Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (2 page)

“His parents identified the body. Pretty sure they’d know their own son.”

“Use your head, Agent Roeper. Daniel was taken by telepaths.”

“Mind control. Such a convenient answer.”

“Apparently, so is denial,” I shot back.

“There’s no
denying
what you got out of this, though, is there? Three new gifts. That’s a lot of power for one person. Unprecedented, from what I understand.” He raised an eyebrow and leveled me with a direct gaze. “And convenient.”

“Agent—” Cunningham began, but my furious response overrode him.

”
Convenient
?” I growled. Somehow I ended up on my feet. “You have no goddamned idea what you’re talking about, you sanctimonious son of a bitch. Why don’t you try facing-off with a demon? Watch it flay someone alive in front of your eyes, while you’re tied up and helpless, and then listen while it threatens to do the same to the people you love. Then we’ll see just how fucking
convenient
it all feels!”

I was shaking so fiercely I nearly fell when I spun on my heel, but Cunningham arrived at my side to steady me before I fell on my face. I would have yanked my arm out of his grasp, except I’d probably end up on the floor if I did.

If I wasn’t so dizzy, I might have been shocked by his decision to put his hand on me. Without a barrier to cover his skin, his essence would flow freely into whatever he touched. Now I’d have to trash my gloves if I didn’t want to risk inadvertently reading his thoughts whenever I handled them.

Reluctantly, I allowed him to steer me back to the table.

“You have what you need. Write your reports. We’re finished,” he said to Roeper and Cheung. He maneuvered me to my chair and, in the same stern tone, said, “Sit down before you fall down.”

I glared at him, but there was no sense arguing.

As the two agents collected their laptops, Cunningham considered the unopened bottle on the table in front of me. “You’ve been here for three hours and haven’t opened your water. What have you had this morning besides coffee?”

None of your damn business
, I almost blurted out. Instead, I folded my arms and pressed my lips together. “I wasn’t hungry.”

“Not smart. You’re clearly hypoglycemic and you look like you haven’t slept in days. You need to eat something.” He glanced over my shoulder. “Agent Cheung, ask Roberta to run over to Peabody’s Beans. Tell her to come back with a double tall latte, four packets of sugar, and a muffin or scone.” He asked me, “Chocolate? Or would you prefer something else?”

“I’m not picky.” I blew out a resigned huff and forced my arms to relax, loosely clasping my hands in my lap. “If they tell Julie or Steven the order is for me, they’ll know what I like.” Everything at Peabody’s Beans was psi-free, so that wasn’t a worry, and Julie was my best friend. I’d been ordering the same thing from her almost every day for the past seven years.

“You get that? Make sure Roberta knows who it’s for. Give her some gloves.” He jerked his chin at Cheung, dismissing him, and I heard the door close behind me.

He tipped his head toward the unopened water bottle. “At least drink.”

I pressed my lips together and then admitted, “I can’t open it.”

“Your wrists?”

When I nodded, he sighed. “Well, why didn’t you say something?”

He made quick work of unwrapping it and loosened the cap, being careful to avoid touching the lip of the bottle with his bare fingers. Wouldn’t want to give the elephant in the room any random thoughts to swallow along with her water.

I sighed and chastised myself for the bitter thought. Cunningham wasn’t a jerk like Roeper. From the get-go, he’d treated me fairly. He was a good guy.

I drank, holding the bottle with two hands to keep it from slipping through my fingers, and watched him settle back in his chair. He regarded me with his studious brown eyes. His thick brows furrowed to form a nearly continuous expanse as he examined me.

“Better?”

I shrugged.

“Don’t misjudge him. He’s doing what he thinks is his job.”

“Maybe he needs a new one.”

“Not everyone understands finesse. He’ll either learn or he won’t. Not something you need to worry about.” He paused, drumming his fingers against the table. “I arrived on scene, shortly after they airlifted you.” Although his gaze met mine, his eyes grew distant. “I’ve been doing this job almost fifteen years. Been in law enforcement since I got out of the army. I’ve seen a lot of things I wish I hadn’t.
That
…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “That is going to linger.”

He seemed to test the weight of his words for a moment before tipping his chin at me. “Met with Vanelli, yesterday. He believes you saved him and your business partner from sharing Brian’s fate. Bargaining with that creature, drawing it off … said it was the bravest thing he’d ever witnessed.” He compressed his jaw and gave me an assessing look. “After seeing what was left of Brian, I understand why.”

I frowned. Vince had it wrong. Bravery had nothing to do with it. I’d bartered with the demon out of sheer cowardice. I couldn’t face the thought of watching Vince and Jack die at the demon’s hands, so I did the only thing I could think of. I traded my immortal soul for their freedom. I relinquished God’s grace in order to avoid something horrific. I hadn’t even considered standing up to it.

I’d managed to nullify the demon’s bargain before the creature dragged me to Hell, but I couldn’t revel in my success. Despite my freedom and unburdened soul, I’d never be proud of what I’d done.

Cunningham was right about one thing, though. Those memories were going to linger. I might be able to stifle them for a period of time, lock them up, try to forget. But I’d never be free of them. Not ever.

I looked down at my hands, desperate to stop thinking about it. After a long minute struggling to bury the ugly experience under five hundred feet of gravel, a thick layer of concrete, and a two-ton anvil, I came back to myself and finally realized what Cunningham was actually saying.

He believed me. He didn’t think I’d colluded with Brian or the demon in order to gain three new psychic powers.

He was on my side.

I hadn’t noticed how heavy the world had gotten, resting square on my chest, until it lifted and all at once I could breathe again.

He slid a business card toward me and tapped it twice with his thick index finger. The sound thumped in my ears and vibrated the table. “She’s good. Specializes in PTSD.” He stared at me, daring me to argue. “Don’t wait to call. Trust me on this.” Understanding was etched in every line on his rugged face.

“She helped you.”

He went back to being the inscrutable G-man, but he nodded. I wondered what had happened to him.

“Thanks. I’ll … think about it.”

“I suppose that’s better than no.” He sighed. “Now, about your statement …”

Reading weird shit is the curse of a clairvoyant. But this was a new one—even for me.

That alone should have been my first clue.

I sat cross-legged on a hot, white beach across from Veronica Michaels, the acquisitions coordinator for Sotheby’s, explaining there was no way I could perform a psychic reading on her wedding cake. “Look.” I sighed. “This is a disaster. The icing’s already melting.”

A deep laugh rumbled behind me, making me jump. Veronica and the absurd cake forgotten, I whipped around on my beach towel to confront its source—a buck-naked Adonis who sunned himself, not eight feet away. Each exquisitely taut and tanned muscle gleamed in the sun, and,
holy moley
, I had a spectacular view of half of them. Stretched out on his stomach, he relaxed, head resting on folded arms. His burning gaze flicked over my body, so intent, I was surprised not to feel its caress.

This was no mere man. I recognized the creature immediately. I was riveted to the spot, my hands clawing at the sand behind me. I opened my mouth to scream, but the sound lodged impotently in my throat.

The demon blew out an imperious sigh, but other than rolling its eyes, it remained still.

I knew Paimon didn’t have to twitch a muscle to be a threat. Memories of its dark appendage, which could disgorge from its mouth like some caustic worm, were still fresh as the day I’d seen it flay the skin from a man’s body. And I had no doubt it could do the same to me if that’s what it desired.

Making matters worse, it wasn’t confined to a summoning circle. It was free to do whatever it wanted.

So, why was it sprawled on a towel catching rays?

“Really, woman. Do I have to endure this silliness every single night?” Even while irritated, its seductive voice managed to stir my insides—fear mixed with a heady dash of desire.

Night?

I blinked and risked a look around.

The beach at Seattle’s Golden Gardens Park. I spotted the boathouse, maybe a hundred yards distant. And it wasn’t nighttime. It was sunny and hot.

Gazing down the shore, I frowned. Except for Paimon, the beach was … empty?

At last, the light came on.

You’re dreaming, bonehead.

“I simply wish to speak with you,” the demon continued. “Have I offered you any harm? Made any terrifying move against you? Why do you insist on acting this way?”

In a dream, Paimon couldn’t harm me. Not physically, anyway.

Regaining some poise if not calm, I straightened up and stopped clutching at the sand behind me. Dusting off my hands, I retorted, “Because the only thing you offer is pain and torment.”

It rolled to its side, facing me, right arm folded into a triangle to support its head. I had to close my eyes. My dream cheeks flamed. Its desire was plainly obvious.

Paimon laughed. “That is not all I offer, as you well know. You are lying to yourself if you believe otherwise. I have no wish to cause you pain. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“Right. That explains why you brutalized me, cut me, and tried to claim my soul.”

It drew the fingers of its left hand down the center of its chest, enticing me to watch, a devilish smile playing on its very human face. “It was the most direct means to get what I wanted. Nothing more.”

“Exactly. My soul for you to toy with for all eternity.”

It ran the tip of its currently pink, human-looking tongue across its perfect teeth and grinned. “If that was indeed what I wanted.”

I resisted following the path of its fingers, but it wasn’t easy. Its continued covetous gaze made me wish I wore something more concealing than a skimpy bikini.

Why the hell hadn’t I dreamed of being in the Arctic?

I laughed harshly. “The master of lies. I guess it’s too embarrassing to admit I outsmarted you. Isn’t it?”

“Believe what you wish. It matters not.”

“If you don’t want my soul, then why are you here?”

“I want to help you.”

“Because you’re such a caring guy.”

“I care what happens to you, yes.”

I rolled my eyes. “You must think I’m stupid.”

“To the contrary. I assure you.”

“And why should I believe you?”

“Because you have touched me and taken my measure. And you know there are other things that motivate me besides the acquisition of souls. You are a unique individual, Clotilde Devon. A worthy mate. I do not wish to see you harmed as others surely do.”

“Wait just a darn minute. Mate?” I waved my hands as if to erase its words. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said, I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Now who is the liar?”

“What? We are so done with this. Begone! This is my dream. My head. I want you out.”

It chuckled, moving gracefully to sit up, and loosely draped its arms around bent knees. I tried not to appreciate its physique and failed. Not a surprise. Everything about its human façade was crafted to seduce me, from finely slashed brows and square jaw to wide shoulders and defined muscular body. Its exterior package captivated me like no other man had or, possibly, ever would.

Paimon’s lustful expression turned serious. “I will do as you ask, for now. But know this: Your life and the lives of countless humans may depend upon what I have sought to give you. I do not wish to see my efforts squandered, nor my refuge invaded. It is time you finally recognize the increase in mass slayings and demonic possessions for what they are. I will not have you defenseless.

“We will speak again.”

My eyes popped open to darkness. I sucked in a shuddering breath and labored to control my trembling, which started in my center and radiated to the rest of my body until my teeth chattered.

Red stirred on the pillow next to me. “Lire? Are you okay?”

“Nightmare,” I whimpered.

He patted the top of my head with his fuzzy paw.

While he soothed me back to sleep, I tried to convince myself that the demon’s sole purpose was to terrorize me. That’s how it got its jollies. But even with Red’s reassuring touch, I couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding that settled into my bones.