White Lies (The Arcane Society #2)(35)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

Elizabeth brightened. “I agree with you, Jake. This place is the pits.”

“It’s clean,” Clare insisted.

“So is my place,” Jake said.

Both women looked at him, lips parted in surprise.

“I’ve got plenty of room,” he added. “And here’s the clincher. I’ve got a washer and dryer.”

Something that might have been relief lit Elizabeth’s eyes. “It’s not a bad idea, Clare.”

Clare pulled herself together, straightening abruptly in her chair. “I really don’t think—”

“It’s settled,” Jake said.

“This is ridiculous,” Clare said heatedly.

“What’s ridiculous is both of us camping out here at the Desert Dawn Motel when I’ve got a perfectly good house with a private pool and a decent kitchen,” he said.

Clare bristled. “Nobody said you had to stay here, too.”

“No, but that’s what I’m going to do if you stay locked down in stubborn mode over this,” he said mildly. “Let’s try for some common sense here, shall we? You’ve had a hell of a day. You’re exhausted. Elizabeth and I agree that you should not be alone tonight. I’m offering you a reasonable alternative to this third-rate motel.”

Elizabeth rounded on Clare. “I think you should accept his offer. It would certainly give me some peace of mind.”

“Well,” Clare said slowly. She subsided. “All right.”

Jake relaxed. He’d won. She was too worn out to argue anymore.

That was enough for now. He’d get the answers he was after later, when he had Clare where he wanted her, on his territory.

“Go pack,” he said. “I’ll take you home to my place. Then I’ve got an errand to run.”

Something about his tone must have alerted Clare. She frowned.

“What kind of errand?”

“I’m going to get in a short workout at the Stone Canyon spa before dinner.”

Chapter Twenty

The gym at the Stone Canyon spa was crowded with a trendy-looking after-work crowd. Every treadmill, stationary bicycle and rowing machine was occupied by someone wearing the latest in snappy workout attire.

Dressed in a pair of khaki shorts, faded T-shirt and running shoes, a towel draped around his neck, Jake wandered across the room to where an array of gleaming dumbbells was stacked.

He braced himself and selected the eight-pound weights.

When his hand closed around the one on the left, dark psychic energy splashed across his senses. Even though he had been prepared for it, the effect was a lot like getting hit with acid. It took every ounce of control he had not to let the dumbbell drop to the floor.

He tightened his grip on the weight and opened his senses fully.

Fury, desperation, a terrible, ripping need to avenge, to kill. Hot satisfaction. So close.

Silent, shrieking anguish. Failure. Despair. Rage.

He took a deep, steadying breath and carefully replaced the dumbbells. The disturbing waves of energy ceased affecting his senses the instant he released the weight.

The ice-cold anger that took its place would last awhile.

Chapter Twenty-one

Clare unzipped the small overnight suitcase and studied her extremely limited wardrobe. The rules of engagement between Jake and her had changed, she decided. The slinky dress she had worn the night before was out of the question this evening. She was a houseguest now, not a date.

The hard fact was that she had no clothing options. The pool-ruined black suit was out. She’d lost another pair of pants and a T-shirt when she waded into the pool to check Valerie’s pulse. That left her with the pants and T-shirt she had on now.

Forget changing for dinner.

She crossed the bedroom to the sliding glass door. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass she could see the kitchen and the other wing of the house across the pool courtyard.

Jake had the kitchen sliders wide open. He was working at the center island. He must have sensed her watching him because he raised his hand in a casual wave.

Probably real hard to sneak up on a hunter.

This was to have been her night to do the entertaining, she thought. She had known from the outset that it would be a bad idea to let Jake get the upper hand. But here she was in his house, getting ready to drink his wine and eat the food that he prepared.

Jake was once again in charge.

She decided she was in no condition to analyze all the possible ramifications of that situation. It had been a very long day. She needed a shower and then she needed food and sleep.

Tomorrow morning she would worry about how to deal with Jake Salter.

When she walked into the kitchen a short time later, feeling slightly more human and even a bit more energetic, Jake handed her a large glass of wine and a small bowl of roasted almonds.

“Drink,” he said. “Eat. You need the vitamins.”

“You’re right.” She sat down at the table and reached for a fistful of nuts. “So? What did you learn at the spa?”

“Found the dumbbell Valerie used to try to brain you.”

“Really?” Fascinated, she stared at him. “You could actually detect her psychic imprint on it?”

“I could sure as hell feel someone’s energy.” Jake stopped working long enough to munch some almonds. “Given what you told me and the turban in the car, it must have been Valerie’s.”

“What does that kind of energy feel like?”

He hesitated, looking thoughtful. “Raw. Elemental. Dark. It’s like touching the heart of a tornado.”

“Do you only pick up the kind of energy that is left in the wake of an act of violence? Or can you pick up other kinds of intense emotions as well?”

He looked at her. “The thing about being a hunter is that you only connect to the dark stuff.”

“I see.” She cleared her throat. “Sounds unpleasant.”

“Probably no worse than getting hit with one of those ultraviolet lies you told me about. By the way, Archer called while you were in the shower. Second time I’ve heard from him in the past couple of hours. Says he’s been trying to get ahold of you.”

“I know. I saw the calls on my phone log.”

“Going to respond?” Jake asked.

“Yes.” Reluctantly she took her phone out of her pocket and punched in Archer’s private number. “He won’t stop calling unless I do.”

Archer answered on the first ring. “Where the hell are you?”

“With Jake.”

“Doing what?”