Born in Blood (Page 18)

Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(18)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

Well … that didn’t seem so bad. He half expected a lunatic who ate babies for breakfast.

“Whisper what to him?”

“It’s never the same. Sometimes the future … or at least, a possible future,” the Mave said. “More often it’s the past or the present.”

“It’s nonsense,” Callie muttered.

Duncan studied her flushed face with a lift of his brows. “Do I sense a history?”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “He demanded to see me on the day that Fane became my guardian.”

Duncan’s hands clenched at the thought of this woman being bonded to another. Platonic or not, the relationship made Fane far too possessive.

“Was there significance in the date?” he growled.

“Who knows?” Callie gave a wave of her hand. “The man is a whack job.”

Duncan stilled, studying her growing agitation with a curious gaze. This was not the cool and composed Callie he knew.

“What did he tell you?”

“It doesn’t matter. As I said, he’s nuts.”

Accepting that now wasn’t the time to demand a full confession, Duncan glanced toward the Mave, who was regarding Callie with a worried expression.

“What do you think I can learn from Boggs?” he asked, barely leashing his instinctive urge to tug the fragile diviner into the protection of his arms.

The witch smoothed her features into an unreadable mask as she turned toward Duncan. “His gifts have allowed him to amass a vast amount of knowledge.”

“Yeah, but is it trustworthy?” He grimaced. “We have witnesses coming into the station on a daily basis claiming to have seen murders and kidnappings and even Elvis Presley in a spaceship.”

She held his gaze for a long, unnerving minute. “That’s for you to decide.”

Holy shit. Did she suspect that he had a few unusual talents of his own? He’d never considered the possibility that so many freaks would sense he wasn’t normal when he insisted on traveling to Valhalla.

Stupid of him.

He cleared his throat. Time for a diversion.

“So how do I find him?”

“You can’t,” the Mave informed him. “Not unless he wants to be found.”

So the one person who could potentially give them a clue to the murders was impossible to find. Duncan rolled his eyes. “Perfect.”

“I’ll try to contact him,” the Mave promised, returning to her seat behind the desk. “If he’s willing to speak with you then Fane will be able to locate him.”

“Christ, I thought the day started off bad.” Duncan shuddered, not happy with the thought of being yanked through space with the Sentinel. He didn’t trust the bastard not to deliberately scramble his molecules. “Now I have to spend more time with Lurch?”

Callie snorted. “I doubt Fane will be any happier.”

The Mave glanced toward the young diviner. “I fear he’ll be even less pleased when he discovers you are to accompany them.”

“Ah.” Duncan smiled even as Callie turned a sickly shade of gray. “The day is looking up.”

“Crap,” Callie muttered.

Chapter Seven

Callie hadn’t expected to eat.

The choice of taking Duncan to the dining hall and settling at a table next to the windows overlooking the inner courtyard had been more a case of self-preservation than a desire for food.

She wasn’t sure what would happen if they were alone together in a room, but she did know it would include heated kisses and missing clothes …

A tempting way to spend the night, but not when they were destined to be interrupted.

When she finally had this man in her bed she intended to devote several hours to exploring his naked body.

But once the plates of salad, lasagna, and garlic bread arrived, she found herself polishing her plate and even indulging in a serving of tiramisu.

The chefs of Valhalla could work at any five-star hotel. Thank god her metabolism burned at an accelerated rate.

At last pushing back her empty plates, she looked up to discover Duncan glancing around the crowded room with a wary expression.

“Are they glaring at me because I’m a norm or because I’m with you?” he demanded sourly.

She shrugged. When this was all over with she was going to have her friends lining up for an explanation of why she’d looked so cozy with Duncan O’Conner, but for now she didn’t care what they thought.

“Probably because you’re a cop.”

He sent her a disgruntled frown. “What’s wrong with cops?”

“Many high-bloods have had unpleasant encounters with authority figures.”

He reached for his chilled bottle of beer. “Haven’t we all?”

She narrowed her gaze at his casual disregard for what her people had suffered over the years. “It’s not the same. Most police assume we’re evil by nature.”

“You shouldn’t take it personal,” he denied. “Cops are always suspicious.”

“Yeah right.”

Perhaps recalling his coroner’s reaction to her presence only hours ago, he took a deep swig of the beer.

“Change takes time.”

“So they say.”

He leaned back in his seat, setting aside the beer bottle. In the overhead lights his pale hair had the smooth sheen of polished gold and his lean features were more starkly beautiful than ever.

It made her regret her decision to choose the public dining room instead of her apartment.

At least until the next words fell from his lips. “Tell me what happened with Boggs.”

It was the question she’d been expecting since they’d left the Mave’s office, but it still managed to catch her off guard.

“That’s none of your business.”

He focused on her with that stubborn concentration that made him such a good cop.

And an annoying dinner companion.

“And what if I want it to be my business?”

She shifted to make sure her back was to the rest of the room. If any of her friends caught sight of her scowl they’d be charging over in a heartbeat to rescue her.

“Are you willing to let me pry into your privacy?”

He lifted one shoulder. “What do you want to know?”

“Did you love your wife?”

He sucked in a deep breath, his hand clenched on top of the table. “Straight for the jugular, eh, Callie?”

“Not so eager to play now?” she taunted.

There was a short, explosive pause before he folded his arms over his chest. “I knew Susan from the first day of kindergarten,” he said in clipped tones, his expression screwed down tight. “She was a good Catholic girl from the neighborhood who seemed exactly the sort of woman I should marry. My parents were delighted.”