Raised in Fire (Fire and Ice Trilogy 2)

J.M.’s confusion said he wasn’t sure about that. He turned back to me and his eyes took me in. “Wow,” he said as his gaze roamed my face then dipped to my body. “You’re…” He shook his head. “You’re beautiful, Reagan.”

I smoothed the red silk fabric over my legs. It was one of the many dresses Marie had bought for me, and the most casual of the bunch. I’d done a little makeup and tried mildly on my hair. All this because J.M. had texted that we’d go somewhere nice to eat, his treat.

Now, seeing him in a pale blue button-up with a pair of jeans, I realized my error. Nice in Darius language meant at least a four-star rating. It meant fancy, but to his tastes, still somewhat mediocre. I was in the real world now, where people weren’t made of money.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Sure, yeah. I think I’m dressed too casual.”

“Oh.” I hooked a thumb behind me. “Do I have time to change?”

“God no. No way. You’re gorgeous. Every guy in the place will be jealous. Come on.” He stepped aside so I could exit the house.

I stepped out and locked the door behind me. At least it would keep non-vampires out.

J.M.’s midnight-blue Mustang waited at the curb. He clicked his key fob and the lights flashed. I stepped to the passenger door and waited as he walked around to the driver’s side.

“You okay?” he asked, opening the door.

I rolled my eyes at myself. I had to remember J.M. was from a different time than the people I traveled with lately. He wasn’t hung up on opening doors.

“Yup. Sorry, I just needed to check my phone really quickly.” I dove into my handbag, pushed my gun out of the way, and grabbed my cell. There was a message, thankfully, so I totally looked legit.

I opened the door and sat into the car before reading the message from Smokey. A human is watching your house. Nicely dressed. Slicked-back hair. Should I tell Mikey?

I looked around as J.M. pulled away from the curb but didn’t see anyone. Or Smokey.

Did Smokey even sleep? The guy seemed like he was up at all hours.

I texted back, No. Try to get a picture if you can. Even from a distance. I needed a new hobby, and messing with Darius’s people might need to be it.

10-4, came the return message from Smokey.

“So how was your trip?” J.M. asked as he turned the corner.

We talked about pleasantries during the car ride, any holes in the conversation quickly plugged with useless info. A while later he parked the car across from the brewery in the French Quarter. I’d caught a cab in almost this same location while I was working with Darius.

I blew out a breath as a pang hit my heart. It had been a little over twenty-four hours, and already I missed him. It wasn’t even the glorious nights wrapped in his body, or the witty dialogue we always shared, but the comfort of having him by my side. Content that he had my back, and I had his.

Man, I just wanted to see him again. It was really annoying. Especially since I wasn’t good at reining myself in.

“Reagan?”

“Hmm?” I blinked as J.M. held the door to the restaurant for me. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah. Sorry.” I laughed. “Head in the clouds. It’s been a long week.”

“I’ll say.” He followed me into the restaurant and then up the stairs as the hostess led us to our table. After we were seated, he said, “I heard the case was filed away, but you didn’t bring anyone in. So it was a dead end?”

“Oh.” I stalled, not really sure what to say. Telling him my friends and I had killed the whole lot of them was probably the opposite of my duty as a friendly ear to help him through his transition to the magical world. “It was resolved, but not traditionally. You’ll probably learn more about that from Sean.”

“He seemed happy enough with the result.” J.M.’s brow furrowed. “If you didn’t bring anyone in, though, I’m not sure how you could call that a win.”

“The crimes will stop. That’s the win.”

He nodded slowly.

“Speaking of, how’s all”—I made a circle with my forefinger—“this going? The magical stuff?”

“We solved that case you helped with.” He beamed.

“Oh yeah?” I looked up from the menu. “Who did it?”

“The daughter.” His grin was triumphant. “We found the sword at her house. She hadn’t even cleaned off the blood.” He shook his head. “She butchered her own father. We’re not sure what she was after yet.”

I tsked and resumed looking over the menu. “I’d find that out before you close the case. If it’s magical in nature, and valuable enough to kill someone over, more people will try to get in on it. Magical people can be ruthless scavengers.”

“Doubt it. It was a family spat.”

I wiped the sudden crinkle from my brow. I didn’t work for the MLE office anymore. Their lack of thoroughness wasn’t my problem. “Right. What are you going to have?”

The dinner passed with stilted conversation, largely due to my continual dropping of the conversational ball. My mind kept wandering, and try as I might, I couldn’t keep it rooted to the conversation. Finally, the dinner was over and we found ourselves outside.

“What’s next?” J.M. asked, standing too close.

I took a step away, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “You know what? I think I’m going to head off. I have a friend I want to visit.”

“Oh.” His expression fell, and he looked around. “Here?”

“Just”—I motioned—“up the way.”

“Oh. Well…okay. Are you sure I can’t take you for a drink?”

“No, but thanks for dinner. Good luck with the transition. I think you’ll do great.” I put up my hand for a high five. His immediate compliance was a childhood reaction that required no thought, if his obvious confusion was any indication. I threw him a wave and headed away.

Chapter Thirty-Six

The hot, sticky night embraced me. I’d missed New Orleans. Sure, Seattle was green and mild and beautiful, but it didn’t have enough crazy for my taste. It didn’t have enough old-world and deep magical traditions. Hell, it didn’t have enough nudity. What was the fun in that?

Jazz music clattered out of the bars and people danced on the streets as I made my way to my destination. Shouts and laughter filled the night. Empty plastic drink containers and discarded wrappers littered the curbs. I found the man I was looking for where I always did, leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette.

I slipped behind a group of people walking in a mostly straight line until I was near him. Then, for old times’ sake, I stepped out suddenly. “Hiya, Red. What’s new?”

Red flinched and froze, his eyes wide as he stared at me.

I covered his bony shoulder in heavy pats, making him flinch with each one. “Did you miss me?”

He shook himself out of his fear-induced coma. “Reagan. You’re back.” He did not sound happy about it. “I don’t know anything.”

I knew that tone. He did know something. Something good.

Red was the guy I could always shake information out of in this town. If he didn’t know it directly, he always knew a rumor that at least gave me a direction. It took the trip to Seattle for me to realize how much I relied on him.

Lucky for him, I was off-duty. Would be for the foreseeable future. I did not care about his gossip. The opposite, in fact—I didn’t want to know. This visit was for payback.

“C’mon, let me buy you a drink.” I yanked him toward the bar.

“You know I don’t drink.”

“When has that ever stopped you from sitting and watching me drink enough for the both of us?” I pushed him ahead of me and into a booth at the back of the dark bar. After I’d gotten a double shot of whiskey for each of us (I’d be drinking both), I sat down in the booth with him, recognizing his trepidation.

No, I didn’t want anything, but it wouldn’t do to let him get too comfortable. Just because I was leaving the bounty hunter gig for a while, didn’t mean I needed to close the door on information. Insurance, and all that.