Home > Eve of Darkness(36)

Eve of Darkness(36)
Author: Sylvia Day

“This is terrible in so many ways,” she said.

“I’m sorry, angel.”

“I loved her.” She struggled to push her key into the lock of her door. It was hard to see through tears.

Alec took her keys from her and worked his way through the dead bolts. He pushed open the door and gestured her in.

“I liked her,” Eve continued, setting her Coach bag atop the console table where she kept her gun. The screen door to the patio was open and a crisp sea breeze wafted through her sheer curtains, billowing through them like a ship’s sails. “Really liked her. Some people you only like a little, some you only like on certain occasions, and some you only like when you’re drunk. But I liked her all ways and all the time.”

He pulled her into a tight embrace.

Her hands fisted in his shirt. “I’m going to miss her. And I’ll probably hate whoever moves in next door.”

“Don’t say that,” he murmured. “Give them a chance.”

She rubbed her face into the cotton of his T-shirt, drying her tears. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Can I offer a suggestion?”

Leaning back, Eve met his gaze. “I mean about our living arrangements.”

His mouth curved in a smile that curled her toes. “Of course I’ll move in with you, angel. I was just waiting for you to ask.”

“My dad would kill me.”

“This coming from the gal who survived a tengu, a Nix, and a wolf in a week?”

“They have nothing on my dad’s silent treatment, let me tell you.” She pulled away. “I mean he’s silent most of the time, but when he is peeved about something, he becomes really silent. Oppressively silent. I hate it. Makes me squirm.”

“Guess I better go with plan B, then.”

She frowned. “What’s plan B?”

“Moving in next door when the police are done with it.”

“What?”

“It’s perfect.”

“It’s creepy.”

“She was a sweet old lady, angel. She’s with God now; she’s not hanging around worrying about us.”

The doorbell rang.

They both stilled. Alec arched a brow in silent query. She shook her head. Knocking came next, an annoying impatient rapping.

“Ms. Hollis?”

Eve groaned in recognition of the voice.

“It’s Detectives Ingram and Jones from the Anaheim Police Department. We’d like to speak with you.”

Blowing out her breath, she went to the door and opened it. “Hello, Detectives.”

“Can we come in?”

“Certainly.” She stepped out of the way, her heels rapping on the hardwood floor. She’d dressed for business to see Gardara—skirt, blouse, and chignon. Now, she was doubly glad to be formidably attired.

The two policemen entered and she was once again struck by what an odd pairing they were. One short and thin, the other tall and portly. But there was a synergy between them that told her they had been working together a long time.

“Would either of you like some coffee?” she asked.

“Sure,” Jones said, unsmiling.

Eve led the group into the kitchen and began preparing the coffeemaker. “So what brings you to my door?”

“We found a local florist who remembers selling water lilies on two separate occasions to this man,” Ingram said.

She looked over her shoulder. The detective held up a sketch artist’s rendering. Mostly she found the ones she saw on television to be useless for identification purposes, but this one was good. It looked eerily like the Nix. She took the carafe over to the sink.

“Have you seen this man, Ms. Hollis?” Jones asked.

“No.” The mark burned.

“What about you, Mr. Cain? Have you seen him?”

“I haven’t, no.” Alec, moved to the cupboard that held the mugs.

“I don’t believe you,” Ingram said bluntly.

Eve sighed and filled up the water reservoir of the coffeemaker. “I’m sorry about that.”

“So are we.” Jones propped one foot on the rail that ran along the bottom of the island. “You see, either both you and Mrs. Basso received flowers—which is what we think happened—or another woman in Huntington Beach has been targeted. The rest of the lilies were purchased at various locations in Anaheim. We don’t want to waste our time on you, if there’s another victim out there.”

Holding her tongue was killing Eve. She could hear the frustration in the detectives’ voices and it broke her heart. She hated to send them on a wild goose chase, but what else could she do? Telling the truth wasn’t an option.

Alec pulled the bag of coffee beans out of the freezer. “Did you look at the security tapes?”

As Eve took the bag from him and poured the beans into the grinder, her hands were steady but she was shaking inside.

“We did,” Jones admitted. “This man visited Mrs. Basso.”

“But not Ms. Hollis,” Alec finished.

Eve realized he’d planned ahead and doctored the video. She was both grateful and admiring.

The din of the grinder blocked out all conversation for a few moments, then she filled the filter and turned on the coffeemaker. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and faced the two detectives.

“I really wish I could help you,” she said softly.

Ingram smiled grimly and toyed with his handlebar mustache. “We think you can, Ms. Hollis. You’ll be seeing us around until we’re sure either way.”

“I’ll have to stock up on coffee, then.”

Alec moved the mugs from the counter to the island. “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way . . . Cream and sugar, anyone?”

Eve was curled up on her living room sofa watching Wildest Police Videos when the knock came to her front door.

She debated ignoring it. Today was the first day in three weeks of training where she didn’t feel like she had been hit by a truck. She didn’t want any unwanted visitors ruining it. Even with her ability to heal rapidly, Mark combat training was hard work and it was six days a week. She’d come to seriously appreciate the classroom-only days. And Sunday. Now known affectionately as “vegetation day.”

The knocking came again, louder.

With a small grunt, Eve pushed to her feet. Out of habit, she paused at the console table by the door and withdrew her gun. Then she peered through the peephole. Alec stood there, smiling.

“Angel,” he called out in that rumbling purr that caressed like warm velvet. “It’s just your friendly neighbor.”

Pulling the door open, she waved at him with her gun hand. He was wearing shades, a tank top, knee-length Dickies shorts, and pure sex appeal. No one wore it better.

He pushed his sunglasses up and smiled. “Pretty soon you’ll be more deadly than that weapon.”

“I still like the way it feels.” She hefted it reverently. “Weighty, solid.”

With one hand on the jamb, Alec leaned in. She watched, riveted. He stopped with his lips a hairs-breadth away from hers.

“I’ve got something weighty and solid,” he murmured, his breath gusting across her lips. “Wanna take it for a ride?”

“That’s so crude,” she whispered back. “I think it turned me on.”

He kissed her. “I was talking about my bike.”

Her mouth made a moue.

“I want to take you out,” he said. “Let’s have some fun and relax a little.”

“We can have fun here.”

“And we will.” His dark eyes burned with promise. “Later.”

“What’s wrong with now?”

Alec laughed. “Much as I love hav**g s*x with you—and you know I do—we’ve never been on a date.”

Eve frowned. “A date?”

“You. Me. Outside. In the sun. Doing things together in public that won’t get us arrested.”

“What things?”

He shouldered his way in and plucked the gun from her hand. “I was thinking we could take a ride down the coast to San Diego. It’s a beautiful day.”

She watched him return her weapon to its padded case and zip it up. Then he tucked it back into the drawer.

A date. Something warm and fuzzy expanded in her chest. “Let me change.”

“Don’t. You look hot.”

Eve looked down at her outfit of shorts and tank top. Totally, ridiculously unsafe for motorcycle riding. But then again, there were some perks to being marked. Alec had hyper reflexes and she was built like a tank. Kinda. Sorta.

“If you turn off the television,” she said, “I’ll go get my boots.”

Alec caught her arm. “Wear those.” He pointed to the flirty flip-flops tucked beneath the console.

“Not very practical on a bike,” she pointed out.

“Let’s be impractical. It’s Sunday. You’re supposed to take the day off.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“Have I ever told you,” he purred, “how sexy those little flowers you have painted on your big toes are?”

Eve slipped on the shoes. “What’s in San Diego?”

“Seahawks versus Chargers.”

“That’s such a guy date,” Eve teased, smiling.

He grabbed her keys and shades. Then he pulled her out to the hallway and locked the door. “We’ll take care of the girl parts later.”

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