Roxie sat at her computer, her back to thedoorway that led from the employee area up to the reception desk.When Matt came up behind her, she didn’t even bother to turnaround. “Go away,” she barked.
“Happy Valentine’s to you, too,” Mattteased.
Roxie whirled around and glared at him. Herdyed black hair was pulled up into ponytails on either side of herhead and then rolled into buns. Because the ends of her hair were abright, fire engine red, the balls didn’t really appear to be partof her hair. They looked like large colorful pompoms, or something.She called it her Princess Leia look, though to Matt, she didn’tresemble a Star Wars character so much as an old-fashioned alarmclock, the kind with two bells on the top and a little hammer inbetween. But the first time he’d told her that, she kicked out oneheavy Doc Marten boot and almost cracked his shin.
Now Matt didn’t comment on her hair, or herall-black getup—tight leggings under a lacy skirt that looked morelike lingerie than something to wear to work, topped by a flouncyshirt buttoned up all the way to her chin. The only spot of coloron her ensemble was a bone cameo she wore as a brooch at her neck.When Matt had gotten a closer look at it earlier, though, he’d seenit wasn’t a real cameo. At least, he hoped not. The woman itdepicted was a skeleton with an up-do.
He also didn’t comment on her makeup. Roxieliked things…well, a little strange. And today was no different.She had some sort of temporary tattoos etched onto her eyelids,from lash to brow, that matched the black lace of her skirt. Hereyes were rimmed with her usual thick black eyeliner, but herlashes were fake, tipped on the outside edge with what looked liketufts of feathers the same shade as her brooch.
Matt had taken one look at her earlier thatmorning and, because he didn’t know what exactly to say about herappearance, he’d wisely kept his shut.
Now he leaned back against her desk andnudged her chair with one foot. “Guess who just pulled up outsidewith a bouquet of flowers for yours truly?”
“Your better half,” Roxie snarled. Shetwisted her chair to knock his foot loose. “Let me guess—you usedyour voodoo powers to communicate with him out in the parkinglot.”
Matt leaned forward and lowered his voice toa whisper. “It’s called telepathy, and it’s supposed to be asecret.”
He had told Roxie about Vic’s powers oncewhen his lover had rescued the two of them from a trapped elevator.It had taken everything Matt had to confide about the powers insomeone other than Vic. He’d been used before by people interestedin harnessing the abilities for themselves. Roxie was one of anelite minority who knew about them; Matt could count the others onone hand.
The problem was, she refused to believe him.No matter how much he tried to convince her, she thought it was allsome sort of elaborate joke he and Vic had cooked up at herexpense. Roxie wasn’t exactly the gullible type, but even when Mattconvinced Vic to talk directly into her mind, she said it washokum. Recently, she’d taken to making fun of it, teasing Matt ifhe brought them up.
Now she smirked and said, “It’s called a cellphone. He called you and you came running up here before he gotthrough the door to try and pretend you ‘heard’ him arrive.”
Even though he knew it was futile, Matt triedto explain, “He didn’t call my cell—”
“No, he spoke directly into your head,” Roxieinterrupted. “You know what that’s called? Crazy.”
“Shut up.”
Sometimes it was easier not to fightback—Roxie had an answer for everything, and only now, afterseveral years, did Matt start to realize he’d never win againsther. She wouldn’t let him. It didn’t matter anyway, not when hecaught sight of a large bouquet of deep red roses outside the frontglass doors on the other side of Roxie’s desk. As the doors slidopen, Matt grinned. “I’d like to see you throw thoseaway.”
Roxie hmrphed but didn’t respond. Ifanything could quiet her, it was Vic. He wore a heavy coat with ahood pulled up over his bald head and a scarf wrapped around histhick neck. As soon as he was inside the gym, he pushed off thehood and loosened the scarf. Around the dozen beautiful roses inhis hand, he smiled at Matt. “Happy V-Day, sexy.”
Matt opened his mouth but before he couldanswer, Roxie said, “Thanks, Vic. But next time, don’t call me sexyin front of your boyfriend.”
The shove Matt gave the back of her chairpushed her away from her computer. “Hey!” she cried.
“Hands off, Scary Spice,” Matt warned as Vicset the flowers on the counter above Roxie’s desk. Leaning over,Matt puckered up for a kiss. “This one’s mine.”
Vic’s lips were cold and slightly chappedfrom the weather, which had turned more seasonal over the past fewdays. Maybe the reports were right, and they would get somesnow on the weekend. For the moment, Matt concentrated on warmingVic’s mouth with his own, and the taste of his lover’s tongue wasonly a hint of what would come later that evening.
When he opened his eyes and stepped back, heturned his attention to the roses. “God, they’re beautiful,” hesaid with a sigh.
::Only the best for my man,:: Vicsaid, speaking telepathically. He was usually a reserved, quietman, which helped enhance his gruff demeanor, but Roxie intimidatedhim. That was saying something, really. A big, strong man like Vicscared of a young woman like Roxie?
Then again, Matt thought as he admired theroses, she was pretty scary.
The roses were mostly closed, which meantthey would last a while. They were a deep garnet color, and simplybeautiful. But as he turned the vase around, he noticed Vic stillheld one flower. It was the same shape as Matt’s roses, but itlooked burned, or decayed.
Quickly Matt counted his flowers. Twelve,just as he’d requested. Nodding at the rose in Vic’s hand, heasked, “What’s that one for?”
Vic shrugged and held it out—not to Matt, butpast him to Roxie. “Saw it and thought you’d like it,” hemuttered.
For a moment, Roxie didn’t look up from herscreen. Then she must have seen the rose from the
