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Authors: Tiffany Allee
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Sanderson cared about me.
My breath caught and my heart thundered in my chest. I almost wanted to give in. Almost. If only to give this handsome man what he wanted. If only to revel in the fact that he had feelings for me. If only to let someone take care of me, even just for a minute.
But I couldn’t do that. My pride wouldn’t let me, and neither would my good sense. I was an adult, not some kid looking for someone to worry about her. And Mason had made his feelings clear the year before. Even if it seemed like he cared for me, he didn’t care for me in any lasting way. Not enough to want me in his life.
“What if he’s the coin’s owner?” I asked. Another lie hiding as an omission. Guilt pressed against my mind, rising from my heart. If all the otherworlder auras didn’t give me a blasted migraine during this case, the guilt certainly would.
He tensed then rubbed his face with his hands. “Fuck. You’re right. You can’t very well ID him if you aren’t there.”
I nodded and gave him a half-smile. He returned the expression with a sardonic grin. The look was so rare for him it shot straight through me. I swallowed hard and tore my eyes away to watch the mortuary, fearing if I looked at him for one more second I’d blurt out the truth.
Perhaps sensing my change in mood, Mason watched the mortuary silently.
We sipped our coffee and shared some beef jerky that Mason carried in his glove compartment. Not my snack of choice, but the lycan seemed to enjoy it. Finally, the funeral service ended and people began filing out two and three at a time. Even from across the street I could feel several different species of oh-dubs, mainly vampires. But at this distance, they sort of melded together and the energy was weaker. It made it easier for me to concentrate, but it also meant I was surprised when Nicolas Chevalier walked out, holding Mary Stone’s arm and supporting her weight as she leaned against him.
“What’s he doing here?”
Mason shrugged. “Probably a polite vampire thing. Guessing he’s here to represent Luc.”
“I suppose.” But something about the way the vampire held the succubus’s arm didn’t sit right with me. Mary seemed stiff and uncomfortable, but that could very well be because she was at her husband’s funeral.
The SUV roared to life and I jumped a little. “Are we going to the cemetery, too?” My stomach let out a loud noise, its vote obvious.
Mason snorted. “Let’s get some lunch and then go talk to Isaiah. I don’t think we’re going to find out much more here. Waste of time.”
“Perhaps,” I said, and glanced out the window to the spot where Nicolas Chevalier and the widow had stood. I wasn’t convinced that there was no value in our trip.
Despite the chill breeze whipping its way through the city, and the snow and ice covering the ground, Mason suggested that we eat from a hot dog vendor–outside. Seeing the perspiration touching his brow after he had kept the car temperature high enough for me to be comfortable all morning, I agreed.
We drove down to the city, exchanging a few words during the trip. I half expected him to change his mind again and decide that I shouldn’t come along with him to question Isaiah, and I didn’t want to tip the unsteady balance between us. So I stayed quiet.
Mason parked in an underground parking garage on Michigan Avenue and we snagged hotdogs from a vendor a short walk away. With my hat and gloves on, and my coat pulled tight around my body, the cold wasn’t too difficult to bear. Finding an unoccupied bench near the hotdog vendor, we sat and munched on our dogs, eager to finish them before they froze.
I watched Mason as I chewed my food. His posture was relaxed and his face more open than I was used to seeing on him. “You don’t care to be indoors all the time, do you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I suppose it’s a lycan thing. Half-beasts like to be under the sky.”
“I’m surprised that you don’t live
My breath caught and my heart thundered in my chest. I almost wanted to give in. Almost. If only to give this handsome man what he wanted. If only to revel in the fact that he had feelings for me. If only to let someone take care of me, even just for a minute.
But I couldn’t do that. My pride wouldn’t let me, and neither would my good sense. I was an adult, not some kid looking for someone to worry about her. And Mason had made his feelings clear the year before. Even if it seemed like he cared for me, he didn’t care for me in any lasting way. Not enough to want me in his life.
“What if he’s the coin’s owner?” I asked. Another lie hiding as an omission. Guilt pressed against my mind, rising from my heart. If all the otherworlder auras didn’t give me a blasted migraine during this case, the guilt certainly would.
He tensed then rubbed his face with his hands. “Fuck. You’re right. You can’t very well ID him if you aren’t there.”
I nodded and gave him a half-smile. He returned the expression with a sardonic grin. The look was so rare for him it shot straight through me. I swallowed hard and tore my eyes away to watch the mortuary, fearing if I looked at him for one more second I’d blurt out the truth.
Perhaps sensing my change in mood, Mason watched the mortuary silently.
We sipped our coffee and shared some beef jerky that Mason carried in his glove compartment. Not my snack of choice, but the lycan seemed to enjoy it. Finally, the funeral service ended and people began filing out two and three at a time. Even from across the street I could feel several different species of oh-dubs, mainly vampires. But at this distance, they sort of melded together and the energy was weaker. It made it easier for me to concentrate, but it also meant I was surprised when Nicolas Chevalier walked out, holding Mary Stone’s arm and supporting her weight as she leaned against him.
“What’s he doing here?”
Mason shrugged. “Probably a polite vampire thing. Guessing he’s here to represent Luc.”
“I suppose.” But something about the way the vampire held the succubus’s arm didn’t sit right with me. Mary seemed stiff and uncomfortable, but that could very well be because she was at her husband’s funeral.
The SUV roared to life and I jumped a little. “Are we going to the cemetery, too?” My stomach let out a loud noise, its vote obvious.
Mason snorted. “Let’s get some lunch and then go talk to Isaiah. I don’t think we’re going to find out much more here. Waste of time.”
“Perhaps,” I said, and glanced out the window to the spot where Nicolas Chevalier and the widow had stood. I wasn’t convinced that there was no value in our trip.
Despite the chill breeze whipping its way through the city, and the snow and ice covering the ground, Mason suggested that we eat from a hot dog vendor–outside. Seeing the perspiration touching his brow after he had kept the car temperature high enough for me to be comfortable all morning, I agreed.
We drove down to the city, exchanging a few words during the trip. I half expected him to change his mind again and decide that I shouldn’t come along with him to question Isaiah, and I didn’t want to tip the unsteady balance between us. So I stayed quiet.
Mason parked in an underground parking garage on Michigan Avenue and we snagged hotdogs from a vendor a short walk away. With my hat and gloves on, and my coat pulled tight around my body, the cold wasn’t too difficult to bear. Finding an unoccupied bench near the hotdog vendor, we sat and munched on our dogs, eager to finish them before they froze.
I watched Mason as I chewed my food. His posture was relaxed and his face more open than I was used to seeing on him. “You don’t care to be indoors all the time, do you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I suppose it’s a lycan thing. Half-beasts like to be under the sky.”
“I’m surprised that you don’t live
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