The Isis Collar

9

It’s really sad when you’re completely exhausted and it isn’t even eleven o’clock in the morning. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a little ball and go to sleep. No, scratch that, not sleep. Not when I was liable to end up God knew where with no memory of how I got there. So instead of going home, I had the cabbie drop me off at the office. I needed to make a few calls, do some research into the entity, maybe arrange another exorcism. You know, the usual.

My office is on the third floor of the only big old Victorian mansion downtown. It’s a registered historic landmark, perfectly tended, and is worth a not-so-small fortune. I own it, a fact that simultaneously thrills and scares the crap out of me every time I see the place. I try not to worry about things like property taxes and maintenance fees. But of course I do. Vicki’s mother, mega–movie star Cassandra Meadows, may have decided to drop her suit contesting Vicki’s will, but I really did want to give all of the cash portion of my inheritance to the special school being set up in my sister’s name. My accountant, on the other hand, wants me to keep at least 10 percent for expenses and emergencies. I was still waffling on that.

I paid the cabbie, my mind going over who I should call first. Once upon a time it would have been an easy decision. When in doubt, call Warren Landingham. Warren, “El Jefe,” is the head of Paranormal Studies at the university where I got my degree. He’d been a father figure to me, and a close friend. But both he and his son had betrayed me. Granted it was to save Warren’s daughter, Emma. And yes, Emma is second only to Dawna as my best friend, but it was still a betrayal. And try as I might I couldn’t just forgive and forget. I don’t trust easily, but I’d trusted them both. Which made the pain that much worse.

I could call Dr. Sloan. Aaron Sloan is a grizzled old guy with wiry white hair and brows that bristle over the top of his Coke-bottle glasses. He’s as brilliant in his own way as El Jefe. But while Warren is more of a generalist, and plays university politics, Aaron focuses almost exclusively on curses and the demonic. If he doesn’t know the answer, he knows who does, or can find out.

He’d given me a textbook the last time I’d been to his office—Man’s Experience of the Divine—and I never had taken the time to read it. Now might be the time to start. It would be embarrassing to call him and find out I had had the answer sitting on the shelf in my office.

“Morning, Celia. Are you okay?” Dawna’s face had a thoughtful and worried expression. I noticed she didn’t say I looked bad again. Smart girl. It’s just one of the reasons I like her so well.

“Rizzoli dragged me to the FBI offices to help interrogate a witness. I’m feeling a little twitchy. What do we have for food here?” “Twitchy” was our private code for the vamp trying to get the best of me. At first after the attack I’d had to eat every four hours. Which was a real nuisance—particularly since I couldn’t eat any solids at all. Thankfully, things have settled down a bit. If I make sure to take my liquid vitamins, and have lots of protein via au jus or broth I can eat three times a day. Unless I’m stressed. Today was shaping up to be very stressful.

She pursed perfect mauve-tinted lips. “Hmm … bad morning interrogations probably call for a big cup of meat broth and some chocolate Ensure. Or … ooh! Wait. I have some phð. We could strain it to keep the noodles and other stuff out. We could use the blender, but that’s almost sacrilege.”

My smile was automatic. No, it wasn’t a traditional breakfast, but Grandma Long’s phð, a Vietnamese noodle soup, was legendary.

“Thanks! Are you sure? I don’t want to steal your lunch.”

The phone started to beep and she reached for the handset. “You won’t. You drink the broth. I’ll eat the meat and noodles. It’s all good.”

It made perfect sense and I got to the small office kitchen in record time. We have a full-sized refrigerator because everyone in the building works really weird hours and needs to have food available around the clock. The moment I opened the door, the scent of the phð erupted into my nose from beneath the plastic cover on the bowl. My fingers were tapping on the counter as the microwave heated the soup, until it occurred to me that I needed to find a secondary container and some way to strain the noodles. Three plastic forks and a tumbler later and I was ready.

I was trying to manage the forks, hot bowl, and tumbler when the bowl started to slip. Dawna was there just in time to grab the pot holder and steady the bowl before the whole mess wound up down the drain. “Got it. Go ahead.”

The third hand was just what I needed and I managed to get most of the broth from the bowl into the glass. It was worth the fuss. The beef broth and spices wowed my bland-stricken tongue. I could only hope it wouldn’t be too much for my stomach. But it would still be worth it. I nodded to my friend as she speared a forkful of noodles and twirled. “Amazing, as always. My compliments to your grandma. Did I ever thank her for the batch she made me after the attack?”

“Yep. Although I have to admit, she was horrified that you ran it through the blender. That’s why I mentioned sacrilege.”

“It was the only way I could get it down.”

“I know.” She ate another bite of noodles. Apparently she’d decided to join me for brunch. Since the phones were quiet, and Dottie was due in soon, I didn’t see any reason for her not to.

“Speaking of your granny, how goes the building situation? Has she moved in yet?”

When Vicki died, she gifted some real estate to me, Dawna, and our friend Emma. I got my house, which was actually the beach house of the estate where Vicki used to live, plus the office building. Dawna got the apartment building she lived in and was now struggling with an extended family who all expected to live there for free. She shook her head wearily. “I turned over the whole mess to my brother. I mean, I don’t really care whether people live there, but I have to at least pay the taxes and insurance on the place. I told Tal if he would manage the place and figure out reasonable rents for everyone, then he could live there for free.”

I took the last sip of broth that was free of stray noodles. “Isn’t he the one who worked for that big building management company in L.A.?”

She nodded. “That’s why I picked him. He knows people who do janitorial and repairs and such. It’s too big a job for just one person, but he delegates really well.” One last noodle got sucked through her lips and then she rinsed out the bowl in the sink. “So anyway. Enough about me. Why’s your life sucking today? What sort of interrogation could you be able to do?”

So it hadn’t gotten past her. She was just giving me time to think and eat. “It’s a mess, and I’m not sure I’m even allowed to talk about it.”

“Bummer.”

Ever one to change the subject, I looked out the doorway toward the front of the building. “I’m surprised the phones aren’t ringing.”

She shrugged. “I put the lines on hold when I eat or when I need a bathroom break. But sure, we can go back that way. Are you just here to pick up messages or are you going to actually, you know, work?” Her voice was teasing, but there was an edge of concern underneath. After a truly hellish couple of months, I’d taken a short holiday. But the mess at the school had turned it into a long holiday. Which I couldn’t help, but really couldn’t afford, either.

“Actually, I was going to do a little bit of research. Unless you might have some free time.” I looked at her hopefully. “I’ve got a textbook on divine entities. I ran into something today that was non-corporeal, but intelligent.” I paused and made sure I had her attention. “Vicki intelligent. Or maybe more.”

“That’s…” She let out a breath and didn’t finish her sentence until she was back at her desk, the phones were off hold, and the book’s cover was open. “Not good. Not good at all. I loved Vicki like a sister, but she was a major aberration in the spirit world. So you’re thinking a demonic shade? There are still a few left out there. Hopefully just lesser demons, but still—”

I leaned on the corner of her desk, both for emphasis and to keep my balance. Damned leg. I shook my head in frustration. “Didn’t feel very lesser. But he said he was most definitely not demonic.”

She put a finger on the page to mark her place and looked up with wide eyes. “He … said? It could speak? Like out loud?”

My nod was emphatic. “And not just in my head. Three other people heard him. He wouldn’t say his name, but he knew my name and responded verbally to comments I made in my head. The only manifestation was a swirly ball of energy, but I got the feeling he could probably do more if he’d wanted to. I’d planned to do it myself, but the more I think about it, the more afraid I am to open the book. What if there’s something written there that … well, attaches to me?”

“Eww, that’s ugly powerful. Okay, I’ll start reading. What are you going to do?”

A small snort escaped me before I could stop it. “What do you think? Get some more protection charms. I think I need the industrial-strength variety. And I’m all out of boomers.”

That perked Dawna up. “Are you going to Levy’s? Could I go with?”

“To Levy’s? Why would you want to go there?” I went there all the time because it was the best weapons shop in three counties. But Dawna? She didn’t own much in the way of weapons.

“Isaac was tailoring something for me and called to say it’s ready. So can I go?” She didn’t expand on that, which was interesting.

Yeah, I’d love to have her along because we always have a great time together and we haven’t been spending as much time around each other as we used to. It would also save me cab fare. “I was thinking about going right now. It’s not officially your lunch hour. Ron will have a fit.”

Dawna gave me a grin of pure delight. “Not a problem. Watch this.” She picked up the handset and pressed two digits before turning on the speaker. “Ron?”

“Yes?” He sounded impatient and brusque—so pretty much normal.

“I need to go to lunch early and I’ll probably be back late. I need to get some shopping done.” Oh, man! That was just asking for a screaming match. Ron hated shopping. He felt it was a complete waste of time and had once harangued Dawna for being ten minutes late when she’d gone to pick up office supplies.

There was a long pause and I hovered over her desk, waiting to have to jump in and defend her. My jaw dropped when he responded: “That’s fine. Just put a note on the door. I’ll catch the phone until you get back.”

Dawna looked far too self-satisfied when she answered. “Thanks, Ron. Be back soon.” Oh, there was definitely a story there and I would know it before the end of the trip.

She made a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen up while I slathered sunscreen on every open piece of skin; then we hurried out to the lot and her trusty Honda. I managed to wait until we were safely inside the car where nobody could hear me scream; I did. “Ahhh! What did you do with the real Ron? I don’t want him suing me because you put some kind of spell on him.”

She laughed long and loud until I finally joined her. God, it felt good to laugh, even if it was the nervous kind. She put the car in gear and let me stew for a minute while she pulled into traffic. “It’s okay. I earned a little reward. I’ve been here since two.”

“Two? A.M.? You’re kidding me! Why in the world did you come in so early?”

She stifled a yawn as she pulled to a careful stop at the traffic light on the corner. She rolled down the window, savoring a breeze that was fresh, if cold. “He needed a notary. One of his clients had to fly to Europe and that tropical storm over Bermuda was worrying him. He wanted to sign his will before he boarded the plane. I told Ron he owed me … several.” She lowered her sunglasses to the tip of her nose. “This is the first.”

Hard to argue with that logic. I relaxed and rode, not even caring about the gulls circling above like tiny white vultures, until we pulled up to Levy’s Custom Apparel. Isaac Levy is a good man and a good friend—we’ve known each other for years. His specialty is suit jackets tailored and spelled in such a way that you can carry an arsenal without any of it showing, but still having everything available at hand for a quick draw. His clothes are expensive as hell, but worth every penny.

Someone pulled out of a space just as we got there and Dawna managed to slip into the spot a hair’s breadth quicker than a blonde in a Mercedes.

Thankfully, I had to take only a few wobbling steps to cross from the glare of the morning sun that made me squint and caused a sudden throbbing in my head into the relative darkness of the shop. The sudden shift from light to dark made my head pound even harder, although that didn’t make any sense. Even before I blinked the tears from my eyes I knew Isaac Levy was in the shop, thanks to the scent of his signature cologne and the uneven footfalls caused by a bum knee.

Isaac Levy is one of those people you can’t really forget once you meet them. The ring of wiry salt-and-pepper hair, the bushy eyebrows over piercing brown eyes, the bulbous nose—he’s not really attractive, but he’s intelligent, funny, and utterly unique. He’s also an amazing magical technician. Besides the jackets he does artifact work. Charms, weapons, he’s the best of the best. He’s been married to the love of his life for umpteen years, having won her away from Morris Goldstein, a wealthy jeweler. Isaac promised her that if she’d give him a chance, he’d give her twice as much jewelry as Morris would. He’s done his best to keep that promise. The woman practically clanks when she walks. Even the most overdecorated rapper would be jealous.

“Celia, Dawna. How are you lovely ladies?” Isaac reached and took my hand, bestowing a breath of kiss on the skin. Aww … how can you not love the guy? “Darlings, it’s so good to see you.” He gave us each a huge hug, then took a step back, looking me critically up and down.

“You need to eat more. And you’re pale. Even for you.” It was friendly scolding, but there was real concern beneath it.

“Actually, this is normal now,” I said sadly. “The vampire thing.”

He let out a small growl. “I’d hoped it would … well, get better.”

“No. It’s sort of permanent,” I assured him. “But I’m okay. Just … pale.” I turned to Dawna, who was looking around with wide eyes. I didn’t really blame her. The place was like the TARDIS, bigger inside than out, and filled with the coolest things. But even I was impressed this time. There was another whole new section of the store with shelf upon shelf of gadgets and magical equipment, like crystals, crystal balls, and other magical foci.

But that wasn’t where Dawna was staring. No, her eyes had locked on a set of glass cases dead in the center of the store. It was a brightly lit display of holy item jewelry for every religion I’d ever heard of, and a few more that I hadn’t.

“Wow. You’ve made even more changes.” I walked around the room with Isaac following at my heels, taking in every reaction to what I saw. I finally stopped back where I started, next to the wall-mounted display of charm disks.

He gave me a brilliant smile. “Do you like it? Ira Sachs decided to retire and made me an offer on the building. And this way Gilda and I can work together without stepping on each other’s toes.”

I nodded. The place looked great and I saw a lot of things I’d been lusting after online but hadn’t had the chance to handle. I’m a tactile person. I need to see a charm or weapon, see if I can draw it or use it instinctively. I could see myself writing a big check today.

I looked around for Dawna. As I’d expected, she was busy looking at the jewelry counter. I still had my back to the door when I heard a voice behind me. “I thought I saw your car outside. You haven’t been returning my calls, young lady.” The light baritone was amused and was accompanied by a wave of powerful magic that made my skin tingle. I tried not to react but failed.

I answered without turning around and could feel him stepping closer as his magic slid across my bare skin as though I didn’t have a stitch on. “What are you doing here, Creede?”

“Back to last names so soon?” The whisper of fine silk caressed my ear as he leaned against the wall next to me. He knew exactly what he did to me when he was close. “I thought we went to first names on our last date.” I inhaled the scent of expensive cologne on clean skin and knew I was going to regret turning around, though I knew I had to.

“And who is this?” Isaac examined John closely, and I knew he could tell me more about the man from what he was and wasn’t wearing and how he held himself than most detectives could after a full week of research.

I sighed and turned. “Isaac Levy, John Creede, owner and one of the founders of Miller and Creede. John, this is Isaac. He’s a dear friend of mine, does all of my jackets, and most of my holsters and weaponry orders. He’s the best in the business.”

Isaac smiled even more broadly at the compliment, extending a chubby, ring-bedecked hand. After all, who in the business of security hadn’t heard of M&C? They’re the biggest and best in the business, and Creede’s the primary reason for that.

Creede gave the proffered hand a firm shake. “I’ve always admired Celia’s choice of equipment. I met your lovely wife on my last visit, but I’ve been wanting to meet you personally. You’re a talented charm maker.”

Isaac nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment.

Creede looked good, but then, he always did. His hair was a touch longer than last time I saw him. The golden curls made him look less severe. But the honey-colored eyes that were directly across from mine were still filled with amber fire that flickered and pulled at my stomach. It was intentional and he knew I knew. All I could do was either give in to the teasing or leave. Since I had shopping to do, I guess I was in for some squirming.

I asked the obvious question, because in the circles Creede ran in, Levy’s store was slumming. “And what brings you to this part of town?” Actually, he’d been in the store before, but Isaac hadn’t been here. But as far as Isaac was concerned, nobody had been in until he spoke with them personally.

Creede dipped his head toward Isaac and raised the bag in his hand I hadn’t seen until now. “I thought I might have some jackets tailored. I want to change where I carry some of my weapons without anyone noticing.”

“Nobody does better work than Isaac.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.” He winked at me. “Well, part of why I’m here.”

“Quality work takes time,” Isaac warned.

“I don’t mind. I’ve just noticed that the craftsmanship in Celia’s equipment seems to be better than in mine. And I can’t have that.”

Isaac laughed.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take a look around the place.” John had wandered plenty last time he was here with me, but he was at least trying to be polite and give me some time alone with Isaac.

“Not at all. Make yourself at home. Celia and I have things to discuss.” John wandered off happily. I, on the other hand, was left scrambling. Because, like his wife, what Isaac likes to discuss most are my marriage prospects, or lack thereof. Given a chance, and a gender switch, he’d be the world’s biggest yenta. I needed a change of subject—fast.

“Isaac, do you have protection charms that will hold off demons?”

He leaned in and elbowed me lightly in the ribs, his eyes fixed squarely on Creede’s nicely packaged backside. “Keep that one close and you won’t have to worry about demons. He glows with magic.”

“It’s not like that, Isaac. It’s just business.” Actually it might be like that. Or not. I was never sure with Creede. When we both had time we would sometimes go out. But we almost never had time. He was, if anything, more of a workaholic than me; something I would never have believed possible.

And then there was Bruno.

He seemed to read my mind. “Let me guess. Bruno.” The way he said the name held a world of disapproval.

Both Isaac and Gilda think Bruno did me wrong, and they’re not inclined to forgive him for it. Still, Isaac is wise enough not to push … much.

“Anyway,” I continued quickly, “I have a problem, and I’m hoping one of those boxes has the solution.”

“Really?” He tilted his head to the side, in a gesture much like a curious bird. “Tell me about it.”

I told him what had happened as simply as I could. During the explanation his expression grew serious, his eyes going nearly black and narrowing with suspicion. “Do you think it’s part of that rift from last December?”

I shrugged. I frankly didn’t know. “Could be. But this felt very different. I don’t know if it’s serious, but I want to be protected as best as possible.”

“Anything that can slip in and out of Federal police barriers is serious, Celia. Let me look around. I have some new things in back that might work.”

“Sure. I’ll check out the jewelry.”

His smile got a little wider and a lot more acquisitive. “Yes. You do that.”

I joined Dawna at the counter. She was examining a delicate gold and garnet cross that I realized might be a nice present for Gran for her birthday.

Creede appeared at my side. “I have something I want you to see, over here.” He put a firm, no-nonsense hand on my elbow and guided me away from Dawna. He wasn’t normally that aggressive, so I went along without protest. It was likely he wanted to talk to me about something work related and didn’t want to make a private issue public.

He led me to the medical magic section, one of my favorites. Spells could cure a host of ills, from simple cuts and scrapes to broken bones. I scanned the tiny identifying labels under each carefully packed box. “See anything here for demon possession?”

He pulled in a sharp breath. “Is that what’s wrong with you?” A small growl followed the words and his voice lowered to a whisper. “Jesus, Celia, why didn’t you call me and why are you just walking around the streets? C’mon, we need to get you to a priest.”

His urgency startled me and I pulled back from his frantic grasp on my wrist. “Creede, slow down. I’m fine. I haven’t been possessed—at least not in the past few months. Why are you so jumpy today?”

He let go of my arm and leaned back to stare at me quizzically like I’d grown a second head. His arms crossed over his chest and his chin lowered. “I got a call from Dr. Jean-Baptiste about a particular spell. I decided to check you out myself without you expecting me.”

He got a call? So he was one of the “experts” the doctor mentioned? Jeez, I could have done that myself without dinging my credit card for a specialist.

Creede continued to talk. “The last time I saw you limp like that, you had a bleeding leg full of glass shards. You’re squinting at the slightest hint of bright light. Your magical aura is all wrong. Something is definitely wrong with you. Talk to me, Celia, or you might find yourself trying out that body-binding charm I made for you while I take you to a hospital.”

Okay, that was several levels above disturbing. “My magical … what? I don’t have an aura.”

He sighed. “Yes, you do. You’re supernatural. Vampires have auras and so do sirens. You have a very distinct pattern that’s not like anyone else’s, and it’s not the same today as it was the last time we had dinner together. There’s something chewing at it. The colors around your head are scrambled and weird looking. Demonic possession would definitely do that.”

Could a demonic entity have been housed inside the bomb casing? That would certainly have been dangerous enough to warrant a metal case. Crap. “That honestly never occurred to me. But I’ve had a headache I can’t shake since the problem at the school. And my leg hurts every time I put weight on it.”

That made his frown deepen and he looked around the room before pulling me to an ornate chair outside the dressing rooms in the back of the store—the store’s grudging acknowledgment that not everybody likes to shop. “You’ve had the problem that long? He didn’t give me your name for confidentiality reasons, or details other than asking about a spell affecting your memory.” He snorted in amusement. “But seriously … how many half-vampire women with siren blood are there in town?” He stared at me for a long moment. “Sit.”

I did. He straddled my legs so that he could look down on the top of my head. He began to whisper a spell that was too soft to make out and I felt power flow from his fingers, his very skin. It was like lowering myself into a heated pool. The sensation of pulsing magic made me warm and drowsy and very relaxed.

That is, until his hands hovered over my hair. The gesture was gentle, so soft it bordered on tickling. But my skin instantly began to tingle and the pleasurable shivers that ran down my spine were so hard that I had to curl my toes to stop myself from shuddering visibly.

But Creede wasn’t trying to tease me. He was utterly serious as he traced his fingers over my hair without moving a single strand. A golden glow filled my vision until the room disappeared from view. My brain felt fuzzy and I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything other than the buzz of white noise in my ears. My insides were liquid with feelings I shouldn’t be having in the middle of a weapons store. When he reached my shoulders he stopped and I flicked my gaze up to see his furrowed brow. The flames in his eyes grew until they were the eyes of a cat caught by a flashlight after dark. “There’s a spell at work here. No question. It’s not demonic, but it’s amazingly complex. I understand why Dr. Jean-Baptiste couldn’t unwind it.”

Crap. “What kind of spell?” I could hear the sudden fear in my voice and my heartbeat sped up to match my quickened breath.

Creede knelt in front of me, his hands still on my shoulders. His gaze locked with mine and the compassion in his eyes made me believe the words he spoke next. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. I promise.” His fingers squeezed just a bit. “All right?”

A promise from him could be put in the bank. “Okay. Thanks. What should I do until then?”

The corner of his mouth turned up a fraction and his hands moved until they were on either side of my face. “Quit trying to be superwoman. Ask for help when you’re hurt. Remember that if you’re hurt, it’s serious.”

It sounded so logical when he said it. But … “That’s not so easy for me.”

The quirk of a smile became an amused flash of teeth. “Tell me about it.” Without any warning, he leaned forward and eased his lips against mine. I found myself being pulled into the kiss before I realized what was happening. His hand slid around my head, fingers twining in my hair, and my eyes closed automatically. I leaned into him before I realized I was doing it. My breath froze in my lungs and I couldn’t seem to think past the dual sensations of magic and gentle pressure as he slowly moved his soft, full lips against mine. Warm breath on my cheek, magic sweet as candy, and the caress of his tongue made my knees weak and my stomach do flip-flops. His hand, lightly stroking my hair, sent electric shocks to my scalp. It was a good thing I was sitting down. My heart began pounding hard and my fingers buried themselves in the fabric of the armrests to keep from wrapping around him and pulling him into my lap. I wanted to … a lot. The strength of the desire terrified me.

The kiss was probably over in seconds, though it felt like it lasted a week. He drew back slowly and I wound up suspended, eyes closed, enjoying the remaining pull of the magic that tugged at my stomach. A quick, nearly chaste kiss in the back of a store shouldn’t really be that big a deal.

Right.

The fuzzy tingles ended as quickly as they’d begun, when he yanked several hairs right out of the top of my head, causing my startled, “Ow! Damn it, John! What was that for?” My hand went to the source of the pain and I rubbed while he held up his prize to the fluorescent lights overhead and inspected the strands.

“I need to do some testing in a proper casting circle to figure out the source of that spell, and since the major disturbance was around your head, I’ll stand the best chance with hair.”

His infectious smile made me glare at him and let out a small growl. “You could have just asked instead of grabbing it while you were kissing me. And you didn’t have to do that to begin with.”

I knew I was being petulant and couldn’t seem to help it. He sighed. “I wasn’t still kissing you, just for the record. I’d never hurt you like that. But I did have to. I like you calling me John.”

There was something in his eyes that surprised me. I suddenly realized I’d hurt his feelings when I called him Creede. That was new. I was also startled to discover it bothered me. “I’ve called you Creede since we met. Last names are part of the business. It’s nothing personal. You know that.”

He nodded, but the intensity in his eyes didn’t match the acknowledgment. “And it was fine while we were business. We’re not anymore, Celia. This is personal. You know it just like I do.”

We stared at each other for a long moment. I blinked first and lowered my gaze to stare at my feet. I didn’t want to think about it, couldn’t really deal with the reality of what he was saying. I wasn’t lying to Isaac. I expect that Bruno and I will get back together.

Eventually.

But I also can’t deny that John and I—yes, in my head, I did think of him as John—had an intense chemistry. I have to struggle not to throw myself at him whenever we’re together. And he’s impressed me, both as a mage and as a bodyguard. I trust him with my back, which I couldn’t say about many people. He’s intelligent, powerful, and magnetic. Trust and attraction—a heady combination.

Was it more than business? Yes. How much more? Thus far I hadn’t been willing to find out. Relationships are complicated and I’m not very good at them. Why get involved just to discover it won’t work?

“Can we keep it business for a little longer if I promise to call you John? I need to find out what’s wrong with me before I think about anything serious.”

He stared at me for a long moment and then dipped his head once. “I told you once that winning you would be a marathon, not a sprint. Today just proves that. Deal. You stock up on any charm you can find to stave off the demonic and I’ll find out what this spell is. Tell Isaac I’ll have to do the fitting another time. I’ve got a few minutes before a meeting this afternoon, and then I have to go out of town for a day or so. But I’ll get back to you on this tomorrow at the latest. You find anything on the wall to stave off the demonic and use them.”

That made me frown. “You just said it wasn’t demonic.”

“That’s true. But the spell could have opened you to a random event. I’d recommend as many aura protection items you can afford and maybe a Clear Mind charm or two.”

Oh. Yeah, that made sense. And hey, if I was lucky they might stave off the sleepwalking. Maybe. But it made me nervous, too. I don’t like being vulnerable and he’d just told me I was. “You think you can figure out how to fix the spell, right? So it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

His face became the poster child for intensity. “I will fix the spell. I’ll go to my workshop and start a casting to break down the elements of the spell. That can work by itself even while I’m out of town. I’ll have to move around a few appointments, but I can manage it. Expect a counterspell done by dinnertime. Keep your cell handy. You might have to come to me for the working when I figure it out.”

He sounded suddenly so much like Bruno it made me smile. They were very competitive and talented enough that they felt that nothing should be beyond fixing. And they’d never admit that they couldn’t unwind any sort of casting.

I stood up, put a hand on his arm, and met his flame-kissed eyes. “Thank you, John. Really. I don’t want you to worry about me. Still, I think it’s sweet. And I know this screws up your day. But you’re making me feel a lot less scared about something I’ve been trying not to think about.”

He let out a slow sigh and pulled back his hand just enough to interlace his fingers with mine. “I don’t want to worry about you, either, Celia. But you live a life that makes it almost impossible not to. Now shoo. I’m going back to the office to clear my calendar and then to start to work on this. Get your charms and get somewhere safe until I call.”

Sounded like a plan to me.