Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (37 page)

“Where he belongs, huh?” She shook her head pityingly. “And just where do you think that is?”

“Here … on Earth. Back at his job with the Chiliquitham PD … back with … with …
me
.” As I forced out the words, each one higher in pitch from the last, her expression grew more sympathetic. It would have been easier if she’d glared down her nose at me, like Kieran. Instead, her soft gaze unraveled my self-control.

In front of this woman, a near stranger, I covered my face and fought to swallow the tears that swelled at the back of my throat.

“Oh, hon. Shit. I’m sorry. Come on, over here. Sit down. I’d offer you a tissue, but I don’t have psi-free.”

When she beckoned me again, I shuffled the few feet to perch on the edge of her bed. I rotated my purse to my lap and retrieved a tissue. I squeezed Red’s outstretched paw before allowing the top to snap shut.

I dabbed at my moist eyes and huffed. “So stupid. It’s not like this was a surprise. I mean I didn’t need more than one look at Maeve to know where this was headed,” I said, my voice laced with disgust. I sighed. “I guess part of me still hoped my personality would count for something. But … whatever.”

Kim shoved her overnight bag to the side and sat next to me. “Oh, no. God no. I know it’s hard, but please don’t think like that. Our sidhe blood affects us in ways that are hard to explain. And this won’t be any easier for Vince. Trust me. When you bond, it’s not like you forget the people you care about. There’s a lot of guilt, especially at first.”

She kicked off her shoes and scooted backward to make room to sit cross-legged on the bed. “It’s the same for most of us who had human relationships before we took our mate. Some are lucky enough, like me, to swing both ways. But if Brassal wasn’t turned on by that, Jackie wouldn’t be in the picture, even though I love her. It took me a long time to get past that.”

When I met Kim’s eyes, she looked sad. She tipped her head and bit her lower lip before shrugging. “As far as I know, Maeve isn’t into women. But judging by your opinion of her, it doesn’t seem like something you’d consider anyway.” She reached toward my arm but fell just short of touching me. She shrugged instead. “I’m sorry.”

I nodded stiffly and shrugged. “Yeah. Me too.”

She sucked in a breath, her back straightening. “Shit,” she hissed, “Maeve’s demanding an audience with Kieran.”

“Is that—?”

Eyes screwing shut, she silenced me with her raised palm. I watched in bated silence as she sat rigidly, expression strained. Down the hall, I heard Jackie’s subdued voice and then footsteps as I think she and Kieran went into the kitchen. The sound of cabinet doors slamming and ice clinking against glass confirmed my guess.

I cast my gaze about the modestly proportioned bedroom. Someone, probably Kim, since she seemed artistically inclined, had painstakingly applied a terracotta-tinted Venetian plaster finish to the walls. Aside from a leather backpack hanging from one of the bedposts and the black overnight bag on top of her cast iron bed, the room was insanely neat and orderly. Even the clothing in her closet was organized by length and color. I wondered whether she and Jackie lived together. If they did, were Jackie’s clothes hanging on the other side of the closet? Were they as neatly organized?

Kim slumped and opened her eyes, blowing out a relieved breath. “Okay. I’ve staved her off for the moment, but Maeve won’t butt out for long. I’ve pushed her and Brassal as much as I dare.” She examined me. “Girl, you must be something special. I’ve never seen Maeve so worked up. If Kieran continues to disobey …”

Frowning, she slid off the bed and slipped back into her shoes. “This is serious. Kieran stands to be outcast.” She paced and nibbled at her thumb. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but staying here for long periods isn’t easy for them. If Maeve brings the hammer down, he won’t be allowed to return. And the worst thing is: It won’t make a damned bit of difference.”

She stopped to peer at me. “Maeve is adamant. She wants you bound to a sidhe as soon as possible. If not Kieran, then she will send another, one who isn’t as kind and won’t take no for an answer. And if Brassal is worried about who she’ll send, then, believe me, there’s reason to worry.”

I kept wondering how things could get worse. I needed to stop that.

“I should have killed her when I had the chance,” I muttered.

She blinked at me, startled. “I hope you’re joking. If you had, the whole of the King’s army would descend on us. And, by ‘us,’ I mean everyone—all of the human race.”

I stood and folded my arms. “Well, Maeve’s got another thing coming if she thinks she’s going to force me to bond with someone I don’t love, much less hardly know. If she wants to send someone after me, he can just get the hell in line. I’ve already got a demon haunting my dreams, plus another one trying to find me, not to mention the Invisius telepaths throwing any random thug in my direction hoping to score a lucky shot. Maybe they can all get together and form a damned hunting party.”

“All the more reason for you to bond with Kieran.” She stepped closer. “He’s a renowned warrior. He can protect you better than anyone.”

“Kim, even if I wanted to, even if I was in love with him, it wouldn’t matter. He’s spent his whole life thinking humans are the scum of the Earth. Did you know he refused when Maeve asked him to bond with a prominent sidhe family’s daughter? If he objected to that, he’s sure not going to fall all over himself to take me as his soul mate, four psychic powers or not.”

Her eyes widened. “Four? Holy crap. Do you know how rare that is? No wonder Maeve’s foaming at the mouth.” She shook her head. “And you’re wrong about Kieran. Trust me on this. He might be a proud, uncompromising son of a bitch, but he doesn’t patently despise humans, not like some of them. He’s a good guy. When you bond, he’ll add to your power. Together you’ll be unmatched—an unstoppable force against the demons. And you’ll make easy work of getting the telepaths to fall into line.”

I shivered, her last comment a little too close to Invisius’ prophecy for comfort.

“You talk like you’ve known him a while.”

She went back to the open drawer of her dresser. “Brassal and Kieran are housemates. They grew up together. I know it probably didn’t seem like it from their conversation, but they’re best friends. They have each other’s backs. That’s why Brassal is so exasperated. He thinks Kieran’s being recklessly obstinate.”

Did she know this because of their bond? Were their minds so closely intertwined that they shared every last thought?

“Earlier, Brassal … he was talking through you, like he was controlling you. Is that what it’s like? Can he make you do things?” I was sure Maeve would like nothing better than to control me through one of her minions. I shuddered.

“No. No, he can’t. Are you thinking it’s like being mind controlled by a telepath? It’s nothing like that. Our connection requires consent.”

After placing a pile of neatly folded panties into the unzipped Samsonite bag, she walked to her open closet. “It’s a little like a telephone. Or a door. I can choose whether to answer. If I allow it, he can enter my mind and see and hear everything I experience. But it’s a choice. I have to give him permission and I can shut him out at any time. And vice versa.”

So much for my Maeve theory. “If a sidhe mate can’t control me, then why does Maeve want me bound so badly?”

She seemed disinclined to answer or, perhaps, was just carefully considering her response. I wondered whether Brassal lurked inside her mind, listening, maybe directing.

After a moment, she replied, “When you’re soulbound, you can’t help but feel drawn to your mate. You … you want to please him. You want to help him.” She let her breath out in a rush and shrugged. “At least, that’s how I feel with Brassal. We have a deep connection. I want what’s best for him and I’ll do whatever I can to help him. And he does the same for me. It’s not like I’d do something immoral—there are definitely limits—but Maeve knows if you’re bound to one of her loyalists, you’ll want to help his cause, which, of course, ultimately works in her favor.”

“So, what happens when you allow Brassal inside your head? Can he read your mind? Does he know everything about you, even if he wasn’t in your head when it happened?”

“No. But I’ll be honest. It’s not easy keeping secrets. When he’s in my head, he knows what I’m thinking, unless I’m being extra careful, and he can sense my emotions. It’s pretty much impossible to lie.” She shook her head and amended, “Well, not impossible. I could lie, but he’d know it. And you know how the sidhe are about lying.” She peered into her closet and removed several items from their hangars.

“I’m relieved you’re packing,” I told her. “From what you said earlier, I thought maybe you were considering staying here.”

She laid the pile of clothes on her bed and started folding them to fit into the bag. “Jackie thinks we should stay. She’s sick of running. I don’t blame her. We’ve cut deep into our savings. I had to quit my job. The past two nights we’ve spent sleeping in my car.”

“I can understand your desire to be at home, but you shouldn’t stay. Between the telepaths and me, we’ll find a place for you guys to crash with us. I live at Talisman Terrace. My building’s wards and house djinn will protect you.”

I rounded the end of her bed, sticking my used tissue into my pocket before leaning my hip against her cast iron footboard. “Kim … I know how the emissaries died. The FBI has the guy who orchestrated their murders in custody. The agent in charge tricked me into reading an item that belongs to him. His name is Evan McLean. A demon worked through him to orchestrate their murders. McLean’s in jail now, but if Alex has been killed, it means the demon found another summoner to do its bidding. And since McLean knows your name and hometown, the creature will know it too. You’re listed in the white pages. The summoner who helped kill Alex will find this place just as easily as I did.”

“That’d be difficult, since I killed that motherfucker two days ago,” Jackie said from behind me, making me jump at her sudden appearance. She folded her arms. “He won’t be the one pursuing us, unless he comes back as a zombie. Of course, there wasn’t much left to work with after I got done with him.”

Unlike Kim, Jackie wore no makeup and her fashion sense was considerably more basic—jeans, black Converse high tops, and a white button down oxford shirt, tails out and sleeves rolled. I could tell she was someone who enjoyed shocking people, but I knew better than to discount her boast. If Jackie possessed half as much power as confidence, she was a formidable witch.

I asked her, “What are you? Rowan?”

Although there were dozens of witchcraft denominations, Rowan and Glindarian were the two most common. I was willing to bet she wasn’t a Glindarian. There was a reason L. Frank Baum had named his good witch after the sect. Glindarians were more known for their healing and nurturing magic, not killing bad guys in a way that left their corpses in pieces.

Arms folded, shoulders back, Jackie jerked her chin upward.

Like I thought. Rowan. “I guess the guy managed a summoning before you killed him.”

“I wasn’t fast enough.” Kim hugged herself, frowning down at the floor.

“You were more than fast,” Jackie said sharply. “Alex was unlucky. Babe, how many times do I have to say this? It wasn’t your fault.”

Kim turned back to the closet, her face distorted by remorse.

Jackie insisted, “We can stay here. My wards will protect us.”

Kim turned around and threw up her hands. “But how’re we going to eat? Keep up with our house payments? The electricity bill? I can’t go get another job. It’ll put everyone around me in danger.”

“We can use my portal to come and go,” Jackie said. “The demon doesn’t know my name. We’ll get by on my income.”

“Brassal doesn’t think that’s wise. He wants us to go with Lire.”

“And then what? We’ll still have the same shit to deal with, except we won’t have an emergency exit to get us out fast.” Jackie jutted out her chin. “I don’t see how that’s any better.”

I wanted to leave them alone to their argument, but according to Kieran, if Kim died, King Faonaín’s wrath could fall upon the rest of us. I threw in my two cents. “Here it’s just the two of you. At least at my building there are dozens of magic users, plus my building’s wards and djinn, to stand between the demon and Kim. I’m sure the telepaths can do something about your house payments. If not, then I will. I agree with Brassal. You two should come stay with Kieran and me and the telepaths.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “You guys are all staying together? Even Kieran?” She grinned wickedly. “Now,
that
could get interesting.”

“Behave,” Kim scolded her. “You’re scaring poor Lire.”

“Somehow, I think it would take more than innuendo to do that.”

I chuckled. “Sorry to dash your hopes, but we’re not all in the same apartment.” I showed off my gloved fingers. “So far, Kieran’s the only one who qualifies to stay at my place.”

“I’m sure we could work something out.” She smirked. “Don’t you have any sheer skin-suits?”

Kim gasped and threw the nearest pillow at her. “Jackie!”

She dodged the pillow, laughing, and then shook her head at the open suitcase. “Kiddo, you take forever to pack. Hurry up, and we’ll get out of here. That should make dear
Brassal
happy, at least.” She rolled her eyes.

I checked the hallway. “Where’s Kieran?”

“Inspecting my defenses, I think,” Jackie replied.

“Outside?”

“Yeah. He went out the back. I’ll go see.”

I followed her down the short hallway, extending my telekinetic net toward the back of the house. I felt Kieran coming in through the door just off the kitchen. He practically staggered inside, stumbling over the threshold, as though exhausted. What had he been doing?

The pronounced rumble of a vehicle, passing somewhere out front, partially masked the
slam
of the closing patio door. The motor’s pitch deepened and grew louder, but there was something off about the sound. Before I could pin it down, its deafening roar, followed by an explosion of breaking glass and split timber, startled me into stumbling backward. I tripped over my feet and spilled onto the wood floor, landing on my butt a few feet outside the master bedroom.