Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (12 page)

He snorted, looking amused. After a contemplative pause, he said, “I’ll see what I can do about Las Vegas.”

“Fine.” I pressed my lips together. “I’m heading to work now. You’re welcome to come hang out in my office if you want. I won’t be staying long. Just need to write up a few appraisals.”

“Thanks for the invitation.” A fleeting, mischievous smirk crossed his face before he added, “And for not telling me to go fuck myself.”

I rolled my eyes at him before walking away, but I couldn’t help smiling.

When I walked into Supernatural Talent and Company, Monica greeted me from the front desk looking at first surprised, then relieved. She flipped her professionally highlighted blonde hair behind her shoulder and sat up straight. “I’ve been trying to call you for the past thirty minutes. A group of detectives came barging in here, wanting to look at your records. They’re in your office, now, with Jack.”

“What? Why do they want to see my records?”

“I think because they’re investigating stolen goods. At least, that’s what I overheard when they were talking to Jack.” Monica’s deftly outlined blue eyes shifted to the side. “Who’ve you got with ya, there?”

I glanced to my right. “Oh. This is Michael.” Not wanting her to get the wrong idea, I blurted, “He’s my cousin.”

Her smile brightened. She subtly rotated her left shoulder and tilted her head. “Nice to meet you, Michael. I’m Monica. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Soda?”

Tea? Me?

Honestly. It was enough to make me barf. Seattle could be overrun by zombies and she’d still manage to flirt with any guy in the room, starting with the cutest.

“No thanks. I’m good,” Michael replied, seemingly unmoved.

As I strode toward my office, I heard her say, “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Halfway down the hallway, Michael warned me, “Lire, watch it. They’re not detectives.”

I stopped in my tracks. “If they’re not detectives, then who are they?”

“Thieves.” His eyes cocked to the side. “Thugs. Two of them have killed before. They’re members of a syndicate that deals in stolen antiquities, among other things.”

My stomach threatened to shrivel up, but I gritted my teeth and straightened my spine. “Of course they are. What else would they be?”

Closing my eyes, I unfurled my telekinesis and easily tracked the individuals in my office. Three men examined an open binder on my desk. One was in my chair, while the two others stood behind, looking over his shoulder. The guy standing on the left took notes. Jack sat across from them.

I opened my eyes. “They’re reading through my appraisals. They’re all armed.”

Looking pained, Michael snarled, “I know,” and staggered backward.

I steadied him as he lurched into the wall and slid down to his knees. God, no. This was the sheriff’s office all over again.

I crouched next to him. “Can you make them want to leave?”

“Not … sure.” His hands went to his temples. Between grunts of effort, he said, “Fighting … telepaths now … will keep … them … busy.”

“Do you know where they are—the telepaths? They can’t be far, right?”

He slumped and grunted, eyes closed.

My magic seethed inside of me, hot and reassuring. I glared down the hall. “Right. First things first.”

TK at the ready, I barreled into my office, seized each man, and launched their bodies at the nearest wall. The force of their impact knocked two framed paintings to the floor and made three oblong dents in the drywall beneath their ample forms. Their breaths whooshed out of their mouths along with cries of surprise. My office chair fell over, clattering to its side.

I pinned them in place and snatched their weapons, pulling them from jacket pockets and shoulder holsters before they could try to draw them. Eyes wild, they watched as their guns and knives sailed through the air and landed on my desk in a deadly heap.

Jack jumped to his feet, stumbling backwards and almost tripping over his chair. “Jesus Christ!” He stared at me, his blue eyes wide. “Lire. What the hell are you doing? How—?”

“Never mind. I’ll explain later. These are not detectives. They’re criminals. Call the police.”

“B-b-but,” he blustered, “they had badges. And … and official paperwork.”

“Forged. Jack, trust me. Call the police.”

The blonde, the one who had been sitting at my desk growled, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,
Jack
. The consequences would be bad for business. Not to mention your health.”

I strode toward the hoodlum, allowing my pyrokinesis to flare down my arm, and leveled a fire-encased finger an inch from his nose. “It’s not his health you should be worried about. Your organization made a rather large blunder sending you here. Very unwise to mess with magic users.” I glared at him while I heated the air around their bodies to an uncomfortable level. “I’d bear that in mind before you start throwing around mindless threats. Do you understand?”

The thug to his immediate left whimpered.

The blonde’s eyes narrowed as sweat beaded on his forehead and the bridge of his nose. “Yes,” he choked out.

“Good. Make sure you pass that along to your boss. If anything goes amiss with any of my people, or clients, and I have even the
slightest
hint that you or your organization is behind it,” I gave him a meaningful look, “I’ll go out of my way to make you sorry. Very. Sorry.”

With a thought, I ignited the small notepad in the leftmost man’s grasp. He yelped and dropped it. The smell of burning paper floated up from the floor. I smothered the fire before it could trip the smoke detectors.

I withdrew my TK, secretly gratified when the three men tumbled to the ground like stringless marionettes, and then pointed a fiery finger at the door. “Now, get the fuck out of my office before I change my mind about letting you go. But remember …
I know where to find you
.”

They practically fell over each other trying to get outside. I followed them past Michael, who remained slumped against the wall, still deep in concentration, and watched to make sure they left the building.

Monica gasped when she saw me, but I ignored her. Telekinetically, I locked the front door and finally banked my fire. When I turned back, her hand covered her mouth and she stared at me, shocked.

“I’ll explain later. Just keep the doors locked. We’re closed. Those weren’t detectives.”

I hurried to check on Michael who was just getting up when I approached him. I halted several feet away to examine him, ready for more trouble. I made an effort to calm my anxious breathing. “You okay?”

“Yes. They’ve gone.”

Although his eyes looked normal, I didn’t lower my guard. “What the hell is their deal? What is it with this attack and retreat stuff?”

“Old habits. It’s how things are done. Invisius Verso—unseen influence. Wind up your puppets and let them go, never exposing yourself any more than necessary.” He tipped his head toward the front door. “The police wouldn’t think it unusual for those three to seek access to your paperwork. Those appraisals along with your client’s addresses are a treasure trove. And with just a small nudge, the whole thing could have gone sideways. If you and Jack had been shot and killed, their telepathic involvement wouldn’t be noticed by the authorities. It’s smart.”

“Yeah? Well it’s getting on my nerves. They’re like a cowardly dog, nipping at my heels and then running away as soon as I turn around. I’d prefer a knock-down fight.”

“Which is why they’ll avoid it. You’re too much of a threat to deal with directly.”

Remembering Jack, I sucked in a breath and launched myself toward my office. “The police.”

“I took care of it before the call went through. Jack is back at his desk. He won’t remember any of it. Same with Monica. Your other coworkers are next door for a coffee break.”

I teetered in my tracks. “Are they okay? Did the telepaths mess with their heads?”

“No. They’re fine. I’m sure they’ll head back in a few minutes.”

“Thank God.” I sighed, sagging. “I need to sit down.” I staggered into my office and evaluated the mess on my desk. “Crud. What the hell am I going to do with these?” I gestured at the pile of weapons before picking up my chair and collapsing into it. I disengaged my purse from my shoulder and put it on the window seat in case Red wanted to climb out.

Michael relaxed into the guest chair across from me. “Take them back to your apartment. I’m sure Detective Vanelli will know how to dispose of them.”

“Oh, he’ll love that.” I slapped my hands to my face and growled. “God. He’s going to get all steely faced and tell me this is even more reason I shouldn’t go to Vegas.”

“He’d be right.”

“I refuse to cower and hide in my apartment. I’m going, damn it. They’re not going to prevent me from doing the things I want to do. At least if I’m out of town, they won’t be messing with my friends.”

“No, they’ll just try to take down the plane you’re on.”

I stared at him, agog. “They wouldn’t,” I sputtered. “Not with hundreds of innocent people. Not just to get to me. That’s insane.”

“I agree. But you have a great deal of protection now. I’d be surprised if they weren’t at least considering it.” He canted his head, his brown eyes looking thoughtful. “Although if you were to take Vince with you, it would complicate things for them.”

“Because they can’t control him like everyone else.”

“No. If they cause his death, it puts them at odds with the sidhe.”

I blinked, remembering Paimon’s preposterous message about sidhe subterfuge on Earth. “Why? What’s with you guys and the sidhe? And why would hurting Vince make a difference to them?”

“Both good questions.”

When my continued stare yielded a shuttered expression, I glared at him. “Seriously? You’re going to play Mr. Mysterious again? That game’s getting really old.”

A whisper of a smile spread across his lips. “Is this where you tell me to go fuck myself?”

I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. “It’s not like you don’t deserve it. I mean,
really
. And Daniel wonders why I call Invisius a ‘stupid club.’” I thrust out my hand, palm up, in his direction. “This is why.”

“Keeping you in the dark isn’t something I enjoy. Daniel wants to be the one to explain things. That’s all.”

“Fine. Where is he?”

“He’ll meet up with us shortly. Back at your building.” He stood, glancing at my desk. “You have a bag or box? We’ll want to get these out of here.”

“I can probably come up with something. You have experience handling firearms?” I’d done enough readings for law enforcement that I could manage, but I wasn’t an expert. Not to mention the fact that most of my gun-toting memories came from criminals. Maybe not the best example to follow.

“Yeah, I got it.”

I had just replaced the paintings on my now dented wall when my phone rang. It took all of my willpower to keep from glancing at Michael. I told myself I wasn’t a mouse and answered it. “Hi. This is Lire.”

“Lire. Hey. It’s Gina. Say, a little change in plans. Randy and Phil were talking and they love the idea of shooting in Seattle. They think it will make for a great change of pace, so I’ve spent the past day in a mad scramble to get everything set up. The curator at the Seattle Art Museum will have a few things. I’ve also been talking to Veronica Michaels at Sotheby’s. She says she’s got some interesting pieces for you to take a look at, and, of course, Randy will bring a couple of his newest acquisitions. Sound good? Figured you wouldn’t mind since you don’t have to travel this way. We’re going to need an extra day to fit everything in, so Thursday and Friday. You up for it?”

“Uh, yeah,” I replied, allowing my gaze to fall on Michael who had looked up from clearing the chamber of the last of the handguns. “Sure. That’ll work. I’ll just cancel my flight.”

“Good to hear. Thursday, 9:00 am at SAM. Okay? See you then.”

She hung up before I could say goodbye.

I nodded toward the phone, replacing the receiver in its cradle. “That was Gina, the director’s assistant. They’ve decided to shoot the episode up here.” I crossed my arms. “Your doing?”

He shrugged. “Indirectly. When we first learned of your trip a week ago, I suggested the idea to Daniel.” He placed all the emptied handguns plus their ammunition clips into my reusable Trader Joe’s grocery bag.

“You guys have been watching me, reading the thoughts of everyone around me, ever since the whole business with Brian, haven’t you?”

He met my eyes. “Yes.”

“It must bug the shit out of you that you can’t read my mind too, figure out what I’m going to do next and make me do your bidding, like you do with everyone else around me.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, a fight maybe. I was suddenly angry enough to want one, but instead, his expression softened and he said, “No. It’s a relief.”

“A relief, huh?” I glowered at him. “Why?”

“Why do you wear gloves?”

“They protect me.”
Duh.

“Exactly. But it’s nice when you can take them off.”

Huh?

He picked up the bag. “Ready?”

“Yes.” I sighed. “I guess we’re both heading back to my apartment building then? Daniel’s meeting us there?”

He nodded.

“Fine.” I strode to my car, more than happy to retreat from yet another puzzling conversation.