Mysteria Nights

Forcing a smile, Shay hoisted little Damon higher on her hip. “Let’s play while your mama and papa finish their ice cream.” She remembered to look both ways before crossing the street—pretending to be mortal required so many little details—and headed toward the park.

The babe brought a warm sticky hand to her cheek, holding her gaze in a direct, quite disconcerting way, much like his mother. “Shay good.”

A low laugh escaped her. “I wouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“Good Shay,” he insisted.

Wincing, Shay took the babe’s hand, holding it in hers as she lowered it. She wasn’t good. Not at all. She was a monster of the worst kind. Soon, very soon, the babe would learn the truth about her.

“Hey, Laredo, what do you think of the Faithfull’s new nanny and Mysteria’s newest citizen, Shay d’Mon?”

Quel almost choked on the cup of coffee he was about to gulp. “What?”

Jeanie, the sheriff, slid onto a stool next to him in the coffee shop. “Yup, our little fountain splasher. Hired. Yesterday. I’ll take the special, Elvira,” she called to the waitress.

Quel drained his coffee cup and rammed it down to the counter. He grabbed his hat and coat, grumbling, “See you, Sheriff.”

“Where you going?”

“To talk some sense into those folks.”

“Harmony and Damon? They know what they’re doing.”

He snorted. “Doesn’t much sound like it. Look, you hired me to look after the people here, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

“I appreciate that, Laredo. You know I do. But her background check came back clean.”

“As clean as an unemployed, midwestern schoolteacher who crashes sports cars willed to them by their deceased parents can be, I guess.” If Shay had relayed that information with her own lips, Quel would have laughed it off as lies. But the woman didn’t have to say a thing. Jeanie had found it all using the info from Shay’s license and registration. “A sweet smile or two, a pure-as-driven-snow background as a kindergarten teacher, and she goes and gets herself hired as their nanny? Do they have any idea who—or what—she might be?”

“Like you just said, a small-town teacher with a spotless record. Not even a traffic ticket. Well, before last Tuesday.”

“You gave her a ticket? Well. There’s justice in this town, after all.”

“Shay owes me community service in lieu of a fine.”

“Let me guess—at the car wash.” Quel threw the tip on the counter and headed for the exit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m paying the Faithfulls a visit.”

“Or maybe it’s just an excuse to say hello to Miss d’Mon. There’s more than a little electricity going back and forth between you two. I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”

Quel stopped short, his back aimed at the sheriff. Electricity? He removed a toothpick from his pocket and slipped it between his lips. “The only thing going back and forth is my investigation and Miss d’Mon not liking it.”

Then he pushed out the swinging door into the sunshine, scowling as he did so. Since when had he become such a rotten liar?

In the cottage that Reverend Faithfull shared with her husband Damon, Quel stalked past a kitchen table topped with brownies and milk. His boots scuffed over the hardwood floor. His silver-bullet-loaded revolver rubbed against his hip. “Reverend Faithfull—”

“Harmony,” she corrected with her usual bright smile.

“Harmony. Jeanie tells me you’re thinking of hiring Miss d’Mon as your new nanny.”

“We already did.”

“Because you think she has a good soul,” he said, skeptical about the minister’s purported talent as a seer that the entire town took for granted—except him. “How do you know for sure?”

“It’s my job to know.” The reverend wore her pastor’s face that tried to get him to feel guilty about never setting foot in her church. Thing was, he had more things to blame God for than to thank him for. Since church was for praying and thanking, and not blaming, he never showed. The way he saw it, he killed demons for the Big Man. That should be enough. “And,” she said, blushing, “I can see things other people can’t, Mr. Laredo, just like you can sense demons. Shay has a good soul. I saw it. I felt it.”

“It’s a demon trick. That’s what they do. Your guard goes down, and they get you. Or, in this case, your kid.”

Her husband spoke up. “Demons can do many things, aye, but they can’t replicate a mortal soul.” Damon was a former demon high lord. If anyone knew about demons, it was this man.

“All I know is that I never sensed anything that powerful. Whatever came down that mountain was old as shit. I had one thing on my mind: get it out of the car and kill it before it killed any of us.”

Harmony lifted a brow. “Glad you took a moment to access the situation.”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t. By the time I got to the wreck, it didn’t smell like demon anymore. It didn’t smell like anything I’ve ever come across, either.” Not exactly demon, not exactly human.

But 100 percent woman. A damned sexy woman, too, with all the right curves and attitude to spare. He couldn’t stop thinking about how the hell stench had morphed into a hot little thing with an innocence about her that didn’t fit the heat in her eyes. His senses blasted on high alert whenever their eyes met. No one had ever looked at him with that much hunger, that much longing. Even if she did admit she’d mixed him up with someone else, it was damn unnerving. Damn arousing. Laredo, focus. You gotta think with your head not your cock. Hell and damn. Since when did he ever have trouble keeping the two apart? It was all jumbled up. He was all jumbled up.

“Shay has no defenses, Quel, none,” Harmony assured him, clearly trying to sway his opinion. “I can see right through her. There’s goodness there. She’s also conflicted, lonely. Afraid.”

He remembered Shay’s tears. Yeah, they’d looked pretty frickin’ genuine. Damn lucky he came to his senses before he wiped them off her cheek with his knuckle like he wanted to. He frowned. Quel Laredo didn’t wipe away tears. He didn’t know how. Yet she had him wanting to learn. She’d gotten under his skin, skin so thick he’d long since assumed it was impenetrable. Maybe Shay was an angel, and he was all wrong. Maybe he’d been around the wrong kind of woman for so long he didn’t know how to recognize the right kind.

Quel glanced out the kitchen window and into the backyard where the couple had told him Shay was spending time with the boy. Standing by the pond near the barn, she held the child in her arms, handing him bread crusts to throw to the ducks. The breeze lifted and tossed her curls around her neck and jaw. Suddenly, she looked sweet and vulnerable, like a young mother. Was this the monster he thought he’d find in the sports car? A woman with the face of an angel, the shirt of an angel, and the devil in her eyes. Damon and Harmony trusted her. Was he wrong not to?

Exhaling, Quel tiredly rubbed his face. He hadn’t shaved. He’d hardly slept. “I know what I sensed that night, Damon. As clear as day I know. My gut’s telling me whatever came down that hill didn’t up and disappear. Yeah, maybe it’s not Shay, maybe it’s not in Mysteria at all, but I won’t ignore my instincts. I did, once, and half my convoy got taken out in Iraq. Now I pay attention. I’m not letting down my guard. I advise you don’t, either.”

“I trust my wife’s instincts. I’ll take yours into account, as well.” Quel nodded. His attention drifted outside again, where Shay hugged the boy close as if he were her own. Quel had a fleeting memory of being hugged by his mother in the early years before she left. After that he adopted such a fierce outside shell that few risked reaching out. He never made it worth their while. Though if they’d tried a little harder, tried more than once, he might have let them in. No one ever did. He didn’t need cowards in his life then or now. He’d raised himself and was proud of it. Yet he had to wonder what he’d missed with the absence of any softness in his life.

With the child in her arms, Shay disappeared behind the barn. A chill washed over him. It was as if the sun had gone behind a cloud. He made fists, trying to resist the urge to follow—to chase down the sun. Impossible, he realized, and grabbed for an excuse to see her again. To see the pining in her eyes again. Hey, so he was being soft. So what? Sue him. If he liked the way a woman looked at him, no one needed to know. “Now that she’s going to be staying here, I’d better go and reintroduce myself.”