Hell's Bell (Lizzie Grace 2)

“The point remains the same—I don’t currently know any more than either of you.”

“Perhaps, but we were wondering if you would be willing to share any information you do get.” He paused, and then added, with odd emphasis, “My mistress would not only be most appreciative, but she would also be in your debt.”

That, his reverence suggested, was not only rare, but could be highly beneficial. And I couldn’t help but agree, especially if Gabe was right about the darker forces being drawn to this place even if the original wellspring became fully protected.

“I very much doubt Aiden will tell me too much about the investigation,” I said. “Especially if the coroner’s report proves there’s no connection to the soul eater’s presence on the reservation.”

“Even so, we’d appreciate any information you do get.”

I hesitated. “Okay, but I won’t share anything that could jeopardize the ongoing investigation. Is that clear?”

He inclined his head, the movement almost regal. “That is acceptable.”

Too bad if it isn’t, I wanted to say, but wisely kept the words inside. I walked back around the counter and motioned him toward the door. “If there’s nothing else, I’ve got work to do.”

“Thank you for the cake and your time,” he said, and left.

I locked up after him, and then headed into the kitchen to make my shake. Between it, and the steak, chips, and salad I had afterward, the lingering tiredness that was a result of my supporting Belle began to fade. The coffee and double chocolate cheesecake that followed washed away the remainder.

I spent a couple of hours in the kitchen doing prep for tomorrow, and then headed upstairs to relax and read some more of Nellie’s old book on darker spirits.

The rest of the afternoon drifted by without any major revelations as to what sort of soul eater we might be dealing with, let alone how to stop it killing, and banish it from the reservation.

Belle came out just as the clock downstairs started chiming. She yawned hugely and then somewhat blearily glanced my way. “Is that six AM or PM?”

“The latter. Why aren’t you still asleep?”

“Because I forgot to call Zak and cancel our date, and he just sent a text saying he’ll be around in half an hour to pick me up.” She wrinkled her nose. “I said I needed an hour and a very early night, so we’re just going to the pub down the road for steak and chips.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You can get that here.”

“Yes, but it would mean me cooking, and that’s not going to happen on my day off.”

“Fair enough.” I bookmarked the page I was on, and then pushed upright. “You want a coffee to wake up a bit more?”

She hesitated. “Nah, the shower should be enough.”

I made myself an espresso as she pottered about getting ready. Zak arrived right on time, and I couldn’t help the wisp of... not envy, but certainly longing that stirred as he tugged Belle into his arms and kissed her soundly. I really wasn’t sure Aiden and I would ever get to the point of being so open and easy when it came to desire.

I locked the door again once they’d left, and headed into the kitchen to make myself something for dinner. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully—which I supposed was a good thing even if it was utterly boring.

I’d just about given up hope of Aiden dropping by when, at ten thirty, my phone rang.

“Didn’t wake you up, did I?” he said, by way of greeting.

“The only reason you’ll ever find me in bed this early is if I’m sick or having sex.”

He chuckled softly, the sound so low, and warm desire stirred. “I hope the latter activity is not just confined to the bedroom.”

“If you play your cards right, you might just find out.”

“I’ll be seriously disappointed if I don’t.” He paused. “I know it’s late, but do you want to go out for coffee?”

No, I want to stay in and play. But with Belle due home at any minute, that really wasn’t an option. Magic might be able to stop her hearing my thoughts, but I wasn’t aware of any spells capable of stopping sound—which didn’t mean there weren’t any. Still, while it might be considered rather old-fashioned in this day and age, we’d long ago made a rule not to bring our lovers home unless the other was staying elsewhere. So I simply said, “There won’t be much open at this hour, will there?”

“There’s actually a little twenty-four-hour place just off the freeway that does surprisingly good coffee.”

“By your standards or mine?” I asked, amused. “And does this count as a date?”