Bridget put down her scone before going up on tiptoes and kissing his cheek. “You’re one of a kind, Greatdrakes.”
“And you like that?” he asked, a little uncertain.
“Hard not to like a magician who cooks and kisses like the devil,” Bridget said, picking up the scone again. “And now I’m going to go to this side of the table so I don’t kiss you and get distracted all over again.”
“I will take that as a compliment.” Bas wanted to climb over the table and kiss her anyway. “Tell me what you’ve learned while I have been sleeping. Really, you should have come in and woken me up.”
“Yeah. No. Going into your bedroom would have been a bad idea. For reasons,” Bridget said and then started going through her lists and locations with him before he could ask why it would have been a bad idea.
“All of the victims’ houses are close to the river,” Bas commented, staring at the red dots on the map.
“I noticed that too, and I have been going through books on types of sirens or other water creatures. Nothing seems to fit the pattern so far, but there is a lot of this library to get through, and I haven’t bothered with the internet either just yet,” Bridget said, her eyes bright.
Gods, she was so beautiful when she was talking about something she was excited or curious about. The prickly exterior she used to protect herself was momentarily gone in the heat of the moment.
“Are you listening?” she said sharply. “What are you staring at?”
My mate, his dragon purred, making Bas choke on his scone.
“Nothing, just thinking. Sorry,” he stammered. He needed to stop putting off that call to Taranis.
With uncanny timing, his phone started ringing in his back pocket. He quickly fished it out, and a nervous fist clenched his guts. “Kenna, twice in one week. What’s happened?”
“Nothing yet. I talked to one of the people who asked me to look into the dreamers case. John Beauchamp has agreed to let you come and look at his wife, Lily. She fell into a coma this morning, but the husband is waiting for you to check her before he takes her into the hospital,” Kenna replied, not bothering to ask if he was busy at all. “They are expecting you in the next hour.”
“I’m not sure if I can help, but I’ll try. Thanks, Kenna,” Bas said before hanging up. He smiled at Bridget. “Looks like we get to go on an outing this afternoon.”
The victim’shouse was located between Trinity College and Dublin Castle, so Bas decided to walk rather than drive the short distance. He was restless and hoped it might wear him out and help clear his head. He needed to focus on the case and not on how he wanted to pin Bridget to the nearest surface and not let her up until he knew everything about her. If she was his mate, then his obsession with her would make sense.
Bas still wasn’t sure if his dragon was just hopeful she was because it was lonely. He needed to talk to Taranis, but if he did, the whole family would know his dragon was playing up because no one in the family could keep a secret for long. He didn’t want someone running their mouths in front of Bridget before he had a chance to talk to her about it either.
“I really like this part of the city,” Bridget said from beside him. “I thought about trying to get into Trinity College when I first moved here.”
“What made you change your mind?” Bas asked.
“I don’t think I would have the patience for all the boring stuff that the undergrad students need to do. I want to learn things I’m interested in. I’m not interested in regurgitating the same boring ideas back to teachers. I want my own ideas, and university, especially at that level, isn’t interested in original thought,” she said, stuffing her hands further into the pockets of her leather jacket.
Bas chuckled. “Gods, you are such a magician.”
“You all keep saying that, and I have no idea what you are talking about. I just like to research things. My ability to go into the astral plane is from dissociation and trauma. It’s not from magic.”
“It might have started that way, but if you want to, I can show you how to hone your magic. The power is there. If you don’t want me teaching you how to use it, my father is an excellent teacher.”
A smile lifted the corner of Bridget’s lips. “I don’t think I could keep my mind from wandering places it shouldn’t if I took you up on the offer of teaching.”
“Why? Do you have some naughty professor fantasies? Because I can be convinced to give you an A.”
Bridget threw her head back and laughed so loud that people walking past stared. Bas stared because he loved to see her face light up. He wanted to kiss her and feel those laughing lips against his.
“You wouldn’t be able to handle my naughty professor fantasies,” she teased.
“Won’t know until we try.” That made her laugh again, so Bas counted it as a win.
They found the victim’s apartment block without much difficulty. It was wedged between a Tesco’s and H&M. It looked like a cold block of gray stone and glass. Bas didn’t like modern architecture because it didn’t look like it had any soul. They rang the buzzer and waited.
“Who is it?” a tired-sounding man replied.
“My name is Bas Greatdrakes. Kenna Ironwood sent me.”
