Paranormal Talent Agency Omnibus Page 17

  “Yes.”

  “And wasn’t he implicated in the other murder?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why would you be worried? They have the killer in custody.”

  “If he’s the killer.”

  Derek eyed me for a beat. “What makes you think he’s not the killer?”

  I picked up the chocolate martini again to think for a second before responding. “I think it’s a little too convenient,” I answered slowly.

  “Maybe that’s just because he’s guilty,” Derek countered with a shrug.

  I lifted the drink to my nose again and inhaled. Dang, that was good. I set it down and stared at my ex-husband. Here we go.

  “Witnesses at the scenes of both murders reported smelling a woody scent.” Derek started at this comment but said nothing. “And Jim isn’t the only person with connections to both victims.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Jim? I didn’t realize you knew the accused or the victims.” Derek’s eyes glittered.

  “I don’t. Not really.”

  “Then why do you care?”

  “I just do,” I said, not wanting to elaborate.

  Derek’s eyes hardened. “It’s that other guy.”

  My eyes widened, theatrically I imagined. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Cut the nonsense, Evie,” he snorted. “I knew there was something going on between you and that actor,” he spat out the last word.

  “This has nothing to do with Ryan,” I argued.

  “Ryan? I thought you said at the audition that you just met him.” He glared at me.

  “What are you accusing me of? I think you’re deflecting.”

  “From what?”

  “I saw your reaction when I mentioned the scent the witnesses reported. A scent described very much like what you smell like tonight.”

  Derek shifted slightly, his only indication that I hit a nerve. “Lots of cologne and aftershave smell like the woods. It’s manly,” he explained.

  “I’m not an idiot. I’m aware of that. I just find it highly coincidental.”

  “Why do you care?” He asked again, this time lifting both hands at me in a clear gesture of irritation.

  I glanced around to see if anybody was paying attention to his raised voice, before remembering the glamour. I noticed the pretentious guy from earlier sitting at the bar. His sunglasses reflected in the mirror.

  “I care because I like humanity and I don’t want to see an innocent man go to prison.”

  “You think I’m the killer? Because of some odor?”

  “Yes, I do.” This might not be 100% true, but I was leaning more and more in that direction.

  Derek broke eye contact and sighed heavily. “Dang, Evie, a guy can’t catch a break.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I did it. You’re right. I killed both of the women.” He watched me carefully to gauge my reaction.

  “I don’t know what to say.” This was the truth. I was stunned. I waited for him to elaborate.

  “The whole thing was a mistake.”

  “A mistake?”

  He shook his head.

  “How do you mistakenly kill not one, but two, people?”

  Derek had the good grace to at least glance away, seemingly embarrassed.

  Although, since I knew he didn’t care one whit about humanity, there must be another reason. I decided to wait him out. I picked up my chocolate martini and pretended to sip it, inhaling the amazing aroma.

  A sigh captured my attention.

  I peered over the top of the drink at my ex-husband.

  “It was just a job,” he finally stated.

  “A job? What kind of job requires you to—” I stopped with the sudden realization. “Oh.”

  Derek nodded. “I’m a Cleaner.”

  He said nothing more. He didn’t need to. Like organized crime, vampire families had Cleaners who took care of issues before they became bigger issues.

  “You were sent to Vegas to clean someone?” I asked the question slowly, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Derek was a Cleaner. When did that happen?

  As if hearing my unasked question, Derek elaborated. “A few decades ago, I was bored and looking for something new to do. I put out feelers, wanting to do more for the Family, and this was what popped up.”

  My mouth fell open. “You’ve been killing humans for decades?” I genuinely didn’t know what else to say.

  Derek rolled his eyes. “You always have cared too much for the vermin. Do you even like being a vampire?”

  I balled my fists, wanting nothing more than to knock that smug look off his face. He grinned, seeing my reaction, and knowing I wouldn’t draw that kind of attention to us. And, dammit, he was right. I released my fists and rested my hands lightly on my knees, thinking.

  “The first woman was an accident,” he continued as if telling a fun fact. “I was given information that the target would be at the theater that night. It was last minute information and it was wrong.” He shrugged, clearly not caring that he killed the wrong person.

  “Monica was a case of mistaken identity?”

  “Yes, Evie, good grief, are you being deliberately slow?”

  “No. I’m not being deliberately slow,” I responded between clenched teeth. “I’m trying to understand what a colossal moron you are.” That hit home and anger radiated off of Derek in response.

  “So, after you messed up…” I prompted.

  He might have wanted to respond to my insult. Instead he chose to continue the story.

  “I framed the husband. When that didn’t seem to be sufficient, I killed that other woman to cement the frame job.”

  I tilted my head, wondering how I ever could have loved the man before me, even before he was a vampire. This had to have been there all along. I glared at him. “You ruined three lives and – oh my goodness – there’s still a woman out there in danger!” The realization slammed into me like the proverbial ton of bricks. “You can’t kill anybody else,” I warned.

  Derek laughed. “I’m not going to,” he assured me.

  This stopped me cold. “You’re not? What about the original contract?”

  He glanced away again. “Yeah, so it turned out she was never in Las Vegas at all. She was in Las Cruces. New Mexico,” he elaborated. “Before you worry about trying to warn her, she apparently got wind of the hit, and has gone underground, so for now, the contract has been pulled.” He smiled widely. “See. It’s all finished.” He moved in closer and placed his hand on my knee again. “We can forget all about this unpleasantness and focus on the movie. And us.”

  Before I could respond, I sensed motion as someone approached. Derek and I both turned towards the person, frowning because no human should be comfortable in our energy dead zone.

  Oh no. Up close, I realized that I recognized the pretentious guy in the backwards ball cap and sunglasses.

  Ryan. He whipped the sunglasses off of his face. Boy did he look pissed!

  Derek chuckled and didn’t move. I stood immediately, put my hands on Ryan’s chest. He jerked away like he’d been burned. My hands fell to my sides. I didn’t know what to do.

  “How could you?” Ryan hissed this at me.

  Wait? Me? “What did I do?” I asked in confusion.

  “You blamed Jim for the murders. You tried to convince me he could be a killer. And the entire time you were protecting your ex-husband. Who you’re clearly fonder of than you let on,” Ryan finished with a snarl.

  How was I going to fix this? Before I could respond, Ryan continued, turning on Derek.

  “You. You killed my friend Monica and some other innocent woman, then framed Jim for both.”

  “Thanks for the recap, sport,” Derek said indolently.

  Ryan raised his hand to punch Derek and time slowed then stopped. I stared at Ryan frozen in time.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I t
urned to Derek.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not about to let that idiot hit me,” he explained and stood. “I’m leaving. You can sort this crazy out.” Derek rolled his eyes again – had he always been this juvenile, I absently wondered.

  “You can’t just leave,” I countered. “It’ll look like you vanished.”

  “So?”

  “We already don’t know what Ryan somehow overheard. Which he shouldn’t have been able to.”

  “Who cares?” Derek set his drink down on the table. “I’m leaving,” he repeated.

  “No.”

  “No?” An eyebrow lifted at my tone. “Who’s going to stop me? You?” He laughed.

  “No,” I snapped at him. “You’re going to choose to stay.” I smiled. His own smile faltered.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “So we can find out what he knows and handle this.”

  Derek stared hard at me for a moment and then fake sighed. “Fine.”

  “Return time to its normal speed. Please,” I added sweetly.

  Derek stepped slightly to the side as time returned to normal. Ryan’s punch missed Derek’s face completely. Ryan appeared confused both by the fact that he missed and that somehow Derek was now standing.

  Ryan’s gaze swung between me and Derek, his frown deepening. “What—” he started to say and then stopped.

  “Ryan, it’s not what you think.”

  “You weren’t flirting with your ex-husband, the killer?”

  “This is why I didn’t want you to come, remember?” I reminded him in a low voice.

  “So I wouldn’t see you flirting,” he sputtered. “With a killer!”

  “Shh,” I responded, emphasizing with my hands that we needed him to be quiet.

  Ryan opened his mouth to continue, and then didn’t. The disappointment on his face wounded me.

  “I told you that I might have to,” I paused, “flirt with my ex.”

  “This whole thing was a setup,” Derek jumped in, incredulous. I was unclear if he was shocked I didn’t want to get back with him or that I would, in his eyes, stoop so low as to set him up.

  “Yes, murderer,” Ryan growled.

  Derek’s eyes narrowed to murderous slits. “Shut up, human.”

  “Oh,” as if suddenly remembering, “that’s the other thing. You’re both clearly delusional. Vampires!” Ryan barked out a laugh.

  I looked around, worried someone would hear him, and that reminded me. “How could you hear us?”

  Ryan looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “Why does that matter?”

  I hesitated. Might as well go all in. “As a human, you should not have been able to hear us talking, if we didn’t want you to. We definitely didn’t want anybody to.”

  Ryan unexpectedly looked thoughtful. “Actually, I didn’t hear you,” he began.

  “How did you know what we were saying?”

  “I read your lips.”

  My eyes moved to the mirror over the bar. “In the bar mirror? You read our lips in the mirror?” In spite of myself, I was impressed. Even though a friend got busted in a similar way, it honestly never occurred to me that anybody could read our lips in a mirror. Wouldn’t it be backward?

  I realized belatedly that Ryan and Derek were staring at me while my mind wandered. “Sorry.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to the police.”

  “Who will believe you?” Derek challenged.

  “Not that the two of you have delusions of being vampires,” Ryan clarified. “It’s quite simple. I’ll point the police toward you, Derek, by mentioning an overheard conversation, woody smells at both crime scenes, and Evie as a corroborating witness.”

  His shoulders sagged, maybe not as confident and pleased as the words implied.

  I reached out again, placing my hand on his arm. He didn’t pull away this time, just gazed at me sadly.

  “Please don’t,” I begged.

  “Why not?” he asked hollowly. “It’s the truth.”

  “Yes, it is,” I agreed. “But…it puts everybody in danger,” I finished vaguely.

  “Danger?”

  With a sigh, I explained. “If you say anything, it will put you in danger. It will also threaten us with exposure.”

  “Exposure as what? Crazy people?”

  I flinched at his words and his self-satisfied expression dropped a notch.

  “We’re not crazy. I’m trying to protect us. All of us,” I hastened to add.

  “No, you’re not,” he disagreed. “You’re threatening me.” His small voice broke my heart. I hadn’t yet figured out if he and I might have a chance at something, but I felt it being snatched away.

  “I’m not.” I squeezed Ryan’s arms gently and he broke eye contact.

  “I am.” Derek chose that moment to add his two cents. He smiled wolfishly at Ryan, who pulled completely away from me.

  “Derek, good luck with that. Evie,” his voice hiccupped. “Good luck with everything.”

  Ryan and I stared at each other; if I could cry, I think I would have. Derek stewed beside me. With a final half-shrug, Ryan walked away. Away from me. Away from us. Or at least the chance of us.

  Derek broke my train of thoughts. “I’m going to kill him. You know that.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” I insisted.

  “Yes, it is. Plus, I plan to enjoy it.” Derek allowed his fangs to descend slightly to emphasize his point. I wanted to throttle him.

  “What about a mind wipe?” I offered this alternative frantically. I needed to convince Derek before he left, or Ryan was a dead man.

  “No.”

  “Just no? Why not?”

  “How can you love a human who is endangering us?” Derek sounded exasperated but my mind buzzed.

  “Love? Who said anything about love?”

  “Love, like, lust, whatever. You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t want any more innocents hurt,” I maintained. Derek saw through me.

  “He’s a threat. He knows about us, thus he’s endangering us,” he repeated slowly like I was a child.

  Now I was pissed. “He’s not the one endangering us. You are!”

  Surprised, Derek laughed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s bad enough you apparently kill humans regularly. This time, you’ve killed the wrong people. You don’t think that endangers us? Hello?”

  Derek didn’t miss the sniping tone of my statement and actually looked abashed. “We’ve buried…mistakes… before,” he offered.

  I stepped closer to him and stood on my tiptoes to bring my face as close as possible. He looked decidedly uncomfortable.

  “This is finished. We are finished. There is no us. I will never take you back, under any circumstances. And if anything happens to Ryan, I’ll go to the Family and tell them all about your…mistake,” I hissed out the last word, spun on my heels before he could respond, and strode from him, down the short stairs, and through the casino. The noise of people laughing, machines clanging, and music playing swirled around me and in my head while I walked. What did I do now?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The dark house mocked my intent. Yes, it was 3 in the morning, but since it hadn’t been that long since Ryan stormed from the casino floor, I doubted he was actually asleep. I knocked again, deliberately not banging. One, because he had neighbors. And, two, because I didn’t want to spook him.

  I sighed. He thought I was delusional. He was never going to answer the door. I pulled my phone from my purse to text him. A long shot that he’d respond. I figured it was worth the effort.

  Ryan. You know I’m at the door. Please open up.

  Nothing. I waited, not patiently. Still nothing.

  Ryan. Please let me explain. It’s not what you think.

  Well, in all honesty, it at least somewhat was, I supposed. I confirmed my ex-husband was a
killer. No response from Ryan. Okay, time to pull out all the stops.

  Ryan. I’ll start knocking on your neighbors’ doors and tell them all that I’m worried about you if you don’t open the door.

  I silently counted to thirty, unsure if I even meant my threat. Probably not. I’d probably just go away—

  The door opened and Ryan stood in the opening. His hooded hazel eyes betrayed no sense of his emotions. I tried for a smile. It faltered on my lips. A mind wipe would be so easy flashed quickly and I banished the thought immediately. I realized that was my suggestion earlier to Derek, but that was born of desperation. Away from Derek, I was convinced that I could explain this rationally to Ryan. He would understand.

  We stared at each other. My eyes drank in his mussed auburn hair, cut short yet still long enough to run my fingers through. A forest green t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, inviting my eyes to travel the length of him. He didn’t miss this and, despite himself, I was guessing, his eyes darkened with desire.

  Abruptly, he turned, breaking eye contact, and retreated into the interior of his house. I took the door left open as an invitation and followed. His comfortable blue corduroy couch threatened to swallow even his tall frame. I perched on the edge, next to him but not touching. He leaned forward, head in his hands.

  “Ryan,” I ventured, just as he spoke.

  “Evie.”

  “You go first.”

  “No, you,” he insisted.

  “Okay.” Now I was silent, formulating what I wanted to say in such a way that I didn’t sound even more bat-shit crazy than he already thought I was.

  “I’m sorry.” I paused, knowing this was completely inadequate, and yet, unsure exactly what I was apologizing for.

  Ryan must have sensed this because he lifted his head, eyes narrowed. “How could you?”

  “How could I what?”

  “I’m such a fool.” He looked away.

  Tentatively, I placed a hand on his knee. He jerked away from me like I did earlier this evening with Derek. Rejection hurt. I placed my hands in my lap, silently imploring him to look at me again. Amazingly he did. The hurt there was like a knife to my heart.