Cursed

words and assurances, we weren’t careful enough. We weren’t honest enough. Not with each other. Not even with ourselves. Last night was supposed to be about one thing—sex.

Instead . . .

I stumble, the back of my knees hitting the edge of the tub and my legs collapsing beneath me. I sit, close my eyes, focus on my breathing, on the cool marble beneath my feet, on what needs to be done. I’ve practiced this exercise with Liz hundreds of times, just like with her grandmother before her, with other witches over time. It’s only when there are leaks that the glamour erodes. My power is escaping. I can hear their collective voices. If you aren’t doing it on purpose, there’s a crack in the armor. Find it. Fix it.

I can do this. I have to. If Demeter so much as senses what I’m, what Zack is feeling . . .

If Zack should walk in and see me, the real me . . .

It can’t happen.

I blow out a breath and struggle to stay calm. I talk myself through, step by step. Check the walls. Bring them down, one by one. Concentrate. Pull the power in. Raise the wall back up.

At last, I open my eyes, stifle a sob.

Nothing has changed.

The face staring back at me is still Ligea’s, and unless I take control of my feelings, deny Zack, I can’t protect him.

I close my eyes. Push everything that happened last night to the back of my mind. Remind myself who and what Zack is—a werewolf. More important, my partner. This job is the only chance I have to win my freedom. He can’t stand in my way. Anyone who does risks the unimaginable. Thinking we could have sex with no consequences was a foolish mistake because I can’t control the way Zack feels about me. I have to control the way I feel about him. I have to.

Concentrate, Emma. Accept the truth. You have no future with Zack. I close my eyes and patiently work through the steps again.

The change starts slowly. I feel it in the core of my being, feel myself disappearing. I open my eyes and watch the beauty fade. Faint lines appear around my eyes and mouth, my skin dulls, my hair loses its bounce.

Another sob escapes my lips. This time because it worked.

My human persona is back.

I open the bathroom door a sliver and peek out. Zack is still sound asleep. The mere fact that I want to keep him safe proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s in very serious danger. At some point during the night I slipped. I let down my guard. It can’t happen again. I need to have Liz check the spell, make sure there are no other leaks.

I head for the shower. Eye on the ball, Emma. You have a job to do. You have people counting on you. Liz is counting on you.

I just need to take this one step at a time. Concentrate. I’ll make a quick stop at the vegan bakery Liz frequents on the way over to Evan’s and pick up some of those almond coconut buns she likes. If I know Liz, and I do, she’ll have a pot of coffee ready, but she won’t have eaten. There are three vampires missing, including Evan. It’s time to go to work.

Redemption could be one rescue away.

CHAPTER 17

I park in Evan’s guest spot, but I don’t get out of the car. Not right away. I keep checking my reflection in the rearview mirror. If I wasn’t scrupulous enough in pulling back the power, Liz will see it the instant she sees me. So far, the glamour seems firmly in place. The plain Jane facade I show to the world is once again on display. And since no news from Demeter is good news, maybe my transgression went unnoticed.

I was lucky this time. But I can’t let myself think about Zack or our lovemaking or how his skin felt against mine or—

Shit. I bang my hand against the steering wheel. Pain jolts up my arm.

Double shit.

Stop it. Liz needs you.

I get out of the car and head in. Liz does her thing and pulls open the door before I have a chance to knock. I hold my breath. Is she going to say something about the fact that I’m still dressed in her gown?

Normally she’d never let something like that go. This morning, she’s too preoccupied and bleary-eyed to notice. Liz takes my hand and pulls me inside. She’s wearing the same clothes she had on the afternoon before, too.

I toss the pastry bag on the coffee table. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

She sinks onto the couch, buries her face in her hands. “I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t think.”

“I should have stayed here with you last night.” Maybe if I had . . .

She shakes her head, then drops her hands and looks up at me. “No, you had to go. You might have learned something. But you didn’t. Did you? If you had—”

I take both her hands in mine and sit next to her. “I’m sorry. We’re still following leads, but we don’t have anything definitive. I think it’s time you call the police.”

“But you and Zack will keep working on the case, too, won’t you? You’re not giving up? Please, tell me you’re not giving up!”

“Of course we won’t give up. I would never give up on someone so important to you. It’s just that the more people we have out looking for Evan, the better.” I reach for the bag and heft it in the palm of my hand. “Come on. Let’s have some breakfast.”

Liz reluctantly gets to her feet and I follow her to the kitchen. Her shoulders sag with weariness and worry. She’s exhausted both mentally and physically. I suppress the impulse to tell her about the other missing vampires. I can’t see that doing anything but adding to her misery. If we haven’t been able to find Amy and Isabella, it won’t be much consolation that Evan now makes three.

Liz goes through the motions of putting on a fresh pot of coffee as if working on autopilot. I take a dish from the pantry and lay out the pastries. The silence in the condo is like a third presence—oppressive, overwhelming. It’s not until we’re seated at the breakfast bar, cups in front of us, that Liz breaks it.

“What are his chances, Emma?”

She’s picking at one of the pastries, pulling it into small pieces, none of which make it to her mouth. She swivels to face me. “Don’t the police say that if a missing person isn’t found in forty-eight hours, odds are that he won’t be found at all?”

“You’ve been watching too much Law & Order,” I reply, keeping my tone light. “They have to say that on television because they only have an hour to tell a story. There are no hard and fast rules. We will find Evan. We’ll bring him home. Zack and I will make sure of it.”

For the first time since I walked in the door, Liz’s expression shifts from worry to surprise. She’s looking at me.

Really looking at me. “Something’s wrong. Emma, what are you doing?”

My stomach clenches. “I’m doing everything I can to find Evan. I promise you.”

She waves the words away with the back of a hand. “That isn’t what I meant and you know it. Why are you still dressed in that gown? You didn’t go home last night?” Her eyes bore into mine. “But you’ve showered. No makeup. Your hair is still damp.”

She stops, waiting for me to say something. What can I say?

When I turn my eyes away, she grabs my hand. “You and Zack? Tell me you haven’t let it go too far.”

Before I can think of a way to answer, she does it for me. “You’re falling for him. I can see it. You’re struggling to contain the glamour. He saw you. You let him see the real you, didn’t you? That’s why I didn’t hear from you last night.”

It’s as if she has a laser beamed into my head. “I was with him last night, yes. But I didn’t let him see me. I’m not even sure he did.”

“You didn’t let him? You’re not sure?” Liz throws up her hands. “Are we going to quibble over semantics?