The Eldritch Conspiracy

“The zoo” was what most folks called the jail for werewolves and other preternatural types. It had been a really high-tech, highly spelled installation out in the desert. Had been, until it was taken over by demons. Now it was a layer of glass and blasted earth.

I didn’t know what to say, so I changed the subject. “So, how did you find this place?”

She blushed and I just knew there was more to it than she was willing to tell. Instead, she backed the SUV into the spot closest to the front walkway. “Wait till you see the inside. Kevin’s been helping me renovate. Some of the stuff he’s installed is just so cool.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Kevin’s background has given him access to all the best toys. Besides which, he works in IT when he isn’t running around being a soldier of fortune. He’s a serious geek with major skills in all sorts of areas.

We wrangled the slab of glass from the back with me holding most of the weight. Emma set down her end of the mirror and pressed her palm against a recessed reader. When a button flashed green, she typed a five-digit code onto the keypad. I heard the click of the locks opening.

She pushed the door open, and we carried the mirror inside and set it down in the entryway. I took another step, into Emma’s new private domain.

It was gorgeous. The décor was the perfect marriage of tech and classic design. All but one of the stained-glass windows had been replaced with frosted, so the open main area shone with light. The remaining stained-glass pane sent patterns of color across planked wood floors that were beautifully rustic. It felt wonderful; peaceful, positive energy just seemed to emanate from the place.

“Oh, Emma.” The intonation of my words made her smile broaden.

“You like it?” she asked eagerly, practically hopping from foot to foot with excitement.

All I could do was make an incredulous noise and nod. I finally found my voice as my eyes danced over the detailed architecture around the top of the wall. “Are you kidding? I love it. Give me the tour.”

The more she showed me around, the stranger something seemed. Everywhere she mentioned a wall had been repaired or damaged door frame had been replaced, I noticed a particular pattern to the placement of the nails. Finally, I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer. “Is Kevin the only person who’s been helping you with the renovation?”

She blushed and turned away. It was a simple question and had she simply answered it, I wouldn’t have thought any more about it. But her reaction made it clear to me that she was getting construction help from Matteo DeLuca, one of Bruno’s brothers. He’s a Catholic priest and my guess was that he’d helped her find the church in the first place. He’s performed both of my exorcisms, so he would understand why it was important that Emma be on holy ground.

He had also helped Bruno and me work on my beach house after a spell went awry and damaged the floor. I’d noticed that he put in the nails in a slightly zigzag pattern that he swore he’d learned from an old book. He said that old houses stood so long because the nails weren’t hammered in right in a row so they never split the planks. The pattern was very distinctive and easily recognizable.

But it was her reaction that I found even more interesting. It gave her away and was the reason why she couldn’t answer me directly. If Matty was in regular orders, his helping her wouldn’t be a problem. Regular priests are able to have relationships and get married. But the militant orders have always required vows of celibacy.…

“You are kidding! You and Matty? O-M-G!”

Her red cheeks remained. “We haven’t told anyone yet. They can’t approve his transfer to regular duty until after he becomes Bishop. Until then…”

“He has to remain celibate,” I finished for her. “Bummer.”

“Actually, it’s okay.” She smiled and it lit up her face. Oh, she was so gone for this guy. It made me happy. Matty is a great guy. But oh Lord, Mama DeLuca would have a fit. Emma’s no more her idea of the perfect daughter-in-law than I am, and Isabella DeLuca is a force to be reckoned with.

I raised my brows, not speaking my concerns. But she just continued to smile.

“Really. He’s worth the wait. Besides, it’s given us the chance to get to know each other better, to not rush into anything. Between him and Bruno, I’ve heard so much about the family that I feel like I’ll be able to recognize everyone once we meet.”

If she was happy, I was happy for her. But it felt a little weird that everyone was so happy when I was so … well, miserable. Why couldn’t I be happy with what I had?

All told, my visit with Emma was exactly what I needed after the stress of the day. She was so content and the house gave off such good vibes that I felt completely relaxed and at peace with the world as we drove back to campus.

I should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

6

“Have fun tonight,” Emma teased as I climbed out of the SUV near La Cocina. I was going to retrieve my car and head for Bruno’s, and Emma was going back to the office. She hadn’t bothered to pull into the restaurant’s parking lot—it was practically bumper-to-bumper in there and there was no reason for her to waste time to get me a few feet closer to my car.

“Oh, I fully intend to.” My answering grin was probably a little bit wicked. I was really looking forward to an evening with Bruno. And if that went well, I was looking forward to an excellent night with Bruno. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

I opened my parasol as I got out of the car, then slammed the door and went around the front of the vehicle to cross the street. I had been well trained in my youth; now I looked both ways, then took advantage of a break in traffic to start across the busy street.

I heard an engine revving and the squeal of tires, and smelled rubber burning against hot asphalt. Even though I couldn’t see the car’s grille past the parasol that kept the sun from scorching my skin, thankfully my vampire reflexes had kicked in at the first growl of the motor. I dove for the far curb with everything I had. Normally that would be enough, since I can jump really fast and far with my enhanced muscles and most drivers steer away from people in the middle of the street.

But this guy corrected, making it very clear it was intentional. My body was still airborne when the car hit me—probably the only reason I wasn’t badly hurt. I landed on the hood and rolled off past the driver’s side window, catching a glimpse of the man at the wheel before falling to the street. The vehicle sped off.

Ironically, I landed facedown on the white pedestrian stick figure in the crosswalk. Everything hurt. A lot. And I was pissed off.

Because I knew who had hit me.

“Oh my God! Celia, are you all right?” Emma jumped out of the SUV and rushed up as other cars swerved around me. No one stopped, of course.

“I’m okay,” I assured her as I pulled myself slowly to my feet, surveying the damage. Thankfully, I didn’t seem to have any broken bones. A quick tongue survey of my mouth revealed I’d managed not to lose any teeth, although one fang had cut the inside of my lip.

Blood brings out the vampire in me quicker than almost anything. The smell, unmistakable copper and salt; the taste. Both my rage and my newfound hunger made me want to ignore my human nature and rip into the woman standing beside me. I could hear the rapid beat of her heart, smell the sweat of her fear. Emma is my friend. She is not food. And I am not a fucking bat.

I clenched my fists so hard that my nails dug into flesh. My exposed skin was starting to singe—I could smell it burning. I embraced the pain, using it to home in on my humanity. My voice was still a little rough when I asked, “Did you get the plate number?”

I opened my eyes to see her blushing furiously. I guess not. “It was so fast.” Digging the cell phone from her oversized bag, she said, “I’ll call nine-one-one.”

I stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “Don’t.”

Overhead, seagulls were swooping and cawing, obviously upset. I tried to think calming vibes at them. It didn’t work.

“What do you mean, ‘don’t’?” Emma stepped back, angry and offended. She looked a little like an avenging angel, given her air of righteous indignation and her cloud of dark golden hair blowing in the breeze. “It was a deliberate hit-and-run. Whoever that was tried to kill you. We have to call the police.”

When I trusted myself to sound calm I answered her, lying smoothly so she didn’t go ballistic. “Emma, it won’t do any good. He’s long gone. I can’t describe the car or the driver. You don’t have the plate number.” I shrugged. “The last thing I need is more trouble with the police. Please, just let it go.”

I could tell she didn’t want to listen. But she put her phone away, lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval, then strode over to where I’d dropped my purse, her sensible heels clicking sharply against the concrete sidewalk.

“You realize you’re insane?” she said as she returned and handed me my bag.

“Emma—.” My voice held a note of warning. I love Emma, I really do. But I was stressed, I was angry, and the last thing I needed was a lecture.

She gave me a long look through narrowed eyes before lifting a hand in a gesture of reluctant surrender. “Fine, but don’t expect me to like it.” She would like it less if she knew I was lying a little. I’d gotten a good look at the driver. Emma added, “Let’s get inside. You need food. You’re starting to glow.”

Well, hell. That wasn’t good. I’ve gotten a lot more control of my inner bat recently, but stress and physical exertion aren’t helpful. I should probably eat something. Not too much; I didn’t want to ruin my appetite for dinner. Maybe just one of the special Sunset Smoothies La Cocina makes just for me. “I thought you needed to get back to the office and grade papers?”

“Screw it. They can wait another day. This is important. Go see if you can get us a table while I park the car.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">