He hung up his phone and took a deep breath. His skin was pale, his hair was dark, and the shadows carved up his face intosomething wild and hawkish. Caitlin felt a flutter of attraction deep in her belly. The sensation startled her. She hadn’t felt anything about anyone for at least a year. He turned back to her, and she felt like he was consciously putting on a polite face.
“It’s times like this I miss smoking,” he said, unknowingly echoing her thoughts. He hadn’t moved from his position ten feet away, and she realized that he was attempting to make himself safe for her. He was staying far away. He spoke directly to her, acknowledging her presence and sticking to a neutral topic. She knew then that he was waiting for her to move so he could pass her and go to the door. She also knew that she didn’t want him to. She wanted him to stay here in the dark with her.
“I never started,” she said back. “Is it weird that I miss it too?”
He laughed as if she’d surprised him and took a step closer. “Yes, a bit. I don’t think you’re supposed to miss things you’ve never had.”
“Then I think I’ve been doing it wrong,” she said. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair.
“Doing what wrong? Smoking? Yes, you are if you’ve never actually done it.” He sounded amused and unconsciously shifted his phone from one hand to the other. He had long fingers, and she wondered what it would be like to feel them on her skin.
“Living, maybe,” she said, instantly regretting her words, but he took a step closer as if the answer didn’t bother him.
“I’m not sure you can do living wrong,” he said. There was another step, and his head tilted as if he tried to get a better look at her. A hint of a smile played among the shadows on his face.
“I’m absolutely certain you can,” she said and regretted that too. She shook her head. She had forgotten how to flirt. “Sorry. I don’t think I’m suitable company anymore.”
This time the laughter in his voice came through loud and clear. “Well, that’s whereI’mabsolutely certain you’re wrong.”
“Why?”
“Well, for one thing, you have no idea what I’m suited for.” His voice was a deep cocky purr, and Caitlin felt her breath catch a little in her throat. Why was she talking to this man in a dark alley? Why did she want him to come closer?
“For instance, I’m incredibly well suited to—”
His phone lit up in his hand, and he gave an audible grunt of dislike. The backdoor swung open, and Andrew, the bus boy, stumbled out, a very obvious joint in one hand, already starting to light up.
“Seriously, Andrew?” said Caitlin.
“Shit,” said Andrew, staring at them, the joint clamped between his lips.
“This is why you get busted. You never even look before you light up,” Caitlin said.
“I don’t… uh….”
“Whatever,” said Caitlin, rolling her eyes. The guy was already walking away to answer his phone. She felt a swell of angry disappointment. She wasn’t sure why. It was a conversation in an alley. It hadn’t even been decent flirting. It hadn’t been anything. Maybe that was the point. She was missing what she wasn’t going to get. Caitlin upended her coffee cup into the cement planter that doubled as an ashtray and brushed past Andrew. She had a fourth ring of hell accountant party to get back to.
3
JACKSON
The Missing File
“I think we’re cursed,” said Eleanor.
“We’re not cursed, Grandma,” said Jackson sensibly, then yawned.
Nika’s Halloween party had been an unqualified success, at least for Nika. He’d spent the evening avoiding Chelsea, trying to pin Nika down for a quiet moment to talk about Max and engaging in a vain attempt to find the girl from the alley again. He’d ended up going home alone. Something that had been all too common lately.
“Are you sure?” demanded Eleanor, slapping her laptop closed. “Because I’m starting to think J.P. Granger called down some sort of fiery damnation on us and the only way to get rid of it is to dig him up and hold an exorcism. If his dying wish was that I should come to regret ever having heard his name, then it has certainly come true.”
“I’ll get in a witch,” said Jackson. He was tired enough to start blurting out the random thoughts that sprang to mind, even though he knew Eleanor would disapprove of all of them. “She’ll come. She’ll do a blessing, some smudging. It’ll be good.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Eleanor, giving him a look that said she knew he was being purposely provocative. “How is that supposed to look to my Protestant constituency?”
“I can have her come at night.” Jackson didn’t think Eleanorbelieved in witchcraft or Protestants, but he liked to see where she would draw the line.
“Oh, yes, that will be even better. I can see the headline now: Eleanor Deveraux holds midnight Satanic rituals. I’m already on the child molesting cannibal conspiracy Reddit threads. I don’t think we need to add witchcraft to the story.”
