“You look exhausted. Did you sleep at all?”
“No. I was sort of…distracted.”
“By the murder or by Ryder?”
“Both, I guess. And the power.” Truth all the way, especially with my sister. “I don’t suppose you might get any…hints or feelings about who might be the right person to give the power over to?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that. I think…I think I felt that Heim was going to be killed. That was the bad feeling I’d had. But since then, nothing.”
“Do you think if you got close to someone who might be a candidate for power you might pick up on something?”
“I’m a disaster warning system. How is gaining god power a disaster?”
“Poseidon.”
She tipped her head side to side. “Okay, yes. That’s always a disaster. But I can’t narrow down why I get those bad feelings until after the bad thing has happened. I know bad is on the way, but only recognize it after it hits. It’s a useless gift.” She laughed, but it didn’t cover just how uncomfortable and disappointed she was.
“It’s not useless,” I said. “You just need more practice to figure it out. I still don’t have a handle on how I’m supposed to deal with the power transfer.”
“Yeah, but you’ve only had that job for the last year and this is your first time. I’ve lived with this all my life. Plenty of time to practice.” She finally bit into the maple bar, chewing slowly, her eyes unfocussed, though from the pleasure of the donut or displeasure at her abilities, I wasn’t sure.
“Don’t get some idea in your head that you can ignore it,” I said. “I’m relying on you to let me know when you get those gut feelings.”
“All the help it will do. But yes. I’ll let you know if I get the doom twinges.”
I chuckled. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
She smiled, and this time I could tell she meant it. “Dunno. Sounds ominous, right? So let’s hear it. Apologize.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Fine. Sorry it took me so long to get to work today.”
“Forgiven. Why so late?”
I picked up my coffee cup. Stared at it. Empty. Right, I hadn’t brought my coffee. I stood, ambled over to the coffee pot.
“There was a penguin about to get blown out of a cannon, and by the time we jimmied it free and restored it to its natural habitat, I wanted coffee and deep-fried sugar. Just my luck, half of Ordinary had the same idea. I would have been here sooner if Cooper and Ryder hadn’t shown up.”
I poured the last of the coffee into my mug and shoveled sugar into it without measuring. I added flavored cream, figuring a double blast of sugar would count for breakfast and lunch and might keep me awake for an hour or two.
“CooperandRyder?” she asked. “Where? When?”
I took a drink. My molars hurt.
Ryder strode through the door. He hesitated a second, then strode across the waiting room. He still had that wicked light in his eyes, that one-corner smile, like he was up to no good and wanted me to know it. Broad shoulders were square in the jacket he wore over flannel, and his heavy boots came down with audible thuds.
He was sexy as hell. My heart raced. My breath caught in my throat. I felt stretched taut, against the power of him, of his gaze.
He pushed past the front counter and stopped right in front of me, so close, I could feel the heat rolling off him, could smell the soap and spice of cologne on his skin mixed deliciously with the cold salt air he’d pulled into the station.
“You wanted to see me, chief?”
Forget coffee. Ryder Bailey was what I craved.
For all my life, my heart said. I opened my mouth to say that and caught myself. How stupid would I sound? He was just here reporting for work. That was all.
“Uh,” I replied, brilliantly.
He exhaled and smiled, and everything in him went loose and relaxed. A dimple appeared by his mouth and I wanted to draw my fingertips over it, over his lips, over the dark stubble on his jaw, down the hard planes of his chest and stomach, and anywhere else that would make him kiss me.
