Chapter 17
TWO WEEKS LATER
“Okay, that’s enough.” Eamon grabbed Bel’s chair and dragged her away from the desk nestled comfortably in the corner of her library. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”
“It’s early,” she argued. “I have time to work before dinner.”
“That’s not the point, Detective.” He spun the chair to face him. “The colder this case grows, the more obsessive you get, and you’re driving yourself mad. I want you to solve this as much as the next person, but not like this. Not when you’re pushing yourself to an early grave.”
“But we have nothing,” she protested. “I keep going over the evidence, but we’re no closer to solving these cases than we were when the Tritons dialed 911.
It’s been two weeks since Ondine Mar went missing.
She’s probably dead, and now I have yet another set of parents grieving their daughter without answers. ”
“You don’t know if she’s dead,” Eamonn said.
“She is. Her case is too similar to Ariella’s. She’s dead, and I’m missing something.”
“It’s a tragedy, but I cannot afford your death.” He grabbed under her armpits and hoisted her to a stand before enveloping her in his arms, and Bel finally registered that he was shirtless… and incredibly sweaty.
“Eamon, gross.” She shoved his slick chest, and for a second, he eased his grip before trapping her back against his body.
“Eamon, stop. You’re disgusting.” She shoved harder because, no matter how sexy he was, he was still uncomfortably wet.
“I’m serious. Let go.” She put her weight behind her actions, but he only smirked at her.
“Is that all you’ve got, Detective?”
“Stop, I’m not in the mood.” She shoved him again, but when he didn’t budge, she threw her leg out in an attempt to trip him… that didn’t work.
“Good try. Not fast enough.”
“Like I could ever be faster than you,” she muttered through gritted teeth
“True, but you could try—uff.” He grunted as her knee connected with his muscular thigh. “Better.” Arousal teased his voice at her violence. “Try faster.”
Bel swept her legs again, this time determined to take him down, but his graceful footwork tripped her instead.
“So slow, Detective.” He released her and stepped back, lowering his body into a fighting stance as he beckoned her with his fingers. “I know you’re better than that.”
“Stop laughing at me,” she growled. He was infuriating, and she wished she possessed the skill to smack him upside the head… his very handsome head hovering disrespectfully over his illegally chiseled abs.
“Can’t help it. You’re cute when you’re—”
“I swear to god, if you finish that sentence.” Bel launched herself at him, forcing all her focus into her footwork, but Eamon simply sidestepped her. She skidded wildly across the floor and almost crashed head over heels onto the couch, but he caught her before she made contact.
“Will you punish me if I finish that sentence?” He steadied her on her feet as his tone turned seductive.
“You wouldn’t like it.” Bel’s cheeks burned red hot, and she wanted nothing more than to wipe the flirt off his face.
“Oh, but I think I would… bend your knees, Detective.” He pointed at her legs as she lunged for him. “Better center of gravity.”
Bel obeyed, annoyed that she was even listening to him, and she slammed into his chest like a battering ram.
“God, that was hot,” Eamon moaned, his mass barely budging despite the impact of her full weight, and his enjoyment of her pathetic sparring only aggravated her more, driving her to pull back her fist… which he caught.
“Your body language gives your intentions away,” he corrected as he lowered her arm. “Even if I were human, I would’ve seen that punch coming.”
So Bel punched at his head with her free hand.
And he caught it once again, but not as fast, and triumph welled in her chest.
“Good job,” he praised. “That was fast, and fast is good. Men may out-muscle you, but if you’re faster, you’ll have the advantage.
And don’t forget active flexibility. Many people strength train but forget range of motion.
If your body bends easily, you’ll outmaneuver them.
” To illustrate his point, he grabbed the back of her neck and swung at her face with his free arm.
For a fraction of a second, she panicked at the speed, knowing she’d never escape the blow in time, but then Eamon dipped her as if they were dancing the tango, and his fist sailed over her nose.
It was a fight and a dance and foreplay all in one swift movement, and when he yanked her against his chest, she was breathing as heavily as he was.
“See,” his voice struggled to remain even. “Flexible.”
“Center of gravity, speed, and flexibility.” Bel slid her fingers up his chest, no longer caring that he was sweaty.
“For starters… we should do this more often.” He gripped her hips as if his fists were trying to fuse with her body until they were one being. “You’ve kept up with your training after Abel took you, but if you spar with me, you’ll become an expert in hand-to-hand.”
“I thought I was already an expert in hand-to-hand.” She dragged her palms down his abs to his shorts.
“All right, for that you have to go again.” Eamon shoved her away and lowered his weight. “If you don’t take me down, you die. How do you attack?”
“With a bullet from where I’m standing.”
“Nice try, smartass. You’re unarmed. Go.”
Bel centered her mass and lunged for him, dropping her chest at the last minute and surprising him by going for his groin.
She slammed into him, wrapping her arms around his hips as she threw all her weight into the blow, only for the man to take a single step back before becoming an unmovable wall.
“Oh, come on!” she shouted. “Go down!”
Cerberus barked at the commotion and barreled across the room from the window where he’d been watching the garden squirrels.
He launched his seventy pounds at their fight, slamming into them with the excitement of a dog who’d grown accustomed to playing rough, and to Bel’s utter annoyance, Eamon yelped and finally stumbled backward, taking both of them with him as he toppled over the back of the couch.
“I’ve been hit!” he moaned as Cerberus attacked his face with kisses. “Medic!”
“No! Please don’t leave me!” Bel shoved her palms against his heart and faked compressions, her dog playing along with the drama. “Stay with me, dammit! You will live. You need to live.”
“Tell Cerberus I love him,” Eamon gasped for breath below her.
“And tell Sheriff Griffin I like him, I guess. Oh… and tell Reese and your sisters that they’re the family I never had…
alas! I have been murdered.” He collapsed with old Hollywood flair, his arms falling off the side of the couch before he grunted in surprise.
“Hey! What was that for?” He gawked at where Bel had punched him full force in the stomach.
“’Cause you aren’t allowed to die on me, and you’re especially not allowed to die like that.” She gestured at him with exaggerated disgust. “If I’m not your last ‘I love you’, I will find a witch who can bring you back from the dead so I can murder you myself.”
“Fine.” Eamon gently shifted Cerberus to the floor before yanking her to his chest. “I love you, Isobel Emerson. You are my first ‘I love you’. You will be my last ‘I love you’. You are my only ‘I love you’.”
“God, you’re so sappy.” Bel rolled her eyes, both of them knowing just how much she loved hearing those words, especially with the uncertainty hanging between them over the still unresolved children issue.
“Then how’s this?” Eamon flipped her effortlessly, pinning her to the couch, and before she knew what he was doing, he’d relieved her of her clothes.
“I love you.” His words were sweet, but his tone was filthy, and his movements proved her wrong.
There was nothing sappy about him as he owned her, body and soul, and she was more out of breath when they collapsed in a tangled heap than she’d been after the sparring session.
“So, do you feel better?” Eamon’s voice turned gentle as he brushed her hair off her damp forehead.
“I do.” She pressed her ear to his chest, savoring the god-like thunder of his heart.
“You need to take more breaks. You can’t work yourself to the bone.”
“I know. I know. You’re right. I just get so caught up. Hazard of the job.”
“What did you ever do before me?”
“Eat out of the vending machine.”
“Please don’t tell me that.” Eamon sat up, taking her with him. “Speaking of food, do you want some ice cream?”
“That sounds perfect in this heat.”
“Come on, let’s clean up and go.”
“Don’t you have some here?” she asked.
“I do, but if we stay home, you’ll try to work. So, we’re taking Cerberus into town.”
Thirty minutes later, the trio stood in the expansive ice cream line, the entire town trying to escape the evening summer heat with them.
“It’s just that this guy is smart,” Bel said, unable to help herself.
“Alcina Magus shapeshifted into my neighbor. Abel left Cerberus to find you after he took me. Jax Frost liked to watch his girls freeze, which gave us clues as to who he was. Blaubart kidnapped me after I went to his office. They all did things that drew attention to themselves, but this guy? He’s learning.
He’s left nothing of himself behind. Every theory points us in different directions, but they lead nowhere.
I’m missing something, but I don’t know where to look. ”
“You are. The problem is you don’t have enough context.
” Eamon graciously engaged in the conversation instead of forcing her to remain on her break.
“I hate to say this, but don’t cold cases account for around fifty percent of homicides every year?
Aren’t there hundreds of thousands of murders that are never solved? ”
“This can’t be one of them.”
“But it might be.”
“It won’t. It can’t.”
“Okay, okay.” Eamon draped an arm around her shoulder. “I just worry, that’s all. I don’t want this to become a cold case that drives you off the edge.”