Burned (A Magic Bullet Novel Book 1) (10 page)

Niko smiled. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

"Yes," I said, climbing into the backseat, "but at least it's a thong ass."

M
y phone rang
at seven o'clock in the morning. What kind of monster calls a person this early? I rolled over in bed and snatched the phone from the bedside table.

"What?" I snarled.

"You sound just as cheerful in the morning as you do in warehouses in the middle of the night."

Captain Angel Face.

I sat up and leaned against the pillow. "Why are you calling me so early?" Or at all.

"A friend of mine mentioned she had an interesting run-in with you the other day."

Did he know Tessa, too? Yoga was beginning to seem like a colossal mistake.

"I didn't mean to be so tough on her," I said. "It was all that heavy breathing and peace be with you crap. I'm not that enlightened."

He fell silent for a moment. "Funny. Detective Thompson failed to mention that part."

I smacked my forehead. "Detective Thompson?"

"Yes, she said someone matching your description was at the crime scene of another murder." He paused for effect. "Notice I said another murder."

"Yes, your use of adjectives is very clever."

"You're avoiding my point," he said.

"Okay, okay. It was an accident."

"The murder?"

"No, the being there part." I threw back the covers and paced the floor. "I went for a run and stumbled onto the scene. I swear."

"The way you stumbled into the warehouse?"

"You know, saying 'stumble' makes me sound clumsy. I'm not clumsy."

"Why don't you tell me about it over coffee?" he said.

"Because I don't drink coffee." And I definitely don't drink coffee with a Protector.

"Maybe you should start. It might make you less cranky."

Unlikely. "Fine. When and where?"

"Eight o'clock. There's a place in Rittenhouse..."

"No," I said quickly. "Not Rittenhouse."

I could practically feel him smiling. "Making friends in town already?"

"There's a place in Old City," I said. "One block over from The Night Owl."

"I know it."

"Then I'll see you there." I hung up the phone as Farah walked into the room.

"Hot date?" she asked. "And if so, does he have a friend?"

"Not a date and he definitely does not have a friend. He's a Protector."

Her eyes popped. "The one who came here? Captain Steak and Sizzle?"

"The one and only. He heard that I was at yet another crime scene. I'm sure that will fuel his belief I'm somehow involved, meaning he will be less willing to accept my help." And less willing to help me in return. Ugh. I shook my head. "I bet he regrets returning my weapons."

Farah stared at me. "You were at another crime scene?"

Oops. I guess I forgot to mention it. "It's a coincidence."

"Alyse, I've lived here my whole life and never accidentally wandered into a single crime scene, let alone two."

"Technically, you were with me the night of the warehouse so..."

She glanced down at her T-shirt and shorts. "Give me five minutes to change and I'll go with you."

"Why would you change?" I asked. "That's what you always wear."

"These are my nighttime clothes. Duh."

"Well, they're not much different from your daytime clothes." I moved past her to get to the bathroom. I needed to shower before I left the house. My hair looked like a welcome mat for birds.

"Can I please come?" Farah batted her thick eyelashes at me.

"What happened with the Hinn?" I asked.

"Everything," she said, arching an eyebrow suggestively. "But a Naphil is untested territory."

"There are places you can go for that kind of kink," I told her. "I'll give you a list."

"Only you would have a list," she said.

"It's color-coded, too. You don't want to know how many times I had to pretend to work in one of those places over the years." The memory left a bitter taste in my mouth. "Males are the same in any shape or form."

"And I'd like to see all of Captain Reed's shapes and forms," she called after me. "You've got to let me come."

I closed the bathroom door behind me and turned on the water to muffle the sound of her pleas.

C
aptain Reed was positioned
by the entrance. He was difficult to miss, all six feet three inches of sinewy muscle. He was a modern day Adonis. It wasn't fair. He didn't even need to use a glamour to look that good. The bastard was actually born that way.

"He's here," Farah said, gripping my arm. In the end, I relented and let her tag along, partly because I owed her, but mostly because I wanted a buffer between Captain Adonis and me. If he was planning to cart me off to some Nephilim prison, I aimed to have a witness.

"Captain Reed," I said with a mock bow.

"You came," he said and his gaze drifted to Farah. "And brought reinforcements."

"She loves coffee," I explained. "Wouldn't let me leave her behind."

"Who's minding the store?" he asked Farah.

"It's eight o'clock in the morning. What time of day do you shop for your sex toys?" She winked and he pretended not to notice.

"Down girl," I hissed, as we followed Reed inside.

There were a few people in line ahead of us, probably on their way to the office. I thought of Mix meeting Paulette at a Starbucks like a normal person. The idea made me smile.

"You look chipper today," Reed said, noticing my expression. "Did you get up on the right side of the bed for a change?"

"I'll have a double espresso," I said, ignoring his remark.

"I thought you didn't drink coffee," he said. "Are you sure you want to go whole hog?"

"Go big or go home," I replied.

"A cinnamon chai latte for me," Farah said.

Reed looked at her. "I pegged you as more of a mocha with whip."

"Oh, whip is a must." She bumped him with her hip.

"Okaaay," I said. "We'll be at a table in the back."

I steered Farah out of the line and away from the object of her desire.

"Get a grip," I told her. "He's a Naphil, remember? And way up the Protectorate food chain in this colony. I don't think they're allowed to have sex." I didn't know this for a fact, but I'd crossed paths with more than a few Nephilim in my line of work, and they all seemed to live like monks. Not that I was much better. I hadn't been involved with anyone since Flynn, but only because I was focused on my career. My job as an agent didn't allow for close relationships.

We sat down at a table in the corner of the room, away from the other patrons.

"Too bad," Farah said. "From the way those women are ogling him, he could be having a lot of sex."

I followed her gaze to a trio of women in suits and heels. They were all vying for Reed's attention, but he didn't notice them. He was too busy staring at the menu board, weighing his choices. I had to agree with Farah. It seemed like a waste.

"Keep your mind clear when he joins us," I warned. "No pornographic thoughts. Remember, he's telepathic. I know it's not your strong suit, but try to hold your tongue during our little chat."

"I'd like him to hold my tongue between his..."

I cut her off as Reed approached. "No drinks?" I asked.

"The girl said she'd bring them over," he said. "She was very accommodating."

I'll bet
.

"So what inspired this meet and greet?" I asked. "My unfortunate timing with corpses?"

He settled back in his chair and debated his words. "I did a little research on you."

"Oh?"

"Your people seemed very surprised to hear you were in town."

Uh oh. "My people?"
Don't say Marida. Don't say Marida
.

"The Marida court."

Damn
. "Do you regularly contact members of the court?"

"I'm friendly with Prince Simdan."

No one was friendly with Prince Simdan. Everyone with a brain agreed he was a grade A jackass.

"And what did he say when you told him?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral. I didn't want to give anything away.

"He seemed eager to see you," Reed said.

"Fat chance," Farah snorted.

One of the girls from behind the counter appeared with three coffees. Reed thanked her and took them from the tray.

"Aren't you obligated to check in with your court?" Reed asked.

"I'm sure you'd think that with your deep love of rules and regulations," I said.

"It isn't a love," he replied. "It's a healthy respect."

"If you say so." I took a sip of my drink and winced. The heat scorched my tongue. That would teach me not to blow on it first.

I glanced over at Farah who had already managed to get foam on the tip of her nose. She licked it off seductively, but Reed failed to notice. He was too busy studying me, looking for signs of guilt, no doubt.

"Well, I did a little research on the Nephilim," I lied.

He leaned back in his chair and eyed me expectantly. "And what did you learn?"

"Nothing I didn't already know. The Nephilim are a bunch of self-righteous hermits who only come out of the woodwork when it's demanded by their positions as the self-appointed protectors of humans."

"Gee, Miss Winters, don't hold back," Reed said. "Tell me how you really feel about my kind."

I was unapologetic, which was pretty stupid under the circumstances. I had to work on that.

"You're a mix of angels with an inferiority complex and humans with a superiority complex."

He scratched his chin. "You spend too much time on Wikipedia."

"Anyone who chooses to live a monk-like existence has to be battling some serious personal demons," I told him. "Like on a daily basis."

"Monk-like?" he queried.

"You know." I leaned over and whispered. "No sex."

He gave me a cryptic smile in response.

At the mention of sex, Farah's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what are we talking about?"

"We're talking about the reason your friend is wearing copper bands."

Damn, he was smooth.

He turned his attention back to me. "You were saying?"

"Can't you read my mind and figure it out?" I asked.

"Because I'd much rather have a conversation with you than invade your thoughts. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Didn't stop you before."

"I'm aiming to do better," he said.

That made two of us.

"Seems that someone in my agency saw fit to put me on the naughty step."

"That's her way of saying she's been fired," Farah said. "Scorched earth-style."

"And before you ask, I don't know who gave the order and I don't know why," I said. There was no reason not to come clean, especially because I intended to ask for his help. Well, that was when I thought I could offer my assistance. Now my assistance seemed to mean convincing him that I wasn't the murderer.

"So she's helping O'Leary find a stolen heirloom to make some money," Farah offered. "The Shadow Elite shut down all her accounts. She needs money pronto."

I kicked Farah under the table.

"Ouch," Reed said.

Okay, I meant to kick Farah under the table.

"So you're working for Jimmy O'Leary?" he queried. "Is that why you wanted to meet with him? For work?"

I groaned. "Don't get your tighty whities in a wedgie. I'm not joining the mob. I'm doing a simple side job for him. It's a family heirloom with sentimental value." No need to mention that it was also a weapon.

"What kind of weapon?" he asked.

"Hey," I yelled. "That's cheating. You said you wouldn't do that." So much for Protectorate honor.

"Sorry," he said, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. "It was an accident."

"Kinda like me and crime scenes," I said archly.

Farah leaned forward, putting her impressive cleavage on full display. "So can you hear what all the women in this coffee shop are thinking about you?"

"What makes you sure they're thinking about me?" he asked.

She glanced at the other patrons. "Well, half of them are staring at you with dreamy eyes and the other half are shooting daggers at Alyse and me."

She was right -- they were.

"I don't tend to eavesdrop on random people's thoughts," Reed said. "It's unethical."

"And don't you forget it," I replied.

"So what kind of weapon?" he prompted.

Damn. I thought the conversation had veered away from that particular topic. "A scian."

"Forged from cold iron and copper," Farah added. This time I made sure to kick
her
.

Reed tapped his fingers on the table. "Well, that's interesting."

"No, it's really not," Farah said. "I have a whole armory of them."

I palmed my face. "Are you trying to become a suspect, Farah?"

"That depends," she said, batting her eyes at Reed. "Would that mean we get to spend more time together?"

"Do you have any leads?" he asked me, ignoring Farah's blatant flirtation.

"Not on the weapon, but I did have a chat with someone about the murders, if you're interested. He heard that organ harvesters are behind the killings."

"I've had similar thoughts," he admitted. "There are rogue traders that invade the colony on occasion. Usually the crime syndicate takes care of the problem, though."

"You rely on the mob to get rid of the other criminals?" I asked.

"When it makes sense to do so." He appeared unconcerned. "They have a habit of aggressively protecting their turf. When it suits us, we let them."

"What about the mob? Could this be one of their guys going rogue?"

"I have Protectors looking into it," Reed said. "The identity of their organ trader seems to be a bit of a mystery, though. No one's willing to talk."

That sounded like someone worth investigating.

"So what's the point of this little get-together?" I asked, cutting to the chase. "If you're not careful, I might think you're overly fond of me, Captain Reed."

"I wanted to see whether you know more about the murders than you claim."

"So what's the verdict?" I asked, leaning forward. "Am I a suspect or not?"

"I'm not sure, but I do know you have drips of coffee on your chin."

I glanced at Farah who nodded. I blotted my chin with a napkin. "Well, this has been fun, but I need to get to work."