Just enough for him to slowly, oh soslowly unwrap his arms. He got down on oneknee, right in front of me. No, I didn't think he was about topropose. The exact tension crumpling his brow and digging hard intohis jaw could not be associated with anything other than blazingindignation. “Your grandmother would have wanted me to protectyou. She… tried tosave me,” he said, an odd, hesitant pause between hiswords.
Despite the fact hewas still right there in front of me, and despite the fact my mindwas still battling the full effects of fear, I had just enoughreason left over to appreciate that hesitant pause meant something.Maybe the Scottish fairy had a heart in there, after all. A hearthe quickly hid away as he reached forward and locked a hand on thearmrest beside me.
He was right there – I mean right there.It wasn’t just that he wasclose enough to touch (or kiss, if you believed my suddenlytingling lips). Nope. It was that for the first time I was treated to an up-close lookof his face. The lines, the scars, the flecks in hisotherwise perfect eyes.
It distracted me as I opened my mouth.
He got there first. “I’ve explainedeverything now,” he controlled his tone, leaned back, smoothed anunaffected look over his face, and cleared his throat. “So now it’stime to get to work.”
It took me a long time to lock on to whathe’d said – my mind was far too distracted by the scars along hisjaw, down his neck, flecked across his thick eyebrows.
Then something clicked. “Ah,work?”
He nodded, returning to his defaultposition of crossing his arms over his chest. “Work.”
“Ah, I just moved here, I don’t have ajob,” I stumbled over mywords as I gestured ineffectively.
“Yes, you do. You got one thismorning.” Withoutanother word and without any attempt to explain that opaquestatement, he turned hard on his boot, retreated from the room, andpromptly returned.
He was back way before my mind could tell meto run.
He held a crumpled up piece of thincardboard in his hand. Standing over me and looming like a pissedoff storm cloud he held his hand out, the card still crumpled init.
I looked from his outstretched hand to hisface. It was obvious he wanted me to reach forward and accept thecard. I just stared at him.
So he, demonstrating just how rude he couldbe, leaned forward, plucked up my hand, and pushed something intoit.
I jerked my hand back from his large grip,and he made no attempt to stop me.
Then I saw what the crumpled up paper was.A card – Detective Dave Coulson’s card, to be exact.
I blanched.
Max just looked on with a steady expression. “Detective Coulsonneeds your help to solve a heinous crime. And you’re going to givehim your help.”
I shook my head, violently. “No. No,there’s no way.”
He simply nodded slowly. “Oh, there’severy way. Now get your coat.”
“Wait, what? You want to do this now?”
“No, love, we’re going to go tomorrowmorning – you need some time to adjust so you don’t scream atpassing police officers. I just thought you should get your coatbecause you look cold.”
I blinked, confused. “I….”
“Also, you should probably start readingthrough your grandma’s journals. It’ll help you get on your feet.And considering you can barely stand,” he shot me a judgmental look, “I think that’s inorder.”
I rested back into the couch. No, it waskind of more like I was a once-soufflé that was suddenlysagging.
All my fight left me in a great bigsigh.
Max watched me, and I was struck by the fact that I hadabsolutely no idea what he was thinking. Which was strange, as Iwas usually pretty good at reading people. Then again, Max wasn’t aperson, was he? Oh no, he was a fairy.
You know when you think you’veprocessed something, whenyou think you’re over some great shock? Yeah, well that was me upuntil now. Because suddenly it hit me again, right between theeyes.
Magic existed, and I was in a whole world oftrouble.
But there was something even worse, wayworse. Since a kid, I’d always lied my way out of trouble. But now,if I believed Max, that would kill me….
Chapter 4
Max was true to his word. He didn’t drag me out of the housefor the rest of that day. Nope, he let me relax (if you could callbeing under house arrest imposed by a fairy relaxing).
The next morning, though?
Oh, the next morning, he bundled me intothe car. Literally. When I tried to clutch hold of the front door,he simply plucked me up and carried me to his car. Somehow, therehadn’t been a soul on the street so no one to hear mescream.
Max drove in silence, ignoring my protestations as if my voicewas nothing more than white noise.
“It's not going to happen. Listen to me:it's not going to happen. I'm not a real clairvoyant. I’m africking fake. And I'm okay with that. But there is no way I'mgonna go to the police station and help investigate amurder.” My voicecracked on the word murder. Oh boy, did it crack. It shook so badly it could have rattled my throat topieces.
Max did that thing manly men do whenever they're driving. Hedidn't turn to look at me despite the fact I was right there besidehim. He tilted his head at an angle andlooked at me out of the corner of his eye, instead. I could haveballed up a hand and punched him. And I would have if I weren't so incapacitated by the idea of what would bewaiting for me at the police station.
Last night, I’d managed to come to termswith what was happening to me. Almost. Grandma’s journals had helped a little. Theycorroborated what Max had already told me, confirming everythingfrom the mendacious Mary McLane to the fact I now had to use myso-called abilities for good or I’d paythe price.
Still, there was no way I was going to helpinvestigate a murder.
“I can’t do this!” I whined once more.
“You can, and you will,” he said, that rich brogue of his bottomingout on the word will.
Now, I’ll admit I’ve known plenty of menin my time. But I have never, ever come across somebody who
