“Not exactly,” I replied, blown away by the fact that Ashlee would mutilate herself. “It was carved into it. She cut into her own arm.”

With a grimace, Brooklyn said, “That’s disgusting. Crave attention much?”

“I don’t think she did it for attention, Brooke. I think she’s scared. Terrified. Do you know what it means?” I asked Jared and Cameron.

Cameron hunched his body, ducking his furrowed face in concentration, carefully linking prongs together, and said slowly, “It means Brooklyn thinks self-mutilation is disgusting.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not that. Fear the darkness. What does it mean?”

He tipped a shoulder toward Jared. “Why don’t you ask lover boy over there.”

Jared cut him a razor-sharp warning.

“It seems Mr. Kovach has something of a reputation,” Cameron continued.

“What kind of a reputation?” I asked.

“I don’t have a reputation,” Jared said, his voice even, threatening.

Cameron’s face brightened with silent laughter. “Come on, Reaper. You can tell them.”

Jared leaned forward. “Why don’t you and I go discuss this outside.”

“Shins,” I warned. “And I am wearing steel-toed boots this time. Don’t even mess with me.”

But neither backed down. Crap. I knew the shin thing wouldn’t last.

Cameron held his grin steady as he spoke. “See, messengers have to follow all kinds of orders, answer all kinds of prayers, all manner of requests. Including those that involve other supernatural beings.”

“Like ghosts?” Brooklyn asked.

“Exactly. There are evil ghosts just like there are evil people. And any Joe Schmo can pray to have one evicted. You just have to believe, have faith in the Big Guy’s word, and boom!” He made the umpire strikeout sign. “That pesky little poltergeist is outta here. And guess who sends them off to suffer in the fires of eternal Hell and damnation?”

He questioned me silently. I didn’t move.

“That’s right,” he continued. “Your reaper, here. Azrael is somewhat of a specialist. And the ghost world doesn’t think very highly of him. Right, Az?”

Jared sat stone still, hardly breathing. Personally, I found the whole idea rather fascinating. Who knew? But Jared seemed furious that Cameron was even talking about it. He cast a furtive look my way before refocusing on his hands folded on the table in front of him, his jaw tight.

“So, this ghost haunting the Southern belles, it knows Jared’s here?”

“It knew it the moment he started stalking you.”

“Cameron,” I said, a gentle warning in my tone, “Jared wasn’t stalking me. He was doing his job, remember? We talked about this.”

Cameron shook his head with a soft chortle. “Please, Lorelei. Use some common sense, will you?”

“What?” I asked, rather offended.

“Angels, or messengers, or whatever the Hell politically correct term you want to call them are master manipulators of space and time.”

“You should probably stop talking about now,” Jared said.

“They can come and go in a blinding flash.”

“Lusk—”

“He could have popped in, taken you, and popped back out before even I could have seen him. Or felt his presence on this plane. But he didn’t. Why do you think that is?”

Jared shoved his chair back and stood. Without hesitation, Cameron did the same. Our table almost toppled over as they both did their best to intimidate each other. I shot up and did my darnedest to get between them. It was like trying to shove two cinder block walls apart.

With a hand on either chest, I hissed a harsh warning: “Do you really want to give Principal Davis a reason to come in here?” My gaze bounced back and forth. “Do you really want to give the sheriff a reason to be suspicious? He already believes you two were the cause of that little earthquake scenario. You’ll just be giving him ammunition.”

After a moment, Jared looked at me, his eyes dark with anger. “Keep a muzzle on your dog,” he said, then turned to leave.

Not this time.

I grabbed his shirt and forced him to look at me again. “Is it true?” I asked. Was he really following me just to see me? To watch me?

He lowered his lashes and waited an interminable amount of time before answering. “Yes,” he said, his voice deathly quiet.

Now for the sad part.

My soul took flight! My heart soared! A euphoric, deliriously giddy sensation washed over me with the knowledge that Jared was following me because he wanted to. Not because he had to, because it was his job. The realization sent a tingle rushing over my skin.

Jared glanced back at me then, and I tried to control my elation, a feat that proved impossible. Until I looked at him. Really looked. And reality sank in. “Why?” I asked, suddenly confused. “Why me?” Did he have any idea how gorgeous he was?

His lips thinned in frustration like I should already know the answer. He inched closer until his knee touched mine, his eyes, curious and intense, boring into me. “Because you move like fire rushing across a floor,” he said, his voice hushed, velvety smooth, “like flames licking up a wall.” The rest of the world crumbled away as he lifted my chin. “Your energy is liquid and hot. Even from a distance you burn, you scorch anyone who gets too close. You are wine on my tongue and honey in my veins, and I cannot get enough of you.” He leaned forward and whispered into my ear. His warm breath sent shivers cascading over my body. “You intoxicate me, Lorelei McAlister. You will be my downfall.”




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