“It’s not that easy.”
He chuckled. “No. Love isn’t. There are the few—very few—who fall into love and never quite break the surface back into the real world, but for most people, for most beings, love is not an easy road.”
When I didn’t say anything, he brushed at a non-existent speck of dust on my dashboard. “I don’t often offer advice.”
I laughed, one short bark. “You’re always telling people what to do.”
“Sure, but I don’t offer advice. Not real advice, not really. Understand?”
Wow, I was currently witnessing a miracle right here in the front seat of my Jeep. Crow was being serious.
“All right. I’m listening. Advice away.”
“I’ve always thought you and Ryder would find a way in this world. Together. I’d thought you’d tell him about the gods and creatures in Ordinary a long, long time ago, but you’ve kept that secret, haven’t you?”
I nodded. That was part of being a Reed. You knew all the secrets of the town and didn’t share them.
“Your father liked him, you know. He thought you and Ryder would have tried dating after high school.”
“Ryder went to college out of state.”
“I know. In the long run it’s probably a good thing. Let him broaden his horizons, stretch his mind and conceptions of the world. But he came back here, Delaney.”
“His house is here.”
“He didn’t come back for a house. He came back for you.”
“Well, if that’s true, he had a weird way of showing it. He dumped me, Crow. He was the one who called it off, not me.”
“Because there are things he doesn’t want you to know about his life.”
“What?”
“You aren’t the only one who has secrets, Delaney. Ryder’s been gone from this town for eight years. He’s lived a life you know nothing about—a life no one knows anything about because if you listen to him, you’ll realize he never really goes into detail. He brushes away any pointed inquiries and changes the subject. That is the behavior of a man who has something to hide.”
“Are you telling me I should love him and trust him or I should take him in for questioning?”
“I’m telling you love makes you vulnerable. It strips away all the shields and safety nets and leaves you open for great joy, and occasionally a lot of pain. Sometimes, when someone loves someone else with everything they are, they will do stupid things. Like not telling them something about their past. Like not telling them the secrets they are afraid will hurt the other person.”
“What secret could he have that would hurt me? I’m a cop.”
“What secrets do you have that could hurt him?”
I had a lot of secrets. Pretty much half of my life was something I didn’t talk about to anyone in town except the deities, creatures, and my sisters. It had always been that way. It was better for the creatures and the deities that their existence not be discovered. It was better for the mortals too.
But it wasn’t all that great on my love life.
I’d dated a few times in high school, but every boy I’d been with broke it off. They’d told me I was too into things they weren’t interested in. Like following in my father’s footsteps and becoming a cop.
They didn’t know that I hadn’t really had much of a choice. Well, maybe that wasn’t completely true. Dad would never have forced me into police work if I’d hated it. But I idolized him, wanted to be just like him. And since he was also a bridge for transferring god power to those lucky few mortals who could become vessels for it, just like me, I felt the closer I fitted my footsteps into the path he’d chosen, the more likely my success would be.
Luckily, I loved being a cop. So did Myra and Jean. We loved taking care of Ordinary. Not just the creatures and vacationing gods, but all of our other neighbors.
“You know I’m in an unusual line of work, right?” I asked him. “Telling Ryder the secrets of the gods and creatures, and everything else isn’t the same as something he might not want to tell me.”
“You don’t think a mortal could be hiding a dangerous secret?”
I flipped on the blinker and waited for a gap in traffic to take the turn up to Old Rossi’s place on the hill.
A little girl, probably six, wore a mini-umbrella hat. I noted with surprise, that her mother did too.
“Lookee, lookee,” Crow said. “Wouldn’t catch on, you said. Stupid hat, you said.”
I ignored him. “What kind of dangerous secrets do you think Ryder might be hiding?”
“You read the headlines. You get the police department chatter. Humans are capable of all sorts of terrible things.”
I laughed. “So...what? You think Ryder’s part of the mob? Or is dealing drugs or has suddenly decided to take up human trafficking as a side business?”
Crow was quiet a moment, as if trying to decide how he was going to answer me.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m listening. I’m trying to hear you and not judge what you’re saying.”
“That,” he said. “Say that to Ryder. Tell him you’ll listen.”
“And find out he spent eight years in and out of jail?”
“And find out what he spent eight years doing. Really doing. With whom. For whom.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, he got his degree and says he worked for an architecture firm. Have you followed up on that?”
“His work history? We brought him in as a reserve officer. We checked his background.”
“Everything on the record.”
“What do you think there was to find off the record?”
Crow rubbed at his mouth and his eyes narrowed. “Delaney, this isn’t...you’re making it hard for me to decide what to say. So I’m not going to say anything. But I am going to ask you a couple questions. Okay?”
Seemed like a lot of people liked playing the Q&A game lately. “Fine.”
“Does Ryder act more like an architect or a law enforcement officer?”
“A cop? You think he’s a secret cop?”
“Just. Answer.”
“He runs a building business. Of course he’s an architect.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Okay, so the question was: Did Ryder act like he was in law enforcement? The image of him striding into the room when I’d been held at gunpoint, the easy way he not only checked over the situation, but also kept an eye on any other possible threats. His calm under pressure and that flash of hard light in his eyes that settled like a granite edge when he was talking about certain things and people.
Yeah, he acted like he’d had training. Myra had even said the same thing to me a few months ago after the Rhubarb Rally. Since my sisters had done a lot of work to keep Ryder’s schedule and duties far away from my own shift, I couldn’t say I’d seen him in cop-mode much these last few months.
But the feeling that I’d been shoving to the back of my heart for too long was more than just intuition. It was knowledge.
“Yes,” I said, “he acts like a cop. What does that have to do with love?”
“Nothing. Everything. It has to do with secrets. The things people won’t say because they want to keep someone they love safe.”
“He doesn’t want to tell me he’s a cop?”
“He doesn’t want to tell you a lot of things. Maybe he’s not a cop. But what I know for sure, is he is not just an architect, and he did not move back into this tiny town because he thought it would be good for business.”
“You think he lied?”
“I think he hasn’t been forthcoming.”
“And you know this how?”
His black eyebrows raised and so did the corners of his mouth. “Hello? Trickster. I know when someone is putting on.”
“If he is hiding something, that’s all the more reason why I shouldn’t be in a relationship with him.”
“Tell that to your heart.”
“My heart isn’t stupid enough to fall for a man who might be keeping dangerou
s secrets.”Crow shook his head.
“What?”
“Now who’s the liar?”
I didn’t have time to answer because one: I didn’t want to, and two: we had arrived at Old Rossi’s place.
I parked the Jeep right next to Ryder’s truck.
What was he doing here?
I tried to picture him doing Zen scribbles or hot yoga....
Hot yoga had its appeal. Ryder sweaty, shirt clinging to his chest, his flat stomach, muscles flexing as he moved, stretched, thrusted.
“Are we getting out today, or should I order us a pizza?” Crow asked.
Okay, so maybe my mind had been wandering a bit. “You can stay here.”
“Nope. I’m very interested as to why our Mr. Bailey is here at big daddy vamp’s house, aren’t you, Delaney? Do you think it might be a secret meeting? Full of skullduggery?”
I ignored him and got out of the Jeep. Yes, it was odd that Ryder was at Old Rossi’s house, especially since Rossi had warned me off of Ryder, and Ryder hadn’t ever seemed all that friendly to Rossi. Not to mention I’d specifically told Rossi to leave Ryder alone.
There was little chance Rossi would want to give me time to answer questions about what he had felt, what any of the vampires might have felt, when Sven had been killed.
But I didn’t want Rossi to do Ryder any damage. It had been Ryder’s blood on Sven, it had been Ryder’s blood used in the ichor techne. It was possible that Rossi had called Ryder up here so he could kill him.
Well, hell.
I resisted the urge to pull my gun. Instead, I walked quickly up to the front door.
Even though I had been here only a handful of hours ago, it felt like an entirely different house. Funny what sunlight can do to a place.
I knocked. I heard voices coming closer. Three, I thought. Two I recognized: Old Rossi and Ryder. The other I didn’t.
Crow stood behind me now. Guess he didn’t want to wait in the Jeep.
Old Rossi opened the door. For just a second, a heartbeat of a moment, his eyes narrowed. If I were anyone else in town, I might think that he was unhappy to see me. But since I knew Old Rossi, I knew he wasn’t just unhappy, he was annoyed.
Interesting.
“Hi, Rossi. Can I have a couple of minutes of your time?”
“This isn’t ideal, Delaney.”
“It won’t take long.” I stepped into his house. I didn’t have to be invited across a threshold—human had its advantages—and he stepped back, the annoyed rolling into a simmering frustration that was not quite anger.
Really, if he wanted, he could send one of his family members to take care of me. Vampires were at least three times as strong as a human. If he wanted me marched off his property, he could make that happen with a snap of his fingers.
But it would be really stupid of him to push this to a physical kind of confrontation. Better just to see me in and answer my questions rather than fight me and watch as I locked him and his entire clan up in a silver and garlic-lined prison cell.
Yes, I was human. I was also a Reed. That meant some things. It meant I didn’t back down, I didn’t break easily, and I had the kind of endurance that let me manhandle god powers if I had to.
“I see you have company.” I waved vaguely over my shoulder toward Ryder’s truck out front.
“So do you.” He flicked a look at Crow, then crossed his arms over his chest. He might have looked intimidating if he wasn’t wearing soft gray yoga pants and a worn out shirt with: LET’S GET DOWN, DOG written across the chest.
“Is Ryder taking up yoga?”
Old Rossi almost never smiled with his teeth, but would curve his lips. He had the kind of face that said “smolder,” and his smile reached his eyes with a sort of diamond-hard glitter. If one didn’t know he was a vampire and couple thousand years old, one might think he was a handsome cologne-ad model, even though his eyebrows were thick and low to his eyes and his nose was strong. His messy dark hair, a little too long, only accented those killer cheekbones of his.
So the unfulfilled smile carried a power. It made one want to see his teeth, see his smile, see what would make a creature like him laugh.
Sort of like a spiderweb looked incomplete—all those holes—and therefore safe for a fly to duck through.
“Delaney,” Ryder’s familiar voice called out.
I looked down the hallway past Old Rossi. Ryder walked my way.
My heart took a jump and went for a double-Dutch beat. I’d just seen him last night, but there was no denying the happy that flooded my senses when he was near. I practically thrummed with it.
Behind him was the man I’d seen arguing with Ryder on his doorstep the other night.
“What brings you by?” Ryder asked.
“Yes, Delaney,” Old Rossi asked. “What brings you by?”
“I just wanted to check a few things with Rossi.”
The vampire’s eyebrows flicked up. Behind him, Ryder’s did the same.
Okay, so maybe I wasn’t sounding as casual as I thought I was.
“Don’t think we’ve met.” Crow strode up past me and Rossi, aiming straight at the man I still hadn’t been introduced to. “My name’s Crow. I run the glassblowing shop here in town.”
“Pleased to meet you.” The man’s voice was a low rumble with a bit of an accent from the other side of the continent. He shook Crow’s hand. “Name’s Jake Monroy.”
“Friend of Mr. Rossi’s?” Crow asked.
“No,” Ryder said. “He’s here with me. Mr. Monroy is looking at investing in land and businesses in town. I told him I’d show him around while he’s here.”
“Are you selling land?” I asked Rossi.
He finally realized he wasn’t going to get rid of me or Crow and turned his body to open up the circle of conversation.
“I am not selling.” Rossi motioned to the living room and we all made our way toward a more comfortable setting.
“I might be interested in hiring Mr. Bailey to remodel my studio.”
Maybe that was the truth. Rossi used the second home on his property for his classes, and I didn’t think he’d done much to update it in all the time I’d known him. But it was too much of a coincidence that he had a dead vampire covered in Ryder’s blood show up yesterday and now was keenly interested in hiring Ryder today.
“An upgrade,” I said. “Is business that good? I mean, with our weather being so wet this year, you can’t be bringing in that many vacationers.” I gave him an innocent look.
He gave his own look that said I was laying it on a little thick.
“Not at all. The weather has given me time to contemplate the changes I’d like to implement. I’ve been impressed by Mr. Bailey’s concepts and creative vision. I’m excited to see what energy he can bring to this project.”
All of that was pleasant enough. A pleasant pile of bologna. The only thing Old Rossi was excited about was keeping Ryder close at hand in case he felt like killing him.
I could just picture them going over the details: Hey, Ryder? What do you think about re-doing the edge of the balcony? Shove.
No. That wasn’t going to happen. I might not be able to admit out loud that I loved him, but even if I hated Ryder, I wouldn’t leave him in Old Rossi’s hands when the vampire was literally out for blood.
“Could you and I speak privately?” I asked.
Old Rossi narrowed those ice blue eyes, but I squared off to him, my hands on my hips, letting him know it wasn’t really a question.
“Maybe after I’ve given Ryder and Jake my time and attention,” Old Rossi said. “I know you’re a busy man, Ryder, with other appointments today.”
“No, that’s fine.” Ryder had folded down on the couch and looked more relaxed than any of us except maybe Crow who was mooching around the edges of the room. “I’ll jot down some notes about that studio. Go on ahead.”
Of course, Ryder also caught my eye. He didn’t think I was there on some kind of casual house call either. He
knew I was investigating a murder—a murder that I wasn’t giving him any details about. I was pretty sure he was leaping to all sorts of conclusions as to why I needed to talk to Old Rossi.
He wasn’t right about me thinking Old Rossi was a suspect, but he wasn’t wrong about my reason for being here. Or at least what my reason had been before I’d seen Ryder’s truck in the driveway.
“How considerate,” Old Rossi said, his voice tempered but his eyes hot. “And you, Mr. Monroy?”
The man I did not like even though I’d barely spoken to him, shoved both hands in his pockets, the right one stopping short as it caught on a squared-off ring on his finger. “No, it’s fine. You go on and deal with the...officer. Our business can wait.”
Wow. Could he have sounded any more resentful and condescending?
There is a thing vampires do right before they go for the throat. It’s sort of a black heat that radiates from them. I knew this because my father had told me. He knew it because he’d seen vampires attack before.
In all my years in Ordinary—which was all my life—I’d never seen any real vampire violence. Bar fights? Sure. Yelling matches? Yes. Petty squabbles and some dirty underhanded revenge that involved rotted shrimp and old eggs? Of course.
But the pure distilled anger and violence Old Rossi radiated at being told what to do, like a child, was eye-opening.
A little heart-stopping too.
And just as quickly as it had happened, that dark violence was gone. Old Rossi wasn’t radiating anything except a sort of vibe that advertised he was fond of sandalwood and long walks on the beach.
“Miss Reed.” He extended his hand as a sign for me to follow him out of the room. He never called me Miss Reed. I suddenly felt like I was being called out of class to see the principal.
He was upset I’d interrupted him. Well, too bad. He wanted to know who killed Sven and so did I. And only one of us was a police officer.
“Drinks?” Crow asked, having found his way to the bar in the corner of the room. It wasn’t even noon yet, I didn’t think alcohol would make any of this easier.
I flicked him a look that I hoped said: Behave yourself over my shoulder as I walked out of the room. His look said: La-la-la. I can’t hear you, as he studied the label on the vodka.