Industrial Magic Page 104


“Depends on the lover. You can be almost scarily self-confident, Cortez. I like being the only one who gets to peek through the chinks in the armor. If you’re still worried, though, I do know a good temporary cure.”

A crooked grin. “Distraction?”

“Um-hmmm.” I slid my hands under the blanket.

“Wait,” he said. “I still owe you for the broom closet, and believe I can be adequately distracted by reciprocating that favor.”

I grinned. “You never owe me. But I won’t argue if you insist.”

“I do.”

As he shifted forward to kiss me, a seat squeaked…only it didn’t sound like the seat we were lying on. I lifted my head to see Benicio tiptoeing for the cabin door. Lucas bolted upright and swore.

Benicio stopped, his back still to us. “My apologies. I came by for an update. I was waiting for you to wake up.”

“We’ve been awake, quite obviously awake, for a few minutes,” Lucas said.

“Yes, well…”

“You couldn’t resist eavesdropping on a private conversation,” Lucas said. “Until it threatened to become too private.”

“I—”

“We’re dressed,” I said. “You might as well come in and say your piece.”

Benicio turned, his gaze glancing off Lucas’s glare before veering to rest on the far wall. I got up and stalked past him, out the cabin door and into the serving station, where I turned on the coffeemaker. By the time I returned, I’d had enough time to cool down. I was still pissed, but there was little danger I’d “accidentally” dump Benicio’s coffee in his lap.

“I was just summing up our findings,” Lucas said as I passed out the mugs.

“I can’t believe it,” Benicio said. “They wouldn’t have gotten away with that here, but in Ohio…” He shook his head. “We need more offices in the Midwest. I’ve said it before.”

Lucas stopped, mug halfway to his lips. “The Nasts were looking into a Cincinnati office, weren’t they?”

Benicio nodded. “They still are, I believe, but they delayed their plans. They ran into a problem with the area that needed to be cleared up first.”

I turned to Lucas. Our eyes met.

“When did they—” Lucas began.

The intercom buzzed on. “Sorry for the interruption, sir, but there’s a red-haired woman here and she demands to speak to you. She says—”

“That’s fine,” Lucas cut in. “She’s with us. Let her in.”

I glanced back at the still-closed door between the rear cabins. “Guess she stepped out before we woke up.”

The main door opened and I caught a glimpse of Benicio’s stand-in bodyguard Morris. Then awoman barreled past, nearly knocking the big man flying. It was indeed a red-haired woman, but not Cassandra.

Justifiable Hysteria

JAIME STUMBLED PAST THE GUARD, HEAD BOWED, SHOULDERS hunched. As she staggered forward, my first thought was that she’d been drinking. Then I noticed her shoes—one sneaker, one pump with a two-inch heel, both pulled on over bare feet, the sneaker still untied, as if she’d grabbed the first two shoes she could find, yanked them on and ran. Her blouse was misbuttoned and stained with splotches of brown and dark red, and her hair hung in a snarled mess, a clip clinging to one side. She pushed back her hair, revealing a face streaked with makeup and tears.

“Oh, God,” I said, rushing forward. “What happened?”

She turned. Four bloodred gouges raked her face from eye to jaw. I gasped.

“I’ll call a medic,” Lucas said as I guided Jaime to a chair.

“N—no,” she said. “Don’t, please. I—I’m okay.”

She collapsed into the chair, bent her head down almost to her thighs, and gulped air, body shaking. After a moment, she convulsed in one final shudder, then lifted her head and brushed her hair from her eyes. She lookedaround, a slow, cautious gaze, shoulders tensed, as if expecting something to leap out at her.

“I’ll call the medic,” Benicio said, rising slowly.

“No!” she snapped. Then she saw who she was snapping at. Her eyes went wide and she dropped her face into her hands with a hiccupping laugh. “Oh, yeah, a f**king breakdown in front of Benicio Cortez. My day is now complete.” She tilted her head to the ceiling. “Thank you very much!”

I dropped into the seat beside Jaime and took her hands. She squeezed mine so hard her nails drew blood. I murmured a calming spell. Jaime inhaled a long, shuddering breath, exhaled and relaxed her grip. After one last cautious look around, she sank back into the seat with a relieved sigh.

“Gone,” she said. “I thought that might be the problem. Must have thought you two had abandoned us for good.”

Lucas explained to Benicio what was going on.

“A ghost who can displace objects but can’t contact a necromancer?” Benicio said, frowning. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Join the club,” Jaime muttered. “The poltergeisting was bad enough, but now this—” She pointed at her cheek. “Last time I had a spook reach out and touch me was twenty years ago, when I accidentally disturbed something very old, and very powerful. And, believe me, that one could talk back—in several languages. This one—” She shook her head. “Well, I don’t know what this one’s problem is, but it’s not acting like any spook I’ve ever met.”

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