Devon Monk - Magic on the Storm
Which made sense. James Hoskil, one of the people involved in my dad’s murder, had admitted using disks with Blood magic. Violet didn’t know it, but Greyson had a disk implanted in his neck, holding him permanently between life and death, neither man nor beast.
As far as I could tell, the disks had only ever been used to harm.
“What happens if you don’t release the documents to the shareholders?” I asked.
“There are legal actions they could take.” She picked up her cup, the steam giving up the sweet perfume of licorice. “They’ve threatened locking me out of the lab, seizing my files, closing down the facility. . and. . other actions. We’ve had some interesting mail. Threats.” She gave me a small smile and I saw a flash of anger in her eyes before she took a sip of her tea. Violet was no fainting flower. I’d come to believe she had matched my moody father’s intellect and stubbornness point for point.
“The attorneys are involved, but these kinds of people don’t always go through legal channels. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I’m going to move in with Kevin for a little while. Just while the condo is being remodeled for the baby, and retrofitted for security measures.”
I couldn’t help it. I stared at Kevin.
Kevin didn’t show a scrap of concern. Didn’t give off a single vibe that he was happy or sad about the arrangement. I’d seen the two of them together enough to know he was in love with Violet, even though she had no clue, and as far as I could tell, he was not willing to admit it to her.
But living together. Seriously?
“Seriously?” I said, because I am clever like that.
Violet nodded. “I could have rented a second condominium for a while, but the security may have been a problem. Kevin suggested I stay at his house, which is well guarded, magically and technologically, and since he has a guest room, I agreed.”
Kevin picked up his nearly empty coffee cup, took a drink, his gaze meeting mine over the top of his cup.
The man was hard to read, even for me, and I make a living off reading people. The only page I could read in the book of Kevin was that this was none of my damn business.
Maybe he was right. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me.
“You don’t care what the tabloids will say when they catch wind of this?” I asked.
“I’ve put some people in place to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Well, well. Look at who knew whom to bribe and how. Violet was good at playing this game. “All right, then. So don’t try to reach you at home, is what you’re saying?”
Violet twisted, as much as she was able, and dug into the purse hanging on the chair beside her. “Yes. Here’s the address, and the number at Kevin’s. My cell phone remains unchanged. If you need me, just call. And if they do tap my phone, I’ll find a way to let you know.”
She produced a piece of paper and handed it to me.
I tucked it into the back pocket of my jeans.
“Thanks,” I said. “How are you feeling?”
“Other than being as big as a house?” She laughed.
“You are not,” I said. “You look beautiful. Doesn’t she, Kevin?”
The man could set a stone on fire with that look. I just smiled innocently. Yes, I am cruel like that.
But as soon as Violet looked over at him, Kevin turned down the inferno and went back to Mr. Plain and Mild. I had no idea how he kept all those emotions he felt for Violet behind the proper, impersonal attentiveness of a bodyguard.
“You do,” Kevin said. “You look beautiful.”
Violet rolled her eyes, but she blushed. “You’re both crazy. Or blind. But thank you.” She patted Kevin’s hand. She didn’t see what that simple touch did to him, because she was looking at me instead.
I kept my gaze off Kevin. No need to torture the man. “So when’s the big move?”
“Last week,” she said.
Correction. She was very good at playing this game. I hadn’t even heard a hint of a rumor.
“I would have contacted you earlier, but on top of all this, I’ve been trying to get everything ready for the baby. I know I still have three months to go, but I don’t want to put it off to the last minute, just in case.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t the maternal type. I had very little idea of what a baby needed. Blanket, bottle, diapers. Was there more to it? Nola, my best friend, never had kids. And my lack of social life hadn’t afforded me many baby showers.
“Do you. . uh. . need me to do anything for you, for that?” I asked.
“No, no, I’ve got it. There’s still a lot of time; I’m just putting my nervous energy to good use. Making lists. A lot of lists. I like lists.”
“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?”
“Nope. And I won’t until he or she takes their first breath of air.” She picked up her cup again, took one last drink. That reminded me. I hadn’t finished my coffee, or even opened the bag with the scone yet.
“I do need to be going, though,” she said. “I have an appointment with the lawyers. If you need anything, or have any problems, I’d like you to let me know.” She stood, and I marveled at how her petite frame could be so rounded in front and otherwise look exactly the same.
Kevin was already on his feet, holding her coat out for her. All the sounds from the room came rushing in like someone had pulled plugs out of my ears. Kevin’s Mute spell was gone.
“I’ll call you when I move back into the condo, or if I hear anything about the legal actions.” Violet put on her coat. “And you call me if you are contacted by anyone, stockholders, members of the board, anyone. I want to know if they are offering you anything. . interesting in return for favors.”
“Like I’d have anything to do with this political business maneuvering crap,” I said.
“We all have our price,” she said pleasantly.
“Did you just tell me I’m going to sell you out?”
“I don’t think you would, no. You’re. .” She paused and gave me a critical look. Her eyebrows dipped. “What have you been doing lately, Allie? You look good.”
“Remodeling. Next door for the Hounds. Oh, and the whole three-meals-a-day thing is catching on.” Not lies. But not the whole truth. I’d been training my butt off. Physically and magically. And it showed. In all the right ways.
“Still seeing a self-defense teacher?”
“Yes.”
She nodded, but I had a feeling she didn’t think I was telling her the whole truth.
Note to self: tell my sibling never to lie to her.
“You were saying?” I prompted.
“Oh, right. Don’t get pregnant. It ruins your short-term memory.”
I was the last person she needed to explain memory loss to.
“Keep a journal,” I suggested, with as little sarcasm as possible.
She actually laughed at that. “I can’t believe I said that to you.” She pressed her fingertips against her lips. “Pregnant makes me a little stupid. I’m sorry.”
“At least you won’t be pregnant forever.” I gave her a crooked smile to take the sting out of my words.
“True. True. And I was saying you do have a price. We all do. It’s human nature. But you’re not easily bought.” She nodded. “You’re like your father in that. Unbreakable morals.”
I swear she and I had not known the same man.
My father, in my head, exhaled a moan, and the need, the loneliness, swelled in me.
“Take care, okay?” I said. “And let me know if you need anything. Anything I can do for you.” It came out soft, concerned. I didn’t know how much of it was me, and how much was my father.
Probably mostly me. When he tried to take control of my mouth, I got shoved into the back of my head and had to fight to regain control.
“I’ll be fine.” She looked around like she was missing something. Kevin handed her purse to her.
“Thank you,” she said. “I would have completely forgotten it. What would I do without you?”
He smiled back. Polite. Friendly. But I watched how he held his breath, how his shoulders tensed, how his fingers spread open as if trying to catch or hold something fleeting.
Something inside me hurt. That something was my father.
And yes, it worried me. My father was not a nice man when he was in pain.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Beckstrom,” Kevin murmured.
“Good night, Allie,” she said. “I’ll see you soon. And I’ll call if I hear anything has changed with the. . project.”
“Night, Kevin,” Zayvion said. Zayvion had been so quiet, I’d almost forgotten he was sitting there. This, I decided, was what it would be like to date the invisible man.
“Night,” he replied. “Coffee on me next time.”
“Let’s make it a beer,” Zay agreed. “Shoot some pool.”
“Pool sounds good. Give me a call, okay?”
I was pretty sure they weren’t really talking about coffee and pool. It wasn’t just Zay and Shamus who had a secret code.
Before Violet could open the door to let herself out, Kevin was there, bending over her, smooth, unhurried, holding the door for her.
They both stepped out into the night.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
Zay shrugged.
“Pool?” I asked. “You play pool?”
“Why do the most mundane things about me surprise you?” he asked.
“Because you never tell me any of this stuff.”
A corner of his mouth quirked up. “I play pool. Shoot hoops sometimes too. Any other sport you’re curious about?”
“Hockey? Polo?”
“Simultaneously. Trick is to keep the horses on their skates.”
I rolled my eyes. “Forget I asked.”
“No, I’ll show you sometime.”
“Deal. Horses on ice skates, Jones. Now, what were you and Kevin really talking about?”
“Business. Someone doesn’t like the idea of your father’s latest wife running the company.”
“I know that. She told me that. I mean the other thing.”
“What other thing?”
“Beer and pool.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “It’s beer and pool. One’s a drink. The other’s a game. That’s all. Ready to go?”
I let it slide since I didn’t want to cast a Mute spell when we could just talk about it at my house in a couple minutes. The coffee shop had quieted some. Enough I could hear the music, something that had a country beat, and a sitar. I took a quick look at the people still in the shop.
And noted Anthony was gone.
“When did Anthony leave?”
“After you sat down with Violet.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“The warehouse. To see if Davy was there. He wants to apologize.”
“Are you serious?”
“Always.”
Great. If Davy was there-and I thought he’d mentioned he was going to check on the place this evening-there’d be blood on the floor before I could dial 911. I rubbed at my eyes, thinking maybe I shouldn’t have promised Pike anything. Hounds were nothing but trouble.
“Listen,” I said, “if you want to head out, you can. I’ll go up there and mop up the blood and call the cops on someone.”
“When are you going to stop that?”
“Stop what?” I asked.
“Telling me to go away.”
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