I made it back to the store well before Kenny or anybody else arrived for work. Once inside, I took a moment to survey the damage. I told myself to see it and accept it and then start fixing it.
My chest ached and my stomach burned, but after a few minutes, I pulled myself together and hardened my resolve. I couldn’t change what had happened, so I’d better deal with it and move on. Life sucked sometimes and I just took the good and overcame the bad in whatever way I could. Aunty Mommy had taught me that much. Well, she and the girls. They gave me the good and Aunty Mommy gave me the bad and somewhere in there I discovered I’d rather fight than not, even if I was just pissing into the wind.
I rigged up a makeshift counter. The cordless phone had been knocked on the floor along with the base, but it hadn’t broken. I started by calling Kenny and telling him what happened. After he recovered from his shock, I asked him to start calling the employees to tell them not to come in today and that we’d have a meeting in the morning.
“Can you set something up at Rosie’s? They’ve got the big back room, and I’ll buy breakfast. Make sure everybody knows their jobs are safe too,” I said. “And that they aren’t getting temporarily laid off.” Nobody was going to miss bill payments because of what had happened. “When you get done, come in and we’ll start going through the inventory to see if anything can be salvaged.”
Next I called my insurance agent. I probably should have called him first. He’d received last night’s phone message and promised to get there within the hour. I called Jen, Lorraine, and Stacey to let them know I was okay. I didn’t go into the business about Mason and my family. I’d tell them when we had more time and plenty of cheesecake. I promised to call them all later.
Next on the list was finding someone who could replace the shattered windows. I explained what had happened and that this was both a rush job and a large job, and the receptionist transferred me to the shop’s owner after a flood of sympathy. He declared he’d be there just after lunch, and I thanked him.
I had a billion other calls to make, but I couldn’t make myself make any of those yet. I needed to steady myself before contacting my clients. They weren’t going to be happy, though I’d pay them for all the consigned pieces.
I thought about putting up some magical protections, but since I didn’t have anything left of value to steal, it seemed like a waste of energy. I was already dead tired, even though my body was wired with unsettled energy. I needed to be doing something physical.
I found some empty boxes up the street at the liquor store and started going through the shop. I picked up everything I could salvage.
I’d filled four boxes when John, my insurance agent, arrived. Ajax noticed him first, standing up to growl softly in warning.
John was dressed in slacks and a striped button-up shirt. He stepped inside the door and stopped to take in the destruction.
“Tell me I’m covered,” I said as I greeted him.
“You are, except for the deductible. I’m so sorry. Who did this?”
“No idea. Cops are investigating.”
He shook his head, disgusted. “What’s wrong with people? I’ll get on the phone and get the adjuster out as soon as possible. He’ll need the police report, so I’ll need their contact information. Do you have your inventory list?”
“Luckily it’s in the cloud,” I said. “They wrecked all the computers. I’ll get it printed as soon as I can. They didn’t get in the vault.”
“Good. I’m just going to snap some pictures to send along when I call the adjuster.”
“My loft and all the vehicles have to be evaluated too.”
I still hadn’t looked at my Thunderbird. I didn’t want to. I’d bought that car with my first savings. It didn’t have air conditioning and it sucked gas like a hooker, but it was fast and I loved driving in a vintage vehicle. The fact that the interior was red with white stitching was the cherry on top. I couldn’t imagine what the vandals had done to it. I didn’t want to imagine, and I sure as hell didn’t want to know. But tantrums weren’t going to help and neither was sticking my head in the sand.
Maybe it could be repaired. Maybe pigs could fly.
John toured the shop, snapping pictures and taking notes. When he disappeared into the warehouse, I decided I should go buy a laptop and a printer. I told John where I was going, and then drove out to the office store, picking up coffee on the way and a couple of hamburgers for Ajax. I found what I needed with the help of a tech and loaded it all into the back seat of Damon’s truck. I also got a folding table to set it up on, a chair, and some other necessities.
All the way back, I told myself this break-in was a good excuse to remodel and redecorate. Not to mention declutter. I’d been wanting to put in some faux walls to create different room ambiences. Now I could. So I was lucky this had happened.
Even I couldn’t make myself believe that.
I spent the trip back home planning some changes. I pulled in to find Damon pacing in front. He yanked open my door.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Shopping,” I said.
In the same moment, Ajax snarled and lunged into my lap, snapping at him. Damon stepped back.
“Didn’t I tell you it’s not safe for you to go around by yourself? Do you have any idea what would have happened to you if you’d been here last night? You’d have been chopped up like that furniture ... or worse. It was a fucking magic attack, Rebecca. And the gargoyles today? It was no coincidence you were there when they fell.”
“But I wasn’t hurt, and throwing stone statues is a really stupid way to murder someone, don’t you think?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t feel the spell that brought them down on top of us.”
“I felt it.”
“Then you know I’m right.”
“What I know is that I have work to do and I’m not going to cower while some asshole tries to destroy my life.”
“Rebecca—”
“Beck,” I corrected, dropping the truck’s keys into his hand. I stroked Ajax to convince him I was all right and then slid off the driver’s seat.
Damon didn’t budge. I glared at him.
“Are you going to move?”
“I’m thinking about strangling you.”
I lifted my brows. “Do the gargoyle bomber’s dirty work for him?”
“I’m seriously tempted.”
“Ajax would have something to say about that.”
My furry shadow stood on the seat behind me, his breath warm against my neck. He made a low, threatening sound that rumbled up from his chest.
“How the hell am I supposed to protect you if you won’t listen to reason?” Damon demanded.
“Who made you my bodyguard? And if you say Mason, you can both fuck off. I’ve had enough of someone trying to run my life. I’ll live and die on my own terms, thank you very much.”
He shut his eyes and drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not backing off.”
“So the stalking thing is back on? Well then, at least you can be useful. Help me unload this stuff.”
I ducked under his arm and opened the rear door. I grabbed the laptop and left him to sherpa in the rest. John’s car was still out front, but I didn’t see any sign of him. I cleared a space in a recessed nook to set up. Damon helped move out the broken bits of furniture, and I found a broom that was still in one piece to sweep it out. We got the table unfolded, and I set up the printer and laptop while Damon put together the chair.
I downloaded my business software and installed it and then pulled my documents off the cloud. By the time I’d started printing my inventory list, John found us. I introduced him to Damon and handed him the thick stack of papers.
“This is what we had in on consignment and our own stock with assessed values.”
“Very good. Mary Carphon, the adjuster, will be out this afternoon around three. Will that be all right?”
I hugged him. “You’re my hero.”
“Don’t get too excited. Once she gets done, she’ll have to make her report. I’ll do my best to hustle it through. There’s no doubt this was vandalism, so I don’t see any obstacles. You should see checks from each of your policies by the beginning of next month at the absolute latest.”
Four weeks. I had money in savings, and I was willing to use it in the interim. It was for a rainy day, and there was a damned hurricane running through my life.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll need an inventory of your personal belongings for the homeowner’s policy. I’ve got all your vehicle information at the office— Say, how the hell did they manage to do that to your Thunderbird?”
I frowned. “Do what?”
He blinked in surprise. “You haven’t seen it?”
My cheeks colored. “I haven’t had the heart. I love that car.”
He shook his head and squeezed my shoulder. “I know. I’m really sorry, but there’s no way to salvage her.”
I widened my eyes so I wouldn’t start blubbering all over him and remembered that I was going to buy a new, shiny car with lots of bells and whistles and air conditioning. Or maybe I’d get a new Corvette or Camaro.
Once John left, I decided I’d better suck it up and check out the vehicle damage and then go upstairs and see what I could salvage up there.
“Don’t you have some lawyering to do?” I asked Damon when he followed me.
“You’re more important.”
As annoying as having him hovering around was, the words made a lump rise in my throat. I’d never had a man say that to me before. Then my bubble burst, and I mentally kicked myself.
“Right. I forgot I was your job there for a minute. I hope Mason’s paying you overtime.”
He grabbed my arm and swung me around. “I’m here because I care about you.”
I studied his face. That intensity was back in his eyes. A shiver ran through me. I couldn’t hide it.
“What’s wrong?” His scowl deepened.
Abruptly he let go of me and stepped back, and I realized he thought I was scared of him. My first instinct was to give him an earful. It would take a lot more to scare me. But then I stopped myself.
The truth was, on some level, I was scared of him. Scared of his kisses and the way he made me feel. Scared that the only reason he was here at all was because he was being paid. Scared how much I wanted him to be there with me and scared how much I wanted to wrap my arms around him and start kissing him again.
Distance between us was a good idea.
I shrugged in answer to his question and walked away. He stalked after me, his silence like a lead cloud.
The box truck should have warned me. It looked as though someone had taken an enormous scythe to it and sheered off pieces. I walked through to the Thunderbird’s bay in the garage and froze, my mouth hanging open.
This was very personal.
A wedge had cut through the car lengthwise. Oil, coolant, gas, and other liquids spilled across the floor like blood. The smell of it coated my nasal passages and washed over my tongue. Like licking an engine.
I could see why John said there was no hope. The body was bent inward, following the thrust of the giant ax that had cut through the car. The engine was chopped in two. The axles, the gas tank, the transmission— That one single strike had severed just about every important component.
I doubled over like I’d been punched, gasping for breath. Then fury boiled through me.
“When I find out who did this, I’m going to tear them apart with my bare hands.” I flexed my fingers and balled them into fists. I desperately wanted to hit something. I wanted to scream and kick and raise hell.
Instead I made myself relax. I wrapped a blanket of cool calm around myself. Old habit. Or maybe it was a skill. Another thing Aunty Mommy had taught me. Don’t let your anger get the best of you.
“I’m going upstairs. I’m surprised the steps hadn’t been destroyed.”
“I fixed them,” Damon explained, his voice tight.
“When?”
“This morning when we got here and found this mess.”
He’d used magic, of course. I’d pictured him with a hammer and nails, muscles bunching and rolling as he worked. I set that image aside to enjoy later when I was taking a bubble bath, maybe. I sighed. My bathtub had a dozen cracks through it.
I walked through my loft, making myself inventory the damage. It was like a food processor had wandered through, chopping at the walls, the furniture—everything. I found some jewelry that remained intact, and a few knickknacks. My bedroom smelled like the perfume department in some store. All of my bottles had been shattered.
After I toured through all the destruction, I returned to the living room. My arms were crossed over my chest. I felt as if I was about to explode, but I didn’t know if I was going to go into a rage or drop to the floor crying.
Fresh start, I told myself. Reinvention if you want it. You’ve got a blank slate to change anything you didn’t like when you built this place.
The building had started as a granary, and later a feed store had been added. When the owner died, he didn’t leave a will, and eventually the place came on the market. I didn’t have much competition for it, but it was perfect for what I wanted. I’d loved its charm.
I’d turned the bottom floor into my showroom and warehouse and the upstairs into my home. The structure had ended up being in pretty good shape. I’d added some windows then brought in plumbers and electricians, added insulation and a new HVAC system, and then built out the spaces the way I wanted.
It had been a few years, and over time, I’d realized where I could have done better. Putting in little faux room spaces in the shop to better display the furniture was one way. I also wanted to do a featured artist area where they could display and sell their works with a small commission to the store. I’d also considered putting in a little coffee kiosk with a seating area. I had the room. Just the bottom floor was more than six thousand square feet, and that didn’t include the garage.
My loft took up half of the top floor, and the other half was empty for the most part. I’d been debating adding another apartment or two to rent out, or else turn it into showroom space. Now was the time to decide.
“Oh, hell,” I said. “The water. We need to shut it off. And the gas. There could be leaks.”
“The police took care of it,” Damon said. “They found a broken pipe in the bathroom and shut off the water and then shut off the gas for good measure.
I took a deep breath to steady myself. “Good. That’s really good.”
What else was I forgetting to do? There was so much, I hardly knew where to start. I had to start phoning clients. And the window guy was coming soon. And the adjuster.
“I’d better get downstairs,” I said. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m upright and breathing, and that’s always counted as a win in my book.”
“Your aunt was a psychopath.”
Damon’s comment came out of left field and invited me to confide in him. Not going to happen.
“What do Ballard and Jeffers think caused the gargoyles to fall?” I asked as I descended the back steps. I was going to put in a better entry, I decided. For both the front of my loft and the back. Maybe I should call and architect and see what sort of creative options I had.
If I could afford them. Insurance would pay out, but I still had to cover the deductibles, which weren’t pocket change. All the upgrades would be on me. I also needed to cover employee expenses without any income for a while. At least the estate sales part of the business would march on, thank goodness. And I could send my shop employees to Monica. She’d appreciate that, especially since she’d been bugging me to expand and pick up sales in a wider radius.
I needed the interior of the shop to look as high end as the merchandise, which was going to cost money, but the renovations could be deducted off my taxes, which might balance things out enough to make an extensive remodel the smart move. And if I turned the other half of the upstairs into two apartments, the added income would really help. If I put in quality finishes and appliances, I could charge top dollar.
“How can I help?” Damon asked when I sat back down at my makeshift office.
“Do you think you can rig the phone to work in here? I have to make a lot of calls. And maybe you could show the insurance adjuster around when she gets here. There’s a guy coming to look at replacing the windows too.”
“You might want to call the gas company and a plumber too.”
I grabbed a piece of paper and started scribbling my to-do list. Damon continued to hover, and I looked up at him. He was scowling at me.
“What’s wrong?”
“This was never supposed to happen,” he said. “I was supposed to protect you.”
“It’s not like you knew it was going to happen,” I said. “Anyway, what could you do? They beat my security system, and it’s top of the line.”
“I should have set wards. I know the world of your heritage. You don’t. Its politics are ugly and personal. You have the potential to be an important player. Like it or not, you are now a walking target. Some are going to want to get their hands on you and use you; others are going to want you dead. I should have done more to protect you. You sure as hell weren’t doing much.”
The obvious condemnation in his last words stung. Part of me wanted to demonstrate just how capable I was of protecting my own damned self, but the other part was curious. Since I could always kick his ass later, I let the curiosity win out.
“All right. I’ll bite. Enlighten me about the world you come from. What makes me so interesting?”
He smiled mockingly but I didn’t think it was aimed at me. Then he planted his hands on the top of the folding desk and leaned down to look me straight in the eyes.
“Your family—both paternal and maternal—are like royalty in the world of magic. In the mundane world, they would be the equivalent of leaders of countries. That makes them targets for all kinds of opportunists and people who would harm them. They can’t trust their friends any more than they can trust their enemies. The game is power—both political and magical. The more you have of the latter, the better you rate in the former. Your family is swimming in an ocean of power where everybody is a shark, even the least capable sorcerer. I’d say it was far more than you could possibly imagine, but you’ve been kept in the dark, so you can’t even begin to imagine anything.
“You are a rare prize, if only for the sake of the blood running through your veins. Your magic is largely untried. You barely know what you are even capable of. Just the ability to turn yourself into smoke makes you unique. That feat isn’t even possible as far as the magic world knows. There are many who would take you and use you, and in all truth, you don’t really have the tools to protect yourself. Yes, I know—”
He waved away my protest even as I opened my mouth.
“Sure, you protected yourself from me when I tried to take you. But I wasn’t trying very hard, and I didn’t want to hurt you. Trust me when I say that nobody else is going to underestimate you. If anything, they’ll overestimate. Your bloodlines carry that much magic. You will not be able to save yourself when they come for you again ... and they will.” He gestured behind himself, toward the destruction. “That’s just a surface scratch.”
My first reaction was to tell him to fuck off. I could damned well take care of myself. But I also liked to be reasonable on occasion, and I knew better than anybody that I wasn’t invincible. Someone could control me and make me do things against my will. All they needed was the right leverage. In my case, threaten my friends or my employees. Or Ajax.
He’d curled up on the floor under the table. An unhappy, high-pitched whine periodically emerged from him. He didn’t like the heat in our voices, but for whatever reason, he didn’t find Damon a threat at the moment. Maybe it was the table between us. Looking up at the man, I thought the dog was nuts. Damon radiated threat and the table would be no better than wet toilet paper if he wanted to come after me.
His body vibrated with dangerous intensity. He might look like a civilized lawyer on the outside, but inside hid someone much less tame, a warrior, maybe, or a knight ready to chop an enemy to bits. And his eyes—they promised both violence and safety, the first for his enemies, the second for me.
In that moment, I almost believed it was because he wanted to protect me and not because Mason had told him to.
His voice softened and he ran his fingers along the side of my face in a feather-light caress. “Your life has been hit by a freight train. Like it or not, everything’s going to change. It already has. If you don’t take better precautions, then you’re either going to end up dead or at the mercy of someone else.”
My eyes narrowed and I pushed his hand away. “What’s the difference between you running my life, Mason, or somebody else?”
He straightened. “I’m not trying to run your life.”
I snorted. “Sure you are. You’re always telling me what I should be doing or not doing or where I should go or how I should take care of myself. It’s like you think I’m the village idiot.”
“You damned well seem to need a keeper half the time,” he retorted.
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Oh yes, I can totally see that,” he said sarcastically. “You have no idea what sort of shit is about to hit your fan. You may be decently powerful, but if you don’t know what you’re doing or who your enemies are, then yeah, you need a fucking keeper.”
I flushed hot, my fingers curling tight on the arms of my chair. “Kiss my ass. I’ll handle whatever and whoever I have to on my own.”
He snarled and slapped his hand on the table, making the printer and laptop jump. “How the hell do you think you’ll stop them?”
Ajax had been growing more and more uneasy as our argument grew angrier. At the sound of the slap, he launched himself at Damon. The dog clamped his jaws around Damon’s arm, his head twisting and jerking as he growled furiously.
Damon swore as he’d grabbed Ajax’s muzzle. A flash of blue light. Ajax dropped to the ground and staggered drunkenly back, shaking his head.
I didn’t know who to go to first. Damon’s arm was torn and mangled. Blood streamed from it in miniature rivers. Ajax collapsed and went still. That’s when I stopped thinking and went straight to action.
I stripped off my shirt and wrapped it around Damon’s arm. His shirt, actually. His arm was shredded. I was sure Ajax had bitten him to the bone. A welter of emotions churned inside me. I didn’t even know what I was feeling. Horror. Panic. Terror for both dog and man. Clawing guilt. If not for me, Ajax wouldn’t have bitten Damon. Neither would be hurt. Dear God, let Ajax only be hurt.
“You need to get to the hospital. We need to get you in the truck before you pass out.” I could hear the tremor in my voice. What if Ajax had torn through an artery? What if Damon died?
My shirt was already soaked through. He could be bleeding to death right in front of me. Panic sent my heart into overdrive. “I have to find something to bind your wound better and slow the bleeding. I’ll be back. Wait here.” As if he could even walk.
I pushed Damon down into the chair and raced desperately up the stairs to my loft. I grabbed shredded sheets off the floor where they’d landed after the vandalism. I found a paring knife in the kitchen and fled back downstairs. The entire time I berated myself: Why hadn’t I called an ambulance? Why hadn’t I called 911? I dug in my pocket for my phone then remembered it was still on my desk.
I raced back, half expecting to find Damon passed out or worse. Instead he remained slumped in the chair, his eyes closed, his mouth pulled wide in a pained grimace. My shirt lay sodden on the floor. The hand on his undamaged arm wrapped the wounds. A blue nimbus lit it, sheathing his fingers and his arm in an icy glow. I stopped in the doorway, watching as the wounds closed up. Relief made me dizzy. My legs sagged and tears burned my eyes. I blinked fast and carefully didn’t think about how shaken I was to see Damon wounded. I’d rather it had been me.
It took several minutes for the healing to finish. Finally the glow faded and Damon slumped.
I dropped the sheets and knife and went to his side. I touched his shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”
His face was pale and grooves cut deeply around his nose and mouth. “I’ll be fine. Check the dog.”
I hesitated but then dropped to my knees beside Ajax. He lay awkwardly twisted, his eyes closed. Blood stained his lips and muzzle, and I had to swallow nausea. This was my fault. I’d assumed my knack for calming animals would keep him from hurting anyone. I’d pretended he was an ordinary dog but he wasn’t. He was abused and half wild. And maybe a wolf. Clearly he was dangerous. I also loved him with all my heart. He’d only been protecting me. How could I fault him for that?
I stroked his head. He was too still. I couldn’t see any evidence of a wound. I bent down. He was still breathing, but his breaths were shallow and sluggish.
“Oh no,” I whispered and tears ran down my cheeks. “No, no, no. C’mon Ajax, you’ve got to wake up.”
I pulled him across my lap and hugged him, nuzzling my face in his fur.
“Wake up. Please wake up.” My voice broke and my chest felt so tight, I could barely breathe.
Then Damon dropped down in front of me, his legs straddling mine. He rested his bloodstained hands on Ajax. That icy blue burst of light again. It rolled over Ajax’s limp body, enveloping him. The dog kicked and whimpered, his body tensing. His eyes fluttered, showing the whites.
All of a sudden, he went boneless. The light of Damon’s magic went out. He sat back on his heels, breathing hard, his head hanging down.
“Are you all right?”
He gave a slight nod but didn’t look up. “Tired,” he rasped. “He’ll be okay.”
I’d already given up hope when Ajax’s body went limp. I held him tight against me as if that would keep his soul trapped in his body. It took me a second to process Damon’s words.
“Okay?” I echoed and now I felt the rise and fall of the dog’s ribs, slow and steady.
“Needs rest,” Damon said. He gripped the table to help himself up, but he’d only gotten into a crouch before his legs gave out. He dropped back on top of my legs and then slowly pitched over in a dead faint.
At least I hoped it was a faint.
I laid Ajax back down and turned to Damon, pushing his legs out straight. I put a hand on his chest. His heart thumped fast against my palm. The answering surge of relief made me dizzy.
I grabbed the phone and dialed. Jen answered.
“How are you?” she asked, her voice worried.
“I need help,” I said. “How fast can you get to the shop?”
She didn’t hesitate, even though she was probably knee deep in a project. “Twenty minutes.”
“Bring Stacey and Lorraine if you can. Hurry.”
I hung up and tossed the phone back on the table. I gathered the torn sheets and folded them into something resembling a pillow and put that under Damon’s head. With the water shut off, I had no way to wash his arm or hands. Or mine. They were smeared with his blood from trying to stanch the wounds.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t know what to do to help.
Without thinking, I reached out to brush Damon’s hair away from his face. I traced my fingers down along his cheekbone and over the soft bristles of his carefully trimmed beard. Funny, I hadn’t paid any attention to it when he kissed me. Now I stroked my fingers over it.
Abruptly I yanked my hand back. His blood was literally on my hands and I was petting him? God, I was insane. Psychotic.
It seemed to take forever for the girls to arrive. Jen rushed in first.
“Beck? Beck?” she called.
“In here.”
She stopped in the doorway. “What the hell happened? Jesus, you’re covered with blood. And Damon too!”
She dropped her purse and came to pull me to my feet. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “The blood’s Damon’s. Ajax bit him.”
“With all that blood, it was a hell of a bite. Did you call an ambulance?”
“Damon healed himself.”
She gaped.
“With magic,” I explained.
She ran her fingers through her straight, black hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“There’s no water here. We need to get him back to his hotel so I can get him cleaned up and he can rest.”
“What happened to the wolf?”
“He’s a dog.”
“Sure he is. What happened?”
“Damon hit him with some sort of magic and it hurt him. Then Damon healed him. That’s what he said before he passed out. I’ve got a feeling neither one of them are going to wake up any time soon.”