Chapter 20
Locke
Locke glared out the windshield as he navigated the morning traffic.
He should have been in a good mood, considering he’d woken up with a warm and naked Isa, but his morning had quickly turned to shit.
First was the phone call informing him that Paisley had finally sobered up enough to be useful.
He set a time to talk to the girl, and when he hung up, Isa insisted on coming with him.
Since there were still dark circles under her eyes and a worrisome paleness that had nothing to do with their lack of sleep and everything to do with Angel, he insisted she stay at his place and take it easy.
She’d had other ideas, and so began their first argument—which, since she was sitting in the passenger seat of the Dodge, applying lipstick, he’d lost.
And now he was thinking about starting their second argument. They had a twenty-minute drive ahead of them, and he had questions—ones that had circled his brain the night before while Isa slept.
Did Angel hurt her?
What is the deal with Cora?
What kind of bargain has she struck, and why is Des so worried about it?
Does she have a death wish?
Okay, maybe he wouldn’t ask that last one, but the others?
Yeah, those needed to be asked. And this time, he wouldn’t be distracted.
Not like last night, when she’d stood before him, all long legs and wary eyes, battered but fiercely unbroken—an enticing mix—for the first time offering him everything he craved.
Instead of talking through shit, he took what she offered, scared it was a fever dream.
He spent the next few hours proving to himself she was real—soft flesh, hot blood, addicting taste.
She was too much to resist, so he’d caved.
And loved every minute of it. Hell, he’d be a happy man if he could keep her in his bed for however long she let him.
But reality was a bitch. Angel was still out there, still a threat, and he couldn’t shrug off Des’s fear from yesterday or his own worry about the shadows she still carried. He wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. He didn’t want to argue, but he needed to know what they were working with.
“What happened yesterday?” He did his best to keep his tone neutral.
Isa paused in mid-motion and looked away from the visor mirror. “I was careful, Locke.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“You didn’t have to.” She turned back to the mirror, wiped the side of her mouth, then flipped the visor up and recapped her lipstick. “Our stock delivery was arriving early, so I had Des take Kelly home while I checked it in. Afterward, I forgot to reset the security ward.”
“Is that normal?” Sliding into interrogation mode was second nature to Locke.
“Is what normal?”
“Your delivery coming in early?”
She shrugged. “Not often, but the regular driver was out, so there was a new guy.”
His instincts quivered. “Did you get a name?”
“Um…” She drummed her fingers on the door’s armrest. “Mick? No, Mitch.” Her fingers stilled. “You think he was involved.”
“It would make sense.” He slowed as a sedan cut across three lanes to make the upcoming left. “Changing the delivery time means you’ll be at the bar at a set time.”
“Which makes it easier to snatch and go,” she finished in a tone of self-disgust. “I didn’t even think about it.”
He didn’t like her self-directed criticism. “We’re thinking it through now. So, you got your delivery.”
“I was putting it away when I heard something out front. I thought it was you.”
He ignored the flash of guilt. “Zev and I were checking Paisley into the clinic. I should have texted you earlier.”
She set her hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze. “Hey. If I can’t beat myself up, neither can you.”
He dropped his hand to hers and held it. Fine. He’d just keep the self-criticism quiet, then. “So you thought it was me.”
“And I walked into an ambush.” A fine tremor ran through the hand he held, but her voice remained steady. “There were two of them, and they nailed me with a knockout spell.”
“They made you bleed.” It came out between clenched teeth.
“They did?”
He managed a nod.
“Well, I managed to hit them with a bottle of vodka.”
“Yeah. Found that shattered on the floor. You got one, not the other.”
“How did you—” She stopped short. “I totally forgot about the security cameras.”
“Wasn’t the cameras. Those were on the fritz. One of your abductors was an electro mage. Des had a chat with Al.”
“Al?”
“Your resident alcoholic ghost with voyeur vibes?”
She giggled. “Alphonse. I’m surprised he was paying attention.”
“Seems he likes to watch you, something Des wasn’t happy about.”
“Des never has much patience with the dead.” She resumed her story. “The two idiots dumped me at Angel’s.”
Locke kept his territorial anger locked down. “What did he want?”
“To gloat.” She pulled his hand to rest on the console between them and threaded their fingers together. “And to find out why we were nosing around. Don’t worry. I stuck to our story.”
“That isn’t what worries me.”
She lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of his before lowering it back down. “I’m okay, Locke.”
He risked looking away from the road for a moment to find her studying him. “You’re more than okay, Isa, but that doesn’t mean I like his attention on you any less.” He turned back but not before he caught her mysterious, feminine smirk.
“He kept asking who sent me to look into him.”
“So no doubt he’s involved.” He let her go to hit the blinker.
“None.” She shifted in her seat so she could face him more fully. “Since I didn’t get a chance to tell you yesterday, thank you.”
Not sure where she was coming from, he frowned. “For what?”
“Finding me so fast.”
“Thank Des,” he grudgingly said. “With the cameras down, I was hitting a shit ton of dead ends. I managed to follow the SUV in a general direction before I lost track. I had Roxy scrubbing traffic cams, but it was one of Des’s contacts that gave us the house.
Since it was in the same direction as where I lost your trail, we decided to risk it. ”
“I’m glad you did.”
So was he. He cleared his throat as he took a turn. “And the girl, Cora?”
Her lingering amusement faded away. “Another one of his victims.”
“What happened?”
She turned to look out the passenger window. “She and Angel got into an argument. It turned violent, and at some point, he shoved her. She fell back into the mantel and hit her head. Game over.”
He remembered the frenzied spirit and the spiraling madness that had tried to infect him while Isa looked at him with cold eyes. “It must have been some argument.” He felt Isa turn to watch him. “She had a hell of a hold on you.”
“I made her a promise,” she said with resigned determination.
He remembered what Des had said when he was trying to reach Isa. “And it has to be kept.”
Isa’s silence spoke volumes.
He took a breath and stepped into the unknown. “What happens if it can’t be kept?”
The silence grew heavier.
“Isa?” he pushed.
“I have to finish this, Locke.”
His gut knotted as she continued to avoid his question, but something warned him to tread lightly. “I’m not saying you won’t, but what happens if Cora doesn’t get what she thinks she paid for?”
There was a long pause. “One way or another, a Reaper always pays their debt.”
There was an ominous finality to her answer, and he knew that was the only one she’d give him. Maybe it should have pissed him off, but it just left him worried.
Maribel Ortiz, the Cordovas’ lawyer, accompanied a wan-looking Paisley into the small conference room at the medical clinic. Catching sight of Locke and Isa sitting at the table, the girl froze and shot Mari a panicked look.
“You said I only had to talk to him. Who’s she?”
“A friend of Isaiah’s older brother, Micah.” Dressed in her typical stiletto heels, tailored blouse, and skirt, Mari nudged the younger woman toward a chair. “She’s just here to listen.” The lawyer shot Isa a warning glare as she poured a glass of water from a nearby pitcher.
Paisley took a seat. Mari set the glass in front of her.
“You remember Locke Turon?” she asked as she went around Paisley to take the seat on the other side.
Paisley cupped her shaky hands around the glass and lifted it to take a drink. A tremor hit her, and a couple of drops hit the table as she set the glass back down. She raised bloodshot eyes to Locke. “You’re the one that brought me here. With the car.”
“I am.”
Her gaze darted to Mari then back to Locke as she moved the glass in small circles, smearing the drips over the dark tabletop. “She told me you’re looking for Isaiah. For his brother, right?”
He nodded and wasn’t surprised when she mimicked the gesture with a jerky nod of her own. She wiped a hand under her nose then dropped her hands to her lap.
“Isaiah won’t go home. He’s pissed. Said he was tired of getting his ass reamed about shit that wasn’t important.” Paisley shot a look at Isa. “Maybe you can tell his brother to back off.”
In the seat next to Locke, Isa shifted, the air around her filled with intent. Under the table, he put a warning hand on her knee. She shot him a glare. He raised an eyebrow. Her mouth thinned in a rebellious pout, but she sat back and folded her arms.
He turned back to Paisley and pinned her in place with a cool stare. “His brother’s in a coma.”
Paisley’s skin turned a sickly shade of gray, and her eyes widened. “It wasn’t Isaiah. He didn’t do anything to him.”
“Didn’t say he did,” Locke said, keeping his voice level. “But we’d like to know where he is so we can fill him in on Micah’s condition. He’s the only family left.”
Paisley clutched the glass until her bones pressed against white against her skin, her throat working as she swallowed. “What happened to him? The brother, I mean?”
“He was drugged,” Mari said, her tone clinical.
Paisley’s mouth rounded in shock, the precarious knot of brown hair bundled at the back of her head threatening to come loose as she turned to look at the lawyer. “Whoa, no cap?”
“Truth,” Mari confirmed. “Someone slipped him a drug at the Alchemist.”