Chapter Four
Taliyah
The over-brewed coffee with its cheap powdered creamer and copious amount of sugar tasted like ambrosia after the night I’d been through.
Maverick watched me sip it, knees braced against the side of my desk as he watched over me. My hands were shaking too badly to make the coffee myself, so he’d whipped up this monstrosity for me. Something about my new faerie form craved all forms of sugar, the way my human self used to crave steak. It was a deep, in-the-gut need for something your body lacked. I suspected that if a human scientist ever got their hands on a faerie corpse, the autopsy would show a metabolism similar to a hummingbird’s. Incredibly high output required equal input, or faeries would burn themselves out in a spectacular magical explosion. At least, that’s what I told myself whenever I caught myself visiting Sweeter Haunts for fudge three times in the same day.
Maverick waited until the shaking had subsided to touch me. I wasn’t as averse to comfort as Maverick, who’d distrusted everything and everyone on principle. But our families had something in common when you got right down to it. Intentional or not, growing up around first responders had shaped who I was, including some of the more toxic lies I told myself. That any sign of weakness would draw everyone down on you like starved piranhas. That people would think less of you if you let your mask slip. That they couldn’t possibly want the wildly insecure mess hiding just behind the facade. People couldn’t want the real you. Ever.
Or maybe, I thought with a sigh. It’s just you who can’t stand you.
Self-loathing much, Taliyah? I thought back. Get a grip.
Maverick pulled one hand free of my mug and grasped my arm gingerly by my wrist. The touch was so achingly gentle, my stupid heart gave a painful little squeeze in reply. Maverick might have been on the slender side, but he made up for it with his height and broad shoulders. He cut an imposing figure, no matter what angle you observed him from. It was hard to make a woman like me feel tiny.
But I did. I felt tiny and petite and so utterly feminine around him at times that it made me want to spit. I’d never been that woman. The one who hung the moon and the stars on a man before he deserved that trust. But I did trust Maverick, and that was equal parts thrilling and scary as hell. It made him one of the few people I’d kill for, no questions asked. It also meant there was one more person in my life who could destroy it utterly by leaving.
Maverick traced the map of delicate blue veins under the nearly translucent skin of my wrist. When I had my winter on, they looked more like spiderwebbing cracks in ice than veins. My pulse jumped when he pressed the pad of his thumb against my pulse and gave me very serious eye contact.
My breath caught in my throat. It was almost impossible to ignore the pull of those storm-gray eyes. The air between us zinged with the potential for magic. His grip tightened just a fraction before he forced a smile.
“I’m sorry if I was pushy back there,” he said. “On the phone, I mean. It was a stressful situation.”
That threw me. What the hell was he apologizing for? He was being chased by a mass of writhing tentacles and a werewolf on amphetamines. I’d chalked my bad mood up to things a hell of a lot less stressful than that. He hadn’t said anything pushy, in my opinion. I was about to open my mouth and tell him so when he continued, ignoring the baffled look on my face.
“I know I run my mouth sometimes,” he continued, glancing away, finally releasing me from the magnetic pull of his eyes. “And that’s bound to be annoying. It’s okay if you get pissed at me sometimes, Tally. I get it, really.”
It took an embarrassingly long time for my brain to catch up with his words. The meaning dawned on me almost a full minute later, puzzle pieces slotting into place to form an infuriatingly adorable picture. The big lug was trying to apologize. He thought I was acting like a basket case because of our last conversation.
I mean, what else could he assume? I’d hung up the phone abruptly and showed up thirty minutes later with more gusto for ass-kicking than usual. He’d been too busy running for his life to sense my distress through our bond. He had no idea what Aurea had said—what she’d forced me into. But instead of thinking that I was a huge bitch looking for a fight, he’d decided he was somehow at fault. The man was so attuned to my mood that he knew something was wrong, but so socially dense he assumed he was at fault instead of considering other factors.
I set my coffee aside and pushed out of my chair and, like I was on autopilot, I walked right up to him. Maverick had to put a hand out to steady himself when I looped my arms around his neck. Truth be told, I was as shocked as he was. But there was something within me that was urging me forward, and I allowed my logical side to be silenced for once. What was more, I muffled whatever well-meaning thing Maverick was about to say next, molding my mouth to his. There was one stunned second before his body responded, hands falling to my waist so he could pull me even closer. And in my own head was only shock. It was like my body had needed this closeness—like it hadn’t alerted my brain yet to what it was going to do and had, instead, just done it. And my brain was still struggling to get with the program.
My heart thundered when Maverick suddenly lifted me onto the desk, nudging my legs apart so that he could step between them.
What in the hell had I just started?
He deepened the kiss, his tongue suddenly seeking refuge in my mouth. And my tongue eagerly met his, like it had been waiting for this moment all my life.
Dear sweet lord the man was going to be the death of me…
But no matter how much I might want to, I absolutely could not rip Maverick’s clothes off in the precinct. It didn’t matter if I knew the camera’s blind spot. If I did something that unprofessional, I’d never be able to step foot in the building again. I wouldn’t allow myself.
I tore my mouth free of his and shoved at his chest. “I’m at work, Mav.”
Maverick’s tongue flicked out to touch his bottom lip, as though he could still taste me there. A flicker of heat woke in my belly, and it was hard work meeting his gaze again.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I kissed you.”
He chuckled. “I’m not sorry for that.”
I looked at him and breathed in deeply. “Neither am I.” I had to hold my hand out when he moved in closer. “But we can’t continue… whatever that was.”
“Right.” He nodded and back away again and then we both were silent for a few seconds as we sought to catch our breath. “Going back to the conversation we were in the middle of having,” he started. “Whatever I did—”
“—you didn’t do anything, you dolt,” I answered with a wispy chuckle.
He looked confused. “Then?”
“I was snippy over a stupid comment you made over the phone. And it was stupid to be upset about it. I mean—it’s so completely minor, in the grand scheme of things. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you for making your night miserable.”
His dark brows scrunched together. “I don’t understand.”
I shook my head, fighting back fresh gales of embarrassed laughter. I wasn’t letting myself go to pieces, but the rage was finding expression in other ways. Overreacting to trivial shit, apparently.
“Talking about threesomes bothered me,” I said.
“Threesomes?” Mav repeated, still clearly lost.
“You mentioned a threesome with the wolf and the tentacle creature.”
He looked at me. “Tally, that was a joke.”
I nodded. “I know, but… well, Jonathan asked to open our relationship for years, and I...” I felt my face flush and I ducked my chin. I never wanted to say the words aloud, let alone to Maverick, but he had to understand why this subject was so sensitive for me. “I thought about it. A lot. I knew that if we did have an open marriage, he would stay. So… well, that was what he did. With or without my agreement, actually. And I felt pathetic for years because of it—that I was so needy that I couldn’t just ask him for a divorce, even though I was miserable.”
“He was a mind-bending sex demon, Tally. You couldn’t have controlled your behavior if you wanted to. The only reason he couldn’t completely enslave your mind was your latent magic.”
I snorted, horrified when a tear fell. I had bigger things to cry about than this personal humiliation and yet, here I was—crying. God, it was just so… embarrassing.
“I know that now. But back then, I thought I was human, remember? And the feelings of self-hatred didn’t just go away… even when I realized I really had no choice in the matter.” I sighed, long and hard. Jonathan hadn’t just fed off me without my consent for years, he’d taken part of who I was. He’d taken a powerful woman and he’d broken her down because it amused him. That bastard had given me so many complexes, I should have opened a housing association. He'd ruined me for people who were actually worth my time. “Do you know how much baggage I’m carrying around?” I asked, sighing as I shook my head. “Who would want to sign on for dealing with this shit for one lifetime, let alone how fucking long eternity turns out to be, since I’m now immortal.” I wasn’t even aware that I’d voiced the thought until it was out and then I felt my cheeks burn.
“I would.”
I looked up at him. “You would what?”
“I would sign on,” he answered, kissing one of my fingertips gently. “I already did, in fact.”
“To save my life.”
“You say that like it’s a small thing,” he said with a laugh. “I happen to care about your life a great deal.”
Fresh tears stung my eyes, completely against my will. “Stop doing that!”
“What?”
“Making me cry! It’s pissing me off!”
Maverick laughed and leaned in to clear away the tears with the pad of his thumb. “I’ll help you get rid of the evidence.”
“Not something you want to say out loud in a police station,” I said dryly, pointedly ignoring the pleased smile on his face.
“Ah, true. Want me to assume the position? So you can frisk me?”
I flicked him behind the ear and grinned at his small yelp. I wasn’t sure how he’d managed to completely upend my bad mood in a matter of minutes, but I was grateful for the fact that he was here. That he was allowed in on my secret. I couldn’t have done this without him.
“I’ll stop talking about threesomes,” Maverick said. “I’d never be able to share you with anyone else anyway, so it’s a moot point.”
“Thanks.”
He paused. “So, if I’m not the cause of your bad mood, what gives?”
This was the tricky part. I got up, retrieved some paper towels to dry the rest of the tears that had wet my cheeks, and then ordered him to sit opposite me.
“Something happened and I need your help to solve the problem. Just promise me you won’t lose it when I tell you what happened.”
“No promises,” he said, face darkening. “What’s happened?”
So, I told him. All of it. “In short, I think the headmistress has been watching a little too much Criminal Minds,” I finished.
It was a weak joke, and probably not worth a pity laugh. But Maverick didn’t visibly react. His face remained as stoic as ever, his eyes fixed in the middle-distance, contemplating something I couldn’t begin to guess. It was better than the anger I’d been expecting, but something about the calm, almost detached way he was reacting spooked me. It just wasn’t Maverick. Something was wrong.
Okay, everything was wrong with this scenario, but this was just a fresh drizzle of anxiety on my panic sundae. I wanted to ask what he was thinking about, but wasn’t sure if I’d like the answer.
“Everyone watches those shows and thinks they know how police work is done,” I continued when he said nothing. “It’s usually an oversimplification, if not an outright fabrication. DNA tests aren’t done in the blink of an eye. A lot of the job is paperwork, and plenty of cops go their entire lives without having to draw their weapons.”
Still nothing. Maverick’s mouth was moving, but no sound came out. There was no subtle stirring of energies around him, so I knew it wasn’t the words to a spell.
“I guess what I’m saying is that Aurea’s painted me into a tight corner here. She’ll expect results quickly, and she’ll want me to prioritize this case over my work. How the hell do I explain to my deputies that I’m going to be on another case that’s completely out of my jurisdiction? I can’t even mention it’s a murder case, or they’d insist on joining the investigation. It means I have to do this off the books, and you know I hate that.”
“Aurea,” he said.
The word came out a strangled whisper, a sound so raw that it hurt to listen to. His hands clenched into fists around the edge of my desk. The wood groaned under the strain, and I watched cracks form in the cheap wood. Police departments in small towns could rarely afford good office equipment. It would be easy for him to take chunks away from the desk if he was trying.
“Mav?” I asked tentatively.
“Au-re-a,” he repeated, lips peeling back from his teeth in a snarl as he enunciated each syllable. “Threatened to kill you and your kids.”
“Yes, but that’s no excuse for you to manhandle my desk. Mind taking your hands off it? I don’t want to have to replace this one for at least a few years.”
Maverick didn’t reply. He didn’t move. Hell, he was barely breathing. The intensity of his gray eyes was blistering.
No... no, it really was warm in here. Sweat popped along my brow and the nape of my neck, and it wasn’t because someone had bumped against the thermostat. There was a subtle charge in the air, power vibrating the molecules around us so quickly that vapor actually curled into being. More alarmingly, shadows loomed from beneath my desk, smoky fingers forming, grasping desperately at the air, before rejoining the rest of the black oozing across the walls and ceiling.
I stepped into him, turning his head so he’d be forced to look at me. But it wasn’t Maverick glaring black at me. Instead of his dark, penetrating gaze, I saw only crimson. Blood had burst in his eyes, blotting out his pupils and irises before spreading rapidly to cover his sclera. There was someone in those eyes, but it wasn’t Maverick.
“Shit,” I hissed. “Damn it, no, Mav! Fight it!”
His face didn’t twitch. I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me, or if he was too far gone to the blood madness to pay attention. I had to do something fast. But what? My usual tactic was to hit the enemy with wind and snow or encase them in ice. But what was I supposed to do if the danger was coming from a friend? I couldn’t hurt him. I couldn’t shake him out of it. What the hell could I do to reach him?
A thought occurred to me a moment later. It was so absurd that I would have laughed at myself if the situation had been less dire. I’d never applied fairy tale logic to my magical problems before, but there was a first time for everything, I figured.
So, I pushed up on tiptoe, seized his chin, and dragged Maverick’s lips down to mine for the second time in the last ten minutes.