Devil's Own (2 page)

“What did Florian do?”

“While we were away on our honeymoon, he had my lease terminated and moved all my things into the mansion. I had a wonderful luxury suite in an exclusive apartment building, rent-controlled and everything. I was
not
happy.”

“You weren’t planning to live with him?”

Angelina huffed a little. “Of course I was! But to a woman like myself, an apartment is an investment. I had intended to keep it in my name, perhaps while subletting.” Her brow creased more. “But obviously that was no longer an option. And Florian’s strange behavior…. I met the family, and they must have noticed Florian’s conduct.”

“And?”

“And nothing. They all acted as if nothing was wrong. As though his grumpiness and speaking in weird languages right in front of them was completely commonplace! It was just so unbelievable.” Angelina shook her head, and yet her hairdo barely moved.

“What impressions did you get from the family members?”

“Well, Goddard you know about. Farrah, the wife, she seemed a little… off.” Angelina rolled her eyes and simply said, “I’ve seen that kind of look before. She was taking medication. Probably Xanax, Valium, some such. Millicent was the grand queen of the estate, standing guard over the family legacy, quite cold and unapproachable. Ida was shocking in many ways. She’s strikingly beautiful but in a crass sort of way, and she made no attempt to hide the fact that she was flirting with
me
! Right in front of my husband—who is her brother! Can you believe it?”

Niall saw she was affronted by what had happened and considered it unseemly. He merely nodded, coaxing her to continue with his silence.

“Then there are the cousins. Henrietta Devin is a woman with a nervous disposition, and she flinches at every raised voice and loud sound. Oswald Marsden is a bean pole of a man, tall and lanky, and gray somehow. You know, boring and inconspicuous. I did not like him. Nola, however, is an amazing woman of the world, knowledgeable and exotic, and we had a lovely chat. She was the only one I felt any kind of connection with. Perhaps because she isn’t close family, you understand. I admit, partly to my shame, that I am glad there are no children in the Talbot lineage.”

“Apart from their disinterest in Florian’s odd behavior, was there anything else to arouse your suspicions?”

Angelina took a deep, calming breath, and her right hand brushed over her heart, as if to still its pounding. “It started immediately after dinner when we were in the drawing room having drinks. Ida asked loudly if I was going to be initiated into the coven. I was too stunned to speak, of course.”

“Of course.”

“I mean, I had no idea about my husband’s, um, religious beliefs. Florian had never indicated he had faith in anything but himself. Ida started laughing, as if it was all a joke, and for a moment I thought so too. But then Millicent and Oswald both started nodding, and they both said I could not enter into the family without being initiated. I naturally demanded Florian tell me what was going on. And….” Angelina swallowed, and she looked frightened. “And that was when I saw a side of Florian I had never seen before. He stared at me with those peculiar eyes, and his smile…. God, that cruel, cold grin, as if my being upset and anxious amused him!” She shuddered violently, tears in her eyes. Quickly, she lowered her face to cover up her wiping them.

It was a private moment, and Niall looked away in consideration but went on in a low, soothing voice. “What happened next?”

Angelina sighed. “I decided that it was some kind of twisted welcome party, and Florian was my husband after all, so I… I lived there for two months.” She straightened herself up visibly. “But no longer. You see, Mr. Valentine, after that evening everything just got weirder and scarier. I heard noises in the night, whispering that seemed to come from outside in the hall, in the walls, and even inside the bedroom itself. Florian was gone from my bed almost as much as he was there, gone most all of the night. I felt like someone had been going through my things when I wasn’t there. The family spoke in low tones, and they stopped when I entered the room, watching me. It was… I didn’t feel like I belonged there. I was an outsider.”

“What happened to bring you to me?”

“Two things,” Angelina explained, in control of herself again. “Three days ago I met Ella and Titus. Florian introduced us in the garden. She is a quirky little thing, barely legal, kind of a hippy, giggling and dancing about in her summer dress. A bit simple, I think. But Titus…. He gave me the shivers. His eyes reminded me of Florian’s, always watching, almost never blinking, just staring. But where Florian is charismatic, Titus is… not. He didn’t smile; he didn’t speak. He just stood there or followed us around like a shadow. Creepy, I thought.”

“Titus was the reason you—”

“Not just his staring. It was the way they were talking. They spoke of black masses, old gods, ritualistic sex, and blood sacrifices. They talked about these things like other people speak about the weather. Florian claimed it was merely hypothetical, but….”

When her voice trailed off, as if she had no intention of continuing, Niall asked, “But what, Mrs. Talbot?”

“Last night Florian was gone from my bed again. I went to sleep, but I woke up at two in the morning when he came in. He….” Angelina cleared her throat loudly, her face pale and her eyes wide, like a startled animal. “Florian was wearing a black silk robe, but it was open in the front, and I could see he was naked underneath. And… there was blood on him, dripping off his skin. And in his hand, there was a knife, drenched in blood.” Her voice cracked, and a soft sob escaped her lips.

Niall leaned forward, worried now. This sounded serious. “Did he…?”

“Oh, no. Florian didn’t hurt me. I didn’t give him a chance. You see, when I saw him, I started screaming. Then he laughed at me, like it was all a big joke. Then he said something in that weird tongue of his, and he came toward me. I saw it in his eyes. A kind of lust. But not for sex, for… blood and death.” Angelina shook her head to clear her focus back to the here and now. “I’m afraid I grabbed the lamp from the nightstand and hit him with it. I jumped out of bed, put on my robe and slippers, grabbed my cell phone, and ran out. On my way out, I saw Ida by the landing, and she was making out with a half-naked Ella. I think I saw Titus watching from a shadowy corner. I also saw Farrah’s door close, but not before I had seen her face, blank and indifferent. I concluded they were all mad, that I was in a madhouse, so I ran outside, called a cab, then the police, and went straight to a friend’s place. I’ve been there ever since.”

Niall rubbed his jaw, going over what he had learned. “Has Florian tried to call you or find you?”

“Yes, he has called several times, but no, he hasn’t tried to find me. I don’t—” It was painfully obvious she did not want to be found by her husband in person.

“Until we figure out what he wants from you, it might be safer to keep your distance,” Niall said. Angelina nodded in complete agreement. “All that you’ve told me, Mrs. Talbot, it’s fascinating, but I’m not exactly sure what you want from
me
. I’m only a PI. Shouldn’t the police—”

“I’ve already spoken to the police and filed a report.” Angelina sounded angry now, as if her honor had been insulted. But Niall soon realized he wasn’t the cause of this feeling. “Based on my statement, the police went to the mansion soon after the call. They spoke to Florian, who claimed he’d been carving a bloody steak. At two in the morning! That was the most ridiculous—” She took control of her rising pitch and calmed down. “Florian told the police I had probably had a nightmare. Millicent and Ida both confirmed what Florian had said about the steak and about my nightmares, as if they were a common occurrence. I do
not
have nightmares, Mr. Valentine. I did
not
imagine what I saw.”

Niall leaned back in his chair, puzzling over the conundrum. “What do you believe your husband is responsible for?”

Angelina swallowed hard, panting a bit. “I think he might have… hurt someone. I need to be sure, you understand. He had murder in his eyes that night, I swear it.”

“You want to be sure—for what reason? To go back to him?”

“No.” That single emphatic word spoken in a firm, decisive tone held no room for misunderstanding. “Absolutely not. I’ve filed for divorce today—irreconcilable differences—after the police told me what Florian had said about me, as though I were some hysterical female. Even an annulment is not out of the question. There is no chance in this world I will return to Florian Talbot. If I do, then I’ve been taken over by the pod people or something.”

 Niall suppressed a smile at that remark.

 “Mr. Valentine,” she continued, “I only wish to know with absolute certainty my soon-to-be ex-husband hasn’t harmed anyone. That bloody steak story is insane. I cannot be sure he wanted to hurt me, but I felt death pass me by that night.”

Thinking about it, Niall had to reach the conclusion that this case would be a nonstarter. The family would be suspicious of Niall no matter what role he took, and they would close ranks like a stalwart little military unit. He couldn’t ask them anything with the expectation of getting any answers. There simply was nowhere to go from here. Yes, he could keep an eye on the family and coven and find out if any of them had gone missing, but that would not be easy. It would be time-consuming and—

“Please, Mr. Valentine,” Angelina pleaded, her tone as sad as her expression. “I might not have any nightmares, as I’m not that squeamish, but recent events have interfered with my peace of mind. I am concerned Florian has gone off the deep end and done something too horrible to contemplate. If there’s even a chance that he…. Name your price, Mr. Valentine. I’m a rich woman, and I am determined to find out the truth about all these strange things. If you will not help me, I’m sure I can find another private investigator in Seattle who will.”

It wasn’t a threat, per se, but the stubborn jut of her delicate chin was enough to assure Niall that Angelina Talbot wasn’t going to back down on this. “I’ll see what I can find out. But….”

“Yes?”

“If I find nothing in one week—”

“Two weeks.” Clearly Angelina was born to negotiate.

Niall smiled politely, bowing his head slightly. “Fine. If I find nothing in
two
weeks, we’ll close this case for good. You get your divorce and forget the man and everything to do with him. Just move on. Agreed?”

Angelina didn’t look happy about it, but she nodded. “Fine. Two weeks.” She took her checkbook from her purse and wrote out a check with a substantial number on it. “This is to start with. If you require anything else, please don’t hesitate to contact me.” She placed the check on Niall’s desk, and on top of it, she placed her simple white calling card with gold lettering. Then she rose elegantly, a true lady if there ever was one. “Thank you, Mr. Valentine.”

As he shook her hand good-bye, Niall said, “Don’t thank me yet.”

“A
H
,
THE
conquering hero returns,” Gus said with a happy smile as he watched his boyfriend of four weeks walk in through the front door of his Wiccan shop, The Four Corners.

Niall Valentine grinned and winked. “A hero, eh? How come I’m not getting a hero’s welcome then? Where’s my hearty kiss?”

Gus chuckled, shaking his head so that his blond curls waved about, framing his face, a face that Niall annoyingly called cute. Well, Gus figured it was still better than pretty. “Sorry, no making out during business hours.”

Sauntering confidently to the counter, Niall pursed his lips, seemingly full of thought. “What about that make-out session in your stock room two days ago during lunch hour?”

Gus felt his cheeks burn, and he glanced around. There were two young witches in the shop, but they stood in the back, arguing amicably over using standard crystals versus birthstones during a full-moon ritual. Gus licked his suddenly dry lips. “That was an accident. Not one we’re about to repeat anytime soon.”

“Aw, now you’re just trying to make me feel bad,” Niall whined, but his cocky grin never wavered. “Tease.”

Gus was going to say it was untrue, as he always put out, but he couldn’t say so for the simple reason that apart from some hot groping, fully clothed grinding, and a few make-out sessions, they hadn’t really done anything. No penetration as of yet, even though it had been a month since they had begun dating. Every time they started to have sex, something got in the way. Work, mostly. Which meant they typically became too hot and bothered to be patient for anal sex.

Niall Valentine, PI, was as gorgeous as ever, Gus thought as he admired the tall, lean, and lithe masculine beauty before him. As usual, Niall’s clothes—gray suit with a blue tie, simple boots, and a dark-hued trench coat—were as shaggy as his tousled dark hair and his five o’clock shadow. His slightly hunched stance made his shoulders appear even broader, and his usual habit of standing astride gave the impression of control. His blue eyes shone bright and sharp as steel in sunshine, only reaffirming the air of hidden power. Underneath that casual, even flirty, approach hid a military man, and more than likely one with a few guns to boot.

“C’mere, and I’ll show you who’s a tease,” Gus entreated, giving Niall a come-hither chin lift.

Niall chuckled, leaned over the counter, and kissed Gus on the lips. Gus tasted coffee from Niall’s dry lips, and the touch was soft and chaste. This wasn’t a “God, rip my clothes off and fuck me right here over the counter” kind of kiss. It was a tender gesture between boyfriends in public.

Niall might have purred a little. “Mmm, nice. When do you get off?”

“Same as always.” Gus rolled his eyes playfully.

“Damn.” Niall’s appreciative gaze swept over Gus’s body, and as if it had actually been touched, Gus’s body reacted. His groin heated like a pool of lava, and his cock began to harden in his jeans.