Juliana’s patience with her invalid status lasted almost as long as the daylight. Jeremiah’s patience with her ended long before that. The sun had just neared the horizon when she called for the last time.
“Juliana,” he said with a growl before she had a chance to say anything, “if there is anything to report, anything at all you need to know, I will call you.”
She sighed. “Sorry. I hate being out of commission.”
He laughed. “Everyone hates it when you can’t work. Trust me.” With that pronouncement he hung up. She should have been offended, but he was right. She made a nuisance of herself to everyone around her when she was on leave. Nothing made her feel more useless.
She paced the floor as night fell. There had to be something she could do. She’d tried to call Michael several times throughout the day only to have the call kick straight to voicemail. And she knew damn well he wasn’t sleeping. Despite Altereds’ preference for the dark, with very few exceptions, they weren’t limited to it. Not even the vampires. Michael in particular preferred to stalk the day. He was avoiding her. She’d let him for now.
James was a dead end as well. Though he had nothing to report on the book yet, he assured her some of his best mages were working on the problem. She knew better than to try to rush anything having to do with magic or the Gathering. They both took their own sweet time.
A knock sounded at her door and reverberated through the silence of her house. A glance through the peephole revealed Simon and Seamus Grace standing under her front porch light. Thank the gods, someone had come to save her from her own special blend of insanity. She swung open the door, looking between the two of them for explanation.
“Dad sent us to baby-sit,” Seamus said with a grin.
“And to keep you away from the phone,” Simon added.
“I should be irritated but I’m going stir-crazy,” she told them. “Get your asses in here.”
“We thought we’d head over to the Den. Get you drunk. Take advantage of you,” Seamus said as they stepped past her into the living room.
Simon smacked his brother on the back of the head. “Everything he said except for the taking advantage part. We’ll be on our best behavior.”
“Damn right, you will.” She headed into the office that housed her clothes closet. “Anna would geld you, sons or not.”
Thomas had spent the better part of an hour interrogating his staff about Juliana’s habits, what she did and who she did it with, but all of his questions had yielded little of any help. Whether it was an intentional unwillingness to share information about her or they really didn’t know, he had no idea. Mind reading was not one of his many abilities.
Of course, his bride should be the one exception, the one being he should be able to feel every nuance of emotion from and she continually denied him. Despite the wall she kept erected against his intrusion, he checked several times a day hoping she’d left a crack, an opening he could get through. He resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair in frustration. She pushed him to the edge of sanity, but he’d be banished to the bowels of the underworld before he’d let his underlings see it.
The door to the club opened and he looked up with a frown, knowing he’d locked it before he started talking to the employees. There she was, his irksome life mate. His fangs pressed against his gums as he took in the expanse of pale flesh not covered by her tight blue jeans and silver tank top. She’d always shattered his control, made him feel like a youngling just turned. Then his eyes went to her accessories. On each arm she had one of the matched set of troglodytes from the waiting room at the Agency.
He swallowed the growl that rose in his throat and clenched his teeth. He locked gazes with them, issuing a silent warning that the woman they were with was his. One of them understood, looked away with a slight nod. The other...well, the other was incredibly stupid or cared little for the longevity of his pathetic life. He not only didn’t drop his gaze, he smirked. Smirked as if he knew exactly how much Juliana touching his arm bothered Thomas and didn’t care. If Thomas didn’t know any better, he’d think he was being dared.
And there wasn’t a cursed thing he could do about it. Not now, not in front of her. She would never forgive him, and any progress he’d made since he returned would be lost. But she wouldn’t always be there. And with his resources Thomas could find anyone. It probably wouldn’t even be that hard. He gave into the smile that tugged his lips at the thought.
“Hello, everyone,” Juliana said to break the oppressive silence that descended when she stepped through the door of the Den, the twins in tow. She steered the boys across the floor, doing her best to ignore Thomas. He stood watching them, fury burning in his eyes. She squashed her initial impulse to drag her companions out the door and away from that fiery gaze. She’d tango with a troll before she let that man run her off. There was no way she’d give him the satisfaction.
Doing her best to ignore Thomas despite the weight of his gaze, she settled the twins at her favorite table and made her way to the DJ booth. Ricky grinned from ear to ear, his pointed teeth flashing. His aquamarine hair boasted purple tips this week. “Greetings, my favorite Walker.”
His normal greeting made her smile. She was the only Walker he knew. “How are you? It’s been a while,” she said.
“You haven’t been here in ages. I was starting to take it personal.”
She shrugged, but said nothing. He knew her absence on the weekends had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the crowds that swarmed to hear his set.
He eyed the group at the bar. “Don’t know that I like having the boss around. Other than that I can’t say you’ve missed much around here.” He studied her for a moment. “He made everyone come in early. All he’s done is interrogate us about you. I finally told him I had to get set up and ducked out.”
“And what exactly was it that Thomas Kendrick wanted to know about me?”
He pursed his lips. “You picked a good night to bring the twins, I’ll say that. He wanted a recitation of your habits, when you came in, what you drank. Who you drank it with.” His eyes watched her as he said the last.
Her jaw ached and she forced herself to unclench her teeth. So he asked about her. He’d been gone a long time, he was bound to be curious about her life. Of course, he could have asked her, but she supposed that would be too much trouble when he could pry the information out of his minions. “And what did everyone say?”
“The truth. That you came in when you felt like it, drank what you were in the mood for and drank it with whomever amused you most.”
Her laughter caught Thomas’s attention. Their eyes locked. After a moment she looked away and let her eyes run over him. She told herself it was anxiety that made her pulse race, her breath quicken. It was a lie. Thomas wore tight jeans with a black T-shirt. A sapphire-colored silk shirt hung open over the top of it. Amusement flashed through his eyes at her blatant appreciation. She shrugged and turned away. She never said he wasn’t pretty, she merely said she didn’t want him around.
Ricky’s lips twitched. “Maybe I should have told him you sit alone and pine for him every night over your scotch.”
“Very funny.” Pure panic shot through her at his words. If Thomas even suspected she missed him, she’d never get rid of him.
The bouncer unlocked the door to let in the crowd and Ricky smiled. “Showtime. Here, I’ll play the first one for you.”
“This is for our resident Walker,” he announced into the microphone. The familiar strains of a song about a wayward hunter blared from the system. She sashayed her way back to the table.
Seamus intercepted her when she went for a chair and pulled her into his lap. She giggled despite her efforts not to.
“The usual?” the waitress asked when she got to the table.
Juliana shook her head. “Simon here will have a rum and Coke, light on the rum. Seamus and I will have a very large pitcher of beer and a bottle of tequila. The good stuff. Salt and lime, please.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “I’ll put it on your tab.”
