In the midnight hour, p.8
In the Midnight Hour, page 8
As much as he might hate it, he needed her charity. Reclaiming his life wouldn’t be quick or easy, and until he managed to get the red tape unraveled, he had nothing. No money, no home, no car. Deke tried to imagine the conversation if he contacted one of his buddies for help. The first question would be Where the hell have you been for the last four and a half years? No one would buy the truth and any lies he told would have to be damn good to fool a bunch of cops, ex-cops, and private investigators.
The wind whipped up again, and he shrugged deeper into the jacket. It was a damn long walk to where they’d parked. When they’d arrived, the mall had been jammed and they were about as far out as they could get and still be in the lot, but it was after five now and most people had cleared out.
He owed her for more than material things. Her promise to help him had gone a long way toward keeping him calm. Once he’d recalled being imprisoned in the cartoon, Deke felt more afraid than he’d been since he was a kid. He’d done his best to conceal the gut-deep fear, but he didn’t know how much she’d discerned anyway. Maybe he’d decided to trust Ryne, but she was still a stranger and he wouldn’t allow her to see his vulnerability, not if he could prevent it.
It had been a relief when her sister had shown up. Deke had taken the time alone to overcome his anxiety. The curse was no big deal, right? He was out now and she was going to make sure he didn’t go back. After being a cop and a PI for so many years, he was used to finding himself in strange situations and used to thinking on his feet. This wasn’t that much different. Not really. He just had to take it one step at a time.
Ryne dug in the tiny purse she carried slung across her body and pulled out her keys. Deke hid a smile. The woman could do magic, but she still used keys entry to unlock her SUV doors.
She opened the rear hatch and he tossed the bags inside. Ryne, however, wasn’t satisfied with that and she started rearranging things. Deke bit back a groan. Who cared if stuff tipped over or moved around?
As she was fussing, the hair on his nape prickled. Careful to keep his movements casual, he glanced over, then did a double take. Something was lumbering toward them. It moved silently despite having about the same amount of grace as Frankenstein’s monster, and as it neared, Deke decided it bore a resemblance to Jabba the Hutt—at least as far as facial features went.
“What the hell is that?” he asked.
Ryne’s head jerked up. “Crap!”
That was the last word he understood. She started muttering in some indecipherable language as she stuffed her keys in the front pocket of her jeans. The monster came closer and Deke moved, putting himself in front of Ryne.
She grabbed his arm, tugged, and when he looked over, she gestured for him to get out of the way. He shook his head. Jabba was least seven feet tall and muscular. What was she going to do? Wave her magic wand at him?
There was a pause in her cadence, then Ryne began murmuring again, faster yet.
The creature’s attention was locked on them. The way it moved, how it behaved, and the urgency in Ryne’s voice confirmed what he knew—the bastard’s attack was imminent.
He moved to meet it.
It reached out and lifted him from the ground as if he were a child. Deke tried to break the hold, but Jabba’s arms were like tree trunks and his blows had no affect.
Then, as easily as Deke would toss a football, the monster threw him. He flew through the air and slammed into something headfirst.
Deke slowly regained awareness. He tried to figure how much time had passed while he’d been out cold, but couldn’t guess. With a groan, he struggled to open his eyes, but his head hurt too damn much. Easier to stay where he was for a while. But as he was drifting, he heard Ryne shout. He had to check on her, had to make sure she was okay. The world spun violently before righting itself and he blinked hard to stop seeing double.
She held a long-bladed dagger, wielding it through a series of spins and kicks that made him dizzy. Deke closed his eyes again to beat back the surge of nausea.
She knew martial arts.
Not the pretty stuff, but the down-and-dirty deadly kind that got a person banned from tournaments.
That should have relieved him, but she was facing something that wasn’t human. He had to help her.
Deke didn’t make it to his feet.
Sweat covered his body, his vision blurred, and he almost puked on himself. Great. Ryne was battling a monster and he, the ex-cop, was leaning against a Hummer, trying not to do the Technicolor yawn. Some protector he was.
He inched himself up the side of the SUV. It was slow progress, but he’d made it about halfway to his feet when Ryne let loose with a rope of fire.
Holy shit!
Deke wound up sitting on the asphalt once more. She’d engulfed the monster in a fireball so intense, it melted the snow piled up between the rows in the parking lot.
Jabba was unfazed. It kept coming for her, and as it walked, it pulled back its hand, as if pitching something.
As far as Deke could tell, the bastard wasn’t holding a damn thing, but Ryne leaped. And remained airborne.
Hell, no one could jump that high or stay up that long—she had to be levitating. When she landed gently back on her feet, he was sure he was right.
Quickly, she moved in, raking her dagger across the bastard’s chest. The knife made a scraping sound, but it caused no damage. When it dawned on Deke that he was sitting there, watching the show, he made another attempt to stand.
The monster raised its arm and swatted at Ryne. She ducked, and the first swipe missed, but the second one caught her and she went down. “Ryne!”
Had to help. Deke fought his way to his hands and knees, but she was up before he managed to clear his vision. He struggled to get to his feet, nearly heaved, and his palms hit the parking lot as he fell again.
Damn it to hell, he hated being helpless. And he definitely hated that a woman half a foot shorter than he had to defend his sorry ass.
Grabbing hold of the Hummer’s side mirror, Deke used it to pull himself upright. His legs were wobbly, but he hung on tighter. Ryne’s roar made him jerk and he nearly lost his grip. He looked over his shoulder. She was delivering a thigh kick to the monster and wasn’t hurt.
He turned, keeping one hand on the mirror. As he leaned against the side of the SUV, working up the energy to move, Ryne went at the creature again. This time the blade found its mark. She turned her head to avoid taking a spurt of yellowish liquid in the face, but what spewed from the monster’s neck hit her on the side of her head and ran onto her clothes.
Sweat dripped into his eyes from the exertion of standing and by the time he wiped it away, Ryne had taken the thing to the ground. She pulled the blade free, chanted just loud enough for her voice to reach him, and the creature disappeared.
Magic. He’d seen Ryne do small things that were easy for him to dismiss, but hurling fire and making a monster vanish weren’t insignificant. How did he wrap his mind around this?
His stomach rolled alarmingly and he swallowed hard. Now that Ryne was safe, Deke allowed himself to slide down the side of the vehicle until he was sitting again. He’d think about magic later. Right now, his chief question was did he have a severe concussion or was it worse? And he wondered how much money he’d owe her after a trip to the hospital.
“Hey, hotshot,” Ryne said softly. “How’re you doing?”
Deke didn’t bother to open his eyes. “My head is fucked up. I’m seeing double or blurred mostly, and the nausea is bad.”
“That’s not a surprise. You made a hell of a splat when you hit the side of the Hummer. Do you hurt anywhere else?”
“Does numbness count?”
Ryne moved her hand through his hair until she found a spot that made him grunt. Deke tried to reach for her arm to tug her away, but it was too much effort and he surrendered. She didn’t do anything except lightly touch him, but as her palm rested against his scalp, it grew hot, and a funny thing happened—the pain started to lessen.
“What are you doing?”
“Just relax.”
Since he didn’t have the energy to argue with her, Deke was willing to oblige. As he continued to improve, he became aware of how close Ryne was to him. He heard the gentle sound of her respiration. And he smelled something that almost made him gag. What the hell was that odor?
He hadn’t realized he said that aloud until Ryne replied, “It’s the crogaid’s blood. I’ve got a lot on me. Now hush up, would you? I’m not a healer and I need to concentrate.”
Deke had questions—lots of them—but he stayed quiet and let Ryne continue. By the time she removed her hand, he felt better than he had in years. Not only were his head, eyes, and stomach completely normal, but old aches that he’d earned during his time on the LAPD were gone as well.
“We better leave before someone wonders why we’re sitting here,” Deke suggested reluctantly. Maybe he felt 100 percent, but he wasn’t ready to move yet.
“Before I fought the creature, I put a spell around the area to keep humans away. Nobody’s coming until I lift it.”
“That’s what you were chanting?”
Ryne moved from her knees into a crouch. “Spells.” She paused, shrugged, then explained, “The first spell was to protect myself, second was to protect you, and the third was to put a barrier around here.”
“I came second?” he teased.
She scowled. “When you board an airplane, the flight attendants tell you to put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others. You know why? Because if you’re out cold, you can’t help the guy beside you anyway. It’s the same theory at work. We’re trained to protect ourselves first and then take care of others. A dead troubleshooter is no good to anyone. I’m sorry, though, that I wasn’t able to finish your incantation before you went sailing.” Ryne stood and held out a hand to him.
Deke wanted to touch her, so he took her up on the offer. When he was on his feet, he dusted the sand off his ass and looked around. That’s when he saw the damage to the Hummer. There was a dent in one of the door panels where his head must have connected and a broken side-view mirror. “Shit.”
“Fixable.” She closed her eyes, was silent for a moment, then flicked her fingers toward the SUV. As he watched, the ding popped out and the metal smoothed itself back into its normal shape. Next, the side mirror mounted itself into position. “The owners will never know. Come on, let’s get out of here so I can lift the barrier. The mall closes soon and people will need to get to their cars.”
She shivered, and for the first time, he realized she was only wearing her sweatshirt and jeans. “You should have told me you were cold.” Deke shrugged out of his jacket and started to put it around her shoulders, but Ryne backed away.
“The crogaid blood will permeate the fabric and it doesn’t wash out,” she explained.
“Why don’t you do some more chanting and clean up? Or is that considered wasting magic, too?”
Ryne looked thoughtful. “It’s unnecessary and I used a lot of energy already. I probably shouldn’t.”
“Because the threat might not be over?” He should have thought of that himself. It was a classic tactic—send in a diversion, then launch the real assault when the opponent was confident he was through with the fighting.
“Odds are there won’t be another attack, but better safe than sorry.” The wind gusted and Ryne shivered again.
“Come on, let’s get you out of the cold.” Taking her arm, he escorted her to the Explorer. “Where is your jacket anyway?”
“I can’t fight bundled up so I transported it inside my car along with my purse.”
“SUV,” he corrected.
“Whatever.”
He thought he detected laughter in her voice and he shot a glance her way. Yeah, she was definitely amused. “There’s a difference between a car and a SUV.”
Without commenting, Ryne dug the keys from her pocket and pressed the button to unlock the vehicle. He opened the driver’s door for her, but she didn’t get in until he was settled on the passenger side.
Deke studied her in the fading light. The bastard’s blood was only on her front side so her upholstery was safe enough, but she looked pensive. “You’re okay?” he asked. Ryne hadn’t acted as if anything hurt, but he’d seen her take at least one hit.
“I’m fine. I only had some minor bruising and I healed that before I reached you.”
“Good.” Deke was glad she was unharmed, but damn he was worthless. When had he become some fucking damsel in distress? Ryne had fought Jabba on her own and she’d defeated it while he was trying not to puke. Okay, so she could do magic, big deal. He was a man and men protected women. It was embarrassing enough to have her buy clothes for him like he was some kind of gigolo, but the scene in the parking lot left him totally humiliated.
She rotated her hand in a counterclockwise motion, and Deke felt something. He’d bet she’d lifted the spell to keep people out of the area. Interesting that he could sense that. He put aside his thoughts, though, when she reached for the ignition. “That monster was after you.”
Ryne’s fingers were around the key, but she didn’t start the Explorer. “No, it wasn’t. You’re the one it wanted to kill.”
“Bullshit. If it wanted me dead, I’d be dead.”
Turning to meet his gaze, she said, “You believe because it threw you instead of ripping out your heart, that you weren’t its intended victim. You’re wrong. Crogaids are lower dimensional beings with more brawn than brain power. When you confronted it, that probably left it confused.”
Deke shook his head. “There’s no reason in hell for one of those things to target me.”
“Crogaids are easily manipulated and that one had Anise’s energy sig all over it. She knows you’re free and sent it to kill you.”
6
CHAPTER
It was past twilight and edging into night when Ryne turned the Explorer onto her street. Instead of going straight home after leaving the mall, she’d driven to Target, forced some cash on Deke—too much according to him—and sent him into the store to get a razor, soap, and whatever other supplies a guy needed. She was certain he’d be completely safe and she couldn’t go with him, not the way she looked.
He’d been gone a long time. Long enough that Ryne thought she might have to waste energy to clean herself up and go find him. It would have been magic she couldn’t have afforded to use.
Deke had been badly hurt. If she’d followed procedure, Ryne would have called in a healer. She hadn’t. Instead she’d poured healing energy into him and drained her own magic. It had been a stupid move, she knew that, but she hadn’t been thinking of anything except taking care of him.
When he’d returned to the car, he’d not only had a bag full of stuff, he’d brought food from the snack bar. They’d sat in the darkening parking lot having dinner while customers came and went around them. That had been idiotic, too, since her hair was matted with crogaid blood and all they would have needed was someone a little too curious to send security over.
Ryne made the turn into her driveway and her headlights caught a figure sitting on the bench on her front porch. It took a few seconds for her brain to process the image. “Oh, crap.”
“Who is that?” Deke asked, straightening in his seat.
She pressed the garage door opener and kept her eyes facing forward. “Gineal councilman.”
“So?” Ignoring the question, she pulled inside, turned off the engine, and pressed the button to close the door. He caught her as she rounded the hood of the SUV. “Ryne?”
“I might be in trouble.”
“Might be?”
“The spell I used to free you? It’s one I needed council permission to use and I didn’t bother to check with them.”
It was obvious he had questions—knowing him, a million of them—but she didn’t have time to answer them. She hurried to the front door. Ryne paused with her hand on the knob, took a deep breath, and then opened it. “Ceannard Taber, you are welcome in my home.”
Taber didn’t hesitate once she gave him permission to enter and she closed the door behind him. When Ryne turned, she saw Deke standing in the great room, hands at his sides and body tensed. Covertly, she scowled at him, then immediately smoothed out her face when Taber looked over at her.
“Please, have a seat,” Ryne invited.
He ignored her. Instead, Taber addressed Deke. “I need to speak with Ryne privately. If you’d be kind enough to withdraw?”
“No.”
Ryne rushed from the foyer to Deke’s side. “He’s a member of the Gineal council,” she warned under her breath.
“I don’t care if he’s the fucking king of England; I’m not leaving you to face him alone.”
His stubborn expression told her that she’d be looking at a hell of an argument to get rid of him. If they were alone, she’d wade right in, but Ryne was aware of Taber’s interested gaze. Troubleshooters were supposed to remain in control, and when she and Deke had one of their discussions, she didn’t stay cool and serene. Showing a weakness like that in front of a councilor was a good way to get assigned to Outer Mongolia.
“Excuse us one minute,” she told Taber, and grabbing Deke by the forearm, Ryne tugged. She didn’t let go until she had him on the other side of the room. “I report to the council, that makes Taber one of my bosses and I’m in enough trouble. Don’t dig the hole I’m in any deeper.”
Deke leaned closer. “If you think I’m leaving, you better think again. Gineal can turn, you told me that. Maybe after what happened today you don’t believe it, but I can protect you.”
Ryne was momentarily speechless. He wanted to protect her? His conviction that he could defend her was delusional, but it was also . . . sweet. “I’m not in any danger, I promise.” Deke didn’t look convinced, so she continued, “You can—”
“That’s enough discussion.” The councilman’s unexpected interjection made her freeze. “Both of you, over here.”
