Demons are a Ghoul's Best Friend: Afterglow, Book 2 (3 page)

BOOK: Demons are a Ghoul's Best Friend: Afterglow, Book 2
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“Got me by the short hairs, huh?” She growled at him, irritated at his high-handed assumptions.

“Not yet.” He chuckled. “You’ll know when that happens, trust me.”

“Yeah. Right.” Scoffing, Pandora leaned back. “Dream on.”

“Oh I do. So will you.”

Ignoring his cryptic comment, she turned her head and blinked as she recognized where they were headed. “You live up here?” The quiet street was flanked with smaller homes, not flashy but not inexpensive, either.

“Yes.”

“Don’t take this wrong, but I’m surprised.”

He smiled. “Yeah. Detectives shouldn’t be able to afford a house here. Of course, if the politicos would vote us a decent pay raise, maybe that myth could die a natural death.” He shrugged. “My family left me the house. It’s paid for, so I can afford it.”

“Lucky you.” She suppressed a dart of envy. She liked her condo in the city, but would have loved to live in one of these properties. However, given the way things were, it was an unlikely occurrence, since cohabitation with nature wasn’t a wise idea. Not for her, anyway. She contented herself with looking at the neat and abundant gardens, which cleverly screened most of the actual residences from prying eyes.

She swallowed as he turned the car into a driveway leading beneath softly waving willow branches. Her skin itched lightly as the sunlight dappled the car, fractured by leaves and branches and blurred by their movement in the morning breeze.

“Home sweet home.” He killed the engine and got out of the car.

Pandora followed, breathing deeply, inhaling the wonderful scents of green growing things and the dusky undertone of soil and mulch. Her senses tingled, her arms ached to stretch out and embrace it all and her face turned upward to the sky.

“You like the country, huh?”

Instantly she pulled herself together. “Very much.” It was short, pithy and as much as he was going to get until her mind reassembled itself.
This
was why she remained permanently ensconced in a world of concrete and steel.

He hadn’t asked her what kind of AG she was, even though he had to have noticed the little blue mark on her ear. She had her story ready, of course. She was a fairy. And it was close enough to the truth that she could say it with assertive confidence. She
was
a Fae. Sort of. She’d grown up knowing it and accepting her Fae ability.

She just wasn’t a very
good
one, but then again one couldn’t be perfect at everything. No feathery wings or desire to flutter in the moonlight, just an incredible connection with living, growing things. She’d put it down to some offbeat variety of Fae empathic talent and left it at that, preferring to focus on the cut-and-dried business of law.

Until the night she’d turned into a tree and realized the awful truth.

Pandora Jackson wasn’t just a lawyer and a Fae, she was a
dryad
.

Cheney hadn’t missed the blissful expression that had crossed Pandora’s lovely face as she emerged into his front garden. For a few seconds the light had seemed brighter around her, almost like a delicate shimmering aura, tiny leaves of brilliance trembling from her skin.

Beautiful to begin with, she was almost ethereal in the sunlight. And even more sexually desirable. What she’d look like without the concealing suit and with her fiery hair down—well, mortal men probably would have gone to war just for the chance to look at her, and Helen of Troy would’ve ordered up a batch of the latest beauty products.

He yanked his brain from his crotch and nodded at the door. “Come on. Let’s go meet the family.”

She walked silently beside him into the house, making no comment—for which he was grateful. He hadn’t brought her here to admire his lack of taste in furniture or his eclectic assortment of art, ranging from a rock band poster to an antique velvet painting of Elvis he’d scrounged from a yard sale one weekend when he’d had a serious hangover that had clearly affected his thought processes.

“Roz?” His voice elicited a clatter from the kitchen. “It’s me.”

“Good Lord, Cheney, you startled me.” Roz emerged with a cloth in her hands, only to stop short at the sight of his companion. “Ms.
Jackson
?”

“Hello, Mrs. Hammond. Good to see you again.”

Roz glanced uncertainly from Pandora to Cheney. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course.” He reached out and patted Roz’s shoulder. “Ms. Jackson and I have some business to discuss, and I thought I’d bring her over here so she can meet the family.” He grinned. “She likes dogs.”

“Oh good.” The older woman’s face creased into a smile. “They’re out in the garden. They’ve had breakfast so I figured it was time for a romp in the sunshine.” She shifted her attention to Pandora. “Nothing like some outdoors time, no matter whether it’s dogs or kids.”

Pandora nodded back. “I couldn’t agree more. How’s Mr. Hammond?”

The two women exchanged civil pleasantries while following Cheney down the tiled passageway to the rear of the house. “Any chance of some iced tea, Roz?” He opened the door for Pandora.

“Of course, dear. Fresh brewed, just the way you like it.”

“You spoil me.” He winked at her and she chuckled back, taking the door handle from him and making sure it was closed behind them as she stayed inside.

“That woman is an absolute joy.” Cheney looked around. “I didn’t need to tell her we needed privacy or explain why you’re here. She’s a rare bird.”

Pandora opened her mouth to answer, but the words were drowned out by a rush of yapping and barking fur that resolved itself into two puppies frolicking around his ankles.

He squatted down. “Hey, guys.” Two heads butted his hands, and he laughed as he tugged ears, rubbed noses and generally said hello to the bundles of multicolored fluff jumping up and down for his attention.

Beside him, he could
almost
hear the “Awww” sound that women tend to make when confronted with warm cute fuzzy things. Although Pandora managed to restrain herself, she couldn’t help squatting next to him and chuckling as one pup eagerly nudged her hand with its nose.

“They’re adorable. And they probably know it.”

He glanced at her as she spoke, getting a first glimpse of the woman beneath the businesslike legal façade.

There was light shimmering behind her breathtaking blue irises, laughter bringing character and charm to her perfect face. She was almost surreally beautiful at this moment—and totally unaware of the effect she was having on him. A strand of hair blew free from her tight knot, tumbling around one ear in a slash of flame-colored heat.

She took his breath away each time he looked at her and saw something new. Which seemed to happen each time he looked at her. If he wasn’t so fascinated by her, it could get to be frickin’ annoying.

“What do you do? How do you care for them?” She turned inquisitive eyes to his face.

“Would you like to see?”

He knew she didn’t realize the magnitude of his offer. He’d never shared this experience with anyone, preferring to keep his talents under wraps for the most part. Excluding those moments when an illusion was called for, of course. Like during a seduction. It worked
really
well at times like those. Especially the pirate captain one…

Her eager assent drew him back from those ever-present lustful images and he extended a hand. “Hold on and relax.”

She settled onto the grass, heedless of her suit, watching him intently.

“Close your eyes.”

“Okay.” She followed his instructions.

Cheney made himself comfortable and closed his eyes too. Within seconds a door in his brain opened and the illusion he created just for his pups took shape. Only this time, he wasn’t alone.

A gasp from beside him let him know that Pandora was there too, seeing what he was seeing.

They were still in his garden, but the house had vanished. It was now more of a woodland glade, fresh and full of the sounds of nature. He turned his head and smiled.

Through no conscious effort on his part, she’d undergone a wardrobe change. She was now clad in a soft white low-cut gown of some sheer floaty stuff which clung to her generous curves. Her hair fell in great waves of fire down to her waist.

She glanced down at herself and then back up at Cheney, a look of astonishment on her face.

He grinned, enjoying himself enormously. It was warm and sunny where they sat, yet her nipples were hard, budding sharply through the white silky fabric that covered them.

Dude. You so rock.

Chapter Three

Pandora’s senses were reeling as her brain attempted to process the impossible. “What is this? Where are we?”

“Still in the garden.” Cheney sat comfortably, looking at her.

“I don’t understand…”

“I’m an illusionist, Ms. Jackson. That’s my AG talent. I can take what’s in people’s dreams, thoughts, sometimes their subconscious feelings, and create a pseudo-reality from it.”

“You mean this isn’t real?”

“It’s real enough. You can do pretty much everything here you’d do anywhere. The flowers smell good, the earth is hard. It’s kind of an alternate reality, I suppose. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

She shook her head, forgetting her hair was loose, and then tucked a lock behind one ear with a mutter of annoyance. “I’ve never heard of anything like this before.”

“What can I say?” He spread his hands. “I’m one of a kind.”

“Yeah.” She snorted. “Right down to the choice of clothing.” She had noticed that he’d managed to keep his outfit intact.

“Forgive me.” He grinned unrepentantly. “I couldn’t resist seeing you like this. Indulge me, okay?”

“Hmph.” She snorted. Okay, it was a nice dress, but she really wasn’t accustomed to wearing anything resembling a fairy-tale princess gown. “You didn’t pull this from my head.”

“No.” He looked away. “This is one of mine. A simple readjustment of our surroundings that makes them feel more at home.”

Pandora followed his gaze and another gasp choked in her throat.

Walking toward them were two young children. At least they were close to being young children. The taller one, a boy, was grinning, moving quickly to Cheney through the grass.

The smaller child approached on all fours.

Pandora swallowed. She’d formed a vague image of what Cheney did and how he did it, but this surpassed anything she could have imagined. The boy sported a lush wagging tail and the little girl—well, the face was there but the rest of the body was still a puppy.

“Hey you two. Come and say hello to my friend Pandora.” He held out his hand to the boy. “Pandora, this is Rusty.”

“Hi, Rusty.” Pandora smiled at him. “Nice to meet you.”

“You’re pretty.” The boy tipped his head to one side. “Wanna see me throw the ball?” He looked longingly at a well-used ball on the grass.

“In a minute, Rusty.” Cheney ruffled his hair. “Lucy, don’t be shy. Come and give me a hug.”

Pandora’s heart clogged her throat as she watched the little creature creep hesitantly to him. “Hi, Cheney.” She snuggled against his knee and looked shyly at Pandora.

“Lucy’s doing great, Pandora. She’s almost managed to change by herself.” He stroked the little girl’s soft blonde hair.

“I can. I can, Cheney. Watch.” Tiny features wrinkled into a grimace as she groaned and grunted. Before Pandora’s astounded gaze, shoulders and arms emerged, replacing the front paws of the puppy.

“Attagirl. That’s fantastic.” Cheney applauded.

Pandora found herself following suit. “Gosh, that’s amazing, Lucy.”

A smile crept over the tiny face and Pandora fought back tears. This was—heartrending.

“I like your hair.”

Rusty was about to tug a handful, but Cheney managed to grasp his arm gently and disentangle him. “Pandora is pretty, isn’t she?” Emergency averted, he nudged Rusty. “Go play with your ball, buddy. I can’t stay too long right now, but I’d love to see that famous Rusty pitch of yours.”

“’Kay, Cheney. We gonna play tonight?”

“If I get home before you’re both in bed, sure.” He laughed. “No promises though.”

“I hope you do, Cheney.” Lucy stood awkwardly, balancing herself on her back legs and hugging his neck with her chubby arms.

“I’ll try, sweetheart.”

Pandora’s mind seethed with questions, but something about the idyllic surroundings stilled her tongue and she watched, simply enjoying the sight of youngsters at play.

It didn’t seem odd when Cheney’s hand grasped hers and held it for a few moments. “Thank you.”

She didn’t know what he was thanking her for. She felt she should thank him for this brief glimpse into a world where all was light and happiness. So strange, so unique—and, sadly, so short lived.

“We have to go now.” He squeezed her fingers.

“Okay.” She wanted to say no. To beg for a few more minutes. To stay and play with Rusty and Lucy, to throw the ball, to leave everything and everyone behind. It was a seductively simple scene, yet she knew she’d never forget it.

Doing none of the things she wanted, she did what she had to. She closed her eyes and let the illusion disappear.

“Well, what do you think?”

His voice was calm and businesslike, and she opened her eyes to find herself back in her own clothes, still sitting on his back lawn watching two puppies in the sunshine.

“I think I have a helluva lot of questions.” She organized her thoughts, frowning as she tried to figure out what to ask him first.

He beat her to it. “I meant do you think something like this will help your problem pup?”

She blinked. “Uh—I suppose so.” It was a difficult question to answer. “I take it you created that illusion for them. It wouldn’t be something they came up with on their own, right?”

“Correct.” He nodded. “Come on, let’s get a glass of iced tea and discuss our options.”

She accepted the hand he held out as he stood and let him pull her to her feet. There was strength in his grip, not totally unexpected but enough to tell her there were muscles under the casual jacket even though Cheney appeared tall and lean.

“By the way.” She brushed grass from her skirt as he glanced at her. “I liked the dress.”

“Me too.” He chuckled and led her into the house.

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