Chapter 35
Chapter
Thirty-Five
I gape at him, bewildered. “Where did you come from?”
“I live here.” He folds his arms across his chest, lounging back against one of the white brick columns that lines the porch. “Surely you gathered that much from our little chat.”
“You live here? Like, on the porch of the historical society?” I’m not being sarcastic—who the hell knows what witches do?—but under the light-brown prickle of his five-o’-clock stubble, his jaw clenches even further. The local dentists must’ve sent up celebratory flares when he and Donovan moved to town.
“Yes, Rune,” he says from between gritted teeth. “My residence is underneath that rocking chair.” He stabs a finger at the handcrafted object in question. “I piss in the corner whenever the need arises. You know, to mark my territory.”
Okay, so this isn’t going well. “There’s no need to be such a dick.”
His brows rise. “I beg to differ. And I’m here because you’re here. I told you, I’m drawn to power. About an hour and a half ago, I felt a surge. When I trace it to its source, what do I find? You and Donovan, inside this building. And when he comes storming out, his pants are ripped, his shirt is wrinkled, and he’s even more of an uptight asshole than usual. So, I repeat”—he pushes off the column, glaring down at me with those unnerving blue eyes—“what did you do?”
I’m getting damn tired of being glared at by the two of them. “I tripped.”
Cooper blinks at me, like a large, incredulous owl. “You what?”
“I tripped , okay? And when I fell, I knocked him over. That’s how he got all…ripped and wrinkled. I didn’t have my wicked way with him on the table of the historical society’s board room. Satisfied?”
Cooper’s face goes through a bizarre series of metamorphoses: annoyance, comprehension and, finally, amusement. “That’s quite an image,” he drawls, leaning back against the column again. “Also, oddly specific.”
“It’s the truth! You can ask any of the fifty people who were probably spying on us through their windows. I’m surprised it hasn’t hit the Sapphire Springs Facebook page yet.”
“Let’s look, shall we?” He cocks a brow, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Ah yes, there it is. You, on top of my brother, looking like you’re about to violate twenty public decency statutes. Let’s see… Oh, how charming. #donorune #ronovan #steamyinthesprings.”
His delivery is so deadpan, I can’t tell if he’s joking. I wrench his phone from his hand, earning an outraged growl, and stare down at the screen. And…yeah, he’s not lying. There we are: Donovan staring up at me, his hands fisted on my hips. Me, straddling him, my hair spilling down everywhere. And Ethan, in the background, looking bemused.
“Oh, no,” I mumble, more to myself than to Cooper. “Who posted this? I want to wring their neck. And then maybe sauté their liver with some fava beans.”
“Please do.” Cooper snatches his phone back, scowling down at it. “Nothing would give me more pleasure than arresting you again and sticking you in a cell where I can keep an eye on you. I told you to stay away from my brother. Not tackle him and give him a lap dance.”
Hot blood surges into my cheeks. “It was an accident! And I have stayed away from him.”
“I beg to differ.” He waves the phone at me. “Exhibit A. Also”—he jerks his head at the building behind me—“Exhibit B.”
“I fell, Cooper. And we work together! I have no choice about that. Not if I want to keep my job.” First Mrs. Fontaine, then him. What is so hard to understand about this? “I don’t have a family to back me up. I don’t have a safety net. Every single good thing in my life exists because I worked my ass off for it. I need this job to keep a roof over my head and pineapple pizza in my mouth. Unfortunately, Donovan comes with it. But the project we’re collaborating on is finite, and then I’ll go back to working at home, from my little cave. Okay?”
Cooper’s mouth twitches. “Pineapple pizza is disgusting. I knew I couldn’t trust you.”
Oh. My. God. This entire discussion is a waste of time. Unless I plan to quiz Cooper about his presence here—and I’m not entirely sure if I should, until I talk to this mysterious High Priestess—then the less I have to do with him, the better.
“If one of us shouldn’t trust the other, I think you’ve got the shoe on the wrong foot,” I tell him, hoisting my purse strap higher on my shoulder. “I have to go.”
His brows lower, as if he can’t make sense of what I’m saying. “You don’t trust me?”
He looks so affronted by the very idea, it forces a laugh from my throat. “Why should I? The first time I meet you, you arrest me. Then you sideswipe Donovan’s car. The next time I see you, you interrupt my conversation, explain you’ve got secret superpowers, and refuse to answer any of my questions. Your own brother can’t stand you. Now here you are, ambushing me like a stalker and criticizing my pizza preferences. Tell me, what’s to trust?”
Cooper’s jaw drops open. A breeze sweeps through the porch, ruffling his hair, and he completes its dishevelment by shoving his hand through it. “I’m not a stalker, Rune. I’m the guy who arrests the stalkers. And you tackled me before I slapped the cuffs on you. Something you seem to make a habit of.” He shakes the phone, with its incontrovertible evidence. “As for the car wreck, that’s on you, not me. If you weren’t leaking power all over the place like a goddamn sieve, I wouldn’t have lost control that way.” He bites out ‘lost control’ like a curse. “Donovan and I have…history. It has nothing to do with you. And I told you why I couldn’t answer your questions. You should trust me more for honoring the protocols I’m sworn to, not less.”
I eye him, my desire to punch him in the face only tempered by the knowledge that it would surely end with me in a cell. I have no desire to reinvigorate my arrest record, potentially losing my job and my best opportunity to track down my parents’ killers in one fell swoop. “I was saving your life. And don’t pin your inability to control yourself on me. That sounds a hell of a lot like blaming the victim, Cooper. Surely they teach you better than that in cop school. Now, either give me useful information or get out of my way. I have to pack.”
An expression I can’t quite decipher ripples across his face—disbelief, maybe, with a chaser of respect. His tongue darts out, tracing a path across his lower lip, but not in a lascivious way. It looks…like he’s tasting something. Namely, me. “What are you?” he whispers hoarsely.
“I’m in a rush, is what I am,” I tell him. “So, if you don’t mind…”
I gesture beyond him, at the steps of the historical society that lead down to the sidewalk. But he doesn’t budge. “I do, actually. Come here.” He takes hold of my sleeve before I can protest and tugs me around the corner of the wraparound porch, out of view of the street and anyone who might come through the double doors.
“What are you do?—”
“Be quiet for a minute. If that’s possible.” Dropping my sleeve, he backs away from me. “I talked to…certain people about you. You shouldn’t exist, Rune.”
Well, this is a new low. “Excuse me?” My voice emerges in a squeak.
“That came out wrong. But you know what I mean. You should be dead. Why aren’t you?” He peers down at me like my existence is a personal affront.
“Wow, you really know how to flatter a girl.” I roll my eyes at him. “You probably know more about me than I do, Cooper. And if you talked to that High Priestess of yours, you can just say so. You don’t have to hide behind all this ridiculous subterfuge, like some kind of magical 007.” First Mrs. Fontaine with her higher authority , like she’s talking about Hebrew National hot dogs rather than some wacko mystical politician. Then, this.
“Don’t say her name!” His blue eyes widen in alarm. “You’re messing with things that are way over your head, Rune. And your power…” He shakes his head. “When you…fell…on top of Donovan that way, I felt the surge five blocks over. I don’t think the spikes in the ley line are just about you. I think they have something to do with the two of you, together.”
A shiver wracks me, followed by the memory of the strange electricity that rippled through me when Donovan’s body pressed against mine. “That’s ridiculous,” I say feebly.
“Is it? Weren’t the two of you together, the first time it happened?”
“Well, yes. But not the second time.”
“The damage was already done.” Cooper swallows hard, his Adam’s apple shifting above the collar of his uniform shirt. “Ley lines are the source of all the magical power in the world, Rune. If they malfunction, so will our gifts. Imagine powerful magicians all over the country, unable to control themselves.”
Now it’s my turn to swallow. “You mean…”
He nods grimly. “Natural disasters. Ghosts rising from the dead. A hundred other things I don’t have the time to explain to you. It’ll make hitting you with my car look like a picnic.” He leans toward me, as if desperate to make me understand. “My…other boss…is trying to get to the bottom of this. I know about the vision you had, Rune. About what happened to your parents, and the symbol you saw. And about who’s responsible. We need to drive them out of the shadows. Then you’ll get justice. But in the meantime, I reiterate—stay the hell away from my brother, before you bring us all down.”
The hell with the ley lines. A week ago, I didn’t even know they existed. And I’m sick and tired of getting ordered around. “No can do. I’m going on an overnight retreat for Smashbox tomorrow. And so is Donovan.”
Cooper jerks back, as if I’ve slapped him. “That can’t happen.”
“Well, it is happening,” I say irritably. “And I think it could be a good thing. You know that justice you mentioned? I’m not just going to sit by and let other people get it for me. I’m the one who lost my parents. This is my past and my future.”
“It’s all our futures! Don’t you understand that?” He snatches up the hand bearing the faded brand, his eyes fixed on my palm. “This isn’t normal, Rune. It means…they…are rising. We need to put a stop to all of this, and we can’t do that if you go galivanting off. And you especially can’t go galivanting off with my damn brother, who you’re destined to kill !”
“Don’t tell me what to do. And let go of me,” I snarl, trying to yank my hand away.
His grip is iron. “Not until you tell me you understand.”
“I understand I barely know you, and what I know, I don’t like. And if you don’t let go of me right this moment, I’m going to scream bloody murder, cop or no cop.”
Cooper’s eyes narrow. I glare right back at him. But he doesn’t let go.
And so that’s what Donovan sees, when he comes around the corner: Cooper holding my hand, the two of us inches apart, locked in an intense stare-down.
Freaking fantastic.