Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Sorcha held up her phone. “I have a witch on speed dial.” While Trish might not be wicked, she could be evil, depending on the topic.
And her mood.
But in all honesty, Trish was the only reason Sorcha was still here.
How many times had she called Trish, crying after she’d lost her sister?
She couldn’t begin to count them all. Not once in all these years had Trish rolled Sorcha’s calls to voicemail.
And Sorcha wouldn’t have blamed her for doing it.
It’d been such an awful time.
Even at the funeral, it’d been Trish who’d held her hand and promised her that one day she’d learn to smile again.
That they would find the one responsible.
Justice will be met.
Sorcha clung to that hope, just as she held her friend in a special place in her heart.
Luke passed a knowing look at her as if he heard her thoughts. And with him, he just might be listening. “Patricia Owen. The Grand Witch of Nashville…how is Trish doing?”
The question surprised her. “You know her?”
“The devil knows all witches. Haven’t you heard?”
She snorted. “That’s not true. For one thing, Trish doesn’t believe in the devil. He’s not part of her religion.”
“You don’t have to believe in something for it to be real. I don’t believe in love, but millions of beings would tell me I’m an idiot and that it exists.”
She was surprised by his confession. “You really don’t believe in Cupid?”
He gave her an irritated smirk. “Only fools and children believe in something that made up. I rank him right up there with the Tooth Fairy.”
“And the Taj Mahal is what?”
“A building in India.”
She tsked at him. “An eternal, enduring testament to love.”
“A building,” Luke repeated.
“You are jaded.”
“I’m a realist with eyes. Only thing love is good for is sending deluded souls to Hell because they bought into that snake oil and drank it whole.”
She couldn’t argue that with him given the fact that those being sent to Hell fell within his wheelhouse, and he was the resident expert. “I feel bad for you.”
That actually caused him to slow down. “You feel sorry for me?”
“Yeah, I do. Love might be corrupted and abused by some, but it’s real. For better or worse.”
He inclined his head to her. “The last thing I want is to force my opinion on anyone. If you want to believe in love…more power to you.”
“Now you’re patronizing me.”
“I’m really not, Sorcha. I envy you the ability to stand by your belief given the nightmares we’ve seen.
You look at someone and you think they have someone else’s best interest at heart.
I look at someone and I see them looking at the other person as an extension of themselves or a tool to be used.
An enemy they’re conspiring to take down.
Looking for a way to leverage the relationship to benefit them and not the object of their affection. ”
“Are you saying your fiercely protective mother sees you as an extension of herself?”
“Hell, yes.” Wide-eyed, Helly sat up in the backseat and leaned over to stare at Sorcha. “He’s her sacred embryo. He has no life outside of her and if he tries, she might eat his ankles just to hobble him so he can’t stray far from her.”
Her jaw fell open. “You’re serious?”
Helly nodded fiercely. “Mama is very possessive of her property and Luke is definitely hers. She doesn’t share him with anyone. Not even his father.”
That was a scary thought. No wonder Luke felt like he did. His father threw him out for no reason and his mother thought of him as…
A chew toy? Weird and gross analogy considering it was his mother they were talking about, but given what Helly said, it might not be far off the mark.
She shivered, then decided to change the subject. “So who’s this witch you’re talking about?”
“An old friend of Bernadette’s. They went to high school together.”
That was interesting, indeed. “Did Bernadette introduce you?”
He nodded as Helly returned to her spot in the backseat. “You’ll like her.”
“I like most people.”
He gave Sorcha a disbelieving scowl. “Since when?”
“Always.”
Luke snorted. “Oh, okay. If you want to believe that. Far be it from me to destroy your delusions.”
Though his tone was teasing, it still irritated her. “I’m not delusional. I’m a people person.”
He scoffed at Sorcha’s words. “Have you seen yourself around others? You’re always fidgeting.
You have a moat wider than the Grand Canyon.
For someone who likes them, you sure go out of your way to keep them as far away from you as possible.
Dodging questions. Deflecting. Trust me, you are not a people person. ”
Damn. He wasn’t being a jerk. The bastard was really observant.
He’s a detective, idiot.
Of course he’d pay attention to something like that. It was actually unnerving how that intense amber gaze of his took in everything. Stripped down everyone he passed.
Even fully clothed, she felt naked.
“Do you always know what someone’s thinking?” she asked.
“Most of the time, I choose not to pull any individual thoughts out of the chaos I hear. It’s exhausting enough to be in my head.
Last thing I want is to hear the petty concerns of others.
” He paused, then deepened his voice into a mocking tone.
“My feet hurt. I hate my boss. Why do they always screw up my order. My ex is a lying jackass who should be run over by a bus…” He sighed heavily.
“Ninety-nine percent of all thoughts are wasted, and I have better things to do, so I block it out.”
“You can do that?”
That evil grin flashed. “I can do a lot of things. Some much more interesting and pleasurable than others.”
That intended innuendo gave her goosebumps, even in this wretched heat. “What exactly are your powers again?” Yes, she kept asking that one question. At this point, she was hoping to wear him down until he gave her the information she wanted.
Or at least annoy him enough that he would eventually answer.
“Mine to bear and use…sparingly. Believe it or not, I don’t like taking unfair advantage of others.”
That was new and unexpected. “Doesn’t that fly in the face of your demon persona?”
“Remember, he’s not really a demon.” Helly flounced back to her seat.
They kept saying that. Maybe it was time she started believing them because he didn’t act like a demon.
He was an enigma that was unlike anyone she’d ever met.
Which made her wonder something. “How many cases have you worked since you’ve been at Infernal Affairs?”
Luke shrugged. “Don’t know.”
She found that hard to believe. She always kept a running tally of how many cases she worked on a small board. Her goal was to close every one. So far, she’d been lucky. She’d closed the majority of hers…
But there was always the handful that refused to be solved. Those that kept her up at night, wondering what fact she’d missed. What piece of evidence had eluded her.
How the poor families were coping with their undeserved heartbreak.
So, she found it difficult to believe that Luke didn’t keep records about his. Was it possible that he didn’t care?
Luke shrugged nonchalantly. “I never look at what I’ve done. Only what I need to be doing. The past holds nothing for me. It’s just a bad nightmare and who needs those?”
And it was an anchor that forever held her tethered to that one cold January night that had changed everything in her life. That one second when the police had shown up on her parents’ doorstep to tell them that Siobhan would never find her way home.
It was as eternal as the anger she still felt over the fact that her sister’s ghost hadn’t come to her.
Why could she see other ghosts and not Shy? Why had her sister avoided her? It hurt on a level that defied explanation.
And it was one she’d never understand. Any more than she’d fathom why her sister had to die so young and so tragically.
Life wasn’t fair and that unfairness made her want to scream until her throat bled. Time hadn’t made any part of this easier to bear. In some ways, it was worse now. When her sister had first died, there had been a strange numbness that clung to her.
For three months, she hadn’t shed a single tear.
Not until she’d accidentally spilled Siobhan’s favorite perfume in the room they’d grown up in. That one stupid act had sliced through the cocoon that had shielded her from agony.
Sorcha had screamed and then wept for the next six months. Nothing and no one, not even Trish, had been able to stop those tears that had flowed even while she slept.
To this day, she choked up every time she thought of her sister.
Every happy memory was tainted because Siobhan wasn’t here to share it with her.
Sorcha still had her sister’s number programmed into her phone. From time to time, she’d even call it just to hear Shy’s voice again when her voicemail picked up.
Hey caller! This is Siobhan, not Sorcha.
If you’re actually calling me and not my twin, I’m busy chasing dreams. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.
Unless you’re a creditor or SPAM. Then you can kiss my ass.
If this is Sorcha…text me, bitch! And if you’re my parents, sorry for the language.
Yes, you taught me better. Love you. Toodles.
God, how she missed her sister and her off-beat humor and optimism. The world was a much darker place without Shy in it.
No doubt that was why their parents had kept Shy’s phone active all this time.
It was hard to let go. Even harder because they had no explanation. No real closure.
Clearing her throat, she sighed. “I like knowing how many cases I’ve worked and solved.” How many families had a closure that forever eluded her and her parents.
He glanced over to her. “Oh, I can answer how many unsolved I have. None. I always solve them.”
She arched a brow at that. “You have no unsolved cases? At all?”
“Not with Infernal Affairs. The only thing I can’t solve is who knifed me in the back. But I will find them and when I do—”
“There will be hell to pay,” she finished for him.