The Sorceress Screams (2 page)

Desmond’s
usually hooded aqua eyes shot wide the moment I emerged from the door marked
“Employees
Only
”. His fleshy lips—the likes of which
could be seen only on the marble masterpieces of Michelangelo—parted in
surprise.

As always he
wore a tailored suit over his sinewy body. This one was made of a gray, black,
and white plaid fabric that complimented his cropped blue-black hair and pale
skin. The crisp, snowy collared shirt beneath was folded with a perfect crease.
A gray and black narrow striped tie was knotted tightly to his neck. A sign, I
suspected,
that he didn’t know how to relax.

His gaze fixed
on my hair, and his mouth opened as if to speak. Nothing came out. Desmond
closed his lips tightly together atop a long breath. I sensed a struggle from
him courtesy of latent Water magic, but I couldn’t be sure why. Without an
empathic link, I could only sense extreme emotions. This struggle rated as
extreme?

Another half a
minute passed before Desmond spoke. And when he did, it was in a soft, but
professional tone. “
Viho
told me he
Healed
you last night.”

Oh
.

This time it
was
my
eyes that widened.

Desmond had
rushed over here after speaking with the leader of the Healers of America, and
he’d screamed my nickname … for what purpose? Had he been worried for me?

No. The only
things Desmond cared about were having complete control over everything in
Wipuk
and the crystal he’d seen once in my display case.
Kali’s
Candle was a bit of an obsession of his. But I’d
sold it to Nell for a dollar simply to keep it out of his hands.

“What
happened?” Desmond asked.

Irritation
that I’d wanted him to give a shit about me had me snapping. “
Viho
didn’t tell you that?”

His rigid
frame stiffened a hair. “
Viho
told me you’d been
burnt and had a concussion. He didn’t know what happened. Did de Sole hurt
you?”

By the forward
momentum of his thighs, Desmond gave off the impression of eagerness. He wanted
a reason to go after Maximo de Sole? I couldn’t help him this time.

“No. He saved
me,” I said. “
Ascencion
wanted a little payback.”

I’d set her on
fire for trying to bite me. In my defense, I’d warned her not to lay a fang on
me. She hadn’t listened.

Desmond’s eyes
slid shut. They remained closed for five seconds.

A moment of silence for the dearly departed?
The idea of him feeling anything but fury for
Ascencion
ticked me off.

And it made me
say something I probably should have kept to myself. “She enthralled me,
Marino.”

His bright
eyes snapped open wider than I’d ever seen them. Desmond’s nostrils flared while
his lips formed a thin line I’d have thought impossible on his face. As if the
picture weren’t proof enough, his hot anger flowed over my skin.

He spoke
almost too quietly to hear. “Is she dead?”

“I think so.”

“You
think
? Being enthralled is serious
business. She’d have complete control over you!”

Considering
the topic, his question was rather tactless. I didn’t hesitate to give him a
sour answer. “I don’t kill people, Marino. I didn’t see it happen.”

His rounded
eyes narrowed into his angrier, hooded expression—one I saw far too often.
Perhaps Desmond had worked out that Maximo de Sole had killed his girlfriend of
at least a century to save
me
.

Desmond’s face
evened out to his neutral expression. “You’re okay?” There was little
indication of whether or not he cared.

“
Viho
Healed me. The only permanent damage from the fight
was my hair.”

His gaze
flicked to my head. Desmond’s expression morphed as if he’d sucked on a
particularly powerful Sour Patch Kid.

Great
.
As if I hadn’t disgusted him enough
when I’d had my fairly sedate style.

He glanced at
the employee only area. His lips twisted as though he’d seen something he didn’t
like. “Is Nell here?”

I resisted the
smirk I wanted to make. My employee had saved me from many an uncomfortable
discussion with this male. “She’s downstairs.
Probably
listening in.”

He pushed an
irritated breath through his nose. And then his attention switched back to me.
Desmond’s volume dropped below a whisper. “I’d like your phone number.”

If he was so
embarrassed by me that he had to whisper the request, then why had he bothered
asking?

Oh
. I was an idiot. He
didn’t want Nell to know we were colluding.

Truth be told,
I didn’t want her to know either. I wasn’t sure I wanted to join forces with
him in the first place. He’d made the suggestion a few days ago during the date
he’d won with me for charity. I hadn’t given him a clear answer, mostly because
I needed to sit down and seriously think it through.

A tapping
noise drew my attention to Desmond’s thigh. His fingers rapped a beat on the
smooth fabric. I’d seen him engage in the impatient action when I’d magically
sifted through his clothing’s memories, but I’d never seen it in person. That
mustn’t go over well with clients.

I pushed off
my back foot, looking for a scrap of paper and a pen. Before I set the ink down
onto the page, I fixed my eyes on him. “Did you blackball my shop?”

Desmond lifted
a dark, flat eyebrow.
“Hmm?”

My face
flushed because now that I had to explain myself, I felt foolish accusing him.
“No one will visit the
Wipuk
shop, but plenty visit
the Sedona storefront. Did you have anything to do with that?”

The slight
twitching of his lips sent my teeth into a taught snap. He was
amused
!

“I didn’t have
to do anything,” he said.

He was telling
the truth. That
sucked
.

Again his
volume softened. “Help me, and I’ll help you.”

I didn’t want
Desmond manipulating people into coming to my shop. There was no point.
Manipulation was something I could easily do myself. I’d wanted my shop to
succeed because of good, old-fashioned business sense. Maybe it was wishful
thinking.

With a sigh, I
scribbled down my mobile phone number—the only phone I had not attached to my
shop. If giving him the digits would stop his impromptu visits, then it might
be worth the hassle.

Reluctantly, I
handed him the paper.

“Do you have a
date tonight?”

I blinked
blank eyes rather like the vacuous female act I’d tried on him the first time
we’d met. This time it wasn’t an act. I was legitimately stumped.

“With the
tattooed not-douche?” he said.

Oh for Zeus’s sake
. Nell
had taunted Desmond about the guy who had popped in for my phone number.
Clearly he’d recalled it.

In an effort
to sound like I wasn’t a dateless loser, I said, “Not tonight.”

Desmond gave a
curt nod. “I’ll call you.”

Without
another word, he strode to the door, jingling the bell on his way out to the
sleek, black BMW parked in the dusty lot. Watching him fold his frame into the
driver’s seat was always a treat.
Especially when I got
glimpses of his nice ass.
It really was a shame he was such a dick.

The pounding
up the stairs meant Nell was on her way up.
Time to stop
gawking at the Water witch.

“What in the
flaming shit was that all about?”

I shook my
head, tearing my gaze from the windows as I did. “Your guess is as good as
mine.”

While I had
inside knowledge she lacked, I was no closer to understanding Desmond Marino
than she was. And like my bumpy first few weeks, I was pretty sure that wasn’t
going to change.

Chapter Two

The jingling
of the
Wipuk
bell at eight thirty sent another zing
of hope through me. Nell’s head lifted from her laptop. We shared a silent
look—one that said the noise heralded nothing good. I got to my feet, silently
praying it was a potential customer rather than another visit from Desmond.

I took the
stairs up at a sedate pace, giving the visitor time to browse the merchandise.
My Doc Martens sent a dull thud echoing up the stairwell with each step. The
noise would ensure it was no surprise when I appeared on the other side.

Except it was.
A surprise for me,
that is. And it shouldn’t have been.

Maximo de Sole
stood clad in a black and silver pinstripe shirt. The garment was tucked into
the pair of faded jeans snug across muscular legs. I’d never seen him without a
sports jacket and certainly not in anything as casual as jeans. He looked good,
sinfully good, especially with the sleeves rolled up just beneath his elbows
showcasing his olive sienna skin.

Unlike what
popular culture would have us believe, vampires weren’t the pale-skinned,
fangy
creatures of myth. No, they looked just like everyone
else—if everyone else looked like a menswear catalogue model in the flesh.

He nodded his
head in deference. Maximo’s trademark Augustus Caesar lock of hair swayed in
the movement before settling into its usual wave over his forehead. His dusky
pink lips were both wide and full in a neutral expression. Maybe it was the
deep-set chocolate brown eyes beneath low eyebrows and the slight bump on his
nose, that
made me think he looked like a hotter, taller
version of Tom Cruise. Whatever it was, I didn’t like the attraction. His
girlfriend had briefly enthralled me. I had no interest in repeating the
experience with him.

“Miss Walsh,”
he said in an amiable tone that belied the fact he was a walking, talking
corpse. “I’m glad to see you’re up and about. How are you feeling?”

I nodded in
return and then dropped my gaze to his hands. My mother’s ring was snug around
his left pinky. I needed that ring back. But he knew it allowed a vampire to
access Fire magic. He wasn’t going to simply hand it over.

“I’m better
without the concussions or burnt face,” I said. “Thank you for having someone
Heal me.” I wouldn’t dare thank him for what he’d done to
Ascencion
even if she
had
been trying to kill
me.

“It was the
least I could do.” A soft smile formed on his lips. “You wouldn’t have been in
the situation if it weren’t for me.”

He was
partially right about that. His girlfriend’s jealousy and wish to impress him
had prompted her to steal my ring. But vengeance had made her set me on fire.
That part was my fault.

In any case,
it was time to get the ring back. I gave him a feigned smile. “You kept my ring
safe.”

His lips
curved a little higher. “Yes.”

“May I have it
back?”

Maximo drew in
a soft breath. “I enjoy having something of yours near at hand.”

I couldn’t
rightly become angry about a flirtatious answer like that, even if it were pure
bullshit. Nevertheless I
was
angry.
The ring could prove disastrous in the wrong hands. And the only reason it
hadn’t already was because Maximo didn’t know how to invoke it. I was desperate
to get it back before that changed.

I stretched
out my awareness until I sensed the magical energy swirling around me in the
aether
. Within it I silently called on Water. The cool
energy drawn directly from the Earth rushed up my feet, flooding the seed
beneath my heart that held my magical ability.

I drew out a
small tendril of power from my cache. Then I directed it toward the vampire
while also willing it to be undetectable. I sensed caution through the empathic
link, Maximo’s caution. He must truly believe I didn’t need the ring to access
Fire.

“How
flattering,” I said. The words were a distraction while I drew in more energy.
Something told me I’d need all the help I could get to impose my will on him
and have any hope of it working.

I didn’t sense
so much as a twitch. He hadn’t noted my invasion? Maybe this would be easier
than I’d thought.

I took a quick
breath and then sent everything I had at him. “I’d really like my ring back,” I
said, verbalizing my will. “Give it to me, please.”

Maximo stared
at me without blinking.

That wasn’t
right. He should have reached for his pinky. I frantically drew in more power,
directing it toward him with the silent request for the ring.

His resonant
voice dipped into a sensually low register. “I could be persuaded to part with
it were something more
substantial
to
replace it.”

I stared at
him in absolute shock for several seconds before my brain worked out that I’d
failed.