to see him. The lights were on this time, and she led him to the living room, where they both took a seat on the sofa.