Shady Lady

Charming to sweep me off my feet. Deep down, I always hoped for perfection to balance the terrible decisions I’d made when I was younger. But the best I could hope for was a man who offered a reasonable fit, one who cared. Jesse did. It wasn’t contingent on my gift, what I did for him, or even how I looked.

“I’m glad to see you too,” I managed to say.

“I feel like I’ve gone blind,” he said softly. “I don’t know whether you want me to kiss you or let you go.”

Part of me still mourned what I’d lost in the jungle, while the rest of me accepted the impossibility of it. I had to stop myself from wanting what I couldn’t have. I wondered if that made Jesse “good enough”? Somebody I could have without wishing for the moon. Maybe that was all anyone could hope.

“Maybe you’d better wait to hear what I have to say before we start kissing.” You may not want to afterward, went unspoken but he got the message and stepped back.

As if they had been waiting for the cue—and they probably had been—Chuch, Eva, and Shannon came back into the living room. Chuch settled in his armchair, and the sight hurt, because in my mind’s eye I saw Kel there, watching TV Azteca and petting Butch. I hadn’t known him at all then.

Once everyone settled, I summarized my situation. I expected the outcry that followed. To my shock, Shannon and Eva were most vociferous in telling me why I couldn’t use myself as bait. Chuch shared Escobar’s opinion that it was the most efficient way to draw Montoya out. Jesse sat silent with his jaw clenched.

“I’m having my mother’s grimoires sent here,” I went on. “For obvious reasons, I can’t stay until I put some proper wards on the place.”

Eva raised a brow. “I thought they didn’t work for you.”

“They didn’t before. They might now.” I didn’t elaborate. “I’ve probably been here too long as it is. I’m putting too much faith in Escobar’s amulet, when I really don’t know the man. He might think nothing of having a shoot-out here—without warning me first. Which means I need to keep moving.” I turned to Shannon. “Could you run me over to—”

“Get your bag. And your dog.” Jesse pushed to his feet. “As I’m sure you understand, Corine and I have things to discuss. I’ll take her home with me tonight.”

I’d never heard that tone before; he was worrying me a little. He seemed like an easygoing guy, but like most, he had limits. It appeared I’d found them.

“Will you be okay?” I asked Shannon.

She grinned at me. “I should be asking you that. But yeah, I’m fine.”

While Shannon gathered up Butch’s food and water dish, along with enough kibble to last a couple of days, I grabbed my suitcase. Jesse’s bitter chocolate eyes narrowed as he watched me, and then with a muttered farewell, he towed me by hand out to the Forester. He bodily boosted me inside and then peeled out of Chuch’s driveway in a squeal of tires.

We drove at least halfway back to town in seething silence before he spoke through gritted teeth. “You’re working for Ramiro Escobar.”

So maybe I wouldn’t put it like that, but in essence, yes.

“Who else was I gonna call, Ghostbusters?”

He didn’t take the sarcasm well. “Christ almighty, Corine, bad as Montoya is, Escobar is worse, because he’s not crazy. If he decides to have someone killed, he’s weighed the P and L of it. Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

Of course it did. But he didn’t have the right to judge me. “You can never understand,” I said softly. “Your history makes you strong and centered and certain you’re always on the side of right.”

“Not always. But I damn well know you don’t dine with the devil to kill a demon.” He slammed his fist against the dash. “Vigilante justice is against the law. I crossed the line once. Since it happened in Mexico, I tell myself it doesn’t count, but it does, and anything else is self-deception. How many times are you going to ask me to look the other way? When you know where Montoya will be, let the law handle him. I can contact federal agents who would love to lock him up.”

“You think that will stop it? Even if Montoya’s lawyers didn’t get him out on a loophole, he could still send people after me from prison. You know that. This only ends Wild West style—him or me.”

A fulminating silence followed my words, and it lasted until he slammed his car into the parking lot where he presumably lived. I’d been to Laredo twice, and Jesse had always just picked me up at Chuch and Eva’s, or we met somewhere else. Which meant I’d never seen his home.

He lived in a three-story brick building. It wasn’t part of a complex, but there was a small lot attached with a security camera on a light pole. I put Butch down in case our fighting had given him a nervous bladder; it had. Jesse let himself in the front door with a key, and jogged up two flights. It was a testament to his anger that he let me carry my own suitcase. I went up with less alacrity. I had a feeling the scrap wasn’t over; this was just the intermission.

His apartment was different than I expected; probably I could credit his mother for the décor. The place was a homey jumble of plaids and stripes that harmonized because of the colors. White walls, of course—it was a rental—but everything else had red and yellow running through the pattern. Overstuffed furniture with throw pillows added real warmth. The place had one bedroom, living and dining combo room, kitchen, and bath. Not much to see, but it was cute and clean. I should’ve guessed as much from his uncluttered desk at work.

Jesse disappeared into the bedroom. Once I set my bag down, Butch hopped out and went around sniffing. If there was anything out of the ordinary here, he’d find it. The little dog had an uncanny ability to scent supernatural skullduggery.

I put my flowered bag down and dropped onto the couch. Likely I’d be sleeping here, so good thing the fabric felt soft and smooth beneath my fingertips. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes. If it wasn’t for the fact that if something went wrong, Jesse could have Laredo SWAT here in a few minutes, I wouldn’t be here. Chuch and Eva would not be caught in the cross fire this time.

A few minutes later, Butch pawed at my leg. I bent down and picked him up. He snuggled into my lap with complete confidence, which told me the place was secure for now. It drove me nuts worrying about Montoya’s resources, whether he knew about Chuch and Eva, if Shannon was safe with them. I fought the urge to call, like an overprotective parent, and toyed with the charm around my neck instead.

When Jesse emerged a bit later, his hair was damp. He must’ve taken a shower to cool off. I almost smiled at that. He propped himself against the wall just inside the living room.

“Is it always going to be like this with you?”

“What?” But I knew what he meant.

“Is it always going to come down to a choice between upholding the law and protecting you?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “But it might. I’m not Heather.” I named a pyro ex of his who had gone to prison for arson. “But I’m not the girl your mother always wanted you to bring home either.”

He exhaled in an unsteady rush. “There’s something I never told you about Heather.”

“And that is?”

“I’m the one who put her away.”

Ah, damn. I understood his raw reaction to my working outside the law. He’d been forced to make this choice before. Any other time, I might’ve made some joke about how bad girls proved irresistible to him. But his obvious torment made me feel tender and protective toward him. Sure, he had a white- knight complex a mile wide; he always wanted to save the damsel in distress, but I’d discovered I preferred slaying my own dragons. If he couldn’t accept that, then our relationship would be stillborn, even if he offered the best chance at a normal life.

“Look, in the usual course, don’t worry about me breaking the law. I wouldn’t have chosen Escobar as my partner, but I don’t want to die either.” I sat forward, elbows on my knees. “That’s the one thing you need to know about me. I’m a survivor, and I’ll do whatever it takes.”

In fact, it was worse than he knew. If I died, I went straight to hell, because I had a demon debt weighing on my soul. Back in Kilmer, I’d been fatally stabbed, and the demon saved my life by using the murderer’s knife to plug the wound. Oh, I could’ve objected, but if I had, I would’ve expired on the spot. If I failed to satisfy the compact, both my life and soul were forfeit. Nervously, my fingers went to the metal in my side. Not repaying Maury before eternity punched my card . . . well. It didn’t bear consideration. I’d gotten a glimpse of the place when Caim crawled back home, and I had no interest in making a personal visit. So I had to stay alive, no matter what it took, until Maury called his marker due.