Haunted
Page 101
"Er, things. Work. Boring stuff."
My God, I was short. Of all the things I should have been thinking at that moment, this probably ranked near the bottom, but I couldn't help it. Lucas wasn't any taller than I was—the real me—but he was a damned sight taller than Paige, who barely hit five foot two. The sensation of having to look up at someone was so disorienting that my brain snagged on it and wouldn't let go. And while I was thinking this, Lucas was giving me a look that told me I had to do something—something Paige-like—fast.
I slid forward, smiled, and grabbed his hand, then leaned up against the file cabinet beside him, my side touching his.
"So," I said… and then couldn't think of anything to go with it.
"About that gift."
"Gift?"
He smiled down at me. "The one you are trying very hard to pretend you've forgotten about."
"Ah… that gift. The one from… your trip."
He nodded, and I mentally high-fived myself. Lucas always brought Paige something home from his trips.
"So what is it?" I asked.
He arched a brow again, a clear "You have to ask?" and I knew I was losing ground fast.
"Now, let me see." I grinned and stepped away, letting his hand fall. "What could it be? A fur coat?
Noooo. A Lamborghini? Noooo."
He shook his head, but didn't smile. Okay, joking wasn't going to get me out of this. Think harder—what would Lucas bring Paige as a gift… ?
"Magic!" I said. "You brought me a, uh, a spell or a spellbook. Right?"
His brow furrowed. I knew I'd got the answer right, but I think my delivery had been a bit off. I grabbed his hand again and grinned at him.
"Okay, Cortez," I said. "Stop goofing, and tell me what you brought me. Is it a spell? A new one? What does it do?"
He laughed, and I breathed a mental sigh of relief. Only Paige called Lucas by his last name, and her enthusiasm for new magic matched my own.
"I told you yesterday that I was picking option twelve," he said. "But I lied."
"You… did?" Option twelve? What the hell was option twelve and what did it have to do with a new spell?
His lips twitched in a grin that lit up his eyes and made him almost handsome. "Yes, I apologize for my dissembling, but I wished to conceal my true intentions until such time as we were able to execute them without fear of interruption."
"English, Cortez."
His grin grew. "I wanted to wait until we were alone. The truth is that I have come up with an option of my own." He caught my look of confusion and laughed. "Yes, I know, my previous efforts in that regard were underwhelming, and I'll admit that I still lack your particular brand of creativity in such matters, but I believe I may redeem myself with this one." His eyes sparked with a wicked grin. "This time, I had help.
Namely the Cinsel Büyüculük."
"The Cinsel Büyücülük? Isn't that a sex—" I dropped his hand and backpedaled. "Damn, Lucas. I'm so sorry. I would love to, but…" I waved at the computer screen. "My in-box is overflowing. How about a rain check?"
He gave a slow nod. "I understand."
I smiled. "Thanks. You're so sweet." I turned to the computer. "How about I get a few of these done, then I'll make us some tea and—"
A hand flew around my throat, fingers digging in so hard I gasped.
"Move and I will crush your windpipe," Lucas murmured behind me, his voice low, tone conversational.
"You have two minutes to tell me what I want to know, starting with: Where is my wife?"
Chapter 47
I GRABBED AT LUCAS'S HAND, AND TRIED TO PRY IT free, but it wouldn't budge. "What is wrong with you today, Cortez?" I gasped.
An edge crept into his voice. "Don't call me that."
"Don't call—? Lucas? It's me."
His grip tightened.
"Lucas?" I twisted, injecting fear into my voice. "Lucas, please. You're scaring me."
"Don't."
"Lucas? It's me—"
"Don't!" He leaned over my back. "You are not Paige, and the more you try to deny that, the more angry I'm going to become. Now, who are you?"
Damn it! I'd been here less than ten minutes, and I'd already screwed up. I thought of Jaime's hotel room, when Kristof had seen through the Nix's glamour spell without a moment's hesitation. He'd known she wasn't me. So how the hell had I thought I could fool Lucas about Paige?
I had two options—keep pushing and hope he backed off, or come clean. The success of the first depended on how gullible Lucas was… which made the decision pretty darned easy.
"Eve. Eve Levine. Savannah's—"
"I know who Eve Levine is."
"Right, we met. Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, maybe. God, you were just a kid. You had balls, though, coming to take those grimoires away from me. I admired that. Didn't keep me from kicking your ass, but I admired it."
His hand stayed locked around my throat.
"Er, you do remember that, right?" I said.
"Yes."
"But you don't think I'm really Eve—"
"No, I never questioned that. Now, where is Paige?"
His tone cut through me, as cold and emotionless as it had been when he started. Not that I expected a big hug of welcome, but, well, I suppose I expected something. I thought of all the hours we'd spent together, all the times I watched out for him, even rooted for him. And as we stood there, his hand wrapped around my throat, I became keenly aware of the one-sidedness of this relationship.
His grip tightened. "Where is Paige? You may be Savannah's mother, Eve, but don't think I won't—"
"Don't! This is Paige's body. If you hurt me, you'll hurt her. She won't feel it, but when she comes back—
and she is coming back. I promise you that, Lucas. This is just temporary."
"Is it?"
"Absolutely. I'd never do anything to hurt Paige. I used to babysit her when she was little. Did she tell you that?"
"She told me that you said that… though she has no recollection of it."
My God, I was short. Of all the things I should have been thinking at that moment, this probably ranked near the bottom, but I couldn't help it. Lucas wasn't any taller than I was—the real me—but he was a damned sight taller than Paige, who barely hit five foot two. The sensation of having to look up at someone was so disorienting that my brain snagged on it and wouldn't let go. And while I was thinking this, Lucas was giving me a look that told me I had to do something—something Paige-like—fast.
I slid forward, smiled, and grabbed his hand, then leaned up against the file cabinet beside him, my side touching his.
"So," I said… and then couldn't think of anything to go with it.
"About that gift."
"Gift?"
He smiled down at me. "The one you are trying very hard to pretend you've forgotten about."
"Ah… that gift. The one from… your trip."
He nodded, and I mentally high-fived myself. Lucas always brought Paige something home from his trips.
"So what is it?" I asked.
He arched a brow again, a clear "You have to ask?" and I knew I was losing ground fast.
"Now, let me see." I grinned and stepped away, letting his hand fall. "What could it be? A fur coat?
Noooo. A Lamborghini? Noooo."
He shook his head, but didn't smile. Okay, joking wasn't going to get me out of this. Think harder—what would Lucas bring Paige as a gift… ?
"Magic!" I said. "You brought me a, uh, a spell or a spellbook. Right?"
His brow furrowed. I knew I'd got the answer right, but I think my delivery had been a bit off. I grabbed his hand again and grinned at him.
"Okay, Cortez," I said. "Stop goofing, and tell me what you brought me. Is it a spell? A new one? What does it do?"
He laughed, and I breathed a mental sigh of relief. Only Paige called Lucas by his last name, and her enthusiasm for new magic matched my own.
"I told you yesterday that I was picking option twelve," he said. "But I lied."
"You… did?" Option twelve? What the hell was option twelve and what did it have to do with a new spell?
His lips twitched in a grin that lit up his eyes and made him almost handsome. "Yes, I apologize for my dissembling, but I wished to conceal my true intentions until such time as we were able to execute them without fear of interruption."
"English, Cortez."
His grin grew. "I wanted to wait until we were alone. The truth is that I have come up with an option of my own." He caught my look of confusion and laughed. "Yes, I know, my previous efforts in that regard were underwhelming, and I'll admit that I still lack your particular brand of creativity in such matters, but I believe I may redeem myself with this one." His eyes sparked with a wicked grin. "This time, I had help.
Namely the Cinsel Büyüculük."
"The Cinsel Büyücülük? Isn't that a sex—" I dropped his hand and backpedaled. "Damn, Lucas. I'm so sorry. I would love to, but…" I waved at the computer screen. "My in-box is overflowing. How about a rain check?"
He gave a slow nod. "I understand."
I smiled. "Thanks. You're so sweet." I turned to the computer. "How about I get a few of these done, then I'll make us some tea and—"
A hand flew around my throat, fingers digging in so hard I gasped.
"Move and I will crush your windpipe," Lucas murmured behind me, his voice low, tone conversational.
"You have two minutes to tell me what I want to know, starting with: Where is my wife?"
Chapter 47
I GRABBED AT LUCAS'S HAND, AND TRIED TO PRY IT free, but it wouldn't budge. "What is wrong with you today, Cortez?" I gasped.
An edge crept into his voice. "Don't call me that."
"Don't call—? Lucas? It's me."
His grip tightened.
"Lucas?" I twisted, injecting fear into my voice. "Lucas, please. You're scaring me."
"Don't."
"Lucas? It's me—"
"Don't!" He leaned over my back. "You are not Paige, and the more you try to deny that, the more angry I'm going to become. Now, who are you?"
Damn it! I'd been here less than ten minutes, and I'd already screwed up. I thought of Jaime's hotel room, when Kristof had seen through the Nix's glamour spell without a moment's hesitation. He'd known she wasn't me. So how the hell had I thought I could fool Lucas about Paige?
I had two options—keep pushing and hope he backed off, or come clean. The success of the first depended on how gullible Lucas was… which made the decision pretty darned easy.
"Eve. Eve Levine. Savannah's—"
"I know who Eve Levine is."
"Right, we met. Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, maybe. God, you were just a kid. You had balls, though, coming to take those grimoires away from me. I admired that. Didn't keep me from kicking your ass, but I admired it."
His hand stayed locked around my throat.
"Er, you do remember that, right?" I said.
"Yes."
"But you don't think I'm really Eve—"
"No, I never questioned that. Now, where is Paige?"
His tone cut through me, as cold and emotionless as it had been when he started. Not that I expected a big hug of welcome, but, well, I suppose I expected something. I thought of all the hours we'd spent together, all the times I watched out for him, even rooted for him. And as we stood there, his hand wrapped around my throat, I became keenly aware of the one-sidedness of this relationship.
His grip tightened. "Where is Paige? You may be Savannah's mother, Eve, but don't think I won't—"
"Don't! This is Paige's body. If you hurt me, you'll hurt her. She won't feel it, but when she comes back—
and she is coming back. I promise you that, Lucas. This is just temporary."
"Is it?"
"Absolutely. I'd never do anything to hurt Paige. I used to babysit her when she was little. Did she tell you that?"
"She told me that you said that… though she has no recollection of it."
