Mind Sweeper (14 page)

“You okay?” he asked.

I swallowed. “Yep, you?”

He grinned. “All in a night’s work.”

Before I could move, he boxed me in, arms on either side of me. He leaned forward, his face mere inches from mine. He stared at me for a second as if asking permission. I bridged the gap and our lips met. His were surprisingly soft and full against mine. I wanted to gobble him up. Trying to remain calm, I slowed down my kissing until his lips parted and his tongue slid against my lips, asking for permission to enter. I opened my mouth, moaning slightly when his tongue began to play with mine.

I leaned further into him, pressing against his chest and threading my fingers through his hair. Holy God, it was like a religious experience. Just as I settled into the kiss, he backed away. I blinked at him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Kyle. This isn’t fair to you or Misha.”

What was he saying? My ears were buzzing. Hell, my whole body was buzzing. What the hell did Misha have to do with this?

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“This isn’t right.”

“But…”

“Don’t say anything. I don’t want either of us to regret this in the morning. Good night, Kyle.”

He walked over to his car and got in. This was ridiculous. I hurried over to him and he rolled down the passenger window.

Before I could say a word he spoke, “Misha and I need to have a talk before this can go any further.” He rolled up the window and pulled away.

I watched him drive away, my feet glued to the sidewalk. How could something backfire so horribly? Of course, I might have deserved it for trying to be conniving. I was determined, pigheaded, opinionated, yes—but conniving? I called Misha on his cell and got his voice mail. “Mish, call me as soon as you get this.”

Crap.

Chapter 13

I jerked awake, slammed my hand down hard on my alarm clock, and cringed when the plastic knob snapped and came off in my hand. I had been dreaming, but the specifics escaped me. When I reached for the memory, dread filled me like cold fingers wrapping around my spine. I shivered. Remembering the dream was not that important.

I took my phone off the nightstand and checked to make sure the battery wasn’t dead. It was fine, but Misha had still not called me back.
Great.
Dalton was too damn noble for his own good. Why did he need to talk to Misha, anyway? Even if Misha and I were seeing each other, I made my own decisions about who I got involved with.

I paused my internal rant long enough to get ready. I stopped at the bakery on the way to work to buy warm apple streusel. Since it was Misha’s favorite, I could hopefully butter him up…or at least apologize if he’d already had an awkward conversation with Dalton.

Running up the stairs to the office, the scent of apples and cinnamon trailing behind me, I plowed through front reception into the back room to find both Misha and Jean Luc there.

“Is Dalton here?”

Jean Luc smiled. “Good morning to you, too, Kyle. Dalton called. He has to deal with a police matter this morning. He plans to call in later so we can go over our case.”

I walked over to Misha. “Have you talked to him today?”

“Not yet. What have you brought me?”

I let out the breath I had been holding. “Apple streusel.”

Misha’s right eyebrow shot up. “Jean Luc, I think Kyle has done something wrong.”

“What’re you talking about?” I sputtered, plopping the box on the table with a soft thunk.

“You only bring me streusel when you need to apologize. What’s going on?”

Since when did Misha become so intuitive? “Um, you know a couple of days ago when you told me to be honest with Dalton about us?”

Jean Luc interrupted. “What exactly have I been missing?”

“Dalton thinks Misha and I are a couple.”

“Oh.” Jean Luc grinned.

I looked down and ran my fingers over the pockmarked table. “Yeah well, it gets worse. I didn’t exactly clear up the misconception.”

“Kyle…” Misha grumbled.

“Well, you didn’t help matters.”

“What do I have to do with it?”

“Let’s see. First, you make an offhanded comment about the shirt he was wearing being yours. Then Dalton overheard us on the phone the other day and you were all, ‘Kyle, you know what I like to have for breakfast,’ in your sexy Russian accent. What’s a guy to think?”

“You think my accent is sexy?”

“Mishaaaaa! Stay focused,” I groaned.

“Sorry, I don’t understand what the problem is. I thought you wanted to brush him off.”

“Yeah, well…not so much anymore.”

Misha smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Then why didn’t you just tell him the truth?”

“I was going to last night, and then he got all proper and told me he had to talk to you before we could go any farther. It was just a kiss, for cripes’ sake.”

Jean Luc laughed. I gaped at him in surprise. He was not normally much of a laugher. “
Ma petite
, you are so adorable. Why do Americans have so much trouble expressing their emotions? I shoved you both into a closet and you still are not talking to each other. I thought proximity might help matters.”

“What?” I blurted.

“It is obvious you care for each other. I personally thought it was both pragmatic and imaginative of me to put you together in the closet.”

Good God, I had my own supernatural matchmaker.

Misha nodded. “I told her the other day humans worry too much about such things.”

I gritted my teeth. “Guys. Stop being so patronizing and help me out here.”

“Did I not say this would backfire on you, little one? You should have jumped him days ago.”

“You’re right. Is that what you want to hear?”

“It’s a start.”

“Fine, I’m sorry for having dragged you into the middle of this. Now eat your damn streusel.”

I stomped out of the room to my office. It wasn’t very mature, but that was just tough. I plopped down to have a good old-fashioned pout, but then realized I hadn’t asked Jean Luc about Cowell’s journal. I walked back down the hall and slowed to a stop when Misha and Jean Luc’s conversation reached my ears.

“I owe Joe twenty,” Jean Luc groused.

“Quit your whining. I owe him fifty. I didn’t think she’d even tell what was going on, let alone apologize.”

I walked into the main area, and tried to count to ten before erupting. It didn’t work. “What the hell are you two talking about?”

Misha actually had the decency to cringe. Jean Luc shrugged at me, making my blood pressure rise even faster.

“Well,” Misha sputtered. “It was Joe’s idea. He thought we should let you confess what you had done, instead of telling you we knew what was going on.”

“Did he, now? And
when
did he come up with this glorious plan?”

“Yesterday. He asked me about our relationship. I told him the truth, and he wasn’t too happy about you lying to him.”

“He called you last night after he dropped me off?”

All of a sudden, Misha wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Misha?”

“We talked on the way to pick you up last night.”

“The low-down dog.” My face heated and I almost growled. He’d already known I wasn’t involved with Misha when we were kissing.

Misha raised his hands as if to placate me. “Kyle, take it easy. Let’s not make this worse.”

I smiled at him, which immediately ratcheted up the tension in the room.

“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word about this to him. And if you ever want me to bring you pastries again, you won’t say a word about this conversation, either.”

Misha reached for the streusel box, probably fearful I would take it away from him now. “Fine,” he replied grudgingly. “But rethink whatever you’re planning.”

Jean Luc shook his head. “It is no use, Misha. This reminds me of your soap operas. No one ever learns their lesson on those, either.”

I was ready to launch a retort, when the intercom buzzed and Dolly’s voice came over the speaker. “Joe’s on the phone asking for a status update.”

I tamped down my anger. This would have to wait. We had a job to do.

Jean Luc replied, “Thank you Dolly, we will pick it up here.” He punched the outside line. “Joe?”

“Yeah, is everyone there?”

“Yes we’re all here,” I answered as sweetly as my teeth would allow me to without sprouting a cavity.

Dalton plowed ahead. “Jean Luc, what did you get out of the book?”

“Most of the drawings are of demons. Misha was able to identify their clans with the exception of two pictures he must research further. I was correct, it is written in Latin.”

“But you have been able to interpret it?”

“Most of it, yes. It has specific, quite accurate descriptions of various demons and their traits. What will take me more time is the writing on the inside front flap. It appears to be a poem, or maybe a psalm, but it is in a language I have never seen before. Cowell was attempting to interpret it himself.”

“What did he have so far?” Dalton asked.

“He translated some of the lines, but they are not complete. It starts with
Evil thrives amongst us.
Then the word
Angels
, then some more words which are not translated, followed by the word
battle.
The next line has the word
weapon.
Then there is another stanza not translated.”

We sat silently for a minute before I spoke, “Boy, that’s sure a pick-me-up.”

“I will let you know if I can figure out the other lines.”

Dalton continued, “Misha, have you found anything else in Hampton’s computer files?”

“Nothing that looks illegal. Everything so far seems aboveboard. I was going to have Kyle help me with it today.”

Oh, joy, I could hardly wait.

“I’m going to be at the police station for most of the day, but I’ll follow up with you later.”

“Bye. Have a nice day.” I pressed the disconnect button as Misha and Jean Luc watched me warily.

* * *

I rubbed my gritty eyes and pushed away from the table. I had been sitting for too long, and the remnants of our lunch from several hours ago still lay in the open pizza box on the table. The computer files were getting us nowhere. I stood up to stretch.

“I can’t find anything in these files,” I whined.

Misha sighed. “I told you they were clean. I was hoping you would spot something I missed.”

“But, don’t you see, that’s part of the problem. The books are too clean. No one can run a business without making adjustments. There are no returns or deductions for damaged items. No shipping cost issues. There is no way these can be the real thing.”

Misha yawned and stretched as well. “So he cooked the books and we’re looking at his clean copies.”

“Yep, I should have shoved the second memory stick down my bra instead of this one.”

Misha smiled. “You were lucky to have gotten this out from under Sebastian’s nose.”

I almost shuddered at his name. “You’re right. He is one scary vampire. Speaking of vampires, where has Jean Luc run off to?”

“To follow up on the case we had with the demon twins a couple of weeks ago. He wants to make sure the parents are keeping them in line and they aren’t fighting with each other in public anymore.”

“That was a bitch, wiping half the soccer team’s memories of the boys throwing energy balls at each other.”

Misha laughed. “I think they learned their lesson.”

“Did you ever do anything like that as a baby demon?”

“I got into trouble, yes. But remember, when I was a child you didn’t have to worry about camera phones and YouTube.”

“Which is why we need your technical expertise. I don’t know what we’re going to do when something big finally goes viral.”

Misha shrugged. “People will think it’s a hoax.”

“Let’s hope so.” I filled the empty coffee carafe with water and brewed a new pot. Hazelnut filled the air. “Okay, what are our next steps?”

Misha went over to the white board and picked up a marker, writing “Cooked Books” next to Hampton’s name. “I’m going to start working on the demons in Cowell’s book I don’t recognize.”

“If they aren’t in our database, do they exist?”

“There are many things in the supernatural world we do not have documented. Cowell’s account of the other demon clans was accurate. I have listed the seven he had researched on the board. Maybe the ones I don’t recognize are not allowed out of the demon realm.”

“Like a demon who can stop a human heart?”

“Possibly,” Misha answered. “I’m going to have to leave for a while to do the next stage of my research.”

“Do you need me to tag along?” I knew damn well he was going to see his clan leader and I wouldn’t be allowed to go.

“No. You can’t come with me, Kyle.”

“One of these days I’m going to meet your Grand Poobah.”