Love Potion #9 (27 page)

At the touch of the solution on Cooley's skin, everything seemed to brighten for just a moment, like a flashlight was shining directly into his eyes. Then the world faded abruptly back to its usual look, as though nothing had happened at all.

But suddenly, the dog wasn't quite sure what he was doing in the neighbor's yard. Cooley just couldn't remember anything other than his sense of urgency.

A sense of urgency that now seemed inexplicable, even to Cooley.

Cooley blinked. He looked at the garden, but there was no cat in sight. Not one of his people was here and it seemed there wasn't a very good reason why he had needed to get into this yard so badly.

There was only a great big hole under the fence, and Cooley quite clearly remembered how it had gotten there.

The wolfhound had a sinking feeling that one of his people wasn't going to like the look of that at all.

He skulked across the yard guiltily and slipped through the hole. He had no sooner begun to roll in the shorn dandelions of his own yard, in an effort to get that smell out of his fur, than the garage opened into the alleyway behind.

Cooley bounded to his feet. The familiar sound of a car hummed a moment later, doors slammed, a resolute step echoed inside the garage. Before the door from the garage opened, Cooley knew exactly who had come home. He sat up straight and tried to look innocent, the tentative thump of his tail a dead giveaway that he was anything but.

 

* * *

 

It was Wednesday night and real life was calling. Mitch's feature was safely in production, after that mad last minute rush that had brought everything into question. Isabel had done a great job worming the lead they needed - albeit anonymously - out of the accountant. They hadn't been able to link the suicide and the scam with definite proof, but Mitch had found a Mountie he knew and trusted at the scene Tuesday morning.

Clearly, Mitch wasn't the only one who smelled things in the wind - the federal officer was awfully senior to be taking an interest. This morning, Mitch had faxed his notes to the Mountie, knowing dots would be connected and justice would be done.

And his article would be on the front of tomorrow's morning edition. He'd put Isabel's name on the byline without telling her and smiled in anticipation of her response. It would be her first, and she deserved it.

In a way, he enjoyed when things really hit the fan. He enjoyed the adrenalin rush of having to find another solution while the clock was ticking. But now it was done and gone - another story put to bed - and Mitch could relax.

And right now, he had a whole hour before it was time to pick up the kids. Mitch shoved work out of his mind on the drive home, reminding himself that he had a much more interesting investigation to continue - the one to which his intriguing neighbor held the key.

He rolled down his window and didn't concern himself too much with the snarl of traffic. The sunshine was wonderful, the heat of it on his arm making him feel as though he'd spent too much time inside this week.

And not had nearly enough sleep.

Mitch cut through the university, circumnavigating the moving vans. In the next week, the campus would be crowded with first-time students moving in to the dorms, jaded undergrads moved into the apartments and sub-divided houses all around the university. In a week, it would be Labour Day weekend; in a week, Mitch would be in Kansas City; in a week, Andrea would be cruising the Caribbean.

In fact, she'd been delighted when he called this afternoon, declaring that she was going to rush right out and finish shopping for her cruise.

The thought of his stepmother led Mitch's thinking back to Lilith as surely as if he followed a line of bread crumbs home. He thought about the typed summary he had compiled, safely tucked into his briefcase, and decided it was time he went for broke in one corner of his life.

It was unbelievably reassuring that Lilith wasn't trying to hoodwink anyone. It left Mitch free to enjoy her company, instead of trying to unearth her subterfuge. It left Mitch free to make Lilith laugh, to talk to her, to help her fix whatever had gone so sadly wrong.

It let Mitch do his next best thing after investigative reporting. He could fix anything and he was going to fix this.

After all, you never knew what would be lurking around the next corner, never knew what kind of trouble would blindside you unexpectedly. If nothing else, this week had reminded Mitch that things couldn't be taken for granted, that anything could change in the blink of an eye.

You had to take chances, risk going after what you really wanted or maybe lose the chance of never having it at all.

Lilith had awakened something in Mitch that he had put aside a long time ago; she had dredged up all those romantic notions of a good life and a good partnership that he was certain had nothing to do with him. Mitch didn't whether he could have those dreams, whether he deserved them, whether he had earned them.

He was going to stretch out and reach for them.

And the first step on that path was seeing Lilith's trauma healed.

In the afternoon sunlight, Mitch decided that he was going to ask Lilith for the whole story of her immortality. It would only be then, when she voiced what had to be an illogical story, that he would be able to persuade her of the fallacy of her memories. She had a sharp mind, after all, and he knew she would see the flaw in her thinking.

And then, Mitch would do his damnedest to convince Lilith to go to one of the psychologists he had found. He'd help her in any way he could - but first he had to persuade her to listen to his advice.

And that might not be very easy at all. Mitch guessed that people - especially bright people like Lilith - would not take well to being told that there was a fault in their wiring.

The discussion could go either way in Mitch's estimation, but he didn't think he had a lot of choice. It mattered a great deal to him that Lilith be healed - and that was more than worth taking a chance.

 

* * *

 

Opportunity presented itself sooner than expected. Mitch stepped out of the garage to find Cooley looking guilty and Lilith in the act of entering into his yard with a spade.

Mitch looked anxiously at the dog when Lilith smiled and waved. “Lilith, I don't think you should come in here like that,” he said by way of greeting. “Not after Cooley growled at you last weekend.”

“Oh, he's just fine now,” she said with a breezy confidence Mitch had a hard time matching.

He looked at the wolfhound whose expression immediately turned hopeful. That tail swept against the ground, but Mitch frowned.

“How can you be sure?”

“He's had another potion,” Lilith confided. Mitch noticed suddenly that Cooley was looking quite damp. The dog stood up and shook himself, launching a volley of water.

Or something. The wolfhound smelled even worse than he usually did when Mitch finally hosed him down. “What happened?”

Lilith laughed. “Cooley came visiting. But he got an unexpected bath.” Her explanation didn't exactly make everything crystal clear, but Lilith started shoveling dirt back into a hole that Mitch only just noticed.

Cooley wedged himself into the darkest shadow beside the garage and put his nose on his paws, his gaze fixed expectantly on Mitch.

Nothing like a couple of points getting together to make a line. Mitch suddenly had a very good idea how that hole had come to be.

He dropped his bag and crossed the yard with long steps to Lilith's side. “Let me do that,” he insisted, taking the spade from her. “And you can explain all this to me again.”

Lilith stepped back slightly - not enough to stop her perfume from making Mitch's toes curl - and eyed him carefully. “You look tired,” she said softly.

Mitch offered her a rueful smile. “Comes with the territory of putting a story to bed. Some of them wrestle like cranky three-year olds.”

She smiled, then watched Mitch shovel. “Do you do this often?”

Mitch glanced up and shrugged. “It happens.” Lilith's eyes were shadowed with concern and Mitch's heart took a little leap at the sight. It had been a while since anyone worried about him - that was
his
job - but Mitch liked the feeling just fine. He smiled, but Lilith didn't look particularly reassured.

Mitch knew only that he had to make her smile again. He adopted his best Foghorn Leghorn accent. “Fortunately, I keep my feathers numbered for just such an emergency.”

To his relief, Lilith chuckled. The sun shone down on them, the yard was filled with the lazy sounds of a summer afternoon, and Mitch didn't want to go anywhere anytime soon. He realized that there was a tranquility to be found in Lilith's presence, a respite from the world and all its woes.

And he liked that just fine.

“The good news is that I have more flexibility these days,” Mitch continued easily, enjoying the fact that he could discuss this with her. “I worked here the last couple of nights, after the kids were in bed. Thank God for laptops and modems.” He smiled. “And Andrea, my nearly-resident lifesaver.”

Lilith's smile broadened. “You love it.”

Mitch grinned at her. “Yeah, I do,” he admitted. “As long as it doesn't happen all the time.”

“I'll bet you're good at what you do,” she suggested with a confidence in that fact that made Mitch's heart take off at a gallop. He stared at her, unable to remember when anyone other than his father had expressed such confidence in his abilities.

“You can judge for yourself in the morning,” he said, less lightly than he might have hoped. “First edition, front page. That's my alibi for not cropping up over the last few days.”

And Lilith smiled. “I was concerned,” she confessed.

“Don't be. I don't take as many chances as I used to.” They smiled at each other for a long, sultry moment, then Mitch turned back to the task at hand.

He shoveled the last of the dirt into the hole, well aware of Lilith watching him. Mitch drove the spade into the ground, then rested his elbow on the handle to survey Lilith.

He wasn't in a huge hurry to leave. “So, 'fess up,” he demanded with a smile. “What did happen here?”

Lilith turned to Cooley, who inched closer on his belly. The dog certainly didn't seem to have the same animosity towards Lilith he had shown before.

Which was pretty weird, come to think of it. What had gotten into the wolfhound lately?

Fortunately, Lilith was prepared to explain.

“After Cooley drank too much of that love antidote last weekend, he disliked me.” Her voice was low and very easy to listen to. Mitch felt the last bit of tension ease out of his shoulders. “It wasn't his fault that he growled, the potion was too strong. Apparently, he took it upon himself to continue the hunt this week.”

Before Mitch could ask, Lilith gestured to the hole.

“Fortunately, after some thinking, I came up with just the right potion.”

Mitch sensed the story was being edited heavily. He wondered what the dog had done when he reached the other side today and suspected he would never know.

“I dumped it on him and it worked like”- Lilith grinned and snapped her fingers –“magick.”

Despite his own skepticism, Mitch couldn't stop his own smile. “Magic, eh?”

“Absolutely. Just watch.” Before Mitch could stop her, Lilith stretched out a hand and beckoned to the wolfhound. Cooley raced across the yard at this small encouragement, but there was no reason for Mitch to intervene.

The dog licked Lilith's fingers and wagged his tail so hard that he could hardly keep his balance.

Mitch tried to keep his mouth from falling open.

She couldn't be right. There was no such thing as magic, nothing remotely logical about potions. They were placebos, at best, the belief that they worked being responsible for any results.

Which left the question of how Lilith could convince a dog that a potion worked.

Mitch couldn't reason that through, but knew it was only because he was tired. It was sleight of hand of some kind, Lilith's belief in magic just a necessity to protect her cover story.

“Aren't you glad?” Lilith asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Mitch reached down and scratched the dog's ears. “Good to have you back to normal, ol' boy.” Cooley nuzzled Mitch's knee and thumped his tail against Mitch's legs, his usual self in every way.

What was more important was how Mitch was going to raise the subject he really wanted to talk about.

“You seem distracted,” Lilith commented when Mitch didn't say anything else. “Would you like to talk about it?”

It was the best opening he could have had. Mitch glanced to his watch, seeing that he didn't have long to get to the daycare. He'd never get through this in five minutes!

“Well, it's a long story,” he began, wondering whether they could meet after he got back.

But Lilith smiled outright. “And who has more time on their hands than an immortal, hmm?”

Mitch looked up in surprise. It was as though she had read his thoughts, but then it was hardly the first time he'd had that feeling with Lilith. Talk about cutting to the chase - Mitch decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“You've got to admit that's a pretty uncommon claim,” he said carefully.

Lilith nodded. “True. The secret of immortal life
is
carefully guarded. Do you know what would happen if the elixir fell into the wrong hands?”

Mitch declined to pursue that line of wild speculation. “So, how did you find it?”

Lilith shook her head with a smile. “Not
found
. I earned the right to a sip, after seven years in the tutelage of a company of sorcerers.”

“This would be after you left the Gypsies?”

“Yes, I traveled west, as Dritta had counseled me.” Lilith frowned, apparently in recollection. “She had heard of these people and told me to seek them, that my Gift would help me find them.”