Wuthering Frights (21 page)

"I don't," he said simply, his jaw tight.

I felt my stomach drop and was suddenly scared to death that he knew more than he was letting on. There was just something in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think you're emotionally stable at the moment," he said simply.

I nearly swallowed my own tongue. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged as if what he'd just said wasn't a big deal by any stretch of the imagination. "You've been sleeping in and showing up late to work, things you've never done before."

"I did it once!" I interrupted him, spearing him with my eyes. "One time, for fuck sake!"

He didn't seem fazed. "You're too thin, you look sick and you've distanced yourself from all your friends. All warning signs, as far as I'm concerned."

"Warning signs of what?" I demanded, g
laring at him. He was basically
doubting my ability to do my job, and I had to admit, despite my fuming, I was hurt. "And I haven't distanced myself from any of my friends, I've just been busy!"

"Doing what?"

"None of your business," I said in as collected a tone as I could muster. "All that matters is that I'm good at my job, Knight, you know that."

"You
were
good at your job. These days, I don't know what to think about you."

I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth. "This is fucking unbelievable," I said as I shook my head.

"I think you have some things to figure out for yourself, Dulcie," Knight continued calmly, like he thought he was a shrink or something. "And as head of this branch of the ANC, I can't, in good conscience, put you in a potentially dangerous situation."

Feeling like I would either cry or pull my hair out, I exhaled deeply, and ran my hand through my hair in frustration. Instantly Knight's eyes glommed onto my wrist.

"What's that?" he demanded, pointing at my portal compass watch.

If I'd had anything in my bladder, I absolutely would have wet myself. Instead, it felt like I was in slow motion as I brought my gaze to the diamond-faced watch, which caught the sunlight coming through the window. It reflected rainbow prisms all around the room as I panicked, my heart beating frantically. Then I realized there was no way in hell that Knight could identify this as a portal watch. There was nothing about it to give it away. Instead, it appeared to be an extravagantly ostentatious timepiece.

"It's a watch," I said simply, berating myself for not having left it at my apartment.

"I can see that," Knight barked back at me. "Where did you get it?"

"A store." I said the first thing that came to mind, and realized my mistake immediately.

"You bought it for yourself?" Knight asked incredulously.

Well, the lie had already escaped from my lips, so there was no use in backing down now.  As transparent as my lie would be, it was still way better than admitting that the Head of the Netherworld, a.k.a., the head of the illegal potions market, gave the watch to me. "Yes."

Knight cocked his head to the side and studied me. "Interesting, considering you detest the color pink not to mention diamonds."

I swallowed and prayed for a miracle. Unfortunately, one didn't come. "I, uh, needed a watch and didn't feel like shopping ... for a long time, so I just bought the first one I saw."

Knight stared at the watch again, before bringing his fuming blue eyes back to mine. "A Rolex? You bought the first Rolex you happened to see?"

I suddenly wished one of the flying Netherworld monsters had followed me home and gobbled me up, just so I wouldn't have to face the ire in Knight's eyes. "Yeah, I wanted to get something nice for myself," I answered sheepishly.

"Good to know you have, oh, ten thousand dollars just laying around."

Ten thousand dollars!
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. I had no idea the watch was that expensive! I said nothing, but watched Knight shake his head as he exhaled. "It's great you've moved on so quickly, Dulcie. Kudos to you."

"That's not …" I started, but he shook his head again, silencing me with his raised hand.

"I don't give a shit about your personal life," he interrupted me. "All that matters to me now is that you do a good job here. And lately, your attitude sucks."

I shook my head and felt exhausted from my hair to my toes. "If anyone has had a personality change lately, it's you," I spat back at him. "So don't try and tell me that I can't do my job when it's pretty clear where all of this is coming from."

His jaw went tight. "And where would that be?"

I wasn't about to back down, not now. "Obviously from the recent events between you and me."

He snickered an ugly sound and then the smile left his lips entirely as he glanced at my watch again. "Don't flatter yourself."

"I'm not," I answered, narrowing my eyes as the pain of his words singed me. "I'm simply looking at the facts."

"Dulcie," he started, a slight smile playing with his lips again, which pissed me off even more than his harsh words had. "I've had plenty of time to ask myself what happened with you and me and I've reached the conclusion that what happened was destined to be."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that your hang-ups are bound to fuck up any relationship you get into."

I shook my head, at a loss for words to adequately defend myself. And the kicker of the whole damn thing was that I'd broken up with him merely to protect him! "Maybe and maybe not," I said finally, feeling completely defeated because there was nothing I could say that would make things better.

"It is what it is," he finished dismissively. "But don't worry about me because I'll move on." He narrowed his eyes. "I am moving on."

I didn't want to admit to myself how much his words stung me to the core, and of course, I wasn't going to admit anything to him. I simply held my tongue and nodded, trying not to lose my poker face. "Then I'm happy for you."

He glared at me for a second or two before a mask of indifference pasted itself over his face. "And as far as this investigation goes, you're off it."

I stood up, feeling sick to my stomach and left his office.

###

The cell phone on loan from Melchior buzzed in my pocket at exactly seven p.m. I pulled it out and noticing "private caller" on the window, figured it had to be Quill. Really, he was the only one who ever called me on the damn thing anyway.

"Hello?" I answered, impatiently.

"Dulce." It was Quillan. "Christina is going to pick you up in thirty minutes."

Yes, I was dead tired and needed to sleep, but after my day with Knight, I knew I wouldn't be able to. "Sounds good," I said with a deep sigh.

"I'll see you both soon," Quill answered. Then he apparently remembered something. "Your father had one of his cars shipped to the empty warehouse at the loading docks. You can take it home tonight, but just be sure to park it somewhere where no one will notice it; and make sure no one's around whenever you're getting into and out of it."

"I'll park it in the Vons lot around the corner," I said. "And I'll go for incognito when I'm driving it."

"Yeah, that sounds good," he answered quickly and then paused for a few seconds. "Are you okay?"

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that no, I wasn't okay by any stretch of the imagination, but held myself in check. "I'm great."

Twelve

After I got off the phone with Quill, it suddenly struck me as odd that Christina was coming to pick me up—mainly because it wasn't like we were friends or anything. I shrugged the concern away, though, figuring Quill was just nervous about me using my ANC bike on Melchior business. And when it came down to it, it would be an opportunity for me to grill Christina for information, and find out exactly how close she was to my father.

Christina rang my doorbell precisely thirty minutes after I hung up with Quill. This time, she was dressed in dark blue jeans with flared legs, white sneakers, and a white T-shirt, which made her natural olive complexion look even tanner.  She didn't have a speck of makeup on, not even eyeliner or mascara, and even in this most natural state, she was still very pretty. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, which I immediately noticed because I'd always had an aversion to wearing my hair up and revealing the points on my ears. Apparently Christina wasn't a self conscious fairy. Point for her, I guess.

"Hi," she said in a chipper voice as she poked her head in my entryway, scanning my house nosily. She pulled her head back out and offered me a heartfelt smile. "Cute place!"

"Thanks," I grumbled as I eyed her jeans and sneakers again. "You were lots taller last time we met."

She laughed and shook her head. "Those were my Sam Edelman's. Pretty hot shoes, don't you think?"

I couldn't argue because they were hot. "Yeah," I managed to squeak in reply.

"You saw me in my work attire; usually, I look like this," she said, glancing down at herself, and shrugging like "what you see is what you get."

"Much more practical," I commented, noting that I was wearing an outfit almost identical to hers. She seemed to notice it too and smiled at me in response.

"My dad always said not to get all dolled up every day because if you do, people will always expect you to look that way; but if you get dolled up every once in a while, people will really notice how beautiful you are."

"I like your dad's advice," I replied, locking the door and closing it behind us.

"It's good advice." She started down the walkway with me at her side.

"Thanks for picking me up," I chimed, feeling like I needed to do my part to seem sociable and friendly, especially since she was so gregarious. And you know what they say about catching flies with vinegar …

"Sure, Quill wanted you to be able to drive the car on loan from Melchior, so it made sense for me to pick you up."

I hadn't thought of that. Guess my brain wasn't working on all eight cylinders. 'Course, I'd had all of, what ... four hours of sleep in the last few days? It was a wonder my brain was even working at all.

"Yeah, that does make sense," I said and watched as she whipped out her car keys and beeped her remote, unlocking the doors to a lifted, black Jeep Wrangler which was covered in mud. "You drive a Wrangler?" I
asked in awe, suddenly finding
respect for her. I mean, there are cars, trucks and SUVs, and then there are Jeeps.