Tempted by Fate (30 page)

“How much did you tell him?”

“Everything.”

“Are you smoking crack or something?” Morgan yelled, her eyes bulging. “He’s a
cop.
A
Homicide
cop. He could toss you in jail and throw away the key. Holy shit—he could toss
me
in jail. I’m just as complicit in all this as you are. Damn it to hell, Willow, didn’t you think about that?”

“He won’t throw you in jail.” She hoped she sounded more certain of that than she felt. She didn’t know what to expect from Ramirez at this point. “I won’t let him. You know I’ll always protect you.”

“Even if it meant hurting
him
?”

The thought of hurting Ramirez was like a stake through her heart. It wouldn’t come to that.

“I knew this was going to happen.” Morgan slammed her palm into the driver’s-side headrest. “You haven’t been acting like yourself since you met him.”

Scowling at her supposed friend, Willow unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. “Thanks for your show of support.”

What a fool. Morgan was right—she was falling off the deep end. Shaking her head in disgust, she surveyed the block and caught up to Ramirez. “Where are we going?”

“This way.” Ramirez led the way to what looked like a warehouse. Gritting her teeth, she breathed past the stabbing sensation caused by the metal around her. They took an elevator up to the top floor and rang the doorbell on an unmarked door. The door opened to reveal the blonde she’d seen Ramirez so chummy with the other night.

Great.

Like before, the strawberry blonde smiled up at him like he was a sun god. “Twice in a matter of days, Rick. My husband is going to get suspicious.”

He tugged on one of her curls. “Your husband is the one who invited me.”

Willow kept her face carefully blank. Hopefully, no one would hear her teeth grinding.

The blonde took him by the arm before she noticed Willow and Morgan behind him. Her smile was no less friendly, if a little cautious. She stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Carrie Prescott.”

Willow smelled the salty tang of marine air as she took the woman’s hand. Feeling something amiss, she probed the woman with
mù ch’i.
She didn’t get anything except the fact that the woman was pregnant.

Morgan nudged her. “Usually, when someone introduces herself, it’s polite to introduce yourself back.”

The blonde—Carrie Prescott—laughed as she withdrew her hand. “No worries. I’m used to it. My husband isn’t the most socially ept guy, either.”

“Well, I’m Morgan, and my mute friend here is Willow.”

“Come in. Max is in the living room.” She ushered them in and closed the door. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“I love tea,” Morgan said with her usual pep. “Ramirez’s grandma makes the best blend. I swear it boosted my mental alertness.”

“You’ve met his grandmother?” the blonde asked with interest.

“Yeah, since we’re kind of staying with him.” Morgan
cast a sly glance at Willow as she answered. Willow glared back at her partner. If only she had one of her dirks with her.

Carrie looked at her with increased interest, but she just said, “What can I get you, Willow?”

“Nothing. Thank you.”

Carrie slipped an arm through Morgan’s. “You can help me while they talk. It’s not like we won’t hear, anyway. The kitchen is right next to the living room.”

They walked into the main space of the loft. To one side, there was the kitchen and, just like Carrie had said, the living area took up the rest of the space. Furnished in clean, modern lines, it looked homey with splashes of color. A spiral staircase led to the second floor.

A man, presumably this Max they were there to see, stood in front of one of the couches. The shift in the air warned her a second before his energy hit her. Like that time at the bar, a shock wave reverberated through her. Unlike that time at the bar, this was a lot stronger. And more painful, like a thousand razor blades slicing her skin.

Guardian of the Book of Metal. She recognized him without introduction.

Gasping, she wanted to drop to her knees. She forced herself to endure, drawing
mù ch’i
up like a shield. She narrowed her eyes with satisfaction as he himself paled. Something in his cold gray eyes shifted. She saw his intent to withdraw his power and an offer of truce—plus, the threat she was sure he’d carry through on if she didn’t cooperate. She focused her will and drew energy inward despite the way it wanted to rise and match his. The effort left her panting for breath, sweat lining her brow.

“Willow.”

She turned her head, suddenly aware Ramirez had her in his arms.

His grip was gentle, and his concerned face frowned at her. “Are you okay?”

She managed a shaky laugh, glancing at the other Guardian. She noticed his wife had returned, resting her head on his chest as if nuzzling him into calmness. At least he didn’t look any better than she did.

Ramirez’s frown deepened, and he moved her to sit her on the couch. “Do you need water?”

She shook her head. Her stomach still roiled with the extra energy. If she had anything to drink now, she’d vomit.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

She glanced at the other Guardian. He settled onto the couch, his arms around his wife as if to protect her. His eyes gave away nothing, and he didn’t seem inclined to explain.

“Willow?”

She looked at Ramirez. “I forgot to eat. I got dizzy.”

Morgan snorted. Willow could see the disappointment written on every line of Ramirez’s face, but he didn’t push it.

“I’m going to make that tea,” the blonde said, not making a move to go anywhere. Her curious eyes were glued on Willow and Ramirez, like she was unraveling all their secrets. A blush heated Willow’s face, and she conspicuously stepped away from Ramirez.

Morgan snorted again.

“Well. Here I go.” The blonde patted her muscle-bound Guardian on the chest. “You reel it in, big boy.”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. At least not until his wife walked away. Then he turned a scowl onto Ramirez and growled. “You better have a good reason for bringing her here.”

Ramirez looked back and forth between the two of them. “I didn’t realize you knew each other.”

“We don’t,” Willow and Max replied in unison.

“Do you want to explain what that was about, then?”

“No,” they both said together, again.

Ramirez searched between the two of them, clearly not buying it. One thing was certain to Willow: he didn’t know about their Guardianship. She would have suspected this little field trip was a setup—especially given the other Guardian at the bar—but Ramirez seemed genuinely clueless as to what had just transpired.

That didn’t explain why there were two Guardians other than herself in San Francisco. Mind-boggling, to say the least. She glared at Metal, wondering what his deal was. And wondering why Ramirez believed he could help them identify the Bad Man.

Morgan elbowed her in the ribs. “Let’s try to keep the objective clear, shall we?”

Right.
Willow tried to rein herself back. The sooner they asked about the Bad Man, the sooner they could leave. It couldn’t be fast enough—her skin still crawled with the taint of his power. “Show him the picture.”

Ramirez pulled out the photograph from his pocket. If Willow had been Catholic, she would have crossed herself, the picture creeped her out so badly. His eyes seemed to follow her everywhere she went.

Ramirez handed it over to Max, who held it in his hands and studied it for a long time. Then he lowered
it and peered at her. Before Willow could ask him what he was thinking, his wife returned with cups of tea. She set a tray on the table. “I brought sugar and cream. Can I serve—”

Max pulled her down and cuddled her into his side. “They can serve themselves.”

“But, Max—”

He just squeezed her closer until she squeaked.

“
Max.
” Carrie elbowed some breathing space for herself. She gave Ramirez an apologetic look, which he shrugged off.

Willow stared daggers at him. What was up with the silent communication between Ramirez and the blonde? They may be just friends now—the Neanderthal Guardian across the room would demolish anyone who even thought about touching his wife—but that didn’t mean they hadn’t been lovers before.
Mù ch’i
stirred inside her, echoing her growing anger.

Max lifted his head as if he could scent her unease.

“Behave.” The blonde pulled her hound back.

He ignored her, instead glaring at Willow. “So let’s get this straight. I help you find out who this man is, and then you leave town?”

“Max!” His wife gasped.

Ramirez nodded calmly, seemingly undisturbed by his friend’s belligerence. “We believe he’s involved in a series of recent murders.”

“It’s got to be more than that if you’ve gone in on this with a civilian.” Max’s eyes didn’t waver from hers. “She’s not in law enforcement.”

Willow smirked. “Don’t be deceived by the leather pants. I’ve got handcuffs, and I know how to use them.”

Max leaned in, his entire demeanor as steely as his element would imply. “Let me rephrase that. You
will
leave town once this business is concluded.”

Morgan groaned. “Oh, Jesus. Ordering her is
not
a good idea.”

“
Once this business is concluded.
” As hard as Willow had worked to track down the Bad Man, it was difficult for her to imagine it being over. Morgan had asked her what she was going to do when this was all done. She’d said she didn’t know, but she found herself studying Ramirez. Not that he’d want her to stay. And actually, there was a good chance he’d try to put her away for life if everything went down the way she intended. Still, there was a part of her that wanted him to want her to stay.

Ridiculous.
She smirked at herself. “I’ll leave town when I’m ready. But I’m not looking for a turf war, so don’t work yourself into a lather.”

Max didn’t look like he believed her.

Which pissed her off. “You have no reason to distrust me. And, frankly, how do I know
you’re
not the one setting me up?”

Ramirez didn’t move, but she felt him snap to attention nonetheless. “What are you talking about?”

She didn’t look away from the other Guardian. “The inspector doesn’t have any idea, but you can hardly claim innocence. Two of you, tied so closely together? Cause for suspicion if I ever saw one.”

“What are you talking about?” Ramirez repeated.

Ramirez may not have understood the subtext, but she knew she didn’t have to spell it out for Max. He knew she was talking about him and the other Guardian from the bar, and she silently dared him to contradict her.

He didn’t.

His wife attempted to intervene. “Listen, Willow, there isn’t any—”

“Carrie,” Max said in warning.

“Don’t
Carrie
me. This is what we were talking about the other night. There’s something—”

“Not now, Carrie.”

The petite woman huffed in exasperation but didn’t say another word. Willow studied them, wondering what they’d been talking about the other night that was so sensitive she couldn’t be told.

Max waved the picture. “Is it okay if I bring Rhys in on this?”

“If that’s what it takes.” Ramirez sounded amiable, but his face was all stone.

Who was Rhys? She glanced at Morgan, who gave her a small nod.
Good.
She could always count on Morgan for information.

“I’ll get on it right away.” Max stood, obviously ending the meeting.

Willow smiled sardonically, also standing. “The sooner you’re rid of me, the better?”

“How could you tell?” he asked coolly.

“Well,” the blonde said perkily, hopping to her feet. “Hasn’t this been fun? We should do it again soon.”

Morgan grinned. “I want a ringside seat. And I’m putting ten bucks on the chick in the leather.”

If anyone had told him he’d be going to his onetime best friend, onetime enemy, for help—again—Max would have directed the person to the nearest psych ward.

“I’m so curious about Willow.” Carrie shifted in the
passenger seat, adjusting her seat belt over her barely rounded belly. “There’s something going on between her and Rick. Did you see the sparks between them? Hot.”

He’d been more distracted by the friction the other Guardian caused when she had entered the room. He’d felt it with Gabrielle, Rhys’s partner, but not this strongly. Of course, Gabrielle hadn’t grasped the full extent of her powers yet. The Wood Guardian was much stronger.

“I’ve been worried about Rick, but I have a feeling Willow is just what he needs,” Carrie continued. “She’s strong enough to stand up to him, and deviant enough to keep his life from being boring. Did you see her pants?”

Max glanced at his wife. “Do you really want me to notice another woman’s leather pants?”

She laughed, lifting his hand to her face. “You can’t keep your hands off me, and I’m getting fatter every day. I’m pretty secure in how you feel.”