Pity? Colin stared at her words before meeting her eyes. Did this beautiful, resilient woman truly believe he was only here out of pity?
He shook his head. “I asked Bartley about you because I admired your spirit. You continue to play piano even when you can no longer enjoy the music.”
She sized him up for a moment. I may not “hear” it the same way I used to, but I can feel the vibrations of the chords, and that “sound” brings me joy.
He nodded and cleared his throat as the waitress came over. He ordered food he wouldn’t eat and a Guinness he wouldn’t be able to finish. After the she hurried off, he rested his forearms on the table, leaning closer to her. “You intrigue me.”
One side of her full lips turned up. How so?
“It would be justified for you to be bitter and angry. Yet you choose to keep moving forward in spite of the fate you were handed.”
I was angry. Very angry. She took a sip of her drink and crossed out the last sentence on her pad. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about your family. Do they live nearby?
He had no idea the lies would need to start so quickly. Another reason it didn’t make sense to forge a relationship with a mortal. But there was no other way to discover her secret, and if his suspicion about the roses was right, Benedict could be one of her customers.
Lying was a necessary evil. If he confessed that he was the Mayan God of the South and even more immortal than her paper flowers, she’d run from the restaurant.
“My three brothers are all I have left in the world.”
Do you see them often?
“No.” He wanted to explain he could reach out to them mentally anytime, but he held the words back. “One of my brothers is in Egypt, one in Paris, and the other is…” In utero. He cleared his throat again. “In San Diego.”
That’s too bad. She glanced his way before writing again. You’re not from Ireland then?
“Not originally.”
Her face brightened as she waved at someone he couldn’t see. Frowning, Colin turned to find Bartley approaching the table. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you.” He looked at Colin as he spoke the words.
“Is something wrong at the farm?”
“The farm is fine.” His gaze tracked over to Juliana. “It’s the Bridled Pony I’m worried about.”
Colin tried to keep his expression blank, but only two words came to mind.
The aughisky.
Juliana shot out of her chair, pen in hand. Is Muriel all right? What happened?
Bartley shrugged. “Maybe nothin’?” Worry was plain in his eyes, though. “I got there about five tonight an’ the only person in was old Darby sittin’ at the bar.”
Darby was a regular at her cousin’s pub. His wife had passed away last year after a long battle with cancer. He came to Muriel’s place for the company as much as the alcohol.
She flipped to a clean page on her notepad. Muriel wouldn’t leave the Pony unattended.
Bartley nodded as Colin got to his feet, blocking her view of Bartley’s lips. She groaned and muscled her way between the two tall men. Did she say anything to Darby?
Colin’s arm moved around her, his hand at the small of her back. “I will walk you home. Bartley and I will look for her.”
She stepped away from him, barely noticing the loss of physical contact. Barely. She’s my cousin. I won’t sit at home and wait. Not for either of you.
Colin’s gaze locked on hers, and for just a moment, it was like a fog clouded her mind and all she wanted to do was strike out her refusal and go home like he’d suggested. She glanced down at her notepad, and her head cleared. What was that? Frowning, she rubbed her forehead, welcoming her Irish temper to come roaring forward.
She glared at each of them and stormed out. They probably thought she’d be a good little sheep and stay out of the way. Well, she’d sooner kick their arses than wait at home hopin’ and prayin’ Muriel was safe. Once she got across the street, she broke into a jog.
The Bridled Pony was a few blocks past her house in the other direction, but she arrived at the big wooden door without being too winded. Two faces turned her way when she entered. Darby was still at the bar, and on the other side stood Claire. Juliana had met the woman a couple of times. Occasionally she’d come in with Bartley after they got off work at Sea Haven.
He must’ve asked her to watch the pub while he rushed off to play hero and find her cousin. Juliana strode over to the bar, nodded to Claire, and took the stool beside Darby.
Was Muriel here when you came by?
Darby sat his mug down. “She was tendin’ bar like usual, but this handsome bugger came in, talkin’ sweet. She seemed to like ’im. I made a run to the toilet, an’ when I got back to my barstool, she and the gent were gone. I stayed here to guard the till.”
A burst of cool air caressed Juliana’s neck, and she glanced toward the door. Colin was stepping inside, wasting no time coming to her side while Bartley chatted with Claire. Colin stood close to her, close enough that she caught his scent, but he made no attempt to touch her again. Smart man.
Begrudgingly, she looked up at him.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Running off half-cocked isn’t going to help Muriel.”
Neither is sitting in my house like the poor little deaf girl.
She wrote with so much force, her words were carved into the paper. Perhaps a trace of bitterness still dwelled inside her after all. And he seemed to have a knack for drawing it out.
“I did not ask you to wait at home because you can’t hear.”
Her cheeks flushed with color. Her anger should’ve warned him to keep his distance, but the fire in her eyes only lured him closer.
Oh, so I should stay in my house because I’m a female, then? Hearing or no? Would I slow down your search? She rolled her eyes and added, Just go back to your farm. If I can’t find Muriel myself, I’ll call the police. I won’t be needing your help.
This was his chance to walk away, to put this puzzling woman behind him, and focus on finding Benedict. He glanced at the door, but he had no intention of walking out. He should. But when had what he should do ever mattered to him?
Colin smirked and met her dark eyes. “Forgive me. I did not mean to light a fire under your temper, but I think I can help find your cousin if you allow me the chance.”
He waited her out, aching to peer into her mind. She released an annoyed sigh. Darby said there was a man here, flirting with Muriel, and while he was in the toilet, they left. She paused, meeting his gaze. Muriel would never leave the Pony while she had customers. Something is wrong.
Dammit. He didn’t want his instinct to have been right. He turned to the older man at the bar. “Can you tell me what the gent looked like?”
“Sure.” He nodded, his gaze distant. “He was tall, ’bout your height. Black hair, dark eyes. Handsome fella. Maybe walked outta one of those fancy magazines. Had clean hands like he never worked an honest day in his life.”
Colin glanced at Bartley, nodding slightly. He focused on Darby again. “Did this man have a drink while he was here?”
“He had a Guinness at that table over there.” He tossed his head to the right.
A single glass remained on the table. Colin approached, careful not to touch it. If the police were going to be involved, he didn’t want his fingerprints on the glass. He leaned down, closing his eyes as he inhaled slowly. The rich scent of the stout assaulted his preternatural senses. Patiently, he took one more breath.
And caught the salty smell of the ocean and fainter still, blood.
He straightened, his pulse racing. If he had dealt with the water horse already, none of this would’ve happened. This was his responsibility. He rotated his left shoulder. Doubt lingered at the edge of his consciousness, taunting him.
Colin spun around, his eyes meeting Juliana’s. “Call the police. They can dust the glass for fingerprints and check the liquid for drugs.”
She frowned. You think he drugged her and carried her out?
The sick bastard wouldn’t need drugs. The hypnotic tone of his voice would be enough to lure Muriel out of her pub without locking up. But he couldn’t tell Juliana that.
Colin shrugged. “It is worth checking.” He stepped close to Bartley, keeping his face turned away from Juliana. “Stay with her and keep her safe. I need to hunt.”
Bartley leaned in closer. “Is it…?”
Colin nodded and focused on Darby again. “I’m afraid we need to close the pub early tonight.”
Darby grabbed his hat from the stool next to him and stood up. “Understood. If there’s anythin’ I can do to help…”
“We’ll let you know. The police might want the guy’s description again.”
Juliana approached, words already written on her notepad. Thanks for watching the till, Darby. When Muriel gets back, she owes you a drink.
He chuckled and swiped the air with his hand. “No bother.” He gave Juliana a gentle hug. “They’ll find your cousin.”
Colin waited for her eyes to meet his before he spoke again. “I am going to check the other pubs to find out if anyone has seen her. Bartley will stay with you and wait for the police.” He glanced at Claire. “Can I walk you to your car?”
Claire gave him a knowing look. Her go-get-’em look. “Yes, thank ye.”
He tipped his head. As she came around the bar, he turned his attention back to Juliana. Her determined stance reassured him. She was a fighter, heart and soul. He didn’t need to peer into her mind to see it. “I’ll meet up with you before sunrise.”
He stepped closer to her, the floral scent of her skin enticing him. She tipped her chin up, staring into his eyes, as his finger tenderly traced her jawline. He had to touch her soft, warm skin. This woman had been through enough already. Losing her cousin would surely break her. He needed to protect his territory, but now it was personal. He had to protect Juliana. And right now, that meant finding Muriel. He could not fail.
Leaning closer, he whispered, “Please be safe.”
Her lips parted, tempting him to bridge the distance between them. Before he could act, she rose on her toes and her lips tenderly brushed his, setting fire to his ancient soul. She lowered, breaking the kiss, her lashes fluttering up as she stared at him.
Her rose-colored lips mouthed the words Thank you. Finally she slid her notepad off the bar. See that you come back soon.
The corner of his mouth tugged into a lopsided smile, forgetting any previous hesitation about confronting Benedict. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “Be careful.”
Juliana watched the door close behind Colin, her emotions jumbling together. Her lips still tingled from kissing him. The bold move was uncharacteristic for her, but the impulse had been undeniable. Worry for her cousin, the flare of her temper, and his tender touch all blended into a passionate whirlwind. The allure of touching him had been too much for her.
And then she let him walk out without warning him about the banshee in her dream. She’d seen his face and heard the omen of death, and now this? Would he have even believed her? Half the time she wasn’t sure she believed herself.
Maybe she’d misinterpreted the vision. She reached for her pendant, and her fingers traced its three points. Benedict’s face had also appeared in the dream, she remembered. Maybe he was the one in danger, and this was merely a coincidence. A drop of relief washed over her at the thought, followed by a wave of guilt. She didn’t know Benedict as well as Colin, but she didn’t wish him ill.
Bartley stepped in her line of vision, interrupting her thoughts. “The police are on their way.”