Chapter 24
As they walked out of the apothecary, Oliver sensed they were both too stunned to speak.
Gods, it was hard to take in, but there was no stepping away now, no pretending the Dark Dimension he had witnessed would just disappear.
But how he wished it would. Because through all these revelations, Oliver’s biggest fear was for Clare.
As they reached the car, he rapped out, “My mind is made up. I’m taking you off the case.”
She gifted him her best Clare Doyle glower. “I totally disagree, sir. I need to stay front and center in this case.”
He glowered back. “Did you hear a word Waldo said?
“Did you?” She raised her brows.
Oliver thinned his lips. “We can’t risk you being abducted.”
“We have to.” She set her stubborn little chin, eyes sparking gray and gold and green.
Oliver sighed in exasperation. It made sense now—she had magick running through her veins, and necromancy at that.
Gods, she would shock the dead out of their graves with her argumentative nature. “We’ll talk in the car,” he growled.
“Don’t be a bastard about this—sir,” she said, so sweetly he almost thought he’d misheard. And then she smiled at him in a way that made him want to put her over his knee and spank her pert little ass.
The image was so delectable he strode round to the passenger door and ripped it open to stop himself from acting on it. “Damn it, Clare, just get in the car will you?”
She looked like she was about to argue some more, then changed her mind and folded into the passenger seat.
When he got in and belted up, she asked, “Are we going to the station?”
“Not immediately.”
She raised her brows. “Surely you’re not planning to withhold information from the team?”
“I can’t think from whom I learned that trick.” When he glanced at her, he saw the smile still hovering on her pretty mouth.
She’s a match for you.
She is more than your match.
She is your mate.
“Are you worried what they will think—about us?” she asked as he started the car.
Oliver shifted uncomfortably. “Obviously there was a level of intimacy last night that crossed professional boundaries, and I would not want that to reflect badly—”
“On you?”
“For fuck’s sake Clare, no. I have nothing to lose. I’m trying to protect your career.”
She gave a huffy little grunt and sank low in her seat.
“I need to reflect on this more and come up with a plan,” he muttered, scraping the gears as they took off into the early morning traffic.
She coughed. He glanced at her, and she raised her brows. “Just you, sir?”
He sighed. “We. As partners. You and me.” He couldn’t ignore the other implication of that word: partners. Their shared intimacy hung in the air between them.
She muttered something he couldn’t quite hear, and they fell silent.
Finally, Clare said, “Waldo greeted you like a long-lost brother.”
He was grateful she’d changed the subject to something less emotive, if only for a brief respite.
“After Emerson took me back to his home when he found me wandering the wastelands, Waldo was just a baby. It was a huge act of trust on Emerson’s part to take a depraved vampire into his family home. Waldo grew up alongside me there.”
“Gosh, how old is Waldo now?”
“He’d be at least ninety-five years old.
Warlocks can live to be over two hundred years—Emerson only died a few years ago.
I grieved his loss deeply. So yeah, I guess Waldo was like a little brother to me.
Then I went away to train in the police academy, up over the mountains, and worked in other PDs.
We met again when I finally came back to Motham to work as a DC.
We haven’t seen each other that much since, but our deep bond is always there.
” He hesitated. “I don’t mention it, and I doubt he does either—it’s the distant past—but I am indebted to his father, and their family, for all they did for me. ”
“So you trust his judgment.”
“Implicitly.”
“Then trust him on this, Oliver.” Her voice had softened, and he relaxed hearing his name on her lips. They drove on through the central district and she suddenly said, excitedly, “Oh my goddess, a shakta stall.”
“A what?”
Her eyes rounded as she swiveled to look at him. “You can’t tell me you’ve never had one. Cheese and puff pastry, onion and spices. So yummy.”
He shook his head. If it was vegetarian, he usually didn’t bother.
“Could we stop and buy one?” she pleaded. “I’ve had no breakfast, and it’s been a fucking huge morning.”
“Fair enough. But you need to stay in the car, for your own safety. I will go order.”
“There’s a little eating area out back of the stall—please, let’s just sit out there.”
He cast her a frown. But it was quiet, there were few folks around, and it was early still. He guessed it was safe.
He drew up the car and in seconds she’d hopped out, slamming the door and practically skipping to the little stall. “Would you like the same as me?”
He nodded and heard her eagerly order double cheese shaktas with pickles.
He stood shielding her while she ordered, glancing around, but the street was deserted. Still, after what they’d just heard, he couldn’t help imagining risks to her safety at every turn.
A bare minute later, warm pastries wrapped in paper, they sat down at a corner table.
“Oliver, I’m not leaving the case.”
He responded stiffly. “I meant step away while we re-evaluate. I didn’t explain myself well, I apologize.”
“You seem to be getting good at that, sir.”
“Explaining myself?”
“No, apologizing.”
“You are cheeky at times, Detective Doyle.”
“Thank you, sir. I aim for an outstanding level of cheek at all times.”
Oliver shook his head, chuckling despite himself.
Then, bracing for a fight, he said, “Clare, this case is far more complex and dangerous than any of us realized. Knowing that your blood is the most powerful of all the Golden Bloods, I can’t…
I can’t risk you disappearing, without… without knowing how to get you back. ”
“I get that, but if I go into hiding now, how will we get more intel on their movements? Waldo said my blood is integral to solving this crime. I mean, it’s hard to take in, but…”
She stopped and bit her lip. Gently, he prompted, “Go on, I’m listening.”
“This might sound like I’ve got tickets on myself, but I’ve always sensed I was different…
My way of interacting with the world, my belief as a kid that I could talk to the dead, sometimes I swear I almost saw their souls…
And then, the way I was ostracized, considered a weirdo by other kids, even called one of the dead, it kind of falls into place now.
I’m putting the pieces of the puzzle together, and maybe…
maybe.” She shook her head. “Maybe this was meant to be…” She stared at the tablecloth as she said quietly, “I mean us, our erm, our connection, I guess, and both being drawn back to work on this case at exactly the same time. It feels like more than a coincidence.”
Her words resonated deeply. At some deep level he’d always know that his crazy attraction to her was fated.
He just couldn’t fight what she meant to him anymore, but nor did he have the words to tell her. He tried to couch it in practical, not personal, terms. “If you disappear Clare, what then? How would we get you back?”
To his surprise, she said, “You would, sir.”
“Me!”
“Yes, you would rescue me, and the other humans.”
“Ha, I know you put me on a pedestal but… I’m no knight in shining armor.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she muttered, but he heard that wicked note of sass and glanced over to see the little smirk he loved so much playing around her mouth.
“My blood turned you invisible, allowed you access to this other dimension, and you said yourself you felt invincible. That’s powerful stuff, don’t you see?
” Her beautiful eyes glowed with passion.
“What if we were meant to bring down this Dark Dimension together, just like Waldo said?”
Her passion, the confidence of her youth thrilled him. But life had taught him caution.
“Clare, I could only use those powers after I’d partaken of your blood, and not for long. I doubt I could access that dimension in a crisis if I hadn’t… recently partaken of your blood.”
“Then drink my blood again… and much more of it, next time—”
“No. Fuck no, Clare. That is not happening,” he rebutted. Yet, shame on him, every cell in his body spiked with joy at the idea.
She leaned toward him. “Just listen. Please. We’re almost certain that guy I met was Matteus, and you’ve been to the dark realm yourself now.
We can’t stop now we’re so close. When Emmeline contacts me, let me attend the interview she’s organizing.
Then at night you feed off me and return to the Dark Dimension to get more intel.
Oliver, with your knowledge of the grimaalds and the Kominskys, you can find out things no one else can, things that will help bring down their evil regime. ”
“Clare, this is crazy.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning.
But already he was faltering. And probably for the wrong reasons.
To have a viable excuse to hold her, touch her, drink her beautiful blood…
oh fucking gods, yes. His whole body yearned for that.
“It’s fraught with danger. And totally unprofessional. ”
She quirked an eyebrow. “I think we’ve already crossed that line, if you don’t mind me saying so. Sir.”
Sweet goddess. His cock bucked, his fangs tingled, his whole freakin’ body lit up like a Christmas tree in agreement. Unable to form words, he bit into his pastry, trying to salve his hunger for her with physical food.
When he still didn’t speak, she prompted, “Have you ever dealt with a case like this before?”
He shook his head. “Never,” he admitted, then barked a laugh. “Ridding Motham of the grimaalds was like a walk in the park compared to this.”
“And Waldo is very wise, you agree?”
“Yes.”